"None," he replied. "I must go, and by the first train, too."
My heart sank within me as I realised that the hope to which I had clung during the wakeful hours of the night was doomed to disappointment. Not yet was I to be reinstated in the estimation of my friend. Unconsciously I had cherished many pleasurable anticipations of the day's festivity. Now I shrank from the thought of it, but I little foresaw how different from my preconceptions everything would be.
[CHAPTER XVII]
A GALA DAY AT GREENTREE
GREENTREE HALL, the residence of Squire Canfield, as the countryfolk called him, was situated not more than a quarter of a mile from "Gay Bowers," measuring the distance as the crow flies. The entrance gates and pretty thatched lodge stood midway between the Vicarage and the village green. A fine avenue of elms led up to the Hall, which had been the home of Canfields for many generations. The present owner of the property, a man verging on old age, was a worthy descendant of the good old family.
John Canfield was justly proud of his venerable house and beautiful grounds. He employed several gardeners, and could boast the best-kept gardens in the neighbourhood. His head gardener was wont to win the chief prizes at most of the local flower shows. The extensive conservatories belonging to Greentree Hall were well worth seeing, and when they were in the perfection of their beauty the Squire would invite all his friends and acquaintances for many miles round to come and see them. The garden party, for which Mrs. Canfield issued invitations every June, was a festivity much appreciated in the locality, and by no means despised by town folk, for a good many visitors came from London by the mid-day express to assist at it. Mrs. Canfield was generally fortunate in having good weather for her entertainment. Never could she have had a more brilliant day than this promised to be.
Aunt Patty needed my help in various ways that morning, and I was glad to be well occupied. I saw hardly anything of Agneta before luncheon. She kept upstairs, and I fancied she was engaged in arranging some details of her dress for the afternoon. Mrs. Canfield, with whom Aunt Patty was on the most neighbourly terms, had begged her to bring her young people early, as she wanted our assistance in starting the games.
Her own daughters were both married; one, the wife of an Essex M.P., was coming from town with her husband for the day. Aunt Patty had promised that we would be there by three o'clock, for which hour the guests were invited.
My toilette was quickly made—a short, light skirt and a pretty blouse, specially designed by Olive for the occasion, gave me an agreeable sense of being suitably attired.
"You look as nice as possible, Nan," Agneta said, casting a careless glance at me as she fastened her shoe-string. "One cannot be very smart when one is expected to play tennis."