A Colonial Cousin
Violet, who was herself extremely fond of practical jokes, was determined to turn the tables upon Diccon.
"I owe him one or two little things, for he often plays tricks on Rhoda and me at the Vicarage," she said to Mildred. "The difficulty is to hit upon anything really good. It won't be easy to take him in. I shall have to think and think. Oh, I verily believe I've got it! Enid's the very girl! She'd love it! Oh, it fits in capitally!"
"Who's Enid?"
"She's a distant relation from New Zealand—a kind of second cousin, once removed. She and her people are in England for a year, and we met them in town last June. They're staying with the Harcourts at present, only twenty miles away, and I'll persuade Mother to let me invite Enid for the day on Saturday. The car can fetch her and take her back. We'll ask Diccon to come to make up a set at tennis, and then spring a surprise on him. Father and Mother were out in New Zealand five years ago, and they brought home native costumes and all sorts of beads. Yes, I see my way splendidly! I believe he'll really swallow it whole. Mildred, can you keep your face absolutely, in an emergency, and not laugh?"
"I'll do my best," returned Mildred.
Violet laid her plans carefully, and after Enid had accepted the invitation for Saturday she sent a note to the Vicarage asking Diccon to tennis. The members of the Somerville family often came to The Towers to make up sets, and as Diccon was a better player than his brothers, it occasioned no particular surprise that he should be invited alone. He arrived therefore about three o'clock, quite unsuspiciously. Violet and Mildred were waiting for him in the garden.
"I want to introduce you to a friend of ours," began Violet; "a third cousin, in fact. She only came this morning. She's over from New Zealand."
"I'd forgotten you had any colonial relations," observed Diccon.
"Oh, yes! A great-uncle of Mother's went out to Auckland years and years ago, and married a native. I had just a peep at this cousin when we were in London. Of course she's very peculiar-looking, but we like her, don't we, Mildred? I rather admire her dark complexion."
"She's absolutely ripping!" affirmed Mildred cordially.
"I thought I'd better prepare you for the fact that she's a real New Zealander," continued Violet. "Come along and see her. She's sitting in the gun-room. She seems to like it better than anywhere else in the house."
"Queer taste for a girl," commented Diccon.
"She enjoys being amongst weapons," explained Violet. "I suppose it's a savage instinct. It takes a long time to eradicate the old Adam. Her New Zealand grandfather was a very warlike character."
"Swung a tomahawk, did he?"
"They're not called tomahawks in New Zealand. You're thinking of Fenimore Cooper's American Indians. But never mind, come and be introduced to Rata."
"Is that her name?"
"Yes; don't you think it's pretty?"
"Oh, well enough! Look here, what am I to say? Does she speak English?"
"Quite decently. You'll have no difficulty in understanding her. I shall just introduce you."
"And what then?"
"Why, you must shake hands. She'll expect it. She's given up rubbing noses since she came to England."
"Oh, I say!" murmured Diccon faintly. "I don't think I feel quite well. My head aches."
But Violet ignored his plaintive excuse, and firmly led the way to the gun-room. Squatting on a low stool near the window, reading a New Zealand paper, was a decidedly queer-looking figure—odd, at any rate, to English eyes. The face and hands were very dark, and both cheeks and forehead were tattooed all over with an intricate pattern in red and blue. A magenta silk scarf was tied over the head, completely hiding the hair, and a huge pair of ear-rings drooped over the dusky neck. The girl was dressed in a bright petticoat, with a striped rug flung round her shoulders; her wrists were loaded with native-looking bangles, and she wore slippers of plaited grass. She took no notice at all when the door opened, but simply went on reading.
"I'm glad you warned me beforehand," whispered Diccon. "Isn't she pleased to see us?"
"Oh, yes! But she's not used yet to our customs. Remember, she has been brought up in New Zealand ways. Rata, here's a visitor to see you," continued Violet aloud. "Won't you speak to him?"
At this direct appeal, the colonial cousin rose from her stool, and bowed with a certain stately dignity. She did not offer to shake hands, and Diccon, fearful that she might relapse into her old habit of rubbing noses, kept cautiously in the background.
"You must be awfully glad to come to England," he stammered, for want of anything else to say.
"It is a great pleasure for me to see my father's country," she replied in a decidedly foreign accent, "and to meet the relations who are so kind to me. Lady Lorraine promises to take me everywhere. To-day I go to tennis and to a dance."
Diccon looked hastily at Violet, who nodded in confirmation.
"The Tracys 'phoned asking us to go to tennis at The Chase this afternoon, and wouldn't take a refusal. They said we must bring you and Rata with us, and that we must all stay to supper, and they would have a little dancing afterwards; just May's and Frank's friends."
"I believe I ought to show up at a Band of Hope meeting at six o'clock," declared Diccon desperately.
