A Colony of Girls Part 20

"Pray, don't apologize, Helen. It is of no consequence whatever." Miss Stuart spoke with studied indifference and withdrew her hand. She deemed it only her right to be first with her friends always and under all circ.u.mstances; and to have Helen, adoring, subservient Helen, relegate her to a position of secondary importance was an offense which merited instant punishment.

Jean and Nathalie, on the alert for any slight to their sister, exchanged significant glances.

Helen made no further demonstration of affection, but began to talk gently and courteously to her guest. Jean and Nathalie came valiantly to her a.s.sistance, until at last Miss Stuart was forced to respond to their friendly overtures. When they were leaving the dining room she slipped her hand into Helen's arm. It was the nearest approach to an apology of which her nature was capable, and Helen had fain to be content. All her life Miss Stuart had been in the habit of snubbing people at her own sweet will and had found it a diverting occupation; but somehow it hurt her to snub Helen, the girl was always so patient and generous about it.

They drifted quite naturally out onto the veranda. The sky was overcast, and a faint wind sighed among the trees. The heavy clouds promised rain, and the earth, after reveling in days of suns.h.i.+ne and nights of brilliant beauty, seemed wrapped in melancholy submission.

Before very long Nan and Emily came running across the lawn. Nan greeted Miss Stuart cordially, but Emily was very cool, and looked askance at this dangerously beautiful addition to their circle. When she had shaken hands, she faced the girls as solemn as a judge.

"Girls, what do you suppose has happened? The _Vortex_ has gone away, and those miserable men never came to say good-by, and did not even send a line."

"Now see here, Emily," Nan interposed warmly. "I don't believe in being unjust. It must have been a sudden move, and of course we will hear from them."

"It is a great shame," complained Nathalie. "What shall we do with ourselves?"

At Emily's first words Jean started forward, then fell back in her chair, dazed and stunned. She pressed her hand against her heart to stay its loud throbbing, pa.s.sionately grateful that the kindly darkness sheltered her from view. She could not tell how long it might have been when she was aroused by a sentence from Emily which arrested her attention.

"Yes, it is such a pretty st.i.tch. I'll teach it to you some day, Helen."

Had she heard aright? Could it be possible that the _Vortex_ was already forgotten--its officers banished to the indifferent past? Her sudden excitement died away and a dull feeling of pain tugged at her heart. Her hands dropped nervelessly into her lap, and her lids closed wearily over her aching eyes.

The conversation drifted into local channels, and Miss Stuart was beginning to feel very much bored when Eleanor and Cliff sauntered up the driveway and joined the party. She awaked from her apathy to survey Cliff critically, and then proceeded to monopolize his attention. Cliff dropped into a chair beside her and lent himself readily to her plan. She was a charming woman, a beautiful woman, so he a.s.sumed his most devoted manner, and apparently succ.u.mbed at once to her gracious, subtle flattery. Eleanor cast an amused glance at him over her shoulder; she felt too sure of him to be disturbed; and pus.h.i.+ng her way among the group until she reached Jean's side:

"I met Johnnie Matthews at the gate, dear. He was on his way to the manor with a note for you, and, since it required no answer, I volunteered to bring it up."

"Thanks, Eleanor. I suppose Mrs. Matthews wants me to take her cla.s.s again next Sunday. She has been ill."

Eleanor had dropped the note into Jean's lap and was moving away, but something in her friend's voice startled her. She looked at her curiously, but in that light she could not discern her expression. She hesitated a moment, and then sat down on the arm of Jean's chair.

"How is Gladys to-night?" she asked.

Jean made an effort to speak more naturally.

"Very comfortable, thank you. The doctor says her arm is doing nicely, and so far she has not had any fever."

"Eleanor, did you know the _Vortex_ had gone?"

As Nathalie spoke Eleanor impulsively took Jean's hand in hers. It was very cold, and trembled in her clasp. Jean's unhappiness was explained, and at the same moment another idea flashed through her mind. She answered Nathalie with well-feigned lightness:

"It can't be more than a temporary absence, I am sure." Then added in a lower tone to Jean, "Don't you want to read your note, dearie? It may not be from Mrs. Matthews."

Jean gave a start, and, instinctively, her disengaged hand closed over the note in her lap.

"I think I will take it to the light."

She rose hurriedly and made her way to the doorway, where the light from the lamp fell upon her letter. The handwriting was unfamiliar, and Jean's heart seemed to stand still as she tore open the envelope.

The opening words dispelled the last doubt; her whole expression changed, and she eagerly drank in the contents of the sheet, all unconscious of the pair of eyes that were watching her narrowly.

