CHAPTER XVI.
BELLE'S NEW FRIEND.
"How soon the bitter follows on the sweet! Could I not chain your fancy's flying feet? Could I not hold your soul to make you play To-morrow in the key of yesterday?"
Isobel found Belle on the Parade next morning in the midst of quite agroup of fashionable strangers. She was wearing one of her smartestfrocks, and was hanging affectionately on the arm of a girl slightlytaller than herself, a showy-looking child, with hazel eyes and a highcolour, dressed in a very fantastic costume of red and white, with ascarlet fez on her thick frizzy brown hair, and a tall silver-knobbedcane, ornamented with ribbons, in her hand. Belle appeared to find hercompany so entrancing that at first she did not notice Isobel, and itwas only when the latter spoke to her that she seemed to realize herpresence, and said "Good-morning."
"We're just off to the island," said Isobel. "Charlie has got a freshcoil of rope, and the boys are going to try and make a new raft. TheRokebys are bringing some eggs, and we mean to fry pancakes and tossthem, as if it were Shrove Tuesday. Are you coming?"
"Well, not this morning, I think," replied Belle. "I've promised Blancheto show her the old town. She doesn't know Silversands at all."
"Would she like to go with us to the hut?" suggested Isobel, lookingtowards the newcomer, who stood playing with the loops of ribbon on hercane, and humming a tune to herself in a jaunty, self-confident manner.
"Oh, I don't think so," replied Belle. "It's too far. She hasn't seenthe beach or the quay yet. We're going now to buy fruit in the market,and then we shall have a stroll round the shops. You can take Micky withyou to the island if you like. I'll put on his leash, so that he won'tfollow me."
"No, thanks; I should be afraid of losing him," replied Isobel. "I'dreally rather not. Shall I see you this afternoon?"
"Blanche has asked me to play tennis in their garden," said Belle,drawing Isobel aside. "But I shall be home about six, because theOppenheims dine at seven, and Blanche always has to dress. I'll comefor a walk then, if you'll call for me. I must go now; the others arewaiting."
Isobel went away with a rather blank feeling of disappointment. She hadgrown so accustomed to Belle that it seemed quite strange to be withouther, and the morning passed slowly, in spite of the pancakes which shehelped Letty and Winnie to mix and toss over the fire. She felt she wasonly giving half her attention to the raft that the boys kept callingher to admire, and that her thoughts were continually with Belle, tryingto imagine what she was doing, and wondering if she were enjoyingherself. Mrs. Stewart had found the walk to the White Coppice such astrain on her weak ankle that she would not dare to venture any greatexertion for several days, so her intended expedition to the island tosketch the runic cross had perforce to be put off. She and Isobelcarried their tea to the beach close by that afternoon, and drank itunder the shade of a rock; but though it was pleasant sitting close tothe lapping waves, and Mrs. Stewart had brought a new book to readaloud, Isobel's mind would wander away to the garden near the woodswhere Belle was playing tennis, and she would recall herself with astart, realizing that she had not taken in a single word of the story.
She went round, according to her promise, soon after six o'clock, tofind Mrs. Stuart and her friend deep in patterns of dress materials,price lists, catalogues, and copies of the _Queen_, and other ladies'newspapers.
"The Oppenheims are giving a garden-party next Tuesday," explainedBelle. "They have a great many friends staying in the neighbourhood whowill drive over. They've asked me, and I haven't a thing fit to go in.My white silk's too short, the pink crape's quite crushed, the bluemuslin won't look nice after it's washed, and my merino's hardly smartenough. I must have a new dress somehow."
"I don't generally like you in ready-made clothes, Belle," said Mrs.Stuart, "but really this embroidered silk in the advertisement looksvery pretty, and Peter Robinson's is a good shop. I think I shall riskit. There will be just time, if I catch this post. Would you rather havethe blue or the pink?"
"The blue," said Belle promptly, "because of my best hat. You'd betterwrite for some more forget-me-nots at the same time; the ones in thefront are rather dashed. I can wear my blue chain and the turquoisebracelet, and I have a pair of long white gloves not touched yet. Butoh, mother, my parasol! It's dreadfully bleached with the sun. Do,please, send for another. There's a picture of one here with littlefrills all round, just what I want."
Belle's mind was so absorbed by the arrangement of her costume for thecoming party that, until the letters were written and finally dispatchedto the post, she could give no attention to Isobel, and in the shortwalk which they took afterwards on the beach her whole conversation wasof the Oppenheims and the delightful afternoon she had spent at theirhouse.
