She had adapted herself to circumstances in order to find a modus vivendi; for she was poor and ignorant, and would have found it difficult to obtain another post. But sometimes she was frightened, of late, at the heat of the fires which she had kindled.
The animal side of these big, country-bred, well-fed girls was strongly developed, and cried for a vent. Their starved minds gave them no contrast, no resources. They were without the influences of dancing, drilling, tennis, cycling—without the stimulus of sheer hard brain-work, the thrilling interests of school-life and girl-friendships. There was nothing to stem the flood of their growing consciousness of sex. Gwen especially, vigorous and full-blooded, had arrived at a dangerous crisis.
Meanwhile, Melicent was beginning to find life empty and depressing.
From the moment of the arrival of Mrs. Dow's invitation, her cousins discussed Lance Burmester, Alfred Dow, and young Freshfield, from morning to night, except for those monosyllabic portions of time which they spent under their parents' eye. They talked of the way these young men walked, the colour of their eyes, the shape of their collars, the sound of their voices, their little manners and expressions. They meant no harm. They only needed an outlet for that natural craving for romance, which their mother thought proper to ignore.
Melicent laboured hard to find a field for her own superfluous energy. On the first morning after her arrival, she had risen early, made her bed, aired her room, borrowed the housemaid's brush, swept and dusted.
Her aunt did not, for two or three days, discover what she was doing. But when she did, she was scandalised. What would the servants think? Millie showed herself inclined to esteem but lightly the possible amazement of the two clumsy girls who formed the Vicarage staff. But her domestic efforts were straitly forbidden.
On the following morning, awake as usual, and roaming into the schoolroom while the household slumbered, she marked her uncle in the kitchen garden at work, patient and lonely, filling up the hours that must elapse before he could get his breakfast. She went and offered her vacant moments. He replied that her aunt would not like it. She was urgent, and he, wavering, presently allowed her to help him dig potatoes. They did not talk, but she worked with nimble capacity; and when she appeared again next morning, he surprised in himself a sneaking feeling of gladness.
But that day, Mrs. Cooper discovered the new pursuit; and it was stopped.
Millie, however, was not to be defeated. She next turned her attention to her cousin's dress; and, finding some stuff which had been lying in the house for months, cut out and made up blouses for Maddie and Gwen. This last matutinal pursuit found more favour; and henceforth the girl's fingers were fully occupied, though her mind continued to crave.
It was in wild spirits that the party started for Crow Yat, which was a fine old house, standing much lower down the Dale, and for a wonder, built of red brick, and not grey stone. It had been the shooting-lodge and toy of a baronet of George II.'s time, who had tired of it, and sold it to Alfred Dow's ancestor.