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diff --git a/41797.txt b/41797.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 246b5bc..0000000 --- a/41797.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11573 +0,0 @@ - THE STORY BOOK GIRLS - - - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost -no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - - -Title: The Story Book Girls -Author: Christina Gowans Whyte -Release Date: January 06, 2013 [EBook #41797] -Language: English -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY BOOK GIRLS *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - -[Illustration: Cover] - - - - - The STORY - BOOK - GIRLS - - - CHRISTINA - GOWANS - WHYTE - - - - LONDON - HENRY FROWDE - HODDER & STOUGHTON - 1906 - - - - - *THE GIRLS' NEW 1/- NET. LIBRARY.* - -(Crown 8vo. Cloth, with Coloured frontispiece.) - -A Girl of the Northland . . . BY BESSIE MARCHANT -The Story Book Girls . . . . . BY CHRISTINA G. WHYTE -Dauntless Patty . . . . . . . BY E. L. HAVERFIELD -Tom Who Was Rachel . . . . . . BY J. M. WHITFELD -A Sage of Sixteen . . . . . . BY L. B. WALFORD -The Beauforts . . . . . . . . BY L. T. MEADE - - HENRY FROWDE AND HODDER & STOUGHTON. - - - - - CONTENTS - - -CHAPTER I - -ELMA LEIGHTON - - -CHAPTER II - -MISS ANNIE - - -CHAPTER III - -THE FLOWER SHOW TICKET - - -CHAPTER IV - -CUTHBERT - - -CHAPTER V - -"THE STORY BOOKS" CALL - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE MAYONNAISE - - -CHAPTER VII - -VISITORS AGAIN - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE PARTY - - -CHAPTER IX - -AT MISS GRACE'S - - -CHAPTER X - -COMPENSATIONS - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE SPLIT INFINITIVE - - -CHAPTER XII - -THE BURGLAR - - -CHAPTER XIII - -A RECONCILIATION - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE FIRST PEAL - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE ARRIVAL - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE THIN EDGE OF THE WEDGE - - -CHAPTER XVII - -A REPRIEVE - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -"LOVE OF OUR LIVES" - - -CHAPTER XIX - -HERR SLAVSKA - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE SHILLING SEATS - - -CHAPTER XXI - -AT LADY EMILY'S - - -CHAPTER XXII - -THE ENGAGEMENT - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -HOLDING THE FORT - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -THE HAM SANDWICH - - -CHAPTER XXV - -THE WILD ANEMONE - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -UNDER ROYAL PATRONAGE - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -THE HOME-COMING - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -ADELAIDE MAUD - - -CHAPTER XXIX - -MR. SYMINGTON - - -CHAPTER XXX - -"NOW HERE THERE DAWNETH----" - - - - - CHAPTER I - - Elma Leighton - - -In a pink and white bedroom where two beds, Elma's and Betty's, seemed -the only pink and white things unspotted by multitudinous photographs, -Elma Leighton sought sanctuary. Pursued by a tumultuous accusing -conscience, which at the same time gracefully extended the uncertain -friendliness of hope, for who could say--it might still be -"embarr*ass*ment," she opened her little own bright red dictionary. - -She prayed a trifling prayer that her self-esteem might be saved, as she -turned shakingly the fine India paper of the 50,000 word compressed -edition of the most reliable friend she at that moment possessed in the -world. Parents commanded. Relations exaggerated. Chums could be -spiteful. But friends told the truth; and the dictionary--being -invariably just--was above all things a friend. - -She wandered to "en," forgetting in the championship of her learning -that "m" held priority. She corrected herself with dignity, and at last -found the word she wanted. - -It was emb*arr*assment. - -Woe and desolation! A crimson shameful blush ran up the pink cheeks, -her constant anxiety being that they were always so pink, and made a -royal progress there. The hot mortification of despair lent it wings. -She watched the tide of red creep to the soft curls of her hair as she -viewed herself in her own little miniature cheval between creamy -curtains, and she saw her complexion die down at last to an unusual but -becoming paleness. - -She had said "embarr*ass*ment." - -Nothing could have been more fatal. It was like a disease with Elma, -that instead of using the everyday words regarding which no one could -make a mistake--such as "shyness" in this instance--she should -invariably plunge into others which she merely knew by sight and find -them unknown to herself as talking acquaintances. Cousin Dr. Harry -Vincent, Staff Surgeon in His Majesty's Navy, eyeglass in eye, merry -smile at his lips ("such a dashing cousin the Leightons have visiting -them" was the comment), the sort of person in short that impressed Elma -with the need of being very dashing herself, here was the particular of -all particulars before whom she had made this ridiculous mistake. - -"Now," had said Dr. Harry in the drawing-room when visitors arrived, -"come and play something." - -Any other girl overcome by Elma's habitual fright when asked to play, -would have said, "I'm too shy." Elma groaned as she thought how easy -that would have been. - -But Dr. Harry's single eyeglass fascinated her as with a demand for -showing some kind of culture. - -She blinked her eyelids nervously and answered, "My embarr*ass*ment -prevents me." - -Dr. Harry never moved a muscle of his usually mobile and merry -countenance. But the flaming sword of fear cut further conversation -dead for Elma. She became subtly conscious that the word was wrong, and -fled to her room. - -"While I'm here," she said dismally, "I may as well look up -'melodramic.'" This was a carking care left over from a conversation in -the morning. - -It proved another tragedy. - -Being really of a cheerful sunny nature, which never for long allowed -clouds to overshadow the bright horizon of her imagination, she -acquainted herself thoroughly with the right term. - -"One consolation is, I shall never make that mistake again as long as I -live. Melodramatic," she repeated with the swagger of familiarity. - -Then "emb, emb--Oh! dear, I've forgotten again." - -Concluding that embarrassment was a treacherous acquaintance, she -decided to drop it altogether. - -"After this I shall only be shy," she said with a certain amount of -refined pleasure in her own humour. - -She regarded her figure dismally in the cheval. Her chubby face had -regained its undistinguished pink. She was sorry she could not remain -pale, it was so much more distinguished to be pale. - -"How long I take to grow up--in every way." She sighed in a reflective -manner. - -What she was thinking was how long she took to become like one of the -Story Book Girls. - -It is probable that she would never have run to long words, had it not -been her dearest desire to grow up like one of the Story Book Girls. It -was the desire of every sister in the Leighton family. Each worked on -it differently however. Mabel, the eldest, now seventeen, in the -present delights of hair going up and skirts letting down, took her -ideas of fashion straight from "Adelaide Maud" the elegant one. -"Adelaide Maud" wore her hair in coils and sat under heliotrope -parasols. Mabel surreptitiously tried that effect as often as five -times a day with the family absent. - -Jean threw all her ambitions on the sporting carriage of "Madeline" who -was a golfer. - -Betty determined to wear bangles and play the violin because "Theodora," -the youngest of the lot, did that. And Elma based her admiration of -"Hermione" on the fact that she had "gone in" for science. Long ago -they had christened their divinities. It did not do to recognize -latterly that the Dudgeons were known in society by other names -altogether. One can do these dreamy, inconsequent things with the most -superb pleasure while one's family remains between certain romantic -ages; in the case of the Leightons at the moment when Elma ran to her -bedroom--between the ages of ten and seventeen. Betty was ten, Elma -twelve, Jean fifteen and Mabel seventeen. - -It was an axiom with the girls that their parents need not know how they -emulated the Story Book Girls. Yet the information leaked out -occasionally. - -It was also considered bad form to breathe a word to the one elder -brother of the establishment. Yet even there one got into trouble. - -"Why on earth do you call her Adelaide Maud when her name is Helen?" -asked Cuthbert one day bluntly. "Met her at a dance--and she nearly -slew me. I called her Miss Adelaide!" - -"O--o--o--oh!" - -It is impossible to explain the thrill that the four underwent. -Cuthbert had met Adelaide Maud! - -"Did she talk about us?" asked Elma breathlessly. - -"Doesn't know you kids exist," said Cuthbert. - -Here was a tumbling pack of cards. - -However the idylls of the Story Book Girls soon were built up again. - -Four girls at the west end of a town dreamed dreams about four girls at -a still further west. They lived where the sun dropped down behind blue -mountains in the sunny brilliant summer time. The Story Book Girls were -grown up, of "county" reputation, and "sat in their own carriages." The -others invariably walked. This was enough to explain the fact that they -never met in the quiet society of the place. But one world was built -out of the two, and in it, the younger girls who did not ride in -carriages, created an existence for the Story Book Girls which would -have astonished them considerably had they known. As it was, they -sometimes noticed a string of large-eyed girls with a good-looking -brother, going to church on Sunday, but it never dawned on one of them -that the tallest carried a heliotrope parasol in a manner familiar to -them, nor that another exhibited a rather extraordinary and highly -developed golfing stride. Grown-up girls do not observe those in the -transition stages, and just at the fiercest apex of their admiration, -the Leightons were certainly at the transient stage. They reviewed their -own growing charms with the keenest anxiety. Everybody was hopeful of -Mabel who seemed daily to be shedding angularities and developing a -presence which might one day be compared with Adelaide Maud's. The time -of her seventeenth birthday had drawn near with the family palpitating -behind her. Mrs. Leighton remembered that delicious period of her own -youth, and was indulgently friendly, "just a perfect dear." - -"We are going to make a very pretty little woman of Mabel," she informed -her husband. He was a tall man, with a fine intellectual forehead, and -handsome, clear-cut features. He stooped slightly, giving an impression -of gentleness and great amiability. He answered in some alarm. - -"You don't mean that our little baby girl is growing up." - -"Elma declares that Mabel reaches her 'frivolity' in May," said Mrs. -Leighton sedately. A quiet smile played gently over a face, lined -softly, yet cleared of care as one sees the mother face where happy -homes exist. - -Mr. Leighton groaned sadly and rubbed his finger contemplatively along -the smoothed hair which made a gallant attempt at hiding more than a -hint of baldness. - -"Why can't we keep them babies!" - -"Betty thinks we do," said his wife. - -"One boy at College, and one girl coming out! It's overwhelming. We -were only married yesterday, you know," said poor Mr. Leighton. - -It troubled Mrs. Leighton that Mabel insisted on wearing heliotrope. -She had white of course for her coming out dress, and among other -costumes the choice of colours for a fine day gown. The blue eyes of -the Leightons were gifts handed down by a beneficent providence through -a long line of ancestors, and one wise mother after another had matched -the heavenly radiancy of these wide orbs as nearly as possible in sashes -and silks for the children. Therefore Mrs. Leighton begged Mabel to -have at least that one day gown in blue. - -"I begin to be sorry I said you might have what you liked," she said -dismally. "Heliotrope will make you look like your grandmother." - -"Oh no it won't," clamoured Jean. "It will only make her look like -Adelaide Maud." - -"Traitor," was the expression on three faces. - -Sporting Jean had really rather a dislike to the garden-party smartness -of Adelaide Maud, and occasionally prejudice did away with honour. - -"I'm joking," she said penitently. "Do let her wear heliotrope, mummy." - -Mrs. Leighton sighed amiably yet disappointedly, but at last gave Mabel -permission to wear heliotrope. They had patterns from Liberty's and -Peter Robinson's and Woolland's in London, and a solid week of rapture -ensued while Mabel saw herself gowned in a hundred gowns and fixed on -none. - -They sat over the patterns one day with Mrs. Leighton in attendance. -Mabel's choice lay between fifteen different qualities of heliotrope. - -"I shall have this," she said one minute, and "No, this" the next. - -"Patterns not returned within ten days will be charged for," quoted -Jean. - -Just then a certain rushing sound of light wheels could be heard. Each -girl glanced quickly out of the window. The clipity-clop of a pair of -horses might be clearly distinguished; and through the green trees -skirting the bottom of the garden, appeared patches of colour. - -Two Story Book Girls drove past, Adelaide Maud and Theodora. Theodora -was sitting in any kind of costume--what did _her_ costume matter? - -Adelaide Maud was in blue. - -The girls gazed breathlessly at one another. - -"I think you must really now make up your mind," said Mrs. Leighton -patiently, whose ears were not attuned so perfectly to distinction in -carriage wheels. - -Mabel glanced round for support. - -"Oh, mummy," said she very sweetly, "I do believe you were right. I -shall have blue after all." - -That was a few weeks before the great day when Mabel attained her -"frivolity" and put up her hair. Cousin Harry's being with them gave an -air of festivity to the occurrence, and curiously enough, Mrs. -Leighton's drawing-room filled with visitors on that afternoon as though -to celebrate the great occasion. - -Throughout her life Elma never forgot to link the delight of that day, -when for the first time they all seemed to grow up, with the despair of -her sallies in Cousin Harry's direction. - -When she did trail back to the drawing-room, crushed yet educated, she -found Mabel with carefully coiled hair standing in a congratulatory -crowd of people, looking more like Adelaide Maud than one could have -considered possible. - -"Such excitement," whispered Jean, "Mrs. Maclean has brought her nephew -and he knows the Story Books." - -It put immediate thoughts of having to explain to Cousin Harry out of -Elma's mind. - -"Oh, do you know," she said excitedly to him, "I want one thing most -awfully. I want to know Mr. Maclean so well in about five minutes as to -ask him a fearfully particular question." - -Dr. Harry, who, as he always explained to people, was continually nine -hundred and ninety-nine days at sea without meeting a lady, could be -counted on doing anything for one once he had the chance of being -ashore. Even a half-grown lady of Elma's type. - -"Mr. Maclean shall stand on his head inside of three minutes," he -promised her. - -Elma noticed a new twinkle in his eye. It enabled her to take her -courage in both hands and confess to him. - -"I'm always trying to use long words, Cousin Harry. It's like having -measles every three minutes. It was awfully nice of you not to laugh. -I went to look it up, you know." - -Nothing pleased Elma so much as the naturalness with which she made this -confession. She felt more worldly and developed than she could have -considered possible. - -Cousin Harry roared. - -"Try it on the Maclean man," he said. - -But Mr. Leighton had that guest in tow, and they talked art and politics -until tea appeared. Elma did all she could in connection with the -passing of cups to get near him, but Cuthbert and Harry and Mr. Maclean -were too diligent themselves. She saw Mr. Maclean's eyes fixed on Mabel -when she at last gained her opportunity. Mabel had gone in a very -careful manner, hair being her chief concern, to play a Ballade of -Chopin, and this provided an excellent moment for Elma to sidle into a -chair close to Mr. Maclean. It was pure politeness, she observed, which -allowed anyone to stare as much as one liked while a girl played the -piano. Mr. Maclean was quite polite. - -Mabel had the supreme talent which already had made a name for the -Leighton girls. She could take herself out of trivial thoughts and -enter a magic world where one dreamed dreams. Into this new world she -could lift most people with the first touch of her fingers on the keys -of the piano. - -Elma's thoughts soared with the others, and Mabel played till a little -rebellious lock of the newly arranged plaits fell timorously on her -neck. She closed with a low beautiful chord. - -Mr. Maclean sighed gently. - -Elma leant towards him. - -"You know the--er--Dudgeons, don't you? Do you know the eldest?" - -He nodded. - -"Is Mabel like her?" she asked anxiously. - -"Mabel," said Mr. Maclean. - -"Yes, Mabel. Is she--almost--as pretty, do you think?" - -"Mabel is a thousand times more pretty than Miss Dudgeon," said Mr. -Maclean. - -"Oh, Mr. Maclean!" said Elma. - -He could not have understood her sigh of rapture if he had tried to. At -that moment his thoughts were not on Elma. - -She was quite content. - -She sank back on the large easy chair which she had appropriated, and -she felt as though she had brought up a large family and just at that -moment seen them settled in life. - -"Oh, I do feel heavenly," she whispered to herself. "Mabel is prettier -than Adelaide Maud." - -"I beg your pardon?" asked Mr. Maclean. - -"Oh, nothing--nothing," said Elma. "I don't even care about -emb--emb--Do you mind if I ask you?" she inquired. "Is it -embarr*ass*ment or emb*arr*assment?" - -"Emb*arr*assment," said Mr. Maclean. - -"Thank you," said Elma. "I don't care whether I'm embarrassed now or -not, thank you." - - - - - CHAPTER II - - Miss Annie - - -Of course one had to go immediately and tell all this to Miss Annie. - -Miss Annie lived with her sister in a charming verandahed house, hidden -in wisteria and clematis, and everything was delightful in connection -with the two sisters except the illness which made a prisoner of Miss -Annie. Miss Annie lay on a bed covered with beautiful drawn thread work -over pink satinette and wore rings that provoked a hopeless passion in -Elma. - -Whenever she considered that one day she might marry a duke, Elma -pictured herself wearing Miss Annie's rings. - -From the drawn thread work bed Miss Annie ruled her household, and -casually, her sister Grace. It never appeared that Miss Annie ruled -Miss Grace however; nothing being more affectionate than the demeanour -of the two sisters. But long ago, the terrifying nature of Miss Annie's -first illness made such a coward of poor, sympathetic Miss Grace, that -never had she lifted a finger, or formed a frown to reprove that dear -patient, or prevent her having her own way. The nature of Miss Annie's -illness had always been a source of great mystery to the Leighton girls. -It was discussed in a hidden kind of way in little unintelligible nods -from grown up to grown up, and usually resolved itself into the -important phrase of "something internal." Old Dr. Merryweather, years -ago, had landed himself into trouble concerning it. "A poor woman would -get on her feet and fight that tendency of yours," he had said to Miss -Annie. "Money simply encourages it. You will die on that bed if you -don't fight a little, Miss Annie." Miss Annie had replied that in any -case her bed was where she intended to die, and forthwith procured quite -sweetly and pathetically, yet quite determinedly, another doctor. That -was over twenty years ago; but Miss Grace still passed Dr. Merryweather -in the street with her head down in consequence. She did all she could -to provide the proper distraction for Miss Annie, by encouraging -visitors and sacrificing her own friends to the leadership of her -sister. Miss Annie had always shone in a social sense, and she let none -of her talents droop merely because she was bedridden. It was -considered a wonderful thing that she should manage the whole household, -to the laying down or taking up of a carpet in rooms which she never -saw. Gradually, on account of this wonderful energy of Miss Annie's, -Miss Grace acquired a reputation for ineptitude to which her sister -constantly but very gracefully alluded. "Poor Grace," she sighed. -"Grace takes no interest in having things nice." - -It was Miss Grace however who, in her shy old-fashioned manner, showed -interest in the blue-eyed, fair-haired Leighton children, and introduced -them to her sister when they were practically babies. She decoyed them -into the house by biscuits covered with pink icing, which none of them -ever forgot, or allowed themselves to do without. Even Mabel, with her -hair up, accepted a pink biscuit at her first tea there after that great -occasion. They always felt very small delicious children when they went -to Miss Annie's. They had acquired, through Miss Annie, a pleasant easy -manner of taking the nervous fussy attentions of Miss Grace. It was -astonishing how soon they could show that in this establishment of -magnificence, Miss Grace did not count. She was immaterial to the -general grandeur of the verandahed palace belonging to Miss Annie. They -were always on their best behaviour in the house where not only a -footman, but an odd man were kept, and Elma, at the age of seven, had -been known to complain to Mrs. Leighton when a housemaid was at fault, -"We ought to have a man to do this!" Indeed there seemed only one -conclusion to it with Elma: that after knowing exactly what it was to -call on people who had men servants, in her youth, when she grew up she -should be obliged to marry a duke. The duke always met her when she -waited for Miss Grace in the drawing-room. He had a long curling -moustache, and wore his hair in waves on either side of a parting, very -clamped down and oily, like Mr. Lucas, the barber. It was years before -she sacrificed the curling moustache to a clean-shaven duke, and -shuddered at the suggestion of oil in his hair. - -The despair of her life stood in the corner of the white and gold -drawing-room. It was an enormous Alexander harmonium. Once, in an easy -moment, on conversing affably with her duke in a whisper, she had -suggested to him that Miss Grace might let her play on this instrument. -Miss Grace, coming in then, was in time to see her lips moving, and -considered that the sweet child worked at her lessons. Elma was too -sincere to deceive her. "I was talking to myself and wondering if you -would let me play on the harmonium." - -She should never forget the frightened hurt look on Miss Grace's face. - -"Never ask me that again, dear child. It was hers--when she was able -to--to----" Miss Grace could go no further. - -The blue eyes filling with frightened tears in front of her alarmed the -gentlest soul in the world. - -"But, my pet," she said very simply, "there's my own piano." - -Could one believe it? Off came all the photograph frames, and the large -Benares vases on China silk, brought years ago from the other side of -the world by Miss Grace's father, and Elma played at last on a -drawing-room grand piano. Mrs. Leighton's remained under lock and key -for any one below a certain age, and only the schoolroom upright -belonged to Elma. What joy to play on Miss Grace's long, shiny, dark, -ruddy rosewood! She must have the lid full up, and music on the desk. -Miss Grace made a perfect audience. Elma regretted sincerely the fact -that her legs stuck so far through her clothes, so that she could not -trail her skirts to the piano and arrange them as she screwed herself up -on the music stool. However, what did a small thing like that matter -while Miss Grace sat with that surprised happy look on her face, and let -her play "anything she liked"? Anything Elma liked, Miss Grace liked. -In fact, Miss Grace discovered in her gentle, amiable way, a wonderful -talent in the child. It formed a bond between the two which years never -broke. Miss Grace would sit with her knitting pins idle in her lap, and -a far-away expression in the thin grey colour of her eyes. Elma thought -it such a pity Miss Grace wore caps when she looked so nice as that. -She would think these things and forget about them and think of them -again, all the time her fingers caressed the creamy coloured keys, and -made music for Miss Grace to listen to. Then exactly at four o'clock, -Miss Grace seemed to creep back to her cap again, and say that tea would -be going in and they must "seek Miss Annie." - -Miss Annie poured tea from the magnificent teapot, which the footman -carried in on a magnificent silver tray. She reclined gracefully in -bed, reaching out a slender arm covered with filmy lace to do the -honours of the tea table. Crumpets and scones might be passed about by -Miss Grace. In a very large silver cake basket, amongst very few pieces -of seed cake (Miss Annie took no other) Elma would find a pink biscuit. -After that the ceremony of tea was over. It was wonderful to see how -Miss Annie poured and talked and managed things generally. Elma could -play to Miss Grace, but politeness somehow demanded that she should talk -to Miss Annie. - -Elma had always, more than any of the Leighton children, amused Miss -Annie. The little poses, which Miss Grace, with wonderfully sympathetic -understanding, had translated into actual composition in music, the -poses which caused Elma to be the butt of a robustly humorous family, -crushing her to self-consciousness and numbness in their presence, Miss -Annie had the supreme wisdom never to remark upon. Had not Miss Grace -and she enjoyed secretly for years Elma's first delightful blunder? - -"My father and mother are paying a visit to the necropolis. They are -having a lovely time. Oh! is that wrong? I'm sure it is. It's London -I mean." - -They had known then not to laugh, and they never did laugh. The little -figure, with two fierce pigtails tied radiantly with pink bows, the blue -eyes, and very soft curling locks over the temples, how could they laugh -at these? Instead they took infinite pains over Elma's long words. -Miss Annie herself invariably either felt "revived" or "resuscitated" or -polished things of that description. It pleased her that such an -intensely modern child should be sensitive to refinement in language. -For a time Elma became famous as a conversationalist, and was known in -her very trying family circle as Jane Austen or "Sense and Sensibility." -The consequences of her position sent her so many times tearful to bed, -that at last she put a severe curb on herself, and never used words that -had not already been sampled and found worthy by her family. The -afternoons at Miss Annie's, however, where she could remove this curb, -became very valuable. The result was that while things might be -"scrumptious" or "awfully nice" or "beastly" at home, they suddenly -became "excellent" or "delightful" or "reprehensible," in that cultured -atmosphere. Only one in the world knew the two sides to Elma, and that -was her dear and wonderful father. She was never ashamed of either pose -when completely alone with that understanding person. Her mother could -not control the twitching at the lips which denotes that a grown-up -person is taking one in and making game of one. Elma's father laughed -with the loud laugh of enjoyment. It was the laughter Elma understood, -and whether or not a mistake of hers had caused it, she ran on to wilder -indiscretions merely that she might hear it again. Oh! there was nobody -quite so understanding as her father. - -He invariably sent his compliments to Miss Annie, and one day, to -explain why she went there continually, she told him how she played on -Miss Grace's piano. He was greatly pleased, delighted in fact, and -immediately wanted her to do the same for him. Elma's sensitive soul -saw the whole house giggling at herself, and took fright as she always -did at the mere mention of the exhibition of her talents. - -"I can't, when Miss Grace isn't there," she had exclaimed, and neither -she nor anybody else could explain why this should be, except Mr. -Leighton himself, who looked long and with a new earnestness at his -daughter, and never omitted afterwards in sending his compliments to the -two ladies to mention Miss Grace first. - -Mabel was entirely different in the respect of playing before people. -She played as happily and easily to a roomful as she did alone. She -blossomed out with the warmth of applause and admiration as a rose does -at the rising of the sun. - -"Mabel is prettier than Miss Dudgeon," said Elma to Miss Annie on the -day when she described the great "coming out" occasion. - -Miss Annie arrested the handsome teapot before pouring further. - -"What! anybody more pretty than Miss Dudgeon?" she asked. "That is -surely impossible." - -"Mr. Maclean said so," said Elma. - -"And who is Mr. Maclean?" asked Miss Annie. - -"Oh--Mr. Maclean--Mr. Maclean is just Mrs. Maclean's nephew. But he -knows Miss Dudgeon, and he looked a long time at Mabel and said she was -prettier." - -"You must not think so much of looks, Elma," said Miss Annie -reprovingly. "Mabel is highly gifted, that is of much more -consequence." - -"Is it?" asked Elma. "Papa says so, though he won't believe any of _us_ -can be gifted. He thinks there's a great deal for us to learn. It's -very de--demoralizing." - -"Demoralizing?" asked Miss Annie. - -"Yes, isn't it demora-lizing I mean, Miss Annie?" Elma begged in a -puzzled manner. - -Miss Annie daintily separated half a slice of seed cake from the formal -pieces lying in the beautiful filigree cake basket. - -"I do not think it is 'demoralizing' that you mean, dear. -'Demoralizing' would infer that your father, by telling you there was a -great deal to learn, kept you from learning anything at all, upset you -completely as it were." - -Miss Annie was as exact as she could be on these occasions, when she -took the place of the little bright red dictionary. - -This time her information seemed to please Elma immensely. Her eyes -immediately shone brilliantly. - -"Oh, Miss Annie," she said, "it must be 'demoralizing' after all. -That's just how I feel. Papa tells me, and I see the great big things -to be done, and it doesn't seem to be any use to try the little things. -Like Mozart's Rondos! They _are_ so silly, you know. And when you see -people like Mr. Sturgis painting big e--e--elaborate pictures, I simply -can't draw at school at all." - -Miss Grace leant forward on her chair, pulling little short breaths as -though not to lose, by breathing properly, one word of this. She -considered it marvellous that this young thing should invariably be -expressing the thoughts which had troubled her all her life, and never -even been properly recognized by herself, far less given voice to. It -enabled her on many occasions to see clearly at last, and to be able, by -the light of her own lost opportunities, to give counsel to Elma. - -Miss Annie's eyes only looked calmly amused. It was an amusement to -which Elma never took exception, but to-day she wanted something more, -to prevent the foolishness which she was afraid of experiencing whenever -she made a speech of this nature. Miss Annie only toyed with a silver -spoon, however, looking sweet and very kindly at Elma, and it was Miss -Grace who finally spoke. - -She had recovered the shy equanimity with which she always filled in -pauses for her sister. - -"You must not allow the fine work of others to paralyze your young -activities," Miss Grace said gravely. "Mr. Sturgis was young himself -once, and no doubt at school studied freehand drawing very diligently to -be so great as he is now." - -"Oh, no," said Elma, "that's one of the funny parts. Mr. Sturgis doesn't -approve of freehand drawing at all. He says it's anything but freehand, -he says it's--it's--oh! I mustn't say it." - -"Say it," said Miss Annie cheerfully. - -"He says it's rotten," said Elma. - -There was something of a pause after this. - -"And it's so funny with Mabel," said Elma. "Mabel never practises a -scale unless mamma goes right into the room and hears her do it. But -Mabel can read off and play Chopin. And papa takes me to hear Liszt -Concertos, and I can't play one of them." - -"You can't stretch the chords yet, dearie," said Miss Grace. - -"No, but it's very demor--what was it I said?" she asked Miss Annie -anxiously. - -"Demoralizing," said Miss Annie. - -"And there's paralyzing too," said Elma gratefully. "That's exactly how -I feel." - -She sat nursing one of her knees in a hopeless manner, until it struck -her that neither Miss Annie nor Miss Grace liked to see her in this -attitude. Nothing was ever said on these occasions, but invariably one -knew that in order not to get on the nerves of Miss Annie, one must sit -straight and not fidget. Elma sat up therefore and resumed -conversation. - -"Mabel says it is nothing to play a Liszt Concerto," said Elma -hopelessly. - -"Is Mabel playing Liszt?" asked Miss Grace in astonishment. - -"Mabel plays anything," sighed Elma. - -"That is much better than being prettier than Miss Dudgeon," said Miss -Annie. - -She took up a little book which lay near her. It was bound in white -vellum and had little gold lines tooled with red running into fine gold -clasps. Two angel heads on ivory were inserted in a sunk gold rim on -the cover. Miss Grace saw a likeness in the blue eyes there to the -round orbs fastened on it whenever Elma had to listen to the wisdom of -the white book. The title, _The Soul's Delineator_, fascinated her by -its vagueness. She had never cared to let Miss Annie know that in -growing from the days when she could not even spell, the word -"delineator" had remained unsatisfactory as a term to be applied to the -soul. There was The Delineator of fashions at home--a simple affair to -understand, but that it should be applied to the "ivory thoughts" of -Miss Annie seemed confusing. Miss Annie moved her white fingers, -sparkling with the future duchess's rings, in and out among the -gilt-edged pages. Then she read. - -"The resources of the soul are quickened and enlivened, not so much by -the education of the senses, as by the encouragement of the -sensibilities, i.e. these elements which go to the making of the -character gentle, chivalrous, kind; in short, the elements which provoke -manners and good breeding." - -Miss Annie paused. Her voice had sustained a rather high and different -tone, as it always did when she read from the white book. - -"Mabel has very nice manners, hasn't she?" asked Elma anxiously. - -"Do you know that you have said nothing at all about the Story Book -Girls to-day, and everything about Mabel," said Miss Annie. "I quite -miss my Story Books." - -Elma's eyes glowed. - -Miss Annie had marked the line where the dream life was becoming the -real life. Elma, in two days, had transferred her _mise en scene_ of -the drama of life from four far-away people to her own newly grown-up -sister. It was a devotion which lasted long after the days of dreaming -and imagining had passed for the imaginative Elma, this devotion and -admiration for her eldest sister. - -In case she should not entertain Miss Annie properly, she ran back a -little, and told her how it was that Mabel had got a blue gown after -all. It was delightful to feel the appreciation of Miss Annie, and to -watch the wrinkles of laughter at her eyes. - -Exactly at five o'clock however Miss Grace began to look anxiously at -Miss Annie, and Miss Annie's manner became correspondingly languid. - -"You tire your dear self, you ought not to pour out tea," said Miss -Grace in the concerned tone with which she always said this sentence at -five o'clock in the afternoon. - -Saunders came noiselessly in to remove, and Elma bade a mute good-bye. - -"You tire yourself, dear," said Miss Grace to Miss Annie once more, as -she and Elma retired to the door. - -"I must fulfil my obligations, dear," said Miss Annie. - -She nodded languidly to Elma, and Elma thought once again how splendid -it was of Miss Annie to be brave like this, and wondered a trifle in her -enthusiastic soul why for once Miss Grace did not pour out tea for her -sister. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - The Flower Show Ticket - - -"I call it mean of Mabel." - -Jean sat in a crinkled heap on her bedroom floor, and pulled -bad-temperedly with a wire comb at straight unruly hair. It had always -annoyed Mabel that Jean should use a wire comb, when it set her "teeth -on edge even to look at it." - -Mabel however was out of the way, well out of it, they decided, and Elma -and Betty had invaded the room belonging to the elder two in order to -condole with Jean. - -"Mabel could easily have got another ticket--and said she didn't want -it! Didn't want it, when we're dying to go! And then off she goes, -looking very prim and grown-up, with Cousin Harry." - -Jean threw her head back, and began to gather long heavy ends in order -for braiding. - -"Just wait till I grow up! I shall soon take it out of Mabel," she -said. - -"Oh, girls, girls!" - -Mrs. Leighton's voice at the door was very accusing. - -"Well, mummy, it was mean. We've always gone together before, and now -Mabel won't go with one of us." - -"Not if you behave in this manner," said Mrs. Leighton. "I do not like -any of my girls to be spiteful, you know." - -"Spiteful!" exclaimed Jean. She ran rapid fingers in and out the -lengthening braid of hair, till long ends were brought in front. She -put these energetically in her mouth, while she hunted for the ribbon -lying by her. - -"Oh, Jean," said Mrs. Leighton, "I've asked you so often not to do -that." - -"Sorry, mummy," said Jean, disengaging the ends abruptly. - -Mrs. Leighton sat down rather heavily on a chair. - -"You didn't say you were sorry for being spiteful," she remarked -gravely. - -"Well, mummy, are we spiteful, that's the question?" - -Elma sat on a bed, looking specially tragic. - -"It's _awful_ to be left out of things now by Mabel," she said. - -Betty looked as though she meant to cry. - -"Well, I never," said Mrs. Leighton. "You must take your turn. You -don't come wherever your father and I go, or Cuthbert. You know you -don't." - -"I think that Cuthbert might occasionally take us, however," said Jean. - -"We all went to the flower show last year," wailed Elma. - -"Yes, with the parasols papa brought us from London," said Betty. "And -Mabel said it was like carrying four bassinettes in a row, and snapped -hers down and wouldn't put it up till she got separated from us." - -"She was growing up even then," said Jean in a melancholy manner. - -"Come, come, girls," interrupted Mrs. Leighton. "You may be just the -same when you grow up. I won't allow you to be down on poor Mabel. -Especially when she isn't here to speak for herself." - -"When we grow up there will always be one less to tyrannize over," said -Jean. "Honestly, mother, I never would have thought that Mabel could be -so priggish. Do you know why she wouldn't have us? I'm too big and -gawky, and Elma is always saying silly things, and Betty is just a baby. -There you are." - -"Well, it isn't very nice of Mabel, but you mustn't believe she means -that," said Mrs. Leighton. "And after all, Mabel must have her little -day. She was very good, let me tell you, very sweet and nice when you -were babies and she just a little thing. She nursed you, Elma and -Betty, often and often, and put you to sleep when your own nurse -couldn't, and she has looked after you all more or less ever since. You -might let her grow up without being worried." - -"It's hateful to be called a nuisance," said Jean, somewhat mollified. - -"Why do you waste time over it, I wonder," said Mrs. Leighton. "Instead -of moping Jean might be golfing, and Elma and Betty having tea at Miss -Annie's; with nobody at all being nice to your poor old mother." - -It dawned on them how selfish they might all be. - -"Oh, mummy," cried three reproachful voices. - -"Well, Elma likes Miss Grace much better than she does me, and Betty -likes her rabbits, and Jean despises me because I don't play golf. I -lead a very lonely life," said Mrs. Leighton. - -"Oh, mummy!" - -"My idea, when I came into your room," said Mrs. Leighton, "was to -propose that we might walk into town and get Jean's new hat, and take -tea at Crowther's, and drive home if my poor old leg won't hold out for -walking both ways. But we've wasted so much time in talking about -Mabel----" - -"Oh, mummy--Your bonnet, your veil, and your gloves, and do be quick, -mummy," cried Elma. "We're very sorry about Mabel." - -They flew in self-reproachful manner to getting her off to her room and -making their own things fly. - -"After all, we are a beastly set of prigs," called out Jean to Elma. -"And I think I ought to have a biscuit-coloured straw, don't you?" - -It was one of a series of encounters with which the new tactics of Mabel -invaded the family. Mrs. Leighton's gentle rule was sorely tried for -quite a long time in this way. Although she reasoned with the younger -girls on the side of Mabel, she took Mabel severely to task for her -behaviour over the flower show. - -"It wasn't nice of you," she told her, "to cut off any little invitation -for your sisters. You must not begin by being selfish, you know. There -are few enough things happening here not to spread the opportunities. -Jean wouldn't have troubled you. She may be at the gawky stage, but she -makes plenty of friends." - -Mrs. Leighton could be very impartial in her judgments. - -But Mabel was hurt. She preserved a superior air, which became -extremely annoying to the girls. - -The greatest crime that she committed was when Jean, amiably engaging -her in conversation in the old way, asked, "And how was Adelaide Maud -dressed?" - -Mabel turned in a very studied manner and stared past Jean and every -one. - -"I don't think I observed Adelaide Maud," she said. - -This was more than human beings could stand. - -"I think it's most ir--ir----" - -"Oh, find the word first and talk afterwards," said Mabel grandly. "You -kids get on one's nerves." - -"Kids--nerves," cried Jean faintly. "I think Mabel is taking brain -fever." - -Elma left the room abruptly, much on the verge of tears, and she tried -to find solace in her dictionary. The word was "irrelevant"--yet did not -seem to fit the occasion at all. What would Miss Annie or Miss Grace -do, if a sister had turned old and strange in a few days like that? -What would mother have done? Mother's sisters always complimented each -other when they met. They never quarrelled. Of course they never could -have quarrelled. "Forgive and forget," Aunt Katharine once had said had -always been their motto. Forgiving seemed very easy--but forgetting with -Adelaide Maud in the question--what an impossibility! Miss Annie had an -axiom that when you felt worried about one matter the correct thing to -do was to think about another. Elma thought and thought, but everything -worked round to the traitorous remark of Mabel's about Adelaide Maud. -It seemed as though her head could hold nothing else but that one idea -about Adelaide Maud, until suddenly it dawned on her that it was really -rather fine and grand of Mabel that she should talk in this negligent -manner of any one so magnificent. This reflection gave her the greatest -possible comfort. To be condescending, even in a mere frame of mind, to -the Story Book Girls seemed like the swineherd becoming a prince. Elma -began to think how jolly it would be to hear Mabel saying, "You know, my -dear Helen, I don't think you ought to wear heliotrope, it hardly suits -you." There was something very delicious in having Mabel starchy and -proud after all. Elma heard her coming upstairs to her bedroom to dress -for dinner just then. The fall of the footsteps seemed to suggest that -some of the starchiness had departed from Mabel. Much of the quality of -sympathy which had produced such a person as Miss Grace, was to be found -in Elma. Jean and Betty had hardened their two little hearts to the -consistency of flint over the behaviour of Mabel, but the mere fact that -Elma thought her footsteps seemed to flag and become tired roused her to -chivalrous eagerness towards making it up. She went into Mabel's room -and sat on the window seat. It was a long, low, pleasant couch let into -a wide window looking on the lawn and gardens at the front of the house. -The sun poured in on Elma, who forgot the habits of upright behaviour -which she exhibited at Miss Annie's, and sprawled there with her fingers -on the cord of the blind. - -Mabel drew her hatpins out of fair braids in an admiring yet -disconsolate manner. She took a hand glass and had first a side view, -then a back view of the new effect, patted little stray locks into -place, and ruffled out others. - -"What's up, Mabs? You don't look en--thusiastic," asked Elma. - -"It's papa. After my lovely day too. He wants me to play that Mozart -thing with Betty to-night. Mozart and Betty! Isn't it stale? I hate -Mozart, and I hate drumming away at silly things with Betty." A very -discontented sigh accompanied these remarks. - -"I really don't see why I should always be tacked on to Betty or to Jean -or you. I haven't a minute to myself." - -"Oh, Mabs, you've had a lovely day!" - -The words broke out in an accusing manner. Elma had certainly intended -to comfort Mabel, yet immediately began by expostulating with her. - -Mabel turned round, with her seventeenth birthday present, a fine -silver-backed brush, in her hand. - -"_Have_ I had a lovely day, have I?" she asked. "I've had simply nothing -of the kind. Jean went on so about not going that Cousin Harry seemed -to think I had injured her. He made me feel like a criminal all -afternoon. These navy men like lots of girls round them. One or two -more don't make the difference to them that it makes to us. At least -it's a different kind of difference. A nice one. I think it was -abominable of him. My first chance--and to spoil it, all because of -Jean! It wasn't fair of her." - -Elma began to feel her reason rocking with the sudden justice of this -new argument. - -"A minute ago, I thought it wasn't fair of you," she said reflectively. -"I can see it will be awfully hard to get us all peacefully grown up. -Betty will have the best of it. I shall simply give in to her right -along the line. I can see that. I really couldn't stand the worry of -it." - -"I suppose you wouldn't have gone to the flower show without Jean?" -asked Mabel in rather a scornful way. - -"Good gracious, no," said Elma simply. "I should have presented her -with the one and only ticket, just for the sake of peace." - -"That's a rotten, weak way to behave," said Mabel, with a touch of -Cuthbert's best manner. - -"I know. I don't mean that you should have given her the ticket. You -weren't made to be bullied. I was. I feel it in my bones every time -any one is horrid to me." - -"I'm getting tired of giving up to others," said Mabel, still on her -determined tack. "You can't think what it has been during these years. -I mustn't do this and that because of the children. It's always been -like that. And now when I'm longing to go to dances and balls, I've got -to go right off after dinner and play Mozart with Betty. It's all very -well for papa, he hasn't had the work I've had. If I play now, I want -to play something better than a tum-tum accompaniment." - -"Mozart isn't tum-tum," said Elma, "and papa has been listening to us -all these years. It must have been very trying." - -"Well, all I can say is that, at his time of life, he ought to be saved -from hearing Betty scrape on her fiddle every night as she does -nowadays. Instead, you would think he hadn't had one musical daughter, -he's so keen on the latest." - -"Miss Annie says it never does to be selfish," said Elma gravely. "I -think that's being selfish, the way you talk." - -Mabel stopped at the unclasping of her waist-belt. - -"Miss Annie! Well, I like that! Don't you know there isn't so selfish -a person in the world as Miss Annie. I've heard people say it." - -She nodded with two pins in her mouth, then released them as she went -on. - -"Miss Annie made up her mind to lie on a nice bed and have Miss Grace -wait on her. And she's done it. There's nothing succeeds like success." -Mabel nodded her head with the wisdom of centuries. - -"Oh, Mabs, how can you?" Elma was dreadfully shocked. A vision of poor -martyred Miss Annie, with "something internal," being supposed to like -what was invariably referred to in that household as "the bed of pain," -to have conferred on herself this dreadful thing from choice and -wilfulness, this vision was an appalling one. - -"How can you say such things of Miss Annie? Who would ever go to bed -for all these years for the pleasure of the thing?" - -"I would," said Mabel. "Yes, at the present moment, I would. I should -like to have something very pathetic happen to me, so that I should be -obliged to lie in bed like Miss Annie, and have somebody nice and -sympathetic come in and stroke my hand! Cousin Harry, for instance. He -can look so kind and be so comforting when he likes. But, oh! Elma, he -was a beast to-day." - -The truth was out at last. Mabel sat suddenly on the couch beside Elma, -and burst into tears. - -"I think I hate being grown up," she said, "if people treat you in that -stiff severe way. Nobody ever did it before--ever." - -Elma stroked and stroked her hand. "The Leighton lump," as they -interpreted the slightly hysterical quality which made each girl cry -when the other began, rose in riotous disobedience in her throat, and -strangled any further effort at consolation. - -"Why don't you say something," wailed Mabel. - -"I'm trying not to cry too," at last said Elma. - -Then they both laughed. - -"I should go right to Cousin Harry and tell him all about it," Elma -managed to counsel at last. "I thought you were a beast--but it's -awfully hard on you. It's awfully hard on all of us--having sisters." - -"Yes, isn't it," groaned Mabel. - -"Harry is very understanding. Almost as understanding as papa is." - -"Papa! _Do_ you think papa understands?" - -"Papa understands everything," said Elma. Then a very loyal -recollection of the afternoon they had spent in the cheery presence of -Mrs. Leighton beset her. "Also mamma, I think she's a duck," said Elma. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - Cuthbert - - -There was a tremendous scurry after this to allow of the four getting -ready in time for dinner. Mabel and Elma regained high spirits after -their confidences, and everybody seemed in a better key. - -Mrs. Leighton came in to inquire of Mabel why Cuthbert had not returned. -Cuthbert, by some years the eldest of the family, had attained great -brilliance as a medical student, and now worked at pathology in order to -qualify as a specialist. His studies kept him intermittently at home, -but to-day he had been down early from town and had gone out bicycling -with George Maclean. - -"Cuthbert!" exclaimed Mabel. "Why, I can't think--why, where's -Cuthbert?" - -"Why, yes, where's Cuthbert?" said Jean. - -Their minute differences had engaged their minds so fully, that no one -had really begun to wonder about Cuthbert until that moment. - -"He is always in such good time," said Mrs. Leighton in a puzzled way. -"Didn't he say to any one that he would be late?" - -No one knew anything about him. They speculated, and collected at the -dinner-table still speculating. Even Cousin Harry knew nothing of him, -but that, of course, was because of the flower show. While the meal was -in progress, Mr. Maclean appeared quietly in the room. He had prepared -a little speech for Mrs. Leighton, but it died on his lips as he saw her -face. It was a curious thing, as they afterwards reflected, that Mr. -Maclean went on speaking to Mrs. Leighton as though she knew of -everything that had happened to Cuthbert. - -"He is all right, Mrs. Leighton, but he wouldn't let me bring him in -until I told you that he was all right." - -"Bring him in----" - -It seemed to the Leightons that Mr. Maclean had been standing all his -life in their dining-room saying that Cuthbert was all right, but -wouldn't be "brought in." - -Mr. Leighton put down his table napkin in a methodical manner. - -"You'd better come with me and see him, Lucy," he said to his wife. - -Nothing could have more alarmed the girls. On no occasion had Mr. -Leighton ever referred to his wife as Lucy. - -"Oh, Cuthbert must be dead," cried Betty. - -"Nonsense," said Mr. Leighton, with a white face. "Where is Harry?" - -Harry had slipped out after a direct glance from Mr. Maclean, and was at -that moment assisting two doctors to lift Cuthbert from a carriage. - -"Look here, you kids," sang out Cuthbert, "I've only broken a rib or -two. You needn't look scared. I shall allow you to nurse me. You won't -be dull, I can tell you." - -Mrs. Leighton gave a sharp little gasp. Her face looked drawn and only -half its size. - -"Oh, Cuthbert," she said. - -"I won't move," said Cuthbert, "till you stop being anxious about me. -Maclean, you are a bit of an idiot--look how you've frightened her!" - -Elma found Betty in partial hysterics in the dining-room with Jean -hanging over her in a corresponding condition. - -"I say, you two," she said in a disgusted manner. "You'll frighten -mother more than ever. Get up, and don't be idiots." - -"You're as pale as death yourself," cried Jean hotly. - -"Oh--am I," said Elma in almost a pleased voice. She longed to go and -see the effect for herself, but the condition of Betty prevented her. - -"Well, it's our first shock," she said in an important manner. "I never -felt _awful_ like this before." - -"I'm sure Cuthbert will die," cried Betty. - -"Oh, don't." Elma turned on her fiercely. "Why do you say such -dreadful things." - -"If you think he will die, Betty, he will die," sobbed Jean. - -"Oh, Jean, Jean, do brace up," said Elma. "I don't want to cry, and -every minute I'm getting nearer it. Harry says it's just a knock on the -ribs, and the navy men don't even go to bed for that." - -"Liar," sobbed Betty, "Cuthbert isn't a softy." - -"Well, of course, if you want him to be bad, I can't help it," said -Elma. "I'm off to see where Mabel is." - -Mabel--well, this was just where the magnificence of Mabel asserted -itself. She had done a thing which not one of the people who were -arranging about getting Cuthbert upstairs and into bed had thought of. -At the first sight of his white face and some blankets with which he had -been padded into a carriage, after the accident which had thrown him -from his bicycle and broken three ribs, Mabel turned and went upstairs. -She put everything out of the way for his being carried across the room, -and finally tugged his bed into a convenient place for his being laid -there. She dragged back quilts and procured more pillows, so that when -Cuthbert finally reclined there he was eminently comfortable. - -"You'll have to haul out my bed, it's in a corner," he had sung out as -they carried him in, and there was the bed already prepared for him, and -Mabel with an extra pillow in her arms. - -"Good old Mabs," said Cuthbert. "I promote you to staff nurse on the -spot." - -Mabel was more scared than any one, not knowing yet about the ribs or -Cousin Harry's tale of the navy men who went about with broken ones, and -rather enjoyed the experience. She was so scared that it seemed easy to -stand quiet and be perfectly dignified. - -"Come, Mabs dear, and help me to look for bandages. The doctor wants one -good big one," said the recovered voice of Mrs. Leighton. - -Mr. Leighton went about stirring up everybody to doing things. He was -very angry with Betty and Jean. "Any one can sit crying in a corner," -he declared, "and we may be so glad it's no worse." - -"It's our first shock," said Betty, who had rather admired the sentiment -of that speech of Elma's. - -Mr. Leighton could not help smiling a trifle. - -"Well," he exclaimed kindly, "we don't want to get accustomed to them. -I should really much rather you would behave properly this time. You -might take a lesson from Mabel." - -Nobody knew till then what a brick Mabel had been. To have their father -commend them like that, the girls would stand on their heads. Lucky -Mabel! There was some merit after all in being the eldest. One knew -evidently what to do in an emergency. The truth was that Mabel's -temperament was so nicely balanced that she could act, as well as think, -with promptitude. She had always admired dignity and what Mr. Leighton -called "efficiency," whereas Jean and Betty believed most in the deep -feelings of people who squealed the loudest. - -"Nobody knows the agony this is to me," Jean exclaimed in a tragic -voice. "Feel my heart, it's beating so." - -"Go and feel Mabel's," said Elma. "I expect it's thumping as hard as -yours. And she got Cuthbert's bed ready. She really is the leader of -this family. There's something more in it than putting up one's hair." - -The doctors came down much more merrily than they went up, and joined in -the dining-room in coffee and dessert while Harry stayed with the -patient. - -Mr. Leighton seemed very deeply moved. The thing had hurt him more than -he ventured to say. A remembrance of the white look on his son's face, -the appearance of the huddled figure in the cab, and the anxiety of not -knowing for a few moments how bad the injury might be, had given him a -great shock. His children were so deeply a part of his life, their -welfare of so much more consequence than his own, that it seemed -dreadful to him that his splendid manly young son had been suddenly -hurt--perhaps beyond remedy. Mrs. Leighton used to remark that she had -always been very thankful that none of her children had ever been -dangerously ill, her husband suffered so acutely from even a trifling -illness undergone by one of them. Now she gazed at him rather -anxiously. - -Mr. Maclean told them at last how it had happened. Cuthbert had done -something rather heroic. Mr. Maclean recounted it, it seemed to Elma, -in the tone of a man who thought very little of the reckless way in -which Cuthbert had risked his life, until she discovered afterwards that -he as well as Cuthbert had made a dash to the rescue. - -It was a case of a runaway bicycle, with no brakes working, and a girl -on it, terror-stricken, trying to evade death on the Long Hill. -Cuthbert had rushed down to her. Cuthbert had gripped the saddle, and -was putting some strength into his brakes, and actually reaching nearly -a full stop, when the girl swayed and fainted. They were both thrown, -but the girl was quite unhurt. Something had hit Cuthbert on the side -and broken three ribs. - -Mabel stared straight at Mr. Maclean. - -"Where were you?" she asked. - -Mr. Maclean looked gravely at her. "I was somewhere about," he said -with unnecessary vagueness. - -"Then you tried to save the girl too," said Elma with immediate -conviction. She greatly admired Mr. Maclean, and resented the manner of -Mabel's question. "How beautiful of you both," she exclaimed -enthusiastically. - -Mr. Maclean seemed a little annoyed. - -"I nearly ran into them," he growled. "Cuthbert was the man who did the -clean neat thing." - -Mabel stirred her coffee with a dainty air, and then she looked -provokingly at Mr. Maclean. In some way she made Elma believe that she -did not credit that he could be valorous like Cuthbert. - -"I think it was most grand-iloquent of you," Elma said to Mr. Maclean by -way of recompense. - -The word saved the situation. Where doctors' assurances had not cleared -anxiety from the brow of Mr. Leighton, nor restored the placidity which -with Mrs. Leighton was habitual, the genuine laugh which followed Elma's -effort accomplished everything. - -"I shall go right up and tell Cuthbert," said Jean. - -"No, you won't! Cuthbert mustn't laugh," said Mrs. Leighton hurriedly. - -"Oh, mummy," said poor Elma. - -Nobody laughed later, however, when all four girls were tucked in bed -and not one of them could sleep. Betty in particular was in a nervous -feverish condition which alarmed Elma. She would have gone to her -mother's room to ask advice, except for Mabel's great indication of -courage that afternoon, and the certainty that Mabel and Jean were both -sensibly fast asleep in the next room. She took Betty into her own bed -and petted her like a baby. On windy nights Betty never could sleep, -and had always gone to Elma like a chicken to its mother to hide her -head and shut out the shrieking and whistling which so unnerved her. But -to-night, nothing could shut out the fear which had suddenly assailed -her that everybody died sooner or later, and Cuthbert might have died -that day. She lay and wept on Elma's shoulder. - -At last the door moved gently and Mrs. Leighton came in. The moon shone -on her white hair, and made her face seem particularly gentle and -lovely. - -"I've been scolding Mabel and Jean for talking in bed," she said, "and -now I hear you two at it." - -"Oh, mummy," replied Elma, "I'm so glad you've come. You don't know how -empty and dreadful we feel. We never thought before of Cuthbert's -dying. And Betty says you and papa might die--and none of us could -p--possibly bear to live." - -She began to cry gently at last. - -"I can't have four girls in one house all crying," said Mrs. Leighton; -"I really can't stand it, you know." - -"What--are Mabel and Jean crying?" asked Elma tearfully, yet hopefully. -"Well, that's one comfort anyway." - -Mrs. Leighton sat down by their bed. Long years afterwards Elma -remembered the tones of her mother's voice, and the quiet wonderful -peace that entered her own mind at the confident words which Mrs. -Leighton spoke to them then. - -"I thought you might be feeling like that," she said; "I did once also, -long ago, when my father turned very ill, until I learned what I'm going -to tell you now. We aren't here just to enjoy ourselves, or that would -be an easy business, would it not? We are here to get what Cuthbert -calls a few kicks now and again, to suffer a little, above all to -remember that our father or our mother isn't the only loving parent we -possess. What is the use of being taught to be devoted to goodness and -truth, if one doesn't believe that goodness and truth are higher than -anything, higher than human trouble? If you lost Cuthbert or me or -papa, there is always that strong presence ready to hold you." - -"Oh, mummy," sobbed Betty, "there seems nothing like holding your hand." - -Mrs. Leighton stroked Betty's very softly. - -"Would you like a little piece of news?" she asked. - -"We would," said Elma. - -"The only person who is asleep in this household--last asleep, -is--Cuthbert." - -"O--oh!" - -Elma could not help laughing. - -"And another thing," said Mrs. Leighton. "Didn't you notice? Not one -of my girls asked a single question about the girl whom Cuthbert saved." - -"How funny!" - -Betty's sobs became much dimmer. - -"Do you know who she was?" asked Mrs. Leighton. - -"No," chimed both. - -"Well, I don't know her name," said Mrs. Leighton. She rose and moved -towards the door. "But I know one thing." She opened the door softly. - -Elma and Betty sat up dry-eyed in bed. - -"Remember what I said to you to-night," Mrs. Leighton said, "and don't -be very ungrateful for all the happiness you've known, and little -cowards when the frightening time comes. Promise me." - -They promised. - -She prepared to draw the door quietly behind her. - -"She is staying with the Story Books," whispered Mrs. Leighton. Then -she closed the door. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - "The Story Books" Call - - -Mabel was sitting with Cuthbert when the Story Books called. - -They really did call. - -And nothing could have been more unpropitious. - -First, they called very early in the afternoon, just when Betty, with -her arms full of matting for her rabbits, rushed out at the front door. -She nearly ran into them. The matting slipped from her arms, and she -stood spell-bound, gazing at the Story Books. Mrs. Dudgeon was there, -looking half a size larger than any ordinary person. An osprey waved -luxuriantly in a mauve toque, and her black dress bristled with -grandeur. She produced a lorgnette and looked through it severely at -Betty. Betty became half the size of an ordinary mortal. - -Adelaide Maud was with Mrs. Dudgeon. - -Adelaide Maud was in blue. - -Adelaide Maud seemed stiff and bored. - -"Is your mamma at home?" Mrs. Dudgeon asked. - -Betty kicked the matting out of the way in a surreptitious manner. - -"Oh, please come in," she said shyly. - -It was tragic that of all moments in one's life the Dudgeons should have -come when Betty happened to be flying out, and they had not even had -time to ring for Bertha, who, as parlour-maid, had really irreproachable -showing in manners. - -Betty tripped over a mat on her way to the drawing-room. Betty showed -them in without a word of warning. Jean was singing at the -piano--atrociously. Jean might know that she oughtn't to sing till her -voice was developed. Elma was dusting photographs. - -Nothing could have been more tragic. - -The girls melted from the room, and left Mrs. Dudgeon and Adelaide Maud -in the centre of it, stranded, staring. - -"What an odd family," said Mrs. Dudgeon stiffly. - -Adelaide Maud never answered. - -The Leightons rushed frantically to other parts of the house. - -The second tragedy occurred. - -Mrs. Leighton utterly refused to change her quiet afternoon dress for -another in which to receive Mrs. Dudgeon. She went to the drawing-room -as she was. - -They ran to Cuthbert's room to tell him about it. Cuthbert seemed rather -excited when he asked which "Story Book." Elma said, "Oh, you know, -_the_ one," and he concluded she meant Hermione, who did not interest -him at all. - -"Why couldn't you stay and talk to them?" he asked. "They wouldn't eat -you. Who cares what you have on? The mater is quite right. She is -just as nice in a morning costume as old Dudgeon in her war paint. You -think too much of clothes, you kids." - -"Yet you like to see us nicely dressed," wailed Jean. - -"Of course I do. Mabel in that blue thing is a dream." - -Mabel looked at him gratefully. - -"Oh, if only Mabel had been sitting there embroidering, in her blue -gown, and Bertha had shown them ceremoniously in! How lovely it would -have been!" said Elma. - -"I couldn't have worn my blue," said Mabel with a conscience-stricken -look. "You know why." - -"Oh, Mabel--the rucking! How unfortunate!" - -"It never dawned on us that we should ever know them." - -Cuthbert looked from one to another. - -"What on earth have you been up to now?" he asked suspiciously. - -"Mabel got her dress made the same as Adelaide Maud's," said Betty -accusingly. She rather liked airing Mabel's mistakes just then, after -having been so sat upon for her own. - -"Well, it's a good thing that Adelaide Maud, as you call her, won't ever -come near you," Cuthbert remarked in a savage voice. - -"But it's Adelaide Maud who's in the drawing-room," said Elma. - -Cuthbert drew in his breath sharply. - -"Oh, Cuthbert, you aren't well." - -"It's the bandage," he said. "Montgomery is a bit of an idiot about -bandaging. I told him so. Doesn't give a fellow room to breathe." - -He became testy in his manner. - -"You oughtn't to have all run away like that, like a lot of children. -Old Dudgeon will be sniffing round to see how much money there is in our -furniture, and cursing herself for having to call." - -"Adelaide Maud was awfully stiff," sighed Elma. - -"Our furniture can bear inspection," said Mabel with dignity. "The -Dudgeons may have money, but papa has taste." - -"Yes, thank goodness," said Cuthbert. "They can't insult us on that -point. This beastly side of mine! Why can't we go downstairs, Mabel, -and tell them what we think of 'em?" - -"I'm longing to, but terrified," said Mabel. "It's because we've -admired them so and talked about them so much." - -"Adelaide Maud wouldn't know you from the furniture," said Jean. "You -may spare yourself the agony of wanting to see her. I think they might -be nice when we've been neighbours in a kind of way for so long." - -"Well--they're having a good old chat with the mater at least," said -Cuthbert. - -"I haven't confidence in mummy," said Jean. "I can hear her, can't you? -Instead of talking about the flower show or the boat races, or something -dashing of that sort, she will be saying----" - -"Oh, I know," said Mabel. "When Elma was a baby--or was it when Betty -was a baby--yes, it was, and saying how cute Cuthbert was when he was -five years old----" - -"If she does," shouted Cuthbert. "Oh, mother mine, if you do that!" He -shook his fist at the open door. - -A sound of voices approaching a shut one downstairs came to their ears. -Each girl stole nimbly and silently out and took up a position where she -could see safely through the banisters. First came the mauve toque with -its white osprey quite graciously animated, then a blue and wide one in -turquoise, which from that foreshortened view completely hid the -shimmering gold of the hair of Adelaide Maud. Mrs. Leighton was weirdly -self-possessed, it seemed to the excited onlookers. She had rung for -Bertha, who held the door open now in quite the right attitude. Good -old Bertha. Mrs. Dudgeon was condescendingly remarking, "I'm so sorry -your little girls ran away!" - -"Little girls!" breathed four stricken figures at the banisters. - -Adelaide Maud said, "Yes, and I did so want to meet them. I hear they -are very musical." - -"Musical!" groaned Mabel. - -"She just said that to be polite--isn't it awful?" whispered Jean. - -"Hush." - -"Once more, our best thanks to your son." - -Mrs. Leighton answered as though she hadn't minded a bit that Cuthbert -had been nearly killed the day before. - -"So good of you to call," said she. - -"Oh," cried Elma, with her head on the banister rail, after the door -shut, "I hate society; don't you, mummy?" - -"I think you're very badly behaved, all of you, listening there like a -lot of babies," said Mrs. Leighton. - -"Come and tell your little girls all about it," cried Jean -sarcastically. - -Mrs. Leighton smiled as she toiled upstairs. - -"It ought to be a lesson to you. Haven't I often told you that -listeners hear no good of themselves," she exclaimed. - -"Oh, mummy, we are musical," reminded Mabel, softly. "Think of that -terrific compliment!" - -Their mother seemed to have more on her mind than she would tell them. -She puffed gently into Cuthbert's room. - -"These stairs are getting too much for me," she said. - -"Well, mater?" asked Cuthbert in an interrogating way. - -"Well, Cuthbert, they are very grateful to you," she said. - -He lay back on his pillows. - -"Don't I know that patronizing gratitude," he said. It seemed as though -they had all suddenly determined to be down on the Dudgeons. His face -appeared hard and very determined. He had the fine forehead which so -distinguished his father, with the same clear-cut features, and a chin -of which the outline was strong and yet frankly boyish. He had a -patient insistent way of looking out of his eyes. It had often the -effect of wresting remarks from people who imagined they had nothing to -say. - -This time, Mrs. Leighton, noting that familiar appeal in his eyes, was -drawn to discussing the Dudgeons. - -"Mrs. Dudgeon was very nice; she said several very nice things about you -and us. She says that Mr. Dudgeon had always a great respect for your -father. He knew what he had done in connection with the Antiquarian -Society and so on. Miss Dudgeon was very quiet." - -"Stiff little thing," said Jean, with her head in the air. - -"She was very nice," said Mrs. Leighton. There was a softness in her -voice which arrested the flippancy of the girls. "I don't know when I -have met a girl I liked so much." - -"Good old Adelaide Maud," cried Jean. - -A flush ran up Cuthbert's pale determined face. It took some of the -hardness out of it. - -"Did she condescend to ask for me?" he asked abruptly. "Or pretend that -she knew me at all?" - -"She never said a word about you," said his mother; "but----" - -"But--what a lot there may be in a but," said Jean. - -"She looked most sympathetic," said Mrs. Leighton lamely. Cuthbert -moved impatiently. - -"What silly affairs afternoon calls must be," said he. - -"Miss Steven--the girl you ran away with--isn't well to-day, and they -are rather anxious about her. She is very upset, but wanted to come and -tell you how much she thanked you." - -"Oh, lor," said Cuthbert, "what a time I shall have when I'm well. I -shall go abroad, I think." - -Elma gazed at him with superb devotion. He seemed such a man--to be -careless of so much appreciation, and from the Story Books too! -Cuthbert appeared very discontented. - -"Oh, these people!" he exclaimed; "they call and thank one as they would -their gardener if he had happened to pull one of 'em out of a pond. -It's the same thing, mummy! They never intend to be really friendly, -you know." - -Elma slipped downstairs and entered the drawing-room once more. A faint -perfume (was it "Ideal" or "Sweet Pea Blossom"?) might be discerned. A -Liberty cushion had been decidedly rumpled where Mrs. Leighton would be -bound to place Mrs. Dudgeon. Where had Adelaide Maud, the goddess of -smartness and good breeding, located herself? Elma gave a small scream -of rapture. On the bend of the couch, where the upholstering ran into a -convenient groove for hiding things, she found a little handkerchief. -It was of very delicate cambric, finely embroidered. Elma's first -terror, that it might be Mrs. Dudgeon's, was dispelled by the magic -letters of "Helen" sewn in heliotrope across a corner. It struck her as -doubtful taste in one so complete as Adelaide Maud that she should carry -heliotrope embroidery along with a blue gown. She held her prize in -front of her. - -"Now," said she deliberately, "I shall find out whether it is 'Ideal' or -'Sweet Pea.'" - -She sniffed at the handkerchief in an awe-stricken manner. The -enervating news was thus conveyed to her--Adelaide Maud put no scent on -her handkerchiefs. - -This was disappointing, but a hint in smartness not to be disobeyed. -Mrs. Dudgeon must have been the "Ideal" person. Elma rather hoped that -Hermione used scent. This would provide a loophole for herself anyhow. -But Mabel would be obliged to deny herself that luxury. - -Elma sat down on the couch with the handkerchief, and looked at the dear -old drawing-room with new eyes. She would not take that depressing view -of the people upstairs with regard to the Story Books. She was Adelaide -Maud, and was "reviewing the habitation" of "these Leighton children" -for the first time. - -"Dear me," said Adelaide Maud, "who is that sweet thing in the silver -frame?" - -"Oh," said Mrs. Leighton, "that's Mabel, my eldest." - -Then Adelaide Maud would be sure to say with a refined amount of -rapture, "Oh, is that Mabel? I have heard how pretty she is from Mr. -Maclean." - -Then mother--oh, no; one must leave mother out of this conversation. -She would have been so certain to explain that Mabel was not pretty at -all. - -Elma sat with her elbows out and her hands presumably resting on air. -"Never lean your elbows on your hips, girls," Miss Stanton, head of -deportment, informed them in school. "Get your shoulder muscles into -order for holding yourself gracefully." One could only imagine Adelaide -Maud with a faultless deportment. - -Elma carried the little handkerchief distractedly to her lips, then was -appalled at the desecration. - -Oh--and yet how lovely! It was really Adelaide Maud's! - -She tenderly folded it. - -How distinguished the drawing-room appeared! How delightful to have had -a father who made no mistakes in the choice of furniture! Cuthbert had -said so. She could almost imagine that the mauve toque must have bowed -before the Louis Seize clock and acknowledged the Cardinal Wolseley -chair. It did not occur to her to think that Mrs. Dudgeon might size up -the whole appearance of that charming room in a request for pillars and -Georgian mirrors, and beaded-work cushions. It is not given to every -one to see so far as this, however, and Elma--as Miss Dudgeon for the -afternoon--complimented her imaginary hosts on everything. As a wind-up -Miss Dudgeon asked Mrs. Leighton particularly if her third daughter -might come to take tea with Hermione. - -"So sweet of you to think of it," said the imaginary Mrs. Leighton, once -more in working order. - -Out of these dreams emerged Elma. Some one was calling her abruptly. - -"Coming," she shrieked wildly, and clutched the handkerchief. - -She kept it till she got to Cuthbert. It seemed to her that he, as an -invalid, might be allowed a bit of a treat and a secret all to himself. - -"Adelaide Maud left her handkerchief," she said. "We shall have to call -to return it." - -He gazed at the bit of cambric. - -"Good gracious, is that what you girls dry your eyes on?" - -He took it, and looked at it very coldly and critically. - -"Thank you," he said calmly. - -"Oh, Cuthbert," she exclaimed with round eyes, "you won't keep it, will -you?" - -"I shall return it to the owner some day, when she deserves it," said -the hero of yesterday, with a number of pauses between each phrase. - -"Don't say a word, chucky, will you not?" - -"I won't," said Elma honourably, yet deeply puzzled. - -Imaginary people were the best companions after all. They did exactly -what one expected them to do. - -It seemed rather selfish that Cuthbert should hang on to the -handkerchief. But of course they would never have even seen it had it -not been for the accident. - -She surrendered all ownership at the thought, and then gladly poured tea -for the domineering Cuthbert. - -"You are a decent little soul, Elma," said he. - -"And you are very extraasperating," said Elma. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - The Mayonnaise - - -The girls gave a party to celebrate the recovery of Cuthbert. They were -allowed to do this on one condition, that they made everything for it -themselves. - -This was Mr. Leighton's idea, and it found rapturous approval in the -ranks of the family, and immediate rebellion in the heart of Mrs. -Leighton. It was her one obstinacy that she should retain full hold of -the reins of housekeeping. Once let a lot of girls into the kitchen, -and where are you? - -"Once let a lot of girls grow up with no kind of responsibility in life, -and where are you then?" asked Mr. Leighton. "I don't want my girls to -drift. No man is really healthy unless he is striving after something, -if it's only after finding a new kind of beetle. I don't see how a girl -can be healthy without a definite occupation." - -"They make their beds, and they have their music," sighed Mrs. Leighton. -"Girls in my day didn't interfere with the housekeeping." - -"I've thought about their music," said Mr. Leighton. "I'm glad they have -it. But it isn't life, you know. A drawing-room accomplishment isn't -life. I want them to be equipped all round. Not just by taking classes -either. Classes end by making people willing to be taught, but the -experiences of life make them very swift to learn. We can't have them -sitting dreaming about husbands for ever. Dreams and ideals are all -very well, but one scamps the realities if one goes on at them too long. -Elma means to marry a duke, you know. Isn't it much better that in the -meantime she should learn to make a salad?" - -"The servants will be so cross," said Mrs. Leighton. She invariably saw -readily enough where she must give in, but on these occasions she never -gave in except with outward great unwillingness. - -"Oh, perhaps not," said Mr. Leighton. "They have dull enough lives -themselves. I'm sure it will be rather fun for them to see Mabel making -cakes." - -"Mabel can't make cakes," exclaimed Mrs. Leighton. Her professional -talents were really being questioned here. Throughout the length and -breadth of the country, nobody made cakes like Mrs. Leighton. - -Mr. Leighton grew a little bit testy. - -"You know, my dear, if this house were a business concern it would be -your duty to take your eldest daughter into partnership at this stage. -As it is, you seem to want to keep her out for ever." - -Mrs. Leighton sighed heavily. - -"That's just it, John," said she; "I want to keep her out for ever. I -want them all to remain little children, and myself being mother to -them. Since Mabel got her hair up--already it's different. I feel in -an underhand sort of way that I'm being run by my own daughter--I really -do." - -"More like by your own son," said Mr. Leighton. "The way you give in to -that boy is a disgrace." - -"Oh, Cuthbert's different," said Mrs. Leighton brightly. - -"Poor Mabel," smiled Mr. Leighton. - -It was an old subject with them, thrashed out again and again, ever -since Cuthbert as a rather spoiled child of seven had had his little -nose put out of joint by the first arrival of girls in the imperious -person of Mabel. Mrs. Leighton had always felt a little grieved with the -absurdly rapid manner in which Mr. Leighton's affections had gone over -to Mabel. - -"In any case, try them with the party," said he. "The only thing that -can happen is for the cook to give notice." - -"And I shall have to get another one, of course." Mrs. Leighton's voice -dwelt in a suspiciously marked manner on the pronoun. - -"Now there's another opportunity for making use of Mabel," said her -husband. - -Mrs. Leighton let her hands fall. - -"Engage my own servants! What next?" she asked. - -"Oh, I don't know," said he. "Cuthbert does heaps of things for me. -You women are the true conservatives. If we had you in power there -would be no chance for the country." - -"Well, you might have persuaded Cuthbert to succeed you as Chairman of -your Company, with a steady income and all that sort of thing," she -exclaimed, "instead of rushing him into a profession which keeps him -tied night and day, and gives him no return as yet for all his work." - -"I should never stand in the way of enthusiasm," said her husband. -"Cuthbert has a real genius for his profession." - -"Then why not find a profession for Mabel?" - -"I have thought of that. It seems right, however, that a man ought to -be equipped for one profession, and a girl for several. I can always -leave my girls enough money to keep the wolf from the door at least. I -have an objection to any girl being obliged to work entirely for her -living. Men ought to relieve them of that at least. But we must give -them occupation; work that develops. Come, come, my dear; you must let -them have their head a little, even although they ruin the cakes. A -good mother makes useless daughters, you know." - -"Well, it's a wrench, John." - -"There, there," he smiled at her. - -"And the servants are sure to give notice." - -She regretted much of her pessimism, however, when she gave the news to -the girls. Not for a long time had they been so animated. Each took -her one department in the supper menu prepared under the guidance of -Mrs. Leighton. - -First, chicken salad inserted into a tomato, cut into water-lily shape, -reposing on lettuce leaves--one on each little plate, mayonnaise -dressing on top. - -The mayonnaise captured Mabel. - -"But you can't make it, it's a most trying thing to do--better let cook -make it," interjected Mrs. Leighton. - -"What about our party?" asked Mabel. - -"Very well," said an abject mother. - -So that was settled. - -Then fruit salad, immediately claimed by Jean, who knew everything there -was to be known of fruit, inside and out, as she explained volubly. -Mrs. Leighton's quiet face twitched a trifle and then resolved itself -into business lines once more. - -Meringues! they must have meringues! Nobody seemed to rise to that. -Elma felt it was her turn. - -"They look awfully difficult," said she, "but I could try a day or two -before. I'll do the meringues." - -This cost her a great effort. Mother didn't appear at all encouraging, -She snipped her lips together in rather a grim way, and it had the -effect of sending a cold streak of fear up and down the back of the -meringue volunteer. - -"Are they very difficult, mummy?" she asked apologetically. - -"Oh, no," said Mrs. Leighton airily. "After mayonnaise, one may do -anything." - -"I can whip cream--beautifully," explained Elma. "It's that queer crusty -thing I'm afraid of." - -"I shall be ruined in eggs, I see that very distinctly," said Mrs. -Leighton. - -After this, there seemed to be no proper opportunity for Betty. - -"Couldn't I make a trifle?" she asked modestly. "A trifle at ten." Mrs. -Leighton looked her over. "Oh! very well--Betty will make trifle." - -Betty looked as though she would drop into tears. Elma put her hand -through her arm and whispered while the others debated about cakes, "I -can find out all about trifles. Miss Grace knows. She made them -cen--centuries ago, and Miss Annie never lets the new cooks try." - -Betty turned on her a happy face. - -"Oh, Elma, you're most reviving," she said gratefully. - -Then they had cakes to consider. Now and again they had been allowed to -bake cakes, and they felt that here they were on their own ground. -Betty revived in a wonderful manner, and immediately insisted on baking -a gingerbread one. - -"Nobody eats gingerbread at parties," said Mabel in a disgusted voice. -"This isn't a picnic we're arranging, or a school-room tea. It's a -grown-up party, and we just aren't going to have gingerbread." - -"Yet I've sometimes thought that gingerbread at a party tasted very -well," remarked Mrs. Leighton. - -"Oh, mummy!" Mabel seemed very sorry for her mother. - -But Betty had regained her confidence. - -"I shall bake gingerbread," she exclaimed in her most dogged manner. - -"There are always the rabbits, of course," said Jean, with her nose in -the air. - -"Girls, girls," said Mrs. Leighton. - -"Gingerbread one, walnut cream cake another. What will you bake, Jean?" - -"Orange icing," quoth Jean. - -"And sponge cake cream for Elma," she added in a thoughtful way. - -"I do like the way you fling all the uninteresting things at me," -exclaimed Elma. "I think sponge cake cream is the moistest, flabbiest, -silliest cake I know. We're putting cream in everything. Everybody -will be sick of cream. Why can't I bake a coffee cake?" - -"Why can't she?" asked Mrs. Leighton severely. - -"Coffee cake, Elma," said Mabel. She had taken to paper and pencil. "I -only hope we shall know what it is when it appears!" - -"And you'd better all begin as soon as you can," said Mrs. Leighton; "so -that we find out where we are a few days before the party occurs." - -She still looked with foreboding on the whole arrangement. - -Cook preserved a hauteur on the subject of the invasion, through which -the girls found it very hard to break. - -"Never seed such a picnic," she informed the housemaid. "My, you should -have been here when Miss Betty burned her gingerbread!" - -That was a sad occasion, and after all, there was nothing for it but the -rabbits. Betty moaned over the lost raisins, the "ginger didn't count." -"I stoned every one of them," she sighed. Mr. Leighton found some brown -lumps in the rabbit hutches. "That's not the thing for these beasts," -he said; "what is it?" And Betty explained that it would be quite safe -for them, for (once more) hadn't she stoned every raisin herself? - -"I'm glad you're a millionaire, John," said Mrs. Leighton grimly when -she heard about it. - -Elma made Betty try again. Elma's heart was in her mouth about her own -performances, but she hung over Betty till a success was secured to the -gingerbread. Then she couldn't get the kitchen for her coffee cake, -because Mabs, in a neat white apron and sleeves, was ornamenting a -ragged-looking structure of white icing with little dabs of pink, and -trying to write "Cuthbert" in neat letters across the top. She had -prepared a small cake--"just to taste it." They all tasted. It seemed -rather crumply. - -"Isn't there a good deal of walnut in it?" asked Mrs. Leighton humbly. - -"It's nearly all walnut," said Mabel. "I like walnut." - -Jean worried along with her piece. - -"Nobody will survive this party," said she. - -At last Elma's coffee cake got its innings. She was so nervous after -the gingerbread fiasco that only the ultimate good humour of Cook saved -her. - -"Don't hurry over it, Miss Elma; it's coming nicely. I'll tell you when -to stop beating." - -Nothing else would have guaranteed the existence of the cake. Cook also -saw to the firing. This gave Elma such a delightful feeling of -gratitude that she opened out her heart on the subject of meringues. -Cook said that of course it was easy for them "as had never tried" just -to rush in and make meringues the first thing. The likes of herself -found them "kittlish" things. You may make meringues all your life, and -then they'll go wrong for no reason at all. It was "knack" that was -wanted principally. - -"Do you think I've got knack, Cook?" asked Elma humbly. - -Cook gave her a clear night in the kitchen for the meringues, as a -reward for her humility. It was marvellous that nearly all of them came -fairly decently. Cook found the shapes "a bit queer," but "them as knew" -who was providing the party wouldn't think they were "either here or -there." - -"I'll make it up with the cream," quoth Elma happily. A great load was -off her mind. - -She now devoted herself to Betty's trifle. As a great triumph they -decided to provide a better trifle than even Cook knew how to prepare. -Miss Grace entered heartily into the plan. They were allowed to call -one morning when she was ensconced in the parlour. Saunders brought in -solemnly, first, several sheets of white paper. These were laid very -seriously on the bare finely-polished table. Then came a plate of -sponge cake in neat slices, a thin custard in a glass jug, several -little dishes, one of blanched almonds cut in long strips, another of -halved cherries, one of tiny macaroon biscuits, and so on. Miss Grace -set herself in a high chair, and proceedings began. Elma wondered to -the end of her days what kind of a cook Miss Grace would have made if -she had been paid for her work. Everything was prepared for Miss Grace, -but she took an hour and a quarter to finish the trifle. She added -custard in silver spoonfuls as though each one had a definite effect of -its own, and she several times measured the half glassful of cordial -which was apportioned to each layer of sponge cake. The ceremony seemed -interminable. Elma saw how true it was what her father often said, that -one ought always to have a big enough object in life to keep one from -paying too much importance to trifles. She immediately afterwards -apologized to herself for the pun, which, she explained in that half -world of dreaming to which she so often resorted, she hadn't at all -intended. - -Elma and Betty, however, to the end of their days, never forgot how to -make trifle. - -Betty's trifle was a magnificent success. - -Jean engaged a whole fruiterer's shop, as it seemed, for her salad, and -found she made enough for forty people out of a fourth of what she had -ordered. This put Mrs. Leighton back into her old prophetic position. -Had she not told Jean a quarter of that fruit would be enough? - -Mabel arranged everything in good order for her chicken concoction, and -at last had only the mayonnaise to make. That occurred on the afternoon -of the party. Cuthbert and Harry and Mr. Maclean were all -about--supposed to be helping. May Turberville, Betty's great friend, -and her brother Lance, a boy of fourteen, brought round various loans in -the way of cups and cream and sugar "things." The table in the -dining-room was laid for supper with a most dainty centre-piece decked -with roses and candelabra. Most of their labours being over, the -company retreated to the smoke-room, where "high jinks" were soon in -process. Lance capered about, balancing chairs on his nose, and doing -the wild things which only take place in a smoke-room. - -In the midst of it appeared Mabel, wide-eyed and distressed, at the -door. The white apron of a few days ago was smeared with little -elongated drops of oily stuff. She held a fork wildly dripping in her -hand. - -"Oh--oh, isn't it awful," she cried, "the mayonnaise won't may." - -It was the last anxiety, and, in the matter of the pints of the Leighton -girls, quite the last straw. Just when they had begun to be confident -of their party, the real backbone of the thing had given out. - -Dr. Harry removed a cigarette from his lips. - -"Hey--what's that?" he asked. "Mayonnaise--ripping! I knew an American -Johnnie who made it. Bring it here, and we'll put it right." - -Mabel spread her hands mutely. "In this atmosphere?" she asked. - -Oh! They had soon the windows open. Harry insisted he could make -mayonnaise. "You don't meet American men for nothing, let me tell you," -he said. It was fun to see him supplied with plate, fork and bottles. -He looked at Mabel's attempt at dressing. - -"Good gracious!" he said, "where's the egg?" - -Mabel turned rather faint. "I put in the white," said she. - -Dr. Harry roared. Then he explained carefully and kindly. - -"Mayonnaise is an interesting affair--apart from the joys of eating it. -A chemical action takes place between the yoke of an egg and the oil and -vinegar. You could hardly expect the white to play up." - -"It was Cook," exclaimed Mabel. "She said something about yokes for a -custard and whites for--for----" - -"Meringues, you donkey," said Jean. - -Dr. Harry made the mayonnaise. - -Lance Turberville cut the most shameful capers throughout. He decorated -Harry with paper aprons and the cap of a chef, and stuck his eyeglass in -the wrong eye while Harry worked patiently with a fork in semicircles. -He was sent off with Betty and May, only to reappear later dressed out -as a maid-servant. Nobody except Dr. Harry could take the mayonnaise -seriously while Lance was about. At that moment the outdoor bell rang. -With the inspiration born of mischief, and before any one could stop -him, Lance rushed off and opened it. - -Three ladies stood on the doorstep. - -He showed them solemnly into the drawing-room, tripping over his skirt -merely a trifle, and nearly giving Bertha, who had primly come to attend -to the door, hysterics. He advanced to the smoke-room, where the -mayonnaise was nearly completed. - -"Mrs. and Miss Dudgeon and Miss Steven are in the drawing-room," said -Lance. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - Visitors Again - - -By itself an occurrence like this would have been unnerving enough. -Visitors on the afternoon of a party, and such visitors! But that the -Leightons should all be more or less in a pickle in regard to the -mayonnaise and Lance's foolery seemed to take things altogether over the -barrier of ordinary life, and land everybody in a perfect fizzle. The -Dudgeons must have called to see Cuthbert, who had never been down yet -on these occasions when Mrs. Leighton and Mabel and Jean with perfect -propriety had received them. Mabel had had her innings as the eldest of -the house, but had retained an enormous reserve when speaking to Miss -Dudgeon. Not so Jean, who believed in getting to know people at once. -Elma and Betty had never ventured near them since that dreadful day when -they all did the wrong thing at the wrong moment. - -"Anyhow, the drawing-room is a perfect dream with flowers. They can -look at that for a bit," said Jean, as they began to remove the regiment -of bottles. Dr. Harry's mayonnaise was creamy and perfect, and Mabel was -in high fettle correspondingly. - -"Do you know," she said, "I don't care tuppence for the Dudgeons just -now. Let's go in and give them a decent reception for once." It -reflected the feeling of all, that nothing could disturb their gaiety on -this day. - -Elma was reminded again how right her father was in declaring that once -one had an absorbing object in front of one, trifles dwindled down to -their proper level. Why should any of them be afraid of the Story -Books? Certainly not at all, on a day when they were about to have a -ripping party, and the mayonnaise at last had "mayed." Cuthbert gave a -big jolly laugh at Mabel's speech. - -"Come along, all of you," he said. "What about those oily fingers of -yours, Harry? What a jewel of a husband you'll be! You, Lance, get off -these togs and behave yourself." - -Lance promised abjectly to be an ornament to the household for the rest -of the afternoon. Something in his look as he went off reminded Mabel -of other promises of Lance. - -"Be good," she called out to him. - -"Yes, mother," exclaimed Lance, evidently at work already tearing off -the skirt, and looking demure and mournful. He seemed very ridiculous -still, and they went off merrily to the drawing-room. - -"Cuthbert," whispered Elma, "I'm so frightened. Take me in." - -"I'm frightened too," whispered Cuthbert. - -This made her laugh, so that as she held on to his arm she approached -Adelaide Maud in admirable spirits. The party invaded the drawing-room -as a flood would invade it--or so it seemed to the Dudgeons, who were -talking quietly to Mrs. Leighton. The whole room sprouted Leightons. -Mrs. Dudgeon resorted entirely to her lorgnette, especially when she -shook hands with Cuthbert. He stood that ordeal bravely, also the -ordeal of the speech that followed. - -"You see the two very shy members of the family," he said, bowing -gravely and disregarding some sarcastic laughter from the background. -"May I introduce my young sister Elma." - -Here was honour for Elma. She shook hands with crimson cheeks. Then -came Adelaide Maud. She gave her hand to Cuthbert without a word, but -when Elma's turn came she said with rather sweet gravity, "This is the -little lady, isn't it, who plays to Miss Grace?" - -Elma was thunderstruck; but Cuthbert, the magnificent, seemed very -pleased. - -"Oh--Miss Grace didn't tell you?" asked Elma. - -"No, I heard you one day, and Miss Annie told me it was you." - -Adelaide Maud sat down on a low chair, and drew Elma on to the arm. - -"What was it you were playing?" she asked. - -"One is called 'Anything you like,' and one is 'A little thing of my -own,' and the others are just anything," said Elma. - -Adelaide Maud laughed. - -The room was filled with chattering voices, and Mrs. Dudgeon had claimed -Cuthbert, so that it became a very easy thing for them to be -confidential without any one's noticing. - -"It's quite stup--stup----" Elma stopped. - -"Stupid?" asked Adelaide Maud. - -"No, stup-endous," said Elma thankfully, "for me to be talking all alone -with you." Her fright had run away, as it always did whenever any one -looked kindly at her. The sweet eyes of Adelaide Maud disarmed her, and -she worshipped on the spot. "I've always been so afraid of you," she -said simply. "It ought to be Hermione, but I know it will always be -you." - -"Who is Hermione?" asked Adelaide Maud. - -Elma suddenly woke up. - -"Oh, I daren't tell you," said she. - -Adelaide Maud looked about her in a constrained way. - -"I wish you would play to me, dear," she said. - -Was this really to be believed! - -"I could in the schoolroom," said Elma, "but not here." - -"Take me to the schoolroom," said Adelaide Maud. - -Elma placed her hand in that of the other delicately gloved one without -a tremor. - -"Don't let them see us go," she begged. - -Three people did, however: Cuthbert with a bounding heart, Mabel with -thankfulness that the house was really in exhibition order, and Jean -with blank amazement. Elma had walked off in ten minutes intimately -with the flower that Jean had, as it were, been tending carefully for -weeks, and had not dared to pluck. There was something of the dark -horse about Elma. - -They were much taken up with Miss Steven however. She was very fair and -petite, and had pretty ways of curving herself and throwing back her -head, and of spreading her hands when she talked. She seemed to like to -have the eyes of the room fixed on her. Quite different from the -Dudgeons, who in about two ticks stared one out of looking at them at -all. Mr. Leighton came in also, and what might be called her last thaw -was undergone by Mrs. Dudgeon in the pleasure of meeting him. If she -had her ideas on beaded cushions, she had certainly no objections to Mr. -Leighton. In five minutes he was explaining to her that sea trout are -to be discovered in fresh water lakes at certain seasons of the year. - -Unfortunately, just then Mrs. Dudgeon happened to look out of the -windows. There were three long ones, and each opened out on that sunny -day to the lawn at the side of the house. If Mrs. Dudgeon had kept her -eye on the Louis Seize clock or the famous Monticelli, all might have -gone well, but she preferred to look out of the window. In spite of the -general hilarity of the party around her, her action in looking out -seemed to impress them all. Everybody except Mr. Leighton looked out -also, and then came an ominous silence. - -Mr. Maclean giggled. - -This formed a link to a burst of conversation. Jean turned to Miss -Steven and engaged her in a whirlwind of talk. Cuthbert vainly -endeavoured to move the stony glance of Mrs. Dudgeon once more in the -direction of his father. Dr. Harry wildly asked Mabel to play -something. - -Mabel never forgave him. - -Mrs. Dudgeon immediately became preternaturally polite, said she had -often heard of the musical proclivities of the Misses Leighton, and -Mabel had really to play. - -"Oh, Harry," she exclaimed, "I never played with a burden like this on -my mind, never in all my life. The party to-night--and that mayonnaise -(it will keep maying, won't it?)--and Elma goodness knows where with -Adelaide Maud, and those kids in the garden--couldn't Cuthbert go and -slay them?" - -She dashed into a Chopin polonaise. - -The kids in the garden were what had upset Mrs. Dudgeon. There were -two--evidently playing "catch me if you can" with one of the -maid-servants--the one who had shown them in. She rushed about in a -manner which looked very mad. This exhibition on the drawing-room side -of the house! Really--these middle class people! - -Mrs. Dudgeon extended the lorgnette to looking at them once more. - -A horizontal bar was erected in a corner of the lawn. Towards this the -eccentric maid-servant seemed to be making determined passes, -frantically prevented every now and again by the two young girls. The -chords of the "railway polonaise" hammered out a violent accompaniment. -Mabel could play magnificently when in a rage. Little Miss Steven was -enchanted. - -Nearer came the maid-servant to the horizontal bar. At last she reached -it. May and Betty sat down plump on the lawn in silent despair. Lance -pulled himself gently and gracefully up. Not content with getting -there, he kissed his hand to the unresponsive drawing-room windows. To -do him justice, there was little sign for him that any one saw him, and -Mabel's piano playing seemed to envelop everything. He did some -graceful things towards the end of the polonaise, but with the last -chords became violently mischievous again. With a wild whirl he turned -a partial somersault. Mrs. Dudgeon shrieked. "Oh, that woman," said -she. Just then Lance stopped his whirlings and sent his feet straight -into the air. His skirts fell gracefully over his face. Dr. Harry -laughed a loud laugh, and at last Mr. Leighton asked what was the -matter. - -"It's Lance," said Jean. "He has been playing tricks all the -afternoon." - -Everything might have been forgiven except that Mrs. Dudgeon had been -taken in. She had screamed, "That woman." - -She began to look about for Adelaide Maud. - -"Will you be so kind as to tell my daughter that we must be going," she -said to Mr. Leighton. - -Cuthbert volunteered to look for her. - -Dr. Harry really did the neat thing. He went out for Lance and brought -him in with Betty and May. He hauled Lance by the ear to Mrs. Dudgeon. - -"Here you see a culprit of the deepest dye." - -Lance looked very rosy and mischievous, and Miss Steven, who had been -immersed in hysterical laughter since his exploit on the bar, was -delighted with him. - -"I am so sorry," said Lance gravely, encouraged by this appreciation, -"but I promised mother that I should be an ornament to the company this -afternoon." - -"Oh, Lance," said May, "how can you!" - -"By 'mother,' of course I mean Mabel," said Lance to Mrs. Dudgeon in an -explanatory fashion. "She has grown so cocky since she put her hair -up." - -Mrs. Dudgeon determined to give up trying to unravel the middle classes. - -Mr. Maclean broke in. "Everybody spoils Lance, Mrs. Dudgeon. It isn't -quite his own fault; look at Miss Steven." - -Miss Steven, always prompt to appreciate a person's wickedest mood, had -made an immediate friend of Lance. - -"They are a great trial to us, these young people," said Mr. Leighton -gently. - -The speech wafted her back to her gracious mood, and for a little while -longer she forgot that she had sent for Adelaide Maud. - -Meanwhile Cuthbert endeavoured to discover what had happened to that -"delicious" person. - -With swishing skirts, and gleam of golden hair under a white hat, Elma -had seen herself escort Adelaide Maud from the drawing-room to the -schoolroom. Adelaide Maud sat on a hassock in the room where "You don't -mean to say you were all babies," and Elma played "Anything you like" to -her. - -Adelaide Maud's face became of the dreamy far-away consistency of Miss -Grace's--without the cap, and Elma felt her cup of happiness run over. - -"Does your sister play like that?" asked Adelaide Maud. - -"Far better," said Elma simply. - -They heard the bars of the railway polonaise, and the schoolroom, being -just over the drawing-room, they had also the full benefit of Lance's -exploit. - -Adelaide Maud laughed and laughed. - -"Oh, what will Mrs. Dudgeon say?" asked Elma. - -She told Adelaide Maud about the party, a frightful "breach of -etiquette," as Mabel informed her later. Adelaide Maud's face grew -serious and rather sad. - -"What a pity you live in another ph--phrase of society," sighed Elma, -"or you would be coming too, wouldn't you?" - -"Would you really ask me?" asked Adelaide Maud. - -Ask her? - -Did Adelaide Maud think that if the world were made of gold and one -could help one's self to it, one wouldn't have a little piece now and -again! She was just about to explain that they would do anything in the -world to ask her, when Cuthbert came into the room. Adelaide Maud got -so stiff at that moment, that immediately Elma understood that it would -never do to ask her to the party. - -Cuthbert explained that Mrs. Dudgeon had sent him to fetch Miss Dudgeon. - -"Oh," said Adelaide Maud. - -She did not make the slightest move towards leaving, however. - -She looked straight at Cuthbert, and Elma could have sworn she saw her -lip quiver. - -"I believe I have to apologize to you," she said in a very cold voice. -"I cut out a dance, didn't I--at the Calthorps'!" - -"Did you?" asked Cuthbert. - -Elma wondered that he could be so negligent in speaking to Adelaide -Maud. She never could bear to see Cuthbert severe, and it had the -effect of terrifying her a trifle and making her take the hand of -Adelaide Maud in a defensive sort of manner. - -Adelaide Maud held her hand quite tightly, as though Elma were really a -friend of some standing. - -"I didn't intend to, but I know it seemed like it," said Adelaide Maud -in perfectly freezing tones. - -Cuthbert looked at her very directly, and seemed to answer the freezing -side more than the apologizing one. - -"Oh--a small thing of that sort, what does it matter"? he said grandly. - -Adelaide Maud turned quite pale. - -"Thank you," said she. "It's quite sweet of you to take it like that," -and she marched out of the schoolroom with her skirts swishing and her -head high. No--it would never do to invite Adelaide Maud to the party. - -Elma however had seen another side to this very dignified lady, and so -ran after her and took her hand again. - -"You aren't vexed with me, are you?" she whispered. - -Adelaide Maud at the turn of the stairs, and just at the point where -Cuthbert, coming savagely behind, could not see, bent and kissed Elma. - -"What day do you go to Miss Grace's?" she asked. - -"To-morrow at three," whispered Elma, with her plans quite suddenly -arranged. - -"Don't tell," said Adelaide Maud, "I shall be there." - -Mrs. Dudgeon departed with appropriate graciousness. The irrepressible -gaiety of the company round her had merely served to make her more -unapproachable. She greeted Adelaide Maud with a stare, and strove to -make her immediate adieus. Mr. Maclean, always ready to notice a -deficiency, remembered that Mr. Leighton had never met Adelaide Maud, -and forthwith introduced her. Adelaide Maud took this introduction -shyly, and Mr. Leighton was charmed with her. With an unfaltering -estimate of character he appraised her then as being one in a hundred -amongst girls. Adelaide Maud, on her part, showed him gentle little -asides to her nature which one could not have believed existed. Mrs. -Dudgeon grew really impatient at the constant interruptions which -impeded her exit. - -"Mr. Leighton has just been telling me," she said by way of getting out -of the drawing-room, "that a little party is to be celebrated here -to-night. I fear we detain you all." Nothing could have been more -gracious--and yet! Mabel flushed. It seemed so like a children's -affair--that they should be having a party, and that the really -important people were actually clearing out in order to allow it to -occur. - -Miss Steven said farewell with real regret. - -"I don't know when I have had such a jolly afternoon," she said. "I -think I must get knocked over oftener. Though I don't want Mr. Leighton -to break his ribs every time. Do you know," she said in a most -heart-breaking manner, "I've been hardly able to breathe for thinking of -it. You can't think how nice it is to see you all so jolly after all." - -When they had got into the Dudgeons' carriage, and were rolling swiftly -homewards, she yawned a trifle. - -"What cures they are," she said airily. - -Adelaide Maud, in her silent corner of the carriage, felt her third pang -of that memorable afternoon. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - The Party - - -Nobody knew how anybody got dressed for the party, and certainly nobody -took any dinner to speak of. It was laid in the morning-room, and Mr. -Leighton said throughout that roystering meal that never again, no -matter how many ribs Cuthbert broke or how much sympathy he excited, -would he allow them to have a party. - -The occasion became memorable, not only because of Cuthbert or the -mayonnaise, or the Dudgeons, but because on that night Robin Meredith -appeared. Mabel and Jean lately had already in quite a practical manner -begun to wonder whom Mabel would be obliged to marry. Jean was getting -very tall, and showed signs of being so near the grown-up stage herself, -that she was anxious to see Mabel disposed of, so as to leave the way -clear. - -"The eldest of four ought to look sharp," she declared; "we can't allow -any trifling." - -This seemed rather overwhelming treatment of Mabel, who was only -seventeen. But viewed from that age, even a girl of twenty-one is -sometimes voted an old maid, and Mabel was quite determined not to -become an old maid. - -"There seems to be only George Maclean," she had sighed in a dismal way. -She was quite different from Elma, who continually dreamed of a duke. -George Maclean would do very well for Mabel, only, as Jean complained, -"George Maclean is a gentleman and all that kind of thing, but he has no -prospects." So they rather disposed of George Maclean, for immediate -purposes at least. Then came Mr. Meredith. After that, in the language -of the Leightons, it was all up with Mabel. She would simply have to -get engaged and married to Mr. Meredith. - -Mr. Meredith was of middle height, with rather a square, fair face, and -a short cut-away dark moustache. He spoke in a bright concise sort of -way, and darted very quick glances at people when addressing them. He -came in with the Gardiners, and after shaking hands with Mrs. Leighton -he darted several quick glances round the room, and then asked abruptly -of Lucy Gardiner "Who was the tall girl in white?" - -Here was the point where the fortunes of the Leighton girls became at -last crystallized, concrete. It is all very well to dream, but it is -much pleasanter to be sure that something is really about to happen. - -None of this undercurrent was noticeable, however, in the general -behaviour of that imaginative four. They began the evening in a -dignified way with music. Every one either sang or played. Jean in her -usual hearty fashion dashed through a "party piece." Even Elma was -obliged to play the Boccherini Minuet, which she did with the usual -nervous blunders. - -As Dr. Harry placed the music ready for her, she whispered to him, -"Whenever I lift my heels off the floor, my knees knock against each -other." - -"Keep your heels down," said Dr. Harry with the immobile air of a -commanding officer. - -Elma found the piano pedals, and in the fine desire to follow out Dr. -Harry's instructions played Boccherini with both pedals down throughout. - -"How you do improve, Elma!" said May Turberville politely. - -And Elma looked at her with a mute despair in her eyes of which hours of -laughter could not rid them. If only they knew, those people in that -room, if only they knew what she wanted to play, the melodies that came -singing in her heart when she was happy, the minor things when she was -sad! All she could do when people were collected to stare at her was to -play the Boccherini Minuet exceedingly badly. The weight of "evenings" -had begun already to rest on Elma. Her undoubted gifts at learning and -understanding music brought her into sharp prominence with her teachers -and family, but never enabled Elma to exhibit herself with advantage on -any real occasion. - -It was all the more inexplicable that Mabel could at once dash into -anything with abandon and perfect correctness. Technique and -understanding seemed born in her. In the same way could she, -light-heartedly and gracefully, take the new homage of Mr. Meredith, who -made no secret of his interest in her from the first moment of entering -the drawing-room. Mabel received him as she received a Sonata by -Beethoven. With fleet fingers she could read the one as though she had -practised it all her life; with dainty manners she seemed to comprehend -Mr. Meredith from the start, as though she had been accustomed to -refusing and accepting desirable husbands from time immemorial. It put -her on a new footing with the rest of the girls. They felt in quite a -decided way, within a few days even, that the old, rather childish -fashion of talking about husbands was to be dropped, and that no jokes -were to be perpetrated in regard to Mr. Meredith. It began to be no fun -at all having an eligible sister in the house. - -On this night, however, they were still children. About forty young -people, school friends of themselves and Cuthbert, sustained that gaiety -with which they had begun the afternoon. Even the musical part, where -Mr. Leighton presided and encouraged young girls with no musical talents -whatever to play and sing, passed with a certain amount of lightness. -Before an interlude of charades, a strange girl was shown in. She -giggled behind an enormous fan, and made a great show of canary-coloured -curls in the process. She seemed to have on rather skimpy skirts, and -she showed in a lumbering way rather large shiny patent shoes with flat -boys' bows on them. - -There was a moment of indecision before Betty broke out with the remark, -"You might have had the sense to hide your feet, Lance." - -The canary-coloured curls enabled Lance to look becomingly foolish. In -any case, Mr. Leighton could not prevent the intellectual part of the -evening from falling to bits. They had no more real music. Instead, -they fell on Lance and borrowed his curls, and made some good charades -till supper time. - -"I can't help feeling very rocky about that supper," whispered Jean to -Mabel. "Yet we've everything--sandwiches, cake, fruit and lemonade, tea -and coffee. What can go wrong now?" - -"Oh! the thing's all right," said Mabel, who was in a severely exalted -mood by this time. - -They trooped into the dining-room, where girls were provided in a crushy -way with seats round the room, and boys ran about and handed them -things. Mrs. Leighton gave the head of the table to Mabel, who sat in -an elderly way and poured coffee. The salad was magnificent. Aunt -Katharine had come in "to look on." Mrs. Leighton told her how Mabel -had arranged forty-two plates that morning, with water-lily tomatoes cut -ready and chopped chicken in the centres, and had nearly driven Cook -silly with the shelves she used for storing these things in cool places. - -"Wherever you looked--miles and miles of little plates with red water -lilies," said Mrs. Leighton. "It was most distracting for Cook. I -wonder the woman stays." - -"What a mess," said Aunt Katharine. "You spoil these girls, you know, -Lucy." - -"Oh--it's Mr. Leighton," said she sadly. - -"I don't think mayonnaise is a very suitable thing for young people's -parties," said Aunt Katharine dingily. - -By this time the white cake with "Cuthbert" in pink was handed solemnly -round. Every person had a large piece, it looked so good. - -Every one said, "Walnut, how lovely," when they took the first bite. - -Every one stopped at the second bite. - -"Cuthbert," called out Mrs. Leighton after she had investigated her own -piece, "I notice that your father has none of the cake. Please take him -a slice and see that he eats it." - -Mr. Leighton waved it away. - -"I do not eat walnuts," said he. - -Mrs. Leighton went to him. - -"John, this is not fair, this is your idea of a party," she said. "You -ought to eat Cuthbert's cake." - -"He can't," cried Jean; "nobody can. It's only Mabel who likes iced -marbles." - -"You will all have to eat gingerbread," said the voice of Betty -hopefully. - -Jean started up in great indignation with a large battered-looking -"orange iced cake" ready to cut. - -"Betty always gets herself advertized first," she complained. "Please -try my orange icing." - -They did--they tried anything in order to escape Mabel's walnuts. It -occurred to the girls that Mabel would be quite broken up at the -wretched failure of her wonderful cake--the Cuthbert cake too. It was -such a drop from their high pedestal of perfection. Even mummy, who had -been so much on her own high horse at all their successes, now became -quite feelingly sorry about the cake. She gave directions for having -the loose pieces collected and surreptitiously put out of sight, but the -large dish had to remain in front of Mabel. Mabel was still charmingly -occupied over her coffee cups. She poured in a pretty direct way and -yet managed to talk interestedly to Mr. Meredith. He was invaluable as -a helper. - -"And now, at last," said she in a most winning manner, "you must have a -slice of my cake. I baked it myself, and it's full of walnuts. Don't -you love walnuts?" - -"I do," said Mr. Meredith. - -May Turberville nudged Betty, and Lance stared open-mouthed at the -courage of Mabel. He would do a good deal for the Leighton girls, but -he barred that particular cake. An electric feeling of comprehension -ran round the company. They seemed to know that Mabel was about to -taste her own cake and give a large slice to Mr. Meredith. They made -little airy remarks to one another in order to keep the conversation -going, so that Mabel might not detect by some sudden pause that every -one was watching her. One heard Julia Gardiner say in an intense manner -to Harry Somerton that the begonias at Mrs. Somerton's were a "perfect -dream." And Harry answered that for his part he liked football better. -Even Mr. Leighton noticed the trend of things, and stopped discussing -higher morality with Aunt Katharine. - -Mabel seemed to take an interminable time. She gave Mr. Meredith a -large piece, and insisted besides on serving him with an unwieldy lump -of pink icing containing a large scrawly "e" from the last syllable of -Cuthbert's name. - -"E--aw," brayed Lance gently, and Betty exploded into a long series of -helpless giggles. - -"What a baby you are, Lance," said Mabel, amiably laughing. She bit -daintily at the walnut cake. - -Mr. Meredith bit largely. - -There was an enormous pause while they waited to see what he would do. - -Cuthbert and Ronald Martin were near, aimlessly handing trifle and fruit -salad. Mr. Meredith helped with one hand to pass a cup. - -"You know, Leighton," he said, "I have a great friend, he was one of -your year--Vincent Hope--do you remember him?" - -Cuthbert stared. One mouthful was gone and Mr. Meredith was cheerfully -gulping another. - -"What a digestion the man has," he thought, and next was plunged -politely in reminiscent conversation regarding his College days. - -Mabel sat crunching quite happily at the despised walnut cake. - -Lance approached her timidly. - -"For Heaven's sake," he said, "give me a large cup of coffee for the -ostrich. The man will die if he isn't helped." - -"Who on earth do you mean, Lance?" asked Mabel innocently. - -"Meredith. Don't you see he has eaten the cake." - -Mabel looked conscience-stricken. Her own slice had not dwindled much. - -"It is rather chucky-stoney, isn't it?" she asked anxiously. - -"It's terrific," said Lance sagely. - -Mabel looked quite crushed for a moment, so crushed that even Lance's -mischievous heart relented. - -"Never mind, Mabel," he comforted her. "If Meredith can do that much -for you without a shudder, he will do anything. It's a splendid test." - -A golden maxim of Mrs. Leighton's flashed into Mabel's mind, "You never -know a man till he has been tried." It made her smile to think that -already they might be supposed to be getting to know Mr. Meredith -because of her villainous cake. - -"The piece we tested wasn't so bad," she explained to Lance, quite -forgetting that she had skimmed that quantity in order to get plenty of -chopped walnuts into the "real" cake. - -A few people in the room seemed fearfully amused, and poor Mabel in an -undefined manner began to feel decidedly out of it. Lance went about -like a conspirator, commenting on the appearance of "the ostrich." He -approached Cuthbert, asking him in an anxious manner how long the signs -of rapid poisoning might be expected to take to declare themselves after -a quadruple dose of walnut cake. Mr. Meredith unruffled, still handed -about cups for Mabel. - -Jean was in a corner with her dearest friend Maud Hartley. - -"Isn't it wonderful what love can do?" she remarked quite seriously. It -was a curious thing that Elma, who dreamed silly dreams about far-away -things, and was despised for this accordingly by the robust Jean, did -not become romantic over Mr. Meredith at all. She merely thought that -he must be fearfully fond of walnuts. - -The supper was hardly a pleasure to her--or to Betty. Every dish was an -anxiety. They could almost count the plates for the different courses -in their desire to know whether each had been successfully disposed of. -There was no doubt about the trifle. - -"What a pity Mabel didn't make it," sighed Jean. After all, Mabel had -only inspired the chicken salad, and even there Dr. Harry had made the -mayonnaise. - -"It isn't much of a start for her with Mr. Meredith," she sighed -dismally, "if only we hadn't told anybody which was which." - -Mr. Meredith took a large amount of trifle, praising it considerably. - -This alarmed Lance more than ever. - -"One good thing does not destroy a bad thing," he exclaimed. "The first -axiom to be learned in chemistry is that one smell does not kill -another. It is a popular delusion that it does. Meredith seems to have -been brought up on popular lines." - -He posed in front of Cuthbert with his hands in his pockets. - -"We are running a great risk," said he. "To-morrow morning Meredith may -be saying things about your sisters which may prevent us men from being -friends with him--for ever." - -Above the general flood of conversation, Aunt Katharine's treble voice -might now be heard. - -"Mabel," she said in a kind manner, "I must compliment you. When your -mother told me about this ridiculous party, I told her she was spoiling -you as she always does. In my young days we weren't allowed to be -extravagant and experiment in cooking whenever a party occurred. We -began with the 'common round, the daily task.'" Aunt Katharine sighed -heavily. "But I never knew you could make a trifle like this." - -Mabel had been sitting like the others, trying to subdue the merriment -which Aunt Katharine's long speeches usually aroused. The wind-up to -this tirade alarmed her however. She would have to tell them all, with -Mr. Meredith standing there, that the trifle was not her trifle. She -would have to say that it was Betty's. - -Before she could open her mouth however, the whole loyal regiment of -Leightons had forestalled her. - -"Isn't it a jolly trifle!" they exclaimed. Mabel could even hear -Betty's little pipe joining in. - -"Oh, but I must tell you," she began. - -Cuthbert appeared at the doorway. - -"Drawing-room cleared for dancing," said he. "Come along." - -That finished it, and the girls were delighted with themselves. But one -little melancholy thing, for all her partisanship, disturbed Jean -considerably. Mr. Meredith, on giving his arm to Mabel for the first -dance, was heard distinctly to remark, "You make all these delicious -things as well as play piano! How clever of you." - -And Mabel looking perfectly possessed floated round to the first waltz -as though she had not made a complete muddle of the walnut cake. - -Jean did not regret their generosity, but she was saddened by it. - -"It all comes of being the eldest," she confided to Maud, "We may stand -on our heads now if we like, but if anything distinguished happens in -the family, Mabel will get the credit of it." - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - At Miss Grace's - - -Miss Grace sat crocheting in her white and gold drawing-room and Elma -played to her. Then the front door bell rang. - -"Oh please, Miss Grace," said Elma with crimson cheeks, "that is -Adelaide Maud." - -"She isn't coming, I hope, to disturb our afternoons, and your playing," -asked Miss Grace anxiously. - -"Oh, Miss Grace, she has eyes like yours and listens most -interrogatively," said Elma in the greatest alarm. The fear that Miss -Grace might be offended only now assailed her. - -"Intelligently, dear," corrected Miss Grace. - -"I never did truly think she would come," said Elma. - -"Then, dear, it was not very polite to invite her." Miss Grace could -not bear that Elma should miss any point in her own gentle code of -etiquette. - -"In justice to little Elma, I invited myself." The full-throated tones -of Miss Dudgeon's voice came to them from the door. "And what is more, -I said to Saunders, 'Let me surprise Miss Grace, I do not want to -disturb the music.'" - -"And then of course the music stopped," said Miss Grace. - -She kissed Adelaide Maud in a very friendly way. - -"Oh, but it will go on again at once, if neither of you are offended," -said Elma. She was much relieved. - -"You must not be so afraid of offending people," said Miss Grace. "It -is a great fault of yours, dear." - -As Adelaide Maud bent to kiss her, Elma was struck with the justice of -this criticism. - -"I believe I might be as fascinating as Mabel if only I weren't afraid," -she thought to herself. The reflection made her play in a minor key. - -"Just let me say a few words to Miss Grace," had said Adelaide Maud. -"Play on and don't mind us for a bit." - -Adelaide Maud spoke to Miss Grace in an undertone. Elma thought they did -it to let her feel at ease, and correspondingly played quite happily. - -"I have seen Dr. Merryweather," said Adelaide Maud to Miss Grace. "He -says you must go off for a change at once." - -"Dr. Merryweather!" - -Miss Grace turned very pale. - -"Exactly. I did it on my own responsibility. He was most concerned -about you. He said that what Dr. Smith had ordered you ought to carry -out." - -"He was always very hard on Annie," said Miss Grace, who saw only one -side to such a proposal. - -Adelaide Maud bent her head a trifle. - -"You ought not to think of Miss Annie, at present," said she. "It isn't -right. It isn't fair to her either, supposing you turn really ill, what -would become of her?" - -Neither noticed the lagging notes on the piano. Instead, in the -earnestness of their conversation, they entirely forgot Elma. - -Miss Grace shook her head. - -"I can't help it," she said. "Whatever happens to me, I must stay by my -bed-ridden sister. Who would look after her if I deserted her? What is -my poor well-being compared to hers!" - -The notes on the piano fell completely away. Elma sat with the tears -raining down her face. - -"Oh, Miss Grace," she said brokenly, "are you ill? Don't say you are -ill." - -The sky had fallen indeed, if such a thing could be true, as Miss Grace -in a trouble of her own--and such a trouble--ill health--when Miss Annie -required her so much. - -Adelaide Maud looked greatly discouraged. - -"Now, Elma," she exclaimed abruptly, "Miss Grace is only a little bit -ill, and it's to keep her from getting worse that I'm talking to her. -We didn't intend you to listen. Miss Annie will wonder why the piano -has stopped. Be cheerful now and play a bit--something merrier than -what you've been at." - -She pretended not to see that Miss Grace wiped her eyes a trifle. - -"I make you an offer, Miss Grace. I shall come here every day and stay -and be sweet to every one. I shall take Miss Annie her flowers and her -books and her work, and I shall bark away all nasty intruders like a -good sheep dog. I shall keep the servants in a good temper--including -Saunders who is a love, and I promise you, you will never regret it--if -only you go away for a holiday--now--before you have time to be ill, -because you didn't take the thing at the start!" - -(Could this be Adelaide Maud!) - -Elma flung herself off the music stool, and rushed to Miss Grace. - -"And oh, please, please, Miss Grace, let me go with you to see that you -get better. You never will unless some one makes you. You will just -try to get back to Miss Annie." Thus Elma sounded the first note of -that great quality she possessed which distinguished the thing other -people required and made her anxious to see it given to them. - -A break in Miss Grace's calm determination occurred. - -"Oh that, my love, my dear little love, that would be very pleasant." -She patted Elma's hand with anxious affection. - -Adelaide Maud looked hopeful. - -"Won't you leave it to us?" she asked, "to Dr. Smith to break it to Miss -Annie, as a kind of command, and to me to break it to Mr. Leighton as an -abject request? Because I believe this idea of Elma's is about as -valuable as any of mine. You must have some one with you who knows how -self-denying you are, Miss Grace. You ought to have Dr. Merryweather -with you in fact, to keep you in order." - -"My dear, how can you suggest such a thing," said Miss Grace. She was -quite horrified. - -"Dr. Smith," she turned to Elma, "has ordered me off to Buxton, to a -nasty crowded hotel where they drink nasty waters all day long." - -"They don't drink the waters in the hotel, and the hotels are very -nice," corrected Miss Dudgeon. - -"It will be very hot and crowded and dull," wailed Miss Grace. It was -astonishing how obstinate Miss Grace could be on a point where her own -welfare was concerned. - -Elma clasped and unclasped her hands. - -"A hotel! Oh, Miss Grace, how perfectly lovely!" - -"There, you see," said Miss Dudgeon, wonderfully quick to notice where -her advantage came in, "you see what a delightful time you will confer -on whoever goes with you. Some of us love hotels." - -Perhaps nobody ever knew what a golden picture the very suggestion -opened out to Elma. Already she was in a gorgeous erection with gilt -cornices and red silk curtains, like one she had seen in town. People -whom she had never met were coming and going and looking at her as -though they would like to speak to her. She would not know who their -aunts or cousins or parents were, and she shouldn't have to be -introduced. They would simply come to Miss Grace and, noticing how -distinguished she looked, they would say, "May I do this or that for -you," and the thing was done. She herself would be able to behave to -them as she always behaved in her daydreams, very correctly and -properly. She would never do the silly blundering thing which one -always did when other people were well aware of the reputation one was -supposed to bear. Didn't every one at home know, before she sat down to -play piano for instance, that she invariably made mistakes. Jean would -say, "Oh, Elma gets so rattled, you know," and immediately it seemed as -though she ought to get rattled. Nobody in the hotel would know this. -She saw herself playing to an immense audience without making a single -mistake. Then the applause--it became necessary to remember that Miss -Grace was still speaking. - -Miss Grace sat with her hands folded nervously. She was quite erect in a -way, but there was invariably a pathetic little droop to her head and -shoulders which gave her a delicate appearance. A very costly piece of -creamy lace was introduced into the bodice of her grey gown, and on it -the locket which contained Miss Annie's portrait and hair rose and fell -in little agitated jerks. Miss Annie wore a corresponding locket -containing Miss Grace's portrait and hair, but these always lay -languorously on her white throat undisturbed by such palpitation as now -excited Miss Grace. - -"Oh, my dear," she said to Miss Dudgeon, "you don't understand. The -gaiety of the place is nothing to me. It's like being here--where my -friends say to me how nice it is to have windows opening on to the high -road, where so many people pass. I tell them that it isn't those who -pass, it is those who come in who count. You passed for so long, my -dear." - -She put her hand mutely on that of Adelaide Maud. - -It was true then. Miss Grace hadn't known her all these years when the -Leighton girls talked about the Story Books so much, but only recently! -The Dudgeons must really be coming out of their shell. - -Elma's eyes grew round with conjecture. - -Why was Adelaide Maud so friendly now? - -"It was really Dr. Merryweather," said Adelaide Maud. - -A faint flush invaded Miss Grace's pallor. - -"It is most kind of Dr. Merryweather. Years ago, I am afraid we rather -slighted him." - -"Oh well, he keeps a very friendly eye on you, Miss Grace, and he says -you are to go to Buxton." - -It became the first real trouble of Miss Grace's own life, that she -should have to go to Buxton. Adelaide Maud arranged it for her, -otherwise the thing would never have occurred. It was she who persuaded -Dr. Smith to put it this way to Miss Annie that it would be dangerous -for her to have the anxiety of Miss Grace's being ill at home, and most -upsetting to the household. It was better that the excursion should be -looked upon as a holiday graciously granted by Miss Annie, the donor of -it, than an imperative measure ordered by the doctor for the saving of -Miss Grace. - -Miss Grace wondered at the ready acquiescence of Miss Annie. She seemed -almost pleased to let her sister go. In a rather sad way, Miss Grace -began to wonder whether, after all, she might not have released herself -years ago. Would Annie have minded? The progress of this malady which -now asserted itself, she had quietly ignored for so long, that only a -darting pain, which might attack her in the presence of Miss Annie, had -compelled her to consult Dr. Smith. He was astonished at what she had -suffered. - -"You do not deserve to have me tell you how fortunate it is that after -all we have nothing malignant to discover," he told her. "But you will -become really ill, helpless occasionally, if you do not take this in -hand now." Just after he had gone, Adelaide Maud called. She came to -ask for money in connection with the church, but she stayed to talk over -Miss Grace's symptoms. The grey shadow on Miss Grace's face had alarmed -her. - -"Aren't you well, Miss Grace?" she asked sympathetically. Then for the -first time since Miss Annie had gone to bed, Miss Grace had given way -and confessed what the trouble was to Adelaide Maud. - -It became astonishing to think how rapidly things could happen in so -tiny and so slow a place. - -Here they were now, in a happy confidential trio, the moving inspirator -that smart, garden-party person, Adelaide Maud. - -The Leighton girls could not believe it. They had, with the exception -of Elma, reached a hopeless condition with regard to the Story Books. -The Dudgeons had so palpably shown themselves, even although graciously -polite throughout, to be of so entirely different a set to the -Leightons. None of the girls except Adelaide Maud had called. And -after what Cuthbert had done! Elma certainly felt the difference that -might occur where Miss Grace and Miss Annie were concerned. "Why -haven't we a footman and an odd man?" asked Jean viciously. "Then it -would be all right." - -Now came the invitation for Elma to go with Miss Grace. - -Both Mr. and Mrs. Leighton were greatly touched. Mr. Leighton put his -hand on Elma's shoulder. - -"When you can make yourself indispensable to your best friends, that is -almost as great a thing as playing the Moonlight Sonata without a -mistake," said he. - -But both Mrs. Leighton and he refused to let Elma go. They called on -Miss Grace to explain. The fact that they had left Elma in a state of -despair that bordered on rebellion made them more firm. - -"Elma is so young," said Mrs. Leighton, "and so highly strung and -sensitive, I can't let her go with an easy mind. She has visited so -seldom, and then invariably lain awake at nights with the excitement. It -wouldn't be good for you, Miss Grace. I should have you both very much -on my mind." - -Adelaide Maud was there. - -"I see your point, Mrs. Leighton," she said brightly. "But Elma knows -Miss Grace so well, wouldn't it be just like going with you or Mr. -Leighton." - -Mr. Leighton interposed. - -"It's more for the sake of Miss Grace. She must have some one regarding -whom she does not require to be anxious. Elma is a dreamy little being, -and might turn home-sick in an hour, or frightened if Miss Grace were a -little ill--anything might occur in that way." - -"But she is nearly thirteen. Some day she must be cured of -home-sickness, and Miss Grace will take her maid," said Adelaide Maud. -"Oh, Mr. Leighton, don't hold in your daughters too much! It's so hard -on them later." - -Adelaide Maud looked quite pathetic. - -"It isn't so with all of them," said Mrs. Leighton. "Jean is quite -different. Jean can go anywhere." - -Underneath Mrs. Leighton's kind, loving ways lay a superb respect for -the domineering manners of her second daughter. - -"I should never be afraid of Jean's lying awake at night, or turning -home-sick. She is much too sensible." - -Miss Grace became impressed with the virtues of Jean. - -"Then Jean might come," she proposed apologetically. - -Adelaide Maud could not forgive her. After having awakened that radiant -look in Elma's eyes, to weakly propose that she might take the robust -Jean! - -Mrs. Leighton's eyes wandered to her husband. - -"Jean grows so fast. Perhaps a change would do her good," she suggested -vaguely. - -"I should feel much more confident of Jean," said he. - -So it was arranged. - -Elma never forgot it. She wept silently in her room, and accepted -comfort from no one, not even her mother. - -"There is one thing, Jean oughtn't to have said to mother she would go. -She put that in her mind before mother went out. I knew it was all up -then. Jean will always get what she wants, all her life, and I shall -have to back out. Just because I can't play sonatas without mistakes -they think I cannot do anything." - -Elma found Betty's shoulder very comforting. - -A remark of Adelaide Maud's rankled in Mr. Leighton's mind. He was not -altogether happy at having to act the dragon to Elma in any case. -Adelaide Maud had got him quietly by herself. - -"Don't let little Elma begin giving up things to those sisters of hers -too soon, Mr. Leighton. Unselfishness is all very well. But look at the -helpless thing it has made of Miss Grace." - -Then she relented at sight of his face. - -"I'm almost as disappointed as Elma, you see," she said radiantly. - -Mr. Leighton tried to put it out of his mind, but Elma, sobbing in her -bedroom, had at last reached a stage where she couldn't pretend that -nothing had hurt her, a stage where the feelings of other people might -be reckoned not to count at all. It was an unusual condition for her to -be in. She generally fought out her disappointments in secret. Her -father came to her finally, and began smoothing her hair in a sad sort -of way. - -"You aren't looking on your own father as your worst enemy?" he asked -her kindly. - -Elma's sobs stopped abruptly. - -"I was," she said abjectly. - -It was part of the sincerity of her nature that she immediately -recognized where the case against herself came in. - -"I'm sorry about Jean," said Mr. Leighton. "It didn't strike me at the -time that it would be such a treat to either of you, you see. And we -chose the one who seemed most fitted for going with Miss Grace." - -"Mabel might have gone," wailed Elma. - -Mabel! Not for a moment had the claims of Mabel been mentioned. Mr. -Leighton was completely puzzled. - -Elma in an honourable manner felt that probably she might be giving away -Mabel to an unseeing parent. Mabel wanted, oh very much, to stay at -home just then. - -"But of course Jean wanted to go," she said hurriedly. "more than Mabel -did." - -"Some day you will all have your turn," said Mr. Leighton consolingly. -"I know it's very dull being at home with your parents! Isn't it?" - -Elma laughed a little. - -"It isn't that," she said, "but it would be lovely--in a hotel--with a -maid, you know--of your own! Such fun--seeing the people. And Miss -Grace wanted me." - -Mr. Leighton stroked her hair. - -"I liked her wanting you. I shall never forget that," said he. - -"Oh!" Elma gave a little gulp of pleasure. This was worth a great -deal. There was really nothing on earth like being complimented by -one's father. She sidled on Mr. Leighton's knee and put her arms round -his neck. He still stroked her hair. - -"You must remember that it isn't only in hotels that you see life," he -said, "or on battle-fields that you fight battles. It's here at home, -where one apparently is only sheltered and dull. It's always easy to -get on for a day or two with new, or outside friends. But it's your own -people who count. Don't make it disagreeable for Jean to go with Miss -Grace." His voice came in the nature of a swift command. After all, -her mother and father had arranged it, and the consciousness came down -on her of how she slighted those two, dearer than any, in being so -rebellious. - -"I won't," said Elma. Quite a determined little line settled at her -quivering lips, "But I never felt so bad in my life." - -"Oh well, we shall see what can be done about that," said Mr. Leighton. -And it pleased him more than a battle-field of victories could have done -to see Elma come into her own again. - -"Do you think you could try the Moonlight Sonata now?" he asked -abruptly, looking at his watch. - -It was his hobby that he must keep at least one girl at the piano in the -evenings. - -"Not without a lot of mistakes," said Elma. - -But she played better that night than she had ever done. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - Compensations - - -Miss Grace brought home a delicate silver purse and a silver chain set -with torquoise matrix from Buxton for Elma. - -Mr. Leighton shook his head over the pretty gift. - -"Bribery and corruption," said he. - -But by that time Elma's soul had soared far above the heights or depths -of triumph or pettiness in connection with the sojourn of Miss Grace. -Life had been moving swiftly and wonderfully. Jean indeed came home -from hotel life, full of stories of its inimitable attractions; and -nobody, although longing to be, had really been much impressed. Jean -served to mark the milestone of their own development, that was all. -She had left at one stage and come back at another. Where she had -imagined their standing quite still, they had been travelling new roads, -looking back on their childish selves with interest. - -Mabel and Elma had been thrown much together, and Mabel had grown to -depend on the silent loyalty with which Elma invariably supported her in -the trying time now experienced in connection with Mr. Meredith. Where -Jean, bolt outright, complained that already Mabel had known him for a -month or two, and yet no hint of an engagement could be discovered, Elma -sympathized with Mabel's horror of any engagement whatever. - -"It would be lovely to have a ring, and all that kind of thing," Mabel -had confided. "But fancy having to talk to papa and mamma about it!" - -It did not impede her friendship with Mr. Meredith however. He had -found a flower which he intended to pluck, and he guarded it to all -intents and purposes as one from which he would warn off intruders. But -the reserve which made Mabel sensitive in regard to anything definite, -her extreme youth, above all the constant espionage of her parents and -sisters, led him to a tacit understanding of his privileges, a situation -appalling to the business-like Jean. - -"If I had had my hair up, I should have had two proposals at Buxton," -said she, and the remark became historic. - -Cuthbert put it in his notebook. Whenever he wanted to overcome the -authority of Jean he produced and read it. She found her family a -trifle trying on her arrival. She wanted to be able to inform them how -they should dress, and had a score of other things ready to retail to -them. Yet most of them fell quite flat, just as though she had had no -special advantages in being at Buxton. - -Mr. and Mrs. Leighton talked this over together. - -"It makes me think," said Mrs. Leighton, "that you are not altogether -wrong in crowding them up at home here. Jean got variety, but she seems -to have lost a little in balance." - -"Still, that is just where experience teaches its lesson," said Mr. -Leighton. "To get balance, one must have the experience. Yet Mabel, in -an unaccountable manner, seems to be perfectly balanced before she has -received any experience at all." - -"Ah! I expect she will still have her experiences," said Mrs. Leighton -in her pessimistic way. "No girl gets along without some unpleasant -surprise. Betty is longing for one. Betty complains that in story -books something tragic or something wonderful happens to girls whenever -they begin to grow up, but that nothing happens in this place. Nobody -loses money--if you please--and nobody gets thrown out on the world in a -pathetic manner to work for a living, for instance." - -"Do they want to work for their living?" - -"They do want to be sensational," said Mrs. Leighton with a sigh, "and -as Elma says, 'We are neither rich enough nor poor enough for that.'" - -"Thank providence," said Mr. Leighton. - -His girls were much more of a problem to him than the direct Cuthbert, -who had shown a capacity for going his own way rather magnificently from -the moment he had left school. Mr. Leighton was determined to give his -girls an object in life, besides the ordinary one of getting married. -"There is great solace in the arts," he had often affirmed, making it -seem impossible that a girl should look on the arts as ends in -themselves, as a man would. "A girl must be trained to interruptions," -he used to declare. He made rather a drudge of their music in -consequence of these theories in connection with a career, but the hard -taskmaster in that direction opened a willing indulgence in almost any -other. It alarmed him when Mr. Meredith appeared so conspicuously on -the scene, when Mr. Meredith's sister called and invited Mabel to dine, -when invitations crossed, until the Merediths and themselves became very -very intimate. Elma had the wonderful pleasure of being allowed to -accompany Mabel. In the absence of Jean, she fulfilled that sisterly -position in a loyal way, loving the exaltation of going out with Mabel, -becoming very fond of the Merediths in the process. They had only -recently come from town to live near the Gardiners, and the whole place -did its duty in calling on them. There were only Mr. Meredith and his -sister, and both were of the intensely interesting order rather than of -the frank and lively nature of the like of the Leightons. Mr. Meredith -sang, and Miss Meredith's first words to Mabel were to the effect that -he no longer wanted his sister to play for him after having had the -experience of Mabel as an accompanist. - -"Aren't you glad papa made us musical?" asked Betty of Mabel after that -compliment. - -Mabel was glad in more ways than one. But it seemed a little hard that -just then Mr. Leighton should insist on her going in for a trying -examination in the spring. - -"When she ought to be getting the 'bottom drawer' ready," complained -poor Jean. - -Nothing moved for Jean in the family just as she expected. She began to -wonder whether she shouldn't go out as a governess. _Jane Eyre_ had -always enthralled her. It was one way of seeing life, to be very -down-trodden, and then marry the magnificent over-bearing hero. - -As a companion to Miss Grace, she had been a great success. Indeed, -even Adelaide Maud was bound to confess that Jean had been just the -person to go with Miss Grace. Jean, in spite of her Jane Eyre theories, -was so down on self-effacement. Her frank direct ways were the best -tonic for a lady who had never at any time been courageous. Miss Grace -wrote continually to Elma, "Jean has been very good in doing this--or -that," until Elma, swallowing hard lumps of mortification, had at last -to believe that she never could have done these determined, cool-hearted -things for Miss Grace in the same capable manner. She often wondered -besides whether, even to have had the delight of being at Buxton, she -could have dropped the glamour of finding a new sister in Mabel, and of -being the daily companion of Adelaide Maud. For the time had now come, -when, on being shown into Miss Annie's drawing-room, her duke, -clean-shaven and of modern manners, had ceased to be really diverting, -and in fact often forgot to attend to her in the pause when she awaited -the coming of Adelaide Maud. - -Adelaide Maud kept her word. She reigned as vice-queen over Miss -Annie's household, indulging that lady in all her little whims, for Miss -Grace's sake, and never omitted a single day for calling and seeing that -Miss Annie was comfortable. Adelaide Maud had theories of her own. She -said that every one in Ridgetown attended to the poor, but that she -believed in attending to the rich. - -"Now who would ever have looked after Miss Grace if we hadn't?" she -asked Elma. - -Mrs. Dudgeon imagined she had other reasons for being so devoted to Miss -Annie, and considered that Helen wasted her time in applying so much of -it to a bedridden invalid. - -"Whom do you see there?" she asked stonily. - -"Principally Saunders," said Helen, whose good temper was unassailable. -"Saunders is a duck." - -The "duck," however, was a trifle worried with these changes, "not -having been accustomed to sich for nigh on twenty-five years, mum," as -he explained to Mrs. Leighton. - -But the great boon lay in the restored health of Miss Grace. She came -home shyly as ever, but with a fresh bloom on her face. What withered -hopes that trip recalled to life, what memories of sacrificial days gone -by, what fears laid past--who knows! She was very gentle with Miss -Annie, and boasted of none of her late advantages as Jean did. Indeed, -one might have thought that the events of the world had as usual taken -place in Miss Annie's bedroom. But, with a courage born of new health -and better spirits. Miss Grace called one day on Dr. Merryweather. In -a graceful manner, as though the event had only occurred, she apologized -to him for the slight offered by Miss Annie. - -"I hope you know that you still have our supreme confidence," she said. -"It was your kind interest which persuaded me to go to Buxton." - -Dr. Merryweather seemed much affected. He shook her hand several times, -but his voice remained gruff as she had always remembered and slightly -feared it. - -"You must be exceedingly careful of yourself, Miss Grace," he said -bluntly, "Miss Annie has had too much of you." - -Too much of her. Ah, well, she could never reproach herself for having -spared an inch of her patience, an atom of her slender strength. - -"Remember," said Dr. Merryweather, "courage does not all lie in -self-sacrifice, though"--and he looked long at the kind beautiful eyes -of Miss Grace--"a great deal of it is invested there." - -He held her hand warmly for a second again, and that was the end of it. -Miss Grace went home fortified to a second edition of her life with Miss -Annie. - -Adelaide Maud gave up her semi-suzerainty over the masterful Saunders -with some real regret. It was fun for her to be engaged in anything -which did not entail mere social engagements. Miss Annie liked her -thoroughly, liked the swirl of her tweed skirts, the daintiness of her -silk blouses, the gleam of her golden hair. Adelaide Maud had straight -fine features, pretty mauve eyes ("They are mauve, my dear, no other -word describes them," she declared), very clearly arched eyebrows, and -"far too determined a chin." "Where did you get your chin?" asked Miss -Annie continually. - -"My father had the face of an angel. It wasn't from him," said Adelaide -Maud. "I have my mother to thank for my chin." - -"Well, Heaven help the man who tries to cross you, my dear," said Miss -Annie, who had a very capable chin of her own, as it happened. The -tired petulant look of the invalid only showed at the droop to the -corners of her mouth. - -Elma could no longer interest Adelaide Maud in Cuthbert. It seemed as -though he had no further existence. Until one day when she told her -that Cuthbert had an appointment which would last throughout the summer, -and keep him tied to town. Then the chin of Adelaide Maud seemed to -resolve itself into less chilly lines. - -"Oh, won't you miss him?" she suddenly asked. - -Adelaide Maud was the most comprehending person. She pulled Elma to her -and kissed her when Elma said that it wasn't "missing," it simply wasn't -"living" without Cuthbert. - -"I'm so sorry you quarrelled with him," she said to Adelaide Maud. - -Adelaide Maud grew stonily angry. - -"Quarrel with him?" she asked. - -It reminded Elma of the Dudgeon's first call - -"Oh, please don't," she cried in alarm. - -"Then I won't," said Adelaide Maud, "but will you kindly inform me when -I quarrelled with your brother Cuthbert." - -It was exactly in the tone of one who would never think of quarrelling -with the Leighton set. Elma grew quite pale, then her courage rose. - -"He thinks such a lot of you, and you don't think anything of him. Just -as though we weren't good enough!" - -"Oh, Elma," said Adelaide Maud. - -"And he likes you, and keeps things you drop, and you won't even speak -to him." - -"Keeps things I drop!" - -The murder was out. - -"Oh, I promised not to tell, how awful." - -Adelaide Maud grew very dignified. - -"What did I drop? Oh! I think I remember--my handkerchief!" - -Mrs. Dudgeon had reflected openly on the fact that it had never been -returned to Helen. - -"I wanted to keep it till we saw you again, but he said he would give it -to you when you were nice to him, or something like that." - -"Till I was nice to him!" The chin dimpled a trifle. - -"Somehow, I would rather he kept it," said Adelaide Maud dreamily. - -"Shall I tell him that?" asked Elma anxiously. - -"Tell him--what nonsense! You mustn't tell him a syllable. You mustn't -say you've told me. It would be so ignominious for him to hear that I -knew he had been thieving! Thieving is the word," said Adelaide Maud. -Although she talked in a very accusing manner, her voice seemed kind. - -"Mayn't I tell him you didn't mean to quarrel?" asked Elma anxiously. -"You don't know what you are to all of us." - -Here she sighed deeply. - -"No," said Adelaide Maud, "you mustn't tell him anything. I think he -must just wait as he suggested, until I am nice to him." - -"Until you deserved it, he said," cried Elma, triumphantly, remembering -properly at last. "I knew it was something like that." - -"Then he may wait until he is a hundred," said Adelaide Maud with her -face in a flame. - -It was difficult after this ever to talk to Adelaide Maud about Cuthbert -with any kind of freedom or pleasure. - -Elma went home that evening in the bewilderment of an early sunset. -Bright rays turned the earth golden, the leaves on the trees laid -themselves flat in heavy blobs of green in yellow sunlight, the sky -faded to a glimmering blue in the furthermost east. A shower of rain -fell from a drifting cloud and the drops hit in large splotches, first -on Elma's hat, on her hand, and then in an indefinite manner stopped. -As she turned into her own garden, the White House seemed flooded in a -golden glow of colour. - -Then at last they heard thunder in the distance. - -Elma never forgot that shining picture, nor the thunder in the distance. -It seemed the picture of what life might be, beautiful and safe in one's -own home, thunder only in the distance. The threatening did not alarm -her, but the remembrance of it always remained with her. When thunder -really began to peal for the Leighton family, she tried to be thankful -for the picture of gold. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - The Split Infinitive - - -Guests at the Leightons' were divided into two classes. There were those -who were friends of Mr. Leighton, and who therefore were interested in -art, or literature, or science, or public enterprise, but were not -expected to go further; and there were those who came in a general way -and who might be expected to be interested in anything from a game of -tennis to a tea party. Of the first might be reckoned the like of Mr. -Sturgis, who painted pictures in a magnificent manner, and who, at the -end of a large cigar, would breathe the heresies on the teaching of art -which for ever paralyzed the artistic abilities of Elma. Mr. Sturgis -was quite young enough for an Aunt Katharine public to quote his -eligibility on all occasions. - -"You don't understand, Aunt Katharine," Mabel told her once. "Nobody -seems to understand that a man, even a young man, may adore papa without -having to adore us at the same time. Mr. Sturgis is quite different -from your kind of young man." - -"Different from Robin, I suppose," sighed Aunt Katharine. - -"Yes, quite different from Robin," said Mabel sedately. Robin had -certainly from the first put Mr. Leighton into the position of being his -daughter's father. Mr. Sturgis, on the other hand, found his first -friend in Mr. Leighton because he had such a nice discriminating and -most sympathetic enthusiasm for Art. Besides which Mr. Leighton had the -attributes of an exceptional man in various respects. - -The girls put Mr. Sturgis on the same high plane as their father and -admired him openly accordingly. But there were others whom they put on -this plane by reason of their accomplishments and yet did not admire at -all. - -Amongst these was the "Split Infinitive." - -The first call on the part of Professor Theo. Clutterbuck was one never -to be forgotten. He found a roomful of people who, so far as his own -attitude to them was concerned, might have been so many pieces of -furniture. Mr. Sturgis had at least the artist's discrimination which -made him observe one's appearance, and he also allowed one to converse -occasionally; but Dr. Clutterbuck rushed his one subject at Mr. Leighton -from the moment of his entrance, and after that no one else existed. - -"What more or less could you expect from the father of the Serpent?" -asked Betty. - -Lance was responsible for the nickname. - -The Serpent, the elf-like daughter of the Professor, staying next to the -Turbervilles, had introduced herself in a violent manner long ago to -Betty and Elma. Sitting one day, hidden high in the maple tree, she -cajoled her cat silently over the Turberville wall and from a wide -branch sent him sprawling on a tea table. From the moment that the black -cat drew a white paw from the cream jug, and a withering giggle from the -maple tree disclosed the wicked little visage of the Serpent, war had -been declared between the Clutterbucks and the Turbervilles. Lance -occasionally removed the barrier and met the Professor in company with -his own father. - -"An awful crew," his verdict ran. "The Past Participle (Mrs. -Clutterbuck) can't open her poor little timid mouth but the Split -Infinitive is roaring at her. Consequently she keeps as silent as the -grave." - -"Will you kindly explain?" said Mrs. Leighton patiently. "It's a long -time since I studied grammar in that intimate way. What is the Split -Infinitive and why the Past Participle?" - -"It's like this, Mrs. Leighton, simple when you know--or when you are -married to a brute like Clutterbuck," said Lance mischievously. "I beg -your pardon. I know I ought to say that he is a genius and all that sort -of thing. But 'brute' seems more explicit." - -"Go on with your story," said Mrs. Leighton. - -"Well--Clutterbuck married Mrs. Clutterbuck." - -"That's generally the end of a story, isn't it?" asked Jean. - -Lance was not to be interrupted. - -"Trust a boy for gossip," exclaimed Betty. "Fire away, Lance." - -"My aunt knew them," said Lance. "She, Mrs. C., was a little dear, -awfully pink and pretty you know, and Clutterbuck, a big raw thin thing -with wild sort of hair and dreamy manners. Well, they were awfully -proud and pleased with themselves, and started off for their honeymoon -like two happy babies." - -"Will you kindly tell me how you knew this?" asked Mrs. Leighton -helplessly. - -"I heard my aunt telling my mother," said Lance. - -"There's a gleam in your eye which I don't quite trust," Elma remarked -sedately. "Go on." - -"Everything went well," exclaimed Lance, "until one morning when Mrs. -C., all rosy and chiffony you know, said 'My dear Theo, I don't remember -to ever have been so happy.' Clutterbuck rose from the table, as pale -as death. She cried, 'Theo, Theo, tell me, what is wrong?' 'Wrong,' -cried Professor Clutterbuck, 'you have used the Split Infinitive!' -Gospel, Mrs. Leighton," said Lance as a wind-up. "She's been the Past -Participle ever since." - -There was this amount of truth in Lance's story: that Dr. Clutterbuck -was distinguished in his own career as Professor of Geology, that his -English was irreproachable; and that Mrs. Clutterbuck had practically no -English, since she was hardly ever known to speak at all. She shunned -society; and the same introspective gaze of the Professor, which had -skimmed the Leighton drawing-room and found there only the striking -personality of Mr. Leighton, skimmed his own home in a like abstracted -manner, and took no notice of the most striking personality in -Ridgetown--Elsie, his daughter. - -It was the black cat episode which precipitated the nickname of "The -Serpent." Lance had always declared that this girl had an understanding -with animals which was nothing short of uncanny. He happened to read -_Elsie Venner_, and the names being alike, and temperament on similar -lines, he immediately christened her the Serpent. He caught her out at -numberless pranks which were never reported to the diligent ears of -Betty and May. One was that she had climbed to his bedroom and -purloined a suit of clothes. - -There was no end to what might be expected of this lonely little person. - -Years ago, Betty and May had turned their backs on her in the cruel -haphazard manner of two friends who might easily dispose of an outsider. -Betty and May despised the Serpent because she "had a cheap governess," -"couldn't afford to go to school," and "wore her hair in one plait." - -The lonely little Serpent never properly forgave these insults. - -Mrs. Leighton did not wholly encourage Lance in his tale. - -"I do not think I approve of your being so down on these people," she -said: "and if there is any truth in what you say, it is very tragic -about poor Mrs. Clutterbuck, though she does not strike me as being a -very capable person." - -"Capable," asked Lance. "Who could remain capable, Mrs. Leighton, with -a cold tap continually running freezing remarks down one's back. Don't -you think it's a miracle she's alive?" - -Mrs. Leighton preferred to remain on her smooth course of counsel. - -"It never does to judge people like that," she exclaimed. "You do not -know. To put it in a selfish manner, one day you may find the -Clutterbucks being of more service to you than any one on earth." - -She pulled at her knitting ball. - -"You girls talk a great deal of romance and nonsense about people like -the Dudgeons. Why don't you think something nice about that poor little -Serpent for a change?" - -The girls remembered not very long afterwards the prophetic nature of -these remarks. That they should cultivate the Clutterbucks for any -reason at all, however, seemed at that moment impossible. - -Dr. Merryweather called the same afternoon. - -It was one of the coincidences of life that he should immediately talk -of the Clutterbucks. - -"Know them?" he asked. "I think your husband does, doesn't he? Do you -call on the wife at all?" - -"No," answered Mrs. Leighton. "I never feel that I could get on with -her very well either. Mr. Leighton meets the Professor and they talk a -lot together, but it's quite away from domestic matters." - -"It would be a bit of a kindness, I think," said the old Doctor, "your -calling, I mean. There's too little public spirit amongst women, don't -you think?" - -"Oh, wouldn't it be a little impertinent perhaps to call, in that -spirit?" asked Mrs. Leighton. - -"Well, I don't know. The child is running wild. The parents are a pair -of babies where healthy education is concerned. Result, the child has -no friends, and expends her affection, she has stores of it, on her -animals. A dog gets run over and dies. What do you get then? She -never squeaks. Not a moan, you observe. But she sits up in that tree -of hers with a cat to do any comforting she may want--and her hair -begins to come out in patches." - -Mrs. Leighton's knitting fell to her lap. - -"Her hair is coming out in patches?" she asked in a horrified voice. - -"Yes. What else would you have when a child is allowed to mope. -Something is bound to happen. Clergymen are of use when a child's -naughty. But when it mopes itself ill, we are called in. Yet it's a -clergyman's task after all. This child, on the way to being a woman, -has never had one friend. Her mother is too timid to be really friendly -with any one, and the husband is wrapped in his dry-as-dust -philosophy--and where are you with a tender child like that?" - -"But if Mrs. Clutterbuck can't be friendly with any one, why should I -call?" asked Mrs. Leighton hopelessly. - -"Your girls might become friendly with the child," said he. "I'm afraid -I don't make a very good clergyman." - -"They call her the Serpent, you know," said Mrs. Leighton, "very naughty -of them. I shall do my best, Doctor. I didn't know her hair was coming -out in patches." - -Dr. Merryweather might be complimented on his new profession after all. -It had been a master stroke to refer to the patches. Mrs. Leighton had -known of its happening after illness or great worry. That a child -should suffer in this quiet moping manner seemed pathetic. - -"Yet, I don't think I'm the person to do a thing of this sort," Mrs. -Leighton said hopelessly to Miss Meredith later in the day. "I do so -object to intrude on people. I should imagine it indelicate of any one -else to do the same to myself, you know." - -"Very awkward, certainly," replied Miss Meredith primly. - -"Oh, mummy," said Elma, "you know how kind Miss Grace is or Miss Annie. -They say 'Isn't Betty a little pale at present?' and you get her a -tonic. You think nothing of that. It's just the same with the -Clutterbucks. Betty ought to behave herself and go and call with you, -and get the Serpent to come. I think she looks a jolly little thing." - -Elma was quite alone in that opinion. - -"Jolly!" said Jean, "you might as well talk of a toadstool's being -jolly. Still, Betty isn't a child. She shouldn't be squabbling. Betty -ought to call." - -"You know Dr. Clutterbuck, wouldn't you call on his wife?" asked Mrs. -Leighton of Miss Meredith. - -"Oh, I'm afraid I don't know him well enough. Robin rather dislikes -him--and, well, we have no young people, you see." - -Miss Meredith was lame but definite. - -"Then the sooner the better. Betty and I call to-morrow," said Mrs. -Leighton. - -They did, and to their astonishment found Mrs. Clutterbuck dimly but -surely pleased. Nobody remained timid very long in Mrs. Leighton's kind -presence, and the mutual subject of days long ago when it was no crime -to talk of babies, broke the ice of years of reserve in Ridgetown with -Mrs. Clutterbuck. The Serpent, after many pilgrimages on the part of -the one maid to the garden, finally appeared. Mrs. Clutterbuck's -restraint returned with the evident unwillingness of Elsie's attitude. -Both retreated to the dumb condition so trying to onlookers. - -The Serpent indeed paid Betty out for many months of torture. Her calm, -disconcerting gaze never wavered, as she watched every movement of that -ready enemy. Mrs. Leighton made her only mistake in showing definitely -that she wanted to be kind to Elsie. That little lady's pale visage -looked fiercely out at her and chilled the words that were intended to -come. - -It was as Betty described it a most "terrifying interview." - -In the midst of it came a telegram to Mrs. Clutterbuck. - -"Oh, you will excuse me," said she nervously. "We are expecting a -friend." - -During the interval of opening the envelope Elsie disappeared. It had -the effect of warming Mrs. Clutterbuck to confidences once more. - -"It is a great pleasure to me," said she. "My young cousin is coming. -He is quite a distinguished, man. All Dr. Clutterbuck's people are -distinguished, but my family are different. Except Arthur, whom Dr. -Clutterbuck is quite pleased to meet. He is coming to-night." - -She called the maid. - -"Tell Miss Elsie it is the 5.40 train. Mr. Symington comes then." - -She had a halting, staccato way of picking her small sentences, as -though insecure of their effect. - -"People enjoy coming to Ridgetown," said Mrs. Leighton lamely, in the -endeavour to keep the wheels of conversation oiled more securely. - -"Do they," asked the Professor's wife. Then she stammered a trifle. -"A--a--that is--I have never had a visitor in Ridgetown till now. Dr. -Clutterbuck does not care for visitors. Arthur is different from what -others have been, I hope." - -She seemed full of anxiety. - -"Oh, I gave up long ago trying to please Mr. Leighton with my visitors," -said Mrs. Leighton heartily and quite untruthfully. "Husbands must take -their chance of that, you know." She rose to go. - -"Please tell Dr. Clutterbuck he is never again to come to see us without -you," she said, "and won't Elsie come to tea one day?" - -On their departure Mrs. Clutterbuck turned to find a blazing little fury -in the doorway. - -"Mother," cried Elsie, "Mother! How could you! I shall never go to tea -with Betty Leighton." - -Her mother turned two eyes full of light on her. The light slowly died -to dull patience again. - -"We shall go down together to meet cousin Arthur," she said quietly. It -seemed as though her bright thoughts must turn to drab colour -automatically where either her husband or child was concerned. - -It was characteristic of Elsie that, although blazing with wild anger -and wicked little intentions, she should be unable to give voice to them -at that moment. The inevitable obstinacy of her mother where the -routine of the house was concerned, the drab colour of the one day which -was invariably like the other, the cruel, cruel sameness of it all! It -was impossible that Cousin Arthur should not be drab colour also. - -"I'd rather remain here," she said at last. There was even some -pleading in her tone. - -"Your father said we had better meet Cousin Arthur," said her mother. - -That was the remorseless end and beginning to everything. "Your father -said" meant days and weeks and years of drab colour. - -"Oh, let us go then," said Elsie. There was a drowning hopelessness in -her voice, so great an emptiness that it was hard to believe she had -merely used the words--"Let us go then." - -Her mother accepted the answer without the sigh which burned in her -heart because it had no outlet. - -They proceeded to get ready to go out. - -Mrs. Leighton and Betty by this time were chatting easily enough at the -Merediths'. Mrs. Leighton had the feeling of an inexperienced general -after a very indefinite victory. - -"I do not possess the talent of inflicting myself gracefully on people," -she said, "and the child is quite extraordinary. However, I liked the -mother; she is a dear little woman." - -Miss Meredith was only partially interested. - -She arranged to walk home with them, and they set out in rather a slow -manner. - -"I can quite believe the child would be different in other -surroundings," said Mrs. Leighton. "What a fine-looking man!" The one -remark ran into the other automatically. In later days it seemed -prophetic that the two people should be mentioned in one breath. - -Mrs. Leighton was passing the station where arrivals from the train -occurred. A cab was drawn up, and into this a sunburned, -athletic-looking young man put some traps. Then he handed in Mrs. -Clutterbuck and Elsie. - -Betty was greatly impressed. - -"It must be Mr. Symington," said she. - -"Well, for a timid lady, she has a very man-like cousin," exclaimed Mrs. -Leighton. "I don't wonder she was allowed that one visitor at least." - -Miss Meredith turned her head carefully to a more slanting angle, when -she clearly saw the carriage drive past. - -"Do you know, Mrs. Leighton," she said quite nimbly and happily, "it -seems very hard that she should not have all the visitors she wants. -Dr. Merryweather is quite right. None of us have any public spirit. I -think I shall call on her to-morrow." - -So Miss Meredith also called on Mrs. Clutterbuck. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - The Burglar - - -That Miss Meredith should turn in a moment from being freezingly -uninterested in the Professor's wife, to being more friendly than any -one else, seemed from one point of view very noble and distinguished, -from another puzzling and peculiar. - -"It's a little dis-disconcerting," said Elma at Miss Grace's. "We were -so pleased at first when Miss Meredith pointed out our talents to us. -Now she is pointing out Mrs. Clutterbuck's. And you know, last week, we -didn't think Mrs. Clutterbuck had any talents at all." - -"Ah--that is one of our little tragedies," said Miss Grace simply. -"That we are obliged to outlive the extravagance of new friends." - -"Do you think Miss Meredith won't keep it up where we are concerned?" -asked Elma anxiously. "It would be a little sad if she didn't, wouldn't -it? Like deceiving us to begin with; and now she may be deceiving Mrs. -Clutterbuck." - -"Oh, I don't know. She may work wonders with the Professor. It must be -pure goodness that prompts her, dear." - -"She must be used to being taken coldly," said Elma. "The Professor -glares at her, and Elsie charges straight out to the back garden every -time she calls." - -"Is Mr. Symington there now?" asked Miss Grace. - -"No, he left in two days. Papa was charmed with him. He and the -Professor and papa had an evening together when we were all at the -Gardiners, and Mrs. Clutterbuck came too. Papa says Mr. Symington will -make a name for himself one day. He is coming back to Ridgetown for a -summer, some time soon, he liked it so much." - -If only for the sudden interest taken by the Merediths in the -Clutterbucks, it seemed necessary that they should become very much a -part of the Leightons' life just then. But nothing could thaw the -demeanour of Elsie. Dr. Merryweather found her improved slightly, but -there were signs that she fretted inordinately. Nothing she did was what -other girls did, and she was quite beyond the abstracted influences of -her parents. - -Adelaide Maud met the Professor. - -"I hear you have a perfect little duck of a daughter," said she airily. - -"Ha, hm," exclaimed the Professor, quite irresponsible in the matter of -English for the moment. He had no real words for such a situation. - -"Aren't you awfully proud of her?" asked Adelaide Maud. - -The Professor recovered. That word "awfully!" It made him forget this -new version of his daughter. - -"So you are also in this conspiracy," whispered Lance afterwards to -Adelaide Maud. "It's no good. A bomb under that fanatic is all that -will move him." - -But in the meantime Elsie made some moves for herself. - -The Leightons were interested in their own affairs. Cuthbert was away, -and Mr. Leighton had to make a run to London. He took Mabel with him -and that occurrence was exciting enough in itself. As though to show up -the helplessness of a family left without a man in the house, however, -one night the maids roused every one in alarm. A burglar, it seems, was -trying to get in at the pantry window. The girls, who were getting -ready for bed, went quaking to their mother's room. Very frightened and -most carefully they made their way to the vicinity of the pantry. There -was certainly to be heard a faint shuffling. - -"See'd him as plain as day, Miss, leaning up against the window. He -moved some flower pots, and stood on 'em." - -"Lock the kitchen door, telephone for the police, and light the gas," -said Jean in a strained whisper. - -She immediately obeyed her own orders by telephoning herself in a quick -deep undertone, "Man at the pantry window trying to get in." - -Then she took the taper from the shaking hands of Betty. - -"I've read in _Home Notes_ or somewhere that when burglars appear, if -you light up they get frightened and go away." - -They had roused Aunt Katharine who had come as company for a night or -two and had gone to bed at half-past nine. - -"What's the good of frightening them if you've sent for the police?" -asked Aunt Katharine. "Better let them get caught red-handed." She -invariably objected to being roused from her first sleep. - -"Oh goodness," wailed Betty. "It sounds like murder." She felt quite -thrilled. - -The maids cowered shivering in the passage. - -"I heard them flower pots again, Miss. 