Chapter Twenty One.
A Vow of Friendship.
The next morning at ten o’clock the Italian servant was entrusted with a message from his master which created a wild excitement in the Rendell family. Mr Vanburgh was restored to his usual health, and wished to celebrate that fact, and provide at the same time a little entertainment for his nephew, by giving an alfresco luncheon in the garden, to which he invited his friends at Thurston House. The meal would be served under the beech-tree on the lawn, and Mr Vanburgh hoped to welcome his guests at one o’clock precisely.
“But not all of us! There are six of us—six women—not to mention Mr Talbot. Mr Vanburgh cannot mean to include the school-room party! The elder ones will be delighted to accept, but—”
“Mother!” gasped Christabel. Agatha laid hold of the back of a couch, and prepared to faint on the spot, and the Italian looked from one to the other, a gleam of amusement showing in the dusky eyes.
“My master would be much disappointed, madam. He wishes especially the young signorinas. I am to bear an invitation also to Mrs Maitland and to Miss Kitty.”
That settled the matter! If Kitty were going, it would be nothing short of cruelty to keep her companions at home, so Mrs Rendell sent a general acceptance to the invitation, and shrugged her shoulders resignedly as each of the five girls hugged her in turns, and deafened her with questions.
“Mother, what shall I wear?”
“Mother, my piqué skirts have not come home from the wash! I wish you would leave that horrid laundry. It’s the third time—”
“Mother, will my pink blouse do? It’s the nicest I have, and it’s only a little bit soiled on the sleeves, and if I wore clean cuffs—”
“Mother, need I change? Can’t I go as I am, and be happy? I might want to climb over a fence, and it’s such spiky work.”
“Mother, I think we should all go dressed alike in white dresses and blue ties, and march across the road in a crocodile. Do let’s! It would be such fun!”
Mrs Rendell pressed her hands to her head in distracted fashion.
“If every single one of you is not out of this room in two minutes from now, I’ll retract, and send a refusal instead! Get away to your work! I’ll see you separately later on, if you want instructions, but surely girls of your age ought to be able to dress without my assistance! The only thing I bargain for is that you are not alike, for that would only accentuate your number, and as it is I feel ashamed to appear with such a battalion.”
“Lilias, need we go?” Ned Talbot slid his hand through his fiancée’s arm, and drew her into the garden. “If the party is too large, why should we not reduce it by two, and have a quiet little lunch by ourselves? I must leave before four o’clock, and if we go to the Grange it will mean that we have no more time together, for we cannot run away immediately after lunch. Mr Vanburgh would understand our position if we sent an excuse.”
“Oh, Ned!” cried Lilias, and the tone of reproach was so eloquent that there could be no mistaking her wishes on the subject. “Oh, Ned, the first time we have been asked! Our first invitation! You couldn’t really wish me to refuse it. I should be so dreadfully disappointed. You don’t know how much we have longed to be asked, or what castles in the air we have built about this day!”
“Very well, dear; don’t trouble yourself. We will do just as you please,” said Ned wearily. He tried to convince himself of the reasonableness of Lilias’s position, and to show no sign of resentment; but the jar was there all the same, and seemed to set up a barrier between them in all they did and said. If any one had foretold that he should feel time drag heavily in Lilias’s company, and cast about in his mind for subjects on which to talk, how he would have derided the idea! yet, alas, it had come true, for he felt a distinct sense of gratitude towards Nan when she thrust her head out of a bedroom window and summoned Lilias to her assistance. When there is no sympathy in the great principles of life, small talks become increasingly difficult, as this poor fellow was discovering to his cost.
Punctually at one o’clock the door of Thurston House was thrown open, and Mrs Rendell was discovered standing upon the threshold, issuing final directions to her flock.
“Stop talking! My dear, good girls, if you insist upon speaking all together, how am I to make myself heard? Pray calm yourselves, and behave like reasonable beings. Don’t let me have the humiliation of taking about a crowd of excited children who might never before have been outside their own gate!” Then she marched majestically ahead, with the demure Elsie as her companion, while the engaged couple followed, and each of the three remaining girls fell back in turns to cast a critical glance at her companions. Half-way across the road Nan’s belt was discovered to have parted company with the skirt, and the most strategic measures were necessary in order to secure it before her mother reached the door of the Grange.
“And remember, all of you, not to put your arms round her waist! The pin will stick out, whatever I do with it,” said Christabel darkly; then the door was thrown open, and the butler led the way across the hall towards the entrance to the garden. Each member of the visiting party was consumed with curiosity to examine the beautiful objects on either side, but had too much ado to keep her footing on the slippery oak floor to have any attention to spare. Lilias clung to Ned’s arm, Mrs Rendell and Elsie minced along with tiny footsteps, and Nan waited until no one was looking, and then gave giant strides from one mat to another, or clung to a friendly rail to help her round slippery corners. Then at last the garden was reached, and there, beneath the trees, stood an enchanted table, laden with everything that was beautiful in the way of glass and china, and banked up with a wealth of pink roses.
