CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
TOM ARRIVES.
Tom wrote by return to state that she considered Rhoda "a brick" forsending her such a "ripping" invitation; that it would be "great sport"to see her at home, and that she would arrive by the twelve o'clocktrain on the next Monday.
"She isn't pretty," Rhoda explained anxiously to Harold, the fastidious;"in fact, she's plain, very plain indeed. I'm afraid you won't likeher, but she likes _you_. She saw you on the platform at Euston, andsaid you were a `bee-ootiful young man,' and that she was broken-heartedthat she couldn't stay to make your acquaintance."
"Good taste, evidently, though unattractive!" said Harold, smiling."I'm sorry she's not good-looking, but it can't be helped. No doubt shemakes up for it in moral worth."
"Well, she does, that's perfectly true. I loathed and detested her atfirst, but I'm devoted to her now. She's just, and kind, and awfullyclever, and so funny that you simply can't be in low spirits when she'sabout. All the girls adore her, but you won't. She says herself thatmen can't appreciate her, so she's going to devote her life to women,out of revenge. Men never care for women unless they are pretty andtaking," cried Rhoda, with an air, and Harold protested sententiously.
"I'm the exception to the rule! I look beyond the mere exterior, to thenobility of character which lies behind. Dear Tom's lack of beauty isnothing to me. I am prepared for it, and shall suffer no disillusion."
He changed his mind, however, when at the appointed time "dear Tom"arrived, and stepped from the carriage on to the platform of the littlestation. When his eye first fell upon her, in response to Rhoda'sexcited, "There she is!" he felt a momentary dizzy conviction that theremust be a mistake. This extraordinary apparition could never be hissister's friend, but yes! it was even so, for already the girls weregreeting each other, and glancing expectantly in his direction. He wentthrough the introduction with immovable countenance, saw the two friendscomfortably seated in the pony carriage, and called to mind a message inthe village which would prevent him from joining them as he hadintended. He required a few minutes' breathing time to recover hisself-possession, and the girls drove off alone, not at all sorry, if thetruth were told, to be deprived of his company.
"Well, Fuzzy!" cried Tom.
"Well, Tom!" cried Rhoda, and stared with wondering eyes at theunaccustomed grandeur of her friend's attire. Thomasina had done honourto the occasion by putting on her very best coat and skirt, of a shadeof fawn accurately matching her complexion, while on her head wasperched that garment unknown at Hurst, "a trimmed hat." Fawn straw,fawn wings sticking out at right angles, bows of fawn-coloured ribbonwired into ferocious stiffness--such was the work of art; andcomplacent, indeed, was the smile of its owner as she met hercompanion's scrutiny.
"Got 'em _all_ on, haven't I?" she enquired genially. "Must do honourto the occasion, you know, and here's yourself all a-blowing, all a-growing, looking as fresh as a daisy, in your grand white clothes!"
"Indeed, then, I feel nothing of the kind, or it must be a very dejecteddaisy. You have heard the news, of course, and know that I am--"
"Plucked!" concluded Tom, pronouncing the awful word without a quiver."Yes. Thought you would be; you were so cheap that arithmetic morning.You can't do sums when you are on the point of fainting every secondminute... Very good results on the whole."
"Yes, but--isn't it awful for me? Don't you pity me? I never in mylife had such a blow."
"Bit of a jar, certainly, but it's over now, and can't be helped. Nouse whining!" said Tom calmly, and Rhoda gave a little jump in her seat.After all, can anyone minister to a youthful sufferer like a friend ofher own age? Tom's remarks would hardly have been considered comfortingby an outsider, yet by one short word she had helped Rhoda more than anyelderly comforter had been able to do. It was interesting andpraiseworthy to grieve over such a disappointment as she hadexperienced, to be sorrowful, even heart-broken, but _to whine_! Thatput an entirely different aspect on her grief! To whine was feeble,childish, and undignified, a thing to which no self-respecting girlcould stoop. As Rhoda recalled her tears and repinings, a flush ofshame came to her cheeks, and she resolved that, whatever she might haveto suffer in the future, she would, at least, keep it to herself, andnot proclaim her trouble on the house-tops.
