Chapter Ten.
Introductions.
In the drawing-room, after dinner, Mrs Thornton made herself agreeable to the two girls, and was evidently full of interest and curiosity.
“Having the Court open again will make a great deal of difference to the village in general, and to ourselves in particular,” she said, smiling. “Mr Farrell has been so invalided of late years that we have seen nothing of him, and it is quite an excitement to dine here again. Dr Braithey told us whom we were to meet, and that, of course, added greatly to the pleasure. I hope you will like the neighbourhood, and enjoy your visit. You must let me help you in any way that is in my power. I hope you will, for I love being with young people and making them happy.”
One glance at the kindly face of the speaker proved the truth of her assertion, and both girls assented gladly. A few hours’ acquaintance had proved Mrs Wolff to be a mere figurehead of a chaperon, and Ruth shrewdly suspected that her very weakness had been the attraction in Mr Farrell’s eyes, since, in consequence, she would be less likely to hinder that display of character and self-will which it was his object to study. Failing Mrs Wolff, then, it was a comfort to meet this brisk, motherly woman, who might be depended on as a helpful confidante.
Mollie glanced at the heaped-up fire, and, with a sudden impulse of friendliness, pulled forward an armchair, saying eagerly—
“Do sit down! Let us all sit down and be cosy till the men come; and will you tell us about the neighbourhood and the people we shall know? We are to be here for three months, and uncle says we can entertain as much as we like. He wants us to entertain, but of course we must know the people first. Do you suppose we shall have many callers?”
Mrs Thornton laughed merrily.
“There’s no doubt about that, my dear. Everybody who is anybody within a radius of a dozen miles will think of nothing, and speak of nothing, and dream of nothing else but you and your cousins until they have made your acquaintance. We have not much to excite us in the country, and to have the Court open again, with four young people to act as hosts, is a sensation of the first water. There will be a stream of callers after you have appeared in church on Sunday. You will have a busy time driving over the country returning their calls, and after these formalities are over the invitations will begin. I don’t think you will find any lack of hospitality.”
The girls looked at each other with tragic glances which said “One black dress!” so plainly to their own understanding that it seemed as if everyone else must interpret the meaning. Ruth flushed, and asked hurriedly—
“Are there many girls like ourselves living pretty near?”
“Oh dear, yes; girls are never at a discount in a country place. Let me see, now, how shall I describe them! In the village itself there is Dora Braithey, the doctor’s daughter, a very good, useful worker in the parish; and Lettice Baldwin, who lives with her widowed mother; and the three Robsons, who are what they call good sportsmen, and go in for games; and further afield there is Honor Edgecombe of Mount Edgecombe, a charming girl, and very musical; and Grace and Schilla Trevor; and the Blounts at the Moat have a London niece, Lady Margot Blount, who pays them a long visit every year. She is staying there now, and is sure to call. She is very elegant and distinguished-looking, and we all admire her immensely. My husband thinks her a model of everything that a girl should be.”
Ruth and Mollie, staring fixedly into the fire, were naughtily conscious of a dislike towards the immaculate Margot, who had suddenly loomed on their horizon as a formidable rival in the favour of the neighbourhood, while Mrs Thornton unconsciously proceeded cheerily with her recital—
“Of course there are many more, but I am mentioning the most attractive. We have a few young men, too, and most of the big houses have constant visitors for shooting or fishing, so that you can manage to get partners if you want a little hop now and then. And then, as you would suppose, I hope you will find time to take an interest in the parish. I don’t ask you to take up any active work, for, of course, as visitors your time will not be your own, but I should like to tell you of our various clubs and enterprises.”
“I hope you will not only tell us of them, but show them to us as well. Uncle Bernard wishes us to do exactly as we choose, so our time is our own, and I should like to do some work. I should feel so idle doing nothing but enjoying myself,” cried Ruth eagerly.
Mrs Thornton’s smile of approval had a somewhat wistful expression.
As her husband had done before her, she looked at these two young girls, and wondered if the time to come would see one of them acting the rôle of the squire and patron, and as such holding almost unlimited power over the parish. They seemed kindly, natural creatures, who would be well disposed towards the vicar and his family; and a woman had more understanding of little things than any mere man.
In the flash of an eye Mrs Thornton’s mind reviewed the damp patch on her drawing-room wall, the ill-fitting windows which let in a constant draught; the hopeless ruin of the tiny conservatory, wherein she reared her precious “bedding-outs.”
She could not but remember that other squires not only kept their vicar’s house in order, but assisted in sending sons to college, daughters to finishing schools, and expressed their interest in the family in a hundred helpful ways; but Mr Farrell had seemed unconscious of the very existence of her precious olive branches, and had never gone beyond the bare duties of his position.