"What rubbish! You certainly won't be needed there. We've told the Tracys you're coming with us; they'll be offended if you don't. Father and Mother are getting ready now. We've ordered the car for half-past three. I wonder how the sets will be arranged this afternoon? You're a good player, Diccon, so you'd better take Rata. She hasn't had much practice in English courts, so you must look after her and teach her."
Diccon's face was a study.
"Wouldn't your cousin have learnt better on the lawn here?" he urged eagerly.
"Oh, no! She'll enjoy going to the Tracys, and I'm sure you'll be able to give her hints. By the by, we want her to have a nice time at the dance afterwards, and plenty of partners. Will you ask her for the first waltz? It's always well to fill up one's programme beforehand."
"I'm—I'm afraid really I shan't be able to stay for the dance," stammered Diccon. "Shan't have any togs with me, you see."
"That's all right," returned the inexorable Violet. "We've sent Fletcher to the Vicarage to ask your mother to pack your bag with anything you'll need. Rata, this is your partner for the first waltz. You won't forget?"
"No, no, I not forget," replied the soft foreign voice.
"Run and get ready now, dear! We mustn't be long. Mildred and I are going to put on our hats and coats. You'll wait here for us, Diccon, won't you?"
The girls walked away with their extraordinary foreign guest, and Diccon remained in the gun-room in a very dejected and disconsolate frame of mind. He would have "done a bolt", but he did not care to risk offending the Lorraines. He was accustomed to Violet's autocratic ways, and knew that she would not forgive him if he refused to fall in with her wishes. Yet his very hair rose on end at the idea of going out for the afternoon and evening in the company of this New Zealand damsel, to whom he was expected to pay so much attention.
"I don't know how the Lorraines can stand it," he thought. "If I had such a cousin thrust on me, I'd die of shame."
So far from seeming ashamed of her outlandish relation, Violet evidently regarded her with the utmost complacency. Rata herself did not seem to realize that her appearance was singular; perhaps, indeed, she considered it more pleasing than that of her European friends, and was longing to suggest tattooing as an aid to beauty. Nevertheless, that Diccon, a member of his school cricket team and the winner of three silver cups, should be required to play tennis and to dance with this indescribable savage was an outrage on his feelings. Why, he would be a laughing-stock! If anyone else would take the first turn with her, he would not mind quite so much, but to make a start! Oh, it was sickening! He would have shammed illness if there had been the slightest chance of being believed. If he did not look pale, he looked decidedly sulky as Violet came downstairs into the hall.
"Here we are!" she said sweetly. "I'm afraid we've kept you waiting a little. You see, it took rather a long time to change Rata's dress. She decided, after all, that she wouldn't go to the Tracys in Maori costume."
Diccon turned, and could not restrain a gasp of surprise. Instead of the extraordinary native, Violet and Mildred were accompanied by a very pretty and elegantly-dressed girl of their own age, whose brown eyes were gazing at him with politely restrained amusement. Not a trace of tattoo marks upon that white forehead or those rose-leaf cheeks. The ear-rings were gone, also the magenta scarf, and her brown hair was tied at the back with a white ribbon.
"Good night!" exclaimed Diccon, subsiding weakly into a chair.
Then the three girls exploded, and laughed till they grew almost hysterical.
"It serves you right, Diccon!" gurgled Violet. "We've paid you out for the trick you played on Mildred at the Keep. Oh, I never thought we'd take you in so well. You believed every word, and looked so deliciously dumbfounded."
"Well, I'd heard before that Lady Lorraine's uncle had married a New Zealander," retorted Diccon.
"So he did, but she was a settler, not a Maori. Aunt Margaret Fowler was a daughter of General Berkeley, who distinguished himself very much in the native wars, on the British side, please! Our cousins are Colonials, but they're as Anglo-Saxon as we are by birth. By the by, Rata is only a pet name. I must introduce Enid properly—Miss Fowler!"
"I hope you liked my get-up?" enquired Enid, without a trace of the foreign accent. "It was rather elaborate, but we flatter ourselves it repaid our trouble."
"How did you do it?"
"We evolved it amongst us. I rubbed my face and hands with glycerine, and then powdered them with cocoa. It gave just the right Maori complexion. As for the tattooing, Mildred painted it. She copied it from a picture of a Maori woman in this New Zealand magazine, and I told her what colours to use. She did it splendidly. I felt loath to wash it off. We tied on the ear-rings with silk thread, and a few shawls and scarves and bangles did the rest."
"We might have had more fun out of it," said Violet regretfully. "I wanted to ask you to lunch, and for Rata to come to table in Maori costume. We'd planned that she was to talk about all sorts of old savage native customs. I did so hope you'd ask if she were still a heathen! But Mother said she and Father would never keep their faces, and the servants would have fits, so she wouldn't let me try the experiment. Admit now, Diccon, that it's 'the biter bit', and that you were just as much taken in as Mildred was at Tiverton Keep. Here's the car! Don't forget, by the by, that you've asked Enid for the first waltz."