Part 32 (1/2)
”Respect!” cried Mary, with a sudden scorn, which was startling from a creature so soft.
”There, she could tear me in pieces!” said Marcella, laughing, though her lip was not steady. ”I wonder what you would be like, Mary, if you were engaged.”
Mary ran her needle in and out with lightning speed for a second or two, then she said almost under her breath--
”I shouldn't be engaged unless I were in love. And if I were in love, why, I would go anywhere--do anything--believe anything--if _he_ told me!”
”Believe anything?--Mary--you wouldn't!”
”I don't mean as to religion,” said Mary, hastily. ”But everything else--I would give it all up!--governing one's self, thinking for one's self. He should do it, and I would _bless_ him!”
She looked up crimson, drawing a very long breath, as though from some deep centre of painful, pa.s.sionate feeling. It was Marcella's turn to stare. Never had Mary so revealed herself before.
”Did you ever love any one like that, Mary?” she asked quickly.
Mary dropped her head again over her work and did not answer immediately.
”Do you see--” she said at last, with a change of tone, ”do you see that we have got our invitation?”
Marcella, about to give the rein to an eager curiosity Mary's manner had excited in her, felt herself pulled up sharply. When she chose, this little meek creature could put on the same unapproachableness as her brother. Marcella submitted.
”Yes, I see,” she said, taking up a card on the mantelpiece. ”It will be a great crush. I suppose you know. They have asked the whole county, it seems to me.”
The card bore an invitation in Miss Raeburn's name for the Rector and his sister to a dance at Maxwell Court--the date given was the twenty-fifth of January.
”What fun!” said Mary, her eye sparkling. ”You needn't suppose that I know enough of b.a.l.l.s to be particular. I have only been to one before in my life--ever. That was at Cheltenham. An aunt took me--I didn't dance.
There were hardly any men, but I enjoyed it.”
”Well, you shall dance this time,” said Marcella, ”for I will make Mr.
Raeburn introduce you.”
”Nonsense, you won't have any time to think about me. You will be the queen--everybody will want to speak to you. I shall sit in a corner and look at you--that will be enough for me.”
Marcella went up to her quickly and kissed her, then she said, still holding her--
”I know you think I ought to be very happy, Mary!”
”I should think I do!” said Mary, with astonished emphasis, when the voice paused--”I should think I do!”
”I _am_ happy--and I want to make him happy. But there are so many things, so many different aims and motives, that complicate life, that puzzle one. One doesn't know how much to give of one's self, to each--”
She stood with her hand on Mary's shoulder, looking away towards the window and the snowy garden, her brow frowning and distressed.
”Well, I don't understand,” said Mary, after a pause. ”As I said before, it seems to me so plain and easy--to be in love, and give one's self _all_--to that. But you are so much cleverer than I, Marcella, you know so much more. That makes the difference. I can't be like you. Perhaps I don't want to be!”--and she laughed. ”But I can admire you and love you, and think about you. There, now, tell me what you are going to wear?”
”White satin, and Mr. Raeburn wants me to wear some pearls he is going to give me, some old pearls of his mother's. I believe I shall find them at Mellor when I get back.”
There was little girlish pleasure in the tone. It was as though Marcella thought her friend would be more interested in her bit of news than she was herself, and was handing it on to her to please her.