June was passing, and, unless she meant to accompany the others, something had to be arranged. Hermione was resolved against East Bourne. She had said she would not go, and go she would not. The mere fact of having once declared her will—even in a fit of passion—was enough to make Hermione stick to her own declaration. The question of right and wrong was subordinate to the question of having her own way—of not being "beaten" by Mrs. Trevor.
Hermione did not see in herself the contemptibleness of this small obstinacy—as she would have seen it in another.
She was seriously perplexed what to do. She had many acquaintances, but not many real friends. Her aim had been, unconsciously, rather to attract admiration than to win love; and the admiration had been hers, but not always the love. Mr. Dalrymple had encouraged real intimacy with very few families in the neighbourhood, and among these Hermione could think of no one who, from one reason or another, would be just then able to receive her.
The thought of the Daltons came up. As already said, Hermione cared little for them. They did not suit her, and she knew they had not suited her grandfather.
But she was bent upon some plan whereby the East Bourne trip might be escaped. Anything rather than to have to give in. Hermione felt little doubt of her own power to bring about an invitation to Dalton House, if she so willed. The Daltons would be only too delighted to push their acquaintance with the Dalrymples. As for what Harvey might think—
"I cannot help that; I must act for myself!" Hermione said, as she set off upon her lonely walk.
[CHAPTER XXVII.]
A PRIVATE ARRANGEMENT.
HERMIONE was shown into a lavishly-decorated drawing-room, which might have been taken as a very symbol of City wealth set-down in a country corner. She did not like the style of the thing, for her tastes had been educated in chaste lines, and the superabundance of money-outlay, witnessed to by every inch of the room, went against the grain with her. Even where beauty existed, it was spoilt by ostentation.
The three Daltons, father, mother, and daughter, appeared in quick succession, each more or less flurried, and all disposed to welcome her with empressement. Mr. Dalton was stout and plain, Mrs. Dalton plump and comely, Miss Dalton thin and excitable. They were charmed to see Miss Rivers, but amazed to hear that she had come on foot. What a pity that she had not driven! In her dear grandfather's time—but of course things were different now! Everybody was talking of it. But Miss Rivers would sit quiet and rest, and have a cup of tea presently; and by-and-by they would drive her home themselves—delighted to do so! No trouble at all to have the carriage out, but quite a pleasure—and all those lazy horses in the stables wanted exercise. Positively Mr. Dalton did not know how to give them enough.