'E's either got in or--'e's----" - -They distinctly heard the pantry window move. - -"Well, the door between is locked," said the quiet voice of Mrs. -Leighton, "and the police ought to be here very soon now." - -Jean took the curlers out of her hair. - -"I wish they would hurry up," said she. - -Elma got under Aunt Katharine's eiderdown. - -"I may as well die warm," she remarked with her teeth chattering. - -There was not much inclination to jokes however, and Elma's speech was -touched with a certain abandonment of fear. The situation was very -trying. When the police did arrive and ran at a quick, stealthy run to -the pantry window, they waited in terror for the expected shuffle and -outcry. - -"It's really awful," whispered Betty, clinging in despair to her mother. - -"I can't think why they are so quiet," said Mrs. Leighton. "I think I -must open the kitchen door." - -"Oh, ma'am, please, ma'am." Cook at last became hysterical. "Don't -move that door, ma'am; we've had scare enough. Let 'em catch 'em -themselves." - -Betty sat down on the stairs and leant her head on her hands. - -"They must be arresting them," she said, "with handcuffs. And papa said -they always have to read over the charge. They must be reading over the -charge now, I think." - -"In the dark!" said Aunt Katharine with a certain eloquent sniff. - -"They have lanterns, dark lanterns. Isn't it beautiful?" said Betty. - -She rose in her white dressing-gown. - -"Listen," said she. - -The door-bell suddenly clanged. Every one screamed except Mrs. -Leighton. - -"I do wish you would keep quiet," said she. "The police will think we -are being murdered." She moved to the door. But again she was arrested -by piercing directions. - -"Talk to them at the window, mummy. They might be the burglars -themselves. How are we to know? Do talk at the window." - -"I'm extremely cold," said Mrs. Leighton, "and I'd rather ask them in -whoever they are, than talk to them at an open window." - -By the time she had finished, however, Jean, the valiant, had the window -open and had discovered a policeman. They had "scoured the premises," -he said, and no thief was to be found. Mrs. Leighton wrapped herself in -an eiderdown quilt. - -"Will you come in, please, and open my kitchen door? Cook thinks they -may be there," she said. - -With deep thankfulness they let in the policeman. A sergeant appeared. -He was very sympathetic and reassuring. "Best not to proceed too -quickly," he said in a fat, slow way. "I have a man still outside -watching. So if 'e's 'ere, Miss, we'll catch 'im either way. A grand -thing the telephone." - -He unlocked the door, and thoroughly investigated the kitchen. - -"No signs," said he, "no signs." - -The Leightons recovered some of their lost dignity and crowded in. Only -Jean however had the satisfaction of hair in order and curlers -discarded. How brave of Jean to remember at that dreadful moment of -burglars in the house! - -The sergeant had gas lighted and looked extremely puzzled. - -"'E 's been 'ere right enough," said he. "Window open right enough. -Was it fastened?" - -He turned about, but the chief evidence had departed. With the advent of -the policeman, cook and retinue had suddenly remembered their costumes. -Like rabbits they had scuttled, first into the larder for cover, then -into their own rooms, where they donned costumes more suitable for such -impressive visitors. Mrs. Leighton's eye twinkled when she found cook -appear in hastily found dress. - -"Did you leave the window unfastened, cook?" she asked. - -Cook was sure. "It was a thing as 'ow I never forgot, ma'am, but this -one night----" - -Well, there seemed to be some uncertainty. - -Elma's eyes during this were straying continually to a piece of -notepaper lying on a table. First she thought, "It is some letter -belonging to the maids." Then an impelling idea that the white paper -had some other meaning forced her to pick it up. Every other person was -engaged in watching the search of the sergeant and listening to his -words. - -"Some one has been right in this 'ere kitchen. It's the doors and -windows unlatched that do it. Many a time since I've been here as -sergeant, I've said to myself, 'We'll 'ave trouble yet over these -unlatched windows.'" - -"We have been so safe," complained Mrs. Leighton. "The poor people here -too--so respectable and hard-working!" - -"Drink, ma'am, drink," said the sergeant dismally, "you never know what -it will do to a man." - -He turned his lantern in his fat fingers. - -"Oh," said Aunt Katharine with a sudden gasp, "I could stand a plain -thief, hungry, may be, but master of himself. But a drunk man--it's -dreadful." - -She shivered and looked into corners as though one of the thieves might -be asleep there. The sergeant and his companion made a thorough search -of the house. - -None of them noticed Elma who sat as though cast in an eternal shiver -and who surreptitiously read the scrap of notepaper. - -"The Trail." That was all that was written in words but nimbly drawn on -a turned back corner was a snaky, sinuous serpent. It had the eyes and -the accusing glare of the expression of Elsie. - -Elma wondered how far she might be right in keeping that document while -the fat sergeant followed up his cues, and described the burglar. He -was six feet at least it seemed, to have got in at the window where he -did. "Flower pots or no flower pots, no smaller man could have done -it." "Fool," thought Elma. "Elsie, who can climb a drain pipe, drop -from a balcony, skim walls. Elsie had a way of which he doesn't know." - -One thought that ran through her mind was the wickedness of any one's -having called Elsie by such a name as the Serpent, and the tragedy of -her having found it out. There was some excuse for this latest -wickedest prank of all. The daring of Elsie confused her. What girl -would be so devoid of fear as to move out at eleven at night and act the -burglar? None of their set had the pluck for it, to put it in the -baldest way. The idea that she might have been caught by the fat -sergeant appalled Elma. She saw the scornful, wilful eyes of the -Serpent dancing. Would she care? Yet she was the girl who had moped -for the death of her dog till "her hair came out in patches." - -She was still staring at the trail of the Serpent when the sergeant had -finished his "tour of safety." After all, it might not have been a -prank of Elsie's. It might have been a six-foot burglar. This accusing -serpent--well, one couldn't go on a thing of that sort. It would be so -amusing too that they were had practically out of bed in such a panic. -Aunt Katharine looked very worn and disturbed. She would never forgive -a practical joke. Elma held the paper tight, and down in her -sympathetic, plaintive little soul felt she could never accuse a fly, -far less a sensitive wicked little mischief like Elsie Clutterbuck. - -She could not help laughing at themselves. But after all, who was -looking after that wild child now? She nearly asked the sergeant to make -his way home by the side lane by which she now knew Elsie had come. Then -the certainty that this self-satisfied person with his six-foot burglar -would never make anything of this slippery fearless little elf burglar -kept her silent. - -The sergeant finished his tour with great impressiveness. They were -informed they might safely go to bed. A man or two would be about to see -that no one was hanging round at all. It was very ridiculous to Elma. -"After all," remarked the sergeant, "you are very early people. It is -only eleven o'clock now. Hardly the dead of night, ma'am!" - -"We are generally less early of course," said Mrs. Leighton, "but we -were alone to-night. Mr. Leighton and my son are away." - -"Ah, bad," remarked the sergeant. "It looks as though our friend had an -inkling to that effect." - -Elma thought the interview would never be over. - -It was best to say nothing, or Mrs. Leighton would have had the town -searched for Elsie. It was best in every way to crumple tight that -incriminating paper and wonder why in the wide world Elsie had done it. - -She met the Serpent the following day. There was an impish, happy look -of mischief on that usually savage little face. Miss Meredith had been -retailing to her mamma the terrific alarm which the Leightons had -experienced on the previous evening. She met Elma full face and the -smile on her lips died. - -"Why did you do it?" asked Elma bluntly as though she had known the -Serpent all her life. The Serpent glared blandly at Elma, then fiercely -resumed her ordinary pose. - -"You came to my house, or your mother did, to take me out of -myself--charity-child sort of visit, you know. I heard of that, never -mind how. I came to you to take you out of yourselves. I rather fancy -I did it--didn't I?" - -The ice of reserve had been broken at last and the Serpent was stinging -in earnest. - -Elma could only gaze at her. - -"You think I'm a kind of 'case,' I suppose. Some one to feel good and -generous over. Just because my hair is coming out in patches. Well, -it's stopped coming out in patches but I still have a few calls to pay." - -"Weren't you afraid last night?" asked Elma in complete wonder. - -They had moved into a shadow against the wall. - -"Afraid," blazed the Serpent, and then she trembled as though she would -fall. - -"Don't," cried Elma sharply, "don't faint." - -"I nearly did--last night. I nearly did. It was dreadful going home. -Who knows that it was I who was there?" - -"I do," said Elma, "that's all." - -"Don't tell a soul," wailed the burglar. "You won't, will you? I know -it was awful of me, but such fun up to the moment, when--when I heard -them moving inside. Then my legs grew so weak and it was like a dream -where you can't get away. You shouldn't have called me the Serpent." - -"We didn't," said Elma. "Not in the way you mean. But because you -seemed to know about animals in a queer way--like Elsie Venner. Lance -said she was half a snake, but just because she knew about snakes. It's -difficult to explain." - -"Lance?" asked the Serpent. - -"Yes, why don't you speak to Lance now and then?" - -"I pay him a higher compliment," said the queer little Serpent. "I wore -his clothes last night." - -"Oh," said Elma. "Oh! yet you could faint to-day--or nearly so." - -"Isn't it wicked," said the Serpent. "A boy wouldn't have given in. -They do much worse, and don't give way at the knees, you know. I only -opened the window and threw in the note. It was nothing. I meant you -just to be puzzled. I was there early and couldn't find a suitable -window or a door, so I waited till the maids went to bed. They left a -little window half open." - -"Mamma ought to dismiss cook," said Elma primly. - -It was a streak of the sunlight of confidence which did not illuminate -the Serpent again for many days to come. Elma, however, at the time, -and until she once more met the scornful glare of reserve habitual to -that person, felt as though she had found a friend. They said good-bye -in fairly jocular spirits, and Elma rushed home to give at least her -"all-to-be-depended-upon" mother the news. - -When she entered the drawing-room, however, Jean was describing the -burglary to a company of people. Little shrieks and "Ohs" and "Oh, -however did you do it?" "I should have died, really I should," were to -be heard. - -Jean's burglar was six feet two by this time and he had an "accomplice." - -Elma thought she would choose another occasion on which to give her news -to Mrs. Leighton. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - A Reconciliation - - -Mr. Leighton was very sympathetic over the burglar. He heard of the -occurrence in two ways, first in the fiery excited recital of Jean, and -then in confidence from Elma. Mrs. Leighton was there also. - -"Well, I never!" she said. "That poor little lonely soul stealing about -at night! it's dreadful." She never thought for a moment of how foolish -it made the rest of them seem. - -"She isn't at all afraid of the dark, or the woods, or storms, or -anything of that kind," said Elma. "She loves being out with her black -cat when it's pitch dark. But she's terrified now of policemen, and I -don't think she will ever call properly on us all her life. She's -perfectly savage with us." - -Mr. Leighton stroked his hair in a preoccupied manner. - -"One has to beware of what I should call professional goodness," he said -mildly. "It's pleasant, of course, to feel that one does a nice action -in being kind to the like of that stormy little person. But when she -detects the effort at kindliness! Well, one ought sometimes to think -that it must be humiliating to the needy to be palpably helped by the -prosperous. There are various kinds of wealth, not all of them meaning -money. This child has had no affection. Naturally she scorns a -charitable gift of it. It's almost a slight on her own parents, you -know." - -"There," said Mrs. Leighton in a dismal way, "I told Dr. Merryweather I -disliked intruding. It was an intrusion." - -"Oh, it will be all right," replied Mr. Leighton. "Don't plague the -child over this romp of being a burglar, that's all. And don't -patronize her," he said to Elma. "Give her a chance of conferring -something herself. It's sometimes a more dignified way of finding a -friend." - -Elma felt some of her high ideas of reclaiming the serpent topple. Miss -Grace had advised differently. "Be kind and helpful," she had declared. -Now her father seemed to think that it was the serpent's task to be the -generous supporting figure. It made Elma just a little wild with that -blazing little serpent Elsie. - -For a year and a half their friendship with the serpent existed over -crossed swords. She recovered in health, but the routine of her life -never wavered. The force of habit in connection with her mother, that -the Professor's tempestuous irritable habits should rule the house and -that she should be kept quaking in a silence which must not be broken, -could not be dispelled even by the diligent visits of Miss Meredith. -Adelaide Maud drew off after the first encounter with the Professor. -"I'm afraid that there will just have to be a tragic outburst every time -Mrs. Clutterbuck says 'a new pair of shoes' instead of 'a pair of new -shoes,'" said she, "nothing can save her now." - -Soon the efforts of Dr. Merryweather were forgotten in the impenetrable -attitude of the whole family. - -At the end of eighteen months, most of Ridgetown was collected one day -for a river regatta at a reach a few miles up from the town. Every one -of any consequence except Lance, as Betty put it, was present. They -rowed in boats and watched the races, picnicked and walked on the banks. -One wonderful occurrence was the presence of Mrs. Clutterbuck and the -Serpent. Mr. Symington had appeared once more and done something this -time to penetrate the aloofness of their existence. He had come once or -twice to the Leightons' with the Professor. - -The girls put this friend of their father's on a new plane. - -He could be engrossed in talk with their father and the Professor, and -yet not gaze past the rest of the family as though they were "guinea -pigs." - -They now knew Mr. Sturgis well enough to tell him that he thought -nothing more of them than that they were a land of decorative guinea -pig. Mr. Symington, however, who had not seen them grow out of the -childish stage, but had come on them one memorable evening when the -picture of them, for a new person, was really something rather -delightful to remember--Mr. Symington was immediately put on a pedestal -of a new order. The difference was explained to Robin, who growled -darkly. "It's perfectly charming to be received with deference by the -man who is splendid enough to be received with deference by our own -father," explained Jean. "Don't you see?" - -Robin saw in a savage manner. He had never been on this particular -pedestal. With all his sister's enthusiasm for Mr. Symington, he could -see little to like in that person. - -Mr. Symington studied in lonely parts of the world the wild life an -ordinary sportsman would bring down with his gun. He was manly, yet -learned. Delightfully young, yet stamped with the dignity of -experience. Robin in his presence felt a middle-aged oppression in -himself, which could not be explained by years. - -He was particularly galled by his sister's persistence in keeping near -the Clutterbuck party on the Saturday of the river regatta. - -There were exciting moments of boat races, duck races, swimming -competitions, and so forth. Then came the afternoon when everybody -picnicked. - -The Leightons had a crowd of friends with them, and took tea near the -pool by the weir. - -May undertook to teach Betty how to scull in an outrigger, which one of -the racers had left in their care for the moment. Betty was daring and -rather skilful to begin with. It seemed lamentable that with so many -looking on, she should suddenly catch a real crab. May, standing on the -bank, screamed to her, as Betty's frail little boat went swinging rather -wildly under the trees of an island. - -"Look here," cried Jean to May sharply. "What made you two begin -playing in such a dangerous part? Sit still," she shouted wildly to -Betty. - -It seemed as if no one had understood that there was any danger in these -little pranks of Betty's, till her boat was swept into mid-stream, and -ran hard into certain collision on the island. Jean called for some one -to take a boat out to Betty. Then the full danger of the situation -flashed on them. Just a few minutes before, a detachment had gone up to -the starting point, and no boat was left in which one might reach Betty. - -"Sit still," shouted Jean again, "hold on to the trees or something." - -It had occurred in a flash. Betty in the quiet water was all very well, -but Betty, the timid, out alone on a swirling river with a weir in the -very near distance, this Betty lost her head. - -Jean's scream, "Sit still," had the effect of frightening her more than -anything. "It was what one was advised to do when horses were running -off, or something particularly dreadful was about to happen," thought -Betty. - -She first lost an oar, then splashed herself wildly in the attempt to -recover it. The sudden rocking of her "shining little cockle shell," as -she had called it only a minute before, alarmed her more than anything. -She was being swept on the island, deep water everywhere around it. -With a gasp of fear she rose to catch the tree branches, missed, upset -the cockle shell at last, and fell into the river. - -Those on the bank, for a swift moment, "or was it for centuries," stood -paralysed. - -"Oh!" cried Jean, "oh!" - -There was a swift sudden rush behind them, "like a swallow diving -through a cornfield," said May later. A tense, victorious little figure, -flinging off hat and a garment of sorts; a splash; a dark head driving -in an incredibly swift way through water impatiently almost trodden upon -by two little wildly skimming hands, then a voice when Betty rose: "Lie -on your back, I'll be with you in a minute," and the valiant little -Serpent was off to the saving of Betty. It was sufficiently terrifying -on account of the weir. If Elsie reached Betty, would she have the -strength to bring her back. If Elsie did not reach Betty, Betty could -not swim. It was dreadful. Jean, second-rate swimmer as she was, would -have been in herself by this time, but that Elma held her. - -"She's got her," she whispered with a grey face. They shouted when the -Serpent turned slightly with Betty. She was like a fierce little -schoolmistress. "Don't interfere with me, he on your back. Keep lying -on your back," and Betty obeyed. At the supreme moment the Serpent had -come into her own, and displayed at last the talent which till then had -only been expended on her cats and dogs. "Lie still," she growled, and -obediently, almost trustingly, Betty lay like a little white-faced -drowned Ophelia. Then "Come along with that boat," sang out the Serpent -cheerily. - -Round the bend of the river above, at sound of their cries had come -"Hereward the Wake, oh how magnificent," sobbed Jean. It was Mr. -Symington. - -The Serpent, with hard serviceable little strokes, piloted Betty lightly -out of the strength of the current. Mr. Symington was past and gently -back to them before a minute had elapsed. - -"Grip the gunwale," he said cheerily to Elsie. It was the tone of a man -addressing his compatriot. - -(Oh! how magnificent of the Serpent.) - -"Now," he said. "Keep a tight hold on her still. I must get you into -quiet water." He pulled hard. Immediately he had them into the -backwater. It was rather splendid to see him get hold of a tree, tie -the boat, and be at the side of the Serpent before one could breathe. -He had rowed in with the full strength of a strong man, and in a minute -he was as tenderly raising Betty. He had never properly removed his -eyes from her face. "She was just faulting. You held on well," he said -approvingly. "Don't let her sisters see her at present." He lifted -Betty to the bank. - -"Quick, open your eyes," he said commandingly. - -"Look here," called the Serpent. She had scrambled neatly out by -herself, "Betty, Betty Leighton, oh! Betty, open your eyes." There was -an answering quiver. "Quick, Betty, before your sisters come. Don't -frighten them. Open your eyes, Betty." - -Mr. Symington rubbed Betty's hands smoothly in a quick experienced -manner. - -Betty opened her eyes and looked at the Serpent. - -"Oh, Elsie," she said, "Elsie, you sweet little Serpent!" It was an end -to the crossed swords feud. Elsie took her in her arms and cried. - -When the girls arrived panic-stricken they found Mr. Symington trying to -get a coherent answer to his orders from two bedraggled girls, who could -do nothing but weep over each other. The brave little Serpent had lost -her nerve once more. - -"Oh!" she said, "it's very wicked to be a girl. Boys wouldn't give way -like this." - -Jean looked at her narrowly, "Do you always go about in gymnasium dress, -ready to save people?" she asked, with the remains of fear in her voice. - -The brave little Serpent looked down on her costume, and the red which -glowed in her cheeks only from mortification ran slowly up and dyed her -pale face crimson. "Oh!" she said, "oh!" and sat speechless. - -Betty sat up shivering. "I do call that presence of mind, don't you? -She flung off her skirt, didn't you, dear?" - -The Serpent would have answered except that the "dear" unnerved her. -She faded to tears once more. - -"Come, come," said Mr. Symington. - -And at that, as they afterwards remembered, Mabel "came." - -She came through the trees in a white dress, and the sunshine threw -patches of beautiful colour on her hair. - -"Oh, little Betty!" she cried. - -Then she saw the Serpent. - -She took Elsie right up against the beautiful white dress and kissed -her. Mabel could not speak at all. But her eyes glowed. She turned -them full on Mr. Symington. "We must take these children home at once," -she said. - -Mr. Symington looked as though he had been rescuing an army. "Yes," -said he gravely. - -Robin had trailed in looking somewhat dissatisfied. - -"Jean would go, wouldn't she?" he asked. - -"Oh no, I don't want mummy to know," said Mabel. "She is up there with -Mrs. Clutterbuck. These two must go home, and get hot baths, and be put -to bed and sat upon, or they won't stay there. Where can we get a cab, -I wonder?" - -"Here," said a voice. - -Adelaide Maud now came through that beautiful pathway of sun-patched -trees with Elma. "I've heard all about it," said she, "and we have the -carriage. Borrow wraps from every one and tuck them in. We shall keep -Mrs. Clutterbuck employed till Mr. Symington comes back." - -It seemed that they all took it for granted that Mr. Symington would go. - -Robin showed signs of losing his temper. Mabel as a rule, when these -imperious fits descended on him began to investigate her conduct and -wonder where she might alter it in order that he might be appeased. This -time, however, she was too anxious and concerned over Betty, and while -Jean might be quite whole-hearted in her manner of looking after people, -one could not depend on her for knowing the best ways in which to set -about it. In any case, the two could not be kept there shivering. - -Adelaide Maud was a trifle indignant at the interruption. "Quick," she -said to Mr. Symington, "get them in and off." - -"Oh you are the fairy princess, always, somehow, aren't you," sighed -Betty, happily, as on their being tucked in rugs and waterproofs, -Adelaide Maud gave quick decided orders to the coachman. - -"Isn't she just like a story book," she sighed rapturously. They drove -swirling homewards, in a damp quick exciting way until they pulled up at -the door of the White House. - -"Oh, mine was nearer," said the Serpent nervously. She had never entered -the portals of the White House in this intimate manner, and suddenly -longed for loneliness once more. - -"Well," said Mabel sweetly and nicely, "you will just have to imagine -that this is as near for to-day at least. Because I am going to put you -to bed." - -They laughed very happily because they were being put to bed like -babies. - -"If only Cuthbert were here," said Mabel anxiously and in a motherly -little way to Mr. Symington, afterwards, "he would tell me whether they -oughtn't to have a hot drink, and a number of other things they say they -won't have." - -"I should give them a hot drink," said Mr. Symington with his grave eyes -dancing a trifle. "And keep them in blankets for an hour or two." - -It was he who found Mr. Leighton and told him a little of what had -happened. ("Oh the conspiracies which shield a parent!") For days Mr. -and Mrs. Leighton, the Professor and Mrs. Clutterbuck, had an idea that -the two girls had merely fallen in and got very wet. In any case, Elsie -often came home in considerable disrepair. When one found, however, -that neither was the worse for the fright, Elsie was made a real -heroine. It changed her attitude completely. The Leightons liked her -now whether they felt charitable or not. It was a great relief. And -one day her own father focussed his far-away gaze on her, as though he -had only then considered that there was anything on which to look at her -particular place at table. - -"They tell me--ahem--that you can swim," he exclaimed. "Very excellent -exercise, very." - -To an outsider it did not sound like praise, but his sentence set -Elsie's heart jumping in a joyous manner. - -"Oh, papa," she said. "I was very frightened afterwards." - -"Hem," said he, "an excellent time in which to be frightened." - -Mrs. Clutterbuck congratulated herself on his having said it (she would -have made it "time to be frightened in," and the Professor in such good -humour, too!) - -Happier days had really dawned in that grim household however. - -The growing up of the courage of Elsie became a wonderful thing. - -Meanwhile other events had occurred than the saving of Betty. Robin had -had to go home alone, and Lance had the benefit of some of his -ill-humour on meeting him on the way. - -"Who shot cock Robin to-day?" reflected Lance with speculative eyes on -that retreating person. He nearly ran into a very athletic figure -coming swinging round on him from the Leightons'. - -Hereward the Wake was in his most magnificent mood and his eyes shone -with the light of achievement. He was speaking when he turned, and the -words dropped automatically even before the impish gaze of Lance. - -"Knew you and named a star," quoted Mr. Symington. - -"Now what on earth has that to do with the boat race?" asked Lance. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - The First Peal - - -Mabel was twenty-one when her cousin Isobel Leighton came to make her -home at the White House. Isobel's mother had died ten years before, and -since the more recent death of her father, she had stayed for a year or -two with her mother's relations. Now, suddenly, it seemed imperative -that Mr. Leighton should offer her a place in his own family, since -various changes elsewhere left her without a home. It was the most -natural thing in the world that everybody should be pleased. The girls -got a room ready for her, and took pains towards having it specially -attractive. They even made plans amongst their friends for Isobel to be -suitably entertained. "Though how we are to manage about dance -invitations and that sort of thing, I can't think," said Jean. "It's -bad enough with two girls, and sometimes no man at all. It will be -awful with three." - -Elma herself was on the verge of being eligible for invitations. Mabel -looked as though she did not mind much. Worrying thoughts of her own -were perplexing her, thoughts which she could not share with any one -just then. The spring of her life had been one to delight in. Tendrils -of friendship had kept her safely planted where Jean, the revolutionist, -tore everything by the roots. What was not good enough for Jean -immediately was had up and cast away. What had not been good enough for -Jean had been their own silly enthusiasm for the Story Books. Jean in -her own mind had disposed of the whole romance of this by beating -Theodora at golf. She now patronized Theodora, and ignored the others. -Adelaide Maud she already considered entirely _passe_. - -The confidences of long ago were shaken into an unromantic present. The -Dudgeons called ceremoniously twice a year, and invited the girls to -their dances. Mabel and Jean went, occasionally with Cuthbert "cut in -marble," and were inexpressibly bored in that large establishment. - -"It doesn't seem to make up for other things that one sits on velvet -pile and has a different footman for each sauce," Mabel declared. "We -have to face the fact that the Dudgeon establishment is appallingly -ugly." - -So much for Mrs. Dudgeon's beaded work cushion effect. - -"It's only a woman who would make you leave an early Victorian -drawing-room for a Georgian hall, and get you on an ottoman of the third -Empire, and expect you to admire the mixture," growled Cuthbert. It was -this sort of talk that was to be had out of him after he had been to the -Dudgeons' balls. - -Elma still prized her meetings with Adelaide Maud at Miss Grace's, but -recognized where her friendship ceased there. There seemed no getting -further into the affections of Adelaide Maud than through that warm -comradeship at Miss Grace's, or through her outspoken admiration for Mr. -Leighton. And "Adelaide Maud had grown _passe_" Jean had declared. - -The world seemed very cold and unreal at this juncture. - -Mabel came into Elma's room one day looking very disturbed. There was a -fleeting questioning look of "Are you to be trusted?" in her eye. - -"You know I'm to be trusted, Mabs," said Elma, as though they had been -discussing the iniquity of anything else. "You aren't vexed at Isobel's -coming are you?" - -"Oh, no," said Mabel quickly, "it isn't that, it's other things." She -threw herself languidly on a couch. - -"Haven't you noticed that the Merediths haven't been here for a -fortnight?" - -Elma brushed diligently at fair, very wavy hair. It fell in layers of -soft brown, and shone a little with gold where the light touched the -ripples, diligently created with over-night plaiting. She had grown, -but in a slender manner, and was admittedly the _petite_ member of the -family. There was a wealth of comprehension in the glance she let fall -on Mabel. - -"Mabel, you don't mean to quarrel with them do you?" - -It seemed that the worst would happen if that happened. - -"I don't suppose I shall have the chance," said Mabel. She took a rose -out of a vase of flowers, and began to pluck absently at the petals. - -"I think I should love to have the chance." - -"Oh, Mabel," said Elma distractedly, "how dreadful of you! And how -fatal it might be! I shouldn't mind quarrelling a little. I think -indeed it would be lovely, if one were quite sure, perfectly convinced, -that one could make it up again. That's why I enjoy a play so much. -Every one may be simply disgusting, but they are bound to make it up. -If only one could be absolutely safe in real life! But you can't. I -don't believe Mr. Meredith would make it up." - -"I am sure he wouldn't." Mabel plucked at a pink leaf stormily. -"That's why I should like to quarrel with him." - -"Mabs, don't you care for him now?" Elma's eyes grew wide with trouble. -It was not so much that Mabel had given any definite idea of having -cared for Mr. Meredith. It had been a situation accepted long ago as -the proper situation for Mabel, that there should be an "understanding" -in connexion with Mr. Meredith. It established limitless seas of -uncertainty if anything happened to this "understanding" except the most -desirable happening. Mabel leaned her head on her hand. - -"You see, dear," she exclaimed, "this is how it is. Long ago, papa so -much disliked our talking about getting married, any of us, even in fun -you know, that it was much easier, when Mr. Meredith came, just to be -friends--very great friends, you know, but still--friends. Papa always -said he wouldn't let one of us marry till we were twenty-three. That -was definite enough. And he has been quite pleased that we haven't -badgered him into getting engaged. Still, I always think that Robin -ought to have said to him, once at least, that sometime he wanted to -marry me. He didn't, I just went on playing his accompaniments, and -being complimented by his sister. Now--now, what do you think? He has -grown annoyed with papa for being so kind to Mr. Symington. Fancy his -dictating about papa!" Mabel's eyes grew round and innocent. - -"But that's because Mr. Symington is nice to you, perhaps," said Elma, -as though this burst of comprehension was a great discovery on her part. - -"Exactly," said Mabel calmly. "But if you leave unprotected a cake from -which any one may take a slice, you can't blame people when they try to -help themselves. Robin should be able to say to Mr. Symington, 'Hands -off--this is my property,' and then there would be no trouble. As it -is, he wants me to do the ordering off, papa's friend too!" - -"What did you say to him, Mabel?" Elma asked the question in despair. - -"I said that when Mr. Symington had really got on--then would be the -time to order him off." - -Mabel fanned herself gently. Then her lip quivered. - -"I don't think papa ever meant to let me in for an ignominious position -of this sort--but here I am. If Robin won't champion me, who will?" - -"Oh, but surely," said Elma, "surely Robin Meredith would never----" - -"That's the trouble. He would," said Mabel. "And once you've found that -out about a man--you simply can't--you can't believe in him, that's -all." - -Elma sat in a wretched heap on her bed. - -"I think it's horrid of him to let you feel like that," she said. -"Other men wouldn't. Cuthbert wouldn't to any one he cared for." - -"Lots wouldn't," said Mabel. "That's why it's so ignominious, to have -thought so much of this one all these years!" - -"Mr. Maclean wouldn't," said Elma. She had always wondered why Mabel -had ignored him in her matrimonial plans. - -"No, I don't believe he would," said Mabel. "But that's no good to me, -is it?" - -"Mr. Symington wouldn't," said Elma. - -"Oh, Elma!" - -Mabel's eyes grew frightened. "That's what scares me. I sit and sit -and say, Mr. Symington never would. It makes Robin seems so thin and -insignificant. He simply crumples up. And Mr. Symington grows large -and honourable, and such a man! And I'm supposed in some way to be -dedicated to Robin. It's like having your tombstone cut before you are -dead. Oh, Elma, whatever shall I do!" - -Elma was quite pale. The lines of thought had long ago disappeared with -the puckerings of wonder on her face. Here indeed was thunder booming -with a vengeance, and near, not far off like that golden picture of -years ago. Mabs was in deep trouble. - -"You see what would happen if I told papa? He would order off Mr. -Symington in a great fright, because he has never thought somehow that -any of us were thinking of him except that he is an awfully clever man! -I think also that papa would turn Robin out of the house." - -"I believe he would," said Elma in a whisper. - -"And then--how awful! All our friends, their friends! Everywhere we -go, we should meet Sarah Meredith! What a life for us! I should like -to quarrel--just because I'm being so badly treated, but the -consequences would be perfectly awful," said Mabel. She took it as -though none of it could be helped. - -Elma was quite crumpled with the agitation of her feelings. - -"You must tell papa, Mabel," she said gently. - -"Oh, Elma, I can't--about Mr. Symington. Imagine Mr. Symington's ever -knowing and thinking--'What do I care for any of these chits of girls!' -Robin has always got wild--if I smiled to my drawing master even. What -I hate, is being dictated to now. And his sulking--instead of standing -by me if there is any trouble. He isn't a man." - -A sharp ring at the bell, and rat-tat of the postman might be heard. -Somebody called up that a letter had come for Mabel. - -Elma went for it and produced it with quaking heart. The writing seemed -something very different to any of the letters which came to Mabel. - -It was from Mr. Symington. - -It explained in the gentlest possible way that he had learned from Miss -Meredith that his presence in Ridgetown caused some difficulty of which -he had never even dreamed. He wrote as a great friend of her dear -father's, and a most loyal admirer of her family, to say the easiest -matter in the world was being effected, and that his visit to Ridgetown -had come to an end. - -The paper shook gently in Mabel's fingers, and fell quivering and -uncertain to the floor. She looked up piteously and quite helplessly at -Elma, like a child seeking shelter, and then buried her head on the -couch. She cried in long, strangled sobs, while Elma stood staring at -her. - -Elma pulled herself together at last. - -"Mabel dear, I'm going to read it." - -Mabel nodded into her bent arms. - -"Oh but," said Elma after shakingly perusing that document, "but he -can't--he can't do this. It's dreadful. It's like blaming you! What -can Miss Meredith have said? Oh! Mabel! Mabel, I shall cut that woman -dead wherever and however I meet her. Oh, Mabel--what a creature! Don't -you cry. Papa will explain to Mr. Symington. He will believe papa. -Papa will explain that you had nothing to do with it, that you don't -mind whether he goes or stays--that----" - -"But I do mind," said Mabel in cold, awe-struck tones. "That's the -awful part. And it's nothing but the smallness of Robin that has taught -me, Mr. Symington is the only man worth knowing in the whole earth." - -She clasped her hands in a hopeless way. - -"And he has been sent away, banished, by the very man who should have -made it impossible for me to see any good quality in any one else except -himself." - -"Who will play Mr. Meredith's accompaniments now?" Elma asked. "Why -they can't get on without you, dear." She still believed that just as -plays were arranged, so should the affairs of Mabel come back to their -original placidity. - -"I shall never play another note for Robin Meredith," said Mabel. - -Elma could not yet doubt but that Robin would come directly he knew how -satisfactorily he had disposed of his rival. One hoped that Mr. -Symington had only explained so far to Mabel. That afternoon they were -to meet Isobel, so that every one was more or less occupied, and always -on this same evening of the week, Friday, the Merediths were at an open -"at home" which the friends of the Leightons attended at the White -House. The question was, would the Merediths come? - -Mabel did not seem to care whether they came or not. She sat, crushing -the letter and not looking at Elma. - -"Elma dear," she said at last, "I can't stand this. I shall tell papa. -Mamma will only say 'I told you so' for our having been such friends -with the Merediths. But I can't bear that she shouldn't know I'm not -ashamed of anything," she caught her breath with a slight sob. "But I'm -done with Robin." - -It seemed magnificent to Elma that for her own honour she should -jeopardize so much. Men like Mr. Meredith were so rare in Ridgetown. -Yet when she asked her, couldn't she still admire Robin, Mabel said very -truthfully then "No." - -Elma would have liked to say that it didn't matter about Mr. Symington. - -"Robin will never enter this house again," Mabel said with quivering -lip. - -But he came--several times. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - The Arrival - - -The 4.50 train hammered and pounded in a jerkily driven manner to -Ridgetown. It was hot, and most of the windows lay open in the -endeavour to catch any air that had escaped being stifled in smoke and -the dust of iron. Miss Meredith occupied a first-class carriage -together with two people. One, an old gentleman who travelled daily and -who did not count, the other a dark-eyed girl of pale complexion. She -wore irreproachably fitting tweeds, and as though to contradict the -severity of their trim appearance, a very flamboyant red hat. It was -tip-tilted in a smart way over her nose, and had an air of seeming to -make every other hat within eyeshot scream dejectedly, "I come from the -country." - -The red hat came from the town, London presumably. The dark girl seemed -in a petulant mood, as though the atmosphere of the carriage stifled her -in more ways than by its being uncontrollably hot. It was out of gear -with the smooth, madonna-like appearance of her features, that she -should be petulant at all. There was an indescribable placidity about -her carriage and expression which contradicted her movements at this -moment of nearing Ridgetown. She caught Miss Meredith's eye on her, and -seemed annoyed at the interest it displayed. Miss Meredith was much -impressed by her appearance. As a rule, she confined her ideas of -people in Ridgetown either to their being "refined" or "rather vulgar." -This girl had not the air of being either of those two. She was a type -which had never been dissected in Ridgetown. It was as evident that one -would neither say of her that she was the complete lady, nor yet that -she was un-ladylike. One could say that she was good-looking, adorably -good-looking. Calm, lucid eyes, containing a calculating challenge in -their expression, milky complexion framing their mysterious depths of -darkness, red lips parting occasionally with her breathing over -startlingly white teeth, this was all very different to the rosebud -complexions, the rather shy demeanour of Ridgetown. - -Miss Meredith could act as a very capable little policeman when she -became interested in any one. She determined to act the policeman now -that she was aware this must be a visitor to Ridgetown. They had passed -the last slow stopping-place, and were nearing what must be her -destination. Each station without the name of Ridgetown had evidently -annoyed the dark girl. - -"The next station is Ridgetown," said Miss Meredith pleasantly. - -The dark girl stared. - -"Oh, ah, is it?" she asked negligently. - -An old gentleman rose from the corner and began collecting his -belongings. - -"May I help you?" he asked, and lifted down her dressing case. - -She became radiant. - -"Thank you so much," she said very gracefully. - -Miss Meredith felt in an annoyed manner that her own overtures had been -unrecognized in favour of these. She could be an abject person, -however, wherever she intended to make an impression, and decided not to -be non-plussed too soon. Doubtless the dark girl was about to visit -some friend of her own. She rose at her end of the carriage to get a -parasol from the rack. It allowed the new arrival to swing out on the -platform even before the train was stopped. - -Miss Meredith saw Isobel being received by the Leightons. - -This was enough to allow of Miss Meredith's slipping away unnoticed -before a porter came to find the neglected dressing bag. But she went -unwillingly, and in a new riot of opinion. The truth came forcibly that -the new cousin would be a great sensation in Ridgetown. It was strange -that she had never dreamed that the dark girl might be the Leightons' -cousin. No occasion would be complete without her. A few weeks ago, -and she might have had her first reception at the Merediths', where they -should have had the distinction of introducing her. Now, owing to late -events, relations might be rather strained between themselves and the -Leightons. - -Miss Meredith had grown more ambitious each year with regard to her -brother. She was the ladder by which he had climbed into social -prominence in Ridgetown. Her diligence overcame all obstacles. At -first, she had deemed it delightful that he should be attached to Mabel, -now it seemed much more appropriate that he should make the most of the -Dudgeons. Through the Leightons they had formed a slight acquaintance -there, which had lately shown signs of development. It became necessary -to sow seeds of disaffection in the mind of Robin where the Leightons -were concerned. He had become too much of their world. He was a man not -easily influenced, and he had had a great affection for Mabel. But the -constant wearing of the stone had invariably been the treatment for -Robin, and lately a good deal of wearing had been necessary on account -of Mr. Symington. - -She began to recall just how much she had said to Mr. Symington. Her -face burned with the recollection that he had shown how much he thought -of Mabel. She had put the matter from Mabel's point of view. While Mr. -Symington was there, Mabel's happiness with Robin was interfered with. -Miss Meredith had intended to infer that it was his constant attendance -at the White House which was being called in question. Whereas, he had -already, unknown to her, settled on it as meaning Ridgetown. He had -interrupted her abruptly, with stern lips, "Pardon me, but will you let -me know distinctly,--is Miss Leighton engaged to your brother?" Miss -Meredith saw her chance and took it at a run. "Yes," she said. It was -hardly a lie, considering how Robin and Mabel had been linked for so -many years in a tacit sort of manner. - -"That--I had not understood," said Mr. Symington. Whereupon he -immediately wrote his letter to Mabel. - -Miss Meredith had always had her own ideas of Mr. Symington. He was not -the companion for these very young girls. He was not old, on the other -hand, but he possessed a temperament which put him on another plane than -that of the rather boisterous Leighton family. On the Meredith plane, if -one would have the words spoken. - -"Robin," she said that evening, after the arrival of Isobel, "let us go -down to the Leightons' as though nothing had happened." - -Robin turned a reserved mask of a countenance in her direction. - -"You women can do anything," he said. - -The weariness of being without these kaleidoscopic friends of theirs had -already beset him. They were still in time to find the old level again. -It would certainly be a freezing world without the Leightons. Everybody -knew that one might get social advantages with the Dudgeons, but one had -always a ripping time with the Leightons. - -Miss Meredith, on her part, began to wonder, now that Mr. Symington was -warned and would keep Robin from feeling the desirability of the girl -whom two men were after, whether Robin himself might be more gently -weaned than by thus being borne away on an open rupture. Robin was in -the position of a man who had been brought up by mother and sister. -Practically, whatever he had touched all his life had remained his own, -sacred and inviolate. It seemed that Mabel ought to have remained his -own merely because he had once stretched out his hand in her direction. -Then, he began to find that he reckoned with a family which had been -taught unselfishness. - -Isobel, to do her justice, always imagined that Mabel from the reserve -of her welcome on the occasion of her arrival, resented her presence at -the White House. She noticed that of all the girls to welcome her, Mabel -kept a constrained silence. This she immediately put down to a personal -distaste of herself, and controlled her actions accordingly. From the -first moment of greeting her aunt and uncle, and sitting down to table, -she upheld a sweetness of character which was unassailable, and which -put Mabel's distrait manner into rather wicked relief. Isobel's was a -nature, formed and articulate, entirely independent of the feelings and -sympathies of others, a nature which could thrive and blossom on any -trouble and disappointment, so long as these were not her own. She had -learned in the mixed teaching of her rather stranded life, that very -little trouble or disappointment came in the way of those who could see -what they wanted and grab with both hands accordingly. She determined to -grab with both hands every benefit to be derived from being leader in -the Leighton family. She had come there with the intention of being -leader. Before the meal was over, she had gained the good opinion of all -except Mabel, an intentional exclusion on her part. Mabel had received -her without effusion. Here was rivalry. In the most methodical and -determined manner, she began a long siege of those rights and privileges -which Mabel, as head of the Leighton girls, had never had really -questioned before. She supplied a link in their musical circle, -incomplete before. She could sing. Her methods were purely technical -and so highly controlled, that the rather soulful playing of the -Leighton girls shrank a little into a background of their own making. -Isobel's voice was like a clear photograph, developed to the last shred -of minuteness. One heard her notes working with the precision of a -musical box. The tiring nature of her accomplishments was never evident -at a first performance. These only appeared to be ripplingly brilliant. -She had the finished air and mechanical mannerisms of the operatic -artist, and they became startlingly effective in a room where music only -in its natural and most picturesque aspect had been indulged. Mr. -Leighton endeavoured to reconcile himself to a person who was invariably -at top notes, and Isobel deceived herself into thinking that she charmed -him. She charmed the others however, and Jean especially was at her -feet. It struck her that probably she would be able to get more of the -fat of life out of Jean than out of any one. She noted that Jean -ordered a good deal where others consulted or merely suggested. Ordering -was more in her line. - -Of Mrs. Leighton she took no account whatever, except that she was -invariably sweet in her presence. - -It dawned on no one that a very dangerous element had been introduced -into the clear heaven of the wise rule of the White House. - -Mabel's mind at the start, it is true, was in a subconscious condition -of warning. The particular kind of warning she could not recognize, -but, long after, attached it to the attitude of Isobel. In a month or -two, she found that while her family still remained outwardly at one -with her, a subtle disrespect of any opinion of hers, a discontent at -some of her mildest plans, seemed to invade the others. It came upon -her that her ideas were very young and crude with Isobel there to give -finer ones. - -Ah! that was it. Isobel was so much better equipped for deciding things -than she was. It affected Mabel's playing when she imagined that her -family found it at last not good enough. She never could play for -Isobel. On the first night of arrival, Mabel was most concerned, -however, on how she was to give certain news to her father and mother. -Mr. Leighton had heard from Mr. Symington--only that he had been called -away. Mabel took the news in public with a great shrinking Her heart -cried out in rebellion, and instead of indulging that wild cry, she had -to be interested in the arrival of Isobel. She caught Isobel's keen -darkness of gaze on her, and shifted weakly under its influence to -apparent unconcern and laughter. - -At the worst of it, when they were taking tea in the drawing-room after -dinner, Robin and his sister came in. Miss Meredith's _coup_ was worth -her fear and distrust in experimenting with it. Robin became genuinely -interested in Isobel. This made him almost kind to Mabel. - -It concentrated all Mabel's wild rush of feelings to a triumph of pride. -Where she would willingly have gone to her room and had it out with -herself, she waited calmly in the drawing-room and heard Isobel's first -song. - -Miss Meredith's heart glowed feebly. She had won her point. But -Mabel's face heralded disaster. - -Elma too would not look at her. - -Elma trembled with the weight of what she would like to say to Sarah -Meredith, and could not. Feebly she determined not to shake hands with -her, then found herself as having done it. - -Mr. Leighton talked quite unconcernedly about the departure of Mr. -Symington. "Can you tell me why he leaves us so suddenly?" he asked of -Miss Meredith. - -She had always made a point of liking to be asked about Mr. Symington. -This time she seemed afraid of the subject, certainly of Mr. Leighton's -airy manner of handling it. Robin's face flushed hotly in an enraged -sort of manner. Mabel's grew cold. - -With all their experience of each other, and their knowledge of what had -been going on, none in the room knew the nature of the crisis at hand, -except the actors in it, and Elma. But, by the intuition of a nature -that scented disaster easily and wilfully, Isobel, without a word from -one of them, saw some of these hearts laid bare. - -Miss Meredith, ill at ease, interested her immensely. - -Miss Meredith at last answered that she knew nothing of the reason why -Mr. Symington had left so abruptly. - -Elma rose shaking in every limb. - -"That is not true," she said. Her voice, more that her words carried -effect. - -She could go no further, she could only say, "That is not true." - -Mrs. Leighton looked very surprised, and then helplessly bewildered. -Miss Meredith had a talent for seeing her chance. She saw it here. She -turned in a rather foolish way, as though they intended some compliment. - -"Indeed," said she, "you all over-rate my influence with Mr. Symington. -It is nothing to me whether he goes or stays." - -Mabel pulled Elma into a corner. - -"Oh shut up dear, for Heaven's sake shut up!" she whispered, and that -incident was closed. - -But Isobel began to play with a loud triumphant accompaniment and sang -in a manner which might have shown every one the thing which she thought -she had just discovered. - -Instead, they all declared they had never heard such clear top notes. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - The Thin Edge of the Wedge - - -It seemed to Mabel that Isobel's proposals, kindly worded and prettily -mentioned, were always impossible of acceptance. She did nothing but -refuse these overtures to friendship for the next week or so. This was -the more awkward since she was particularly anxious to make everything -nice for Isobel. But the proposals and the overtures seemed continually -to occur in connexion with the Merediths. It was a ridiculous thing of -course that Isobel should be proposing anything in connexion with the -Merediths. - -Jean had now found some one after her own heart, one who did not wait -for invitations, but thought immediately on a plan for making one's self -known to people. Isobel had already called on the Dudgeons. Her -progress was a royal one, and Mabel hated herself for the way she alone, -though often with the backing up of Elma's companionship, kept out of -things. She ventured to tell Jean why Robin no longer was a friend of -hers. Jean seemed then to think him all the more eligible for Isobel. -This hurt more than one dared to believe. But Jean always had been for -a direct way of dealing with people, sentiment not being in her nature -at all. She considered it stupid of Mabel to bother about a man to whom -she had not even been engaged. - -Mabel, rather morbidly clung to her pride after this, and refused Elma's -repeated pleadings to tell her mother and father. If one's own sister -called one a donkey, it wasn't much encouragement to go on to more -criticism. Mabel would rather see Isobel married to Robin than say a -word more on her own account. Elma worried about it as much as Mabel -did, and nothing would induce her to go near the Merediths. Mr. and -Mrs. Leighton noted the difference, but had to confess that changes of a -sort must come. Above all, Mabel was very young, and they did not want -to press anything serious upon her just then. Robin's behaviour -remained so gentlemanly that no one could convict him of anything except -a sudden partiality for Isobel. - -"They are all children of a sort," said Mr. Leighton, "and children -settle their own differences best." - -Isobel felt the difficulty of the number of girls in the place. It -appalled her to think of Elma's creeping up next, and making the string -lengthen. She looked with positive disapproval on Elma with her hair -up. In a forlorn way, Elma felt the great difference between her -seventeenth birthday, and that glorious day when Mabel entered into her -kingdom. - -Mabel was in trouble, Jean engrossed with her own affairs, and Isobel -sweetly disdainful when Elma turned up her hair. She put it down again -for three weeks, and nobody seemed to be the least pained at the -difference. - -At every visit to Miss Grace, she wondered whether or not it would be -quite loyal to tell her about Mabel. Miss Annie and she were, however, -so uncomprehending about anything having gone wrong, so interested in -the new cousin, that invariably Elma's confidences were checked by such -a remark as, "How very sweet Isobel looked in that pink gown to-day," -and so on. Then one had to run on and be complimentary about Isobel. It -seemed to Elma that her heart would break if Miss Grace, along with -every one else, went over to Isobel. - -She was not to know that Adelaide Maud had been there before her. - -"I can't quite explain," said Adelaide Maud to Miss Grace one day, "I -can't explain why I feel it, but this new cousin isn't on the same plane -with the Leightons. There's something more--more developed, it's true, -but there's also something missing." - -"Something that has to do with being a lady?" asked Miss Grace in her -timid way. - -"Exactly. I know my London types, and this isn't one I should fasten on -to admire, although she makes rather a dashing brilliant appearance in -her present surroundings." - -"I'm a little concerned about that," said Miss Grace. - -In spite of her uniform courtesy where Isobel was concerned she had -quite a talk with Adelaide Maud regarding her. - -"I should fancy it's this," said Miss Grace finally, "that while she -stays with the Leightons she has all the more income on which to look -beautiful. I can't help seeing an ulterior motive, you observe. I -sometimes wonder, however, what she will do to my little girls before -she is done with them." - -The first thing Isobel did was to inflame Jean with a desire to sing. -There was no use trying to inflame Mabel about anything. After Jean had -discovered that she might have a voice there was nothing for it but that -she should go to London. She begged and implored her father and mother -to let her go to London. She was the only member of the family who had -ever had the pluck to suggest such a thing. They had a familiar disease -of home-sickness which prevented any daring in such a direction. Mabel -had twice come home a wreck before she was expected home at all, and -invariably vowing never to leave again. - -And now Jean, the valiant, asked to be allowed to go alone to London in -order to study. - -"It's Isobel who has done it," wailed Betty. "She's so equipped. We -seem such duffers. And it will be the first break." - -Mr. Leighton groaned. - -"Why can't you be happy at home," he asked Jean. - -"Oh, it will be so lovely to come back," said Jean, "with it all--what -to do and how to do it--at one's fingers' ends." - -"You don't keep your voice at your fingers' ends, do you?" asked Mrs. -Leighton. - -It seemed superb nonsense to her that Jean should not take lessons at -home. Isobel marvelled to find that the real difficulty in the way of -Jean's getting was this mild obstinacy of Mrs. Leighton's. - -"I can tell Jean of such a nice place to live--with girls," said Isobel. -"And I know the master she ought to have." - -"And we can't all vegetate here for ever," said poor Jean. - -Nothing ever cost Mr. Leighton the wrench that this cost him, but he -prepared to let Jean go. - -Mabel and Elma would rather anything than that had happened just then. -It had the effect of making Isobel more particular in being with Mabel -rather than with Jean. Had she sounded the fact that with all Jean's -protestations, Mabel was the much desired--that people were more keen on -having the Leighton's when Mabel was of the party! Elma began to -speculate on this until she was ashamed of herself. - -They played up for Jean at this juncture as though she were going away -for ever. One would have thought there was nothing to be had in London -from the manner in which they provided for her. Even Lance appeared -with a kettle and spirit lamp for making tea. - -"You meet in each other's rooms and talk politics and mend your -stockings," said he, "and you take turns to make tea. I know all about -it." - -Maud Hartley gave her a traveller's pincushion, and May Turberville a -neat hold-all for jewellery. - -Jean stuck in her two brooches, one bangle, a pendant and a finger ring. - -Then she sighed in a longing manner. - -"If I use your case, I shall have no jewellery to wear," she said to -May. - -At that moment a package was handed to her. It was small, and of the -exciting nature of the package that is first sealed, and then discloses -a white box with a rubber strap round it. - -"Oh, and it's from Bulstrode's," cried Jean in great excitement. "The -loveliest place in town," she explained to Isobel. "What can it be?" - -It was a charming little watch on a brooch clasp, and it was accompanied -by a card, "With love to dear Jean, to keep time for her when she is far -away. From Miss Annie and Miss Grace." - -"Well," said Jean, with her eyes filling, "aren't they ducks! And I've -so often laughed at Miss Grace." - -"They are just like fairy godmothers," said Elma. "Jean! It's lovely." - -She turned and turned the "little love" in her hand. - -Where so many were being kind to Jean, it appeared necessary to Aunt -Katharine that she also must make her little gift. She gave Jean a -linen bag for her boots, with "My boots and shoes" sewn in red across -it. - -"I don't approve of your trip at all," she said to Jean, "but then I -never do approve of what your mother lets you do. In my young days we -were making jam at your age, and learning how to cure hams. The stores -are upsetting everything." - -"I want to sing," said Jean, "and your bag is lovely, Aunt Kathie. -Didn't you want very badly to learn the right way to sing when you were -my age?" - -Aunt Katharine sang one Scotch song about Prince Charlie, and it was -worth hearing for the accompaniment alone, if not for the wonderful -energy with which Aunt Katharine declaimed the words. Dr. Merryweather, -in an abstracted moment, once thanked her for her recitation, and this -had had the unfortunate result of preventing her from performing so -often as she used to. - -"No, my dear," she said in answer to Jean's remark, "I had no desire to -find out how they sang at one end of the country, when my friends -considered that I performed so well at the other end. The best masters -of singing are not all removed from one's home. Nature and talent may -do wonders." - -Then she sighed heavily. - -"The claims of home ought to come first in any case. Your mother and -father have given you a comfortable one. It is your duty to stay in -it." - -"Well, papa has inflamed us with a desire to excel in music. It isn't -our fault," said Jean. "And one can't get short cuts to technique in -Ridgetown." - -"I quite see that your father places many things first which ought to -come last," said Aunt Katharine dismally. "Oh, I beg your pardon," she -exclaimed, for four girls, even including Jean with her boot bag, had -risen at her, "I forgot that I am not allowed free expression in regard -to my own brother-in-law." - -Aunt Katharine could always be expected to give in at this point, but up -to it, one was anxious. - -Cuthbert came down to bid farewell to Jean. - -"You are a queer old thing," he said to her. "Living in rooms is a -mucky business, you know." - -"Oh, I shall be with twenty other girls," said Jean; "a kind of club, -you know. Isobel says it's lovely. And then we get so _stuck_ here!" - -Cuthbert admitted that it wasn't the thing for them all to be cooped up -in Ridgetown. - -"Couldn't stand it myself, without work," said he. "And then, it's -ripping, of course." - -It was lovely to have Cuthbert back, and he made a new acquaintance in -Isobel. She had been a queer little half-grown thing when he had last -seen her. - -In an indefinite way he did not approve of her, but finding her on terms -of such intimacy with every one, he only gave signs of pleasure at -meeting her. - -Elma was in dismay because there were heaps and heaps of things for -which she wanted Cuthbert, and he only stayed two days. An idea that he -could put a number of crooked things straight, if he remained, made her -plead with him to come again. - -Cuthbert promised in an abstracted manner. - -"Give me one more year, Elma, and then you may have to kick me out of -Ridgetown," he said. "Who knows? At least, I shall make such a try for -it, that you may have to kick me out." - -Everybody nice seemed to be leaving, and Adelaide Maud was away. - -It was rather trying to Elma that Isobel should about this period insist -on visiting at Miss Annie's. Isobel seemed to be with them on every -occasion, from the moment that Jean arranged to go to London. - -Jean got everything ready to start. With Isobel's help she engaged her -room from particulars sent to her. It was the tiniest in a large house -of small rooms, but Jean, rather horrified at a detached sum of money -being singled out by her father from the family funds, was determined to -make that sum as small as possible. Mr. Leighton saw these preparations -being made and was helpful but dismal about them. Mrs. Leighton -presented her with a travelling trunk which would cover up and be made a -window-seat, no doubt, in that room where the tea parties were to occur. -Everything was ready the night before her departure, and exactly at -7.15, when the second dressing bell rang for dinner, as Betty explained -afterwards, Jean broke down. - -This was an extraordinary exhibition to Isobel, who had travelled, and -packed, and always moved to a new place with avidity. She said now that -she would give anything she was worth at that moment to be flying off to -London like Jean. - -"Oh," said Jean, "it's like a knife that has cut to-day away from -to-morrow, and all of you from that crowd I'm going to. Do you know," -she said, as though it were quite an interesting thing for them to hear -about, "I feel quite queer--and sick. Do you think that perhaps there -is something wrong with me?" She even mentioned appendicitis as a -possible ailment. - -"You are getting home-sick," said Mabel, who knew the signs. - -Jean was much annoyed. - -"You don't understand," she said. "I'm not silly in that way. I don't -feel as though I could shed a tear at going away. I'm just over-joyed -at the prospect. But I'm so wobbly in other ways. I'm really terrified -that I'm going to be ill." - -Poor Jean ate no dinner. Jean didn't sleep. Jean perambulated the -corridors, and thought of the night when Cuthbert got hurt. She wished -that she were enough of a baby to go and knock at her mother's door, as -they had done then, and get her to come and comfort her. She hoped her -father wasn't vexed that she had asked to go, and hadn't minded leaving -him. Then she remembered how she intended coming home--a full-blown -prima donna sort of person--one of whom he should really be proud. This -ought to have set her up for the night, but the thought of it failed in -its usual exhilarating effect. - -The sick feeling returned, with innumerable horrors of imaginary pain, -and a real headache. - -Jean saw the dawn come in and sincerely prayed that already she had not -appendicitis. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - A Reprieve - - -The first two letters from Jean were so long, that one imagined she must -have sat up most of the night to get them off. - -"I don't mind telling you that I felt very miserable when I got to my -rooms," she said among other things. "I drove here all right, and the -door was opened by a servant who didn't seem to know who I was. Then -she produced a secretary who looked at me very closely as though to see -whether I was respectable or not. She took me up to my room, and it's -like a little state-room, without the fun of a bunk. There's one little -slippy window which looks out on the gardens, and across the gardens -there are high houses, with occasionally people at the windows. One -girl with a pink bow in her hair sits at a window all day long. -Sometimes she leans out with her elbows on the sill, and looks down, and -then she draws them in again and sits looking straight over at me. -She's quite pretty. But what a life! It must be dreadful only having -one room and nothing to do in it. My piano hasn't come, and until it -arrives, it's like being the girl with the pink bow. At home it's -different, we can always pull flowers, or fix our blouses or do -something of that sort. The girls here don't seem to mind whether one -is alive or dead. I think they are cross at new arrivals. I sat last -night at dinner at a little table all by myself, on a slippery linoleum -floor, and thought it horrid. Then it would have been fun to go to the -drawing-room ('to play to papa,' how nice that sounds), but the girls -melted off by themselves. I looked into the drawing-room and thought it -awful, so I ran up to my room and stayed there. The girl with the pink -bow was at her window again, and I really could have slain her, I don't -know why." - -Then "I'm to have my first lesson to-morrow. I'm so glad. Because I -can't practise, even although my piano has come. A girl who writes made -the others stop playing last night in the drawing-room because it gave -her a headache. It makes me think that no one will want to hear me -sing. I suppose they think I'm very countrified. - -"I think the real reason why I can't practise is because I'm not very -well. London food doesn't seem so nice as ours, and I still have that -funny feeling that I had when I started. I suppose you are all having -jolly times. You would know that girls lived in this house. It's all -wicker furniture, and little green curtains, and vases of flowers. I've -only gone out to see about my lesson, except to the post and quite near -here. I don't like going out much yet. Isobel's directions were a -great help." - -This letter stopped rather abruptly. So much so that Mr. Leighton was -far from happy about Jean. He bothered unceasingly as to whether he -should have allowed her to go. Mrs. Leighton enlarged his anxiety by -her own fears. Jean's growing so much faster and taller than any one -else had been a point in her favour with her mother a few years before, -and Mrs. Leighton had never got over the certainty that Jean must be -delicate in consequence. - -"I hope she won't have appendicitis," said she mournfully. - -"Oh, mummy," said Mabel, "Jean is only home-sick." - -Jean wrote another desponding letter. - -"Home-sick or not home-sick, if Jean is ill, she has got to be nursed," -said Mrs. Leighton. - -"Jean has never been ill in her life," Mabel pointed out. "She hasn't -even felt very home-sick. It will pass off, mummy dear." - -But it didn't. - -Jean sat, in dismal solitude, in the room looking over to the girl with -the pink bow, and she thought she should die. She did not like the -words of encouragement which came from home. Every one was trying to -"buck her up" as though she were a kid. No one seemed to understand -that she was ill. - -At the fifth day of taking no food to speak of and not sleeping -properly, and with the most lamentable distaste of everything and every -one around possessing her, she detected at last an acute little pain -which she thought must be appendicitis. - -She went out, wired home "I am in bed," and came back to get into it. - -Once the girls in the house heard that she was ill, they crowded into -her room with the kindest expressions of help and sympathy. They -brought her flowers and fruit, and one provided her with books. Then -they came in, as Lance had promised, and made tea for her. Jean took -the tea and a good many slices of bread and butter, and felt some of the -weight lifted. It might not be appendicitis after all. - -And she never dreamed of the havoc which her telegram might create. -Towards the evening, she got one of her effusive visitors to send off -another telegram. "Feeling better," this one declared. - -She did not know that just before this point, Mr. Leighton had -determined to fetch her home from London. The whole household was in -despair. Mrs. Leighton wanted to start with him in the morning. Mr. -Leighton was not only anxious, he was in a passion with himself for ever -having let Jean go. - -"Madness," he said, "madness. I cannot stand this any longer." - -Isobel hated to see people display feeling, and this excitement about a -girl with a headache annoyed her infinitely. She was invited out to -dinner with Mabel, and Mabel would not go. - -"Papa is in such a state," Mabel said, "I could not possibly go out and -leave him like this. Let us telephone that we cannot come." - -Isobel checked the protest that rose to her calm lips. She was ready in -a filmy black chiffon gown, and her clear complexion looked startlingly -radiant in that framing. She had quite determined to go to the dinner -party. - -"Let me telephone for you, Mabel," she said with rather a nice concern -in her voice. "Then it won't take you away from your father." - -Mabel abstractedly thanked her. - -"Say Jean is ill please, and that papa is in fits about her. The -Gardiners will understand." - -Isobel telephoned. - -She came back to Mabel with her skirts trailing in little flaunting -waves of delicate black. - -"They beg me to come. It's so disorganizing for a dinner party. What -shall I do?" she asked in an interrogative manner. - -Mrs. Leighton said, "Oh, do go, Isobel," politely. "Why should anybody -stay at home just because we were so foolish as to let Jean go off to -London alone?" - -"Oh, well," said Isobel lightly, "when you put it like that, I must." - -She went to telephone her decision. - -It was nearly four weeks afterwards when, in quite an unexpected manner, -Betty discovered that she never telephoned that second time at all. -Isobel had arranged her going from the start, adequately. - -Mabel was left alone with the anxious parents when Jean's second -telegram came in. It opened Mabel's eyes to the fact that perhaps for -once Jean was really homesick. It was so much like the way she herself -would have liked to have acted on some occasions and dared not. Jean -had never been ill or been affected by nerves before, and had therefore -no confidence in recoveries. No doubt her interest in the new experience -had made her imagination run away with her. She disliked London and -wanted to get out of it--that was clear enough. But after just six days -of it--with everybody laughing at her giving in! The thing was not to -be thought of. - -It seemed to Mabel that her own difficult experiences lately, all the -hard things she had had to bear, culminated in this sudden act of duty -which lay before her. She must clear out--go to Jean and help her -through. - -"Oh, papa," she said, "please let me go." - -Mr. Leighton jumped as though she had exploded a bomb. - -"What, another," asked he; "isn't one enough! No, indeed! I've had -quite enough of the independence of girls by this time. There's to be -no more of it. Jean is coming home, and you will all stay at home--for -ever." - -He never spoke with more decision. Mrs. Leighton had reached the point -where she could only stare. - -Mabel sat down to her task of convincing them. She looked very -dainty--almost fragile in the delicate gown of the particular colour of -heliotrope which she had at last dared to assume. A slight pallor which -Mrs. Leighton had noticed once or twice of late in Mabel had erased the -bright colour which was usual with her. She spoke with a certain kind of -maturity which her mother found a little pathetic. - -"You see, papa, it's like this. If you go to Jean now, in all -probability whenever she sees you she will be as right as the mail, just -as the rest of us are when we've been home-sick. Then she will be -awfully disgusted that she made so much of it when she finds out what it -is, and it won't be coming home like a triumphant prima donna for her to -come now, will it? She will fall awfully flat, don't you think? And -Cuthbert and Lance and you, papa, will go on saying that girls are no -good for anything. You will take all the spirit out of us at last." - -"She mustn't go on being ill in London," said Mrs. Leighton. "We can't -stand the anxiety." - -"Let me go up for a week or two, and see her started," pleaded Mabel. -"I've been there, you know, and know a little about it, and she would -have time to feel at home. If I find her really ill, I could send for -you. Jean wouldn't feel an idiot about it if I went up just to see her -started." - -Then Mabel fired her last shot. - -"It would be good for me, mummy. I've been so stuck lately. Won't you -let me go?" - -Something in Mabel's voice touched her mother very much. - -"Won't Robin miss you?" she asked in a teasing, but anxious way. "You -don't tell us, Mabel, whether you want Robin to miss you or not. And -that's one of the main things, isn't it?" - -Mabel started, and her eyes grew wide with a fear of what they might say -next. - -"It's all right, Mabs! Don't you worry if you don't want to talk about -it," said her father cheerily. There was a reserve in all of them -except Jean which kept them from expressing easily what they were not -always willing to hide. - -"Oh," said Mabel, "I think I did want to, but n-never could. I don't -think I want to be c-coupled with Robin any more. It was fun when I was -rather s-silly and young, but it's different now." - -She looked at her father quite sedately and quietly. - -"I think Robin thinks a good deal more of Isobel and I'm glad," she said -quite determinedly. "The fact is, I was sure I would be glad if -something like that happened. I was sure before Isobel came." - -Mr. Leighton patted her shoulder. - -"Thank you, my dear, for telling us. You're just to do as you like -about these things. Difficult to talk about, aren't they? Remember, I -don't think much of Robin now, or that sister of his. They could have -arranged it better, I think. Never mind. I shall be glad to have you -find worthier friends." He patted her shoulder again, and looked over -at Mrs. Leighton. She was surreptitiously wiping her eyes. Mabel sat -strong and straight and rather radiant as though a weight were lifted. - -"I don't think," said Mr. Leighton to his wife in a clear voice, "I -don't think that either you or I would be of greater service to Jean -than Mabel could be! Now, do you, my dear, seriously, do you?" He kept -an eye on her to claim the answer for which he hoped. - -"I don't think so, John," said Mrs. Leighton. - -"Then could you get ready for the 8.50 to-morrow morning?" asked Mr. -Leighton of Mabel. - -Mabel hugged him radiantly for answer. - -"I don't know how I can live without two of you, even for a week," he -said. "But then, I won't be selfish. Make the most of it and a success -of it, and I shall always be glad afterwards that you went." - -It was no joke to have to prepare in one evening for a visit to London. -Elma's heart stopped beating when she heard of the arrangement. - -"Oh, Mabs, and I shall be left with that--bounder!" - -The word was out. - -Never had Elma felt so horrified. Years she had spent in listening to -refinements in language, only to come to this. Of her own cousin too! - -"Oh, Mabs, it's shameful of me. And it will be so jolly for Jean. And -you too! Oh, Mabs, shall I ever go to London, do you think?" - -"You go and ask that duck of a father of ours--now--at present--this -instant, and he will promise you anything in the world. No, don't, -dear. On second thoughts he needs every bit of you here. Elma! Play -up now. Play up like the little brick you are. You and Betty play up, -and I'll bless you for ever. Don't you know I'm skipping all that -racketing crowd. I'm skipping Robin. I'm skipping Sarah! Think of -skipping the delectable Sarah!" She shook her fist in the direction of -the Merediths' house. "And what is more, dear Elma, I am skipping -Isobel." - -She said that in a whisper. - -They had all the feeling that Isobel was a presence, not always a mere -physical reality. - -Elma had not seen Mabel in such a joyous mood for weeks. - -"And it's also because I feel I can soon square up Jean, and make her -fit," said Mabel; "so that I'm of some use, you see, in going. I'm -quite sure Jean is only home-sick after all." - -She trilled and sang as she packed. - -"Won't you be home-sick yourself, Mabel?" asked Elma anxiously. - -"I have to get over that sooner or later. I shall begin now," said -Mabel. - -"Won't it be beastly in that girls' club?" wailed Betty. - -"Oh, I'm sure it will," quivered Mabel. She sank in a heap on the -floor. - -"Whatever possessed Jean to go off on that wild chase, I can't think," -cried Betty. - -"I know," said Elma. - -"What?" - -"Isobel." - -The gate clicked outside and there were voices. Betty crept to the -window-sill and looked over. Mabel and Elma stood silent in the room. -Crunching footsteps and then Isobel's voice, then Robin's, then -"Good-night." - -Mabel, with a smothered little laugh, flung a blouse into her trunk. - -"Isn't it ripping, I'm going to London," said she. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - "Love of our Lives" - - -Elma in the privacy of her best confidences had called Isobel a bounder. -The iniquity, viewed even only in the light of a discourtesy, alarmed -her, and made her more than anything "buck up" to being "nice" to her -cousin. - -Isobel had been quite taken aback by the news of Mabel's departure. She -had bargained for almost anything rather than that. Jean had -continually rubbed it in that Mabel was no use for going anywhere away -from home. And now she was being sent to succour Jean. Isobel had gone -out with the news for everybody that Mr. and Mrs. Leighton would be -leaving in the morning. She had even made some plans. Now, what she -looked upon as the tutelage of Mr. and Mrs. Leighton remained, and -Mabel, whom she already regarded as the most useful companion where her -own interests were concerned, was going off to London. - -She could not avoid looking very black about it. To be left there with -two children, Elma and Betty, chained hand and foot to that -kindergarten! One could hardly believe that so dark a cloud could sit -on so clearly calm, so immobile a countenance. Mabel detected the -storm, and it had the effect of making her the more relieved and willing -to be off. - -She had many thoughts for Elma. - -"Don't be hustled out of your rights, dear," she whispered. "Remember, -you are the head." - -Elma had to remember almost every hour of the day. The rule of Isobel -was subtle, and it was most exceedingly sure. She did not take the -pains to hide her methods from Elma and Betty, as she had done from -Mabel and Jean. She openly used the telephone, not always with the door -shut. It brought her plenty of engagements. When a dull day offered -itself, Isobel invariably was called up by telephone to go out. She -never dreamed of inviting Elma. Mrs. Leighton she looked after in a -protecting way which was very nice and consoling to that lady stranded -of her Jean. Many plans were made for Mrs. Leighton's sake, which Elma -considered must have often surprised her. It did not seem necessary -that Mrs. Leighton should attend tea at the golf club for instance, but -Isobel insisted on seeing her go there. Everybody congratulated the -Leightons on having such a charming girl to keep them company while -Mabel and Jean were away. Isobel had certainly found a vocation. - -She came in to Mrs. Leighton and Elma in the drawing-room one day in her -prettiest tweeds with rather fine furs at her throat. - -"Hetty Dudgeon has just rung me up, asking me to go to see her this -afternoon," she said calmly. "I don't suppose you care for the walk," -she asked Mrs. Leighton. - -Mrs. Leighton roused herself from the mental somnolence of some weeks. - -"Miss Hetty! Why, I was speaking to her half an hour ago. She wanted -to send an introduction to Jean. She--she, why, it's very strange that -she didn't tell me she wanted you to come. And you've dressed since. -In fact, she said----" - -Mrs. Leighton got no further. - -"She must have changed her mind," said Isobel in a careless manner. -"Well, good-bye, everybody, I'm off." - -Mrs. Leighton sat a little speechless for the moment. - -"I don't think I quite like that of Isobel," she said. "Miss Hetty did -not want any one this afternoon. She told me why--she's so frank. -Vincent is coming." - -Elma sat debating in her mind, should she tell her mother or should she -not. It was hardly right that Isobel should drag in the telephone, -anything, under her mother's unsuspecting eyes, for her own ends. It was -wildly impertinent to her mother. - -"Mummy, Isobel knew that Vincent was going and she made up her mind to -go too!" - -"Made up her mind!" - -"Yes--she almost half arranged it with Vincent at the golf club the -other day." - -"Then--then what about telephoning!" - -"She never telephoned at all," said Elma. - -Mrs. Leighton would willingly have had that unsaid. - -"It is dreadful to think that any one would take the trouble to do such -a thing for the sake of going to the Dudgeons," she said. "Are you sure -you are not mistaken?" - -"Oh, Miss Meredith is happy for a week if she can squeeze in an excuse -for going to the Dudgeons," replied Elma. "The Dudgeons are such 'high -steppers,' you know." - -"I don't like it," said Mrs. Leighton, "I really don't. None of you were -brought up to go your own way like that, and I don't admire it in other -people." - -"Isobel believes in grabbing for everything one wants with both hands. -She doesn't mean to do anything wicked. She simply means to be on the -spot," said Elma. - -"But what about loyalty, and friendship, and--and honour?" said poor -Mrs. Leighton. - -"Oh, when you are grabbing with both hands for other things you haven't -time for these." - -"My precious child! What in the wide world are you saying!" Mrs. -Leighton was quite horrified. - -"Nothing that I mean, or believe in, mummy. Only what Isobel believes -in. She thinks we are fools to bother about loyalty and that kind of -thing. She hasn't had any one, I think, who cared whether she was -honourable or not. And it must be distracting to know that all the time -she can be perfectly beautiful. It must make you think that everything -ought to come to you, no matter how." - -Elma was really scourging herself now for that iniquity of "the -bounder." - -"Why didn't you tell me before?" said Mrs. Leighton. - -"Oh, mummy, I'm almost sorry I told you now. Except that it lifts the -most awful weight from my mind. I've been so afraid that while Isobel -went on being so sweet and graceful that we should all get bad-tempered -if you believed in her very much. She countermands my orders to the -servants often and often, and they never think of disobeying her. -That's one thing I want to ask you about. If I insist on their obeying -me, will you back me up? I simply crinkle before Isobel, I hate so to -appear to be against her in any way. But Mabel told me I'm to play up as -head of the house, and I'm not doing it while Isobel upsets any order of -mine with a turn of her little finger. It's awfully weak of me, but -I've always said I was made to be bullied, I do so hate having rows with -people." - -The murder was out then. - -Mabel had been gone four weeks, and the housekeeping which had gradually -drifted into her hands was now of course in the command of Elma, or -ought to be. Mrs. Leighton saw at last where Isobel had been getting -hold of the reins of government. - -"You must not be jealous of Isobel's attractions," she said. "And you -know, Elma, any little squabble with your cousin would be a rather -dreadful thing." - -"Awful," said Elma. - -"Your father would never forgive us." - -"He would understand, though," said Elma. There was always such a -magnificence of justice about her father. - -"He is feeling being without the girls so much," said Mrs. Leighton. - -"Yes," said Elma. "But, oh! mother, he is so pleased now that they are -getting on. And isn't it magnificent of Mabel! That's what makes me -think I must play up here. Miss Grace says it's very weak to give in on -a matter of principle. She says that whether I'm wrong or right, the -servants ought to obey me." - -Mrs. Leighton debated for a long time. - -"I quite see your difficulty," she said. "But above all things, we must -never let Isobel think she hasn't her first home with us. You -understand that, don't you?" - -"Yes, mummy," said Elma. "If only you will back me upon the servant -question once. Then I don't believe we shall have any more trouble with -Isobel. I don't mind about whom she telephones to or whom she doesn't, -but I do mind about the housekeeping. She thinks I'm such a kid, you -know. And I mustn't for the credit of the family remain a kid all my -days." - -There was a far stronger motive to account for Elma's determination than -any mere slight to herself. It was that Isobel had known about Robin -and yet appropriated him as though he were a person whom one might make -much of. The treatment of Mabel turned her from a child into a woman -blazing for justice. - -As they sat down to dinner that night, she noticed that her own little -scheme for table decoration had been changed. At dessert she asked, -with her knees trembling in the old manner, "Who changed my table -centre?" - -Nobody answered till Isobel, finding the silence holding conspicuously, -said in a careless way, "Oh, I found Bertha putting down that green -thing." Elma flushed dismally. (If she could only keep pale.) - -She simulated a careless tone, however. - -"Oh, Isobel," she said, "I wish you wouldn't. When I give directions to -the servants, it's very difficult for me if some one else gives them -others." It was lame, but it was there, the information that she was in -control. - -"Very distracting for the servants, too," said Mrs. Leighton calmly, and -ratified Elma's venture with her approval. - -She ate a grape with extreme care. - -Isobel did not answer. She froze in her pink gown however, and a storm -gathered kindling to black anger in her eyes. - -She looked Elma over, her whole bearing carrying a threat. It was a -pose which generally produced some effect. - -But Elma was fighting for something more than her own paltry little -authority. She was bucking up "for Mabel's sake." - -She pretended to treat it as a joke now that Isobel "knew." - -"So after this I'm in undisputed authority," she exclaimed, and wondered -at herself for her miraculous calmness. "And if you, Betty, endeavour -to get more salt in the soup or try on any other of your favourite -dodges, I shall--"--she also ate a grape quite serenely--"I shall half -kill you." - -"Oh, Betty," she said afterwards, "I feel as though I had gone in for a -bathe in mid-winter. Did you see her eye!" - -"I did," said Betty. "So did papa. You'll find it will be easier for -us now. How calm you were! I should have fainted." - -"My knees were knocking like castanets," said Elma. "If I had had them -japanned, you would have heard quite a row. But it's very stimulating." -It occurred to her that now she could write in a self-respecting manner -to Mabel. - -Isobel after this entirely blocked off Elma from any of her excursions. -Even the visits to Miss Grace were over so far as Isobel was concerned, -and Elma once more had that dear lady to herself. - -She would not tell Miss Grace how it had happened that her cousin no -longer accompanied her. Occasionally, however, Isobel stepped in -herself and found her former audience in Miss Annie. - -None of it affected Elma as it might have done. Isobel hardly spoke to -her, certainly never when they were alone. It alarmed Elma how she -could light up when anybody was present, any one who counted, and be -quite companionable to Elma. - -This all faded before the success of Mabel and Jean, who were now -writing in the best of spirits. - -And oh! "Love of our lives," Adelaide Maud, who was now in London, had -called on them. It opened up a fairyland to both, for she took them to -her uncle's house, and feted them generally. Good old Adelaide Maud. - -There was no one like her for bringing relief to the rich, and helping -the moderately poor. - -So Elma described her. - -It seemed odd that it should be difficult to know Adelaide Maud except -in an emergency. Elma, on the advice of Miss Grace, merely had to send -her one little note when in London, with Mabel's address, and Adelaide -Maud had called. - -There were great consolations to the life she now led with Isobel. -Cuthbert vowed he would come down to Elma's first dance. How different -it was to what she had anticipated! She would go with Isobel and Isobel -would be sweetly magnificent, and Elma would feel like a babe of ten. -She longed to refuse all invitations until Mabel came home. Then the -unrighteousness of this aloofness from Isobel beset her, and they -accepted an invitation jointly. - -Isobel ordered a dream of a dress from London. Elma was in white. Mabel -and Jean sent her white roses for her hair, the daintiest things. -Cuthbert played up, and George Maclean found her plenty of partners. -Isobel was quite kind. Mr. Leighton had looked sadly on Elma on seeing -her off. - -"Another bird spreading its wings," said he. - -She looked very small and delicately dainty. Whereas Isobel, "Isobel -was like a double begonia in full bloom," said Betty. - -The begonia bloomed till a late hour effulgently. - -Elma simply longed all the time for Mabel and Jean, and oh! "Love of our -Lives," Adelaide Maud. - -It was Lance who christened her "Love of our Lives." - -"What's that idiot going on about," asked Cuthbert, as he swung Elma off -on the double hop of a polka. - -"He is talking about Adelaide Maud. I'm so dull because she isn't -here." - -"You are?" asked Cuthbert. - -There was a curious inflection on the "you" as though he had said, "You -also?" - -"Yes," said Elma, "though it's so often 'so near and yet so far' with -Adelaide Maud, she is really my greatest friend." - -Cuthbert seemed impressed. - -"She doesn't need to make so much of the 'so far' pose," he said -gruffly. - -"Oh yes, she does," replied Elma. "It's her mother. She withers poor -Adelaide Maud to a stick. It's a wonder she's such a duck. Adelaide -Maud, I mean. Cuthbert, when are you coming home for a long visit?" she -asked. - -"Next summer. I shall tell you a great secret. I think I am to get a -lectureship, quite a good thing. Can you keep it from the pater until -I'm sure?" - -"Rather," said Elma. - -"Then," he said, "if it isn't all roses here next summer, you'll only -have one person to blame." - -"One?" asked Elma. - -Visions of Isobel cut everything from her mind. - -"Is it Isobel?" she asked mildly. - -"Isobel!" Cuthbert looked so disgusted that she could have kissed him. - -She saw Isobel at that moment. She was swaying round the room in the -perfection of rhythm with no less an old loyalist than George Maclean. -Ah, well--all their good friends might drift over there, but she still -had Cuthbert. The joy of it lent wings to her little figure. It always -had been and always remained difficult for her to adapt her small stride -to men of Cuthbert's build. This night she suddenly acquired the -strength and ease--the knowledge which really having him gave her, to -make dancing with him become a facile affair. - -"Oh, Cuthbert, this is ripping," she sighed at last. "If it isn't -Isobel, who is it?" she asked him. - -"Why, Elma, you are a little donkey! Who could it be, but 'Love of our -Lives,' Adelaide Maud?" - -He swung her far into the middle:--where the floor became as melted wax, -and life opened out to Elma like a flower. - -"Oh, Cuthbert dear, how ripping," said little Elma. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - - Herr Slavska - - -Mabel had discovered that a woman with a mission hasn't such a bad time -of it. She set out on her journey to Jean without one of her usual -misgivings. It was jolly to think that she might be able to be of some -use in the world. The tediousness of a long journey of changes till she -reached the main-line and thundered direct to London did not pall on her -as it had done before. Throughout she thought, "I'm getting nearer to -Jean, and I shall put her on her feet." - -She prepared to hate the girls' club, but to be quite uninfluenced by -it. She would take Jean out, till neither of them cared what the club -was like at all. She forgot Robin and Isobel and everything except one -thing which she would never forget, and Jean. - -She drove up to the door of the club in the most energetic and -independent mood she had ever experienced. She didn't care whether the -secretary looked her up and down or not. She merely went straight to -Jean's room. Jean didn't at all pretend that it was a downcome. She -simply wept with delight at the sight of Mabel. - -"And I never shed a tear, not one, till you came," said she. "I'm so -glad you came just when I began to get better." - -Mabel did not dare to tell her that she had only been home-sick. - -"If I tell her that, she will lie in bed to convince me that she is -really ill," she thought. - -Girls' voices were heard screaming volubly. - -"What's that?" asked Mabel, thinking that some accident had occurred. - -"Oh nothing. They call out for each other from their different rooms. -I thought it was a parrot house when I came, but I'm getting accustomed -to it. They've been so decent, you can't think, Mabel. I never knew -girls could be so comforting." - -"Poor Jean," said Mabel. - -"You'll stay, won't you," said Jean. - -"Of course I shall. Just imagine, papa wanted to come and take you -home. It would have been so stale for you after you got there, with -those little presents people gave you and all that kind of thing, if you -had gone right back home again, wouldn't it?" - -"Imagine Aunt Katharine alone," said Jean solemnly. - -"So, if you possibly can, Jean, get up as soon as you feel able to -crawl. So that I can say you are all right. Papa says I may stay for a -week or two if you are." - -"Oh, Mabs, I wish you would stay right on!" - -"Where's my room?" asked Mabel. "What rickety furniture!" - -"The room is next door, isn't it nice? And the furniture's bought for -girls. They think we like rickets." - -"Wickets," corrected Mabel. "You could use that chair at a match." - -"Oh, Mabs, how jolly it is to have you here to laugh at it. Mabs, I do -feel better." - -Mabel saw her up in three-quarters of an hour. - -Jean had still to be treated seriously however. - -"You know, Mabs, I had the most dreadful feeling. I could quite -understand how poor girls without friends go and drown themselves." - -"That's more like depression than appendicitis," Mabel ventured. - -"I hadn't been sleeping," explained Jean with dignity. - -Mabel thought of some sleepless nights. - -"The best cure is always to believe that it can't last," said she. "Do -you remember papa's telling us how Carlyle comforted Mrs. Carlyle when -she had toothache? He said it wouldn't be permanent." - -"What a brute," said Jean. - -"Well, it sent me to sleep once or twice when I remembered that," said -Mabel. "But you never were ill like this before. You couldn't believe -in getting well, could you?" - -"I was sure I was going to die," said Jean in a hushed voice. - -Mabel's heart had ached. Could she tell Jean of that ache and how she -had been obliged to cover it up by making herself believe that it could -not possibly be permanent. - -"Jean, do you know, I think it's so jolly being here, getting to know -the best way of doing things, and all that sort of thing, I think I -shall ask papa to let me stay longer. Do you think they would let me?" - -"Well, they let me--and then I didn't want to," said Jean. - -"And I didn't want to and now I do," said Mabel. "Let's try it for a -week or two anyhow." - -A great depression had been lifted from her shoulders. She found herself -in the midst of girls who had all something to do in the world. They -got up in the morning and came tearing down to breakfast and made off to -various definite occupations, as though they had nineteen parties in one -day to attend. Some were studying, others "arrived" and working, only a -few playing. Yet even the last had some excuse in the way of a -problematical career in front of them. Here one saw where the desire to -be something has quite as hygienic an effect on one, as the faculty of -attainment. Mabel had not been three days in the house till she was as -feverish as any to be getting on. Going with Jean for her first lesson -finished her. Jean was still of the opinion that she was an invalid, -and she certainly was overwrought and nervous. She would have backed -out of her lesson, except that Mabel accompanied her. - -They found a magnificent man, well groomed and of fierce but courtly -manners. He shook hands with the air of an arch-duke. - -"And which is the fortunate mademoiselle?" he asked. "Not that I prefer -'fortunate' because that she happens to be about to be taught by myself, -but she has a voice? Hn?" It was a sound that had only the effect of -asking a question, but how efficiently! - -He glared at Mabel, who produced Jean, as it were, by a motion of the -hand. - -"It is my sister who wants lessons," she said. This sounded like -something out of a grammar book, and both girls saw the humour of it. -But timidly, because Herr Slavska then invited them to sit, while he -turned to the piano. He threw some music aside from the desk and -cleared a place at the side for his elbow, as he sat down for a moment. - -"They do not all have voices! No. But som, they have the soll. You -have the soll? Hn?" - -It did not seem necessary to inform Herr Slavska. He was walking up and -down now, flinging out more sentences before they had time to answer the -last. - -"For myself. I had the voice and I had the soll. That is why I ask 'and -who is the mademoiselle who is so fortunate?' I am a voice, and look at -me! I am a drudge to the great public. I gif lessons to stupids who do -not love music. For what! For money to keep the stomach alive! Yes, -that is it. And yet I say--which is the mademoiselle which is -fortunate? For vit a voice and vit the soll, and vit the art which I -shall gif her, what does it matter about the stupid public? or the -stomach?" - -Herr Slavska waited for no answers. - -"For years I was wrong. I had no art. None. I sang to the stupids and -they applauded. At last I make great discovery, I find the art. Now I -sing to the few." - -Herr Slavska paused for a moment. - -"My sister has had no training at all, except as a pianist," said Mabel. - -"Hn? Then I haf her, a flower, a bud unplucked!" - -Herr Slavska grew excited. - -"No nasty finger mark, no petal fallen. Ah! it is luck, it is luck for -mademoiselle. Come, mademoiselle." - -He struck a note. - -"Will you sing ze!" - -Jean sang "ze." She sang "zo." Then he ran her voice into the top and -bottom registers. - -"You have the comprehension. It is the great matter," said Herr -Slavska. - -Then he blazed at her. - -His "the," quite English when he remained polished and firm, degenerated -into a "ze" at times such as these. - -"You haf not ze breath, none," said he, as though Jean had committed an -outrage. - -Jean, however, had begun to glow with the ardour of future -accomplishment. - -"That's what I came to learn," she said promptly. - -"Aha, she has charac*tere*." - -Herr Slavska was delighted, but Jean found this constant dissection of -herself trying. - -Then the real work began. Herr Slavska breathed, made Jean breathe, -hammered at her, expostulated, showed his own ribs rising and falling -while his voice remained even, tender, beautiful. - -Mabel sat clasping her hands over one another. - -"Oh, Herr Slavska, what a beautiful voice you have," she burst out at -last. - -He looked at her with the greatest surprise. - -"Ah! You are her sister? Hn? And you sit there listening to us?" - -He had forgotten her existence. - -"And you are not of the stupids, no! You say I haf a beautiful voice? -Hn? It is ze art, mademoiselle, zat you hear now. Sixty-five, I am zat -age! And I still fight for ze stomach wit my beautiful voice. But you -are of ze few, is it not? I vil sing to you, mademoiselle, just once. -Your sister goes. Ten minutes, mademoiselle--only ten minutes. Zen a -rest. And every day to me for two weeks! Hn? Is it not so?" - -Then he cast up his arms in despair. - -"Helas! It is my accompaniste. He _is_ not!" - -Jean the direct stepped in. - -"Oh, Mabel will play," she said. - -Herr Slavska took one of his deepest breaths. - -"I say I shall sing to you--I Herr Slavska. Ant you say 'Mabel will -play.' Hn? Mabel? Who is dis grand Mademoiselle Mabel?" - -The humour of it suddenly appeared to come upper-most, and Herr Slavska -became wickedly, cunningly suave. - -"Ah yes, then if mademoiselle will," he said blandly. - -He produced music. - -Mabel was rooted with fear to the couch. Never in her life before had -she been nervous. - -"Jean, how could you," whispered she. - -Oh, fortune and the best of luck! He turned to a song of Brahms'. How -often had Mabel tried to drum that song into the willing but uncultured -Robin! That Robin in his lame way should help her now seemed the -funniest freak of fate. She played the first bars hopefully, joyfully. -She _knew_ she couldn't do anything silly there. - -"But what!" - -Herr Slavska had caught her by the shoulders, and looked in her eyes. - -"Mademoiselle Mabel! From ze country! Mademoiselle plays like zat! -Hn?" - -He bowed grandly. - -"My apologies, Mees Mademoiselle Mabel. We vill haf a rehearsal." - -He sang through part of his programme for a concert. Mabel energetically -remarked afterwards to Jean that she had never really felt heavenly in -her life before. - -"Oh, Jean," she said, "_Jean._" - -"What would you," said Herr Slavska. "You must also study a little Mees -Mademoiselle Mabel. You have great talent. Ah, if you could study in -ze Bohemian school, Mees Mademoiselle. Hav I not said for years to -these stupids stupids public, there is no school like to that of Prague? -Now all ze violinists tumble tumble over ze one another to Sevcik to go. -See, it is ze fate. If you could go to Prague, mademoiselle. Prague -would make a great artiste of you." - -Here was living, wonderful life for Mabel! If Herr Slavska thought so -much of her, why should she not have lessons in London? - -Mr. Leighton never received such a letter as he had from her next day. -If was full of thanks for his having made her play so much and go to -concerts when she was young. "Now I really know the literature of -music. It's the little slippy bits of technique that I'm not up in. I -saw every one of them come out and hit me in the eye when I played for -Herr Slavska. Do you think I could really stay and take lessons, dear -papa? It would prime me for such a lot. I've often thought about -Cuthbert for instance, that it must be so jolly for him to feel primed. -And after knowing life here, I'd only be more contented at home. It -isn't that one can't be bored in London. I think you can far far more -than anywhere. If you saw that girl with the pink bow! She only -dresses and dresses, one costume for the morning, another for the -afternoon and so on. I suppose she has been taught to be a perfect -lady. The girls in our house aren't the crowd that believe in being -like men or anything of that sort. They want to get married if they -meet a nice enough husband. But nobody wants to get left, and it's so -nice to be primed for that. I've sometimes felt I might one day be -'left,' and it's awful. I shouldn't mind so much if I had a profession. -Jean is like a new girl. She's full of breathings and 'my method' and -all that kind of thing. And she has to have an egg flip every morning -at eleven if you please. I'm longing to have a master who orders me egg -flip, but they don't do that for piano, do they? - -"Oh, please, papa, say you don't care for us for six months, and let us -do you some credit at last. We were just little _potty_ players at -Ridgetown...." - -Mr. Leighton took a mild attack of influenza on the strength of this, -but he was infinitely pleased at the enthusiasm of Mabel. Mrs. Leighton -got into the Aunt Katharine mood, where such "goings on" seemed -iniquitous. - -"I don't see why you should pay so much money to keep them out of their -own home," said she. - -By next post, she sent a hamper of cakes to the girls. - -Then came a letter from Mr. Leighton, which Mabel locked in a little -morocco case along with some other treasures, "to keep for ever." - -"I am to stay, and I'm to have lessons from any Vollendollenvallejowski -I like to name," she cried to Jean. The two rocked on a bamboo chair in -happy abandonment till some explosive crackling sounds warned them that -joy had its limits. - -Every girl in the house was invited into the tea "with cakes from home." - -"What a love of a father and a duck of a mother we've got," said the -convalescent homesick Jean. - - - - - CHAPTER XX - - The Shilling Seats - - -Jean owed a great debt to Isobel for having told her of Slavska, and -acknowledged it extravagantly in every letter. Now there was the -difficulty of finding a piano teacher; but here Mabel explained to Jean -as nearly as she could why she could not seek the advice of Isobel. -Isobel, if they knew, already lamented that she had given away Slavska, -it was such an opening to the girls for being independent of her -experience. Herr Slavska would recommend no one in London. - -"They all play for the stupids," he declared. At last in a better mood, -he remembered a certain "Monsieur, Monsieur--Green." - -Mabel laughed at the drop to a plain English name. - -"Ah no! Smile not," said Herr Slavska. "His mother, of the Latin race, -and his father, mark you, a Kelt! What wonder of a result! I will -introduce you to the Sir, Herr, Monsieur Green. He is young, but of -Leschetitzky. I recommend him." - -There seemed nothing more to be said, except that two girls in the club -knew Mr. Green's playing and said that no one else really existed in -London. A great deal underlay Herr Slavska's "I recommend him." - -Mabel met one of the keenest enthusiasts of her life when she met Mr. -Green. - -"Isn't it queer," said Jean afterwards, who, in spite of egg flips and -methods, was in a dejected mood that day, "isn't it queer that an old -boy like Herr Slavska and a young one like Mr. Green should both have -the same delusions. About music, I mean, being so keen on it." - -"You can't call that voice of Herr Slavska's a delusion." - -Mabel had been much impressed by what Mr. Green had said. - -"Mark you, at such an age, there is no voice like Slavska's in -existence. Your sister is fortunate in learning his method." - -"That's what Mr. Slavska said," Jean had answered amiably, and it had -started Mr. Green off on his lessons with Mabel in a cheerful mood. - -"The Herr is not sparing of his compliments when it is himself that is -concerned," he said, laughing loudly. "But he can afford to tell the -truth." - -It seemed lovely to Mabel, this tribute from one man to another. - -"More than your old Slavska said of my man," she told Jean. - -Mr. Green was a distracting teacher. He pulled Mabel's playing down to -decimals. Where she had formerly found her effects by merely feeling -them, he subtracted feeling until she imagined she could not play piano -at all. Then he began to build up her technique like a builder adding -bricks to a wall. - -"You must imagine that you have eaten of the good things of life until -you are a little ill, so that good or bad taste very much alike. Then -you come to me for the cure. I diet you with uninteresting things, -which you do not like, and you imagine I am hard because I do not allow -you to eat. Then one day I give you a little tea and toast. Now, Miss -Leighton, you have worked to curve the third finger a trifle more than -you did. Will you play that study of Chopin which you once performed to -me." - -Mabel had practised dry technique and had kept cheerfully away from all -"pieces" as directed. She played the study. - -"Bravo," said Mr. Green. It was his first encouragement. - -"Why," said Mabel, "how nice it is to be able to play it like that." - -"It is your tea and toast," said Mr. Green. - -Into their hard-working life came delightfully Adelaide Maud. Their -enthusiasm carried her into scenes she had never visited. She attended -concerts in the shilling seats, and took tea once at an A.B.C. The -shilling seats fascinated Adelaide Maud. The composite crowd of girls, -with excited interest; of budding men musicians, groomed and ungroomed, -the latter disporting hair which fell on the forehead in Beethoven -negligence, the dark, lowering musician's scowl beneath--what pets they -all were! Pets in the zoological sense some of them, but yet what pets! -She caught the infection of their ardour when a great or a new performer -appeared. Had any crowd ever paid such homage to one of her set, never! -Fancy inflaming hearts to that extent. Adelaide Maud could feel her -pulses responding. - -"Oh," she said after one of these experiences when they were in Fuller's -and ate extravagantly of walnut cream cake, "it's as much fun to me to -go to these concerts, as it would be for you to--to.----" It dawned on -her that any comparison might not be polite. - -"To go to court," said Mabel. - -"Oh, _have_ you ever been presented?" asked Jean of Adelaide Maud. - -Mabel stared at her. All their life they had followed Adelaide Maud's -career, and Jean forgot that she had been presented. Adelaide Maud -herself might have been a little hurt, but she was only amused. - -"I was--in Queen Victoria's time. I'm an old stager, you know," she -said. - -"Wasn't it lovely," asked Jean, who had once called her past. - -"I don't think so," said Adelaide Maud. "At least I happened to enjoy -the wrong part, that was all. I loved going out with the sunshine -pouring into the carriage and everybody staring at us. It was very hot -and the windows had to be down, and I heard things. One girl said 'Oh, -lollipops, look at 'er 'air. Dyed that is.' Another quite gratified me -by ejaculating in an Irish voice, 'Oh, the darlint.' 'You mustn't,' -said her friend, 'she'll 'ear you.' 