Mr Vanburgh’s couch was drawn up at its head, and Kitty Maitland sat at his side, bearing herself with that preternatural solemnity of manner which she invariably adopted along with her best dress and hat. A moment later Mrs Maitland and Gervase appeared from behind a tree, and the elders shook hands and murmured the meaningless speeches common to such occasions, while Kitty took an early opportunity of stepping to Chrissie’s side, and calling her attention to the splendours on the table in a series of awed and breathless whispers.
“Gold spoons! Venetian glass! It breaks if you look at it! I daren’t drink a drop out of those tumblers, and I’m so thirsty! Such cream! Such strawberries!—big as peaches, my love, and such lots of them. I feel like the Queen of Sheba. There’s no spirit left in me, it’s all so grand and gorgeous.”
“I like it. It suits me! I was born to splendour!” said Chrissie, with an air. “I call it awfully sweet of him to do the thing so well. But what a dreadful number of knives and forks! I shall never know which to use. I wish I had asked mother about it before we came, for I do so detest making mistakes. Before a butler, too—so humiliating! And yet I don’t want to refuse anything I can help!”
“Don’t refuse! Take all that comes, and crumble bread until you see how other people eat it. That’s my dodge when I go out to lunch with mother. I say, how do you like the nephew? Doesn’t he look ex-actly like the tailor’s advertisement that you see in the shop windows? I have never seen any man look like that before, and want to pinch him, to see if he is real. Do you suppose it’s possible to be so handsome, and yet as nice as if he were ugly, like Jim?”
“Jim! Jim ugly!” gasped Jim’s outraged sister furiously. “Gwendoline Maitland, you are raving! Jim is the best-looking man I know, and I’ll tell him the moment that he comes home that you said—”
“Jim won’t mind. I told him so myself last year. He asked how I liked his moustache, and I said it was ‘stubbly,’ and he said moral worth was better than brilliantine. There’s none of your nasty pride about Jim.”
Chrissie glared, but Kitty refused to be annihilated, and crinkled her nose in sauciest defiance, whereupon her companion stared into space with an expression of disdain. An onlooker would have concluded that a serious quarrel had taken place; but such small interludes were of common occurrence in the friendship of these two young women, and five minutes later they were pinching each other in the most amicable manner, and whispering, “Sit by me! Sit by me!” as if true happiness could not be enjoyed apart.
During the meal which followed there was ample opportunity of “crumbling bread,” for the Vanburgh cook had received instructions to eclipse himself for the young ladies’ benefit, and the succession of curious unknown dishes which he sent to table would have puzzled more experienced “diners out” than the members of the present party. A prettier scene could hardly be imagined than the table under the trees, with the green lawn sweeping away on either side, the foreign servants flitting to and fro, and the six girlish faces of the guests beaming with delighted approval. Elsie’s eyes grew large and dreamy, as she mentally rehearsed the most appropriate language in which to chronicle the event in her diary. Such expressions as “Arabian Nights entertainment,” “Green sward,” and “Princely Splendour,” figured largely in the description, which ran to an inordinate length, and still seemed to have left half the wonders untold.
Nan spoke little during the meal, but, like the proverbial parrot, noticed much. She noticed that, though the utmost courtesy was maintained between uncle and nephew, the elder man was evidently annoyed by the persistent nonchalance of the younger; and she had a shrewd suspicion that Gervase knew as much, yet did not trouble himself to rectify it. She noticed that, while Ned was depressed, Lilias’s mood was of the gayest and sweetest; and she noticed that Gervase noticed as much, and studied the lovers narrowly from his point of vantage across the table. She heard dear old Agatha discussing politics with her host, and quoting her father wholesale in her gallant attempt to be grown up and important; and she chuckled audibly over the two schoolgirls’ enjoyment of the fare. Then at last the meal was over, and she heaved a sigh of relief that all had passed off without catastrophe and with credit to the family. No one had broken the fragile glass, no one had betrayed a plebeian ignorance of the convenances, nor showed ill-bred surprise. They had examined the menu with an understanding air, as though every other name was not as Greek to their ears, and had refrained from any signs of approval more noticeable than pressures of feet under the table, and occasional sly joltings of elbows.
The two ladies stayed beside Mr Vanburgh, while
the younger members of the party strolled about the grounds, Gervase Vanburgh first walking with Lilias, and then making an excuse to cross to Nan’s side. He smiled as he came, and his first words showed that he had grasped the situation without any need for words.
“I shall get myself disliked if I stay there any longer! Mr Talbot leaves in another hour, I think, so it is hardly fair to him to engross your sister.”
“But how do you know anything about Mr Talbot? I never told you,” cried Nan in amaze; and Gervase smiled in his aggravating, lazy fashion as he replied—
“Oh no, you simply said that ‘a friend of Lil—a friend of my brother Jim’ was staying with you at present. That was all, I think. You gave me no information.”
