“It is already five,” she whispered. “Do you see those dark clouds? We shall have a thunder-shower soon; I think it would be better to start for home.”
“And be caught in the rain,” replied Edna, with a shrug. “And we have no umbrellas nor waterproofs. No, Bessie; we must take refuge at Mrs. Grant’s until the shower is over. Come along; don’t make a fuss. I do not want to go any more than you do, but it is no use getting wet through; we cannot help it if we are late for dinner.” And so saying, Edna again joined the talkative Mrs. Grant.
Bessie said no more, but all her uneasiness returned as she followed Edna. Mrs. Grant had temporary lodgings in the High Street, over a linen-draper’s shop. She ushered her young guests into a large untidy looking room with three windows overlooking the street. One or two of the other ladies joined them, and one officer after another soon found their way up the steep little staircase, for Mrs. Grant was noted for her hospitality. She called Edna to help her at the tea-table, and Bessie seated herself by one of the windows. No one took much notice of her; her good-natured partner at tennis, Leonard Singleton, was not among Mrs. Grant’s guests.
Captain Grant brought her some tea, and offered her cake and fruit, but he soon left her to devote himself exclusively to Miss Sefton. Bessie felt very dull, and out in the cold, and yet she had no wish to join the gay group round the tea-table. The room felt close and oppressive; the first heavy drops were pattering on the window; two or three children were running down the street with a yellow dog barking at their heels.
“You will get wet; shall I close the window?” observed a voice behind her, and Bessie started and looked round at the tall, solemn-looking young officer who had been introduced to her two hours previously as “Captain Broughton, not of ours, Miss Lambert.”
“Oh, no, I prefer it open, it is so warm,” replied Bessie hastily.
“Oh, ah, yes! Are you fond of polo?”
“I never saw it played until this afternoon; it is very exciting, but I am sure it must be dangerous.”
“Nothing to speak of; an accident now and then—man half killed last Thursday, though.”
“Oh, dear, how dreadful!”