A Bevy of Girls Page 11

Nesta, who had been given explicit instructions by Marcia,to wheel her mother on to the balcony. Mrs Aldworth felt hot; she feltthirsty; she longed to have a drink of that cold water which wassparkling just beyond her reach. Even the penny paper was nowhere insight; her fancy work had dropped to the floor, and she had lost herthimble. How annoying of naughty little Nesta--why, the child wasalready an hour late!

  Mrs Aldworth managed in her very peevish way to ring her bell, whichwas, of course, within reach. The first ring was not attended to; sherang twice, with no better result. Then with her finger pressed on theelectric button, with her face very red and her poor hand trembling, shekept up a continued peal until Susan opened the door.

  Susan had been busy rushing backwards and forwards to the garden,putting everything in order for the advent of the Carters.

  "I beg your pardon, ma'am," she said. "I am sorry I kept you waiting;but isn't Miss Nesta here?"

  "No, she is not; why didn't you answer my ring at once?"

  "The young ladies, ma'am, are expecting one or two friends in thegarden, and I was helping them. I thought, of course, Miss Nesta waswith you."

  "She is not; I have been shamefully neglected. Tell Miss Nesta to cometo me at once."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Before you go, Susan, please pull down that blind."

  "Yes, ma'am, of course. I am sorry--the room is much too 'ot. Whateverwould Miss Marcia say?"

  Susan, who was exceedingly good-natured, did all in her power for hermistress; picked up her fancy work, found the thimble, moved the sofa alittle out of the sun's rays, and then saying she would find Nesta in ajiffy and bring her to her mother in double haste, she left the room.

  But the jiffy, if that should be a measurement of time, proved to be along one. When Susan did come back it was with a face full of concern.

  "I'm ever so sorry, ma'am, but Miss Nesta ain't anywhere in the house.I've been all over the house and all over the garden, and there ain't asign of her anywhere. Shall I call Miss Marcia, ma'am?"

  "Nonsense, Susan, you know quite well that Miss Marcia has gone to HurstCastle. She has gone to see the St Justs."

  Susan was not impressed by this fact.

  "Whatever is to be done?" she said.

  "Send one of the other young ladies to me. Send Miss Molly, it is herturn, I think, but send one of them."

  Now this was exactly what naughty Nesta had prophesied would happen,Molly, dressed in a pale blue muslin, which she had made herself, a paleblue muslin with little bows of forget-me-not ribbon all down the frontof the bodice, her hair becomingly dressed, her hands clean and white,with a little old-fashioned ring of her mother's on one finger, waswaiting to greet the Carters. The Carters were to come in by the lowergate; they were to come right through the garden and straight along thepath to the summerhouse. Ethel was in the summerhouse. She was inwhite; she was giving the final touches to the feast. It was a feast todelight the eyes of any tired guest, such strawberries, so large, soripe, so luscious; a great jug of cream, white, soft sugar, a pile ofhot cakes, jam sandwiches, fragrant tea, the best Sevres china havingbeen purloined from the cupboard in the drawing room for the occasion.

  "They haven't china like that at the Carters', rich as they are," saidMolly.

  Oh, it was a time to think over afterwards with delight; a time to enjoyto the full measure of bliss in the present. And they were coming--already just above the garden wall Molly could see Clara's hat with itspink bow and white bird-of-paradise feather, and Mabel's hat with itsblue bow and seagull's wings. And beside them was somebody else, someone in a straw hat with a band of black ribbon round it. Why, it wasJim! This was just too much; the cup of bliss began to overflow!

  Molly rushed on tiptoe into the summerhouse.

  "They're coming!" she whispered, "and Jim is with them! Have we gotenough cups and saucers? Oh, yes, good Susan! Now I am going to standat the gate."

  The gate was opened and the three visitors appeared. Molly shook handsmost gracefully; Jim gave her an admiring glance.

  It was just then that Susan, distracted, her face crimson, hurried out.

  "Miss Molly," she said, "Miss Molly!"