“Which means that I did, of course, and blurted out everything in my stupid, headlong fashion,” sighed Nan dolefully. “It doesn’t matter much in this case, for a good many people know; but mother wishes it kept as quiet as possible, because—”
“Just so. But I assure you that even without your hint I should have discovered for myself that they were at present engaged; so there is no necessity to blame yourself.”
Nan wheeled round upon him with flashing eyes.
“Why do you say ‘at present’?” she demanded; and Gervase smiled in impenetrable fashion.
“Did I say so? Foolish slip! They are engaged, of course. I wish Miss Lilias every happiness, and congratulate Mr Talbot on his good taste. She is certainly a lovely girl.”
“Oh, isn’t she?” cried Lilias’s sister gladly. “I knew you would say so. You see now how absurd it was to mistake me for her, and what a difference there is between us! I knew quite well you would be surprised.”
Gervase Vanburgh put back his head, and stared at her with a scrutiny which was not without a touch of cynicism; but the eager face he met was at once so frank and so honest, that the sneer faded from his lips and gave place to a smile.
“Yes,” he said slowly, “there is a great difference. I cannot imagine two people more unlike. You are complete contrasts in every respect.”
“She is so fair, and I am dark,” sighed Nan, a trifle abashed by so vehement an assent, but striving loyally to conceal her discomfiture. “Lilias is our beauty, and we are all very proud of her; but you cannot really know the family until you have met Maud. Maud is the eldest sister, and the best and sweetest of them all. She isn’t pretty, but she is such a dear that every one loves her. ‘Maud of all work’ Jim calls her, because she is always helping other people and forgetting herself.”
“Most exemplary, I’m sure. Excellent example!” drawled Gervase with a yawn, at the sound of which the last trace of Nan’s patience gave way. She stood still in the path and fixed him with a glittering eye; but the speech which swelled in her throat was slow in coming, choked back by very excess of emotion. Gervase, in some alarm, demanded the cause of her agitation, and received a straighter answer than he expected.
“I don’t care to speak about Maud to a person who only sneers at her goodness. If you don’t mind, I’d rather talk about the weather, and the garden, and things that don’t matter; and then I can keep as indifferent as you are yourself, and we sha’n’t quarrel.”
“I sneer! I beg a hundred pardons, Miss Nan, if I have appeared to sneer at anything you say; but I assure you that I have never yet voluntarily sneered at goodness; so that in this instance at least you are doing me an injustice. You must believe me, please, for I am thoroughly in earnest.”
“Yes, I see you are. I’m sorry that I misjudged you.”
“And I am sorry too. You are sorry, I am sorry, we are both sorry, so now suppose we drop this subject and start afresh. I’d like to be friends with you if you will; for I expect we shall see a good deal of each other in future, and it would distress my uncle if we disagreed. Do you think you could sign a treaty of friendship with me?”
“Well,” said Nan slowly—and then paused, too honest to pledge her word without counting the cost—“I could, but I’m not sure that it would last. We are so different. Would you mind answering one personal question?”
“I’ll answer fifty with pleasure if it’s in my power.”
“Then have you known some awful trouble? Has something dreadful, heart-breaking, happened to you, which you are trying to cover up and hide from the world?”
Gervase stared at her in amazement, which ended in a laugh.
“Certainly not! I have had an absolutely smooth life—too smooth, I am afraid, for the growth of character. Now I wonder what made you take such an idea into your head!”
“I thought perhaps your heart was broken, and that was why you took no interest in anything that was going on.”
“Do I take no interest? I was under the impression that I took a great deal—sometimes; but I have learned to conceal my feelings. You may not perhaps be aware that English boys are educated in this fashion, nowadays. At a public school it is considered ‘bad form’ to be enthusiastic on any subject. ‘Not bad’ or ‘pretty decent’ are the superlatives of praise, and anything more emphatic is sure to be snubbed. Perhaps I have been too apt a disciple in that school.”
“I call it a hateful school! and if I had a hundred sons I would not let one of them be trained under such an influence. If a boy is not to be enthusiastic when he is young, when will he be, pray? Youth is the time for noble dreams, for enthusiasm which carries all before it. It is the enthusiasm of youth which keeps the world moving. None of your languid half-measures for me!” declaimed Nan dramatically, backing into a flower-bed in her earnestness, and trampling half a dozen begonias beneath her heels. “Life is real—life is earnest!”
“It is indeed,” cried Gervase, laughing; “and so, if you will permit me to say so, is my uncle’s gardener, when he is roused! Begonias, I fancy, are his special passion. Miss Nan, you will have to be friends with me whether you will or not, for our natures are so different that we could be of infinite service to each other. You could inspire me with your own enthusiasm, and I, in my turn, could curb and restrain you.”
“But, dear me,” cried Nan, “I don’t want to be curbed!” Then she looked at the begonias, and her face fell. “But I suppose, like all disagreeable things, it would be good for me; so I’ll be friends, if you like, Mr Vanburgh, and take my share of the discipline.”
“I feel much honoured. It shall be my endeavour to be as little disagreeable as I can,” said Gervase Vanburgh, with his courtly bow; and thus were the deeds signed in a friendship destined to have far-reaching consequences.