The Honorable Miss Part 12

"Hoots, child! What should an old lady have to say to a gay young lad?"

"Plenty, I a.s.sure you. I am being delightfully amused," replied the captain.

He gave Beatrice an angry look which she would not see.

"I want to talk to Jane about the supper," said the young lady in a calm voice. "Captain Bertram, may I introduce you to Mr. Jones?"

Again she flew lightly away, and the captain owned to himself that the tennis party at the Gray House was a very dull affair.

Supper, however, made amends for much. The incongruous elements were not so apparent. Everybody was hungry, and even the most fastidious had to acknowledge the fare of the best. Captain Bertram quite retrieved his character in Beatrice Meadowsweet's eyes, so well did he help her in serving her guests. Matty, Alice and Sophy Bell forgave him for his abrupt departure earlier in the evening from the charms of their society, when he helped them each twice to lobster salad.

Captain Bertram was not at all averse to the charms of a small flirtation. He was forced to remain for a few days in the remote little world-forgotten town of Northbury, and it occurred to him as he helped the Bells to lobster salad, and filled up Miss Matty's gla.s.s more than once with red currant wine, that Beatrice could solace him a good deal during his exile from a gayer life. He was absolutely certain at the present moment that the best way to restore himself to her good graces was once again to endure the intellectual strain of the Bells' society.

Accordingly when supper was over, and people with one consent, and all, as it were, moved by a sudden impulse, joined first in a country dance, then formed into sets for quadrilles, and finally waltzed away to the old-fas.h.i.+oned sound of Mrs. Meadowsweet's piano, played with vigor by the good lady herself, Captain Bertram, with a beseeching and deprecatory glance at Beatrice, who took care not to see it, led out Miss Matty Bell as his partner.

How much that young lady giggled! How badly she danced--with what rapture she threw up her round eyes at her partner's dark face, this chronicle need not record; so _nave_ was she, into such ecstasies did every word spoken by the captain throw her, that he quite feared for the result.

"It is awful when a girl falls in love in five minutes!" he mentally soliloquized. "I wonder if I have satisfied Miss Meadowsweet now? I do honestly think I have done my duty by Miss Matty Bell."

So he conveyed the gus.h.i.+ng young person back to her sisters, and sought for Beatrice who was once more frank and friendly, but gave him excellent reasons for not dancing with him.

At this moment Catherine came up and touched her brother. Her cheeks had a bright color in them, she looked animated and happy.

"Loftus, it is close on twelve o'clock. We must go home. Look at Mabel,"

she added, seeing her brother hesitate, "she is frightfully sleepy.

Mother never allows her to be up so late. We have had a happy evening,"

continued Catherine, looking full into Miss Meadowsweet's face, "and we are very much obliged to you. Now I must go and say good-night to your mother."

She tripped away, and Beatrice looked after her with affectionate eyes.

"It is unkind of you not to give me one dance," said the captain.

She had forgotten his presence.

"It is not unkind," she said. "The dancing is altogether an impromptu affair, and I had to attend to my guests. I was talking to your sister, Catherine, who did not care to dance."

"Very ungenerous to me," pursued the captain. "A poor return for all my efforts to please you."

"Your efforts--pray, what efforts?"

"Did you not observe me with your friend, Miss Matty Bell? I a.s.sure you she and I are now excellent friends."

"I do not suppose in my mother's house you would be anything else, Captain Bertram."

Her tone irritated the captain. His manner changed.

"Do you think I _wanted_ to dance with her?"

"I don't think about it. Here is your sister. I will help you to find your wraps, Catherine."

She linked her hand through Catherine Bertram's arm, and went with her into the hall. A few moments later the brother and sisters were walking quickly home.

"So you have come to Christian names already, Catherine," said Loftus.

"Yes," replied Catherine. "She is the very dearest girl. Have we not had a delightful evening?"

"Delightful, truly. How did you enjoy yourself, Mab?"

"Middling," replied Mabel. "I was with Mr. Jones, and he talked about vestments, and deplored the Rector's decision against High Church practices. He thought we were kindred souls, but we weren't, and I told him so. Then he turned crusty. I waltzed twice with Mr. Bell, and he kicked my ankle, and hurt me very much. I don't think I cared much for the party, Catherine, the people were so queer."

"Were they?" answered Catherine. "I didn't notice anything the matter with them. I talked for a short time with Mrs. Meadowsweet, and found her most interesting. She told me a lot about Beatrice. She thinks Beatrice the n.o.blest creature in the world. As I very nearly agreed with her we got on capitally."

"What a romantic puss you are, Kate," said her brother.

She was leaning on him, and he gave her arm a playful pinch.

"You met Miss Meadowsweet on Tuesday, wasn't it? This is Friday, and she is the 'very dearest girl in the world,' and already you are Catherine and Beatrice to one another. Upon my word, hearts move rapidly towards each other in certain quarters."

"In more quarters than one," replied Kate, with an arch smile. "How you did flatter that poor little Miss Bell, Loftie. Her cheeks were like peonies while you talked to her. You certainly had an air of great tenderness, and I expect you have turned the poor little thing's head."

"Yes, Loftus," interrupted Mabel. "I remarked you, too, with Miss Bell.

What a little fright she is--I never could have supposed she was in your style."

"Good gracious," began Loftus, "you didn't think--"

But Catherine in her sedate voice interrupted him.

"Beatrice and I were watching you. I laughed when I saw that expression of tenderness filling your glorious dark eyes, but I think Bee was vexed."

"Vexed? No, Kate, surely not vexed?"

"I think so, Loftus. She said to me--'I hope your brother is not laughing at my little friend, Matty Bell.' Then she added, 'I know Matty is not beautiful nor specially attractive, but she has the kindest heart.' I said perhaps you were flirting, and that I knew you could flirt. She did not make any answer, only she looked grave, and turned away when you and Miss Bell came near us."

"That accounts," began Loftus. He did not explain himself further and by-and-by the little party reached the Manor.

There was an old tumble-down lodge at the gates. It was inhabited by a very poor man, who, for the sake of getting a shelter over his head, now and then undertook to clean up and do odd jobs in the Rosendale gardens.

Mrs. Bertram thought it well to have some one in the lodge, and she was pleased with the economical arrangement she had made with David Tester.

One of his duties was to lock the old gates at night. There was a small and a large gate leading into the avenue, and it was one of Mrs.

Bertram's special whims that both should be locked at night. Old Tester thought his mistress foolishly particular on this point, and wondered at so close a lady going to the expense of new locks, which were sent down from London, and were particularly good and expensive.

The small gate was furnished with a latch-lock as well. This arrangement was made for Tester's convenience, so that if Mrs. Bertram and her daughters chose to be absent from home a little later than usual, he could still close the gate and go to bed.

When the girls and their brother left home that evening Catherine had not forgotten the latch-key.

"We may be late," she said, "so I will put it in my pocket."

They were late, and as they approached the old gates Catherine gave the key to Mabel, who hastened to fit it into the lock of the side gate.