Mrs Thornton was no vulgar schemer for her own benefit, but just a mother of a large family, struggling to make the most of a small income; and a quick repentance for the selfishness of her dreams prompted the desire to help these two young things who were suddenly called upon to fill a difficult position.
“Remember, I am always to be found at home or somewhere about the village. You will soon get to know my haunts, so that you can run me to earth if you need my services. Just come in and out as you like; the oftener you come the better I shall be pleased, for I am so anxious to help you, if you will allow me.”
“We will, we will! it is lovely of you to offer; and do please help us now!” cried Mollie eagerly, as the sound of an opening door was heard in the distance, and footsteps crossed the hall towards the drawing-room. “Talk, talk; do talk! I tried before dinner, and got snubbed for my pains; and we are such strangers that it is difficult to know what to say next.”
Mrs Thornton laughed.
“I’ll do what I can,” she promised good-naturedly. “Someone may suggest to Mr Farrell a game of whist. He used to be a crack player, so I don’t think he can resist the temptation, and that would leave you young folks free to make each other’s acquaintance.”
As she spoke the gentlemen entered the room and approached the group by the fireside. Judging from their appearance, the last half-hour had not been particularly lively, for the vicar looked tired and worried, and the young men unmistakably bored. Mr Farrell’s set face showed few changes of expression, but a faint gleam of pleasure manifested itself at the mention of his favourite game, and presently the four elders of the party were occupied, while the younger members stood together in a somewhat embarrassed silence.
Left entirely to their own resources, no one knew what to say or what to do; each girl looked first at her partner of the dinner-table, and then shyly across at the other stranger who was to be a daily companion during the next three months. Ruth met no answering glance, for Jack Melland was frowningly regarding the carpet; but for the first time Mollie had a direct view of the eyes which were habitually hidden behind Victor Druce’s thick eyelashes, and was surprised to find how bright and friendly was their expression.
“Shall we investigate the conservatory?” he said at once, as if answering an unspoken appeal. “They won’t want us to stay here and interrupt the game. I think we had better make a move.”
“But may we? Would Uncle Bernard like it?”
“May we! Are we not told to amuse ourselves in any way we choose? Of course we may,” he replied laughingly, leading the way forward, while the others followed, nothing loth.
The conservatory opened out of the drawing-room by means of a long glass door, which, being shut, made it into a separate room. A room it was, rather than the ordinary glass passage, for it had a wide, open floor, broken only by spreading palms standing in wooden boxes, and in the midst an old-fashioned pink camellia-tree. Stands of flowers encircled three sides, and a lamp stood out from the walls in a bracket. Given a few rugs and accessories, it would have made an ideal lounge. As it was, there was no provision for visitors, and it was evident that no one but the gardener took the trouble to enter. Mr Druce looked round rapidly, spied a wooden box under one stand, a stool under another, and brought them forward one after another, flicking off the dust with his handkerchief.
“You must have something to sit on. Can you manage with these, or shall I bring chairs from the drawing-room? I don’t want to make a noise if I can help it.”
“No, no; please don’t! These will do perfectly. But what will you do, and Mr Melland? You must not stand all the time.”
“Oh, don’t trouble about us! We can look after ourselves,” responded Jack Melland, pushing the flower-pots nearer together on the staging, and lightly swinging himself into the vacant space. Victor followed his example, and thrust his hands into his pockets.
For the next few minutes silence reigned while the young men took in and quite obviously admired the charming picture made by the two girlish figures against the background of flowering plants.
Ruth’s stool had been placed against the camellia-tree, and the pink blooms matched the soft flush in her cheeks, and relieved the sombreness of her black attire. Thus placed she looked charmingly pretty, and held herself with an air of dignity, which was a new accomplishment.
Ruth was an adaptive creature, tremendously influenced by the surroundings of the moment. At home her little head was wont to droop with despondency, and the consciousness that she was poor and unknown and shabbily dressed. At the Court she was intensely, delightfully assured of being Miss Farrell—of possessing the family features, and of being, so far, the recipient of her uncle’s greatest favour. And so Ruth now leant back with an air of languid elegance, smiling sweetly at her companions.
Mollie’s bright head peeped from beneath the shadow of a palm. She held in her hand a spray of heliotrope, which she had picked in passing, and from time to time bent to smell the fragrance, with little murmurs of delight.
But Mollie was obviously longing to say something, and when the time came that she met Jack Melland’s eye she suddenly plucked up courage to put it into words.
“Don’t you think we ought to introduce ourselves properly?” she cried eagerly. “We have been told each other’s names, and talked politely at dinner, but that’s not really being introduced. We ought to know something about each other, if we are to be companions here. I don’t know if you two know each other; but we did not know of your existence until to-day. My mother used to stay at the Court when she was a bride, and she loved Aunt Edna, and has often talked to us about her; but she knew very little of her relations, and for the last twenty years or more she has never seen Uncle Bernard until he suddenly descended upon us last week.
