CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
IN THE VILLAGE CHURCH.
The shopping expedition was, by common consent, postponed until themiddle of the following week, when Jack Melland would have taken hisdeparture.
"Let us make hay while the sun shines. Three is an abominable number,especially when you happen to be the third," said Mollie, sighing. "MrDruce admires you very much, Ruth. I often see him staring at you whenyou are not looking; but when I appear upon the scene his eyelids droop,and he does not deign even to glance in my direction. He puzzles me agood deal, as a rule. I rather fancy myself as a judge of character,but I can't decide whether he is really a model of virtue, or a villainin disguise."
Ruth made a movement of impatience.
"How exaggerated you are, Mollie! Why must you rush off to extremes inthat foolish fashion? Mr Druce is probably neither one nor the other,but just an ordinary combination of faults and virtues. He is kind andconsiderate to Uncle Bernard, and very chivalrous to us;--a hundredtimes more so than Jack Melland, who certainly does not err on the sideof politeness. Personally, I don't think any the less highly of peoplebecause they are little reserved and uncommunicative at first. It willbe time enough to judge Mr Druce's character when we have known him forweeks, instead of days."
"Humph! I believe in first impressions," insisted Mollie obstinately;"and so do you, really, or you would not bristle up when I dare to casta doubt on his excellence. You are going to like him, Ruth, I can seethat quite clearly, and he admires you; so, as I said before, I shall bethe poor little pig who stays at home, while you two wander abroadtogether. It's not exactly the programme which my fancy painted when wecame down; but if I devote myself to Uncle Bernard, and cut you bothout, I shall have the best of it, after all. Perhaps, too I may makefriends with someone in the neighbourhood,--there is always the chanceof that, and I do love meeting new people. I suppose callers will beginto arrive after we have made our first public appearance at church to-morrow. I am quite excited at the prospect of seeing all the people--aren't you?"
"I am not going," said Ruth.
And when Mollie exclaimed and cross-questioned, she flusheduncomfortably, but did not refuse to answer.
"I have made up my mind to go to early service, but not again at eleveno'clock. It's not that I don't want to go; it's because I want to go somuch--for the wrong reasons! Ever so many times during the last fewdays I have caught myself thinking about it, and imagining the scene--everybody staring at us, while we sit in the squire's pew trying to lookunconscious, but really enjoying it all the time, and building castlesin the air about the future, when we may have a right to be there. Weshould be thinking most of all of ourselves, and that's not a rightspirit in which to go to church; so I'm not going. I'm disappointed,but I've made up my mind."
Mollie leant her head on her hand and gazed thoughtfully before her.The sisters were seated in the great round window of their bedroom, fromwhich such a glorious view of the surrounding country could be obtained;and as Mollie's eyes wandered from the blue of the sky to the freshgreen of the trees, and anon to the patches of golden daffodils amongthe grass, a wonderful sweetness softened her young face.
"But God understands!" she said gently. "He made girls, so He must knowhow they feel. This is a great occasion for us, and it is natural thatwe should be excited and a little bit self-engrossed. Mother wouldthink it natural, and make excuses for us, even if we were carried awayby our new importance; and God is kinder and more forgiving than mother.Perhaps, when one is quite old and staid, it is easy to sit through aservice and never think of self; but it is difficult when one is young.I used to be miserable because every time I had a new hat or dress, oranything that was fresh, I couldn't help remembering it and beingpleased that I looked so nice, and hoping that other people liked it toobut when I thought it over I came to the conclusion that it was onlynatural. Look at that lovely view!" She waved her hand expressivelyfrom right to left. "When God made the world so beautiful and so fullof colour, He must mean us to love pretty things without being ashamedof it; so now I just thank Him for the new things in my prayers, andremember them as some of the things to be thankful for. I'm sure it'sthe best way. It's cowardice to stay at home because we are afraid of atemptation. Surely it would be far better to go, to thank God forgiving us this good time, and to ask Him to send us nice friends, and,if it be His will, to let Uncle Bernard leave us the Court, so that wemay help them all at home!"
