The Honorable Miss: A Story of an Old-Fashioned Town, L. T. Meade [unputdownable books .txt] 📗

the coal trade, and Mrs. Bell marshalled her girls to as prominent a position as she could find.

It was her object to get on the terrace. The terrace was very broad, and ran not only the length of the front of the house, but a good way beyond at either side. At each end of the terrace was a marquee, decorated with colored flags, and containing within the most refined order of refreshments. On the terrace were many seats, and the whole place was a blaze of gay dresses, brilliant flowers, and happy, smiling faces.

It was here the �lite of the pleasure-seekers evidently meant to congregate, and as Mrs. Bell intended, on this occasion at least, to join herself to the select few, her object was to get on the terrace. She had not at first, however, the courage to mount those five sacred steps uninvited. The battery of eyes which would be immediately turned upon her would be greater than even her high spirit could support. Mr. Ingram had already spoken to her, she did not know Mrs. Bertram, although she felt that if Catherine or Mabel were near she might call to one of them, and make herself known as Matty's mother.

Catherine and Mabel were, however, several fields away engaged in a vigorous game of archery. Mrs. Bell raised her fat face, and surveyed the potentates of the terrace with anxiety.

"Keep close to me, Matty," she said to her eldest daughter. "Don't go putting yourself in the background. It isn't becoming, seeing what will be expected of you by-and-by. Now I wonder where the captain is! Mr. Ingram is sure to make a fuss about those Bertrams, and that young man will be expected to be at the beck and call of everybody all day long. But never you mind, Matty, my pet. He shall have his chances, or my name is not Tilly Bell."

"I wish ma wouldn't," whispered Sophy to Alice. "I don't believe Captain Bertram cares a bit for Matty. Now, what are we all going to do! Oh, dear, I quite shake in my shoes. Ma is awfully venturesome, and I know we will be snubbed."

"Come on, girls," said Mrs. Bell looking over her shoulder. "What are you loitering for? I see Mrs. Gorman Stanley at the back there, by one of the big refreshment booths. I'm going to make for her."

"Oh, ma, she doesn't care a bit for us."

"Never mind, she'll do as an excuse. Now let's all keep close together."

Amongst the select company on the terrace Mrs. Bertram of course found a foremost place. She was seated next to Lady Verney, whose daughter, the Lady Georgiana Higginbotham also stood near, languidly pulling a splendid gloire de Dijon rose to pieces. She was a tall, sallow-faced girl, with the true aristocratic expression of "I-won't-tell-you-anything-at-all" stamped on her face. She was to be married the following week, and had all the airs of a bride-elect.

This young lady raised her pince nez to watch the Bells as they ascended the steps.

"Who are those extraordinary people?" she whispered to her mother.

"I'm sure I don't know, my dear. How intolerably hot it is. Really our good Rector ought not to ask us to submit to the fierce rays of the sun during this intense weather. Georgiana, pray keep in the shade. Yes, Mrs. Bertram, you must find the absence of all society a drawback here."

"I sha'n't stay here long," responded Mrs. Bertram. "Catherine is still so young that she does not want society. Ah, there is Loftus. I should like to introduce him. Loftus, come here."

Captain Bertram, raising his hat to the Bells as he passed, approached his mother's side. He was introduced in due form to Lady Verney and the Lady Georgiana, and the two young people, retiring a little into the background, began to chat.

"Who are those extraordinary folk?" asked Lady Georgiana of her companion.

She waved her fan in the direction of Mrs. Bell's fat back.

"Do you know them, Captain Bertram?"

His eyes fairly danced with mirth as he swept them over the little group.

"I must confess something, Lady Georgiana. I do know those young ladies and their mother. I have supped with them."

"Oh, horrors! And yet, how entertaining. What were they like?"

"Like themselves."

"That is no answer. Do divert me with an account of them all. I am sure they are deliciously original. I should like to sketch that mother's broad back beyond anything."

It was at this moment that Beatrice and Catherine appeared together on the scene. Captain Bertram, who thought himself an adept in a certain mild, sarcastic description, was about to gratify Lady Georgiana with a graphic account of the Bells' supper-table, when his gaze met the kind, clear, happy expression of Beatrice Meadowsweet's eyes. He felt his heart stir within him. The Bells were her friends, and she was so good, bless her—the best girl he had ever met. No, he could not, he would not, turn them into fun, just to while away an idle five minutes.

Mrs. Bertram called Catherine over to introduce her to Lady Verney, and Bertram, in a moment, was by Beatrice's side.

"This is lucky," he said. "I thought you had left me for the day."

"Why should you think that?" she replied. "It would be impossible for people not constantly to come against each other in a small place like this."

"May I come with you now? You seem very busy."

"You can come and help me if you feel inclined. I always have a great deal to do at these feasts; I have been at them for years, and know all about them, and the Rector invariably expects me to keep the ball going."

"What ball?"

