CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
PREPARING FOR THE GARDEN-PARTY.
Mrs Thornton took counsel with her husband as to the best form ofhospitality she could show to the squire's visitors.
"I want to be one of the first to entertain them formally. It is a dutyin our position," she explained. "The girls have been to tea severaltimes, and that dear Mollie runs up to the nursery as naturally as ifshe were at home; but I think we ought to do more. The squire willexpect it; and then the question is, dear--what can we do?"
"Just so." The vicar smiled, half amused, half quizzical. "The meansat our disposal are distinctly limited. We can't ask them to dinner,because the staff is incapable of cooking and serving an extensivemeal."
"And there are only three sherry-glasses left, and Mary broke the roundglass dish last week--the one I always used for the trifle. And thedinner-service... We really must buy a new dinner-service, Stanford!"
"We really must, Agnes--some time! I think all the objections takentogether put the dinner-party out of the question. Would not a somewhatmore formal tea--"
"No." Mrs Thornton shook her head decidedly. "A formal tea is themost depressing function imaginable. If it was a little later on, Iwould suggest a hay-party. As it is, I am afraid it must be a garden-party, pure and simple."
The vicar laughed.
"Simple, it certainly would be. Our poor little lawn, one tennis-court,and the flower-garden a mass of weeds! We can't afford a band ofminstrels, or even the ordinary ices and hothouse fruits. I am afraidit might be rather a failure, Agnes."
But Mrs Thornton refused to be discouraged.
"Nonsense, dear! People don't expect extravagant entertainments at avicarage! The children and I can undertake the weeding, and when thatis done the dear old herbaceous borders will look charming! The lawn isnot big, but there is delightful shade beneath the beech-trees, and wecan draw the piano up to the drawing-room window, and get a few peopleto sing for us--Maud Bailey and Mrs Reed; and I believe Mr Druce has afine voice. I'll ask him to be very kind, and give us a song. As forrefreshments, I can give good tea and coffee, and the best cream formiles around, and people can exist without ices for once in a way.Given a bright, fine day, I could manage beautifully!"
"I have no doubt you could. But why go through the ceremony of askingmy advice, Mistress Thornton, when your mind has been made up from thebeginning? Go your ways--go your ways! I wash my hands of allresponsibility!" cried the vicar, laughing, as he walked back to hisstudy, leaving his wife to sit down to her desk and make out a lengthylist of guests, which included everyone of note for miles round.
During the days to come Mr Thornton often sympathised with his wife onthe amount of work she had undertaken in order to entertain the squire'sguests; but, even to his unobservant eyes, it was apparent that, so farfrom being exhausted, she throve beneath it, and appeared brighter andyounger than for years past. All work and no play has an even moredepressing effect upon Jill than on Jack, and Mrs Thornton was byinstinct a hospitable creature, who would have loved nothing better thana houseful of guests and a constant succession of entertainments. Withsmall means, a large family, and a straggling parish, her time andenergy were for the most part engrossed in sheer hard work, so that theprospect of a little "jollification," as she laughingly expressed it,came as a welcome variety.
The invitations to the Court were sent out first, to make sure of themost important guests, and down came the girls with notes of acceptance,and a hundred curious questions.
"Who is coming? What are you going to do? What dresses shall we wear?Can we help?" they asked eagerly; whereupon Mrs Thornton laughed, andreplied hesitatingly--
"It is most incorrect; you ought to know nothing of the make-shifts, butjust drive down to enjoy the completed effect; but, yes,--I cannotresist the pleasure of your company. Come, if you like, and I'llpromise you some real hard work."
"That's right; and you'll find us so useful! We have been born andbrought up on make-shifts, and can make anything out of nothing, and abox of tacks--can't we, Ruth?" cried Mollie, in the brutally outspokenmanner which always brought a flush into her sister's face.
It was not so much foolish shame at the fact of poverty, but the stab ofpainful repugnance which came with the remembrance of the bareness andlack of beauty which characterised the old life. After a month'ssojourn at the Court the day of small things seemed far away, and sheshrank at the possibility of returning to it as a permanency.
