CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
THE DAY OF THE PARTY.
The morning of the garden-party was bright, almost perilously brighteven for June; but there was exhilaration in the sight of the blue sky,dappled with fleecy white clouds, which formed such an exquisitecontrast to the velvety green of the landscape, and a delicious sense ofluxury in strolling about in the sun, and feeling rid at last of thetreacherous wind.
The squire's guests breakfasted upon the terrace, to the milddisapproval of Mrs Wolff, who could not understand why people could notbe content to remain comfortably indoors, instead of picknicking ingipsy-like fashion on every possible occasion. Her small, pinched faceexpressed the annoyance which she had not the courage to put into words,and as soon as her duties were over she hurried back to the shelter ofthe house. Immediately she had disappeared Jack boldly demanded anothercup of coffee, and set to work on toast and marmalade with a freshaccess of appetite.
The opportunity was too good to be resisted. Ruth flew indoors for hercamera, and stood a few yards off focusing the table and its occupants,and waiting for a picturesque moment in which to snap. It came at last,just as Jack was forgetfully indulging in an enormous bite, a bachelorhabit which had become a standing joke among his companions. Mollie hadstolen a half-eaten piece of toast from his plate one morning, andmeasured the gap with an inch tape, to his everlasting embarrassment, sothat the pictured memorial was hailed with delight.
Needless to say, Jack wished to have his revenge, and immortalise Molliescraping the sugar out of the bottom of the cup in school-girl fashion,and finally Bates was pressed into the service and instructed how tosnap, so that a complete group might be taken.
By this time it was ten o'clock, and Mollie announced her intention ofgoing down to the vicarage to help in the final preparations for theafternoon's entertainment. She took for granted that Ruth wouldaccompany her; but Miss Ruth had her own ideas as to the employment ofthe next few hours, and they had nothing to do with Mrs Thornton'sgarden-party.
On her way downstairs to breakfast she had overheard Victor telling aservant that he had no orders for the stables this morning. Theinference was, therefore, that he intended to stop at home, and thethought had instantly darted into her mind that if Mollie went off tothe vicarage there would be an hour or two before lunch, when--when--
Ruth blushed guiltily to herself when she got so far in hercalculations; but it was such a delight to enjoy a quiet _tete-a-tete_talk sometimes, instead of the general impersonal conversation. So itcame to pass that when Mollie announced her intention of going down tothe vicarage to help in the final preparations, Ruth absolutely refusedto accompany her.
"I've done my share," she said. "To-day I am going to be a visitor pureand simple, and drive down when everything is ready for my reception."
Mollie shrugged her shoulders resignedly.
"Well, somebody has got to do it, and, thank goodness, I'm not poor-spirited enough to leave a friend in the lurch at the last moment! Ishan't be satisfied until I see the last chair in order; but I don't seeany reason why I should walk. There is a pony-carriage in the stables,and if anyone had any nice feeling they would drive me there and back!"
Jack laughed, and limped across the terrace.
"Anyone, singular; they, plural! Your grammar is deficient, MissMollie; but I suppose your modesty forbade you to be more explicit. Ihave lots of good-feeling, and nothing to do, so I shall be charmed toescort you, if you will give the order. It would take me too long toget down to the stables."
It was evident that Jack's offer was pleasing to Mollie, for she thankedhim with a smile as bright as her words, and a quarter of an hour lateron they were driving together across the park behind the sleek littlepony, Mollie chatting gaily as usual, Jack listening with an air halfamused, half bored. Despite his accident, he was looking strong andwell, his skin bronzed by the outdoor life of the last few weeks; butthe old haughty, intolerant expression, which had seemed his chiefcharacteristic at first meeting, was still noticeable in curving lip andnostril. Not an easy man to convince against his will, nor one to beeasily affected by the presence of a pretty girl.
"How cross Uncle Bernard was when I told him about the mysterioushamper! One would think he grudged poor Mrs Thornton having anythingnice!" said Mollie severely. "He nearly snapped my head off when Iasked if he had sent it. I should not have thought much of that, if hehad not denied it in so many words, for he might have been trying to putme off; but after what he said there can be no more doubt on thesubject. I wonder who could have sent it? Mrs Thornton says she willnever rest till she finds out."
Jack flicked the pony impatiently.
"Why can't she be content to take it quietly, and not worry any more?That's the worst of women--they must make a fuss! If the man who sentit wanted to be thanked, he would have put in a card. If he didn't, itshows that he prefers to be anonymous, and it's bad taste to goferreting round trying to find out what she is not intended to know. Ishould tell her so straight, if I were you."
"No, you wouldn't, because, being a woman, you would be consumed withcuriosity, as I am. Now, I wonder why you said the `man'?" queriedMollie, tilting her head on one side, and staring at him withmischievous eyes. "What makes you think it was a man? Couldn't it aseasily have been a woman?"