When the Chase was reached, Tom was taken into the drawing-room andintroduced to Mrs Chester, who poured out tea in unusual silence,glancing askance at the fawn-coloured visitor who sat bolt upright onher chair, nibbling at her cake with a propriety which was asdisconcerting to the kindly hostess as it was apparently diverting toher daughter. Rhoda had been accustomed to see Tom play a hundred slytricks over this sociable meal, a favourite one being to balance a largemorsel on the back of her right hand, and with an adroit little tap fromthe left send it flying into the mouth stretched wide to receive it, andit tickled her immensely to witness this sudden fit of decorum. She satand chuckled, and Mrs Chester sat and wondered, until Tom politelydeclined a third cup of tea, and was dragged into the garden, withentreaties to behave properly, and be a little like herself, "I thoughtI was charming," she declared. "I tried to copy Evie, and look exactlyas she does when she is doing the agreeable. Didn't you notice thesmile? And I didn't stare a bit, though I was longing to all the time.You _do_ live in marble halls, Fuzzy, and no mistake! We could get thewhole of our little crib into that one room, and we don't go in for anyornaments or fal-lals. A comfortable bed to sleep in, and lots ofbooks--that's all my old dad and I trouble about."
Rhoda thought of the dismal little study at Hurst Manor, with the brokenchairs, and the gloves on the chimney-piece, and could quite imagine thekind of home from which the owner came; but she murmured littleincredulities, as in politeness bound, as she led the way in thedirection best calculated to impress a stranger. Tom did not pay muchattention to the grounds themselves, but she raved over the horses, andmade friends with all the dogs, even old Lion, the calf-like mastiff,who was kept chained up in the stable-yard because of his violentantipathy to strangers. When he beheld this daring young woman walkingup to his very side, and making affectionate overtures for his favour,he showed his teeth in an alarming scowl, but next moment he changed hismind, and presently Tom was pinching and punching, and stroking hisears, with the ease of an old acquaintance.
"I've never met the dog yet that I couldn't master!" she announcedproudly. "That old fellow would follow me all round the grounds asmeekly as a lamb, if he had the chance!"
"We won't try him, thank you; he might meet a messenger-boy _en route_,and we should have to pay the damages. Come along now, and I will showyou--" but at this opportune moment Harold came in view, saunteringround the corner of the stable, and Rhoda called to him eagerly, glad tobe able to impress him with a sense of Tom's powers.
"Harold, look here! See what friends Tom has made with Lion already.He lets her do anything that she likes. Isn't it wonderful?"
"By Jove!" exclaimed Harold, and looked unaffectedly surprised to seehis gruff old friend submitting meekly to the stranger's advances."Tastes differ!" was the mental comment, but aloud he said suavely,"Lion is a good judge of character. He knows when he has found afriend."
"Yes, they all recognise me. I was a bulldog in my last incarnation,"said Tom calmly, and by some extraordinary power which she possessed ofdrawing her mobile features into any shape which she chose, certain itis that she looked marvellously like a bulldog at that moment: twinklingeyes set far apart, heavy mouth, small, impertinent nose, all complete!Harold was so taken aback that he did not know what to say, but Rhodadragged laughingly at her friend's arm and cried,--
"Come along! Come along! It will soon be time to go indoors and dressfor dinner, and we haven't done half our round. I was going to take Tomto the links, Harold. She is a great golfer, and will be interested inseeing them. You'll come too, won't you?"
"With pleasure. They are just our own tame little links, MissBolderston, which we have faked up in the park. You won't
think much ofthem if you are a player, but they give an opportunity for privatepractice, and we have some good sport there occasionally."
"Ah, yes! How many holes?" enquired Tom, sticking one thumb between thebuttonholes of her coat, and tilting her head at him with such abusinesslike air that he felt embarrassed to be obliged to reply.
