Part 34 (1/2)
After a moment's silence Elisabeth asked--
”Are you going to Lady Silverhampton's picnic on the river to-morrow?”
”Yes; I accepted because I thought I should be sure to meet you,”
replied Cecil, who would have accepted the invitation of a countess if it had been to meet his bitterest foe.
”Then your forethought will be rewarded, for I am going, too,” Elisabeth said.
And then other callers were shown in, and the conversation was brought to an abrupt conclusion; but it left behind it a pleasant taste in the minds of both the princ.i.p.als.
CHAPTER XIV
ON THE RIVER
For many a frivolous, festive year I followed the path that I felt I must; I failed to discover the road was drear, And rather than otherwise liked the dust.
It led through a land that I knew of old, Frequented by friendly, familiar folk, Who bowed before Mammon, and heaped up gold, And lived like their neighbours, and loved their joke.
It was a lovely summer's day when Lady Silverhampton collected her forces at Paddingdon, conveyed them by rail as far as Reading, and then transported them from the train to her steam-launch on the river. The party consisted of Lady Silverhampton herself, Lord and Lady Robert Thistletown, Lord Stonebridge, Sir Wilfred Madderley (President of the Royal Academy), Cecil Farquhar, and Elisabeth.
”I'm afraid you'll be frightfully crowded,” said the hostess, as they packed themselves into the dainty little launch; ”but it can't be helped. I tried to charter a P. and O. steamer for the day; but they were all engaged, like cabs on the night of a county ball, don't you know? And then I tried to leave somebody out so as to make the party smaller, but there wasn't one of you that could have been spared, except Silverhampton; so I left him at home, and decided to let the rest of you be squeezed yet happy.”
”How dear of you!” exclaimed Lord Robert; ”and I'll repay your kindness by writing a book called How to be Happy though Squeezed.”
”The word _though_ appears redundant in that connection,” Sir Wilfred Madderley remarked.
”Ah! that's because you aren't what is called 'a lady's man,'” Lord Robert sighed. ”I always was, especially before my unfortunate--oh! I beg your pardon, Violet, I forgot you were here; I mean, of course, my fortunate--marriage. I was always the sort of man that makes girls timidly clinging when they are sitting on a sofa beside you, and short-sighted when you are playing their accompaniments for them. I remember once a girl sat so awfully close to me on a sofa in mid-drawing-room, that I felt there wasn't really room for both of us; so--like the true hero that I am--I shouted 'Save the women and children,' and flung myself upon the tender mercies of the carpet, till I finally struggled to the fireplace.”
”How silly you are, Bobby!” exclaimed his wife.
”Yes, darling; I know. I've always known it; but the world didn't find it out till I married you. Till then I was in hopes that the secret would die with me; but after that it was fruitless to attempt to conceal the fact any longer.”
”We're all going to be silly to-day,” said the hostess; ”that's part of the treat.”
”It won't be much of a treat to some of us,” Lord Robert retorted. ”I remember when I was a little chap going to have tea at the Mers.h.i.+re's; and when I wanted to gather some of their most ripping orchids, Lady M.
said I might go into the garden and pick mignonette instead. 'Thank you,' I replied in my most dignified manner, 'I can pick mignonette at home; that's no change to me!' Now, that's the way with everything; it's no change to some people to pick mignonette.”
”Or to some to pick orchids,” added Lord Stonebridge.
”Or to some to pick oak.u.m.” And Lord Bobby sighed again.
”Even Elisabeth isn't going to be clever to-day,” continued Lady Silverhampton. ”She promised me she wouldn't; didn't you, Elisabeth?”
Every one looked admiringly at the subject of this remark. Elisabeth Farringdon was the fas.h.i.+on just then.
”She couldn't help being clever, however hard she tried,” said the President.
”Couldn't I, though? Just you wait and see.”