As the days passed by and Christmas drew near, the proposed party in honour of Hilda's attaining her majority became a matter of absorbing interest to the three girls—an interest which, when the invitations had been issued, was shared by many others at Woodham.
Would Mr. Glynne accept or decline? Was there any possibility of his remaining at Woodham for Christmas? Aldyth could not answer these questions. She knew that Mr. Glynne's sister was recovering from her fever, but whether her convalescence had advanced to such a stage as to render it safe for him to return home for the holidays, she could not say. Somehow during the last few weeks, John Glynne had fallen out of the habit of paying frequent visits to Miss Lorraine's cottage; nor had the Blands seen much of him of late. But the examinations were taking place at the Grammar School. It was a busy time for the masters; there was no difficulty in accounting for the fact that Mr. Glynne had little leisure to bestow upon his friends.
[CHAPTER X.]
HILDA BLAND'S PARTY.
THE party given in honour of Hilda's coming of age was an evening party of the good old-fashioned sort. Mrs. Bland's guests began to arrive about seven, and they knew that they were expected to retire shortly after midnight. The dining room was given over to the young people, who had planned some tableaux vivants for the entertainment of the company. The older and graver guests gathered in the drawing room. Supper was to be served in the breakfast room, part of the hall being curtained off cleverly as an addition to its limited space.
The evening passed brightly away. The tableaux proved a grand success. Kitty persuaded John Glynne, who was present, to take part in them, and his perfect self-control and remarkable immobility of feature made him a valuable addition to the actors. The tableaux in which he appeared as Charles VII., whilst Kitty made a spirited-looking Joan of Arc, was the most successful of the series. Sundry amusements succeeded to the tableaux, and no one looking on the gay, animated scene could have imagined that care lurked in a single bosom there.
Hilda, the heroine of the occasion, looked charming, attired in white with a necklace of pearls, her mother's gift, adorning a throat scarcely less milky in hue. Her slight form, in its snowy drapery, had a fairylike prettiness, and her mother might be pardoned if her eyes sometimes rested upon this fair daughter with looks of pride.
Hilda wore, pinned to her gown, a bunch of Christmas roses and azaleas, and her delight in these flowers, which Guy had sent her with his congratulations, was unbounded till she saw that a lovely cluster of Maréchal Niel roses adorned Aldyth's black lace bodice, and knew that they also were a gift from Guy. The sight of them caused her a throb of pain, and with it came a dreadful presentiment that the evening to which she had looked forward with such eager anticipation was to yield her only pain and disappointment.
As the evening passed on, Aldyth became aware that Guy was paying but slight attention to Hilda, whilst, rather to her annoyance, she found him constantly beside herself. What did it mean? Had any misunderstanding arisen between him and Hilda? If so, it was a pity, for Aldyth, who had the sympathetic insight of a loving soul, could see that Hilda, though she did her best to maintain a gay demeanour, was not really enjoying herself. She felt certain that she should hear the truth, sooner or later, from Guy, who was to stay the night at Miss Lorraine's. Meanwhile she made an attempt to rid herself of his unwelcome attentions.
"Nonsense, Guy," she said, when he came to ask her hand for a dance. "I am sure you would rather have Hilda for your partner. Why do you keep aloof from her to-night, of all nights? Surely you two have not quarrelled?"