"Nine, with a little crossing about; some of the distances are veryshort, I'm afraid. Still, it has its points, and I've played on largerlinks with less enjoyment. We will take a short cut across here to thefirst hole. We start here, as you see, and a good full cleek shotshould land you on the green. There are only two holes which reallygive a chance for a driver. Now you can see the second green, but it'snot so easy a hole as it looks from here, for the grass is tussocky, andone almost always gets a bad lie for the approach."
"Yes, but why not drive for the green?"
"Well, you see, it's rather too far for a cleek, and too short for adriver. Sometimes I try it with a brassey, but on the whole I think thecleek is best. If you over-drive you get into awful trouble, as youwill see." So the course was gone over and explained, and Tom's eye wasquick to see the possibilities, and note the dangers, nor did shehesitate sometimes to differ from Harold's tactics.
"Well," said he, in conclusion, "what do you think of 'em? Rathersporting, aren't they?"
"Humph--yes!" said Tom. "That fifth hole is a little tricky, but Ithink they ought to be done in--er--What's your record?"
"M-well, it varies--of course. I'm no pro., but I can get round inforty, with luck."
"Forty! Humph!" Tom wheeled round on her heel, and gazed from right toleft with calculating eyes. Her lips moved noiselessly, then she noddedher head, and cried confidently:
"I'll take you! I'll play you to-morrow for the better man!"
"Done!" agreed Harold at once, but he straightened his shoulders as hespoke with a gesture which meant that he had no intention, if he knewit, of being beaten by a school-girl, and his sister looked forward tothe contest with very mingled feelings. If Tom lost, it would be adistinct blow; yet if Tom won, how Harold would dislike her! Howhopeless it would be to look for any friendship between them after that!She was glad that the game would have to be deferred for a day atleast, for an evening spent in Tom's company must surely instal her inpublic favour. When, however, she went to her friend's room to conveyher downstairs to dinner, Rhoda's confidence was shaken, and she nearlyexclaimed aloud in dismay at the apparition which she beheld.
Tom in full evening dress was a vision which had been denied to HurstManor, but on the present occasion she had evidently determined to payevery honour to her hosts, and bony arms and neck emerged festively froma shot-silk gown, which Rhoda felt convinced must have been a possessionof the long-deceased mother.
"What do you think of _that_?" Tom cried proudly, rustling round toconfront the new-comer, arms akimbo, and eyes twinkling withcomplacency. "There's a natty get-up! Quite a fashion plate, ain't I?The very latest from Par-ee. You didn't expect to see anything likethat, did you?"
"I didn't!" cried Rhoda, truthfully enough; but Tom suspected no satirein her words, and taking up the hand-glass, began twisting and turningbefore the mirror so as to get a view of her hair, which was no longerplaited into a pigtail, but screwed into a knot the size of a walnut,planted accurately in the middle of her head.
"I say, what do you think of my coiffure?"
Rhoda looked, and burst into a shriek of laughter. "Oh, Tom! that's it!I noticed there was something different, but couldn't think what itwas. Oh, no, no, Tom, you can't leave it like that! You must make itbigger, and wear it either high or low. It's too ridiculous--thatlittle button just in the very wrong place. Sit down for one moment,and I'll arrange it for you!"
But Tom beat her off resolutely with the hair-brush.
"I won't! It's my own hair, and I like it this way. It's _distingue_--not like every other woman you meet. Now that I've left school and amgrown-up, I must study _les convenances_, and it's fatal to becommonplace. I may be prejudiced, but it seems to me that in this get-up I'm a striking figure!"
The beaming good-humour of her smile, the utter absence of anythingapproaching envy or discontent, struck home to Rhoda's heart, andsilenced further protestations. She put her arm round Tom's waist, gaveher an affectionate grip, wishing, for perhaps the first time in herlife, that she herself had put on an older frock, so that the contrastbetween herself and her guest should be less marked in the eyes of thehousehold.
Alas! socially speaking, Tom was not a success. Mrs Chester wasplainly alarmed by her eccentricities; Mr Chester did not know whetherto take her in fun or in earnest; and Harold's languor grew more andmore pronounced. The very servants stared with astonishment at thepeculiar guest, and when dinner was over Rhoda, in despair, took Tom upto her own den to avoid the ordeal of an evening in the drawing-room.