  "Bring the tea, please," said Molly, in a manner which seemed tosay--"Keep yourself at a distance, if you please."

  "Miss Molly, you must go to the missus at once."

  "Why?" said Molly.

  "She's that flustered she's a'most in hysterics. That naughty MissNesta has gone and run away. She ain't been with her at all. Missushas been alone the whole blessed afternoon."

  "I can't go now," said Molly, "and I won't."

  "Miss Molly, you must."

  "Go away, Susan. Clara, dear, I'm sorry that the day should be such ahot one, but you will it so refreshing in the summerhouse."

  "You have quite a nice garden," said Clara, in a patronising voice, butMabel turned and looked full at Molly.

  "Did your servant say your mother wanted you?"

  "Oh, there's no hurry," said Molly, who felt all her calm forsaking her,and crimson spots rising to her cheeks.

  "Oh, do go, please," said Clara. "Here's Ethel; she will look after us.Oh, what good strawberries; I'm ever so thirsty! Run along, Molly, youmust go if your mother wants you."

  "Of course you must," said Jim.

  "You must go at once, please," said Clara. "Do go. I heard what theservant said, she was in quite a state, poor thing."

  Thus adjured Molly went away. It is true she kept her temper until shegot out of sight of her guests; but once in the house her fury brokebounds. She was really scarcely accountable for her actions for aminute or two. Then she went upstairs and entered her mother's roomwith anything but a soothing manner to the poor invalid.

  "Is that you, Nesta?" said Mrs Aldworth, who from her position, on thesofa could not see who had entered the room.

  "No," said Molly, "it's not Nesta, it is I, Molly, and it is not my dayto be with you, mother. We have friends in the garden. Please, what isthe matter? I can't stay now, really; I can't possibly stay."

  "Oh, Molly, oh, I am ill, I am ill," said Mrs Aldworth. "Oh, this istoo much. Oh, my head, my head! The salts, Molly, the salts! I amgoing to faint; my heart is stopping! Oh, let some one go for thedoctor--my heart is stopping!"

  Molly knelt by her parent; for a minute or two she was really alarmed,for the flush had died from Mrs Aldworth's face, and she lay pantingand breathless on her sofa. But when Molly bent over her and kissedher, and said: "Poor little mother, here are the salts; now you arebetter, are you not? Poor mother!" Mrs Aldworth revived; tears roseto her eyes, she looked full at her child.

  "You do look pretty," she said, "very, very pretty. I never saw you inthat dress before."

  "Oh, mothery, it is too bad," said Molly, her own grievances returningthe moment she perceived that her mother was better. "It's that wickedlittle Nesta. Oh, mother, what punishment shall we give her?"

  "But tell me," said Mrs Aldworth earnestly, "what is the matter? Whatare you doing?"

  "Mother, you won't be angry--you know you are so fond of us, and we areso devoted to you. Oh, if you would excuse me, and let me go down andpour out tea for them. They are, my dear darling, Clay and MabelCarter, and we have tea in the summerhouse, and it's so nice."

  "Dear me," said Mrs Aldworth, "tea in the summerhouse, and you nevertold me?"

  "It was our own little private tea, mother. We thought it was our dayoff, and that you wouldn't want us."

  "And you didn't want me," said Mrs Aldworth.

  "Oh, mother, it isn't that we don't want you, but we do want to have ourfun. We can't be young twice, you know."

  "Nesta said that--Nesta is tired of me, too."

  "We are none of us tired of you."

  "Yes, you are," said Mrs Aldworth. "You know you are, you are alltired of me; Marcia is right. You may go, Molly."

  At that strange new tone, that look on the invalid's white face, a girlwith a better heart, with any sort
of real comprehension of character,with any sort of unselfishness, would immediately have yielded; butMolly was shallow, frothy, selfish, unreliable.

  "If you really mean it," she said--"we could quite well spare Susan."

  "It doesn't matter; you can go."

  "I'll send Ethel up presently, mother. It seems so rude just when theyhave come from such a long way off, in the burning sun and by specialinvitation. And there is Jim--you know, you always like us to