Then there was a pause of universal dismay, for they had all enjoyed themselves very much, and disliked the idea of breaking up. Mrs. Hunstanton alone went on working placidly, and the murmur of Reginald’s voice, who was playing patience at a table, and whispering the value of the cards to himself, became suddenly audible. The impatience of the whole company with Reginald cannot be described. “My dear boy,” said the rector sharply (in a tone which meant You odious idiot!), “couldn’t you just count as well if you did it to yourself?”
“What has the boy done?” said Mr. Hunstanton with surprise. “Yes; we must bolt. I don’t know how that may affect your plans, Diana.”
“I have no plans,” she said. “I came here by the light of nature, because you were all here——”
“And you will come away in the same manner,” said Mr. Hunstanton briskly. Sophy turned round and transfixed him with her eyes, or would have done so had his middle-aged composure been penetrable, or had he seen her, which had something also to do with it. But he did not see her, and, good man, was perfectly easy in his mind.
“Well, I confess I shall be sorry,” said the rector, “and so, I am sure, will be my dear Bill. We have had a very agreeable visit, nice society, all centring round the Church in the most delightful way, and so many charming people! I shall be very sorry to think of breaking up.”
He stopped somewhat abruptly, with unexpected suddenness, and in the silence, more audible still than Reginald’s whispering, came a sort of groan from the burdened bosom of the curate, who stood behind-backs in his usual place, and who had felt himself covered by his uncle’s speech. This made everybody look up, and there was a faint titter from Reginald, by way of revenge for the rector’s rebuke. It was Sophy who had the boldness to take up this titter in the wild stinging of disappointment and dismay.
“Why should you feel it so much, Mr. Snodgrass?—what does it matter to you? You will have to go home to the parish whether or not!” she cried.
“Sophy, hush, hush! Yes, dear Mr. Hunstanton, how pleasant it has been!” said Mrs. Norton. “What a blow to us all to break it up! I should like to stay here for ever, winter and summer. It would not be too hot for me. For I can never be grateful enough to Italy,” she added, impressively, “for restoring health to my dear child.”
This called the general attention to Sophy, whose blooming countenance, a little flushed by vexation, looked very unlike any possible failure of health. Sophy was as near crying as possible. She had to put force upon herself to keep the tears out of her eyes.
“Let us not make ourselves miserable before the time,” said Diana. “It is not May yet; there is a week of April left. Let us gather roses while we may, and in good time here is Mrs. Winthrop and our musical people. Sophy, come and help to get the songs out. We can talk of this another time.”