CHAPTER XI.
DULL DAYS.
The days that followed were the quietest that this summer had broughtto Hetherford. Not only had the _Vortex_ gone, but Wendell andChurchill had carried the other men off on the _Sylph_ for along-planned fishing excursion, and the girls were left to their owndevices. This was too common an occurrence to be looked upon as agreat hardship; yet it was quite obvious, even to Nan, that they didnot revel so much in their once treasured independence, and that theold-time simple pleasures had somehow lost their zest. There wassomething strangely amiss in the little colony. Jean, who had alwaysbeen depended upon to set the ball rolling, and to keep everyone ingood spirits, failed them utterly. She was so quiet and absent-minded,so unlike her usual self, that Eleanor began to fear that her surmisesin regard to the letter had been incorrect after all. Miss Stuart'spresence at the manor acted as a great restraint upon everybody. Shedid not adapt herself in the least to their quiet, humdrum existence,and maintained a stoical silence that was especially irritating. Theweather was very depressing. A fine drizzling rain fell persistently,the sky was gray and leaden, and the roads and lanes were almostimpassable with the mud. The dampness retarded Gladys' recovery, andshe was fractious and troublesome. Poor Helen was in despair, for MissStuart was unreasonable enough to resent her spending so much time inthe nursery, and took small pains to conceal the fact that she wasalmost bored to death.
By Friday Aunt Helen was seriously fretting over her niece, for Helenwas looking pale and tired and seemed quite incapable of coping withthe anxieties of housekeeping, Gladys, and the entertainment of herdifficult friend.
On the afternoon of this day the rain ceased and Nathalie, in despairof any more interesting amusement, declared her intention to drive tothe station to see the express arrive.
"Not that anyone ever comes here," she said dolorously as she drew onher driving gloves.
An hour later she burst into the drawing-room, her face radiant, hereyes twinkling. Helen sat before the low tea-table serving tea, MissStuart lounged in a huge armchair, while Jean was on her way betweenthe tea-table and Miss Stuart, with a dainty cup in her hand. Shepaused, and looked expectantly at Nathalie.
"Well, cheer up, girls, for I have some news at last. Who do you thinkarrived to-day?"
Even Miss Stuart leaned forward in her chair, and lost something ofher air of languor.
"Don't ask tiresome riddles, Nathalie," pleaded Jean, "but tell us."
"Mrs. Archer."
Miss Stuart looked blank; Helen laughed softly, and Jean handed MissStuart her cup of tea with a disgusted expression on her bonny face.
"You must, indeed, be in the depths to call that good news," she saidscornfully.
"I didn't say good news. I said news," Nathalie retorted triumphantly,"and in any case I think Mrs. Archer is a godsend after the monotonyof the last few days."
Miss Stuart smiled faintly for Nathalie, but echoed her sentiments.
"I think Cliff's mother is a charming woman," interposed Helen. "Sheis somewhat overbearing and imposing, but I know she does not mean tobe disagreeable."
"I like her," maintained Nathalie. "She is so worldly, so thoroughlymagnificent."
Jean laughed and meekly took her cup of tea from Helen.
"I have not another word to say. I suppose the truth is that I ammortally afraid of Mrs. Archer. She completely subdues me."
After a moment she spoke again, from the comfortable place she hadtaken on the divan:
"Do you know, Nathalie, just for one moment I thought it might havebeen Guy of whom you were speaking."
Helen set the teapot down suddenly, and there was a moment'suncomfortable silence. Miss Stuart let her glance travel slowly fromHelen's flushed face to Jean's grave one.
"Are you speaking of Mr. Appleton?" she asked lazily.
"Yes," replied Jean, with perfect unconsciousness, "I suppose you methim at the same time you did Helen. I wish it had been he instead ofMrs. Archer."
Miss Stuart shrugged her shoulders, and answered with insolentdisregard of Jean's evident affection for Guy:
"A nice enough man in his way, but so deadly uninteresting, so lackingin that knowledge of the world which alone makes a man worth talkingto."
Jean's eyes flashed, and her voice trembled with anger.
"Mr. Appleton is a very dear friend of ours, Miss Stuart, and to noneof us is it agreeable to hear him spoken ill of."
She looked impulsively across at Helen, feeling sure that her sisterwould speak some word of vindication of Guy, but the girl's head wasbent and she seemed wholly occupied in pushing the tea-cups aimlesslyabout on the polished surface of the mahogany tea-table. For the firsttime in her life Jean felt a contempt for her sister, and pressed herlips tightly together to keep down the bitter words that rose to them.Nathalie, who hated a scene above all things, and yet was toothoroughly in sympathy with Jean to feel equal to changing theconversation, sat down at the piano and began to drum.
Miss Stuart looked from one to the other and laughed unpleasantly.
"Mr. Appleton should be proud of such an ardent champion."
Jean made no answer. She finished her tea in silence and then leftthe room, followed by a sneering glance from Miss Stuart's eyes.