"Blanche has five bracelets," she confided, "and four rings, and adressing-case full of lockets and chains and brooches. She took meupstairs and showed them to me. She's brought her pony with her, andsome morning she's promised to borrow her sister's riding-skirt for me,and the coachman is to take us on to the common to ride in turns. Won'tit be glorious? She's _such_ an amusing girl! She knows all the latestsongs, and you should just hear her take people off: it makes you diewith laughing. She's been a year at a jolly school near London, wherethe girls are taken to _matinees_ at the theatre, and have a splendidtime. I mean to ask mother to send me there. It's dreadfully expensive,but I know she wouldn't mind that."
"We missed you at the island to-day," said Isobel. "The pancakes weredelicious. We ate them with sugar and lemons."
"Did you?" said Belle inattentively. "Perhaps I may come to-morrow, if Ihave time."
"To-morrow's the cricket match at the old playground," said Isobel. "Wealways have it on Saturday, you know. Had you forgotten?"
"I suppose I had," replied Belle. "I'll bring Blanche, if she caresabout coming. I don't know whether she plays cricket."
On Saturday morning Isobel called early at No. 12, only to find thatBelle had already gone to the Oppenheims, and would not return untillunch.
"I'm sorry she's not in, dear," said Mrs. Stuart kindly, noticingIsobel's look of disappointment; "but she expects to see you in theafternoon, I'm sure. She told me she would be meeting all her friendsupon the shore, so some of the others will no doubt know what has beenarranged, if you ask them. I believe I saw the Rokebys pass a momentago; you could soon overtake them if you were to run."
The matches on the small green common which had been their firstplayground were still an institution of the Sea Urchins' Club, andIsobel looked forward to them with considerable pleasure. She had notsufficient strength of arm to gain credit as a batsman, but she was asplendid fielder, and Charlie declared that no one made a betterlong-stop. This afternoon both boys and girls had assembled in fullforce punctually at the appointed time, and the game was nearly halfwaythrough before Belle and her new friend came sauntering leisurely up tothe pitch.
"Oh! we don't want to play, thank you," said Belle, "only to look on.Please don't stop on our account. We're just going to sit down and watchyou."
The pair retired to the old boat, where they settled themselves underthe shade of Blanche's parasol, and, to judge from their giggling mirth,found great entertainment in making merry at the expense of the others.Isobel, who was fielding, had not a chance to speak to Belle until theopposite side was out, but Arthur Wright having sent a catch at last,she was free until her own innings. She ran up with her accustomedeagerness, expecting her friend to kiss her as usual, and to make roomfor her upon the boat. To-day, however, Belle did nothing of the sort.
"That you, Isobel?" she said carelessly. "I should think you're hot. Idon't know how you can tear about so. Blanche said your legs lookedlike a pair of compasses when you flew after the ball."
"Aren't you going to play?" asked Isobel. "We want one more on eachside."
"No, thanks. I hate racing up and down in the sun. It takes one's hairout of curl."
"Oh, I don't think it would," replied Isobel.
"P
eople with rats' tails can't judge," said Blanche, twisting one ofBelle's light locks and her own dark ones together as she spoke, andlooking at the combination with a critical eye. "If my brother werehere, he'd be in fits over this cricket. I never saw such a game. Thatbig boy holds his bat in the most clumsy way."
"He's a very good player," said Isobel. "He gets more runs than anybodyelse, and it's terribly hard to put him out."
"Jermyn would bowl him first ball!" returned Blanche scornfully."Perhaps you've never seen Eton boys play? I always go to Lord's towatch the match with Harrow: it's as different from this as afirst-class theatre is from a troupe of niggers."
"Why, but this is only a children's mixed team," said Isobel. "Of coursesome of the little ones scarcely know how to play at all. We just sendthem very easy balls, and let them try.--You're surely not going, Belle.Tea will be ready in a quarter of an hour. Mrs. Rokeby's boiling thekettle on a spirit lamp over by the rocks."
"We don't want any, thank you," said Belle, rising from the boat andbrushing some sand off her dress. "Mrs. Oppenheim is going to take us totea at the new cafe. I hear they've capital ices and a band. The Wilsonswere telling me about it yesterday. They say you meet everybody therefrom four to five o'clock."
"Shall I see you on the Parade this evening?" called Isobel, as Bellestrolled away in the direction of Silversands, her arm closely locked inBlanche's.
"I don't think so," replied Belle, without turning her head, and sayingsomething in a whisper to Blanche, which evidently caused the lattermuch amusement, for she broke into a suppressed peal of laughter, andglancing round at Isobel, went along shaking her shoulders with mirth.
Isobel stood looking after the retreating couple with a lump in herthroat and a curious sick sensation in her heart. She could not yetquite realize that Belle did not desire her companionship--only thatsomehow Blanche had carried off her friend, and that everything wascompletely spoilt. Between Blanche and herself she recognized there wasan instinctive hostility. Blanche had been so openly rude, and hadtreated both her and the Sea Urchins with such evident contempt, thatIsobel, not usually a quarrelsome child, had felt all her spirit rise upwithin her in passionate indignation.