She broke off, looking round half timidly in Ruth's face, for it wasreversing the usual roles to find herself laying down the law as toright and wrong to the serious-minded elder sister. Would Ruth beannoyed--shocked--disapproving? It appeared that she was not, for thetroubled lines had gradually smoothed away from her forehead, and shecried heartily--
"Yes, you are right. I feel you are! Thank you for putting it soplainly, dear. I _did_ want to go to church, and now my conscience willbe clear, so I can go comfortably, feeling it is the right thing. Butoh, Mollie, shall we all four be praying, one against the other, eachone wanting to disappoint the others, and keep the Court for himself?"
"Jack Melland won't, for one; and I won't for another. I'm not surethat I want it and all the responsibility that goes in its train. I'dhonestly rather it were yours, dear; then I could come and sponge uponyou as often as I liked."
"Sponge!" echoed Ruth reproachfully. "As if it would be any pleasure tome if you were not here! What would become of poor Berengaria withouther Lucille? We are so grand in real life now that we forget the dearold game; but, when we are back in Attica, we shall be able to play itbetter than ever, now that we really know what it feels like to be richand have everything one wants!"
Mollie did not answer, and both girls sat silently gazing before them,while their thoughts wandered northwards to a shabby, crowded house, andto a sloping-roofed attic under the leads, in which so many hours hadbeen spent. Mollie smiled, remembering the little make-shifts andcontrivances, seeing the humour of them, and feeling again the glow oftriumph with which each difficulty had been surmounted.
Ruth shuddered with a mingling of fear and repulsion.
Oh, how bare it was--how poor, and small, and unlovely! the few smallrooms, the shabby furniture, the little plot of grass in front of thedoor which did duty as a garden. Could it be possible that in a fewshort months she might have to return and take up life once more underthe old conditions? The thought of Dr Maclure's handsome house hadbeen a distinct temptation to her when he had asked her to be his wife;then how much more the beautiful old Court?
"I would do anything to get it!" thought poor Ruth desperately. "Oh, ifI could only find out what Uncle Bernard wants! It is terrible to be inthe dark like this!"
The next day was Sunday, and the ordeal of church-going proved to bemuch less trying than had been expected, for the congregation was mainlycomposed of villagers, who looked too stolid and sleepy to troublethemselves about the appearance of strangers, even when seated in thesquire's pew. The pew, moreover, was situated in the front of thechancel, so that it was all the easier to pay whole-hearted attention tothe service. Coming out through the churchyard, the girls wereconscious of glances of interest directed towards themselves by variouslittle parties who plainly composed the gentlefolk of the neighbourhood.
At the gate one or two carriages were waiting in readiness to conveytheir owners home, the best appointed of which was presently occupied byan old lady and gentleman, whom Ruth recognised from Mrs Thornton'sdescription as being the couple whom the renowned Lady Margot Blount wasabout to visit. She said as much to Mollie, when the carriage hadpassed by, and the four young people were strolling together in easycountry fashion along the road.
"Did you notice, Mollie? Those must be Mr and Mrs Blount, who live atthe Moat. I should know them anywhere from Mrs Thornton's description.I wonder whether they will call, and if Lady Margot Blount will comewith them? She was expected this week, I think."
She was interrupted by a sha
rp exclamation, and turned with her twocompanions to stare in amazement into Victor Druce's transformed face.For once amazement had broken down the veil which gave a tinge ofmystery to his personality; his sallow cheeks showed a streak of colour,and his eyes were wide open and eager.
"Lady--Margot--Blount!" he repeated incredulously. "Here, in thisvillage! You say she is expected to meet those people who have justdriven past? Is it possible? Who told you about her?"
Ruth stared at him, amazed in her turn by his energy of manner.
"Mrs Thornton told us so, the night she dined at the Court. We askedher what girls were in the neighbourhood, and among the number she spokeof Lady Margot as a constant visitor to her uncle and aunt. Why are youso surprised? Do you know her in town? Is she a friend of yours?"
Victor hesitated, biting the ends of his moustache.
"I can hardly call her a friend. We are not in the same set; but I sawa good deal of her last autumn. Some people I know were getting uptableaux for a charity bazaar, and asked us both to take part. Therewere a good many rehearsals, so that we grew for the time prettyintimate; but she went off to Egypt for the winter, and I have heardnothing of her since the night of the performance."
