A Colony of Girls Part 10

"You honor it," Farr returned.

Jean's brows contracted with a slight frown. "That savors of flattery, Mr. Farr."

"I especially dislike your accusation, Miss Lawrence."

"Then I must be more careful not to run counter to your prejudices hereafter."

"If you would be so good," he said to her dryly; then their eyes met, and they both laughed light-heartedly.

"I hope you enjoyed the sail the other day. I meant to ask you about it yesterday afternoon."

"Thoroughly. Your songs were particularly delightful."

Jean blushed, and answered in some confusion:

"They were very foolish. I really hope you will forgive our absurd behavior."

"Charming folly needs no apology," Jean found the glance he gave her a trifle disconcerting.

"But pray, Mr. Farr, do not----" she began, and hesitated.

"Do not what?" he interrogated, with a faint show of eagerness.

"Do not allow your soup to grow cold," she finished, with a merry glance at him from under her long lashes.

"While you are in Hetherford," spoke Nathalie across the table to Dudley, "you should make a point of going up to the cemetery. There are some epitaphs there a hundred years old, and they are so funny."

"So Andrews was telling us. Speaking of epitaphs I was very much amused by one I saw in a magazine the other day. Let me see. How was it?

"Here lies the body of Mary Ann, With her head on the bosom of Abraham; Pretty soft thing for Mary Ann, But very hard lines on Abraham."

"Here is a good one," cried d.i.c.k, when he had partially recovered from his ebullition of mirth:

"Here lies the body of Mary Bin, Who having had her little fling, Burst this outer sh.e.l.l of sin, And hatched herself a cherubim."

Helen shook her head at d.i.c.k in gentle protest.

"What will Captain and Mrs. Dodd think of us." she said.

"Suppose I should recall one to you all," suggested the captain, with a merry twinkle in his eye.

"Please do," they cried in chorus.

"He heard the angels calling him, From that celestial sh.o.r.e, He flapped his wings and away he went, To make one angel more."

"Splendid," exclaimed Nathalie, with enthusiasm. "Mr. Dudley and d.i.c.k are quite in the background."

"d.i.c.k saw his in that charming novel 'Comin' thro' the Rye.'"

"Guess I did, Nancy. By Jove, girls," he whispered mischievously, "you are all stunning to-night," and he drew himself up with an air of pride and satisfaction.

"You s.h.i.+ne in a kind of reflected glory; don't you, d.i.c.k?" laughed Nathalie.

After dinner they gathered about the great wood fire burning cheerily in the drawing-room. The evening had grown suddenly chill. The wind had veered to the southeast, and the strong sea breeze lowered the temperature by many degrees; a not uncommon occurrence in our American summers.

Helen seated herself at the open piano, and her music did much to enhance the charm of the hour. She felt a bit sad to-night and something of her feeling crept into her music, as she drifted into a plaintive melody, with an oft-recurring refrain almost like a spoken regret. As her eyes wandered about the fire-lit room, with its far-off corners half in mystic shadow, there were awakened within her memories of happy childhood days when the love of her father and mother had been the suns.h.i.+ne of their home. Interwoven with these thoughts came the recollection of one who, in those days, had been near at hand and who was now far away, in strange lands, separated from her by more than the mere expanse of restless waters.

She sighed a little and, bringing her music abruptly to an end, rose and crossed the room. After a few words of courteous explanation to Mrs. Dodd, she ran away upstairs to a.s.sure herself that the children were safely in bed.

Just as she was pa.s.sing through the doorway, she caught a glimpse of Jean, who, with earnest upturned face, was talking interestedly with Farr, and something she saw in her sister's blue eyes made her start.

What was there in that upturned face, in those eyes, which made Helen feel so strangely, as if something were going to happen?

And Eleanor Hill chatting gayly with Cliff Archer found her thoughts traveling in much the same direction.

In all these summers they had been a very happy little colony of girls, and they had entered into a sort of compact in true girl fas.h.i.+on that no lover should be allowed in their midst, to break the spell. Helen had been engaged, but that relation had existed previous to the making of the bond, and she had been so little absorbed that no one had thought much about it. One other exception had to be made, for there was no use in trying to hold Emily strictly to any such agreement, for flirt she would whenever the opportunity offered.

However, her digressions had been few and far between, for Cliff Archer and d.i.c.k were almost the only men who came to Hetherford, and they were so like brothers to her that a sentimental att.i.tude toward either of them would have seemed supremely ridiculous.

So this summer had come around as many others had before, and already a new element had entered into their midst, and that naughty little Nathalie was at the root of the matter; for ever since one bright day in May, when the _Sylph_ had come sailing along these pleasant waters and Wendell Churchill had called at the manor to pay his respects, the old order of things had been changed. Until that day the _Sylph_ had been better known to Hetherford than her good-looking owner; for rarely had he cast anchor in the harbor without having aboard his yacht a party of gay and fas.h.i.+onable people, who urgently claimed his whole attention. But now he no longer brought strangers to Hetherford, and when, as now and then occurred, he was obliged to absent himself for a few days, the _Sylph_ lay at the disposal of the girls. And all this that little minx Nathalie had brought about, laughing while she disclaimed emphatically any disloyalty to the vows of their bond.

The worst of it was the mischief was spreading, and Eleanor's eyes falling just then upon Jean, she experienced a sense of keen annoyance, for warm-hearted Jean had been the most whole-souled, the most valiant of them all. It was a great pity that the _Vortex_ had been stationed here, and doubly a pity that there was no immediate prospect of her departure. It would not do to be introducing all sorts of folly into their circle.

Eleanor had quite worked herself up to a pitch of righteous indignation when, on surveying the ground that had brought her to this point, she became uncomfortably conscious of some slight changes within herself; for here before her, looking into her eyes and saying all sorts of pretty things, which of course were nonsensical, was the "fatal beauty" whom she had always looked upon as a boy. Half-vexed, half-amused she rose to go, and when Cliff, after helping her with her coat, gently pressed her hand, she felt immensely like boxing his ears. It was idiotic and sentimental, his looking at her in that way, and there was no occasion whatever for his saying good-night like a lover in a play.

There was quite a little excitement and bustle of departure in the hall-way, as coats and cloaks were sought for, found, and donned. Jean stood by the large open fireplace, where a log lay smoldering, its red ashes still giving out a grateful heat, and at her side was Farr, hat in hand, a light summer overcoat on his arm. He spoke a few words to her as he took her hand in parting, and she looked up at him smiling and defiant. The girl's blue eyes were dark with unwonted excitement, her cheeks flushed with bright color, and Eleanor noted all this and found her impressions of the evening deepened.

When the last guest had gone, Helen dropped down on the foot of the stairs.

"Oh, how tired I am," she exclaimed. "Do put out the lamps in the drawing-room, Nat, like a good girl." Then she rose to her feet with a little sigh of weariness. "I think I am sleepy too," she said.

"I wish I were," spoke Jean from before the fire, her whole expression eminently wide-awake.

"Come to bed, Jeanie," laughed Helen, "and court sleep. Perhaps it will come to you if you do."

Jean paused a moment by the hall table to select one from out of the ma.s.s of books and magazines collected there, and then followed Helen up the stairs.

When she had reached her room she threw herself down in an easy-chair and opened her book.

"You won't mind if I read for a while, will you, Nat? There is no use of thinking of going to sleep yet."

Nathalie whistled very softly, at which Jean glanced swiftly up at her.

"Eh, Jean? Love at first sight?"

Jean blushed to the roots of her pretty hair, and there was an angry light in her eyes.

"I wouldn't be a goose if I were you, Nathalie," she said scornfully.