CHAPTER V.
SUNSET-HOUR ON THE CLIFFS.
The following morning the girls were collected together in the upperbalcony of the manor, where the clustering vines afforded a welcomeshelter from the sun's hot rays. A wicker table, laden down with booksand work baskets, occupied a central position, and the low rockerswhich surrounded it were tilted swiftly back and forth as the girlsworked and chatted in an easy, desultory way. On the wideold-fashioned settle in the background sat Eleanor Hill and NanBirdsall; Eleanor lounging lazily back among the cushions, her handsresting idly in her lap, Nan all curled up in a heap, her sketchbookon her knee, her deft fingers making rapid strokes with a long,well-sharpened pencil.
"Do you know," spoke Eleanor Hill, "I fear we behaved very badlyyesterday. I have had qualms of conscience ever since, and a growingconviction that we made perfect fools of ourselves in the eyes ofthose two strange men."
"Better that than dullards," laughed Nan lightly.
"Hobson's choice," said Jean dryly.
Just then Helen, with a somewhat preoccupied air, pushed back herchair and passed into the house, her mind evidently intent on somedomestic question. Nathalie's eyes followed the retreating figure,until it was quite lost from view in the shadowy hallway, and thenwere bent thoughtfully on her work again.
"To change the subject, girls," she began, after a moment, devotingherself energetically to the threading of her needle, and tossing herhead impatiently at every unsuccessful effort; "have you heard thenews? Helen's friend, Miss Stuart, is coming down upon us for avisit."
"Yes, indeed we have." Emily's sigh came from the depths of her heart."I can't imagine what we will do with another girl here."
"What she will do with us may be more to the point," and Jean raisedher eyebrows expressively. "I don't know how it is, but I amapprehensive about this visit. I suppose," with a sort of honestprotest in her voice, "that I have never really liked Miss Stuart."
"Nor I," agreed Nathalie. "There is something about her that I do nottrust. And the worst of it is," with a grimace, "that she winds Helenaround her little finger. It always makes me so angry."
"Nonsense, Nat. You do Helen an injustice," objected Eleanorpleasantly. "However, I frankly confess to a fear that the harmony ofour own little circle will be somewhat marred by the advent of astranger."
"That's so, and then you know she is such a swell that she willprobably look down upon us poor country girls with the utmost scorn,"and Nathalie gave a vindictive tug at her knotted thread.
"Of course she is devoted to men?" queried Emily lugubriously.
"Oh, I should judge so, although I have never seen her with them. Youknow she has only stopped with us in the winter season, when we havebeen alone."
"Let us do her the justice to suppose that the men are equally devotedto her," added Jean generously.
"It amounts to about the same thing, whether she is devoted to men, orthey to her," and there was in Emily's tone such a note of tragicmelancholy that the girls could not refrain from laughing.
"Oh, what a happy nook and cranny of the great world this dear oldHetherford is," cried Eleanor, clasping her hands behind her head, andlooking out with dreamy eyes over the sweep of softly undulating lawnthat stretched away toward the manor gates. "It all seems so idyllicto me. There is so much petty jealousy and miserable heartburningbeyond the confines of this little haven of rest. People's motives areso often selfish that one grows strangely doubting, even of one'sfriends. Do you know," leaning forward impulsively and speaking withdeeper earnestness, "I think we girls have found the secret of truefriendship--mutual trust and respect. These are what have made ourlong intercourse such a happy one."
"Indeed you are right, Eleanor, dear," Jean replied gently.
"The bother of it all will be," interrupted Nathalie following out herown train of thought "that Mademoiselle will come here with trunksfull of fine clothes, and we will be obliged to dress up."
"I would like to see the girl who could make me discard my shirt andblazer," laughed Nan defiantly.
"How would we look _en grande toilette_ with such hands as these,"said Jean, thrusting forward her own little brown ones.
"Attractive, but from a different standpoint," Nan asserted with afine assumption of authority. "Everything depends upon your point ofview, according to Henry James. Now, from my artistic pinnacle,"tilting her head to one side, and surveying the group with critical,but approving eyes, "I declare I prefer brown hands to white ones."
