Bee was asked, and she accepted; and just at the last she had to send an excuse. Nothing short of absolute necessity would have kept her away, since she realised what it might mean. But that very afternoon Mrs. Major was taken with an acute attack of illness, to which she was occasionally subject, connected with the heart, and serious enough to mean actual danger. Bee could not leave her. Neither could she fully explain; for Mrs. Major had an extreme dislike to being counted delicate; and Bee was under strict orders never to say a superfluous word about her mother's health. The doctor had similar instructions; and he alone, beside Bee and the faithful old "Nurse," knew how grave these attacks were, or might at any time become.
Nothing could have been more unfortunate than one happening just now. Ivor, on hearing of the excuse sent—that Mrs. Major was "very poorly," and that Bee could not be spared—naturally drew his own conclusions. Coupled with her cold manner, it meant of course that she wished to keep out of his way.
Partly, perhaps, in self-defence, and in consequence of the wet blanket to which he had been treated, he turned a good deal of his attention to Magda that evening. She was again at her best, in a prettily-made frock of thin black material, which suited the red-gold of her hair, and the bright curiously-tinted eyes. A spray of variegated leaves, chosen and fastened in by Merryl, gave exactly the right tone; and there was no other colouring to compete with it. She talked well too. She and Ivor exchanged ideas, played upon words, discussed opposite views, laughingly. He found her unformed, but clever, and on the whole refreshingly simple. It went for little, so far; yet the fact that she was the sister of his most intimate friend meant that they had many subjects in common.
For once Pen was in the background. Patricia showed herself, as always, daintily charming, moving amid a circle of admirers. The personality of the admirers mattered little, so long as they were there.
Magda was entirely occupied with Ivor—or rather, with Ivor's attentions. He managed to draw her out, as she had not been drawn out before. He made her sparkle, and showed her to herself in new and agreeable lights. A feeling of delighted gratification, which she did not attempt to analyse, filled her mind in consequence.
Two days later they again met at the Vicarage; and once more Bee, though invited, was absent, since her mother was still too ill to be left, though she might only hint at this. Ivor had no further doubts.
"A convenient excuse!" he said bitterly to himself.
Amy, full of remorse, would gladly have taken Bee's place in the sick-room; but it was not allowed; and, she knew Mrs. Major too well to venture on any full explanation to others. She too had been invited, and she had to go, since Bee was bent upon her having the pleasure. It was an evening which, for Amy, spelt the reverse of enjoyment.
Magda this time really shone. She seemed at one leap to have grown older, to have become less school-girlish, more handsome, more taking. A slight consciousness made her voice softer, her manner more restrained, than usual; yet with this came also a touch of increased confidence. She found in herself a power to please, which she had not known before; and the experience was delicious. Others watched her with a mingling of surprise and amusement. Magda was developing, they said. She was "quite coming out."
Amy Smith's sensations included no amusement. She grew inwardly furious, more and more furious, as the evening wore on. Bee's friend—to step in, like this, in Bee's absence!—To try deliberately to win Ivor's love away from her! It was scandalous! Disgraceful! Amy found it hard work to hold her wrath within bounds.