That evening Mrs. Andrews and her sister, Mrs. Archer, called at themanor. The young people had taken advantage of the first clear eveningsince Miss Stuart's arrival and had gone for a walk, so Mrs. Dennisasked her guests up to her room. During the conversation Mrs. Andrewssaid:
"How badly Helen is looking lately."
Aunt Helen agreed with her and related to Mrs. Archer the facts ofGladys' accident, and dilated upon Helen's untiring devotion to herlittle sister.
"She is worn out," she sighed in conclusion, "and it is so hard forher to have Miss Stuart here just at present."
"You don't mean Lillian Stuart, that beautiful girl about whomeveryone is raving?" exclaimed Mrs. Archer, roused to a degree ofinterest she rarely felt when in Hetherford.
"I suppose it is the same. She is certainly very beautiful, butsomehow," and Aunt Helen's face grew puzzled, "she doesn't seem at allthe kind of girl my Helen should care for. However, they are closefriends, so I----"
"Oh, she is a great belle," Mrs. Archer interrupted brusquely. "Poorgirl! What in the world does she do with herself in thisout-of-the-way place?"
Mrs. Andrews replied with some heat:
"She must be very hard to please if she cannot find anything to amuseor interest her here."
A gleam of amusement flashed into Aunt Helen's eyes, but was instantlysuppressed. Hetherford was the basis of an old feud between thesisters, and had been the cause of more than one bitter quarrel. Mrs.Archer was a fashionable woman to the tips of her fingers, and foryears she had striven to impress her easy-going sister with theimportance of society, and to persuade her at least to spend hersummers in some resort more frequented by the world of society. Mrs.Andrews, however, stood out against her and stoutly maintained thatshe and her children were perfectly happy where they were, and Mrs.Archer had to content herself with an occasional visit from her nieceMollie, who was eminently unsatisfactory as a fashionable girl. Tocrown her displeasure, her only son Clifford, instead of findingpleasure in his charming home at Newport, insisted upon spending thesummer at Hetherford Inn, and Mrs. Archer bore a great grudge againstthis small place. She was a very hospitable woman, and enjoyed keepingopen house, but she found it a great drawback to have no young personat home.
As she rose to leave, it suddenly occurred to her that it would bevery delightful to take two of the girls back to Newport with her. Herchoice fell upon Helen, because in that way she could include MissStuart in the invitation. Mrs. Dennis met the suggestion withapproval, for she knew it would do Helen good to get away from homefor a few days, and that so pleasant a change would please MissStuart. In the midst of the discussion, the two girls walked into theroom.
Mrs. Archer's shrewd, worldly eyes took in every detail of MissStuart's beautiful
face and faultless gown, and she instantly droppedthe somewhat patronizing tone she had used toward Helen, and urgedtheir acceptance with great cordiality. Helen hesitated, for she wasloath to leave Gladys again, but Aunt Helen and Miss Stuart overruledall her objections, and it was agreed that they should accompany Mrs.Archer.
The quiet that settled down over the manor after their departure wasvery grateful to Jean, who during the past week had been disturbed andharassed. She knew that she was fast approaching the most seriouscrisis of her life. All during these joyous summer days she haddrifted on so happily, evading self-questionings, living only for theday. Now she realized that the drifting was at an end. On his returnValentine Farr would speak to her, and although she had no doubt as tothe answer she would give him, yet she trembled a little and wouldfain have been alone with her secret. And now, when she would have hadher whole mind dominated by this one thought, Miss Stuart's unwelcomepresence in the house thrust other and less pleasant thoughts uponher. Up to the time of this last visit Jean's dislike of Miss Stuarthad been a vague, passing sentiment, which had concerned her butlittle. She had distrusted her always, but even that distrust waspurely intuitive, for she had no idea of the part Miss Stuart hadplayed in the severing of Helen's engagement. In that slightcontroversy about Guy, however, Jean had unwittingly pierced beneaththe surface of Miss Stuart's suave manner, and had caught a glimpse ofthe girl's true nature. She could not understand why this shouldaffect her so strongly. In vain she tried to account for it toherself. Miss Stuart, although so dear a friend of Helen's, occupied acomparatively unimportant position in their home life. In anotherfortnight she would be gone from among them, and for months they wouldknow nothing of her, save what Helen might choose to communicate fromher oft received letters. So Jean argued with herself, battling with acurious sense of apprehension that struggled within her. She longed totalk it all over with Aunt Helen, whose judgment was always to betrusted; but that seemed a kind of disloyalty to Helen, so shesmothered the vague doubts and fears which threatened to overwhelm herusual good sense. Her thoughts flew off to Farr, and poised over thatstrange talk they had had on that last afternoon. She drew from herpocket a letter that had come from him, and read it over slowly,lingering over every sentence. But when she had finished and wasfolding it into its envelope again, she sighed a little, for even thatdear missive could not quite dispel the vision which haunted her ofLillian Stuart's beautiful, cruel face.