Only One Love, or Who Was the Heir Part 47

"Yes," said Una, offering her a gla.s.s, with a smile.

"She drinks nothing else," said Mrs. Davenant.

"That accounts for her complexion," said Lady Bell. "No, it doesn't! If I drank all the dairies in London dry, I shouldn't get such milk and roses on my cheeks."

"Don't turn her head," murmured Mrs. Davenant, under her breath.

Lady Bell laughed.

"My dear Mrs. Davenant, it is just what she wants! There isn't a spark of vanity in her composition; she isn't quite a woman, for no woman is without vanity. Look at her, as grave and stern as a judge!" and she touched Una's arm with her sunshade.

Una started--she had been wondering whether Jack would be there outside, on the drag, and was listening for his voice amongst those which came floating through the open window.

Trembling inwardly she followed Lady Bell out.

The four horses were champing and pawing impatiently.

The drag was nearly full, and, for a moment, Una saw only a confused group of women in dainty morning dresses, and of men in white flannel and cheviot. A second glance convinced her that Jack was not there.

As they appeared on the steps the laughter and voices ceased, and a well-bred glance of curiosity was turned upon her.

Lady Bell was, however, equal to the occasion.

"Come along, Una," she said, gayly. "f.a.n.n.y, will you make room beside you for Miss Rolfe?"

The Countess of Pierrepoint smiled.

"How do you do, Miss Rolfe!" she said graciously. "I hear you were at Lady Bell's dance last night; why did you let her hide you so completely?"

Una was silent.

Fortunately Dalrymple made so much bustle and fuss in starting, that conversation for a minute or two was impossible; and before that minute or two had pa.s.sed, Una had gained her self-possession.

Seated about, she recognized several of the people Lady Bell had pointed out on the preceding evening: Lady Clarence, Mrs. Cantrip, the Marchioness of Fairfield. Beside Dalrymple, who had all his work cut out in keeping the four spirited nags in good conduct in the crowded London streets, sat, as a matter of course, Sir Arkroyd Hetley, while one or two other men--one of whom she heard addressed as the viscount--was with the ladies.

Had Una been naturally nervous, her timidity could not long have existed in such an atmosphere.

Her companions were among the highest in the land; but there was less reserve and ceremony than would have been found in a similar gathering of middle-cla.s.s people. The men were laughing and chatting, ever and again turning round to make some light-hearted remark, or pa.s.s some joke round. They were all, it was evident, bent on enjoying themselves.

Very soon Una found herself brought into the conversation, Lady Bell talking to her continually, and pointing out the lions of the road.

The roses came back into Una's face in full bloom, her heart beat more lightly, and her spirits rose as the four impatient horses dashed along the roads which now ran through the beautiful vicinity of Richmond.

She had almost--almost--forgotten that Jack was not there, when happening to glance round suddenly at Lady Bell, she saw her looking dreamily before her, evidently lost in thought, with a wistful drooping of the bright red lips and a disappointed shadow in the dark eyes.

Then Una knew that it was not only she herself who felt the absence of the missing one.

However, Lady Bell soon rallied, and when they drove up to the hotel she was as bright as ever.

The luncheon had been sent up to Thames Dutton, one of the prettiest parts of the Thames, and it had been arranged that the gentlemen should row up to the island, hence the white flannel and cheviot costumes. They found boats awaiting them at the river side, and, with much laughing and gayety, started.

It was a beautiful scene, the river gleaming like a flood of silver between its banks of green meadows and stately trees, the three boats with their bright colored occupants. Una, who was of nature's own kin, was filled with delight; it was better than being at Warden. She leaned back in her comfortable seat in the stern of the foremost boat, rapt in silent enjoyment.

Lady Bell looked at her rather wistfully.

"How happy you look, child," she said, in a lower voice than usual.

"I am quite happy," said Una, simply.

"You are just the person for a picnic," said Lady Clarence. "I feel sure that you would look just as contented and serene if it rained in torrents, while the rest of us would be running about bemoaning our spoiled clothes."

Una laughed.

"I am not afraid of rain," she said.

"That's fortunate, Miss Rolfe," said Dalrymple, who was pulling stroke, and exerting himself n.o.bly, while Hetley, pulling behind him, allowed him to do all the work. "That's fortunate, as we shall be sure to have a shower or two--always do at a water picnic."

"No prophesying, marquis!" cried Lady Bell. "There isn't a cloud in the sky; there isn't a sign of wet."

"I'm sorry for that," he said, with mock gravity, "for I'm fearfully thirsty."

They paid no attention to this broad hint, however, until they were going through Teddington Lock, when Lady Bell produced some champagne and soda water, and Hetley made a cooling cup.

When it came to Una's turn--they all drank out of the same cup, a splendid silver tankard, chased with the Earlsley arms--she glanced at it askance and shook her head.

"But you must, my dear Una," said Lady Bell. "You will be parched."

"Let me have some water," said Una, and making a cup of her hand--a trick she had learned at a very early age--she bent over the boat and as quietly and naturally drank a draught.

The countess looked at her earnestly, and Sir Arkroyd muttered to Dalrymple:

"Where did she come from?"

"I don't know," said Dalrymple, in the same tone. "I'd stick to water all the day if she'd let me drink it out of the same cup. Isn't she beautiful--perfectly lovely!"

"Hush, she'll hear you," muttered Sir Arkroyd, warningly.

But he need not have feared.

Una sat like the dream-maiden in the ballad, deaf to all but the plash of the oars and the music of the birds.

Presently the stately pile of Hampton Court Palace glided, as it were, into their view, and with a long pull Dalrymple sent the boat to the island.

The two other boats were close behind, and then these grand people who were accustomed to be waited on hand and foot, got out and dragged hampers under the shadow of the oaks and willows; and the countess and Lady Clarence laid the cloth, while Lady Bell and the rest knelt beside the hampers and pulled out the things one by one. Then Sir Arkroyd was sent to lay the champagne bottles in the shallow water, and Dalrymple was handed a dish and the ingredients for making the salad.

In a few minutes luncheon was set out to the accompaniment of much laughter, and a few accidents. One of the champagne bottles had slid into the deep water, and disappeared to the bottom of the river to astonish the fish. The corkscrew followed it; and dismay fell on all, until the viscount calmly produced another from his pocket.

"Never go to a picnic without a corkscrew," he said, shaking his head.