"The ball of pleasure. Each hand must grasp it—everyone must be happy. That is the Hector's aim and mine."

"I think it is your aim not only to-day, but every day."

"Yes, if I can manage it. I can't always."

"You could always make me very happy."

Beatrice turned her eyes and looked at him. Her look made him blush.

"You are mistaken when you say that," she responded, in a grave tone. "You are not the sort of person to be made happy by a simple country girl like me. The Northbury people only need small things, and many times it is within my power to supply their desires. But you are different. You would not be content with small things."

"Assuredly not from you."

Then he paused; and as she blushed this time, he hastened to add:

"You can help me not in a small, but in a big way, and if you grant me this help, you will save my mother, and—yes—and Catherine."

"I love Catherine," said Beatrice.

"I know it—you would like to save her."

"Certainly; but I did not know she was in peril."

"Don't whisper it, but she is. You can put things straight for her. May I talk to you? May I tell you what I mean?"

"You look very solemn, and this is a day of pleasure. Must you talk to me to-day?"

"I won't talk of anything to worry you today. But I may some time?"

"I suppose you may. At least it is difficult to reply in the negative to any one who wants my help."

"That is all I need you to say. You will understand after I have spoken. May I come to see you to-morrow?"

"Yes, you may come to-morrow. I shall be at home in the morning."

"Beatrice," said a voice, "Bee—Trixie—I do think it's unkind to cut an old friend."

Beatrice turned.

Mrs. Bell, puffed and hot, accompanied by Matty, who was also a little blown, and by the younger girls, looking very cross, had been chasing Captain Bertram and Miss Meadowsweet from one lawn to another. Mrs. Bell, after receiving a somewhat severe snubbing from Mrs. Gorman Stanley, had just retired into the marquee to refresh herself with strawberry ices, when Sophy, laying a hand on her mother's shoulder, informed her in a loud whisper that Captain Bertram and Bee Meadowsweet had gone down the steps of the terrace to the tennis lawn side by side.

"We'll make after them!" exclaimed the good lady. "Girls, don't finish your ices; come quick."

Mrs. Bell took her eldest daughter's hand, and rushed out of the tent. Sophy and Alice stayed behind to have one parting spoonful each of their delicious ices. Then the whole family went helter-skelter down the five sacred steps and on to the lawn. They saw the objects of their desire vanishing through a gap in the hedge into a distant field. They must pursue, they must go hotly to work. Mrs. Bell panted and puffed, and Matty stopped once to breathe hard.

"Courage, child," said the mother. "We'll soon be up with them. I'm not the woman to leave an innocent young man alone with that siren."

"Mother! You call Beatrice a siren?"

"Well, and what is she, Matty, when she takes your lawful sweetheart away before your very eyes? But here, we're in hailing distance, now, and I'll shout. Beatrice—Bee—Trixie!"

Beatrice turned. She came up at once to Mrs. Bell, took her hand, and asked all four why they had run so fast after her.

"For I was coming back at once," she said, in a na�ve tone. "Captain Bertram was kind enough to walk with me to the archery field. Then I was coming to arrange some tennis sets."

"My girls have had no tennis yet to-day, Beatrice," said Mrs. Bell, fixing her eyes solemnly on Miss Meadowsweet. "And they are all partial to it, more especially Matty. You're a devotee to tennis too, aren't you, Captain Bertram?"

"Well, ah, no, I don't think I am," said the captain.

"You'd maybe rather have a quiet walk, then. For my part I approve of young men who are prudent, and don't care to exercise themselves too violently. Violent exercise puts you into too great a heat, and then you're taken with a chill, and lots of mischief is done that way. Bee, lend me your arm, love. I'm more recovered now, but I did have to hurry after you, and that's a fact."

Determined women very often have their way, and Mrs. Bell had the satisfaction of walking in front with Beatrice, while Captain Bertram brought up the rear in Matty's company.

Sophy and Alice Bell no longer belonged to the group. They had found matters so intolerably dull that they started off on their own hook to find partners for tennis.

Mrs. Bell, as she walked in front with Beatrice heard Matty's little and inane giggles, and her heart swelled within her.

"Poor young man, he is devoted," she whispered to her companion. "Ah, dear me, Beatrice, I know you sympathize with me; when one has a dear child's fate trembling in the balance it's impossible not to be anxious."

Mrs. Bell's face was so solemn, and her words so portentous, that Beatrice was really taken in. It was stupid of her to misunderstand the good woman, but she did.

"Is anything the matter?" she asked, turning to look at Mrs. Bell. "Whose fate is trembling in the balance?"

If it had been possible for light blue eyes of a very common shade and shape to wither with a look, poor Beatrice would never have got over that terrible moment.

Stout Mrs. Bell dropped her companion's arm, moved two or three paces away, and accompanied her scorching glance with words of muffled thunder.

"Beatrice Meadowsweet, you are either green with jealousy, or you are a perfect goose."