Once alone, with closed doors and no critical grown-ups to listen totheir conversation, the hours sped away with lightning speed, while Tomtold of her own plans, sympathised with Rhoda's ambition, and let fallwords of wisdom, none the less valuable for being uttered in the mostcasual fashion. Every now and again the remembrance of her recentdisappointment would send a stabbing pain through Rhoda's heart, but, asshe had said, it was impossible to remain in low spirits in Tom'scompany, and if no one else enjoyed that young lady's society it wasprecious beyond words to her girl companion.
The game of golf was played as arranged, but though Harold came offvictor it was too close a contest to be agreeable to his vanity, or toincrease his liking for his opponent, while Mr Chester confided to hiswife that he could not understand Rhoda's infatuation for such aremarkably unattractive companion.
"If it had been that sweet little Miss Everett, now, she might havestayed for a year, and been welcome, but I confess I shall be glad whenthis girl takes her departure. She makes me quite nervous, sittingblinking at me with those little eyes. I have a sort of feeling thatshe is laughing to herself when she seems most serious."
"Oh, she could never laugh at you, dear. She couldn't be so audacious!"declared Mrs Chester fondly; "but I can't bring myself to like her, andwhere her cleverness lies is a mystery to me. I never met a moreignorant girl. She can neither sew nor knit nor crochet, and theremarks she made in the market yesterday would have disgraced a child often. I pity the man who gets _her_ for his wife!"
But, as we have seen, Thomasina had other ideas than matrimony for herown future. As she drove to the station by Rhoda's side she fell intoan unusual fit of silence, and emerging from it said slowly:
"I'm glad I've seen your home, Fuzzy. It's very beautiful, and veryhappy. You are all so fond of one another, and so nice and kind, thatit's a regular ideal family. I think you are a lucky girl. I like allyour people very much, though they don't like me!"
Rhoda exclaimed sharply, but Tom's smile was without a shadow of offenceas she insisted--
"My dear, I know it! Don't perjure yourself for the sake of politeness.I'm sorry, but--I'm accustomed to it. Strangers _don't_ like me, andit's not a mite of use trying to ingratiate myself. I did all I knewwhen I came here. I wore my best clothes, I tried to behave prettily,and you see, dead failure, as usual! You needn't look doleful, for nodoubt it's all for the best. If I were beauteous and fascinating Imight be distracted from my work, whereas now I shall devote myself toit with every scrap of my strength. Girls love me, and I love them, soI'll give up my life for their service. We have all our vocation, andit would be a happier world if everyone were as well satisfied as I am.`In work, in work, in work always, let my young days be spent.' Botherit! Here's the station already, and I haven't said half I wanted to!"
"Nor I to you. It's horrid to say good-bye, and think of school withoutyou, but you'll write to me, won't you, Tom? You will promise to writeregularly?"
"Indeed, I won't! Fifty odd girls implored me to write to them, andit's too big an order. No, my dear Fuzz, I shall have no time to tellyou h
ow busy I am. Here we part, and we must leave it to fate or goodfortune when we meet again. Bless you, my infant! Perk up, and be acredit to me."
"But--but--how am I to know, how am I to hear what happens to you? I_can't_ say good-bye and let you fade away completely, as if we hadnever met. It's horrible. You _must_ let me know!"
"Look in the newspapers. You will see my doings recorded in the PublicPress," replied Tom, as she skipped into the carriage. Rhoda looked onblankly, her heart sinking with a conviction that Tom did not care; thatit was nothing for her to say good-bye and part without a prospect ofreunion. She was too proud to protest, but, waving her hand, turnedabruptly away and walked out of the station. The train lingered,however, and the temptation to take one more peep became too strong tobe resisted, so she ran along the path for twenty or thirty yards, andpeered cautiously through a gate from which a sight of the carriage inwhich her friend sat could be commanded. Tom had leant back in herseat, and flung her hat on one side; her little eyes were red withtears, and she was mopping them assiduously with a ball-like pockethandkerchief!