CHAPTER VIII.
The Entertainment at the Shop.
The botanical lecture passed off very well indeed, and was productive of real and permanent advantage to Harbour Green, by giving to Myra Witherington a totally new study of character. She talked so completely like Herr Hartstong for the rest of the day, that even her mother was deceived, and would not enter the drawing-room till she had changed her cap, in consideration of the totally new voice which she heard proceeding from within. Strange to say, Harry Thornleigh, who last time had been so contemptuous, had now thrown himself most cordially into Lady Mary’s plans, so cordially that he made of himself a missionary to gain new converts for her.
“I will take those books you promised to Mrs. Smith, and try to persuade her to come to the lecture. Is there anyone else I can look up for you, Aunt Mary?” said this reformed character.
“Do, Harry; go to the Red House, and to the Rectory, and tell them half-past twelve precisely. We did not quite settle upon the hour,” said Lady Mary. “And you might ask Sissy Witherington to send round to some of the other people; she knows them all. You will meet us at the schoolroom? So many thanks!”
“I shall be there,” said Harry, cheerily, marching off with his books under his arm.
If Lady Mary had not been so busy, no doubt she would have asked herself the cause of this wonderful conversion; but with a lecture to attend to in the morning, and an entertainment at night, what time had she for lesser matters? And she had to send some servants to Berkeley Square to get the rooms ready, as the family were to dine and sleep there; altogether she had a great deal upon her hands. Harry had his difficulties, too, in getting safely out of the house without Phil, who, abandoned by Edgar, and eluded by his cousin, was in a very restless state of mind, and had determined this morning, of all others, not to be left behind. Harry, however, inspired by the thoughts of Mrs. Smith, was too clever for Phil, and shot down the avenue like an arrow, with his books under his arm, happy in his legitimate and perfectly correct errand, to which no one could object. He left his message with the Witheringtons on his way, for he was too happy not to be virtuous, poor fellow. It damped his ardour dreadfully to find that no plea he could put forth would induce Margaret to go to the lecture.
“I don’t take any interest in botany,” she said, “and I have no time for it, to keep it up if I began.”
“What of that,” said Harry; “do you think I take an interest in botany?”
“But you are a great florist, Mr. Thornleigh,” she said, demurely. It was some time before he remembered his pretence about the flowers.
“I shall bring you some specimens of my skill to-morrow,” he said, laughing, with a flush of pleasure. At least, if she would not come to-day, here was an excuse for making another day happy—and as a lover lives upon the future, Harry was partially consoled for his disappointment. I don’t think he got much good of the lecture; perhaps no one got very much good. Ellen Gregory did not come, for botany was not in her list of subjects for the pupil-teachers’ examination, and Lady Mary did not take any notes, but only lent the students the encouragement of her presence; for she could not, notwithstanding what she had said, quite disabuse her own mind from the impression that this was a young-lady-like science, and not one of those which train the mind to thought. So that on the whole, as I have said, the chief result was that Myra “got up” Herr Hartstong to the great delight of all the light-minded population at Harbour Green, who found the professor much more amusing in that audacious young mimic’s rendering than in his own person.