The Eldest Son Part 43

But Miss Phipp was not in the schoolroom. "You go and put on your hats, and I'll go and find her," said Miss Dexter.

"Mother wasn't annoyed with us," said Joan. "We said we were quite polite. We were, weren't we?"

"Your manners were a lesson to us all," said Miss Dexter.

Miss Phipp was in her bedroom, and Miss Dexter proffered the invitation, of which she took no notice. "It's perfectly preposterous," she said, turning an angry face upon her. "If this is the sort of thing that is to happen my position here will be impossible."

"My dear girl, you shouldn't lose your temper," said Miss Dexter.

"They were quite right. You've no right to expect them to work in their playtime. Besides, you shouldn't have told Mrs. Clinton that they were disobedient. Come out and see their rabbits and guinea-pigs."

"I shall do nothing of the sort," said Miss Phipp. "I shall reconsider my position. I will not stay and teach girls who are encouraged to set my authority at naught."

"Look here, Janet," said Miss Dexter firmly. "You are going the wrong way to work here. You have every chance of having a real good time, and doing something useful besides, but you can't behave in a private family as if you were in a school."

For answer Miss Phipp burst into most feminine tears. "I'm not well,"

she sobbed. "I've got a splitting headache after yesterday's journey, and I've lost control over myself."

"Well, lie down for a bit," advised Miss Dexter. "You'll have the whole day to yourself, and you needn't begin to think about work until Monday. I'll put a match to your fire. Is there anything you'd like?

If there is I'm sure you can have it."

"I'm a fool," said Miss Phipp, drying her eyes. "For goodness' sake don't let those two know I broke down. I dare say I was wrong, but I do want to do all I can to get them on quickly."

"I know you do. And you'll have no difficulty when the proper time comes. They're clever girls, and nice ones too. They are quite upset at the idea of having upset _you_."

"Are they?" said Miss Phipp drily. "Well, I think I _will_ lie down for a bit and take some Phenacetin. No, I don't want anything else.

If I do, I can ring the bell."

So she was left to herself, and Miss Dexter accompanied the twins in their various errands of mercy, and expressed unbounded admiration of the breeding and intelligence of the rodents submitted to her inspection, after which they took her for a walk round the rhododendron dell.

They, were a little less ready with their conversation than usual, for the late episode had been something quite new in their experience and given them occasion for thought. At last Miss Dexter said, "If you are worrying about Janet Phipp, I shouldn't, if I were you. She's a good sort, and you'll get on with her all right."

"I hope we shall," said Joan, "but I'm inclined to doubt it. She's so _very_ different to the old starling. We had any amount of fun with her, but then, we loved her."

"Well, you'll love Miss Phipp when you know her. I've known her for--well, I won't tell you how many years, but we're neither of us chickens, as you can see."

"And do you love her?" asked Nancy.

"I used to, and I should again if I saw anything of her."

"Well, that's something in her favour," said Joan. "But Nancy and I will have to talk it over and settle our course of action."

"Well, talk it over now. I shan't repeat anything you say."

"We like you very much," said Nancy. "But as you're a friend of hers, we might not like to speak quite plainly. It's rather a serious situation."

"Oh, you can talk quite plainly before me. I can see the situation well enough, and it isn't as serious as you think. She has never been in a private family before, and has had no experience except with a horde of schoolgirls. Of course you have to keep a tight hand over them, and when they're at school n.o.body has authority over them except the teachers. She'll soon tumble to it that your mother has more say in things than she can have. But you mustn't always be appealing to your mother against her."

"Of course we shouldn't do that," said Joan indignantly. "We never did with Starling, except in fun."

"Besides, we are quite capable of controlling the situation by ourselves, when once we've settled on a course of action," said Nancy.

Miss Dexter laughed. "I've no doubt you are," she said. "Only give her a chance. That's all I ask."

"I suppose you don't object to our exercising our humour on her?" asked Nancy. "We have our reputation to keep up. And you must admit that she was rather trying this morning."

"Look here," said Miss Dexter. "She's been ill, and she's not well now. You may think it funny, but when I went in to see her just now she cried."

"Oh, poor darling!" exclaimed Joan. "Of course we'll be kind to her, won't we, Nancy?"

"We'll think it over," said Nancy. "We mustn't be sentimental. You're rather inclined to it, Joan. She may have shed tears of rage at being thwarted."

"You're a beast," said Joan uncompromisingly. "I hate to think of people being unhappy."

"You see," Miss Dexter put in, "she's suffering under a great disappointment. She's a splendid teacher and was getting on awfully well, and then she broke down and has had to take a private job. Many people would much prefer to live in a place like this, and have a good time, instead of toiling hard at a school. But, for her, it's good-bye to a career in life, and she can't help feeling rather sore about it."