"Why does she come here to make fun of us?" she asked herself hotly. "Wehad such jolly times before. None of the others were ever nasty likethis--not even Aggie Wright or Hugh Rokeby. Why can't she keep with herown family? And why, oh, why does Belle seem to like her so much?"
Next day being Sunday, Isobel only saw her friend at a distance inchurch, Mrs. Stewart, who had a suspicion of what was happening,suggesting that they should pass the afternoon with their books on thecliffs, thinking it would be better to leave Belle severely alone, andgive no opportunity for a meeting. On this account she spent Monday inFerndale, asking Hilda Chester to accompany them, and taking the twochildren to hear the band play on the pier, and to an entertainmentafterwards in the pavilion. The Rokebys came on Tuesday morning,inviting Isobel to join them in a boating excursion, from which they didnot return until late in the evening, so that for the first time sincethe beginning of their acquaintance the namesakes had not spoken toeach other for three whole days. Isobel had borne the separation as wellas she could, but she longed to see Belle again with the full force ofher loving nature. She invented many excuses for the conduct of thelatter, who, she thought, was no doubt regretting her coldness, andwould be as delighted as ever to meet. If only she could get Belle toherself, without Blanche, all would surely be right between them, andthe friendship as warm as it had been before.
"May I ask her to tea, mother?" she begged, with so wistful a look inher gray eyes, and such a suspicious little quiver at the corners of hermouth, that Mrs. Stewart consented, somewhat against her betterjudgment.
Finding Belle on the cricket-ground next morning, Isobel broached thesubject of the invitation at once.
"To-day?" said Belle. "I'm going to the Oppenheims'. I haven't told youyet about their garden-party. It was _such_ a swell affair! They hadwaiters from the Belle Vue Hotel at Ferndale, and the Grenadier bandfrom the pier. I never saw lovelier dresses in my life. My blue silkcame just in time, and it really looked very nice, and the parasol issweet. You can't think how much I enjoyed myself."
"Would to-morrow do?" suggested Isobel, "if you can't come to-day?"
"To tea? At your lodgings?" replied Belle, with a rather blankexpression on her face.
"Yes, unless we carry the cups out on to the shore and have a picnic.Perhaps that would be nicer."
"Mother wants to take me to call on the Wilsons to-morrow."
"Then Friday or Saturday? It doesn't matter which to us."
"Really," said Belle, looking rather embarrassed, "I expect I shall begoing to the Oppenheims both days. Blanche likes me to make up the setat tennis, and it's so cool and nice in the garden under the trees.There she is now, coming along the beach and beckoning to me. I wonderwhat she wants. I think I shall have to go and see." And Belle ranquickly off, as if glad to find an excuse for getting away; and meetingthe Oppenheims, she turned back with them towards the Parade.
Left alone, Isobel felt as though some great shock had passed over her.She saw only too plainly that Belle did not want to come--did not carefor her society or value her friendship; and the bitterness of theknowledge seemed almost greater than she could bear. She walked slowlyto the cliff, and climbing part of the way up, sat down in a shelterednook, hidden from sight of the beach; then putting her head on herhands, she let loose the flood-gates of her grief. God help us when wefirst find out that those we care for no longer respond to our love. Thewound may heal, but it leaves a scar, and remains one of those silentmilestones of the soul to which we look back in after years as havingmarked an epoch in our inner lives. At the time it appears as if all ouraffection had been wasted; but it is not so, for the very fact of lovingeven an unworthy object increases our power to love, and enlarges theheart, lifting us above self, and, as bread cast upon the waters, willreturn to us after many days in a greater capacity for sympathy withothers, and a widening of our spiritual growth.
To Isobel it seemed as if the whole world had somehow changed. She hadhad few companions of her own age, and this was her first essay atfriendship. Those who enjoy very keenly suffer, alas! in likeproportion, and hers was not a disposition to take things lightly. Shestayed for a long, long time upon the cliffs, fighting a hard battlebefore she could get her tears under sufficient control to walk homealong the shore, as she did not care to face any of the Sea Urchins withstreaming eyes. Perhaps a touch of pride came to her aid. She would, atany rate, not let Belle know how greatly she cared, and when they metagain she would behave as if she too were not anxious about theacquaintance. So much she felt she owed to her own self-respect, and shemeant to carry it out, whatever it cost her.
"I wouldn't break my heart, darling," said Mrs. Stewart, who, seeingIsobel's red eyes, soon discovered the trouble, and offered what comfortshe could. "Belle isn't worth grieving for. I was afraid of this fromthe first, but you were so taken with her that it seemed of no use towarn you. I don't think she was ever half what you believed her to be,and she has proved herself a very fickle friend. Never mind. We shall begoing home soon, and you will have other interests to turn yourthoughts. We shall see little more of her at Silversands, and the bestthing we can do is to forget her as speedily as we can."