Part 12 (1/2)

”Oh, Hadria, how _could_ you?” cried Mrs. Gordon, coming up in her elaborate toilette, which expressed almost as much of the character of its wearer as was indicated by her thin, chattering tones, and unreposeful manner. Her mode of dress was rich and florid--very obvious in its effects, very _naf_. She was built on a large scale, and might have been graceful, had not her mental const.i.tution refused to permit, or to inspire, that which physical construction seemed to intend. She distributed smiles on all hands, of no particular meaning. Though still a young woman, she looked worn and wearied. However, her _role_ was cheerfulness, and she smiled on industriously.

”I am so sorry,” said Hadria, ”the quarrel went clean out of my head.

They are so well matched. But your sister-in-law will never forgive me.”

”Oh, well, never mind, my dear; it is your way, I know. Only of course it is awkward.”

”What can be done? Shall I run in and separate them?”

”Oh, Hadria, you _are_ ridiculous!”

”I was not meant for society,” she said, in a depressed tone.

”Oh, you will soon get into the way of it,” cried Mrs. Gordon encouragingly.

”I am afraid I shall.”

Mrs. Gordon stared. ”Mr. Temperley, I can never make out what Miss Fullerton really means. Do see if you can.”

”How could I expect to succeed where you have failed?”

”Oh, you men are so much cleverer than we poor women,” cried the lady archly. Temperley was obviously of the same opinion. But he found some appropriate Chesterfieldian reply, while Hadria, to his annoyance, hurried off to her duties, full of good resolutions.

Having introduced a couple of sisters to their brother, she grew desperate. A set had just ended, and the sisters were asked to play.

This time, no mistake had been made in the selection of partners, so far as the question of sentiment was concerned, but they were fatally ill-a.s.sorted as to strength. However, Hadria said with a sigh, if their emotions were satisfied, it was really all they could expect.

Considering the number of family feuds, she did not see her way to arranging both points, to everyone's satisfaction.

Hadria was surrounded by a small group, among whom were Temperley, Harold Wilkins, and Mr. Hawkesley, the brother who had been introduced to his sisters.

”How very handsome Hadria is looking this afternoon,” said Mrs. Gordon, ”and how becoming that dark green gown is.”

Mrs. Fullerton smiled. ”Yes, she does look her best to-day. I think she has been improving, of late, in her looks.”

”That's just what we have all noticed. There is so much animation in her face; she is such a sweet girl.”

Miss Du Prel, who was not of the stuff that martyrs are made of, muttered something incoherent and deserted her neighbour. She came up to the group that had gathered round Hadria.

”Ah, Miss Du Prel,” cried the latter, ”I am so glad to see you at large again. I was afraid you were getting bored.”

”I was,” said Miss Du Prel frankly, ”so I came away.”

The young men laughed. ”If only everybody could go away when he was bored,” cried Hadria, ”how peaceful it would be, and what small tennis-parties one would have!”

”Always excepting tennis-parties at _this_ house,” said Hubert Temperley.

”I don't think any house would survive,” said Miss Du Prel. ”If people do not meet to exchange ideas, I can't see the object of their meeting at all.”

”What a revolutionary sentiment!” cried Temperley, laughing. ”Where would society be, on that principle?”

Hadria was called away, at that moment, and the group politely wavered between duty and inclination. Temperley and Miss Du Prel strolled off together, his vast height bent deferentially towards her. This air of deference proved somewhat superficial. Miss Du Prel found that his opinions were of an immovable order, with very defined edges. In some indescribable fas.h.i.+on, those opinions partook of the general elegance of his being. Not for worlds would he have harboured an exaggerated or immoderate idea. In politics he was conservative, but he did not abuse his opponents. He smiled at them; he saw no reason for supposing that they did not mean quite as well as he did, possibly better. What he _did_ see reason to doubt, was their judgment. His tolerance was urbane and superior. On all questions, however, whether he knew much about them or little, his judgment was final and absolute. He swept away whole systems of thought that had shaken the world, with a confident phrase.