The Story Book Girls Part 44

"I shall sit out, if you don't mind," she said. "Isn't it silly to have a headache when all this fun is going on?" She found herself being quite friendly and natural with him. The children were having a great romp in front of them.

"Have you a headache?" he asked rather kindly.

Oh yes, she had a headache. Now she knew. It seemed to have been going on for years. She began to talk about May Turberville's embroidery, and how Lance had sewn a pincushion in order to outrival her. When May had run on to sewing daffodils on her gowns, Lance threatened to embroider sunflowers on his waistcoats. Had he seen Lance's pictures? Well, Lance was really awfully clever, particularly in drawing figures. Mr.

Leighton wanted him to say he would be an artist, but Lance said he couldn't stand the clothes he would have to wear. Mr. Leighton said that wearing a velveteen coat didn't mean nowadays that one was an artist, and Lance said that it was the only way of drawing the attention of the public. He said that one always required some kind of a showman to call out "Walk up, gentlemen, this way to the priceless treasures,"

and that a velveteen coat did all that for an artist. Lance said he would rather be on the Stock Exchange, where he could do his own shouting. She said that frankly, with all the knowledge she had of Lance and his manner of giving people away, she should never think of entrusting him with her money to invest. She said it in a very high voice, since she observed just at that minute that Lance stood behind her chair.

"Well, you are a little cat, Elma," he said disdainfully. "Here am I organizing a party in order to let people know that some day I shall be on the Stock Exchange, and here are you influencing the gully public against me."

"I object to the term 'gully,'" said Robin in a laboured but sporting manner.

"Well--gulled if you like it better," said Lance. "Only that effect doesn't come on till I'm done with you. You are to go and dance lancers, Meredith, while I take your place with this slanderer." It was Lance's way of asking for the next dance.

Elma gave a great sigh of relief after Robin had gone.

"He never heard me say so much in his life before," said she. "He must have been awfully surprised."

"How you can say a word to the fellow--but there, n.o.body understands you Leightons. You ought to have poisoned him. Or perhaps Mabel is only a little flirt."

He wisped a thread of the gauze of her fan.

Elma smiled at him. She was always sure of Lance.

"I say, Elma, what are we to do with Mother Mabel when she comes back?

Does she mind this business, or are we allowed to refer to it in a jovial way?"

"Jovial, I think," said Elma. "I believe Mabs is awfully relieved."

She bent over and whispered to Lance.

"I should myself you know if I had just got rid of Robin."

Lance laughed immoderately.

"He's a rum chap," he said, "but he's met a good match in Isobel. Great Scott, look at the stride on her. She could take Robin up and twist him into macaroni if she wanted to. I'm sorry for him."

"What are you going to do for Sarah?" he asked abruptly.

"Sarah?" asked Elma with her eyes wide.

"Yes, you'll have to marry the girl or something. It's hard nuts on her.

Why don't you get Symington back and let him make up the quartette?"

"Mr. Symington?"

"Yes. It would be most appropriate, wouldn't it? Robin and Isobel, and Symington and Sarah. It's quite a neat arrangement. You've provided one husband, why not the other." Several demons of mischief danced in Lance's eye.

"Oh, Lance, don't say that," said Elma; "it's so horrid, and--and common."

"Oh, it's common, is it," said Lance, "common. And I'm going to be your stockbroker one day, and you talk to me like this."

"Look here, Lance, I'd trust you with all my worldly wealth on the Stock Exchange, but I won't let you joke about Mr. Symington."

"Whew," said Lance, and he looked gently and amiably into the eyes of Elma.

"When you look good like that, I know you are exceedingly naughty. What is it this time, Lance?"

"Nothing, Elma, except----"

"Except----"

"That I have found out all I wanted to know about Symington, thank you."

"You are just a common, low little gossip, Lance," said Elma with great severity. "Will you please get me a nice cool gla.s.s of iced lemonade."

CHAPTER XXIV

The Ham Sandwich

Elma lay on her bed in the pink and white room. The first warm spring sunshine in vain tried to find an opening to filter through partly closed shutter and blinds. A nurse in grey dress and white cap and ap.r.o.n moved silently in the half-light created by drawn blinds and an open door She nodded to Mrs. Leighton who had just come in and who now sat near the darkened window. The nurse pointedly referred her to the bed, as though she had good news for her.

Elma opened her eyes. Their misty violet seemed dazed with long sleep.

"Oh, mummy, you there?" she asked.

"Yes," said Mrs. Leighton quietly.

Elma looked at her inquiringly.

"Is there anything you want?" asked Mrs. Leighton in answer to that expression. How often had they asked the same question uselessly within the past weeks!

Elma looked up at the white walls.

"Yes, mummy, there's one thing. I should like a large ham sandwich."

"There," said Nurse emphatically. "That's it. Now the fight is really going to begin."

"I should like to have plenty of b.u.t.ter on it and quite a lot of mustard," said Elma.

"Mustard?" said Mrs. Leighton helplessly. "Do you know what's been wrong with you all these weeks?"

Elma moved her eyes curiously, there being not much else that she could move. It had never dawned on her till that moment to wonder what had been wrong with her.

"No, mummy," she said, "I haven't a notion."