"By the way," asked Jean, with well-feigned indifference, "what didyou think of the naval officers?"
"To return to our muttons," murmured Nathalie, with a sidelong glanceat her sister.
"Mr. Dudley was very pleasant and agreeable," replied Emily, "but Ithought Mr. Farr rather uninteresting."
"Well," laughed Eleanor demurely, "Nan is right. Everything doesdepend upon one's point of view. Now I thought Mr. Farr decidedlyattractive, and Mr. Dudley just a good-natured boy."
"That reminds me of something I saw in the paper the other day," Jeanobserved smilingly. "To the question 'What is taste?' the answer wasgiven, 'There is no such thing, except on the principle that somepeople haven't any.'"
"That is a fine way of disposing of one," and there was an expressionof quiet amusement in Eleanor's eyes. "Never mind, dear," leaningforward and pinching Jean's cheek, "I will forgive you. Besides,"dropping her voice, "you know that you agree with me."
"Now, what are you girls whispering about?" complained Nathalie. "Oh,bother this sewing," she went on irrelevantly; "I have had enough ofit for to-day," and the bit of work was tossed impatiently into herbasket.
This was the signal for a general uprising, and then, as they weredispersing, Nathalie made the announcement:
"Helen has asked Mr. Dudley and Mr. Farr to dinner to-morrow night."
"Yes," answered Mollie, turning back from the open doorway, "andCaptain Dodd and his wife, too. Dick says," with an air of profoundconviction, "that they are delightful."
"That settles it," laughed Nan, "Dick can't be wrong. Come on, Moll,"linking her arm in Mollie's, "I am going to take you home to luncheonwith me to-day."
It was late that afternoon when Jean, who had been reading for hourson the quiet veranda, suddenly jumped to her feet, with a little sighof weariness, and tossed her book into a neighboring chair. She wastired of sitting still so long and felt in the humor for a walk.Slowly she made her way down the broad steps and across the grounds ofthe manor. Strolling on in a reverie, and heeding but little in whichway her steps were taking her, she came upon the great iron gateswhich opened out into the roadway. Passing through them she wanderedlistlessly on toward the water.
It was the loveliest hour of the bright, sunny June day. Already theshadows were lengthening, and a little whiff of cooler air wasstirring after the warmth of the noonday. The sun was nearing thewestern horizon, now shining out in bright radiance, now obscured bysome light passing cloud. The murmur of a little brook which followedthe roadside, and the whispering of the wind among the leaves, made asoft music. Now and then a bird darted by overhead, singing out ashrill note in some high key, then dropping into a soft coo. Asquirrel ran out from the thicket, sped across the road, anddisappeared over a low stone wall.
"Oh, you foolish little chap," exclaimed Jean, half-aloud, as MasterSquirrel gave her one glance from his bright eyes, before dropping outof sight. "You are the swiftest little fellow I have ever seen."
It was growing rough and heavy underfoot now, and in a moment moreJean had reached the beach, and was strolling down toward the cliffs.
The water was alive with boats, their white sails glimmering in thesunlight, as the dying breeze bore them slowly on their way.
At the foot of the cliffs Jean paused a moment. The glory of thegolden light fell on her slender, girlish figure, and illumined herwistful, upturned face. As her eyes rested lovingly on the beautifulscene that lay before her a deep sigh of pleasure escaped her slightlyparted lips, for to-day the ol
d familiar sights and sounds seemedstrangely new and sweet. A narrow beaten track led temptingly to thesummit of the cliffs whence a magnificent view could be obtained, andafter an instant's hesitation she began the steep ascent. Turning thecorner of a sharp rock, which reared itself boldly into the air, shecame suddenly to a standstill, uttering a stifled exclamation, foralmost at her feet, stretched at full length in a sheltered cranny ofthe rocks, lay Valentine Farr, his hat drawn down over his forehead,his eyes thoughtfully intent upon the distant horizon. As Jean'sexclamation reached him, he glanced quickly up and sprang to his feet.
"Why, Miss Lawrence, this is indeed an unexpected pleasure. You stolea march on me. I did not hear your approach at all."