When Mrs Thornton began to enumerate her difficulties, and escorted thegirls from one room to another to ask their advice upon various knottypoints, it was like the probing of a wound to Ruth's sensitive nerves.The house itself was roomy and well built, but in a hopeless state ofdisrepair. The paint was worn and dingy; the wallpapers so old-fashioned and discoloured that all Mrs Thornton's painstaking effortsafter cheerfulness and beauty were foiled by the inartistic background.
"I shed tears over the drawing-room paper when I was first married,"said Mrs Thornton, with a laugh and a shrug. "But, as one gets older,there are so many more serious things to cry over that one learns to bephilosophical. I thought I might put some big, spreading branches inthese old pots to cover the walls as much as possible, for we must havesome rooms available in case of a shower. A wet day is too terrible acatastrophe to contemplate, so we won't even imagine it. Given sunshineand unlimited borrowing, we can struggle through. Think of it, mydears--I have invited over a hundred people, and we possess twelveteaspoons!"
Mollie gurgled with laughter in her hearty, infectious manner.
"I'd give up sugar for the day, and do without. That's one off thelist. Shall we ask the butler to send down a supply? I'm sure he hashundreds stowed away in those great plate-chests."
"My dear, no! I should not think of it!" cried Mrs Thornton, aghast."I can manage quite well without troubling the squire. Pray don'trepeat any of my thoughtless remarks to him. My husband says that mytongue runs away with me far too often."
Ruth protested politely, but Mollie preserved an unusual silence for therest of the visit. She was evidently thinking hard, and the result ofher cogitations was, that when she returned to the Court she paid asurprise visit to Mr Farrell in his sanctum.
The old man was sitting reading in his favourite chair, and as he lookedup it struck Mollie that he looked more alert than she had seen himsince her arrival. The voice in which he answered her greeting wascertainly less wearied and fretful than usual. He looked, if such amiracle could be believed, almost pleased to see her.
"Well,--so you have returned from your wanderings!"
"Yes, here I am, come to bother you again. There's a whole half-hourbefore you need begin to dress, and I've something very important totalk to you about."
"What does that mean, pray? More new dresses? I should have thoughtyou could hardly have come to the end of the last supply by this time."
"Goodness, no! They will last for years. It is something far moreimportant."
Mollie seated herself on a low chair directly opposite the old man,leant her elbows on her knees, her chin on her hands, and saidhesitatingly--
"Uncle Bernard!"
"Mary!"
"Do you remember the first evening we were here, when you spoke to usabout our visit? You said that you might possibly allow each of us inturn to act as master or mistress of the ceremonies for a short time?"
"I believe I did say something of the kind. It occurred to me that itmight be an interesting experiment."
"And did you mean that we could really do what we liked, about money andeverything else, just as if we were really and truly the real owner inyour place?"
Mr Farrell smiled somewhat grimly.
"If your sister asked me that question, I should say `Yes.' Knowing asI do your capacity for extravagance, I am a little more cautious.Within reasonable limits that is, however, what I meant to imply."
"Ah!" sighed Mollie deeply. "But it all depends on what you callreaso
nable. At any rate, you can only refuse, and things can be noworse than they are at present. Please, Uncle Bernard, may I begin myreign from to-day?"
"Your reign! You put it forcibly, my dear--more so than is perhapsquite pleasant in my ears. And you are the youngest of the four; yourturn should come last, not first. When the others have had theirtrial--"
"But they have never asked for it; they don't want it, and I do; and yousaid nothing about taking turns when you made the suggestion. If youlet me begin, they could take warning from my mistakes. I don't thinkyou would find they disliked the arrangement. Do, please, be kind andsay `Yes.'"
Mr Farrell reflected for a moment, bringing the tips of his fingerstogether.
"As you say, you are the first to express any desire to take me at myword. If it pleases you to assume the reins of government for a shorttime, I have no objection."
"You mean it really? I can begin at once, and give what orders I like?"
"Subject, as I have said, to some possible restrictions if yourenthusiasm carries you too far. There is evidently some big schemelooming behind this request. You had better let me know the worst atonce. What is to be your first extravagance?"
Mollie's head still rested in the cup of her hands. She looked at himsteadily, with a little flame of determination in her grey eyes.