“We live in the North—in Liverpool. People in the South seem to think it is a dreadful place; but it isn’t at all. The river is splendid, and out in the suburbs, where we live, it’s very pretty, near a beautiful big park. The people are nice, too. We are rather conceited about ourselves in comparison with the people in the towns round about. You have heard the saying, ‘Manchester man, Liverpool gentleman,’ and we are proud of our county, too. ‘What Lancashire thinks to-day, England thinks to-morrow.’ I really must boast a little bit, because South-country people are so proud and superior, and seem to think that no one but themselves knows how to speak or behave. Someone said to me once, ‘You live in Liverpool, then why haven’t you a Lancashire accent?’ I was so cross. What should she have thought of me if I had said, ‘You live in London, why don’t you speak like a Cockney?’ We are not at all ashamed, but very proud indeed, of coming from the North-countree.”
“‘Oh, the oak and the ash,
And the bonnie ivy tree,’”
chanted Victor, in a pleasant baritone voice, at the sound of which Mollie flushed with delight, and cried eagerly—
“Ah, you are musical! That’s nice. We must have some grand singing matches, but you mustn’t sing that ballad. It’s Ruth’s special property. She sings it with such feeling!
“‘And the lad that marries me,
Must carry me home to my North-coun-tree!’”
“Mollie!” Ruth’s tone was eloquent of reproof, but Mollie only laughed, and said easily—
“Oh well, of course, if you inherit the Court you will have to change your plans. I wish I could lift it up bodily and put it down among the dear Westmorland mountains; but I’m afraid that’s impossible. I think that is all the history we have. No two girls could possibly have led a less eventful life. We have had no money to travel and see the world, and we are not in the least bit accomplished, but we have had a happy time all the same, and we mean to be happy, whatever happens; don’t we, Ruth?”
Ruth did not answer, but sat with downcast eyes, staring at the ground. She more than half disapproved of Mollie’s candour, despising herself the while for so doing, so she preserved a dead silence, until Jack Melland nobly stepped into the breach.
“Well, if you are North-country, Miss Mollie, I suppose I am Colonial. I was born in India, where my father’s regiment was stationed. He died when I was a youngster, and my poor little mother had a hard struggle to keep herself and me. If a fortune had come to us in those days it would have been a godsend, and she would probably be with me now; but she died eight years ago, and I am alone in the world, with no one to think of but myself. I have dingy diggings and a garrulous landlady, but, like you, I manage to have a very good time. I am interested in my work—I’m interested in life generally. I mean to make something out of it before I am done.”
He threw back his head with a proud, self-confident gesture. Young, strong, high-spirited, he felt at that moment that the world lay at his feet. All things seemed possible to his unaided powers, and the thought of help was repugnant rather than welcome. The two girls looked at him with the involuntary admiration which women pay to a strong man, while Victor Druce smiled his slow, inscrutable smile.
“A good thing for you that you are not in my profession, Melland! A barrister can’t push; he must sit still and wait his turn. I have been waiting a long time, and I can’t say that I seem much nearer the Woolsack. Still, one can amuse oneself in London, and I have my home in the country to which I can retire whenever I need a rest. My old parents are alive, and one sister—an invalid. Altogether, I have nothing to complain of in the past, and the future looks pleasant just now. Three months in this charming place—in such society!”
Victor Druce made a graceful little bow, which took in both the girls, and his glance lingered on Mollie bending forward, the spray of heliotrope still raised to her face.
“Stealing already, Miss Mollie! You will get into trouble with the authorities. How do you know that plant was not being specially preserved for exhibition at a show?”
“I hope it wasn’t; but it’s no use telling me to do as I like, and then to object if I pick a flower. I shall pick them every day—several times a day. I shall always be picking them! I think I shall take the care of this house altogether, and do the watering and snip off the dead leaves. I love snipping! And I shall arrange the flowers on the table, too; they are very badly done—so stiff. Just like a man’s taste!”
The two men smiled at each other, while Ruth protested quickly—
“No, you can’t, Mollie. I’m the eldest, and I’ve ‘barleyed’ it already. You can arrange the vases in the drawing-room, if you like.”
“Thank you, ma’am!” said Mollie calmly. “Just as you like.”
Judging from the fervour with which she had stated her intentions a moment earlier, the listeners expected that she would dispute her sister’s mandate and hardly knew how to account for her unruffled composure. But, in truth, Mollie was already reflecting that flowers took a long time to arrange satisfactorily, and that it would be a bore to saddle herself with a regular duty. Much more fun to let Ruth do it, and criticise the results! She sniffed daintily at the heliotrope, turning her head from side to side to examine the possibilities of the conservatory.
