CHAPTER XII
Buddy Wants to Know
Elizabeth had been to tea with the Farradays. The big, closed-in porch, which was practically their summer living room, gay with chintzes and strewn with all the appurtenances of luxurious modern existence, always gave her a little feeling of homesickness for the life to which she was used in town. The trim maid, quietly manipulating the tea wagon laden with the delicacies of the usual teatime meal, took on an almost pathetic glamour to the little exile.
Mr. Chambers was in possession of the wicker chaise-longue. Ruth had poured tea with deft and dainty fingers, though she was unusually silent, even for her. Mrs. Farraday, who was as unlike Elizabeth's mother as it was possible for her to be, had yet, in a gown of blue linen, with rose-coloured net cuffs and neck piece, managed to suggest her vividly.
Peggy had behaved abominably. In intervals of passing cakes she had managed to get out of the line of vision and stand grimacing and contorting her face at Elizabeth. Usage demanded that Elizabeth return these impudent salutations in kind, and twice Peggy nearly made her do so.
"I should have been mortified," she thought, "if Mr. Piggy Chambers had caught me making faces, especially since I would naturally make that kind of faces about him, if it happened so. I guess Ruth would never speak to me again."
"I can't help it," Peggy whispered, "these tea fights on the veranda, with Piggy—I mean Hoggy—Chambers and Mother knitting as if she had just eaten the canary, and Ruthie saying nothing and sawing wood, and the other self-sufficient member of our little circle sitting there and owning the universe—they just make me wild. I feel as if I would like to get an Indian tomahawk and scalp 'em all."
"I—I like tea on your veranda, though," Elizabeth couldn't help admitting. "Grandmother would think afternoon tea was ridiculous, and I am used to it in my own home. I'm used to having my own mother around, too."
"If your own mother were aiding and abetting the slaughter of your innocent sister," Peggy said, "you might not feel so excruciatingly fond of her. I didn't make that remark all up. Father said it first. Our family is just completely mixed up over the whole affair. There's one ray of light. Ruthie isn't mushy about any of it. Only she makes me nervous."
"I don't see how you can bear it at all," Elizabeth said. "I can't, hardly."