The voice, the manner, were absolutely normal. Was it possible that she had not seen? Darsie shot a quick glance at the old lady’s face, met an unconcerned smile, and for the first time in the history of their acquaintance felt a thrill of admiration. Splendid to have such self-control, to show no sign of surprise or irritation! She shook hands awkwardly with the three visitors, and sat down on the nearest chair.
“So awfully pleased to meet you!” cried Noreen gushingly. She was a smart-looking girl of sixteen, with brown eyes and a deeply dimpled chin. Darsie knew exactly what she was thinking—understood that the gushing manner had been adopted to disguise dismayed disappointment in the aspect of a possible companion. Ralph was quite old—eighteen at least, with well-cut features, thin lips, and small grey eyes, a dandy wearing a fancy waistcoat and resplendent white spats. His whole aspect breathed a loud, “I told you so! You would drag me with you. Told you how it would be. Lady Hayes’s grand-niece! What could you expect?” Ida was bubbling over with curiosity. What a fine story she would have to tell to the family party on her return!
Conversation would have dragged pitifully if it had not been for Aunt Maria’s efforts, for the visitors seemed smitten with dumbness, and beneath the fire of their glances Darsie’s embarrassment increased rather than diminished. She had no spirit left; a succession of monosyllables and an occasional “Oh, really!” made up the sum of her contributions to the conversation. It must have been a strong sense of duty which nerved Noreen Percival to offer the invitation which presumably was the object of her visit.
“We want to know if you will come to lunch with us on Thursday, and stay for the afternoon? If it’s fine, we can have some tennis. We will drive you back after tea.”
Darsie hesitated, but apparently the decision was not to be left to her. Aunt Maria accepted with a gracious acknowledgment of Mrs Percival’s kindness, and in answer to a scowl from Ralph his sisters rose and made a hasty adieu.
“We came in the governess cart. The pony gets restless—mustn’t keep him waiting. Thank you so much! Goodbye!”
They were gone; the outer door was shut behind them. Darsie, standing by the tea-table, caught a glimpse of her own reflection in a mirror at the opposite end of the room, a stiff, Dutch-doll of a figure, with plastered hair, crimson cheeks, and plain frock. She glanced at Aunt Maria reseating herself in her high-backed chair, and taking up the inevitable knitting. Now for it! now for the lecture! Well, after all, she had only done what had been suggested, a trifle more perhaps than had been suggested, but that was erring on the right side, not the wrong. Besides, if a naughty impulse to annoy and humiliate Aunt Maria had really existed, in the end she had been a thousand times more humiliated herself. And now, if you please, she was to be scolded and lectured into the bargain!
But Aunt Maria neither lectured nor scolded. All through that next hour when pride kept Darsie chained to her place, the older lady talked in her most natural manner, and even smiled at her companion across the patience-board without a flicker of expression to betray that the figure confronting her was in any way different from the one which she was accustomed to see.
Once more admiration vanquished irritation, and Darsie roused herself to join in the problem of “building,” and ended in actually feeling a dawning of interest in what had hitherto appeared the dreariest of problems. When seven o’clock struck, and the old lady closed the board, and said, in her natural, every-day voice, “And now we must dress for dinner!” Darsie walked slowly across the room, hesitated, and finally retraced her steps and knelt down on a footstool by Lady Hayes’ side.
“Aunt Maria—please! I should like to thank you!”