"But have thought a good deal all the same!" said Mollie shrewdly toherself, looking at the dark face, which looked so handsome in itsunaccustomed animation.
If Victor Druce often looked like that, he would be a fascinatingcompanion. To have the power so to influence him and excite hisinterest would be perilously attractive. A few hours before, Mollie hadbeen almost prepared to declare that she distrusted and disliked thisnew acquaintance; now she was conscious of a distinct feeling of envytowards the unknown Margot.
"How interesting that you have met already! Mrs Thornton was soenthusiastic in her praise, that she roused our curiosity to fever-pitch. Do tell us what she is like! We are longing to know."
But Victor did not appear inclined to be communicative. The heavy lidsfell over his eyes, and he murmured a few non-committal sentences. Itwas difficult to describe a girl so as to give any real idea of herappearance. He was not skilled at word-painting. If Lady Margot was sosoon expected, would it not be better to wait and judge for themselves?Mollie shrugged her shoulders impatiently, and forthwith began hercatechism.
"Tailor short?"
"Er--medium; not small, not too tall."
"The perfect mean? I understand! Dark or fair?"
"Dark eyes, chestnut hair."
"Oh, that's not right. She has no right to monopolise the beauties ofboth complexions. And chestnut hair, too, the prettiest shade of all!Is she a real, true beauty, or only just pretty, like ordinary folk?"
"That must be a matter of personal opinion, mustn't it, Miss Mollie?Ideas vary so much on these subjects."
"Checkmate!" sighed Mollie to herself. "He won't say what he thinks,and I can't be so rude as to ask directly, though it's just what I'mdying to know." Aloud, she said carelessly, "Oh, I've no doubt I shallthink her lovely, and adore her as I do all lovely people; that is, ifshe doesn't scare me too much. Is she formidable and _grande dame_, orlively and easy-going?"
"That again must surely depend upon circumstances," replied Victorsententiously, whereat Mollie tossed her head, declaring that he was asaggravating as Uncle Bernard himself, and almost as enigmatical.
As for Ruth, she walked along with compressed lips and frowning brows.It was not possible for a girl to find herself thrown into closecompanionship with two young men, and not wonder in the recesses of herheart if perchance friendship might not eventually develop intosomething warmer. Ruth and Mollie had both thought and dreamed, and toeach it had occurred that possibly some such ending of the great problemmight have occurred to Mr Farrell himself. There was no barrier ofnear relationship to prevent two of the young people making a match, ifthey were so disposed; and while Uncle Bernard, so far, seemed to favourhis elder niece, he had expressly stated that he would prefer a maleheir. Ruth's favour was not easily won, but as both young men appearedagreeable, gentlemanly, and good-looking, it had been a distinctlypleasant experience to look forward and wonder if he,--if I,--if perhapssome day, long ahead, when we know each other well... All girls havesuch dreams, and understand how their existence adds savour to asituation. It was not a little trying, then, when Jack Melland insistedon returning to town, and Victor Druce, in his turn, must needs betrayan undoubted interest in another girl.
"Tiresome thing!" murmured Ruth to herself; referring, needless to say,not to Victor, but to the innocent Margot herself. "I knew I shoulddislike her from the moment when Mrs Thornton mentioned her name. Whycouldn't she be happy in town, with all her grand friends, instead ofrushing down here to interfere with us the moment we arrive? She issure to hear the reason why we are here--everyone knows it; and if sheis mercenary she will like Victor better now that he has a chance ofinheriting the Court, and, when he knows her connection with theneighbourhood, she will seem to him more desirable than ever. UncleBernard would be pleased, and think her a suitable mistress for theCourt, and they will get everything, and we'll get nothing, and go homeas failures... Mother will be disappointed, and everything will beduller and pokier than ever..."
So on and so on, conjuring up one gloomy vision after another, as washer unhappy custom, until at length she saw herself stricken in years,broken in health, lonely and unloved, with nothing in prospect but apauper's grave. A strange ending, indeed, to that first publicappearance from which so much had been expected!