"I am going to have the vicarage painted and papered from top to bottom.It's disgracefully shabby! The paper is hanging off the walls in someplaces, and where it isn't, it would be almost better if it were, it isso ugly and worn. It is too bad to expect Mr and Mrs Thornton to doall the hard, depressing work of the parish and keep bright and cheerfulthemselves, when their home is enough to give the blues to a clown! Itlooks as if it hadn't been touched for a century!"
Mr Farrell lowered his eyelids and sat in a grim silence, while theclock ticked a full two minutes. Mollie, watching his face, saw thethin lips grow thinner and thinner, as they were pressed the more firmlytogether; the horizontal lines in his forehead deepened into furrows.There was no mistaking the fact that he was displeased, and deeplydispleased, even before the cold eyes met hers once more.
"I had no intention now, or at any other time, of allowing you to assumecontrol over the whole parish! My proposition referred simply to thishouse and your own entertainment. I am still capable of looking aftermy own property."
"But--" began Mollie, and stopped short.
Even her courage failed before the obvious retort that the property wasnot looked after, but allowed to fall into dilapidation; but Mr Farrellunderstood without the need of words, and his eyes flashed with anger.
"You must permit me to judge for myself! When my day is over, whoevercomes into possession can squander my money as he or she sees fit, but Icannot hurry the time forward, however much you may desire it. You mustbe patient and wait. It may come sooner than you think."
Mollie sprang to her feet with an exclamation of mingled pain and anger.
"Oh, Uncle Bernard, how cruel! How can you say anything so horrid andunjust! It isn't true, and you know it isn't true, and I don't deserveit! I only asked for what you yourself suggested."
"I never suggested that you should interfere with my property, andcriticise what I had chosen to do or left undone. As for not deservingreproach, you must have made very sure of stepping into my shoes sinceyou wish to wear them while I am still here. No doubt I appear to you amere cumberer of the ground; but it is my ground, I would have youremember. You cannot take liberties with it yet awhile."
"I don't want it! I never want it! I'll go home to-morrow! You haveno right to taunt me like this!" cried Mollie, trembling with such astorm of indignation and wounded feeling as she had rarely known in herbright, easy-going existence.
A rush of ugly words came to her lips, and struggled for utterance,while Mr Farrell sank back in his chair, and lay crouched against thecushions, one thin hand pressed heavily over his heart. The look, theaction, brought Mollie to herself with a stab of recollection.
Whatever he had said to wound her pride, she had no right to forget hisweakness, his danger, his lonely, piteous age. Anger died a rapiddeath, and gave place to an even keener sympathy. When Mr Farrelllooked up again, it was to find the grey eyes wet with tears, and thelips trembling with emotion.
"Oh, you poor old man--you poor old man! Why will you make it sodifficult? Why won't you let us love you and be a comfort, instead of atrouble? We would, if you would allow us. We want to, but you keep usat arm's length, and scold and sneer. I am not thinking of myself. Iam young and strong, and I have my home and my dear little mother. Ishall be happy, whatever happens. It's _you_ I am sorry for! I hate tosee you ill and lonely. You have given a great deal to me; can't you begenerous enough to take something in return? There are only two monthsleft. The time is nearly half over. Can't we be friends--realfriends--until the end?"
She drew nearer as she spoke, and saw no rebuff in the watching face,until at last she sank on her knees before him, and timidly touched hishand.
"Uncle Bernard, speak! Say something to me!"
Still the old man hesitated; but his hand lay quietly in hers, and didnot try to escape.
"What can I say?" he asked slowly at last. "I believe you are a goodchild; I believe you are honest; but my days are past for makingfriendships. I have felt deeply in my time, but the power of lovingdied away with everything else which made life worth living. I cannotpromise what is impossible."
"But you can at least give me a chance of loving you. I won't ask anymore favours if you will just talk to me a little sometimes, withoutsneering at me, and let me walk with you about the grounds and be alittle bit of a companion. Will you? You might get to like me a littlebit in time, and it would not be quite so lonely."
"I can imagine things less impossible. You are a good child; butremember, Mollie, my liking or not liking has nothing to do with mychoice of an heir. The condition to which I referred might easily applyto one who appealed to me in no other way. It is only right to warnyou."
But the listener took no heed of the warning. Her face was one radiantbeam of delight.
"You called me `Mollie'!" she cried. "It was the very first time! Thatreally does sound as if we were going to be friends?"