"Poor darling!" exclaimed Joan again. "We'll take her to our hearts and make up for it. Don't you be afraid, Toby dear--you don't mind us calling you that, do you?--if Nancy misbehaves I know how to deal with her."

"I don't want to misbehave," said Nancy, "and if I did you couldn't stop me. If she treats us well we'll treat her well. I shan't make any rash promises. I think we'd better be getting back now. People will begin to turn up soon, and it's such fun to see them."

They went back to the house, and presently there came riding up the drive two men in pink, and immediately after there came a dogcart and then a carriage and then more men on horses and a lady or two, and after that a constant succession of riders and people on wheels and on foot, until the open stretch of park in front of the house was full of them.

And at last the huntsman and whips came trotting slowly along the drive and on to the gra.s.s, and the hounds streaming along with them waving their sterns, a useful, well-matched pack, much alike in the ma.s.s, but each with as much individuality as the men and women who thronged around them.

Then the members of the hunt began to drift by twos and threes into the house and into the dining-room, where the Squire was very hospitable and hearty in pressing refreshments on them--"just a sandwich, or something to keep out the draught," he kept on repeating, full of pleasure at being able to feed dozens of people who didn't want feeding, and quite forgetting for the time being his fears as to the effect of Virginia's presence.

Virginia, not wis.h.i.+ng any more than he to make herself a centre of the occasion, was on her horse already, and d.i.c.k was with her, and a handsome pair they made. So thought old Aunt Laura who had had herself drawn up by the porch in her Bath chair, as far away as possible from "the horses' hoofs." She had just heard that a marriage was about to take place in the family and was full of twittering excitement at the news.

"My nephew," she said, meaning the Rector, "told me the glad news only this morning, my dear. I am overjoyed to hear it, and to have the opportunity of seeing you so soon. Please do not bring your horse too close, if you do not mind. I am somewhat nervous of animals."

"I'll bring her to see you this evening, Aunt Laura," said d.i.c.k, "or, if she's too tired, to-morrow morning."

"I shan't be too tired," said Virginia, smiling at the old lady. "d.i.c.k has often told me about you, Miss Clinton, but you know I have never been in Kencote before."

The Rector had given Aunt Laura some hint of the difficulty there had been over the engagement, and she said soothingly, "I know, my dear, I know. But I have no doubt you will be here very often now, and I am sure n.o.body will be more pleased to see you than I shall. Dear me, what with Walter and Cicely being married two years ago and d.i.c.k and Humphrey about to be married, one feels one belongs to a family in which things are always happening. I only wish that my dear sisters had been alive to take part in it all. They would have been so pleased. But the last of them died last year, as no doubt d.i.c.k has told you, and I am no longer able to welcome you in our old home. But I have a very nice little house in the village, and if you will come and drink a cup of tea with me I shall feel great gratification, and I will show you some of my treasures. Tell me, d.i.c.k, for my eyes are not quite what they were, is that our Cousin Humphrey?"

It was, in fact, Lord Meads.h.i.+re, who in spite of a cold, which made him hoa.r.s.er than ever, had driven over with his daughter, and now, looking frail and shrunken in his heavy fur coat, but indomitably determined to make the best of life, came slowly across the gravel to greet once again the only member of his own generation left alive amongst all his relations.

"Well, Laura," he said, "this is like old times, eh?" and then he recognised Virginia, and showed, although he did not say so, that he was pleasantly surprised to see her there.

"You have heard, I suppose, Humphrey," said Aunt Laura, with obvious pride in being first with the news, "that we are shortly to have yet another wedding in the family. I have not seen dear Edward yet; I have no doubt he is busy indoors, but will be out soon--and I shall be able to tell him how glad I am that everything is happily settled."

Lord Meads.h.i.+re's sharp old eyes twinkled up at Virginia, and at d.i.c.k, who said, "Don't you say anything to him about it yet, Aunt Laura.

He's not quite ready for it"; and Lord Meads.h.i.+re added, "You've been given early news, Laura. We must keep it to ourselves until it is published abroad--what? My dear"--this to Virginia--"I needn't tell you how glad I am, and I wish you every possible happiness and prosperity."

He stayed to chat for a few minutes with Aunt Laura after Virginia and d.i.c.k had moved away. "It seems but yesterday," said Aunt Laura, "that my dear father, who, of course, kept these hounds, entertained his friends here in just such a way as this, and I was a little girl with all my dear sisters, and you were a young man, Humphrey, very gay and active, riding over and talking and laughing with everybody. And it is just the same pretty scene now as it was then, although all the people who took part in it are dead, except you and I."

"My dear Laura," wheezed Lord Meads.h.i.+re, "I'm gay and active now, if it comes to that, and so are you, in your heart of hearts. Come, let us forget that tiresome number of years that lies behind us and go and amuse ourselves with the rest. If I stand out here in the cold, I shall have Emily after me--what?"