“Well, anyway, I shall take this place in hand! It will make a lovely little snuggery, with rugs on the floor and basket-chairs everywhere about, and an odd table or two to hold books and work, and tea when we like to have it here. I’ll have a blind to the door, too, so that we shan’t be surprised if visitors are shown into the drawing-room. Is there a door of escape, by the way? I hate to be penned up where I can’t run away to a place of safety.” She peered inquiringly round the trunk of the palm, whereupon Victor Druce slid down from his perch, and walked to the further end of the floor.
“Yes, there’s a door here. If you see anyone coming for whom you have a special aversion you can get out, and hide in the shrubbery. I promise not to tell. Perhaps I may come with you. I am not fond of afternoon calls.”
“Don’t encourage her, please, Mr Druce,” said Ruth quickly. “Mollie talks a lot of nonsense which she doesn’t mean; but if people are kind enough to come here to see us, she must not be so rude as to refuse to see them. I am sure Uncle Bernard would be very angry if we did not receive them properly.”
But Mollie was obstinate this time, and refused to be put down.
“How do you know?” she asked rebelliously. “He might be very pleased with me for sharing his own retiring tastes! He said himself that he approved of what other people would consider a fault. Perhaps he likes unsociability. There’s as much chance of that as anything else!”
Victor Druce came back from his tour of investigation, but instead of taking his former seat, leant up against the stem of a huge palm-tree, whose topmost leaves touched the glass roof, folded his arms and looked down at the two girls with an intent, curious scrutiny.
“It’s an odd position,” he said slowly, “a very odd position for us all to be plunged in at a moment’s notice! None of us have any knowledge of Mr Farrell’s tastes, so any attempts to please him must be entirely experimental. If we please him we may thank our good fortune; if we offend, we can, at least, feel innocent of any bad intentions. It’s rather a disagreeable position, but I expect the poor old fellow shirks being left to himself any longer, though he would die rather than acknowledge it. It’s dull work being left alone when one is ill. Personally, it is extremely inconvenient for me to be away from home for three months, but I shall manage it somehow. One can’t refuse a request from a man in his condition, and it would be a pleasure to cheer the poor old fellow a bit, even at the cost of one’s own comfort.”
There was silence for a moment after he had ceased speaking. Jack Melland stared at the ground, and swung his feet gently to and fro. Ruth knitted her black brows, and Mollie looked puzzled and thoughtful. It was a kind speech. She would have liked to admire it thoroughly, but—did it ring quite true? Was there not something unnatural in the avoidance of any reference by the speaker to his own possible gain?
“I’m afraid I didn’t think much of Uncle Bernard; I was too busy thinking of myself. I want to have a good time!” she said bluntly. “It’s a lovely, lovely house, and the grounds are lovely, and the spring flowers are coming up, and we can live out of doors, and be as happy as the day is long. I am not going to worry my head about the money, or anything else. I’ll be nice to Uncle Bernard in my own way, as nice as he will let me; but he said that we could enjoy ourselves, and I am going to take him at his word, and do every single thing I like. It’s an opportunity which may never occur again, as the shop people say in their circulars, and it would be foolish not to make the most of it.”
“I want the money!” said Ruth clearly. The pretty flush had faded from her cheeks, and she looked suddenly wan and white. The hands which were resting on her knee trembled visibly. She had evidently strung herself up to what she considered a necessary confession, and her eyes turned to one after another of her companions in wistful apology.
“I want it dreadfully! I have been poor all my life, and have longed to be rich, and I would rather live here, in this house, than anywhere else in the world. If we are going to live together and be friends we ought to be honest with each other from the beginning. It’s selfish, but it’s true! I want the money, and I mean to do every single thing in my power to get it.”
“Bravo!” cried a man’s voice suddenly. Mollie was frowning and biting her lips in obvious discomfort; Victor Druce’s drooping lids once more hid his eyes from sight as he stood with folded arms leaning against the palm. It was Jack Melland who had spoken—Jack Melland, roused for once to display unqualified approval and enthusiasm. He bent forward on his seat, hands in his pockets, his tall, lithe figure swaying gently to and fro as he faced Ruth with his bright blue eyes.
“Bravo, Miss Farrell! I admire your honesty, and wish you good luck. You are perfectly justified in doing all you can to gain your point, and I sincerely hope you may be successful. It is only right that a Farrell should inherit the Court, and if you were the old man’s grand-daughter, you could not possibly be more like him.”
Ruth flushed, but did not reply. Victor Druce’s measured voice cut like a sword across the silence.
“You are unselfish, Melland! Are you quite sure that you share the honesty which you admire so much in Miss Farrell? Have you forgotten how the question affects yourself?”
Jack Melland jumped lightly to the ground and straightened his long back.
“Unselfish or not, it’s the truth. The question does not affect me at all. I am not going to stay!”