"Indeed, I am equally surprised, Mr. Farr, and I assure you you reallystartled me. I came upon you, so suddenly."
Farr's eyes rested admiringly on the soft color in the girl's face asshe went on:
"And may I ask how you hit upon my particular retreat in these rocks?Let me warn you. You can only make yourself happy in it with myespecial permission."
"I had no idea I was trespassing. Pardon my curiosity, but by whatright do you hold your title to this spot?" he queried with an amusedsmile.
"By the right of priority. Do you know of any better, Mr. Farr?" witha pretty air of defiance. "When I was a little girl in pinafores Iplayed here with my doll; when I was a schoolgirl I studied my lessonsin this dear spot; and now that I am a grown woman," drawing herselfup to her full height, and glancing at him merrily, "I come here toread, to ponder, and to think."
"A sacred spot indeed," spoke Farr laughingly, but with just a littlelowering of his voice. "I yield at once, for I see that no one coulddispute your right."
"No one." She threw out her hand with a pretty gracious gesture. "Butwon't you let me extend to you an invitation to occupy it whenever youfeel inclined?"
"Thanks, ever so much," he rejoined heartily, "You are very good. Andnow, can't I persuade you to rest a little after your climb, MissLawrence?"
She slipped down on the rocks, and he threw himself at her side.
"What delightful times you all seem to have here," he went on. "Do youknow I think this is a most charming place, quite an Elysium." Jean'ssoft eyes lighted up with pleasure.
"I am so glad you like it, but I fear you will find very little tointerest you in so sleepy a place."
Farr was about to make answer in words of conventional flattery, butsomething in the girl's tone of sincerity and good faith deterred himand impelled him to reply in kind.
"But I assure you I am delighted with it. You know we knock about agood deal, and some of our stations are almost unendurable. We havebeen on the Sound for several months now, and this is to me by far thepleasantest place in which we have cast anchor."
"It does my heart good to hear you say that," she rejoined naively,"for naturally Hetherford is very dear to us."
"You have lived here all your life, Miss Lawrence?"
"Ever since I was a wee little girl. Of course we have been away fromtime to time, but we are always glad to get back again."
"I can well understand your feeling so, although I have had verylittle of home life myself." Farr sighed as he uttered these lastwords.
Jean looked at him with gentle sympathy. "You say that sadly," shesaid.
"Do I?" He turned on his elbow, and his grave eyes met hers. His nextwords were prompted by a sudden unwonted impulse. "Perhaps I will tellyou about it some day."
Then a silence fell between them.
The sweet stillness held its sway o'er land and sea, its perfectharmony emphasized by the soft lapping of the waves against theshadowy sands below. The breeze was dying with the dying sun. Just offthe shore a little white-sailed cat-boat was drifting in with theflowing tide.
Jean drew a long breath and started swiftly to her feet.
"Why, how late it is growing," she exclaimed. "I must be going, Mr.Farr."
"Already?" he said, and then they made their way down the ruggedcliff.
"Take care, Miss Lawrence," he cried, as she missed her footing andslipped a little. "Please let me assist you," and he extended hishand.
Jean put her hand in his with a demure uplifting of her eyebrows, andjust a fleeting smile on her lips. There flashed through her mind thethought:
"How unmercifully Nan would chaff me, if she could catch a glimpse ofme now."
The descent was a brief one, and soon they had crossed the sands andwere strolling along the road in the direction of the manor.
"You are coming to dine with us to-morrow night, are you not, Mr.Farr?"
"Your sister was good enough to ask us, and I shall be only toodelighted to avail myself of her kind invitation."
"I really will not let you come any further with me," she declared asthey reached the manor gates. "I fear, as it is, I have taken you verymuch out of your way, and it must be late."
"It is close upon seven," he told her after looking at his watch. "Andyou dine?"
"At seven, and let me warn you now that to be late is to meet with mysister's ire."
"I shall remember," he answered, with his pleasant laugh. "And now canI not see you to your door?"
"No, indeed. I must hurry away," she said as they shook hands, "fortime, tide, and dinner at the manor wait for no man. Good-by."
"Until to-morrow," he said, as he turned away.