She looked wistful and longing, but not a bit perturbed.
“I wish I could come! It sounds charming. I’ve hardly ever been on the river, never in the evening; but I should be worrying about father all the time. He is old, you see, Una, and he has such bad pain, and his days seem so long. It must be so sad to be ill and know that you will never get any better, and to have nothing to look forward to.” Her face lit up suddenly, and I knew she was thinking of the time, years ahead, when what she was looking forward to would come true. “I really could not neglect father for my own amusement.”
“But you have someone else to think of!” I reminded her cunningly. “I told you who was coming. You ought to think of his pleasure.”
“Oh, he will enjoy it in any case! He loves being on the water; I am so glad you asked him!” she cried, quite flushed with delight, if you please, at the thought that Will was coming without her. I did feel a worm! Never, no, never could I be like that. If I were engaged to a man and couldn’t go anywhere, I should like him to stay at home too, and think of me, and not dare to enjoy himself with other girls; but Rachel is not like that. Sometimes I wish she were just a wee, tiny bit less sensible and composed. I could love her better if she were.
We all went down to the boat-house at eight o’clock, we girls with long coats over our light dresses, because it’s silly to catch cold, and so unbecoming, and on the way I told Will about Rachel. He came at once and walked beside me, and gave me such a nice look as he thanked me for thinking of it.
“That was kind of you! She would be pleased to be remembered, but this sort of thing is out of her line. She will be happier at home!”
Poor Rachel! That’s the worst of being chronically unselfish; in the end people cease to give you any credit for it, and virtue has to be its own reward, for you don’t get any other. I did think it was hard that even Will should misjudge her so, and be so complacent about it into the bargain, but it was hardly my place to defend her to him, of all people in the world.
“You will come into my boat, of course,” he said in his masterful way when we drew near the ferry; but I had seen Vere divide parties before now, and I knew very well I should not be allowed to go where I chose. It was as good as a play to see how she did it, seeming to ponder and consider, and change her mind half a dozen times, and to be so spontaneous and natural, when all the time her plans had been made from the very beginning. Finally, she and Will took possession of the first boat, with Lady Mary and Captain Grantly, who were always together, and were too much taken up with their own society to have eyes for anyone else. Miss Talbot, Mr Nash, Mr Carstairs and I went into the second boat—Miss Talbot furious because she felt it a slight to be put with a child like me—Mr Carstairs depressed as he generally was, poor man!—I with a heavy weight inside me, feeling all of a sudden as if I hated parties and everything about them, and dear little Mr Nash, happy and complacent, cracking jokes to which no one deigned to listen. Isn’t it funny to think how miserable you can be when you are supposed to be enjoying yourself? I dare say if you only knew it, lots of people have aching hearts when you envy them for being so happy. The people on the banks looked longingly at us, but three out of the four in our boat were as cross and dissatisfied as they could be; and it made it worse to hear them enjoying themselves in the other boat; Vere’s trills of laughter, and Lady Mary’s gentlemanly “Ha, ha!” ringing out in response to the murmur of the men’s voices. When you are on land with the wrong people there is always the chance of a change, but you do feel so “fixed” in a boat! I simply longed to reach the lock, and felt as cross as two sticks, until suddenly I met Mr Carstairs’ eyes, looking, oh, so sad and hopeless, and I felt so sorry that I simply had to rouse up to cheer him. He must know perfectly well that Vere doesn’t care for him, but he seems as if he could not help caring for her, and staying on and on, though he is miserable all the time, I like him! He has a good look in his face, and talks sensibly about interesting things, instead of everlastingly chaffing or paying compliments, which seems to be the fashion nowadays. I think I shall favour his suit, and try to help him.
I talked, and he looked first bored, and then amused, and in the end quite interested and happy, so that we drew up by the bank to join the others in quite a cheerful mood, much to my relief. It is humiliating to look left out in the cold, however much you may feel it.
Vere was flushed, and unlike herself somehow. She fussed over the laying out of the supper, and it wasn’t like Vere to fuss, and whenever she wanted anything done she always turned first of all to Will Dudley, and half the time he was looking the other way and never noticed what she ask, when poor Mr Carstairs did it at once and got snubbed for his pains.