'I mean the horses, stupid,' said -the girl. She had her eye on the Life Guards. Mamma was disgusted. But -in the palace it was not nearly so distinguished. Nobody admired one at -all, just hustled one by. I think we were cross all the time." - -"I think it would be lovely to be cross in Buckingham Palace," sighed -Jean. - -They all laughed. Adelaide Maud in particular seemed to be thinking -about something which interested her. - -"Would it be fun for you to see some of the people who are going to the -great ball," she asked. "I don't mean to go to the ball, but Lady Emily -is to be at home for the early part of that evening and some people are -coming in on the way. I asked her if I might have you to dinner--and -she's quite pleased about it." - -Mabel and Jean sat in a blissful state of rapture. ("Lady Emily! The -gorgeous and far-away Lady Emily!") - -"Oh," said Jean, "Elma would say, 'I should be terrified.'" - -"And I should say we'll be perfectly delighted," said Mabel. - -It cost her no tremor at all to think of going. This reminded Adelaide -Maud of Miss Grace's prophecy that there was no sphere in life which -Mabel could not enter becomingly. - -"Put on that pretty pink thing you wore in Ridgetown, lately," she said. - -The name of Ridgetown brought them closer to realities. This was Miss -Dudgeon of The Oaks with whom they ate cream cake. Jean said, "I'm sure -to give the wrong titles. You don't mind I hope." - -"No," said Adelaide Maud. At the same time she was dying with the -desire that they should do her infinite credit. Carefully she thought -over the matter and then spoke. "In any case it's so much a matter of -one's manner in doing it. I remember when Lady Emily was ill once, she -had a very domineering nurse, who tossed her head one time and said to -me, 'I suppose she wants me to be humble and "my lady" her, but not a -bit of me.' Then one of the most distinguished surgeons in England was -called in, and his first words were, 'And how d'ye do, my lady.' He -called her 'my lady' throughout, quite unusual you know, and yet in so -dignified and kind a manner, as though he were saying, 'I know, but I -prefer my own way in the matter.'" - -"What a drop to the nurse," said Mabel. - -Jean looked reflective. - -"Do you know, you've told me something I didn't know," she said. "I -never quite knew how one ought to address Lady Emily. It's so different -at Ridgetown," she exclaimed. - -Adelaide Maud seemed a little confused, but answered heartily. - -"Oh, none of it's a trouble when you really meet people. They are so -much simpler than one would think." - -Mabel saw that Adelaide Maud had given them her first tip. It was -sweetly done, but then----! Anyhow, they had given Adelaide Maud plenty -of tips about getting in early to seats in the Queen's Hall and minor -affairs of that sort. Why shouldn't the benefits work both ways? - -It was about the time of Elma's ball, when they sent the white roses, -and Adelaide Maud said she would help them to choose. - -"I should like to send little Elma a crown of pearls, but I daren't," -said she with a sigh. "She's such a pet, isn't she!" - -"Timorous, but a pet," said Jean with a broad smile. - -"She is holding the fort just now at any rate," responded Mabel. - -They thought it would be all right to tell Adelaide Maud something of -what Elma had written. - -"I trembled, of course," Elma had said; "but the thing had to be done. -I wouldn't for a moment let you think that you couldn't come home and -slip in to the places that belong to you. Isobel would have possessed -the whole house if I hadn't played up. I don't know why she wants to. -It must be so much nicer not to have to bother about servants and table -centres. But she has never squeaked since I spoke about it. In fact, -she won't even speak to me unless some one is about, passes me without a -word." - -"Poor darling," said Adelaide Maud; "what a worm your cousin must be." - -"No, I don't think she's that," said Mabel; "it's just that she simply -must rule, you know. She must have everything good that is going." - -"H'm," answered Adelaide Maud. "Why doesn't that brother of yours go -slashing about a little, and keep her from bullying Elma." - -"Oh, Elma would never tell Cuthbert. Don't you see it mightn't be fair -to prejudice him against Isobel. Isobel thinks such a lot of Cuthbert." - -"Oh." - -A long clinging silence depreciated the conversational prowess of -Adelaide Maud. - -"Well," she said, in a conventional voice, "We've had a lovely day. Let -me know when you are going to another concert. And I shall send you -full particulars about Lady Emily." - -They were walking along Regent Street to find their shop for the -flowers. It seemed that Adelaide Maud was about to desert them. She -beckoned for a hansom and got inside. Mabel and Jean felt that they -said good-bye to Miss Dudgeon of The Oaks. In another second they had -gone on and Adelaide Maud had had her hansom pulled up beside them -again. - -"Jean, Jean," she called, quite radiant again. "I forgot the most -important thing. It's about lessons. Do you think that your -Splashkaspitskoff would condescend to give me some?" - -It was rather mad of Adelaide Maud, but she got out and paid off the -hansom. - -"It isn't so late as I thought it was," she said lamely. But Mabel knew -that she came to make up. - -Jean only thought of the lessons. - -"You will find him so splendid," she said, "and such a gentleman." - -"I like that," said Mabel. "Why--he talks about the most revolting -things." - -"It's his manners that are so wonderful," said Jean in a championing -manner. They had found their shop by this time and were looking at -white roses. When Mabel said, "Do you think these are nice?" Jean might -be heard explaining, "It's the method you know that is so wonderful." - -And when at last they had decided about roses and arranged about the -lessons, Adelaide Maud thought she must immediately buy a hat. - -"I quite forgot that I wanted a hat," she said gravely. - -They went to one of the best shops, and sat in three chairs, with -Adelaide Maud surrounded by mirrors. Tall girls sailed up like swans and -laid a hat on her bright hair and walked away again. Adelaide Maud -turned and twisted and looked lovely in about a dozen different hats. -After looking specially superb in one, she would say. "Take that one -away, I don't like it at all." - -Occasionally the swans would put on a hat and sail about in order to -show the effect. Then Adelaide Maud would look specially languid and -appear more dissatisfied than ever. At last she fixed on one which -contained what she called "a dead seagull." - -"Why you spoil that pretty hat with a dead bird, I can't think," she -exclaimed to the attendant. "Look at its little feet turned up." - -Then, "You must take this bird out, and give me flowers." - -She began pinning on her own hat again. In a second the bird was gone, -and the swanlike personages sailing over the grey white carpet, brought -charming bunches of which they tried the effect "for modom." - -"Oh, do get heliotrope," said Mabel. "It's so gorgeous with your hair." - -Adelaide Maud swung round. - -"And I've been making up my mind to white for the last half-hour. How -can you, Mabel!" - -She chose a mass of white roses, "dreaming in velvet." - -Adelaide Maud rose, gave directions about sending, and prepared to -leave. - -"Don't you want to know the price?" asked Mabel in great amazement. - -"Oh, of course." - -Adelaide Maud asked the price. - -The total took Mabel's breath away. - -"You must never marry a poor man," said she as they passed out. -Adelaide Maud stopped humbly in a passage of grey velvet and silver -gilt. - -"Well, I never," she said. Then walking on, she asked in a very humble, -mocking tone, "Will you teach me, Mabs, how to shop so that I may marry -a poor man." - -Mabel laughed gaily. - -"Thank you," said she. "That sounds as though you think that I ought to -know. Am I to marry a poor man?" - -Adelaide Maud laughed outright, and took her briskly by the arm. - -"I didn't mean that. I believe you will marry a duke. But you see--you -think me so extravagant, and I might have to be poor." - -"That dead seagull going cost you a guinea alone," said Mabel -accusingly. - -"And they kept the seagull," said Adelaide Maud. "How wanton of me!" - -"I've had a very nice hat for a guinea," said Mabel, with a smirk of -suppressed laughter. - -"And yet you won't marry a poor man," said Adelaide Maud. "How unjust -the world is." - -They parted in better form than they had done an hour earlier. - -"Wasn't she queer," said Jean, "to go off like that?" - -"Queerer that she came back," said Mabel. "Do you know what I think? I -believe Adelaide Maud bought that hat simply--simply----" - -"To kill time," said Jean. - -"No. To stay with us a little longer," said Mabel. - -"It's more than any of the Dudgeons ever thought of doing before--if -it's true!" said blunt, robust Jean. - -"But I don't believe it is," said she. "Let's scoot for that bus or -we'll lose it." - -So they scooted for the bus. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - - At Lady Emily's - - -Adelaide Maud found herself possessed of quite a fervid longing. She -wanted to see Mabel and Jean disport themselves with dignity at Lady -Emily's. What had always remained difficult in Ridgetown seemed to -become curiously possible at Lady Emily's, where indeed the highest in -the land might be met. That she might make real friends of the two girls -at last seemed to become a possibility. It was not merely the fact of -Lady Emily's being a "complete dear" that constituted the difference. -It was more the absence of the Ridgetown standards. There were never -upstarts to be found at Lady Emily's. Her own character sifted her -circle in an automatic manner. That which was vulgar or self-seeking had -no response from her. Racy people found her dull, would-be smart -persons quite inanimate. She could no more help being unresponsive to -them than she could help being interested in others whom she respected. -It was a distinguished circle which surrounded her, and those who never -pierced it, never understood how easily it was formed, how inviolately -kept. Occasionally Lady Emily's "tact" was upheld as the secret of her -power. - -"And I have absolutely no tact at all," she would moan. "I simply -follow my impulses as a child would." - -It was the unerring correctness of her impulses which made Adelaide Maud -believe that she would welcome the Leightons. - -Lady Emily had married a brother of Mr. Dudgeon's. Adelaide Maud's -devotion to her father's memory put her uncle into the position of a -kind of patron saint of her own existence. She sometimes thought that -his character supplied a number of these impulses which made Lady Emily -the dear she was. Lady Emily was the daughter of a Duke, and had none -of the aspirations of a climber, her family having climbed so long ago, -that any little beatings about a modern ladder seemed ridiculous. Her -brother was the present duke of course, and "made laws in London," as -Miss Grace used to describe it. This phantom of a duke, intermarried in -a way into her family, had prevented Mrs. Dudgeon from knowing any of -the Ridgetown people--intimately that is. Yet the duke never called, -and Lady Emily wore her dull coat of reserve when in Mrs. Dudgeon's -company. Lady Emily's heart went out, however, to the "golden-haired -girls" who spent their seasons with her in London. - -She was perfectly sweet about the Leightons, and called at the girls' -club in state. What an honour! - -The girls found their ideas tumbling. Lady Emily was much more "easy" -than any one they had met. - -They prepared for the dinner quite light-heartedly. - -After all, it could only be a dream. London was a dream. London in the -early winter with mellow air, only occasionally touched with frost, -glittering lights in the evenings, and crowds of animated people. So -different from the dew dripping avenues of streets at Ridgetown. - -They "skimmed" along in a hansom to Lady Emily's and thought they were -the most dashing persons in London. - -"But it's only a dream, remember," said Jean. - -They went in radiantly through wide portals. Footmen moved out of -adjacent corners and bowed them on automatically. - -Mabel loved it, but Jean for a few agonizing seconds felt over-weighted. - -Then "it's only a dream!" - -They dreamed through a mile of corridor and ran into Adelaide Maud. - -The dream passed and they were chatting gaily at shilling seat gossip, -and that sort of thing. - -Adelaide Maud made the maids skim about. They liked her, that was -evident. Mabel and Jean were prinked up and complimented. - -"You are ducks, you know," said Adelaide Maud. - -They proceeded to the drawing-room. - -Here the point was marked between the time when the girls had never -known Mr. Dudgeon and the time when they did. Mabel never forgot that -fine, spare figure, standing in a glitter of gilt panelled walls, of -warm light from a fire and glimmering electric brackets, of pale colour -from the rugs on the floor. He had the grey ascetic face of the -scholarly man brought up in refinement, and his expression contained a -great amount of placidity. He had dark, scrutinizing eyes, and a kind -mouth, where lines of laughter came and went. Jean approached -tremblingly, for now it suddenly dawned on her that she had never been -informed why the husband of Lady Emily should only be plain "Mr. -Dudgeon." Was this right, or had she not listened properly? Then -Adelaide Maud said distinctly, "Mr. Dudgeon." Jean concluded that it -was their puzzle, not hers, and shook hands with him radiantly. Mabel -only thought that at last she had met one more man who might be compared -to her father. - -They sat down on couches of curved legs and high backs, "the kind of -couches that make one manage to look as magnificent as possible," as -Jean described it. Mr. Dudgeon said Lady Emily was being indulged with a -few moments' grace. - -"It's the one thing we have always to do for Lady Emily," said he, "to -give her a few minutes' grace." He began to talk to them in a quick, -grave manner. - -Jean again informed herself, "It is a dream." - -One would have thought that Mr. Dudgeon was really interested in them -both. And how could he be--he--the husband of the daughter of a duke! -He asked all about how long they had known Adelaide Maud and so on. - -Mabel was not dreaming, however. She sat daintily on the high-backed -couch and told Mr. Dudgeon about the Story Books. - -There they were, only ten minutes in the room, and Mr. Dudgeon, who had -never seen Mabel or Jean before, was hearing all about the Story Books. - -And Adelaide Maud, who had begun to imagine she knew the Leightons, -heard this great fable for the first time in her life. - -"Uncle," she said, "uncle, isn't this sweet, isn't this fame?" - -"It is," said he. - -"Do you wonder that I don't go to the ball?" she asked. "And you've -done this ever since you were children?" she asked. "Made fairies of -us! And I'm 'Adelaide Maud,' am I? Who once called me Adelaide?" She -looked puzzled. "Dear me, if only we had known. And not even Miss -Grace to tell me!" - -"Oh, we bound them over," said Mabel, "and no one else ever heard of -it." - -"She doesn't tell you all," said wicked Jean. "She doesn't tell you -that we sat behind you once at a concert, and Mabel saw, properly you -know, how your blue dress was made." - -"Oh, Jean, Jean," said Mabel. - -"Yes, and had hers made just like it," said Jean. She spread her hands a -little. - -"Rucked down the front, you remember." - -"Oh, I remember," laughed Adelaide Maud. - -"And when you came to call--Mabel couldn't put on her prettiest gown, -because it was just like yours." - -"Oh, Jean," cried Mabel. - -In the midst of some laughter came in Lady Emily. - -"Well," she said in a gentle way, "you people are enjoying yourselves, -aren't you?" - -Adelaide Maud knew then that the day was won for Mabel and Jean. Mr. -Dudgeon was always a certain quality, but Lady Emily--well, she had seen -Lady Emily when people called her "dull." It was wonderful with what -grace Lady Emily adapted herself to the interests of two girls almost -unknown to her. The effect might be gleaned from what Jean said -afterwards. - -"Lady Emily was so sweet, I never bothered about forks or anything. -There was such a love of a footman! I believe he shoved things into my -hands just when I ought to use them. It always worries me to -remember--when I'm talking--just like the figures at lancers, you know, -but here they did everything for one except eat." - -Lady Emily had on a beautiful diamond ornament at her throat, and -another in her hair, and they scintillated in splendour. She wore a -dress of white chiffon for the ball. - -"You insist on dragging me there?" Mr. Dudgeon asked several times. -Whenever a pause occurred in the conversation he said, "You insist on -carrying me off to this ball, don't you?" - -Lady Emily also pretended that she had to go very much against her will. -Mabel and Jean had never seen people set out to balls in this way -before. They themselves had always their mad rush of dressing and their -wild rush in the cloakroom for programmes, and a most enervating pause -for partners and then the thing was done. But Lady Emily and Mr. -Dudgeon tried to pan out the quiet part of the evening as far as it -would pan out. - -Then came a trying time. - -In the drawing-room, quite late, very gorgeous people arrived. Jean was -endeavouring to remember whether or not she took sugar with tea when the -first of them came in. The spectacle made her seize three lumps one -after another, to gain time, when as a fact she never took more than -one. They fell in a very flat small cup of tea and splashed it slightly -in various directions. She was always very pleased to remember that she -didn't apologize to the footman. - -The gorgeous people seemed only to see Lady Emily and to talk to the -electric light brackets. They said the ball was a bore. - -A rather magnificent and very stout personage settled himself near -Mabel. He wore shining spectacles which magnified his eyes in a curious -manner. - -"Hey, what, what," he said to Mabel. "And you aren't a Dudgeon! Hey! -Thought you were one. Quite a lot of 'em, you know. Always croppin' up. -Golden hair, I remember. And yours is brownish. Ah, well. You're a -friend, you say. Quite as good, quite as good. Not going to the ball. -Consider yourself in luck. Not a manjack but says the same. Why they -make it a ball, Heaven knows. Never dance, you know. Hey what! None -of us able for it. Not so bad as levees though. There, imagine -Slowbeetle in white calves. There he is, that old totterer. Yet he -does it. Honour of his country, calls of etiquette and that sort of -thing. You're young, missed a lot of this, eh! Well, it's mostly -farce, y'know. We prance a lot. Not always amusin'. Relief to know -Lady Emily. No prance about her. Hey, what!" - -Adelaide Maud approached. - -"Ah, here we are. Thought you had dyed it. Golden as ever, my dear. -Pleasant to see you again. Why aren't you and this lady goin'? We -could stay. Instead of prancin', eh!" - -The ill humour of having to go to the ball was on all of them evidently. -But this spectacled benignity fascinated Mabel. He again was a -"complete dear." - -"I'm going to steal her," said Adelaide Maud, indicating Mabel, darkly; -"you wait." - -"Hey, what! I'll report. Report to Lady Emily, y'know. Ye've taken my -first partner. Hey, what! Piano? Ah, well. Not in my line, but I'm -with you." - -He actually accompanied them to a long alcove where a piano stood half -shrouded in flowers. Here Adelaide Maud had withdrawn the little party -of Jean, Mabel and herself, that they might look and play a little and -enjoy themselves. - -"Simpkins, more tea," she whispered. "We didn't have half enough." - -It was an admirable picnic. Mabel played "any old thing," as Adelaide -Maud called it, ran on from one to another while they joked and talked -and watched the "diplomatic circles" gathering force in the -drawing-room. The spectacled gentleman sat himself down in complete -enjoyment. - -"D'ye know," he said to Jean in the same detached manner and without any -kind of introduction, "no use at that kind of thing," indicating the -piano, "but the girl can play. Fills me with content. Content's the -word. Difficult to find nowadays. She doesn't strain. Not a bit. She -smooths one down. A real talent. And a child! Hey, what, quite -remarkable." - -Lady Emily came slowly in. Two people talked to her. - -The spectacled gentleman rose, and they listened to him. - -"Don't interrupt, Lady Emily. She's got the floor, y'know. I've heard -prima donnas. Here too. And they didn't smooth me down. Catch a note -or two of this. It gives its effect, hey? Gets your ear. Hey, -what--if we had her in the House there might be hope for the country, -hey, what!" - -Lady Emily was pleased. - -She laid her hand on Mabel's shoulder. - -"Are you liking this?" - -"Oh, it's such a dream, and you are so lovely, Lady Emily, and it -doesn't seem real. So it's very easy to play, you know." - -"I should make them stop talking, but they came for that, you know. And -you are playing so well, it's too pretty an interlude. Helen didn't -tell me that you could play like this." - -"And my new master makes me believe I can't play a note," said Mabel. -"I shall tell him he is quite wrong, because you said so." - -Aunt Katharine's words came to her mind--playing at one end of the -country no better than the other! Ah, well, it was newer, fresher, or -something--taking it either way! - -Of course it came to an end. The girls slipped out with Adelaide Maud -and found the long corridor with the white room containing their wraps -and two attentive maids. They were covered up in their cloaks, and -watched one or two leave before them, as they stood looking down on them -from the staircase. - -"Nobody will miss us," said Adelaide Maud. "They are 'going on,' you -know." - -There was something rather sad in her voice. - -"They all go on to something or somebody, even that dear old Earl -Knuptford, he will pick you at the same place next year that he found -you at to-night, and say, 'Hey, what,' and never think that both he and -you have dropped twelve months out of your lives. It's different at -Ridgetown, isn't it?" - -"Yes, there's nothing to go on to at Ridgetown, is there?" said Jean -grimly. "And nobody to forget or to say, 'Hey, what,' even if they had -never met you before." - -Her world was full of shining diplomats and she had chatted with an -earl. - -Adelaide Maud looked softly after them. - -"Nothing to go on to at Ridgetown," she murmured. "And no one to -forget." - -She smiled softly. - -"Ah! well, it's nice that there's no one to forget." - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - - The Engagement - - -The night at Lady Emily's was by no means a first step into a new and -fashionable world. Mabel and Jean never doubted for a moment that they -were anything but spectators of that brilliant gathering. Even Adelaide -Maud was only a spectator. Lady Emily and her husband were different -from the world in which they moved because they had hobbies and minor -interests which they occasionally allowed to interfere with the usual -routine. Mr. Dudgeon had been known to skip a state banquet for a book -which he has just received. And Lady Emily would make such calls and -give such invitations as resulted in that wonderful little dinner party. -But as for any of her set being interested, why, there was no time for -that. Place something in their way, like Mabel sitting on a couch, part -of which Earl Knuptford desired to make use and one met a "belted Earl." -He became interested and dropped sentences pell-mell on Mabel's -astonished head. For days, Jean dreamed of large envelopes -arriving--"The Earl and Countess of Knuptford request," etc. - -("You donkey, there's no countess," interjected Mabel.) The Earl would -as soon have thought of inviting the lamp post which brought his motor -to a full stop and his Lordship's gaze on it correspondingly. Bring -these people to a pause in front of something, and they might delay -themselves to interview it. But while one is not part of the machinery -which takes them on, there is no chance of continuing the acquaintance. - -Adelaide Maud told them as much. It seemed to Mabel that Adelaide Maud -wanted them to know that though she lived in this world, she was by no -means of it. She enjoyed herself often quite as much in the shilling -seats. Her view of things did not prevent Mabel and Jean from -participating in benefits to be derived from the acquaintance of Lady -Emily. There ensued a happy time when they had seats at the Opera, of -which an autumn season was in full swing, of occasional concerts and -drives, and once they went with Lady Emily and Mr. Dudgeon far into the -country on a motor. For the rest, friends of their own looked them up, -and they had hardly a moment unfilled with practising which was not -devoted to going about and seeing the world of London. The Club -improved with acquaintance, and it was wonderful how the very girls who -annoyed Jean so much on her arrival became part of their very existence. -"We are so dull," she would write home, "because Violet has gone off for -the week end," or "We didn't go out because Ethel and Gertrude wanted us -to have tea with them." - -Adelaide Maud left for home. That was the tragic note of their visit. -Then Cousin Harry turned up with his sister and her husband and offered -to run them over to Paris for Christmas. Here the cup overflowed. -Paris! - -It was a new wrench for Mr. Leighton, who meant to get them home for -Christmas and if possible keep them there. But he knew that a trip with -Mrs. Boyne would be of another "seventh heaven" order, and once more he -gave way. - -"Can you hold the fort a little longer?" wrote Mabel to Elma. - -Elma held the fort. - -She held it, wondering often what would come of it all. She was in the -position of a younger sister to one she did not love. Isobel chaperoned -her everywhere. They had reached a calm stage where they took each other -in quite a polite manner, but never were confidential at all. Mr. and -Mrs. Leighton saw the politeness and were relieved. They saw further, -and lamented Isobel's great friendship with the Merediths. It seemed to -Mr. Leighton that although he would much rather leave the affair alone, -that Isobel was in his care, that she was a handsome, magnificent girl, -and that she ought not to be offered calmly as a sort of second -sacrifice to the caprices of Robin. He spoke to her one evening very -gently about it when they were alone. - -"I thought I ought to tell you," said Mr. Leighton, "that in a tacit -sort of manner, Mr. Meredith attached himself very closely to Mabel. -She was so young that I did not interfere, as now I am very much afraid -I ought to have done. It is a little difficult, you see, for your Aunt -in particular, who is asked on every side, 'I had understood that Mabel -was to marry Mr. Meredith.' I want you to know of course that Mabel -never will marry him now. I should see to that myself, if she had not -already told me that she had no desire to. He is not tied in any way, -except, as I consider, in the matter of honour. I did not interfere -before, but at present I am almost compelled to. I'm before everything -your guardian, my dear. I should like you to find a man worthy of -yourself." - -He had done it as kindly as he knew how. - -Isobel sat calmly gazing past him into the fire. There was no ruffling -of her features. Only a faint suggestion of power against which it -seemed luckless to fight. - -"I knew a good deal of this, of course," she said. - -"Oh." Mr. Leighton started slightly. - -"Yes. But of course there is a similar tale of every man, and every -girl--wherever they are boxed up in a place of this size. Somebody has -to make love to somebody. I don't suppose Mr. Meredith thought of -marriage." - -It seemed as though Mr. Leighton were the young, inexperienced person, -and that Isobel was the one to impart knowledge. - -"In justice to Mr. Meredith, I do not know in the slightest what he -thought. That is where my case loses its point. I ought to have known. -I certainly, of course, think that I ought to know now." - -"Oh," said Isobel. She rose very simply and looked as placid as a lake -on a calm morning. "That is very simple. Mr. Meredith intends to marry -me whenever I give him the opportunity." - -Mr. Leighton was thunderstruck. At the bottom of his mind, he was -thankful now that "his girls" were away. Memories of the stumbling -block which the existence of Robin's sister had before occasioned made -him ask first, "Does Miss Meredith know?" - -He spoke in quite a calm manner. It frustrated Isobel for the moment, -who had expected an outburst. She wavered slightly in her answer. - -"I don't know," she said. - -Mr. Leighton moved impatiently. - -"That is just it," he said. "This young man makes tentative -arrangements and leaves out the important parties to it. Miss Meredith -is quite capable of upsetting her brother's plans. Do you know it?" - -It seemed that Isobel did. It seemed that Miss Meredith was the one -person who could ruffle her. From that day of negligently answering and -partly snubbing her in the train, Isobel had showed a side of cool -indifference to Miss Meredith. - -"I want you to know, Uncle, that I shall not consider Miss Meredith in -the slightest." - -Could this be a young girl? - -"Do you know what Mabel, what all of you did? You considered Miss -Meredith. What were the consequences? She gave Mabel away with both -hands. She wants her brother to marry Miss Dudgeon. He won't marry Miss -Dudgeon. He will marry me." - -She rose slightly. - -"And Miss Meredith won't have the slightest possible say in the matter." - -Mr. Leighton looked rather pale. He flicked quietly the ash from his -cigar before answering her. - -"It's a different way of dealing with people than I am accustomed to. -Will you keep your decision open for a little yet?" - -"I shall, till summer, when we mean to be married." - -There seemed to be no altering the fact that she was to be married. - -"I should be so sorry if, while here with me--with all of us, you did -not find a man worthy of you." - -"I won't change my mind," she said. - -"And Robin?" - -He had returned to the old term. - -"He didn't change his mind before. Miss Meredith did it for him. I am -quite alive to the fact that if Miss Meredith hadn't interfered, and I -hadn't come, he would now be engaged to Mabel." - -Mr. Leighton appeared dumbfoundered. - -"Do you care very much for him?" he asked. - -"Oh, yes." Isobel looked almost helplessly at him. "He isn't the man I -dreamed of, but he is mine, you know. It has come to that." - -She sank on her knees beside him, her eyes blazing. - -"Isn't it an indignity for me, as much as for Mabel, to take what she -didn't want? You say she doesn't want him. At first--oh! I only -desired to show my power. I always meant to marry a wealthier man. But -it's no use. He is a waverer, don't I know it. I see him calculating -whether I'm worth the racket. I see that--I! Isn't it deplorable! But -I mean to make a man of him. He never has been one before. And I mean -to marry him, Uncle." - -Mr. Leighton smoked and smoked at his cigar. He was beginning at last -to fathom the nature that took what it wanted--with both hands. - -"Isobel," he said gently, "let us drop all this question of Mabel. It -isn't that which comes upper-most, now. It's the question of what you -lose by marrying in this way. Don't you know that this dropping of Miss -Meredith, this way of 'paying her out,' you know, well, it may give you -Robin intact; but have you an idea what you may lose in the process? I -don't admire the girl, but--she is his sister. I have never known"--he -threw away his cigar--"I have never yet known of a happy, a really happy -marriage, where the happiness of two was built on the discomfiture of -others. Won't you reconsider the whole position of being down on Miss -Meredith, and paying everybody out who was concerned in Robin's affairs -before you knew him? Won't you try to make your wedding a happiness to -every one--even to Miss Meredith?" - -"Oh," said Isobel, "I don't know that the average bride thinks much of -the happiness of relations. She has her trousseaux and the guests to be -invited, and all that sort of thing." She turned over a book which was -lying near. "I don't think I should have time for Miss Meredith," she -said coldly. - -Mr. Leighton sat quite quietly. - -"Will you be married here?" he asked. - -A gleam came to Isobel's eyes. - -"That would be nice," she said. There was the feeling of an answer to -an invitation in her voice. - -"It's at your disposal," he said, "anything we can do for your -happiness." - -"Is that to show that I do nothing for anybody else's?" Isobel was -really grateful. - -"Perhaps." He said it rather sadly. - -"I might make an endeavour over Sarah," she said. - -"You know, from the first, the day you came in the train, you told us -you had ignored her, hadn't you? She nursed Robin through a long -illness. Saw him grow up and all that kind of thing. Never spared -herself in the matter of looking after him!" - -"Well?" asked Isobel. - -"Well," said Mr. Leighton, "it's rather pathetic, isn't it?" - -The day was won in a partial manner; for Isobel promised she would try -to "ingratiate Sarah." - -"It's the wrong way of putting it, but it may make a beginning," said -Mr. Leighton. - -He further insisted on seeing Robin. That was a bad half-hour for every -one, but for no one so particularly as for Robin. He had evaded so many -things with Mr. Leighton, and for once he found that gentler nature -adamant. - -Nothing went quite so much against this gentler nature as having to -arrange matters for Isobel. So Robin discovered. Yet already it made -what Isobel called "a man of him." He was a man to be ruled, and Mabel -had placed herself under his ruling. Here was the real mischief. -Isobel would take him firmly in hand. - -The girls were greatly mystified, Elma horrified. They had orders to -take the news of Isobel's engagement as though it might be an expected -event, and certainly no sign was given that it was in the nature of a -surprise. Jean could not understand Mabel when the news arrived. She -laughed and sang and kissed Jean as though the world had suddenly become -happy throughout. - -"I thought you would have been cut up," said Jean disconsolately. - -"Cut up! Why they are made for one another," cried Mabel. "Isobel, -calm and firm, Robin, wavering and admiring, nothing could be better. -But oh--oh--I want to see how Sarah takes it." - -They had a particular grind just then, for now they were getting into -spring, and it would soon be time for making that triumphant passage -home of which they had so often dreamed. They lived for that now, but -none lived for it more devotedly than Elma. - -Isobel's engagement cut her further and further away from enjoying -anything very much. She had always the feeling of cold critical eyes -being on her. She often congratulated herself on having got over the -stage where she used long words in quite their wrong sense. Isobel's -proximity in these days would have been dreadful. - -Miss Grace also seemed downhearted. It had been a trying winter for -her, yet no actual evidence of ill-health had asserted itself. She was -concerned about Elma too, who seemed to be losing what the others were -gaining by being away, that just development which comes from happy -experience. Elma plodded and played, but her bright little soul only -came out unfledged of fear at Miss Grace's. - -At last one day Miss Grace's face lit. - -"My dear, your gift is composition." - -Nobody ever had thought of it before. Elma's expression lightened to a -transforming radiance. - -"Oh, I wonder if I ever could get lessons," she cried. - -They discovered a chance, through correspondence. So Elma held the fort, -and tried to grapple single-handed with musical composition. - -"If only I could compose an anthem before Mabel and Jean get home," she -said one day. - -"Heavens, Elma, you aren't going to die?" asked Betty. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - - Holding the Fort - - -Miss Meredith took the news of her brother's engagement in a dumb -manner. An explosion of wrath would have helped every one. Robin might -have appeared aggrieved, and had something of which to complain, and -Isobel's immobility beside some one in a rage was always effective. -Miss Meredith would not rage however. She had met a match for her own -resourceful methods, and at bottom she feared the reserve of power which -prompted Isobel. Under cover of a fine frown she accepted the situation -as Isobel had said she would. What hopes were overthrown by the -engagement, what schemes upturned, no one but Miss Meredith herself -would ever have an inkling. She began to regret her manner of ejecting -Mabel, especially since the London reports told of a Mabel many cuts -above Ridgetown. Miss Dudgeon had opened their eyes. She had come back -in armour, the old Ridgetown armour, and talked in the stiffest manner -of Mabel and Lady Emily, as though all were of a piece. Miss Meredith -ventured to say to her later on that she understood that Mabel was quite -a success in "Society." - -"She always was, wasn't she?" asked Adelaide Maud very simply, as though -she imagined society had really existed in Ridgetown. - -Miss Meredith was a trifle overcast. - -"Oh yes, yes, of course," she said. "But Mabel, of course, Mabel----" - -"Mabel would shine anywhere you mean. That is true. She possesses the -gift of being always divinely natural." - -Adelaide Maud could play up better than any one. Miss Dudgeon ran on to -congratulate Miss Meredith on her brother's engagement. - -"Ah yes, such a charming girl," said Miss Meredith. "He is very -fortunate. We both are, since it relates us to so delightful a family. -We have always been such friends." - -There was a stiff pause. Adelaide Maud could never bring herself to -fill in the pauses between social untruthfulnesses. - -"She is very courageous, we think," ran on Miss Meredith. "Robin will -not be able to give her very much of an establishment, you know. But -that does not grieve her. She has a very even and contented -disposition. I often tell Robin--quite a girl in a hundred! Not many -would have consented so sweetly to an immediate marriage under the -circumstances." - -Ah, then, this might explain to the public the defection of Mabel. -Mabel had expected an "establishment." Miss Dudgeon began to see -daylight. - -"Oh, on the contrary," she said, rising, "we have always looked on Mr. -Meredith as being so well off in respect of being able to get married. -Didn't you tell me once--but then I have such a stupid memory!" - -Miss Meredith recognized where a great slip had taken place. These had -been her words before, "Not many young men are in so easy a position for -marrying!" And to Miss Dudgeon of all people she had just said the -reverse. - -There is a pit formed by a bad memory wherein social untruths sometimes -tumble in company. There they are inclined to raise a laugh at -themselves, and occasionally make more honest people out of their -perpetrators. - -Miss Meredith knew there was no use in any longer explaining Robin's -position, or want of it, to so clear-headed a person as Miss Dudgeon. -The best way was to retire as speedily as possible from so difficult a -subject. - -Mrs. Leighton found the whole affair very trying. She never indulged in -any social doctoring where her own opinions were concerned, and it was -really painful for her to meet all the innuendoes cast at her by curious -people. - -"Oh, Mr. Leighton and I always think young people manage these things -best themselves. They are so sensitive, you know, and quite apt to make -mistakes if dictated to. A critical audience must be very trying. Yes, -everybody thought Robin was engaged to Mabel--but he never was." - -"Well then," said Aunt Katharine, with her lips pursed up to -sticking-point, "if they weren't engaged, they ought to have been. -That's all I've got to say." - -It was not all she had got to say, as it turned out. She talked for -quite a long time about the duties of children to their parents. - -Mrs. Leighton at last became really exasperated. - -"You know, Katharine," she said, "if you are so down on these young -people, I shall one day--I really shall, I shall tell them how you -nearly ran away with James Shrimpton." - -"My dear," said Aunt Katharine. She was quite shocked. "I was a young -unformed thing and father so overbearing----" She was so hurt she could -go no further. - -"Exactly," said Mrs. Leighton. "And my girls are young unformed things, -and their father is not overbearing." - -Aunt Katharine grunted. - -"Ah well, you keep their confidence. That's true. I don't know a more -united family. But this marriage of Isobel's does not say much for your -management." - -That was it--"management." Mrs. Leighton groaned slightly to herself. -She never would be a manager, she felt sure. She offered a passive -front to fate, and her influence stopped there. As for manoeuvring fate -by holding the reins a trifle and pressing backward or forward, she had -not the inclination at any time to interfere in such a way at all. She -leaned on what Emerson had said about things "gravitating." She -believed that things gravitated in the right direction, so long as one -endeavoured to remain pure and noble, in the wrong one so long as one -was overbearing and selfish. She had absolutely no fear as to how -things would gravitate for Mabel after that night when she talked about -Robin and went off to succour Jean. - -She placidly returned to her crochet, and to the complainings of Aunt -Katharine. - -Cuthbert came down that evening, and Isobel, Elma, Betty and he went off -to be grown-ups at a children's party at the Turbervilles. The party -progressed into rather a "larky" dance, where there were as many -grown-ups as children. All the first friends of the Leightons were -there, including, of course, the Merediths. Cuthbert took in Isobel in -rather a frigid manner. He endeavoured not to consider Meredith a cad, -but his feelings in that direction were overweighted for the evening. -He danced with the children, and "was no use for anybody else," as May -Turberville put it. But then Cuthbert was so "ghastly clever and all -that sort of thing," that he could not be put on the level of other -people at all. - -Cuthbert had got his summer lectureship. He told Elma, and then Mr. and -Mrs. Leighton, and then Betty, and Isobel could not imagine what spark -of mischief had lit their spirits to the point of revelry as they ambled -along in their slow four-wheeler. Elma had only one despair in her -mind. Neither Miss Grace nor Miss Annie were well. Miss Annie -particularly seemed out of gear, so much so and so definitely, that for -the first time for nearly thirty years Miss Grace spoke of having in Dr. -Merryweather. - -Cuthbert asked lots of questions. - -"I don't know," Elma generally answered. "She just lies and sickens. -As though she didn't care." - -She raised her hand to her head at the time. - -"Dr. Smith says it's the spring weather which everybody feels specially -trying this year." - -Cuthbert grunted. - -George Maclean came to Elma for the first dance. He seemed in very good -spirits. Elma found herself wondering if it were about Mabel. Well, -one would see. Mabel had always been tied in a kind of a way, and now -she was free! Mr. Maclean anyhow was the best, above all the best. -Even Mr. Symington! When she thought of him, her mind always ran off to -wondering what now might happen to Mr. Symington. - -She had a long, rollicking waltz with Mr. Maclean. They rollicked, -because children were on the floor and steering seemed out of fashion. -Yet he carried her round in a gentle way, because Elma, with her desire -to be the best of dancers, invariably got knocked out with a robust -partner. He carried her round in the most gentle way until the music -stopped with the bang, bang of an energetic amateur. Elma found the -floor suddenly hit her on the cheek in what seemed to her a most -impossible manner. - -"Now what could make it do that?" she asked Mr. Maclean. He was bending -over her with rather a white face. - -Cuthbert came up. - -"Why didn't you tell Maclean that you were giddy?" he said. "He would -have held you up." - -"But I wasn't giddy," said Elma. "I'm not giddy now." - -She was standing, but the floor again seemed at a slant. - -"Steady," said Cuthbert. "You're as giddy as the giddiest. Don't -pretend. Take her off to get cool, Maclean." - -"Cool!" Elma's fingers seemed icy. But there was a comforting, -light-headed glow in her cheeks which reassured her. - -Every one said how well she was looking, and that kept her from -wondering whether she was really going to be ill. George Maclean tried -to get her to drink tea, but for the first time in her life she found -herself possessed of a passion for lemonade. - -"You will really think that I am one of the children," she said, -"because I am simply devoured with a longing for iced lemonade." - -"Well, you shall have iced lemonade, and as much as you want," said -George Maclean. "How I could let you fall, I can't think." There was a -most ludicrous look of concern on his face. - -"I shall grab all my prospective partners for this evening at least," -said Elma. "You can't think how treacherous that floor is." - -She did not dance nearly so much as she wanted to. George Maclean and -Lance and Cuthbert, these three, at least, made her sit out when she -wanted to be "skipping." - -Isobel looked her up on hearing that she had fallen. Cuthbert said, "She -doesn't look well, you know." - -"Why, Elma--Elma is never ill," said Isobel. "Look at her colour too!" - -Towards the end of the evening, they began to forget about it, and Elma -danced almost as usual. Three times she saw the floor rock, but held -on. What her partners thought of her when she clung to a strong arm, -she did not stop to think. It was "talking to Miss Annie in her stuffy -room" that had started it, she remembered. - -She was in an exalted frame of mind about other things. The world was -turning golden. Cuthbert was coming home, Mabel and Jean would soon be -with them, Adelaide Maud was already on the spot. And Isobel would be -gone in the summer. - -Robin Meredith came to ask her for a dance. He seemed subdued, and had -a rather nervous manner of inviting her. So that it seemed easy for her -to be sedate and beg him to excuse her because she had turned giddy. -Anything! she could stand anything on that evening except dance with -Robin Meredith. Her training in many old ways came back to her, -however. - -"I shall sit out, if you don't mind," she said. "Isn't it silly to have -a headache when all this fun is going on?" She found herself being -quite friendly and natural with him. The children were having a great -romp in front of them. - -"Have you a headache?" he asked rather kindly. - -Oh yes, she had a headache. Now she knew. It seemed to have been going -on for years. She began to talk about May Turberville's embroidery, and -how Lance had sewn a pincushion in order to outrival her. When May had -run on to sewing daffodils on her gowns, Lance threatened to embroider -sunflowers on his waistcoats. Had he seen Lance's pictures? Well, -Lance was really awfully clever, particularly in drawing figures. Mr. -Leighton wanted him to say he would be an artist, but Lance said he -couldn't stand the clothes he would have to wear. Mr. Leighton said -that wearing a velveteen coat didn't mean nowadays that one was an -artist, and Lance said that it was the only way of drawing the attention -of the public. He said that one always required some kind of a showman -to call out "Walk up, gentlemen, this way to the priceless treasures," -and that a velveteen coat did all that for an artist. Lance said he -would rather be on the Stock Exchange, where he could do his own -shouting. She said that frankly, with all the knowledge she had of -Lance and his manner of giving people away, she should never think of -entrusting him with her money to invest. She said it in a very high -voice, since she observed just at that minute that Lance stood behind -her chair. - -"Well, you are a little cat, Elma," he said disdainfully. "Here am I -organizing a party in order to let people know that some day I shall be -on the Stock Exchange, and here are you influencing the gully public -against me." - -"I object to the term 'gully,'" said Robin in a laboured but sporting -manner. - -"Well--gulled if you like it better," said Lance. "Only that effect -doesn't come on till I'm done with you. You are to go and dance -lancers, Meredith, while I take your place with this slanderer." It was -Lance's way of asking for the next dance. - -Elma gave a great sigh of relief after Robin had gone. - -"He never heard me say so much in his life before," said she. "He must -have been awfully surprised." - -"How you can say a word to the fellow--but there, nobody understands you -Leightons. You ought to have poisoned him. Or perhaps Mabel is only a -little flirt." - -He wisped a thread of the gauze of her fan. - -Elma smiled at him. She was always sure of Lance. - -"I say, Elma, what are we to do with Mother Mabel when she comes back? -Does she mind this business, or are we allowed to refer to it in a -jovial way?" - -"Jovial, I think," said Elma. "I believe Mabs is awfully relieved." - -She bent over and whispered to Lance. - -"I should myself you know if I had just got rid of Robin." - -Lance laughed immoderately. - -"He's a rum chap," he said, "but he's met a good match in Isobel. Great -Scott, look at the stride on her. She could take Robin up and twist him -into macaroni if she wanted to. I'm sorry for him." - -"What are you going to do for Sarah?" he asked abruptly. - -"Sarah?" asked Elma with her eyes wide. - -"Yes, you'll have to marry the girl or something. It's hard nuts on her. -Why don't you get Symington back and let him make up the quartette?" - -"Mr. Symington?" - -"Yes. It would be most appropriate, wouldn't it? Robin and Isobel, and -Symington and Sarah. It's quite a neat arrangement. You've provided -one husband, why not the other." Several demons of mischief danced in -Lance's eye. - -"Oh, Lance, don't say that," said Elma; "it's so horrid, and--and -common." - -"Oh, it's common, is it," said Lance, "common. And I'm going to be your -stockbroker one day, and you talk to me like this." - -"Look here, Lance, I'd trust you with all my worldly wealth on the Stock -Exchange, but I won't let you joke about Mr. Symington." - -"Whew," said Lance, and he looked gently and amiably into the eyes of -Elma. - -"When you look good like that, I know you are exceedingly naughty. What -is it this time, Lance?" - -"Nothing, Elma, except----" - -"Except----" - -"That I have found out all I wanted to know about Symington, thank you." - -"You are just a common, low little gossip, Lance," said Elma with great -severity. "Will you please get me a nice cool glass of iced lemonade." - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - - The Ham Sandwich - - -Elma lay on her bed in the pink and white room. The first warm spring -sunshine in vain tried to find an opening to filter through partly -closed shutter and blinds. A nurse in grey dress and white cap and -apron moved silently in the half-light created by drawn blinds and an -open door She nodded to Mrs. Leighton who had just come in and who now -sat near the darkened window. The nurse pointedly referred her to the -bed, as though she had good news for her. - -Elma opened her eyes. Their misty violet seemed dazed with long sleep. - -"Oh, mummy, you there?" she asked. - -"Yes," said Mrs. Leighton quietly. - -Elma looked at her inquiringly. - -"Is there anything you want?" asked Mrs. Leighton in answer to that -expression. How often had they asked the same question uselessly within -the past weeks! - -Elma looked up at the white walls. - -"Yes, mummy, there's one thing. I should like a large ham sandwich." - -"There," said Nurse emphatically. "That's it. Now the fight is really -going to begin." - -"I should like to have plenty of butter on it and quite a lot of -mustard," said Elma. - -"Mustard?" said Mrs. Leighton helplessly. "Do you know what's been -wrong with you all these weeks?" - -Elma moved her eyes curiously, there being not much else that she could -move. It had never dawned on her till that moment to wonder what had -been wrong with her. - -"No, mummy," she said, "I haven't a notion." - -Mrs. Leighton looked for instructions to the nurse. - -"She'd better know now, Mrs. Leighton," she said, "now that she begins -to ask for ham sandwiches." - -"You've had typhoid fever, Elma," said her mother. - -Elma sighed gently. - -"Dear me," she said, "how grand. But you don't know how hungry I am or -you would give me a ham sandwich. You ought to be rather glad that I'm -so much better that I want to eat." - -Then an expression of great cunning came into her eyes. - -"I ought to be fed up if I've had a fever," she informed them. - -"We shall get the doctor to see to that," said the nurse. - -She came to her and held her hand firmly. - -"Do you know," she said, "you have been very ill and you are ever so -much better, but nothing you've gone through will worry you so much as -what you've got to do now. You've got to be starved for ten days, when -you are longing to eat. You will lie dreaming of food--and----" - -"Ham sandwiches?" asked Elma. - -"And we shall not be allowed to give them to you," said Nurse. - -"Isn't she nice, mummy, she's quite sorry. And people say that nurses -are hard-hearted," said Elma. - -"I've had typhoid myself," said Nurse briefly. - -Elma looked at her, her own eyelids heavy with sleep still to be made -up. - -"Well, barring the sandwich, what about lemon cheese cakes," she asked. - -Mrs. Leighton let her hands fall. - -"Oh, Elma," she said, "what a thing to choose at this stage." - -"Or sausages," remarked Elma. "I'm simply longing for sausages." - -She endeavoured to throw an appealing look towards Nurse. - -"This isn't humour on my part, mummy dear," she said. "I just can't -help it. I can't get sausages out of my mind," she said. - -"If you would think of a little steamed fish or a soaked rusk, you'd be -a little nearer it," said Nurse, "you'll have that in ten days." - -Elma looked at her in a determined way. - -"I've always been told that a simple lunch, a very simple lunch might be -made out of a ham sandwich. Why should it be denied to me now?" - -"Elma," said Mrs. Leighton, "I never knew you were so obstinate." - -"You know, mummy," said Elma, "I'm not dreaming now. I'm wide awake, -and I'm awfully hungry. I'm sorry I ever thought of sausages, because -ham sandwiches were just about as much as I could bear. Now I've both to -think of, and Nurse won't bring me either." - -"Don't mind her, Mrs. Leighton," said the nurse. "It's always the same, -and, without nurses, generally a relapse to follow. You aren't going to -have a relapse," she said to Elma. - -She gave her some milk in a methodical manner, and the down-dropping of -Elma's eyelids continued till she fell asleep once more. - -So she had slept since the fever had begun to go down. Probably she had -had the best of the intervening weeks. - -There was the slow stupor of a fever gaining ground. It began with the -headache of the Turberville's dance, a headache which never lifted until -Elma returned to her own again, weak and prostrate in bed. The stupor -gradually cut her off from common affairs. It sent her to bed first -because she could no longer stand up, and it crowded back her ideas and -her memory till at last she was in the full swing of a delirium. What -this illness cost Mr. and Mrs. Leighton in anxiety, probably no one -knew. Elma had always covered up her claims to sympathy and petting, -always been moderately well. Here she was with blazing cheeks and -wandering eyes talking largely and at random about anything or every -one. - -Mr. Leighton used to sit by her and stroke her hair. Long years -afterwards, she was to feel the touch of his fingers, hear the tones of -his voice as he said, "Poor little Elma." - -She faded gradually into the delirium which seemed to have cut her -illness in two, the one illness where she lay with dry mouth and an -everlasting headache, the other where she was merely hungry. - -Mrs. Leighton was appalled by the worrying of Elma's mind. She went -through some of her wild dreams with her, calling her back at places by -the mere sound of her voice to a kind of sub-consciousness in which Elma -grew infinitely relieved. - -"Oh, is that you, mummy? Have I really been dreaming?" - -She dreamt of Mabel and she dreamt of Adelaide Maud. But more than any -one, she dreamt of Mr. Symington. Here is where the deceptiveness of a -fever comes in. Elma pleaded so piteously with her mother to bring back -Mr. Symington that Mrs. Leighton awoke to an entirely new and wrong idea -of the state of Elma's affections. - -"It's quite ridiculous, John," said she, "but that child, she was only a -child, seems to have filled her head with notions of Mr. Symington." - -"What! More of it?" asked poor Mr. Leighton. - -"She begs and begs to have him back," said Mrs. Leighton. - -"I've never made out why he left as he did," said Mr. Leighton. "There -was always the idea with me that he cleared out for a reason. But this -small child, why, she hadn't her hair up." - -"She will soon be eighteen," said Mrs. Leighton. - -He went into her room a little later. Elma lay with unseeing eyes -staring at him. He could hardly bear it. - -"Elma," he said vaguely, trying to recall her. - -"Oh," she answered promptly, but still staring, "is that you, -Sym--Sym--Symington!" - -Her father choked down what he could of the lump that gathered, and -moved quietly away. - -These were dark days for every one. Elma had the best of it. She left -the Symington groove after a day or so, and worked on to Isobel. Isobel -invaded her mind. It was a blessing that Isobel was barred by real -distaste to the business from going in to help with the nursing of Elma. -What she said of her pointed to more than a mere dislike. It revolved -into fear as the delirium progressed. Then a second nurse arrived, and -between them the two began really to decrease the temperature. The -first good news came, "Asleep for ten minutes," and after that there was -no backward turn in the illness for Elma. - -Throughout this time there had been the keenest inquiries made as to -what had caused the illness. Cuthbert was down and "made things hum" in -the matter of wakening up the sanitary authorities and so on. But no -flaw in the arrangement of the White House or anything near it could be -discovered. Then Dr. Merryweather called one day. - -"I have another patient in Miss Annie," he said. - -Miss Annie! This gave a clue. - -"Typhoid at her age is unusual," he said, "but she has not developed the -power of resisting disease like ordinary people. She has been in a good -condition for harbouring every germ that happened to be about. I'm -afraid we cannot save her." He turned to Mrs. Leighton. His kind old -face twitched suddenly. - -"Oh, dear, dear," she exclaimed. "What will Miss Grace do? What will -little Elma do?" - -"Miss Grace is all right," said Dr. Merryweather. "I've seen to that. -Elma must not know, of course." - -"This looks like contraction from a common cause," said Cuthbert. "I'll -be at it whatever it is. We don't want any one else sacrificed." - -Dr. Merryweather looked at him gravely. - -"I have just been getting at the tactics of the local government," said -he. "You couldn't believe they could be so prompt in Ridgetown. Three -weeks ago, a gardener living near Miss Annie complained of an atrocious -stench coming from over the railway. It was so bad that when the local -government body at his demand approached it, they had to turn and run. -An open stream had been used as a common sewer and run into the railway -cutting, where it had stagnated. Can you imagine the promptness of the -local government? Evans, the gardener, threatened to report to you, Mr. -Leighton, since your daughter was so ill and had visited so much at Miss -Annie's. They managed to keep his mouth shut, and they have removed the -sewer. Too late for Miss Annie." - -"Too late for my little girl," said Mr. Leighton. - -It seemed an extraordinary thing that the two daughters who had gone -away, and given them so much anxiety, should be coming home radiantly -independent, and Elma, sheltered at home, should be lying just lately -rescued from death. - -The same thought seemed to strike Dr. Merryweather in another -connection. - -"Ah, well," he said, "we would save some gentle souls a lot of suffering -if we could. It's no use evading life, you see, and its consequences. -Death has stolen into Miss Annie's beautiful bedroom, from an ugly sewer -across the way. Nothing we could do for her now can save her." - -Miss Annie died on a quiet morning when Elma lay dreaming of ham -sandwiches. Elma never forgot that, nor how dreadful it seemed that she -had never asked for Miss Annie nor Miss Grace, but just dreamed of what -she would eat. - -"You had had a lot to stand," Nurse told her a week or two afterwards -when she heard about Miss Annie for the first time, "and it's a -compensation that's often given to us when we are ill, just to be -peaceful and not think at all." - -Dr. Merryweather had wakened up Miss Grace finally in a sharp manner. - -"There's that poor child been ill all this time and you've never even -seen her. Take her along some flowers and let her see that you are not -grieving too much for Miss Annie. She won't get better if she worries -about you." - -Then to Elma. - -"Cheer up Miss Grace when she comes. You have your life before you, and -she has had to put all hers behind her. Don't let her be down if you -can help it." - -In this wise he pitted the two against one another, so that they met -with great fortitude. - -"Why, my dear, how pretty your hair is," Miss Grace had burst out. - -Elma was lying on a couch near the window by this time. She looked -infinitely fragile. - -"Oh, Miss Grace, it is a wig," she replied. - -Miss Grace laughed in a jerky hysterical sort of manner. - -"Then I wish I wore a wig," said she. - -Elma smiled. - -"Do you know, that's what they all say. They come in and tell me in a -most surprised manner, "Why, how well you are looking!" and say they -never saw me so pretty and all that kind of thing. And then I look in -my mirror, and I see quite plainly that I'm a perfect fright. But I -don't care, you know. Mabel and Jean know now how ill I've been. I'm -so glad they didn't before, aren't you? It would have spoiled Jean's -coming home like a conqueror. They say she sings beautifully. And oh, -Miss Grace, I've such a lot to tell you. One thing is about Mr. -Symington. You know I never said why he went away. It was because Miss -Meredith made him believe that Robin was engaged to Mabel, and she -wasn't at all. It made her appear like a flirt, you know. Didn't it?" - -Miss Grace nodded. - -"Well, I've been thinking and thinking. I can't tell you how I've been -dreaming about Mr. Symington. Well, now, I've been thinking, 'Couldn't -we invite him to Isobel's wedding?'" - -Miss Grace's eyes gleamed. - -"Fancy Mr. Symington at breakfast at some outlandish place. A letter -arrives. He opens it. 