"Oh, quite; but I prefer to use one pronoun and stick to it, instead ofmuddling them up as you do. Why are you always in such a hurry to snapa fellow up?" cried Jack irritably.
Mollie made a naughty little _moue_.
"I thought it was the other way about! I was most mild and lamb-like,when you snubbed me for my grammar, abused my sex, and accused me of badtemper. It shows how little you know of my beautiful disposition!"
Jack flicked the pony again, his face darkened by a frown.
"No, I don't know you--how should I? You never give me a chance. Youshow me only the frivolous side of your character. You are alwayslaughing, joking, frivolling. In all these weeks I have only once had aglimpse of your real self. You evidently do not wish me to know you inany real or intimate sense; but that is your own fault, not mine."
"If you have seen it only once, it cannot be my real self," said Molliequietly. She had grown, not red but white, as she listened to Jack'swords, and her heart had begun to beat in an agitating fashion hithertounknown. She felt as if somebody had suddenly dealt her an unexpectedblow, for until this moment she had fondly imagined herself to be goodfriends with Jack Melland. "You do not know me, because, perhaps, thereis nothing to know, beyond the frivolous, silly creature you dislike somuch!"
"There you go again, exaggerating and catching up my words! Who said Idisliked you? We were not talking of likes or dislikes. We weretalking of knowing each other properly. I wouldn't trouble my head ifyou were an ordinary, empty-headed girl, but I know you are not. Thereis another side to your character, and I want to see and know you in it,but you evade me, and refuse to show yourself. I suppose I am not worththe trouble of talking to seriously?"
Mollie shook her head dejectedly.
"I am not evading, I am not hiding anything. I'm nineteen, and out fora holiday. It's the first taste of luxury I've ever known. I enjoyedit so much,"--unconsciously to herself she used the past, not thepresent, tense--"that surely it was natural for me to be light-hearted.I am not highly educated, and I've lived a very quiet life. It's onlynatural that I seem stupid in comparison with other girls you have met.I suppose they are very clever and well read?"
Jack kept his eyes on the road, mentally classifying the girls with whomhe had been most closely brought in contact in his town life. Yes! theywere for the most part accomplished and clever; but were they not alsoapt to be discontented with their lot, given to grumbling at therestrictions of home life, and to imagine themselves ill-used andunappreciated? Mollie's radiant good-humour and unconsciousness of selfwere qualities unknown among them. What poor, anaemic images theyappeared beside her! Yet he was continually provoked by the veryc
heerfulness which he mentally approved. Jack frowned, puzzled anddisquieted. As a rule, he was at no loss to account for his prejudices,but for once he found himself completely mystified. What exactly was itthat he wanted of Mollie Farrell, the lack of which rankled in hisveins? He could not tell, and annoyance with self gave an added touchof irritation to his tone.
"Oh, if you cannot distinguish between becoming a bookworm and talkingseriously once in a way, there is no more to be said! I'm sorry Ispoke. Now I suppose you will be offended with me, and the day will bespoiled?"
It was not a gracious speech, but Jack did not feel gracious, and he hadnot much control over his temper. An inner voice informed him that hewas behaving like a cad, and he acknowledged the truth of theindictment, while in the same moment he was prepared to reply moreirritably than before.
He had not the chance, however, for Mollie's eyes met his without thefaintest shadow of reproach. There was a subtle change in herexpression, but it spoke neither of offence nor anger.
"No, I am not vexed; that would be stupid, for it would only make thingsworse. It is my nature to look on the bright side of things. I know Iam thoughtless, but it won't last. I shall be serious enough some day--perhaps sooner than we think. Don't grudge me my little hour!"
The face raised to his looked so young and wistful that Jack felt a pangof the same remorse which one feels who has wounded a little child. Heaverted his eyes and drove on in silence, thinking, thinking.--Theclever town girl would have been mortally insulted if he had dared tocriticise her manners or attainments, and would have justified herselfby a dozen plausible arguments. Mollie was ready to admit everythingagainst herself, and only anxious to save him from any feeling ofembarrassment.
She talked on impersonal topics all the rest of the way to the vicarage,and her smile when she bade him good-bye was resolutely cheerful, but hehated himself as he realised that for the first time there was an effortinvolved. As he turned the pony round the corner of the little lanewhich bordered the lawn he heard Mrs Thornton's surprised exclamation,"Why, Mollie!" and the half-laughing exclamation, "It's nothing! Thesun is so strong, it made my eyes--smart!"
Jack Melland set his teeth and drove on in a tumult of feeling such ashe had never known before in the course of his self-satisfied existence.Blundering, presumptuous wretch that he was! If any trouble came toMollie Farrell, he would feel as guilty as if he himself haddeliberately brought it to pass!