The Long Vacation Part 37

Geraldine gave the s.h.i.+p her due admiration, and asked after the masque.

"Oh, that went off pretty well. I wouldn't have been Fely! All the ladies went and said 'Pretty dear!' when he sang his song about the bat's back. Disgusting! But then he has not been a fellow at school, so he made his bow and looked as if he didn't mind it."

"And Francie?"

"Francie looked perfectly stunning. Everybody said so, and she sang--well, she sang better than she did at home; but she was in an awful funk, though I kept on looking at her, and shouting bravo to encourage her; and she must have heard my voice, for I was just in front."

"I hope she was encouraged."

"But she is very stupid. I wanted to take her round to all the stalls, and show her what to buy with the five Jubilee sovereigns Uncle Fernan gave her, for you know she has never been anywhere, or seen anything. I thought she would like it, and besides, all our fellows say they never saw such an awfully pretty girl, and they can't believe all that hair is her own--she had it all down her back, you know--so I told them I would let them have a pull to try."

"Poor Francie! She declined, I suppose?"

"Well, there was that ridiculous swell, Fergus's cousin, Ivinghoe, and he has taken her off to see the stupid flowers in the conservatory. I told Sophy I wondered she permitted such flirting, but of course Francie knew no better."

"Oh! and you couldn't stop it?"

"Not I, though I called her over and over again to look at things, but Lord Ivinghoe always hung about and gave one no peace. So I just told Sophy to look after her, and came off to tell you. Oh my! here is old Miss Mohun coming up. I shall be off. I want some chocolate creams. Mrs.

Simmonds has got some splendid ones."

Miss Mohun was coming, in fact.

"Well, Geraldine, the masque was a great success. People beg to have it repeated, so many could not get in. And it is worth at least a hundred pounds to us. People whose opinion is worth having were quite struck.

They say your brother really ought to have been a great composer and singer."

"I think he might have been if he had not given up his real pa.s.sion to come to the help of my dear eldest brother. And he is really happier as he is."

"I knew there was conquest in his face. And that dear little elf of a boy--what a voice! So bright and so arch too. Then the Miranda--she took all by surprise. I believe half the spectators took her for the Little b.u.t.terfly."

"Ah, the poor Little b.u.t.terfly is flown. There was nothing for it but to make Francie act, as she had taken the part once before."

"Her acting was no great things, they say--ladylike, but frightened. Her voice is lovely, and as to her looks--people rave about them. Tell me, she is not Lady Travis Underwood's daughter?"

"Oh no; she is Anna's sister, Adrian's sister."

"So I told Lady Rotherwood, I was sure it was so."

"The Travis Underwoods have no children, but they adopted Emilia when I took Anna, and they have brought three Vanderkists to this affair.

Francie has never been from home before, it is all quite new to her."

Then recollecting what Adrian had repeated, she thought it fair to add, "My sister was left very badly off, and all these eight girls will have nothing of their own."

"Well, I don't suppose anything will come of it. I hope it will put no folly into her head; but at any rate it effaces that poor silly little Maura. I hope too, as you say your niece is so innocent, it will do her no harm."

"I don't suppose any possibilities have occurred to the child."

Lord Rotherwood here came on the scene.

"Jenny, there's an offer for your boy in the fool's cap, and Mysie doubts if she ought to let him go. Well, Mrs. Grinstead, I think you have the best of it. Lookers on, etc."

"Looking on has always been my trade."

"You heard the rehearsal of the masque, I believe, but you did not hear that charming Mona?"

"No; she had to take the part suddenly. Her uncle had to tyrannize over her, to save the whole thing."

"We are much indebted to him, and to her," said Lord Rotherwood courteously. "She looked as if she hated it all in the first scene, though she warmed up afterwards. I must say I liked her the better for her shyness."

"Her little brother thinks she recovered in consequence of his applause," said Geraldine, smiling.