'Ha! The wedding invitation. Robin Meredith, -the bounder!' I beg your pardon, Miss Grace. 'Robin Meredith to -Isobel--what--niece of--why what's this?' What will he do, Miss Grace?" - -"Come to the wedding, sure," said Miss Grace laughingly. - -"Well, if I've to send the invitation myself, one is going to Mr. -Symington." - -Elma had not passed her dreaming hours in vain. - -Besides, Miss Grace had got over the difficult part of meeting Elma -again, and was right back in her old part of counsellor, evidently -without a quiver of the pain that divided them. Yet, they both felt the -barrier that was there, the barrier of that presence of Miss Annie which -had always entered first into their conversations, and now could not be -mentioned. - -Elma thought of the visits that Miss Grace would have to make to her. -She saw that Miss Grace had been warned not to agitate her. This was -enough to enable her to take the matter entirely in her own hands with -no agitation at all. - -"I think you know, Miss Grace, that when one has been so near dying as -I've been, and not minded--I mean I had no knowledge that I was so ill, -and even didn't care much--since it was myself, you know, except for the -trouble it gave to people----" - -Elma was becoming a little long-winded. - -"I want to tell you that you must always tell me about Miss Annie, not -mind just because they say I'm not to be agitated, or anything of that -sort. I won't be a bit agitated if you tell me about Miss Annie." - -"My dear love," Miss Grace stopped abruptly. - -"Dr. Merryweather said----" and she stopped again. - -"Yes, Dr. Merryweather said the same to me, he said that on no account -was I to speak to you of Miss Annie. Dr. Merryweather simply knows -nothing about you and me." - -Miss Grace shook her head drearily. - -"You are a bad little invalid," said she. - -But it broke the ice a little bit, and one day afterwards Miss Grace -told her more than she could bear herself. Dr. Merryweather was right, -Miss Grace broke down over the last loving message to Elma. She had a -little pearl necklace for Elma to wear, and fastened it on without a -word. - -Then came Mrs. Leighton looking anxious. - -"See, mummy, Miss Grace has given me a beautiful little necklace from -Miss Annie." - -All trace of Elma's childish nervousness had departed with her fever. -She had looked right into other worlds, and it had made an easier thing -of this one. Besides, Miss Grace must not be allowed to cry. - -Miss Grace did not cry so much as one might have expected. Miss Annie's -death was a thing she had feared for twenty-eight years, and Dr. -Merryweather had given her no sympathy. He had almost made her think -that Annie ought not to consider herself an invalid. How she connected -typhoid fever with the neurotic illness which Dr. Merryweather would -never acknowledge as an illness, it was difficult to imagine. Certainly, -she had the feeling that Annie in a pathetic manner had justified her -invalidism at last. It was a sad way in which to recover one's -self-respect, but in an unexplained way she felt that with Dr. -Merryweather she had recovered her self-respect. She could refer to -Miss Annie now, and awaken that twitching of his sympathies which one -could see plainly in that rugged often inscrutable face, and feel -thereby that she had not misplaced her confidence by giving up all these -years to Annie. Indeed, the death of Miss Annie affected Dr. -Merryweather far more than one could imagine. As also the sight of -Elma, thinned down and fragile, her hair gone and a wig on. - -He teased her unmercifully about the wig. - -"So long as I look respectable when Mabel and Jean come home! Oh! Dr. -Merryweather, please have me looking respectable when Mabel and Jean -come home." - -Dr. Merryweather promised to have her as fat as a pumpkin. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV - - The Wild Anemone - - -Mabel and Jean had been successfully deceived up to a certain point in -regard to Elma's illness. They were told the facts when the danger was -past. It was made clear to them then that the fewer people at home in -an illness of that sort the better, while skilled nurses were so -conveniently to be had. Mabel pined a little over not having been there -to nurse Elma, as though she had landed her sensitive little sister into -an illness by leaving too much on her shoulders. The independent -vitality of Jean constantly reassured her however. - -"She would just have been worse with that scared face of yours at her -bedside," Jean would declare. "Every time you think of Elma you get as -white as though you were just about to perform in the Queen's Hall. -You'll have angina pectoris if you don't look out." - -Jean had made a great friend of a nurse who never talked of common -things like heart disease or toothache. "Angina pectoris" and -"periostitis" were used instead. When Jean wrote home in an airy manner -in the midst of Elma's illness to say that she was suffering from an -attack of "periostitis," Mrs. Leighton immediately wired, "Get a nurse -for Jean if required." - -"What in the wide world have you been telling mother?" asked Mabel with -that alarming communication in her hand. - -Jean was trying to learn fencing from an enthusiast in the corridor. - -"Oh, well." Her face fell a trifle at the consideration of the -telegram. "I did have toothache," said Jean. - -Mabel stared at the telegram. "Mummy can't be losing her reason over -Elma's being ill," she said. "She couldn't possibly suppose you would -want a nurse for toothache. That's going a little too far, isn't it?" - -Mabel was really quite anxious about her mother. - -"Oh, well," said Jean lamely, "Nurse Shaw said it was periostitis." - -"And you--"--Mabel's eyes grew round and indignant--"you really wrote -and told poor mummy that you had perios--os----" - -"Titis," said Jean. "Of course, I did--why not?" - -She was a trifle ashamed of herself, but the dancing eyes of the fencing -enthusiast held her to the point. - -"That's the worst of early Victorian parents," said this girl with a -bright cheerful giggle. "One can't even talk the vernacular nowadays." - -She made an unexpected lunge at Jean. - -"Oh," cried Jean, "I must answer that telegram. Say I'm an idiot, Mabel, -and that I've only had toothache." - -Mabel for once performed the duties of an elder sister in a grim manner. - -"Am an idiot," she wrote, "only had toothache an hour. Fencing match -on, forgive hurry. Jean." - -She read it out to the fencers. - -"Oh, I say," said Jean with visible chagrin, "you are a little beggar, -Mabel." - -"Send it," cried the fencing girl. "One must be laughed at now and -again--it's good for one. Besides, you can't be both a semi-neurotic -invalid and a good fencer. Better give up the neurotic habit." - -Jean stepped back in derision. - -"I'm not neurotic," she affirmed. - -"You wouldn't have sent that message about your perio--pierrot--what's -the gentleman's name? if you hadn't been neurotic." - -Mabel had scribbled off another message. - -"Well," said Jean gratefully, "my own family don't talk to me like -that." - -"Oh, no," said the fencing girl coolly, "they run round you with hot -bottles, and mustard blisters. All families do. They make you think -about your toothache until you aren't pleased when you haven't got it. -That's the benefit of being here. Here it's a bore to be ill." - -She went suddenly on guard. - -"Oh," said Jean, in willing imitation of that attitude, "if you only -teach me to fence, you may say what you like." - -It was more the importance of Jean's estimate of herself than any real -leanings towards being an invalid which made her look on an hour's -depression as a serious thing, and an attack of toothache as an item of -news which ought immediately to be communicated to her family. She -criticized life entirely through her own feelings and experiences. -Mabel and Elma had enough of the sympathetic understanding of the nature -of others, to tune their own characters accordingly. But Jean, unless -terrified, or hurt, or joyous herself never allowed these feelings to be -transmitted from any one, or because of any one, she happened to love. -It kept her from maturing as Mabel and even Elma had done. She would -always be more or less of the self-centred person. It was a useful -trait in connexion with singing for instance, and it seemed also as -though it might make her a good fencer. But the flippant merry fencing -enthusiast in front of her was right when she saw the pitfall ready for -the Jean who should one day dedicate herself to her ailments. In the -case of Mabel this very lack of sympathy in Jean helped her in a lonely -manner to regain some of her lost confidence in herself. It never -dawned once on Jean that Mabel was fighting down a trouble of her own. -Mabel had bad nights and ghostly dreams, and a headache occasionally, -which seemed as though it would put an end to any enthusiasm she might -ever have had for such an occupation as piano playing. But in the -morning one got up, and there were always the interests, the joys or -troubles, or the quaint little oddities of other girls, to knock this -introspection and worry into the background, and make Mabel her -companionable self once more. It was better, after all, than the -scrutiny of one's own family, even a kind one. Jean was merely -conscious of change in any one when they refused a match or a drive or a -walk with her. The world was of a piece when that -happened--"stodgy"--and the interests of Jean were being neglected--a -great crime. - -Mabel despatched the telegram, and the fencing was resumed with vigour. -The corridor at this end of the house contained a bay window, seated and -cushioned, and more comfortable as a tea-room than many of the little -bedrooms. They had arranged tea-cups, and were preparing that -fascinating and delightful meal when a girl advanced from the far end of -the corridor, in a lithe swinging manner. The fencing girl drew back -her foil abruptly. "Who is that?" she asked, staring. The girls were -conscious of a most refreshing and invigorating surprise. Elsie -Clutterbuck stood there, with the wild sweetness of the open air in her -bearing, her hair ruffled gently, her eyes shining in a pale setting. - -"You beautiful wild anemone!" breathed the fencing girl in a whisper. - -Mabel and Jean heard the soft words with surprise. It was a new light -through which to look on Elsie. They had never quite dropped the pose of -the benignant girls who had taken Elsie "out of herself." To them she -was rather a protege than a friend; much as Mabel at least would have -despised herself for that attitude had she detected it in herself. She -acknowledged an immediate drop in her calculations, when the fencing -girl did not ask as most people did, "Who is that queer little thing?" -It was difficult in one sudden moment to adjust oneself to introducing -Elsie as "You beautiful wild anemone!" - -Jean, however, merely summed up the fencing girl as rather ignorant. -"Why," she said frankly, "I declare it's Elsie!" and in a whisper -declared, "There's nothing beautiful about Elsie." - -They welcomed her heartily, curiously, and wondered if Lance's latest -news of the family was true. - -"Mother Buttercluck," he had written, "has come in for a little legacy. -It's she who clucks now (grammar or no grammar) and the Professor chimes -in as the butter portion merely. May heard about it. Can you imagine -Mrs. C. saying, 'I'd love to have some one to lean on,' and the -Buttercluck, who would have declared before--'On whom to lean. Pray do -be more careful of your English,' not having a cluck left! Though I do -think Elsie had knocked a little of the cluck out before the legacy -arrived." - -Elsie did not seem to be bursting with news. She sat in rather a -grown-up, reliable way, opening her furry coat at their orders, and -drawing off her gloves. Her hair was up in loose, heavy coils on her -neck, and it parted in front with that restless rippling appearance -which made one think of the open air. The tip-tilted nose, which had -seemed the principal fault in the face which had always been termed -plain in childhood, seemed now to lend a piquancy to her features. -These were delicately irregular, and her eyebrows were too high, if one -might rely on the analysis of Jean. - -The fencing girl sat and stared at her with her foil balanced on a -crossed knee. If one wanted to do the fencing girl a real kindness, to -make her radiantly happy, then one introduced her to some one in whom -she might be interested. Life was a garden to her, and the friends she -made the flowers. She was not particular about plucking them either. -"Oh, no indeed," she would say, "I've seen some one in the park to-day -who is more sweet and lovely than any one human ought to be. I should -love to know her, of course, but she was just as great a joy to look at. -Why should you want to have everything that's beautiful? It's merely a -form of selfishness." - -Mabel and Jean imagined that it was more a pose on the part of the -fencing girl than any talent of Elsie's which immediately impressed her -on this afternoon. They were later to discover that a thrill of -expectancy, of interest, was Elsie's first gift to strangers. - -"Oh, no," breathed the fencing girl to herself, "you are not beautiful, -really; you are a personality--that's it." - -Elsie sat pulling her gloves through her white hands. - -"Lance says Mrs. Clutterbuck has a legacy," said Jean bluntly. "I -suppose it's true, but we are never sure of Lance, you know." - -She passed a cup and some buttered toast. - -"Oh, yes, it's true," said Elsie. "I do so envy mamma." - -"Why? Doesn't she--haven't you the benefit of it too?" asked Mabel in -surprise. - -"Oh, yes. It isn't that, you know." Elsie swept forward, with a little -furry cape falling up to her ears as she recovered a dropped glove. -"It's giving papa a holiday. I've thought all my life how I should love -to grow up and become an heiress, and give my papa a holiday." - -"You thought that," asked Jean accusingly. "Come now--when you were -climbing lamp-posts and skimming down rain-pipes----" - -"Yes, and breaking into other people's houses," said Elsie slowly. - -"Did you do that too?" asked Jean. - -"Once," said Elsie dreamily, "only once. I was a dreadful trial to my -parents," she explained to the fencing girl. - -"You weren't spanked enough," said Mabel, shaking her head at her. - -"My papa was too busy, and mamma too concerned about him to attend to -me," smiled Elsie. "Poor mamma! She knew if I told my father what I -did, it would disturb his thoughts, and if his thoughts were disturbed -he couldn't work, and if he couldn't work the rent wouldn't be paid." - -"Oh," said Mabel with memories heaping on her, "had you really to worry -about the rent?" - -The fencing girl began to talk at last. - -"It makes me tired," said she vigorously, "the way in which you people, -brought up in provincial and suburban places, talk. Because you can't -afford to be there unless your fathers have enough money to take you -there, you think there's no struggle in the world. You ought to live a -bit in towns where people are obliged to show the working side as well -as the retired and affluent side. You poor thing, stuck in suburbia, -among those Philistines, and thinking about the rent! I suppose they -only thought you were bad tempered." - -The fencing girl had landed them into a conversation more intimate than -any they had attempted together. - -"Oh," said Elsie, and she looked shyly at Mabel and Jean. "I was a tiny -little thing when I got my first lesson. A lady and her daughter called -on mamma the second week we were in Ridgetown. I came on them in the -garden afterwards. They were going out at the gate, and they didn't see -me coming in. This lady said to her daughter, quite amiably: 'It's no -use, my dear; I suppose you observed they have only one maid.' They -never called again." - -The fencing girl bit her lip with an interrupted laugh. - -"Isn't that suburbia?" she asked. "Now, isn't it?" - -"It made me a little wild cat," said Elsie. "Everybody in Ridgetown had -at least two maids, except ourselves." - -"Do you know," said Jean, "I know the time when we would have wept at -that if it had ever happened to us. It isn't a joke," she told the -fencing girl. - -Elsie gave a long, quiet laugh. "If I ever have children," she said, "I -hope I may keep them from being silly about a trifle of that sort." - -"That's one of the jokes of life though. You won't have children who -need any support in that way. - -"Won't I?" asked Elsie with round eyes. - -"No, they'll all be quite different. They'll be giving you points on -the simple life, and advising you to dispense with maids altogether," -said the fencing girl. "I'm not joking. It's a fact, you know, that -children are awfully unlike their parents. Are you like your mother?" -she asked Elsie. - -"Not a bit," said Elsie laughing. - -"Don't study yourself merely in order to know about children. You may -just have been a selfish little prig, you know," said the fencing girl -cheerily. "Study them by the dozen, be public-spirited about it. Then -some day you may be able to understand the soul of a child when you get -it all to yourself. You won't just sit and say in a blank way, 'In my -day children were different.'" - -"Oh," cried Jean. "Now don't. If there's anything I hate, it's when -Evelyn begins to preach about children." - -"Oh, well," said the fencing girl with a shrug, "if Mrs.----, whatever -your mother's name is, had known as much about their little ways as I -do, she would never have let you worry about that one maid. We are all -wrong with domestic life at present. The one lot stays in too much and -loses touch with the world, and the other lot are too busy touching the -world to stay in enough. We are putting it right, however," she said -amiably. "We are----" She spread her hands in the direction of the -company collected. "We are getting up our world at present. After that -we may be of some use in it." - -Elsie looked at her rather admiringly. - -"My father would love to hear you talk," she said amiably. - -"Talk," said the fencing girl in a fallen voice, "and I hate the talkers -so!" - -"Nevertheless," said Mabel, "given a friend of ours in for tea--who does -the talking?" - -"Evelyn," said Jean, "and invariably her own subjects too." - -It seems that this girl was not always fencing. - -She controlled the collecting of rents and practically managed the -domestic matters in three streets of tenements of new buildings recently -erected in a working part of London. She was also engaged to be -married. - -"Doesn't this sort of independent life unsettle you for a quiet one?" -she was often asked by her friends. - -"And it's quite different," she would explain. "Knowing the stress and -the difficulties of this side of it make me long for that little haven -of a home we are getting ready at Richmond. I would bury myself there -for ever, from a selfish point of view that is, and probably vegetate -like the others. But I've made a pledge never to forget--never to -forget what I've seen in London, and never to stop working for it -somewhere or somehow." - -"What about your poor husband?" asked Jean. - -"He isn't poor," said the fencing girl with a grin. "He is getting quite -rich. He fell in love with me at the tenements. He built them. I -should think he would divorce me if I turned narrow-minded." - -She gazed in a searching way at Elsie. - -"You have the makings of a somebody," she said gravely, "more than these -two, though they are perfectly charming." - -"I want to go to the Balkans," said Elsie. She turned to Mabel. -"Cousin Arthur declared he really would take me." - -"Is Mr. Symington there now?" asked Jean. Mabel thanked her from the -bottom of a heart that couldn't prompt a single word at that supreme -moment. - -"No, but he said he was going some day," said Elsie. That was all. -Mabel had seen a blaze of sunshine and then blackness again. - -"Oh," said the robust, unheeding Jean, "what do your people say to -that?" - -"Papa says he won't have me butchered," said Elsie with a radiant smile. - -"Look here," said the fencing girl, with her eyes still searching that -"wild flower of a face" of Elsie's. "Will your father come and see my -tenements?" - -The answer of Elsie became historic in the girls' club. - -"I think he will," said she. "He was up the Ferris wheel last night." - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI - - Under Royal Patronage - - -Mrs. Leighton made use of the fact of the Clutterbuck's being in London -to write to the Professor's wife. - -"We have been so anxious about Elma, who now however is picking up. But -we have the saddest news of Miss Annie. It seems as though she would -not live more than a day or two. If I have bad news to send to Mabel -and Jean, may I send it through you? It would be such a kindness to me -if I knew you were there to tell them." - -Mrs. Clutterbuck responded in that loving tremulous way she had of -delighting in being useful. She could not believe in her good fortune -with the Professor. After all, it had been worry, concern about material -things, which had clouded his affection for a time. He had never been -able to give himself to the world, as he desired to give himself, -because of that grind at lectures which he so palpably abhorred. Now -even the lectures were a delight, since he had leisure besides where he -did not need to reflect on the certainty of "the rainy day." He was -once more the hero of her girlish dreams. How magnificent not to lose -one's ideal! They both rejoiced in the young ardour of Elsie, whose -courage made leaps at each new unfolding of the "loveliness of life." - -It was very delightful now that the two Leightons should come under -those gently stretching wings of the reinvigorated Professor's wife. - -At the time of a call from Mrs. Clutterbuck, Mabel and Jean had just -received tickets from Lady Emily for a concert at a great house. The -concert, to those who bought guinea tickets, was not so important as the -fact that royal ears would listen to it. Herr Slavska disposed of the -affair in a speech which could not be taken down in words. His theme -was the rush of the "stupids" to see a royal personage, and the tragedy -of the poor "stars" of artists who could hardly afford the cab which -protected their costumes. Yet some members of his profession, he -averred, would rather lose a meal or two than lose the chance of seeing -their name in red letters and of bowing to encores from royalty. - -"And why not?" asked Jean. "I think it would be lovely to bow to -royalty." - -"Where is ze art?" he asked as a wind-up. "Nowhere!" - -"That's nonsense, you know," Jean confided afterwards. "I think there -must be a lot of art in being able to sing to kings and queens. -Besides, why shouldn't they wave their royal hands, and produce us, as -it were--like Aladdin, you know." - -Jean already saw herself at Windsor. - -Mabel merely concerned herself with the fact that Mr. Green was to play. -He had not the scruples of Herr Slavska. "Although it's an abominable -practice," said he. "It is the artists who make the sacrifice. -Everybody else gets something for it. The crowd gets royalty, royalty -gets music, charities get gold. We get momentary applause--that is all." - -"That's what I'm living for," declared Jean, "just a little, a very -little momentary applause. Then I would swell like a peacock, Mabel, I -really should. The artists don't get nothing out of it after all. They -get appreciation." - -Mrs. Clutterbuck was intensely interested in the concert. "Do you mean -to say there's to be a prince at it?" she asked. - -There were to be princesses also, it seemed. - -"Oh," said Mabel, "how lovely it would have been for Elsie and you to -go." - -She saw the experience that it would be for a little home bird of the -Mrs. Clutterbuck type. She considered for a moment--"Couldn't she give -up her ticket for one of them?" - -Mrs. Clutterbuck saw the indecision in her face. - -"No, my dear, no," said she, "I know the thought in your mind. I have a -much better plan." - -The pleasure of being at last able to dispense favours--transformed her -face. She turned with an expectant, delighted look to Elsie. - -"If we could go together," said she, "and it wouldn't be a bore to both -of you to sit with two country cousins like ourselves, I should take two -tickets. It would be charming." - -This plan was received with the greatest acclamation. - -"We ought to have a chaperon anyhow," said Jean. - -It seemed the funniest thing in the world to Mabel that they should be -about to be chaperoned by Mrs. Clutterbuck. In some unaccountable way -it drew her more out of her loneliness than anything she had experienced -in London. On the other hand, she was constantly reminding herself how -much amused some people in Ridgetown would be if they only knew. - -They drove to the concert on a spring day when the air had suddenly -turned warm. The streets were sparkling with a radiance of budding -leaves, of struggling blossom; and all the world seemed to be turning in -at the great gates of the house beyond St. James'. - -It was not to be expected that one should know these people, though, as -Jean declared, "Every little boarding-house keeper in Bayswater could -tell you who was stepping out of the carriage in front of you." - -There was a great crowd inside; heated rooms and a wide vestibule, and a -hall where a platform was arranged with crimson seats facing it and -denoting royalty. - -Mrs. Clutterbuck's timidity came on her with a rush. She could hardly -produce her two tickets. It was Mabel who saved the situation and -piloted them in as though she understood exactly where to go. There was -a hush of expectancy in the beautifully costumed crowd within. -Everybody looked past one with craning neck. Mabel began to laugh. -"It's exactly as though they were built on a slant," she declared. - -In the end they found seats on the stairs beside the wife of an -ambassador. - -"My dear," said Mrs. Clutterbuck in rather a breathless way to Mabel. -"My dear, just think of it." - -Mabel immediately regretted having brought her there. - -"But everybody is sitting on the stairs," she said gravely. "It's quite -all right. Lady Emily told me she once took a seat in an elevator in -somebody's house because there was no room elsewhere. She spent an hour -going up and down, not having the courage to get out." - -Mrs. Clutterbuck smiled nervously. - -"It isn't that, my dear. It's the gown, that one in front of you. -Every inch of the lace is hand-made." - -Mrs. Clutterbuck was quite enervated by the discovery. - -"Oh," said Mabel in quite a relieved way, "was that it? I began to -blame myself for bringing you to the stairs." - -"Isn't it fun?" said Elsie. "Much funnier looking at these people than -it will be looking at royalty. I never saw so many lorgnettes." - -A sudden movement made them rise. A group of princesses with bouquets -appeared and took their seats on the red chairs. - -"Oh," said Jean with a sigh, as they sat down again. "Think of the poor -artists now." - -She had grown quite pale. - -"I don't think I shall ever be able to perform," she said. "My heart -simply stops beating on an occasion of this sort." - -The crowd parted again, and a singer, radiant in white chiffon with -silver embroidery, and wearing a black hat with enormous plumes, -ascended the platform. She curtseyed elaborately to the princesses, and -casually bowed in the direction of the applause which reached her from -other sources. She began to sing, and in that hall of reserved voices, -of deferential attitudes, of eager, searching glances and general -ceremonious curiosity, her voice rang out a clear, beautiful, alien -thing. It danced into the shadows of minds merely occupied with -staring, it filled up crevices as though she had appeared in an empty -room. One moment every one had been girt with a kind of fashionable -melancholy which precluded anything but polite commonplaces. The next -minute something living had appeared, a liquid voice sang notes of joy, -mockery and despair; it lit on things which cannot be touched upon with -the speaking voice, and it brought tears to the eyes of one little -princess. - -Jean was shrouded in longing. Nothing so intimately delicious had ever -come near her. She might as well shut up her music books and say -good-bye to Herr Slavska. Elsie sat beside the lady in real lace. She -was in the woods with the fresh air blowing over her; buttercups and -daisies at her feet. - -"Is she not then charming?" asked a voice at her side. The real lace -had spoken at last. That was how they discovered afterwards that she -was the wife of an ambassador. The lady had her mind distracted first -by the sheer beauty of a famous voice which she loved, next by the -delicate profile of the face beside her--a type not usual in London. - -Elsie turned her eyes with a start. - -"It's like summer, the voice," she said simply. - -"It's like the best method I've ever heard," said Jean darkly. (Oh, how -to emulate such a creature!) - -"Ah, yes. But she returns. And now, while yet she bows and does not -sing--a leetle vulgar is it not?" - -The ambassador's wife could discount her favourite it seemed. That was -just the difficulty in art. To remain supreme in one art and yet -recognize other forms of it, that was the fortune of few. The singer -had enormous jewels at her neck. - -"She would wear cabbage as diamonds," said the lady, "but with her voice -one forgives." - -Thereafter there was a procession of the most talented performers at -that moment in London. Magicians with violins drew melodies in a -faultless manner from smooth strings and a bow which seemed to be -playing on butter. Technique was evident nowhere, only the easy lovely -result of it. In an hour it became as facile a thing to play any -instrument, sing any song, as though practice and discouragement did not -exist in any art at all. - -"Mr. Green played decorously and magnificently," said Elsie. "They are -all a little decorous, aren't they?" she asked, "except that wonderful -thing in the white and silver gown." - -Nothing had touched the daring beauty of that voice. - -Mrs. Clutterbuck leant forward to Elsie eagerly. - -"I was right, Elsie," said she. "You know I was right." - -"Right?" asked Elsie. Her eyes shone with a. dark glamour. "You mean -about it's being so nice here, romantic and that sort of thing?" - -"No," said Mrs. Clutterbuck. She sometimes had rather a superb way of -treating Elsie's little imaginative extravagances. "I mean about -mauve--mauve is the colour this year, don't you see?" - -"Mamma," she said radiantly, "I quite forgot. I was simply wondering -how long all this would last, or whether they'd suddenly cut us off the -way Jean says they do." - -"They do," said Jean, "at these charity concerts. One after another runs -on and makes its little bow. And some are detained, you know, and then -the programme just comes to an end." - -"They seem to be going on all right," said Mrs. Clutterbuck placidly, -"and mauve is the colour, you see." - -Another singer appeared, and Jean's heaven was cleared of clouds by the -evidence in this performer of a bad method. Now, indeed, it seemed an -easy matter to believe that one could triumph over anything. - -That first, victorious, delicious voice had trodden on every ambition -Jean ever possessed. But the frailty of a newcomer set her once more on -her enthusiastic feet. - -"I should say it would be easy enough to get appearing at a concert like -this," she said dimly to Elsie. Her eye was on the future, and the -platform was cleared. At the piano sat Mr. Green, grown older a little, -and more companionable as an accompanist; and in the centre, in radiant -silver and white, and--and diamonds, sang Jean, the prima donna, Jean! - -She was startled by the sudden departure of the ambassador's wife. - -"For the leaving of the princess I wait not," said this lady. With a -cool little nod to Elsie, she descended the crowded stairs. - -Her remarks on the vulgarity of the singer rankled with Jean. The -costume seemed so appropriate to that other fair dream. - -"I didn't think her vulgar, did you?" she asked Elsie. - -"Not on a platform, perhaps," said Elsie vaguely. Her thoughts -invariably strayed from dress. "But in a drawing-room she would look, -look----" - -"Well, what Elsie?" asked Jean impatiently. - -Elsie's dreamy eyes came down on her suddenly. "In a drawing-room she -would look like a lamp shade," she blurted. - -It really was rather a tragedy for them that the golden voice should -have been framed in so doubtful a setting. - -Elsie's eyes were on the princesses. - -"They have eyes like calm lakes," said she. "How clever it must be to -look out and feel and know, only to express very often something -entirely different. Don't you wonder what princesses say to themselves -when they get alone together after an affair of this sort?" - -"I know," said Mabel. "They say, 'I wonder what girls like these girls -on the stairs say of us after we are gone; do they say we are charming, -as the newspapers do, or do they say----' But they couldn't think that, -for they are charming, aren't they?" asked Mabel. - -"Yes," said Elsie sadly. "But I never could keep a bird in a cage. It -must be like being in a cage sometimes for them." - -There was an abrupt movement among the royal party. The last of the -illustrious performers had appeared, and it was time to go. Everybody -rose once more. Then there was a hurried fight for a tea-room where -countesses played hostess. - -Mrs. Clutterbuck, now finally in the spirit of the thing, moved along -blithely. She spoke, however, in low modulated whispers as though she -were attending some serious ceremony. - -"I'm sure your mother would have enjoyed this," she said, as they sat -down to ices served in filagree boats. "The countesses and, you know, -the general air of the thing--so different to Ridgetown." - -"Ridgetown!" The girl laughed immoderately. "We couldn't sit on the -stairs at Ridgetown, could we?" Mrs. Clutterbuck was getting away from -her subject. - -"Take some tea, my dear," she said to Mabel in the tone of voice as one -who should say, "you will need it." "It's invigorating after the ice," -said the Professor's wife. - -Mabel took tea. - -Now that the great event of the concert was over, they were a little -tired, and glad of the idea of fresh air. - -"Miss Grace, dear--have you heard from Miss Grace lately?" asked Mrs. -Clutterbuck. - -"No. It's a funny thing," said Mabel. "We supposed it was because of -Elma's illness, you know. Miss Grace would be in such a state. Shall -we go now?" - -They got out and arranged to walk through St. James' Park together. - -"I had a message," said Mrs. Clutterbuck quietly, "about Miss Grace. I -am to have another when I get back just now. Will you come with me? -It's about Miss Annie. She has been very ill." - -It was impossible for her to tell them that the same illness as Elma's -had done its work there. They seemed to have no suspicion of that. - -"Oh, poor Miss Annie!" said Mabel. "If I had only known!" - -"That was just it; they couldn't tell you that too with all you had to -hear about Elma. Elma is very well now, you understand, but Miss -Annie--well, Miss Annie is not expected to live over to-night." - -The news came to them in an unreal way. It was the break-up of their -childhood. That Miss Annie should not always be there, the charming -beautiful invalid, seemed impossible. - -"Oh, but," said Mabel, "she has been so ill before, won't she get -better?" - -"She was never ill like this before," said Mrs. Clutterbuck. "We will -see what the message says." - -They found a wire at home. At the end of a sparkling day, it came to -that. While they had listened to these golden voices, Miss Annie -had---- - -The telegram lay there to say that Miss Annie had died. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII - - The Home-Coming - - -Mr. Leighton departed from his first feelings of hurry where Mabel and -Jean were concerned, and delayed their home coming till Elma was in a -condition not to be retarded by any extra excitement. - -They drove away at last from the club early in the morning, so that they -had the entire house to see them off. It was very nearly as bad as -leaving Ridgetown. - -"I shall not be able to walk past your door for some days," said one -red-haired girl. "Oh, don't I know that feeling?" - -She was compelled to stay in London, with only a fortnight's holiday in -summer time. - -"I shall send you forget-me-nots by every post," said Jean. "You'll be -in love with the new girl in a week." - -"I won't," said the red-haired girl. - -They had gifts from all of the girls stowed away somewhere. What a -morning! Even the hall porter showed signs of dejection at their going. - -"It will never be the same without you, miss," he said to Mabel. - -One's own family were not so complimentary. - -Mabel and Jean left in a heaped-up four-wheeler. - -"I feel quite sick, you know," said Jean. - -It was a historic statement, and Mabel had her own qualms. They left a -houseful of good little friendly people, a dazzling, hard-working -London, and they were going back--to the wedding of Isobel. Mabel had -not got over the feeling that drama only exists in a brilliant manner in -London, and that life in one's own home, though peaceful, was drab -colour. It wouldn't be drab colour, it would be radiant of course, if -happy unexpected things happened there. How it would lighten to the -colour of rose, oh gorgeous life, if such a thing could ever happen now! -But it wouldn't. All that would happen would be that Robin would marry -Isobel and that she should keep on playing piano. Ah well, in any case, -she could play piano a long way better than she ever did. And Jean -could sing with a certain distinction of method. Not nearly ripe, this -method, as Jean informed every one, but on the way. Her voice would be -worth hearing at twenty-five. - -Much of the effect they would make on Ridgetown was invested in the -boxes piled above them. All their spare time lately had been taken up -in spending their allowance in clothes and panning things neatly out to -London standards. It gave them an amount of reliance in themselves and -in their return which was very exhilarating. Though what did it all -matter with Miss Annie gone? - -"It terrifies me to think of Ridgetown without Miss Annie. What shall -we do there?" asked Jean mournfully. - -"Yes, that's it," replied Mabel. "No one dying in London would make -that difference. I shall think, as we are driving home, Miss Annie -isn't there. Won't you?" - -"And here they would only have a little more time for somebody else," -said Jean. - -They drove through the early morning streets with a tiny relief at their -heart. On their next drive they would know everybody they passed. - -"Oh, how deadly I felt when I came here!" said Jean. "Knowing no one, -and thinking that if I died in the cab no one near me would care!" - -They reached Ridgetown in the afternoon. A carriage was drawn up at the -station gates. In it were Mrs. Leighton, Miss Grace and Elma. - -Mabel stood transfixed. - -"Oh, Elma," she said, "Elma!" - -Elma knew it. She wasn't as fat as a pumpkin after all. And every one -had kept on saying that she was fatter than any pumpkin. Mabel was the -only one who had told the truth. She leaned over the folded hood of the -carriage and hugged her gently. - -"I should like to inform you Mabs, I'm as fat as a pumpkin." - -But Mabel hung on to the carriage with her head down. No one had told -her that Elma had been so ill as this. - -Elma had the look of having been in a far country--why hadn't some one -told her? Miss Grace, who had been away for some weeks with Adelaide -Maud and had just got back in fairly good spirits, did some of the -conversing which helped Mabel to recover herself. - -Cuthbert and Betty came hurrying up from the wrong end of the train. - -"Oh, and we missed you," wailed Betty, "and I wanted to be the first." - -One could hug indiscriminately at Ridgetown Station. Jean was the next -person to melt into tears. She had tried to tell Miss Grace how sorry -she was. - -Cuthbert began to restore order. - -"You'd better take two in that carriage, crowded or not," said he. -"There are boxes lying on the platform which will require a cab to -themselves." - -"It's our music," said Jean importantly and quite untruthfully. - -"It's my new hat," said Mabel, with a return of her old dash. - -She had gone round the carriage seeing each occupant separately, and -there seemed to be no hurry for anything, merely the pleasure of meeting -again. - -Just then there was a whirl of wheels in the distance. A certain -familiarity in the sound made four girls look at each other. Mrs. -Leighton, who had no ear for wheels, stared in a surprised way at her -daughters. - -"Well," she said, "what are we all waiting for? We must get home -sometime." - -"Yes," asked Cuthbert lustily, "what in the wide world are we waiting -for?" - -A high wagonette and pair of horses drove up, and turned with a fine -circle into line behind them. In the wagonette sat Adelaide Maud. -Adelaide Maud was dressed in blue. - -"That," said Elma, with a sigh of great contentment. - -The three girls dashed at Adelaide Maud. - -Elma laid her hand on Cuthbert's. - -"Go and say how do you do to Adelaide Maud," said she. - -For a minute or two she was left with Mrs. Leighton and Miss Grace. -Then Cuthbert came to her. - -"Get up," said he to Elma. "Get up. You're to go with Adelaide Maud." - -"Who is this Adelaide Maud who interferes with every plan in connection -with my family?" asked Mrs. Leighton. She had a resigned note in her -voice. "Shall we ever get home," she kept asking. - -A voice behind them broke in. - -"I didn't tell him to be impolite, Mrs. Leighton," said Adelaide Maud. -"I only asked to have Elma in my carriage." - -Elma looked provokingly at Adelaide Maud. - -"I'm so sorry," said she, "but I'm driving home with Cuthbert." - -"It's not true," said Cuthbert. "She's doing nothing of the kind." - -"Then I shall get in here," said Adelaide Maud calmly, and proceeded to -step in. - -Several people tried to stop her. - -"I want to drive home with mummy," said Jean. - -"And I mean to take Elma," said Mabel. - -Mrs. Leighton leant back in the carriage. - -"I should like to mention," she said, "that this is not a royal -procession, and that we only take about two and a half minutes to get -home in any case. What does it matter which carriage we go in?" - -"Every second is of value," said Jean. - -"Well, here you are, Jean, get in beside your mother," said Adelaide -Maud. "And, Elma and Mabel, you come with me. And, Mr. Leighton, you -look after Miss Grace. What could be more admirable?" - -They did it because it seemed the simplest way out, except Cuthbert, who -backed into the station and came up on a cab with the luggage. He -looked vindictively at Adelaide Maud as he descended, as though he would -say, "This is your doing." - -The three conveyances were blocking the wide sweep of gravel in front of -the White House. - -Adelaide Maud patted one of the horses' heads in an unnecessary manner. - -"I must congratulate you on your professorship," said she. - -"Thank you," said Cuthbert. - -"So nice for your family too, to have you here all summer." - -"Excellent," said Cuthbert. - -"I don't see how you can run a lectureship when you say so little." -Adelaide Maud spoke very crisply, and in a nice cool manner. - -Cuthbert looked stolidly at the men carrying in luggage. - -"The students will respect me probably," he said grimly. - -Adelaide Maud laughed a clear ringing laugh. Then she looked at -Cuthbert once "straight in the eye" and ran indoors. Cuthbert began -pulling boxes about with unnecessary violence. - -They had tea in the drawing-room amidst the roses, for the tables were -covered with them. Mabel did nothing but wander about and say, "Oh, oh, -and isn't it lovely to be home." - -But Jean sat right down and in a business-like manner began to describe -London. Also, she was very sorry for Elma, because now she, Jean, knew -what it was to be ill. She began to detail her symptoms to Elma. - -"Oh, Jean, you little monkey," said Mabel. "Don't listen to her, she -wasn't ill a bit." It was the only point on which Mabel and Jean really -differed. - -Isobel came sailing in. Nothing could have been nicer than the way she -greeted them. - -"Oh, Isobel, aren't you dying to hear me sing?" asked Jean. It never -dawned on her but that Isobel, who had been so keen to get her off to a -good master, put art first and everything else afterwards. - -Mrs. Leighton would never forget the way in which Mabel received her. -Mabs had developed into a finely balanced woman. There was no sign of -her wanting to detract in the slightest from Isobel's happiness. - -"Do let me see your ring. How pretty! And how it fits your hand, just -a beautiful ring. Some engagement rings look as though they had only -been made for fat Jewesses. Don't they? I love those tiny diamonds set -round the big ones. Where are you going for your honeymoon?" - -"I'm going first for my things," said Isobel. "I've got no further than -that. Miss Meredith and I are taking a week in London next week." - -That was her triumph, that she had "squared" Miss Meredith. Miss -Meredith had really a lonely little heart beating beneath all her paltry -ambitions. Always she had been stretching for what was very difficult -of attainment. She had stretched for a wife for Robin, and she had -stretched in vain. Then suddenly one day this undesirable Isobel had -asked her to go to London to help with her trousseaux. No one perhaps -knew what a strange and unlooked-for delight filled her heart, what -gates of starchy reserve were opened to this new flood of gratitude -rising within her. Robin had always, although influenced by her in an -intangible way, treated her as though she were a useful piece of -furniture. He so invariably discounted her services; it had made her -believe that her only chance of keeping him at all was in imposing on -him her hardest, most unlovable traits. That Isobel, of her own accord, -should seek her advice, out of the crowd who were willing to confer it, -really agitated her. From that moment she was Isobel's willing ally. - -Isobel saw here the result of incalculable goodness as encouraged by Mr. -Leighton. His words had stung her to an exalted notion of what she -might do to show him that she could confer as well as receive. She -should "ingratiate Sarah" in a thorough manner. The result of it -surprised her more than she would confess. There were other ways of -receiving benefits than by grabbing with both hands it seemed. Isobel -began to think that unselfish people probably remained unselfish because -they found it a paying business. Nothing would ever really relieve her -mind of its mercenary element. - -The funniest experience of her life was this new friendship with Sarah. -Mr. Leighton noted it, and she saw that he noted it. She went one day -to him in almost a contrite mood. - -"I've begun to ingratiate Sarah," said she, "I believe I'm rather liking -the experience." - -Mr. Leighton knew better than to lecture her at all. He thought indeed -that signs of relenting would not readily occur between either of them. - -"Goodness is an admirable habit," he said lightly. - -She thanked him for having fallen into her mood by this much. - -"Well, anyhow, a little exhibition of it on my part has evidently been a -welcome tonic to Sarah," she said. - -Mabel and Jean found her easier than of yore. Only Elma carried the -reserve formed by what she had gone through into the present moment of -rapture. They made Mabel play and Jean sing, and Adelaide Maud and Jean -performed a duet together. - -Cuthbert pranced about and applauded heavily, and Adelaide Maud swung -her crisp skirts and bowed low in a professional manner. - -"If I can't sing," said she, "I can bow. So do you mind if I do it -again?" So she bowed again. - -It was quite different to the old Adelaide Maud, who aired such starchy -manners in their drawing-room. - -Lance came in by an early train. - -"Heard you were home," said he, "and ran in to see if you'd take some -Broken Hills, or Grand Trunks, or Consolidated Johnnies, you know." - -He produced a note-book. - -"Now Mrs. Leighton promised to buy a whole mine of shares the other day, -and she hasn't done it. How am I to get on with my admirable firm, if -my best clients fail me in this way?" - -Jean exploded into laughter. Lance as a stockbroker, what next! - -"You needn't laugh," he said. "I made twenty-five pounds for the mater -last week. Not your mater, mine!" - -"Don't listen to Lance's illegal practices," said Elma. - -Lance struck an attitude in front of Mabel. - -"Oh, mother," he said, "how you've growed. I'm afraid of you. Wait -till you see what Maclean will say!" - -"Maclean?" - -"Yes. Now, Elma, don't pretend to look blank about it. It was you who -told me." - -Elma groaned. (If it only were Mr. Maclean!) - -"I told you nothing," she said. "You are not to be trusted, I've always -known that, in Stock Exchange or out of it, I'd never tell you a single -thing." - -"Well, it was Aunt Katharine," said Lance with conviction. She had just -appeared in the doorway. - -"Well, well," she said in a fat, breathless way. "Well, you're home, -and I am glad. Dear, how tall you both are! And is that the latest?" -She looked at Mabel's hat. "Well, well. We've had enough trouble with -you away. Elma will be ready for none of that nonsense for a year or -two, that's one comfort. Jean, you are quite fat. Living in other -people's houses seems to agree with you. Not the life we were -accustomed to. Young people had to stay at home in my day." - -"Now, Aunt Katharine," said Lance, who was a privileged person, "are -they your girls, or Mrs. Leighton's, that you lecture them so?" - -"Look here, Lance," said Elma, "Aunt Katharine isn't a Broken Hill, or a -con--consolidated Johnnie. You just leave her alone, will you?" - -"Elma's become beastly dictatorial since she was ill," said Lance -savagely. "What's that confab in the corner?" - -Mrs. Leighton was sitting with Adelaide Maud, and in the pause which -ensued, everybody heard her say, "When Jean was a baby--no, it was when -Elma was a baby, and Cuthbert, you know----" just as the girls were -afraid she would five long years ago. - -"Oh," said Cuthbert from the other end of the room, "my dear mother, if -you go on with that----" - -"I can't imagine why they never want to know what they did when they -were babies," said Mrs. Leighton, in an innocent manner. She disliked -being stopped in any of these reminiscences. Adelaide Maud's eyes -danced. "They were so much nicer when they were babies," sighed Mrs. -Leighton. - -Then she turned round on them all. - -"You two girls have been home for an hour or more, and you never asked -after your dear father." - -Mabel giggled. Jean looked very serious. - -Elma said suddenly, "They are hiding something, mummy," and the secret -was out. - -Mr. Leighton had met them pretty nearly half way. He had travelled with -them, and in town had seen them into the train for Ridgetown. - -"And he told me," said Mrs. Leighton, "that he had an important meeting -which would keep him employed for the better part of the day." - -"So he had," said Mabel. - -"It's just like John," said Mrs. Leighton to Aunt Katharine. "One might -have known he wouldn't stay away from these girls." - -She smiled largely as she remembered his protestations of the morning. - -"Oh, well," said Aunt Katharine dingily, "it would have been nicer of -him to have told you. You never were very firm with John." - -Robin Meredith came in the evening when they were assembled with Mr. -Leighton in the drawing-room and the girls were playing once more. They -played and sang with a fine new confidence and abandonment which made up -to Mr. Leighton for long weary months of waiting. Mabel, mostly on -account of her father's commendation, was quite composed and cheerful as -she shook hands with Robin. Robin would not have minded the composure, -but the cheerfulness wounded him a trifle. Mr. Leighton considered that -his future life had more promise in it now that he saw Robin unnerved. -If it were not for the beautiful ease of Mabel's manner, he should have -felt uncertain as to the consequences of all that had happened. But -Mabel was so serenely right in every way that his last fear melted. - -Mabel herself began to wonder at her own placidity. She looked with -thankfulness on the scene before her, all her family and Elma given back -to her, every one loyal, untouched by the influence which she had so -feared before, Isobel going to be married to a man from whom she was -glad to feel herself freed, her home intact. Yet a bitter mist gathered -in her mind and obliterated the joyousness. How wicked of her--to -complain with everything here so lovely before her. - -No, not everything. - -Mabel, in the darkness that night before falling asleep, held her hand -to her eyes. No, everything had not come back to her yet. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII - - Adelaide Maud - - -The Leighton's had been writing off the invitations for the wedding, and -Elma was in her room with Adelaide Maud. This had been converted into a -sitting-room so long as Elma remained a convalescent. - -Elma had asked Isobel if she might have just one invitation for a -special friend of her own. Now who was this friend, Mrs. Leighton -wondered? She was surprised when Elma asked her, without any -embarrassment for Mr. Symington's address. - -"And don't tell who it is, please, Mummy, because I have a little plot -of my own on hand." - -She sealed and addressed this important missive quite blandly under her -mother's eyes. - -Mrs. Leighton could not make it out. She was inclined to fall into Aunt -Katharine's ways and say, "In my young days, young people were not so -blatant." - -Mr. Leighton shook his head over her having allowed the invitation to -go. - -"You can't tell what net she may become entangled in," he said, "and -Symington cleared out in a very sudden manner, you know." He could not -get that out of his mind. - -Mrs. Leighton harked back to the old formula. "Elma is only a child," -she said, "with too much of a superb imagination. She will have a lot -of fancies before she is done." - -Elma saw her letter posted, with only Mrs. Leighton and Miss Grace in -the secret. She felt completely relieved and happy. Nothing had -pleased her so much for a long time. - -"Why, Elma, your cheeks are getting pink at last," said Adelaide Maud. - -She had come in to spend the afternoon with Elma while the others went -to the dressmaker for the all-important gowns. Adelaide Maud had said -she would come if Elma were to be quite alone. And Elma meant to be -quite alone until Cuthbert came down by an early train. Then, after -Adelaide Maud was announced, she rather hoped that Cuthbert might -appear. - -"Are you sure they are pink," she asked Adelaide Maud, "because I used -to be so anxious that I might look pale." - -"You must have thought yourself very good looking lately then," said -Adelaide Maud. "Elma," she asked suddenly, "why don't you girls -sometimes call me Helen? I think you might by this time." - -"I would rather call you Adelaide Maud," said Elma. - -"But I can't be a Story Book for ever." - -"I shouldn't want to call you Helen when you looked like Miss Dudgeon. -Mrs. Dudgeon wouldn't like it, would she?" - -Ridgetown traditions still hampered their friendship it seemed. - -Adelaide Maud's head fell low. - -"Do you know, Elma, in five minutes, if I just had one chance, in five -minutes I could get my mother to say that it didn't matter whether you -called me Helen or not. But I never get the chance." - -"I did one lovely and glorious thing yesterday," said Elma. "Couldn't I -do another to-day?" - -"I don't know what you did yesterday, but you can't do anything for me -to-day," said Adelaide Maud stiffly. - -Cuthbert came strolling in. Adelaide Maud looked seriously annoyed. - -"You told me you would be quite alone," she said to Elma. - -"Oh, you don't mind about Cuthbert, do you?" asked Elma anxiously. -"Besides, Cuthbert didn't know you were coming." - -"I did," said Cuthbert shortly. - -Adelaide Maud had risen a little, and at this she sat down in a very -straight manner, with her head slightly raised. She and Elma were on a -couch near a tea-table. Cuthbert took an easy chair opposite. Then -Adelaide Maud began to laugh. She laughed with a ringing bright laugh -that was very amusing to Elma, but Cuthbert remained quite unmoved. - -Adelaide Maud looked at him. - -"Oh, please laugh a little," she said humbly. - -Cuthbert did not take his eyes away from her. He simply looked and said -nothing. - -"How are the invitations going on?" he asked Elma as though apparently -proving that Adelaide Maud did not exist. - -Elma clasped her hands. - -"Beautifully. I've been allowed to ask all my 'particulars.'" - -"Am I to be invited?" asked Adelaide Maud simply. - -"Mrs. and Miss Dudgeon," said Elma in a hollow voice. "Do you think -Mrs. Dudgeon will come?" she asked in a melancholy manner. - -"Not if Mr. Leighton looks like that," said Adelaide Maud. She turned -in a pettish manner away from him and gazed at Elma. - -Elma burst out laughing. - -"Oh, Cuthbert, I do think you are horrid to Adelaide Maud." - -Adelaide Maud sat up again looking perfectly delighted. - -"Now there," she said, "I have been waiting for years for some one to -say that about Mr. Leighton. Thank you so much, dear. It's so perfectly -true. For years I have been amiable and for years he has been--a----" - -"A brute," said Elma placidly. - -"Yes," said Adelaide Maud. "And I've got to go on pretending to be a -girl of spirit with a mamma who won't understand the situation, -and--and--I get no encouragement at all. It's a horrid world," said -Adelaide Maud. - -Cuthbert rose from the easy chair, with a look in his eyes which Elma -had never seen. - -"All I can say is," he pretended to be speaking jocularly, "will the -lady who has just spoken undertake to repeat these words, in -private--in----" - -"No, she won't," said Adelaide Maud in a whisper. - -Elma sat shaking in every limb. The one thought that passed through her -mind was that if she didn't clear out, Cuthbert might kiss Adelaide -Maud, and that would be awful. She crawled out of the room somehow or -other. What the others were thinking of her she did not know. She -wanted to reach something outside the door, and sank on a chair there. -Oh, the selfishness of lovers! Adelaide Maud and Cuthbert were "making -it up" while she sat shaking with her face in her hands in the long -corridor. - -Mrs. Leighton found her there some little time afterwards. - -"Sh! mummy. Speak in a whisper, please." - -"Well, I never. Who is ill now, I should like to know?" - -"Adelaide Maud and Cuthbert." - -She pulled her mother's head down to her and whispered in her ear. - -"I didn't know it was coming, they were so cross with one another. And -then I knew it was. And I just slipped out. And I'm shaking so that -I'm afraid to get off this chair. I should never be able to get engaged -myself--it's so--en--enervating." - -"Well, I never," said Mrs. Leighton; "well, I never. Turned you out of -your own room, my pet. Just like those Dudgeons." - -"Oh, mummy, it's lovely. I don't mind. It's just being ill that made -me shake. Aren't you glad it's Adelaide Maud?" - -"Well--it never was anybody else, was it?" asked Mrs. Leighton blandly. - -"Oh, mummy! You knew!" - -Elma's whispers became most accusing. - -Mrs. Leighton might have been as dense as possible in regard to her -daughters, but Cuthbert's heart had always lain bare. - -"Know?" asked she. "What do you think made Adelaide Maud run after you -the way she did?" - -"Oh, mummy. It wasn't only because of Cuthbert, was it?" - -"Well, I sometimes thought it was," she said with a smile at her lips. - -She looked at the shut door. - -"But I can't have you stuck on a hall chair in the corridors for the -afternoon, all on account of the Dudgeons," said she. "Besides, they'll -be bringing up tea." - -She knocked smartly on the door. - -"Mamma, I never saw anything like your nerve," said Elma. - -Cuthbert opened the door. He stood with the fine light of a conqueror -shining in his eyes, the triumph of attainment in his bearing. - -Mrs. Leighton's nerve broke down at the sight of him. It was true then. - -"Oh, Cuthbert, what is this you have been doing?" wailed she. Her son -was a man and had left her. - -Without a word he led her into the arms of Adelaide Maud. - -"And remember, please, Mrs. Leighton," said that personage finally, -"that I would have been here long before if he had let me, and that I -had practically to propose before he would have me. Surely that is -humiliating enough for a Dudgeon." - -"Cuthbert wanted to give you your proper position in life, dear, if -possible." - -"When all I wanted was himself--how silly of him," said Adelaide Maud. - -"Would you mind my telling you that that poor child of mine who has just -recovered from typhoid fever is sitting like a hall porter at your door, -trembling like an aspen leaf," said Mrs. Leighton. "Won't you get her -in?" - -They laughed, but it really was no joke to Elma. She had known something -of the sorrows of life lately, and had borne up under them, even under -the great trial of Miss Annie's death; but because two people were in -love with one another and had said so, she took to weeping. Cuthbert -carried her in and petted her on his knee, and Adelaide Maud stood by -and said what a selfish man he was, how thoughtless of others, and how -really wicked it was of him to have allowed this to happen to Elma. She -stood stroking Elma's hair and looking at Cuthbert, and Cuthbert patted -Elma and looked at Adelaide Maud. Then Cuthbert caught Adelaide Maud's -hand and she had to sit beside them, and then tea came and Elma was -thankful. - -"I know what it will be," she said. "You will never look at any of us -again, just at each other." - -Mrs. Leighton regarded the tea table. - -"It appears," said she, "as if for the first time for years I might be -allowed to pour out tea in my own house. You all seem so preoccupied." - -"Mrs. Leighton," said Adelaide Maud, "you are perfectly sweet. You are -the only one who doesn't reproach me, and I'm taking away your only -son." - -"May I ask when?" asked Cuthbert sedately, but his eyes were on fire. - -"Don't you tell him, Helen," said Mrs. Leighton. "It's good for them not -to be in too great a hurry." - -"She called me Helen," said Adelaide Maud. - -"Now, Elma! Elma--say Helen, or you'll spoil the happiest day of our -lives." - -"Say Helen, you monkey!" cried Cuthbert, giving her a large piece of -cake and several lumps of sugar. - -Elma took her cup and the cake in a helpless way. - -"You just said that to get accustomed to the name yourself," she -declared. "And if you don't mind, I would rather have toast to begin -with." - -Adelaide Maud giggled brightly and her hair shone like gold. Cuthbert -stood looking, looking at her till a piece of cake sidled off the plate -he was carrying. - -"Mummy dear, do you like having tea with me all alone?" asked Elma. - -That was what came of it in many ways. Cuthbert and Adelaide Maud had -not a word for any one. But then they had been so long separated by -social ties and an unfriendly world and "pride," as Helen put it, and -various things. Mrs. Dudgeon took the news "carved in stone," and her -daughters as something that merely could not be helped. Helen had -always been crazy over these Leightons. Mrs. Dudgeon unbent to Mr. -Leighton however. He was a man to whom people invariably offered the -best, and for his own part he could never quite see where the point of -view of other people came in where Mrs. Dudgeon was concerned. Cuthbert -was already sufficiently established as rather a brilliant young -university man, and a partnership in a large practice in town was being -arranged for. Mrs. Dudgeon could unbend with some graciousness -therefore, and, after all, Helen was the eldest of four, and none were -married yet. "Time is a great leveller," said Adelaide Maud. - -All the love and enthusiasm which had been saved from the engagement of -Isobel were showered on the unheeding Cuthbert and Adelaide Maud. - -"It isn't that I don't appreciate it," said Adelaide Maud. "I know how -dreadful it would be to be without it, but oh! somehow there's so little -time to attend to every one who is good to me." - -Isobel, in a certain measure, was annoyed at the interruption to her own -arrangements. In a day things seemed to change from her being the -centre of interest, to the claims of Adelaide Maud coming uppermost. -She looked on the engagement as a complete bore. Robin seemed depressed -with the news. She often wondered how far she could influence him, and -turned rather a cold side to him for the moment. Then her ordinary -wilfulness upheld her serenely. After all, once married to Robin, she -would be independent of the domestic enthusiasms of the Leighton crowd. -She was tired of the pose where she had to appear as one of them, and -longed to assert herself differently as soon as possible. - -As for the girls themselves--what had London or anything offered equal -to this? - -They could not believe in their luck in having Adelaide Maud as a -sister. - -Elma went in the old way to give the news to Miss Grace. - -"Oh, I'm so pleased, my dear, so pleased," said poor lonely Miss Grace. -"It makes up for so much, my dear, when one grows old, to see young -people happy. We are so inclined to be extravagant of happiness when we -are young. Some one ought always to be on the spot to pick up the -little stray pieces we let drop and enable us to regain them again." - -"Weren't you ever engaged to be married, Miss Grace?" Elma asked quite -simply. - -Miss Grace was not at all embarrassed in the usual way of old maids. -She gazed over the white and gold drawing-room, and one saw the spark of -flint in her eyes. - -"Not engaged, dear, but all the inclination to be. Ah, yes, I had the -inclination. And he invited me, but affairs at that time made it -unsuitable." - -"Oh, Miss Grace, only unsuitable?" Elma's heart went out to her. -Beneath everything she knew it must be Miss Annie. - -"Yes, dear. And the others found him different to what I did. Selfish -and dictatorial, you know. Nothing he did seemed to fit in to what they -expected. He grew annoyed with them. I sometimes hardly wonder at that. -It made him appear to be what they really thought him. And in the end I -asked him to go." - -"Oh, Miss Grace!" - -Elma's voice was a tragedy. - -"It was not fair, it was not fair to him or to you. He didn't want to -marry the others. What did it matter what they thought?" - -"If he could have married me then, it wouldn't have mattered," said Miss -Grace. "I knew that he was good and true, you see; so that I never -doubted him. But he was poor, and they worried me nearly to my grave. -I was very weak," said Miss Grace. - -"And I suppose he went and married some one else in a fit of -hopelessness," said Elma tragically. "What a nice wife you would have -made, Miss Grace!" - -Miss Grace started a trifle, and looked anxiously at Elma. She did not -seem to hear the compliment. - -"Oh, we all have our little stories," she said. "But don't be -extravagant of your beautiful youth, my dear." - -"I don't feel youthful or beautiful in any way," said Elma. "I think -it's the fever. I feel as though I had been born a hundred years ago. -I wish I could keep from shivering whenever anything either exciting or -lovely happens. Now, I never was so happy in my life as I was yesterday -over Cuthbert and Adelaide Maud, and I was so shaky that I simply burst -into tears. What's the good of being youthful if one feels like that?" - -"Wait till you have a holiday, dear, you will soon get over that." - -Miss Grace did her best to cheer her up. Elma's thoughts ran back to -the story she had heard. - -"Miss Grace," she asked, "this man that you were engaged to, was he----" - -The door opened and Saunders appeared. - -"Dr. Merryweather," said he. - -Miss Grace rose in a direct manner. She controlled her voice with a -little nervous cough. - -"This is just the person to tell you that you ought to be off for a -change," she said as they shook hands with Dr. Merryweather. - -Miss Grace told him about Elma's shakiness as though it were a real -disease. Mrs. Leighton had never looked upon it as anything more than -"just a mannerism," as Miss Grace put it. Dr. Merryweather ran his keen -eye over Elma's flushed face. - -"You mustn't have too many engagements in your family," he said, "while -you remain a convalescent." - -He had been only then arranging with Mrs. Leighton that she should take -Elma off for a trip. - -"Mr. Leighton will go too," he said kindly. "I don't think any of you -realize how much your parents have suffered recently." - -"Oh, but when?" asked Elma in a most disappointed voice. "Not at once, -I hope." - -"Almost at once," said Dr. Merryweather. "Before this first wedding at -least." - -Elma's face fell a trifle. - -"Oh, well, I suppose I must," she said. "But so much depends on my -being just on the spot--up to Isobel's wedding, you know." - -"I said, 'No more engagements,'" said Dr. Merryweather with his eye -still on her flushed face. - -"This isn't exactly an engagement," said Elma with a sigh. "I wish it -were." - -There was no explaining to Dr. Merryweather of course. There was even -not much chance of enlightening Miss Grace. One could only remain a -kind of petted invalid and await developments. Now that Adelaide Maud -was really one of them and Cuthbert in such a blissful state, it would -seem as though nothing were required to make Elma perfectly happy. But -there was this one trouble of Mabel's which only she could share. For -of course one couldn't go about telling people that Mabel had set great -store by the one man who had run away. - -"If only George Maclean would play up," sighed Elma. - -But almost every one played up except George Maclean. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX - - Mr. Symington - - -Mabel and Jean were to be bridesmaids at Isobel's wedding. Ridgetown -had only one opinion for that proceeding. "It was just like the -Leightons." - -Aunt Katharine was more explicit. - -"It's hardly decent," she said. "Do you want the man to show how many -wives he could have had." - -"To show one he couldn't have, more likely," said Mrs. Leighton shortly. -She herself could not reconcile it to her ideas of what should have -been. Mr. Leighton was adamant on the question, however. Isobel had -set her heart on this marriage and the marriage was to be carried out. -She was their guest and their responsibility. It would be scandalous if -they did not uphold her as they would have done had there been none of -this former acquaintance with Robin. It would seem as though they had -attached unnecessary importance to what now was termed "nothing more -than a flirtation." It was a pity they could not all like Robin as they -ought to, or have been extremely fond of Isobel; but under the -circumstances, they at least must all "play the game." - -Isobel took the information tranquilly. It seemed to her that she might -have been allowed to arrange her own bridesmaids, then she recognized -where the wisdom of Mr. Leighton asserted itself on her side. There was -much less chance of conjecture where she and Mabel showed up in friendly -manner together with one another. She had one friend from London as her -first bridesmaid, and after this the question of dresses obliterated -everything. - -Jean, it is true, had still a soul for other things. She moaned for her -Slavska on every occasion. She rushed to mirrors in agony lest her chin -or throat muscles were getting into disrepair, and she talked already of -having to renew her lessons. - -"You are just like a cheap motor," said Betty at last, "always having to -be done up. Why don't you keep on being a credit to your method like -the expensive machines? They don't rattle themselves to bits in a -week." - -Betty was getting a little out of patience with life. - -"I've had a ghastly time of it," she admitted to Mabel. "All the spunk -is out of Elma, you know, and what with her being ill and Isobel -engaged, I've led a lonely life. And now Jean can't talk of anything -but her Slavska. I hate the man." - -When Jean was not talking about Slavska, she was sending boxes of -flowers to the club girls. Reams of thanks in long letters came by the -morning posts. There was no doubt of the popularity of Jean. - -"I should never be in deadly fear now of having to get on alone in -life," she said. "There's such comfort in girls, you can't think." - -Mabel had always remained a little more outside that radiantly friendly -crowd, yet had quite as admiring a following. Mr. Leighton unendingly -congratulated himself for letting them both have the experience. "Though -never again," he declared, "never again, will I allow one of you away -from home." - -Then occurred Cuthbert's engagement. In a curious way it comforted Mr. -Leighton. He was acquiring another daughter. Adelaide Maud loved that -view of it best of all. - -"If Mr. Leighton had been against me, I should have refused you," she -explained to Cuthbert. - -"You mean that I should," he corrected her. "Now what I am about to -propose----" - -"Are you really going to propose, dear?" asked Adelaide Maud innocently. -Cuthbert grinned. - -"You are to be married to me in the autumn," said he. - -Adelaide Maud cogitated. - -"Well, failing a real proposal, a command of this sort may take its -place. I shall endeavour to be ready for you in the autumn." - -"They are the funniest pair," said Jean; "Helen is so cool and Cuthbert -so domineering! And I used to be so stuck on engagements," she sighed. - -All the girls were in Elma's room, where Isobel tried on some of her -finery. Elma lay on the couch at the window. She had had her trip with -Mr. and Mrs. Leighton, and had come home with some colour and a good -deal more vitality. Yet still there was much to be desired. Dr. -Merryweather thundered out advice about the wedding. - -"She is not to be excited," he kept hammering at every one. Elma felt a -culprit in this respect. Nothing excited her except the one fact which -evidently could not be altered. She had sent an invitation to Mr. -Symington which he had not acknowledged in any shape or form. It seemed -so ignominious. One could imagine that rather splendid and cultured -person saying, "Oh, these young Leightons again! Don't trouble me with -their children's weddings," or something to that effect. She grew cold -as she thought of what Mabel's disgust would be when she heard of the -flag she had held out (what more definite signal to "come on" could any -one have given;) and of his utter disregard of that mild overture. She -grew more and more troubled about it. So much so that Mrs. Leighton -remarked to her husband as each list of acceptances came from home, and -no word of Mr. Symington, "I believe that child is moping because he -does not answer." - -Mr. Leighton was all for the righting that time would accomplish. "She -may forget this, whatever it is, in a day," said he. He said to Elma, -however, "I hear Symington was asked. Shouldn't wonder if he were so -far away that he hasn't had the letter." - -That possibility gladdened her heart immediately. Perhaps after all he -had not yet made his slighting remarks about the Leighton children. The -Clutterbucks also were abroad, so that there seemed no chance of any of -the connection being present. - -Elma finally came home, and they had reached the Saturday afternoon -before the wedding on the following Tuesday. A very finished example of -the London girl had appeared as Isobel's first bridesmaid, and everybody -was chatting incontinently. Jean ran on with her own views of things, -since she usually found these of more interest than anything else. - -"I feel now as though I wouldn't be engaged for a ransom," she said. "I -think of all the men we know and how nice they are, but I don't want to -be married to them." - -"I should hope not," said Isobel. "Why should you!" - -"All right, Isobel, I won't poach. But I'd rather give a concert than -have a wedding." - -It was her latest desire to give a concert in the Bechstein or Eolian -Hall, when her voice was "ripe." She had even consulted an agent. - -"If only papa would see it," she said, "it would cost L60, but I should -get it all back again." - -"Oh, one of these private concerts," said the London girl. - -"Yes," broke in Mabel. "Where you pay L60 to an agent and he looks -after everything including the people with whom you appear. You fill -one part of the hall with your friends, and they fill up the rest. Free -tickets, you know. Then each portion applauds like mad whatever you do. -It all depends on who has most friends who gets the most encores. It is -the duty of the rival crowd to remain silent when their own friend isn't -performing." - -"Oh, Mabel," said Jean. - -"It's true," said the London girl. "And if a critic comes you treasure -him, oh! you treasure him! There are seats and seats waiting for -critics. This one poor man puts it as neatly as he can, Miss So-and-So -sang "agreeably," then he rushes off to the most adjacent hall, and does -the same for the next aspirant to musical honours." - -"And you immediately buy a book for press cuttings," quoth Isobel. - -"And only that poor one goes in." - -"You are the most depressing crowd I ever met," said Jean despairingly. - -"That's not all," said the London girl. "After paying for the other -performers, you may happen to find that they have already paid the agent -in order to appear with you." - -"Oh, I believe a lot, but I won't believe that," said Jean. - -"You may just as well," said the London girl, "because it happened to -me. And it's very good business for the agent." - -"Oh dear," cried Jean. "Do be silent about it then. With you in the -house, do you think my father would ever allow me to give that concert." - -"I sincerely hope he won't," said the London girl heartily. - -Betty sat looking very glum. - -"Why we should all be here discussing Jean's career, when there are far -more important things to think about, I can't imagine. Jean, you might -stop talking of your own affairs for once and help with Isobel's. -Here's another box to be opened." - -Jean stood pulling at the string. - -"Still," she said obstinately, "if you have a voice and a fine method, -and a man behind you like Slavska----" - -"Oh, put her out," wailed Betty. - -A chorus of "Put her out" ensued. Cuthbert, coming in in the midst of -this, without asking for particulars, took Jean in his arms, and carried -her off. - -"I think it's perfectly miraculous the strength that comes to engaged -people," said Betty simply. "Cuthbert couldn't have moved Jean a few -weeks ago." - -They both returned at that moment, looking warm but satisfied. - -"The pater is growling downstairs that he can't get one of you to play -to him nowadays," said Cuthbert. "There are to be no more weddings he -says." - -"Oh, there never is to be no more anything," wailed Betty. "And I'm -only half grown up. You've exhausted papa before one of you have done -anything." - -"Well, let Jean go and rehearse her concert," remarked Isobel calmly. - -"I require a good accompanist," said Jean. - -Elma had been looking out at the window. She heard the gate open, to -four minor notes, containing the augmented fourth of the opening to the -Berlioz "King of Thule," which they all loved. Somebody had said "Oil -that gate," and Mr. Leighton had objected because it reminded him of the -"King of Thule." When Elma heard the magic notes, and looked out at the -window, she could have dispensed with minor intervals for the rest of -her existence. - -Mr. Symington was coming up the drive. - -Oh, Love of our Lives, and now this! She could at last recover from -typhoid fever. - -"I don't think any of you need go down to papa," said she. "There's an -old johnny come to see him." - -The bell rang at that moment. - -Cuthbert approached her. - -"I should fancy," said he, "that with all the good training you have had -from Miss Grace, you would have known better than to talk of old -johnnies. Who's the josser, anyway?" - -"Cuthbert, my darling boy, you are just a little bit vulgar. Cuthbert, -I've never been so happy in my life as I am at the present moment." - -"So long as you don't weep about it, I don't mind," said Cuthbert. - -Elma got up. "I think I could dance," said she. - -"Do," said Cuthbert, and put his arm round her. - -To the dismay of the girls, he swung Elma into the midst of the wedding -trousseaux. Boxes were snatched up, tissue paper sent flying in all -directions. Every girl in the room screamed maledictions on them both. -This was quite unlike Elma, to be displaying her own feelings at the -risk of anything else in the world. They stopped with a wild whirl. - -"Elma wanted to dance," said Cuthbert coolly, "and as she hasn't had any -exercise lately, I thought it would be good for her. Have some more?" -he asked her. - -A demon of delight danced in Elma's eyes. - -"Why, certainly," she said politely. - -There was no holding them in at all. - -Elma had her first real lecture, from Mabel of all people. - -"I think it's very inconsiderate of you, Elma--just when we are so busy. -You might arrange to stop fooling with Cuthbert when these things are -lying about. It isn't fair of you." - -"Oh, Mabs," said Elma, "you don't know! I've been under the clouds so -long--thunder clouds, with everything raining down on me, and hardly any -sunshine at all. And just at the present moment I'm on top of the -clouds, treading on air; I can't describe it. But even although you are -so solemn, and Isobel is so vexed, and Jean is so haughty, and Betty is -simply vicious, why, even in spite of that, I'd like another dance with -Cuthbert." - -Her eyes shone. (Oh, what--what was taking place down stairs?) - -Cuthbert said "Come on," in a wild way. These spirits had been natural -with him just lately. - -But this time five girls intervened. - -"Not if I know it," said Isobel. - -And "Get you to your Adelaide Maud," cried Betty. So there was no more -dancing for Elma just then. - -"However," said she, "for the first time in my life, I think, I'm really -looking forward to Tuesday night." They were to have a dance in honour -of Isobel's wedding. "I think that whether Dr. Merryweather is alive or -dead, I shall dance the whole evening." She began to adopt Jean's -manner. "Do you know," she said to her, "I feel so inspired. I think I -could go and compose an anthem!" (What were they saying downstairs?) - -"Oh," said Betty. "She said that just before she took ill, you know. -And I lay awake at night thinking she would die. Because I asked you, -you know, just in fun, were you going to die because you wanted to write -an anthem." - -"On the contrary," said Elma, "I now want to write an anthem because I'm -about to live." - -"Look here, Elma," said Mabel sedately, "if you don't sit down and keep -yourself quiet, I shall get Dr. Merryweather to come." - -"If he has time," said Isobel drily. - -"Time?" asked Mabel. - -"Yes, before he gets married to Miss Grace." - -That bomb burst itself to silence in the most complete pause that had -fallen on the Leighton family for a long time. They began to collect -their scattered senses with difficulty. Elma thought, "Mr. Symington in -the drawing-room and Miss Grace going to be married! Am I alive or -dead?" - -"Didn't you notice?" said Isobel's calm voice. "Haven't you seen that -Dr. Merryweather's heart is with Miss Grace? You could tell that from -the colour of his gloves. Lemon yellow ever since Miss Annie died." - -"Oh, Isobel," said Mabel gravely. - -Elma remembered her asking, "And Miss Grace, this man, was he----" and -Saunders opening the door and announcing, "Dr. Merryweather." Was this -something more than a coincidence, and was Isobel right? Surely Miss -Grace would have let her know. Then the certainty that Miss Grace would -far more easily let an alien like Isobel know, by reason of her own -embarrassment, than a friend like Elma through frank and easy -confidence, began to convince her. She heard the gate sing its little -song of warning again at that moment. Miss Meredith tripped in. - -Miss Meredith! - -Elma put her head out at the open window. - -"Oh, Miss Meredith, do come upstairs, we've such a lot to show you." - -Sarah came safely up. (Oh the relief!) What if she met Mr. Symington, -and this new castle of cards came tumbling down to more interference -from that quarter. Besides, they were soon going to tea, and Mabel was -still unwarned. Elma discreetly hoped that Mabel would not faint. As -for herself, her shakiness seemed gone for ever. She was a lion, -defending Mabel. - -Miss Meredith floated about the room. "Perfectly sweet," she said one -minute, and "Isn't it a dream?" the next. (What was Mr. Symington -saying in the drawing-room?) - -It came alarmingly near tea-time. Elma made everybody prink up a -little. "We are all such frights," she said, "and there's some old -johnny with papa in the drawing-room." - -"I do believe you know who it is," said Betty, "and won't tell us." She -was in a suspicious mood with society in general. - -"I do," said Elma simply. "It's Mr. Symington." - -Mabel did not faint. She was providentially with her back to the -others, packing a tulle dress in tissue paper just then, and one has to -be very particular with tulle. She was quite collected and calm when she -finished. Miss Meredith was the colour of the Liberty green screen -behind her. Her energy did not fail her in this crisis however. - -"Why, it's nice Mr. Symington comes back," she said. "Is he coming to -the wedding?" - -"He is," said Elma. "He was my 'particular.' I asked Isobel if I might -invite him." - -"Who is he anyway?" asked Isobel, patting her hair gently in front of a -mirror. - -("Oh, Isobel, my friend, if you only knew that," Elma conferred with -herself, "you wouldn't perhaps be the centre of attraction to-day.") - -"He's a man who's great friends with the pater," said Jean -unconcernedly. "He goes abroad a lot and writes up things and develops -photos and has a place in Wales." - -"A place in Wales, how nice!" said the London girl. "But it isn't the -great Mr. Symington, is it?" - -"Why, yes, I suppose it must be," said Jean. - -"Of course it is," said Miss Meredith, socially active once more. "Mr. -Symington is a very famous young man." - -"Good gracious," said the London girl, "my curling tongs at once, -please. These surprises are very demoralizing. Look at my hair." - -They all made themselves beautiful for "the great Mr. Symington." - -Mabel turned a pair of wide eyes on Elma. Elma nodded like a little -mother, with a wealth of smiles at her lips. (Oh, Mabel, play up!) - -Cuthbert had found his mother coming out of the drawing-room. - -"Well, you seem in good spirits," said she, - -"Who is in there?" he asked. - -"Mr. Symington." - -"Oh, it's he, is it?" - -"Why do you ask?" - -"Oh, for no particular reason," said Cuthbert. "Only Elma saw him coming -in and called him an old johnny. I knew something was up." - -"Elma?" asked Mrs. Leighton anxiously. - -"Yes. And she's in great form about something. Haven't seen her so gay -for an age." - -Mrs. Leighton's eyes dropped. "Poor little girl," she said to herself. -She thought it best to proceed upstairs, and break some of the surprise -of Mr. Symington's arrival. - -She found them in a room where boxes were piled in every direction. It -was like her that in her present dilemma she should immediately begin to -reprove them for their untidy habits. - -"This room is really a disgrace," she said. "Just look at all these -boxes! And it's tea-time and not one of you in the drawing-room with -your father, the only afternoon he has too! Elma, what have you been -doing to make your hair so untidy?" - -"My hair is only a wig, and this is my room," said Elma firmly. "For -the last ten minutes I have been trying to get to my own mirror. We are -prinking ourselves up for the great Mr. Symington." - -"Oh," said Mrs. Leighton. "So you know. Well, he only got the -invitation a few days ago, when he was buried in Servia or some -outlandish place. He came right on." - -"For my wedding?" asked Isobel in cool surprise. - -Miss Meredith gazed in a rather frightened manner at every one. - -"No," said Elma. "Not altogether. There were others reasons." She -determined to cut all the ground from under the feet of Sarah. "I -arranged it with Mr. Symington," she said in an important voice. Then, -with the airy manner of the London girl, she patted down the turbulent -wig, which had so annoyed Mrs. Leighton. "He is a perfect duck," she -said lightly. - - - - - CHAPTER XXX - - "Now here there dawneth" - - -The organ in the Ridgetown church pealed in a stately manner the wedding -music from _Lohengrin_. Isobel, the bride, moved with exactitude slowly -down the aisle with her three bridesmaids. Mr. Leighton, presumably -leading her, was compelled to delay himself several times. Who could -have known that the arm lying on his was manipulating matters so -conscientiously! It was inimitably done. Isobel's _entourage_ arranged -itself in perfect order, and knowing that everything was properly -completed, she raised her eyes to those of Robin just as the last chord -sounded. This had been rigorously rehearsed, but nothing could have -been better carried out. The ceremony of marriage commenced. - -There were more dramas played out that day than what Ridgetown called -"the drama" of Mabel's acting bridesmaid to Isobel. Ridgetown was -delightfully curious in noting that Robin, for instance, looked nervous -and disturbed. The darting glances which had so unnerved the Leighton -family long ago, dwelt on Isobel only occasionally. Robin would not be -at his happiest till the ceremony was over. - -Whether by accident or design, Miss Grace, who was unable to join the -wedding party on account of her mourning, came in quietly to church with -Dr. Merryweather. Here was drama enough if one liked to look further as -Isobel had done. Then Mr. Symington had been ordered to be an usher. -The groomsman, a Mr. Clive, a friend of the Merediths, was, of course, -out of the usher part of the business. So Cuthbert and George Maclean -and Lance and Mr. Symington were requisitioned. They had to show in the -guests and give the cue to the organist, and take the bridesmaids out -afterwards. Miss Meredith had been of opinion that they did not require -so many ushers. The girls insisted on four at least. - -Elma was not in the seventh heaven which she had inhabited a few days -before. There was something still unravelled about Mr. Symington's -attitude. - -She was not to know, of course, that he had immediately placed himself -in Mr. Leighton's hands in regard to Mabel. That much-startled person -only thought of another complication--Mabel, when Elma had set her heart -on him! In a disturbed manner he had endeavoured to let Mr. Symington -know that he might find difficulties in the way. He begged, above all -things, that he might not rush matters. - -"Give us time to think a little," he pleaded. "We have had so much of -this sort of thing lately." - -Mr. Symington would have preferred to have had it out then and there. -"You understand," he said, "that I left this unsaid before, because I -thought, in fact I was led definitely to understand that she was engaged -to Meredith, and that my presence here was a trouble to her." - -"Ah, that's it--perhaps," said Mr. Leighton. "It was not because of -Meredith. There may be other reasons." - -Mr. Symington's hopes went down at a rush. - -When the girls crowded into the room for tea, his greeting and Mabel's -consisted of a mere clasp of the hand on either side with no words -spoken at all. But Mabel felt suddenly as though she could face the -world. Was it strength he had given her by the mere touch of his hand? -She could not raise her eyes to let him or anybody else see what was -written there. - -The deadlock puzzled the triumphant Elma. Miss Grace comforted her a -little. "These things always come right--sooner or later." - -These two good friends had not the firmness to probe that remark -further, though Elma was dying to ask about Dr. Merryweather. - -"I'd like to help them," said Elma instead, "but I should feel like the -'tactful woman' that Mr. Maclean was laughing at. He says that when -tactful women write novels they are always making people drop -handkerchiefs in order to help the heroine, or having a friend outside -or something of that sort at the right moment. It made me feel so silly -over sending the invitation to Mr. Symington. Especially," continued -she sadly, "since he doesn't seem to be making much use of it. It's very -enervating to be tactful, especially when your tact doesn't come off." - -Miss Grace looked at her long and kindly. - -"Don't bury your sympathies in the cause of others too much, dear," she -said. "With some of us, with you and me for instance, it might become -more of a weakness perhaps than a real virtue." - -Elma immediately thought, "There is something in what Isobel said after -all." - -Instead of giving voice to it, she said, "I have bothered about Mabs, I -know. But then, I haven't any affairs of my own, you see." - -"Oh, dear child, never be sure, never be too sure about that," said Miss -Grace. - -A delightful feeling stole over Elma. Could it be possible that -anything exciting could ever happen to herself. But no--how could it? - -"I think it's papa always telling us no woman ought to be married until -she's twenty-three that de--demoralizes me so," she said. "And lately, -since Mabs is nearly that age, he is actually running it on to -twenty-five." - -"Yes, but they never really mean it," said Miss Grace. - -"Well, one thing I intend to see to is that Mr. Symington takes Mabel -out of church after the wedding. Sarah wants him. And Sarah is not -going to have him." - -"I think you are quite right there," said Miss Grace. - -Elma got hold of Mr. Symington herself. "I want you to do me a great -favour," she said. "I want you to escort Mabel on Tuesday." - -"It isn't a favour," he said. He pulled his big shoulders together and -looked magnificent. He was browned and tanned with the sun. Only a -slight frown between the eyes to be cleared away and then he would be -the old Mr. Symington. - -"Well, please do it like this. Ask Mabel if you may." - -"Now?" asked Mr. Symington. - -"If you like," said Elma. - -They were on the lawn after dinner, and Mr. Symington in two days had -hardly had a glimpse of Mabel, far less any conversation with her. - -She was talking to Isobel. - -He walked straight up to her. - -"May I escort you out of church on Tuesday?" he asked. - -Mabel looked up in a puzzled way, then her eyes lit with shyness and -something much more brilliant than had been seen in them for a long -time. - -"Yes," she said simply. - -(Could he know how her heart thumped to that quiet "yes"?) - -"Thank you." - -(Oh, after all, after all, could the sun shine after all!) - -Isobel broke in coldly. - -"I had understood from Robin that Mr. Symington would take Miss -Meredith." - -Mabel turned cold. She could not help it, for the life of her, she -could not help it, she turned an appealing glance on Mr. Symington. -This he had hardly required, but it helped him to a joyous answer. - -"Oh, no, Miss Leighton. Some mistake. I'm bound to Miss Mabel." - -Elma strolled up. "It's all because of Cuthbert's insisting on taking -Helen. Cuthbert ought to have taken Mabel. Mr. Clive takes the first -bridesmaid; Mr. Symington, Mabel; George Maclean, Jean." - -"Who takes you?" asked Mr. Symington. - -"Oh, I'm not in the procession," said Elma. - -"Yes, you are." Mabel was quite animated now. "The whole family trails -out in pairs with somebody or another." - -George Maclean strolled up. - -"I shall take Elma," he said. - -"No, you won't! You take Jean." - -"I won't be taken by George Maclean," cried Jean. "He's always horrid to -me." - -"Wire for Slavska," interpolated Betty. - -"Is this my wedding, or whose is it?" asked Isobel. - -They settled everything once more. The real result lay in Mr. -Symington's determination about Mabel. - -He came to Elma afterwards. - -"Is there anything under the sun you want, which you haven't got?" he -asked her. "Because I should like to present it to you here and now." - -That cleared up things incalculably for the wedding. Elma sitting in -front saw only Mabel, and Mabel's face was the colour of a pink rose. -Mr. Symington took her out of church after the wedding, next to the -first bridesmaid. - -Aunt Katharine followed them with her lorgnette. - -"They're a fine couple," she said to Elma. "It's a pity Mabel spoiled -herself with this Meredith man. Mr. Symington might lead her out in -earnest. I always told your mother what it would be." - -There was no squashing of Aunt Katharine. - -Mabel had begun to see land after having tossed on what had seemed an -endless sea. She had been without any hope at all, but it was necessary -to appear throughout as though she had some safe anchor holding her in -port. The joy of delivery was almost more than she could bear. She -became afraid of looking at Mr. Symington. After the arrival of the -guests at the White House, she managed to slip out and disappear -upstairs. Her own room had people in it helping to robe Isobel. She -stole into the schoolroom. Too late of making up her mind, since Mr. -Symington, seeing a trail of pale silken skirts disappear there, tried -the only door open to him on that landing. He found Mabel. - -"Oh," said she blankly. "I wanted to get away--away from downstairs for -a little." - -He had some difficulty in replying. - -"So I noticed," he said. - -They lamely waited. Mabel caught at a window cord and played with it. - -"We ought to go downstairs," she whispered. - -Why she spoke in a whisper she could not imagine. - -Mr. Symington came close to her. - -"Mabs," he said, "just for three minutes I mean to call you Mabs. And -after that--if you are offended--you can turn me off to the ends of the -earth again. You know why I left before." - -She bent her head a little. - -"You didn't want me to go? You didn't want me to go! Say that much, -won't you?" - -She could not answer. - -"I know what it means if you do," he said. "Oh don't I know what it -means? Mabs, I'm going to make you care for me--as I do for you--can -you possibly imagine how much I care for you--why won't you speak to -me?" - -Mabel never spoke to him at all. - -He happened to take her hand just then, and the same confidence which -had so strangely come to her a few days ago on his arrival, came to her -once more. He took her hand, and time stood still. - -Somebody outside, a vague time afterwards, called for Mabel. It dawned -on them both that they were attending Isobel's wedding. - -"We ought to go downstairs," whispered Mabel. - -Her conversation was certainly very limited. They both smiled as they -noticed this, a comprehensive, understanding, oh! a different smile to -any they had ever allowed themselves. - -"We will, when you've just once--Mabs--look up at me. Now--once." - -Time stood still once more, but it took the last of the frown from -between the eyes of Mr. Symington. - -"Now for Isobel's wedding party," cried he. - -Mr. Leighton was stunned a little with the news. "Only one stipulation," -said he. "I want to tell Elma myself." - -Mabel was terribly disappointed. - -"Oh, papa--of all people--I wanted to tell Elma." - -He was adamant however, even when Mr. Symington added his requests. - -"You've interfered seriously enough between me and one of my daughters," -Mr. Leighton said severely. "Leave me the other." - -So nothing was mentioned until Mr. Leighton should tell Elma. Mrs. -Leighton was nervous about the whole thing, yet in an underhand way very -proud of Mabel. - -"I can't see that any of you are at all suited to be the wife of a man -like Mr. Symington," she said to Mabel pessimistically. "But your -father thinks it is all right." She had had rather a long day with Aunt -Katharine. - -Elma saw that the clouds had lifted where Mabel was concerned, and Mr. -Symington was in magnificent spirits. She thought they might have told -her something, but she was sent to lie down with no news at all until -the dance in the evening. Isobel left regally. There was not much of -the usual scrimmage of a wedding-leave-taking about her departure. Her -toque and costume were irreproachable. Miss Meredith attended her -dutifully, as though she were a bridesmaid herself. But with Robin she -had felt too motherly for that. Indeed, some new qualities in Miss -Meredith seemed to be coming uppermost. - -Dancing was in full swing in the evening when Mr. Leighton methodically -put on an overcoat and took Elma to sit out in the verandah. "It is to -prevent your dancing too much," he told her. - -Elma had the feeling of being manipulated as she had been when she was -ill. What did all this mystery mean? She tucked in readily enough -beside her father. The night was warm, with a clear moon, and the -lights from the drawing-room and on the balcony shed pretty patches of -colour on her white dress and cloak. - -Mr. Leighton began to talk of Adelaide Maud of all people. She was -there, with her sisters. They had at last dropped the armour of -etiquette which had prevented more than one from ever appearing at the -Leightons. - -"I don't suppose any of you really know what that girl has come -through," said Mr. Leighton. "All these years it has gone on. A -constant criticism, you know. Mrs. Dudgeon found out long ago about -Cuthbert, and what Cuthbert calls 'roasted' her continually. Adelaide -Maud remained the fine magnificently true girl she is to-day. That is a -difficult matter when one's own family openly despises the people one -has set one's heart on. She never gave a sign of giving in either -way--did she?" - -"Not a sign," said Elma. "Adelaide Maud is a delicious brick, she -always has been. The Story Books have come true at last." - -"It does not sound like being in battle," said Mr. Leighton, in a -pertinacious way. "But a battle of that sort is far more real than many -of the fights we back up in a public manner. One relieves the poor, and -you girls give concerts for hospitals, but who can give a concert to -relieve the like of the trouble that Adelaide Maud has gone through? -She never wavered." - -Elma thought of another fight--should she tell her father? - -"We talk about Ridgetown being a slow place, but what a drama can be -lived through here!" went on Mr. Leighton. "Isobel, for instance, -thinks there's nothing in life unless one attends fifty balls a month. -Yet she lived her little drama in Ridgetown. And she has learned to be -civil to Miss Meredith. There's another fight for you. It cost her -several pangs, let me tell you." - -("What did it all lead to?" thought Elma.) - -"Oh, there were other fights too, papa, but one I think is over. Have -you seen Mabel's face to-night?" - -Mr. Leighton started. - -Elma required some sort of confidant, "or I shall explode or something," -she explained. She told her father about Mr. Symington. - -"And I've been worrying so because it seemed so sad about Mabel. And -she never gave it away, did she? And when you all thought so much of -Isobel when she first came, and Mabel was getting dropped all round, she -never said a word, did she?" - -"No," said Mr. Leighton, with a long-drawn impatient sort of relief in -his voice. "No, but you did. You talked so much about the man all -through your illness that your mother thought you were in love with him -yourself. Ridiculous nonsense," he said testily. "And here have I been -trying to brace you up to hearing that Mabel is engaged to him, and the -scoundrel wishes to marry her at once." - -Dr. Merryweather, who had said that Elma was not to be excited, ought to -have been on the spot just then. She sat on her father's knee and hugged -him. - -"Oh, papa, papa, how glorious," said she. "Never mind, I shall always -stay with you, I shall, I shall." - -"Oh, will you?" said Mr. Leighton dismally. "Mabel said the same thing -not so long ago." - -Mrs. Leighton and Aunt Katharine came on the balcony, and behind them, -Mabel and Mr. Symington. - -"Isn't this a midsummer's night's dream?" sighed Elma, after the -congratulations were over. "I shall get up in the morning ever -afterwards, and I shall say, 'Now here there dawneth another blue -day'--even although it's as black as midnight." - -"Well, now that we're rid of Mabel," said Aunt Katharine placidly, "when -will your turn come along?" - -"Oh, Elma is going to stay with me," said Mr. Leighton. - -"H'm. Well, she always admired Miss Grace," said Aunt Katharine. -"There's nothing like being an old maid from the beginning." - -Elma stirred herself gently, and laughed in the moonlight. - -"Miss Grace is to be married to Dr. Merryweather," she said with a -smile. It was her piece of news, reserved till now for a proper -audience. - -Miss Grace had told her anxiously in the course of the afternoon. "Oh," -Elma had said, "how nice! Dr. Merryweather is such a duck!" - -"Do you think so?" had asked Miss Grace seriously. "Miss Annie used to -think he was a little loud in his manners." - -Miss Grace would ever be loyal to Miss Annie. Adelaide Maud came out -just then with Cuthbert. "How much finer to have been loyal to the like -of Cuthbert!" Elma could not help the thought. Ah, well, there were -fights and fights, and no doubt Miss Grace had won on her particular -battlefield. - -A new dance commenced indoors, and some came searching for partners. - -"Mr. Leighton," said the voice of George Maclean, "won't you spare Elma -for this dance?" - -They turned round to look at him. - -"Elma wants to stay with me," said Mr. Leighton gravely, putting his -arms round her. - -"Hph!" said Aunt Katharine in an undertone. "It's another Miss Grace, -sure enough." - -"Why don't you go and dance?" asked Adelaide Maud of Elma. - -There were her two ideals, Miss Grace and Adelaide Maud, crossing swords -as it were with one another. And there was George Maclean waiting at the -window of the drawing-room. A Strauss waltz struck up inside, one which -she loved. Ah, well, there were several kinds of fights in the world. -She felt in some inscrutable way that it was "weak" to stay with her -father. - -She went in with George Maclean. - -Mr. Leighton pulled up a chair for his wife, as the others, including -even Aunt Katharine, faded from the balcony. - -"I take this as an omen, they are all leaving us," he said in a sad -manner. - -Mrs. Leighton sighed gently. "We did the same ourselves, didn't we, -John?" - -And with a Strauss waltz hammering out its joyous commanding rhythm, a -son and daughter engaged, and Elma just deserted, Mr. Leighton replied -very dismally indeed, "I suppose so." - -"Hush," said Mrs. Leighton. "Who knows? This may be another." - -It was Jean with a University acquaintance of Cuthbert's. - -He placed her carefully in a chair and bent in a lounging manner over -her. - -"You see," said Jean in a high intense voice, "it's the method that does -it." - -"Ha," said Mr. Leighton joyously. "Herr Slavska may yet save me a -daughter." - - - - - Butler and Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London. - - - - - * * * * * * * * - - - - - - - _BOOKS BY_ - _CHRISTINA GOWANS WHYTE_ - - - Nina's Career - Uncle Hilary's Nieces - The Five Macleods - - - ILLUSTRATED IN COLOUR BY - JAMES DURDEN. - - Crown 8vo. Cloth. Price 6/- each. - -"We have been so badly in need for writers for girls who shall be in -sympathy with the modern standard of intelligence, that we are grateful -for the advent of Miss Whyte, who has not inaptly been described as the -new Miss Alcott."--_Outlook_. - -"The characters are such as one may see and meet almost any day, and the -writer has the happy knack of making them live in her pages."--_Morning -Post_. - - - - LONDON - HODDER & STOUGHTON, 20, WARWICK SQUARE, E.C. - HENRY FROWDE, OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS. - - - - - BOOKS FOR GIRLS. - - - By BESSIE MARCHANT - - A Girl of the Northland - -Illustrated in Colour, by N. TENISON. Crown 8vo, cloth, olivine edges. -5s. - -The scene of this story is the Stikine country of Western America, and -the contrast between the small mining town at a time of boom, and the -same town when the boom is over, is very vivid. Mr. Scarth, an -inhabitant of this town, learns of the whereabouts of what is alleged to -be a valuable gold find. He starts to make his fortune, and in his -absence his family have great difficulty in making ends meet. One day -an empty canoe is brought down the river, which is quickly recognized as -the one in which Mr. Scarth went away; and in it is a packet of what -appears to be gold, but which an Alaskan miner pronounces to be "false -hope." Finally word is brought by an Indian runner that Mr. Scarth is -in dire straits in the ice and snow; and it is only after many exciting -adventures that one of his daughters manages to rescue him. - - - - By MARJORY ROYCE - - The Unwilling Schoolgirl - -Illustrated in Colour by JAMES DURDEN. Large crown 8vo, cloth, olivine -edges. 5s. - -Ethne St. Ives passes the first dozen years of her life in luxury at the -house of a maiden aunt; but on the death of the latter she is sent to -school, very much against her will. At school, she rebels against -authority, and is in danger of being universally disliked for her airs -and affectations. She makes up her mind that she will not learn -anything; that she will not make friends with anybody. At length, -however, she learns to appreciate the joys of friendship and the value -of corporate spirit, and develops into a very lovable character. - -"We enjoyed every word of it."--_Nation_. - -"A capital story for girls."--_Manchester Guardian_. - - - - By J. M. WHITFELD - - Gladys and Jack - -An Australian Story for Girls. Coloured Illustrations by N. TENISON. -Large Crown 8vo, cloth, olivine edges. 5s. - -Gladys and Jack are sister and brother, and, up to the point when the -story opens, they have been the best of friends. Then, however, Gladys -puts on a superior air, and adopts a severely proper attitude towards -Jack. She goes to spend a holiday up-country, and here, too, her -icily-regular line of conduct seems bound to bring her into conflict -with her free-and-easy-going cousins. After some trying experiences, -Gladys finds herself in a position which enables her, for the time -being, to forget her own troubles, and exert all her strength on behalf -of the rest. She comes worthily through the ordeal and earns the -affection of her cousins, and Jack rejoices in the recovery of a lost -sister. - - - - By J. M. WHITFELD - - Tom who was Rachel - -A Story of Australian Life. Illustrated in Colour by N. TENISON. Large -crown 8vo, cloth, olivine edges, 5s. also cloth, 3s. 6d. - -In "Tom who was Rachel" the author has described a large family of -children living on an up-country station; and the story presents a -faithful picture of the everyday life of the bush. Rachel (otherwise -Miss Thompson, abbreviated to "Miss Tom," afterwards to "Tom ") is the -children's step-sister; and it is her influence for good over the wilder -elements in their nature that provides the real motive of a story for -which all English boys and girls will feel grateful. - - - - The Colters - -An Australian Story for Girls. Illustrated in Colour by GEORGE SOPER. -Large crown 8vo, cloth, olivine edges. 5s. - -This book deals with a merry family of Australian boys and girls. The -author seizes upon the everyday occurrences of domestic life, turning -them to good account; and she draws a charming picture of a family, -united in heart, while differing very much in habit and temperament. - - By WINIFRED LETTS - - The Quest of the Blue Rose - -Illustrated in Colour by JAMES BURDEN. Crown 8vo, cloth, olivine edges. -5s. - -After the death of her mother, Sylvia Sherwood has to make her own way -in the world as a telegraph clerk. The world she finds herself in is a -girls' hostel in a big northern city. For a while she can only see the -uncongenial side of her surroundings. In the end, however, Sylvia, -contented at last with her hard-working, hum-drum life, finds herself -the successful writer of a book of children's poems. - - - - Bridget of All Work - -Illustrated in Colour by JAMES BURDEN. Crown 8vo, cloth, olivine edges. -5s. - -The scene of the greater part of this story is laid in Lancashire, and -the author has chosen her heroine from among those who know what it is -to feel the pinch of want and strive loyally to combat it. There is a -charm about Bridget Joy, moving about her kitchen, keeping a light heart -under the most depressing surroundings. Girl though she is, it is her -arm that encircles and protects those who should in other circumstances -have been her guardians, and her brave heart that enables the word Home -to retain its sweetness for those who are dependent on her. - - - - By E. L. HAVERFIELD - - The Ogilvies' Adventures - -Illustrated in Colour by JAMES DURDEN. Large crown 8vo, cloth, olivine -edges, 3s. 6d. - -Hester Ogilvie and her elder, but less energetic, sister, daughters of a -Canadian who is unable to support the whole of his family, are invited -to spend a few years with their English uncle, Sir Hubert Campion. -Hester is unable to please her uncle in any way. At length she runs -away to London to make her own living, but is taken back, and through a -great service she does her uncle, he agrees to help her to carry out her -original plans. Finally, he arranges that the Canadian and English -branches of the family shall live together. - -"A most delightful story, which is admirably suited to the average -school-girl of to-day."--_Lady's Pictorial_. - - - - Audrey's Awakening - -Illustrated in Colour by JAMES DURDEN. Crown 8vo, cloth, olivine edges. -3s. 6d.; picture boards, cloth back, 2s. 6d. - -Audrey is a girl without ambitions, unsympathetic, and with a reputation -for exclusiveness. Therefore, when Paul Forbes becomes her stepbrother, -and brings his free and easy notions into the Davidson's old home, there -begins to be trouble. Audrey takes a dislike to Paul at the outset; and -the young people have to get through deep waters and some exciting times -before things come right. Audrey's awakening is thorough, if painful. - - - - By MRS. HERBERT STRANG - - The Girl Crusoes - -A Story of Three Girls in the South Seas. With Colour Illustrations by -N. TENISON. 3s. 6d.; decorated picture boards, cloth back, 2s. 6d. - -In these days of women travellers and explorers there are countless -instances of women displaying a courage and endurance in all respects -equal to that of the other sex. Recognizing this, Mrs. Herbert Strang -has written a story of adventure in which three English girls of the -present day are the central figures, and in which the girl reader will -find as much excitement and amusement as any boy's book could furnish. - -"For sheer excitement the book is equal to any boys' volume."--_Black -and White_. - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY BOOK GIRLS *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41797 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. 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