“Come, let us get into a scrape again,” cried Sophy; “it is such a lovely night. Let us send the carriage on in front, and walk. Come with us, won’t you? After a party, it is so pleasant to have a walk; and we have been such swells to-night. Come, Bertie, let’s run on, and bring ourselves down.”
“Sophy, you madcap! I daresay the night air is not good for him,” said Kate.
Upon which Sophy broke forth into the merriest laughter. “As if Bertie cared for the night air! Why, he looks twice as strong as any of us. Will you come?”
“With all my heart,” said Herbert; “it is the very thing after such a tremendous business as Aunt Susan’s dinner. This is not the kind of entertainment I mean to give. We shall leave the swells, as you say, to take care of themselves.”
“And ask me!” said bold Sophy, running out into the moonlight, which just then got free of the clouds. She was in high spirits, and pleased with the decided beginning she had made. In her white dress, with her white shoes twinkling over the dark cool greenness of the grass, she looked like a fairy broken forth from the woods. “Who will run a race with me to the end of the lane?” she cried, pirouetting round and round the lawn. How pretty she was, how gay, how light-hearted—a madcap, as her sister said, who stood in the shadow of the porch laughing, and bade Sophy recollect that she would ruin her shoes.
“And you can’t run in high heels,” said Kate.
“Can’t I?” cried Sophy. “Come, Bertie, come.” They nearly knocked down Mr. Farrel-Austin, who stood outside smoking his cigar, and swearing within himself, as they rushed out through the little gate. The carriage was proceeding abreast, its lamps making two bright lines of light along the wood, the coachman swearing internally as much as his master. The others followed more quietly—Kate, Reine, and Everard. Giovanna, yawning, had withdrawn some time before.
“Sophy, really, is too great a romp,” said Kate; “she is always after some nonsense; and now we shall never be able to overtake them, to talk to Bertie about coming to the Hatch. Reine, you must settle it. We do so want you to come; consider how long it is since we have seen you, and of course everybody wants to see you; so unless we settle at once, we shall miss our chance—Everard too. We have been so long separated; and perhaps,” said Kate, dropping her voice, “papa may have been disagreeable; but that don’t make any difference to us. Say when you will come; we are all cousins together, and we ought to be friends. What a blessing when there are no horrible questions of property between people!” said Kate, who had so much sense. “Now it don’t matter to any one, except for friendship, who is next of kin.”
“Bertie has won,” said Sophy, calling out to them. “Fancy! I thought I was sure, such a short distance; men can stay better than we can,” said the well-informed young woman; “but for a little bit like this, the girl ought to win.”
“Since you have come back, let us settle about when they are to come,” said Kate; and then there ensued a lively discussion. They clustered all together at the end of the lane, in the clear space where there were no shadowing trees—the two young men acting as shadows, the girls all distinct in their pretty light dresses, which the moon whitened and brightened. The consultation was very animated, and diversified by much mirth and laughter, Sophy being wild, as she said, with excitement, with the stimulation of the race, and of the night air and the freedom. “After a grand party of swells, where one has to behave one’s self,” she said, “one always goes wild.” And she fell to waltzing about the party. Everard was the only one of them who had any doubt as to the reality of Sophy’s madcap mood; the others accepted it with the naive confidence of innocence. They said to each other, what a merry girl she was! when at last, moved by Mr. Farrel-Austin’s sulks and the determination of the coachman, the girls permitted themselves to be placed in the carriage. “Recollect Friday!” they both cried, kissing Reine, and giving the most cordial pressure of the hand to Herbert. The three who were left stood and looked after the carriage as it set off along the moonlit road. Reine had taken her brother’s arm. She gave Everard no opportunity to resume that interrupted conversation on board the steamboat. And Kate and Sophy had not been at all attentive to their cousin, who was quite as nearly related to them as Bertie, so that if he was slightly misanthropical and inclined to find fault, it can scarcely be said that he had no justification. They all strolled along together slowly, enjoying the soft evening and the suppressed moonlight, which was now dim again, struggling faintly through a mysterious labyrinth of cloud.