Guy coloured and smiled. He felt a little shy, but much as if he had stepped into a fairy-ring. Away from his own people and his perplexities, he was like another person, bright and gay, and was soon giving his invitation, and asking if Cuthbert Staunton had made his holiday plans, or if he could come to Ingleby for a bit, while he helped to hand round the tea and the tea-cakes, for the merits of which he had vouched in London. Thus, at his ease, he had a gentle, friendly manner and a pleasant face, as he dealt with the eccentricities of an “Etna” which refused to boil. Florella felt as if her short, childish intercourse with him had been longer and more recent.
“There!” he said, in a low, half-shy voice, as he glanced at Constancy, “I’m sure Mr Elton could not have made himself more useful.”
“It is humiliating,” said Constancy; “but that ‘Etna’ beat us! Would it if we had the franchise?”
Constancy did most of the talking. Florella sat silent and looked, as she mostly did, happy. The other girls thought that Cosy need not have made it so evident that she was amused by the intruding visitor. Presently a trap was seen coming along the rough, narrow road. One man only was in it, and as the sound of the wheels attracted his attention, Guy looked up and said, in a tone of surprise—
“That’s Godfrey!”
Another moment or two, and they saw the dog-cart stop at the farm; the driver dismounted, picked a long and hairy object off the seat beside him, together with a large basket, and came over the heather with long striding steps. In a minute Godfrey and Rawdon Crawley appeared at the top of the hollow.
“My aunt has sent me,” he began, but at sight of Guy a cloud fell upon his handsome, joyous face, his air of happy expectation faded entirely, and he paused in his speech. Constancy again came to the rescue. She introduced him all round, remarked with cool amusement on the odd chance that had sent both brothers to see them at once, and as Godfrey refused her tea, offered it to Rawdie, who had greeted first her and then Guy with simple cordiality. Guy fell silent, and watched his brother with slightly lifted brows, as if a new idea had struck him. He was quite cool, and not at all put out.
“Has Aunt Margaret asked the ladies to Waynflete?” he said.
“Yes, on Tuesday. She thought the Miss Vyners would like to see it again.”
“Immensely,” said Constancy. “She promised me to ask us.”