All this time Raymond stood swaying about from one leg to another, with his hands in his pockets. He had received the best of educations, as his mother proudly declared; but this had not conferred ease of manner or social grace. Lucy could not help longing that he would sit down; but it seemed to be against the young man’s principles. He stood between her and the window, swaying about like a cloud upon the wind, but solid enough to shut out the light. Miss Rushton was a very big girl of sixteen in short frocks, who kept half behind her mother, and took shelter under her wing.
“And what are you going to do, my dear, now you have come back? I hope we shall see a great deal of you. You will find yourself a little lost here just for the first The Fords are excellent people, but you will find yourself a little lost. You must run over to us whenever you feel dull. To-morrow there is some croquet going on—are you fond of croquet? You must come early and have a game, and stay to dinner. In this hot weather we never dress for dinner, for we always have a walk in the cool of the evening. Is that a bargain?” said Mrs. Rushton graciously. “And you must bring little Jock. Do you walk with him as you used to do, Lucy? I think, as a girl, you were the very best sister in the world.”
“Jock and I ride,” said Lucy; “he was always fond of riding. Lady Randolph sent the horses and the groom, and Jock’s pony. She thought I might have them here.”
“Certainly, Lucy,” Mrs. Rushton said, with many nods of her head. “That I am sure your guardians would approve. And what a lucky thing for you, Ray! Now you can get up all sorts of delightful parties. Emmy is beginning to ride very nicely too, and you like it, don’t you, dear? They will be so glad to join. I am so delighted to have found something in which you can all join.”
“It will be very jolly,” said Raymond. That and “How d’ye do?” was all that he contributed to the conversation. And Emmy said nothing at all, except, in shy murmurs of assent, and stifled explosions of laughter when her mother said anything she thought amusing. The two young people preceded Mrs. Rushton down-stairs when she had said all she had to say; but she came back again, once more seized Lucy’s two hands, and added a parting word in her ear.
“I see that friend of yours, that Mrs. Stone, coming this way. She is very well in her own place, Lucy; oh, very nice! I thought she behaved badly to me about Emmy; but that is neither here nor there. Everybody speaks very highly of her—in her own place. But you must not let her get you into her hands, dear. She is dreadfully managing, and by hook or by crook she will have her own way. But you are in a different sphere altogether. Don’t forget, my dear Lucy, that you are in a different sphere. I felt that I must just say this. You know what an interest I take in you. Dear child!” said Mrs. Rushton with enthusiasm, giving Lucy a sudden and tender kiss of irrestrainable feeling; “who would not take an interest in you, so young and so nice and so lonely? Till to-morrow, dear—”
Mrs. Stone met Mrs. Rushton going down. “So it is true that Lucy has come back,” said that able tactician. “I heard a rumor, and was coming to inquire, when they told me she was here.”
“Just come. My husband being her guardian, I felt that she had a special claim upon me, poor dear child. I am afraid she is tired with her journey, and agitated with all the associations. I have only been there a moment; I would not stay. I felt it was kindness to postpone a longer visit.”
“Thank you for the hint,” said Mrs. Stone, calmly pursuing her way upstairs; and she too took Lucy into her arms, if not with enthusiasm, yet with the most affectionate interest; she kissed her, and then held her at arm’s length, and looked into her face, “You are very welcome back, my dear,” she said, “but, Lucy, there is something new in your face.”
“Is there?” said Lucy faintly. “I am a little tired; and then there are so many other things that are new.”