Nothing escaped Miss Stuart. She saw plainly the sudden start, the rising color, the tremulous happiness in the young girl's face.

Perhaps the sight stirred some strange memory, deep hidden in her heart, for she smiled bitterly, and answered some pleasantry of Cliff's with such stinging cynicism that even that languid youth was aroused to retort.

But to Jean the whole world was forgotten, as she read the lines:

MY DEAR MISS LAWRENCE:

It is with deep regret I write you that the _Vortex_ has been ordered up the Sound to survey a certain locality. Most unfortunately, our orders came very late. We have only just time to catch the tide by weighing anchor at once. I do not know whether you realize how great is my disappointment at leaving Hetherford, or how great is my regret at not seeing you before I go. Our stay, I trust, will not extend beyond a week, and I look forward with great pleasure to the time when we once more cast anchor in your harbor. I shall be anxious for news of little Gladys, and if I did not fear to presume, I should ask you to write me. Perhaps your goodness of heart will prompt you to forgive and indulge me at the same time. My address will be F----, which is the post-office nearest to our anchorage.

Yours faithfully, VALENTINE FARR.

Jean raised her eyes and let them rest on the group of people outside the doorway. No one, apparently, had a thought for her; for Miss Stuart had discreetly withdrawn her gaze, and they one and all seemed absorbed in the merry conversation. She longed to slip away to her own room, that she might be alone with her happy thoughts, but paused, irresolute, wondering, as she crumpled the note in her hand, if it would be unpardonably rude to leave her guests thus abruptly. Helen came to her rescue.

"Jean, will you please go up and see if Gladys is asleep?"

Jean nodded her head in a.s.sent, and gladly disappeared. Eleanor looked after her with a kindly smile, yet she sighed a little, notwithstanding.

"What would Nan do if she knew this?" she thought.

Shortly afterward a servant came to the door, bringing word that Miss Gladys was sleeping soundly, and that Miss Jean begged to be excused, as she had a headache.

In the night the rain fell heavily, and the rising wind sighed and sobbed like a child in pain, but Jean's dreams were sweet, and her last sleeping and first waking thoughts were of Valentine Farr.

CHAPTER XI.

DULL DAYS.

The days that followed were the quietest that this summer had brought to Hetherford. Not only had the _Vortex_ gone, but Wendell and Churchill had carried the other men off on the _Sylph_ for a long-planned fis.h.i.+ng excursion, and the girls were left to their own devices. This was too common an occurrence to be looked upon as a great hards.h.i.+p; yet it was quite obvious, even to Nan, that they did not revel so much in their once treasured independence, and that the old-time simple pleasures had somehow lost their zest. There was something strangely amiss in the little colony. Jean, who had always been depended upon to set the ball rolling, and to keep everyone in good spirits, failed them utterly. She was so quiet and absent-minded, so unlike her usual self, that Eleanor began to fear that her surmises in regard to the letter had been incorrect after all. Miss Stuart's presence at the manor acted as a great restraint upon everybody. She did not adapt herself in the least to their quiet, humdrum existence, and maintained a stoical silence that was especially irritating. The weather was very depressing. A fine drizzling rain fell persistently, the sky was gray and leaden, and the roads and lanes were almost impa.s.sable with the mud. The dampness r.e.t.a.r.ded Gladys' recovery, and she was fractious and troublesome. Poor Helen was in despair, for Miss Stuart was unreasonable enough to resent her spending so much time in the nursery, and took small pains to conceal the fact that she was almost bored to death.

By Friday Aunt Helen was seriously fretting over her niece, for Helen was looking pale and tired and seemed quite incapable of coping with the anxieties of housekeeping, Gladys, and the entertainment of her difficult friend.

On the afternoon of this day the rain ceased and Nathalie, in despair of any more interesting amus.e.m.e.nt, declared her intention to drive to the station to see the express arrive.

"Not that anyone ever comes here," she said dolorously as she drew on her driving gloves.

An hour later she burst into the drawing-room, her face radiant, her eyes twinkling. Helen sat before the low tea-table serving tea, Miss Stuart lounged in a huge armchair, while Jean was on her way between the tea-table and Miss Stuart, with a dainty cup in her hand. She paused, and looked expectantly at Nathalie.

"Well, cheer up, girls, for I have some news at last. Who do you think arrived to-day?"

Even Miss Stuart leaned forward in her chair, and lost something of her air of languor.

"Don't ask tiresome riddles, Nathalie," pleaded Jean, "but tell us."

"Mrs. Archer."

Miss Stuart looked blank; Helen laughed softly, and Jean handed Miss Stuart her cup of tea with a disgusted expression on her bonny face.