Part 32 (2/2)
But there came a message back from Boston by the eleven o'clock train on the morning of the Tuesday with a little ”t,” from Mr.
Marchbanks himself, to say that his brother and Mr. Geoffrey would come up with him to dinner, and to desire that carriages might be ready afterward for the drive over to Waite's grove.
Mrs. Marchbanks marveled, but gave her orders. Arthur came out early, and brought with him his friend Archie Mucklegrand, and these two were bound also for the merry-making.
Now Archie Mucklegrand was the identical youth of the lavender pantaloons and the waxed moustache, whom Desire, as ”Miss Ledwith,”
had received in state a year and a half ago.
So it was an imposing cavalcade, after all, from West Hill, that honored the very indiscriminate pleasure party, and came riding and driving in at about six o'clock. There were the barouche and the coupe; for the ladies and elder gentlemen, and the two young men accompanied them on horseback.
Archie Mucklegrand had been at West Hill often before. He and Arthur had just graduated at Harvard, and the Holabirds had had cards to their grand spread on Cla.s.s Day. Archie Mucklegrand had found out what a pretty girl--and a good deal more than merely pretty--Rosamond Holabird was; and although he might any day go over to his big, wild Highland estate, and take upon himself the glory of ”Sir Archibald” there among the hills and moors,--and though any one of a good many pretty girls in Spreadsplendid Park and Republic Avenue might be induced, perhaps, if he tried, to go with him,--all this did not hinder him from perceiving that up here in Z---- was just the most bewitching companions.h.i.+p he had ever fallen in with, or might ever be able to choose for himself for any going or abiding; that Rosamond Holabird was just the brightest, and sweetest, and most to his mind of any girl that he had ever seen, and most like ”the woman” that a man might dream of. I do not know that he quite said it all to himself in precisely that way; I am pretty sure that he did not, as yet; but whatever is off-hand and young-mannish and modern enough to express to one's self without ”spos.h.i.+ness” an admiration and a preference like that, he undoubtedly did say. At any rate after his Christmas at Z---- with Arthur, and some charade parties they had then at Westover, and after Cla.s.s Day, when everybody had been furious to get an introduction, and all the Spreadsplendid girls and their mothers had been wondering who that Miss Holabird was and where she came from, and Madam Mucklegrand herself--not having the slightest recollection of her as the Miss Holabird of that early-morning business call, whose name she had just glanced at and dropped into an Indian china sc.r.a.p-jar before she went down-stairs--had asked him the same questions, and p.r.o.nounced that she was ”an exceedingly graceful little person, certainly,”--after all this, Archie had made up his--mind, shall I say? at least his inclination, and his moustache--to pursue the acquaintance, and be as irresistible as he could.
But Rosamond had learned--things do so play into our lives in a benign order--just before that Christmas time and those charades, in one of which Archie Mucklegrand had sung to her, so expressively, the ”Birks of Aberfeldy,”--that Spreadsplendid Park was not, at least his corner of it,--a ”piece of her world;” and she did not believe that Aberfeldy would be, either, though Archie's voice was beautiful, and--
”Bonnie la.s.sie, will ye go?”
sounded very enticing--in a charade.
So she was quite calm when the Marchbanks party came upon the ground, and Archie Mucklegrand, with white trousers and a lavender tie, and the trim, waxed moustache, looking very handsome in spite of his dapperness, found her out in the first two minutes, and attached himself to her forthwith in a most undetachable and determined manner, which was his way of being irresistible.
They were in the midst of their tea and coffee when the West Hill party came. Miss Arabel was busy at the coffee-table between the two oaks, pouring out with all her might, and creaming the fragrant cups with a rich lavishness that seemed to speak of milky mothers without number or limit of supply; and Rosamond, as the most natural and hospitable thing to do, conducted the young gentleman as soon as she could to that lady, and commended him to her good offices.
These were not to be resisted; and as soon as he was occupied, Rosamond turned to attend to others coming up; and the groups s.h.i.+fting, she found herself presently a little way off, and meanwhile Mrs. Marchbanks and her son had reached the table and joined Archie.
”I say, Arthur! O, Mrs. Marchbanks! You never got such coffee as this, I do believe! The open air has done something to it, or else the cream comes from some supernal cows! Miss Holabird!”
Rosamond turned round.
”I don't see,--Mrs. Marchbanks ought to have some of this coffee, but where is your good woman gone?” For Miss Arabel had stepped round behind the oak-tree for a moment, to see about some replenis.h.i.+ng.
In her prim, plain dress, utterly innocent of style or _bias_, and her zealous ministry, good Miss Arabel might easily be taken for some comfortable, superior old servant; but partly from a sudden sense of fun,--Mrs. Marchbanks standing there in all her elegant dignity,--and partly from a jealous chivalry of friends.h.i.+p, Rosamond would not let it pa.s.s so.
”Good woman? Hus.h.!.+ she is one of our hostesses, the owner of the ground, and a dear friend of mine. Here she is. Miss Waite, let me introduce Mr. Archibald Mucklegrand. Mrs. Marchbanks will like some coffee, please.”
Which Mrs. Marchbanks took with a certain look of amazement, that showed itself subtilely in a slight straightening of the lips and an expansion of the nostrils. She did not _sniff_; she was a great deal too much a lady; she was Mrs. Marchbanks, but if she had been Mrs.
Higgin, and had felt just so, she would have sniffed.
Somebody came up close to Rosamond on the other side.
”That was good,” said Kenneth Kincaid. ”Thank you for that, Miss Rosamond.”
”Will you have some more?” asked Rosamond, cunningly, pretending to misunderstand, and reaching her hand to take his empty cup.
”One mustn't ask for all one would like,” said Kenneth, relinquis.h.i.+ng the cup, and looking straight in her eyes.
Rosamond's eyes fell; she had no rejoinder ready; it was very well that she had the cup to take care of, and could turn away, for she felt a very foolish color coming up in her face.
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