"Ah! I saw him. And heard. A little square fellow--very st.u.r.dy."

"Yes, the Dutchman comes out in him, and he has droll similitudes, very curious in one who never saw his father, nor any but his Underwood relations."

"So much the better for him perhaps; I have, and ought to have, great faith in uncles' breeding. I am glad to meet Sir Ferdinand Travis Underwood. I have often come across him about London good works."

"Yes, he is an excellent man."

"Not wholly English is he, judging by the depth of colour in those eyes?"

"No; his mother was a Mexican, partly Indian. We used to call him the Cacique;" and Geraldine had the pleasure of telling his story to an earnest listener, but interruption came in the shape of Sir Ferdinand himself who announced that he had hired a steam-yacht wherein to view the regatta, and begged Lord Rotherwood to join the party.

This was impossible, as the Marquis was due at an agricultural dinner at Clarebridge, but in return, in the openness of his heart, he invited the Travis Underwoods to their dinner that evening at the hotel, where the Merrifields and the Underwoods were already engaged, little boys and all.

"Thank you, my lord, but we are too large a party. We have three Vanderkist girls with us, and Anna and her brother are to join them to be with their sister."

"Never mind, never mind. The great hall will have room for all."

Still Fernan demurred, knowing that Marilda had ordered dinner at the Quay Hotel, and that even liberal payment would not atone for missing the feasting of the millionaires; so the matter was compounded by his promise to bring all his party, who were not ready for bed, up to spend the evening.

And Geraldine perceived from Lady Rotherwood's ceremonious politeness that she did not like it at all, though she never said so even to Lady Merrifield.

However, it was a very bright evening. Gerald had sung himself into spirits, and then found Dolores, and retreated into the depths of the garden with her, explaining to her all about his sister, and declaring that his first object must be to rescue her; and then, unless his name was cleared, and he had to resume all his obligations, the new life would be open to him, and he had no fear of not succeeding as a journalist, or if not, a musical career was possible to him, as Dolores had now the opportunity of fully perceiving. His sweet voice had indeed filled her with double enthusiasm. She had her plan for lecturing, and that very morning she had received from her father permission to enter a ladies' college, and the wherewithal. She would qualify herself for lecturing by the time he had fixed his career; and they built their airy castles, not on earth, but on railroads and cycles, and revelled on them as happily as is common to lovers, whether in castle or in cottage.

Certainly if the prospect held out to her had been Vale Leston Priory, it would not have had the same zest; and when in the evening they joined the dinner-party, there was a wonderful look of purpose and of brightness on both their faces. And Emilia, who had been looking for him all the afternoon to tell him, "Gerald, I am really going to be a nurse," only got for answer an absent "Indeed!"

"Yes, at St. Roque's."

"I hope I shall never be a patient there," he said, in his half-mocking tone. "You'll look jolly in the cap and ap.r.o.n."

"I'm to be there all the time they are in America, and--"

"Well, I wonder you don't go and study the inst.i.tutions."

"But, Gerald--"

His eye was wandering, and he sprang forward to give Dolores a flower that she had dropped.

Lancelot, knowing what was before Gerald, and having always regarded Vale Leston with something of the honours of Paradise, could not understand that joyous look of life, so unlike Gerald's usual weary, pa.s.sive expression. He himself felt something of the depression that was apt to follow on musical enjoyment; he saw all the failures decidedly enough not to be gratified with the compliments he met on all sides, and "he bitterly thought on the morrow," when he saw how Clement was getting animated over a discussion on Church matters, and how Geraldine was enjoying herself. And as to that pretty Franceska, who had blossomed into the flower of the flock, he foresaw heart-break for her when he watched the Marchioness's countenance on hearing that her son had accepted Sir Ferdinand's invitation to cruise to-morrow in the yacht.

Vainly was Ivinghoe reminded of the agricultural dinner. He was only too glad to escape it, and besides, he thought he could be there in time.