Part 25 (1/2)
”He was very unkind,” said Margaret, with the faintest possible touch of resentment in her soft tones.
”Think no more of him for the present, dear. I dare say he will be here to-morrow, penitent and abashed. There goes the dressing-bell. Are you ready for Markham now? Put on your pink dress.”
She spoke pleasantly, and even playfully, but she gave Margaret a searching glance, as though she would have read the girl's heart if she could. But she was rea.s.sured. Margaret was smiling now; she was as calm as ever; she had brushed the tears from her eyes with a filmy handkerchief and looked perfectly serene. ”I am rather glad that you have found Sir Philip unreasonable, mamma,” she said, placidly; ”I always thought so, but you did not quite agree with me.”
”The child's fancy is untouched,” said Lady Caroline to herself as she went back to her room, ”and I am thankful for it. She is quite capable of a little romantic folly if n.o.body is near to put some common-sense into her sometimes. And Philip Ashley has no common-sense at all.”
She was glad to see that at dinner Margaret's serenity was still unruffled. When Mr. Adair grumbled at the absence of Sir Philip, whom he had expected to see that evening, the girl only looked down at her plate without a blush or a word of explanation. Lady Caroline drew her daughter's arm through her own as they left the dining-room with a feeling that she was worthy of the race to which she belonged.
But she was not in the least prepared for the first remark made by Margaret when they reached the drawing-room.
”Mamma, I must go to see Janetta to-morrow.”
”Indeed, dear? And why?”
”To find out whether the things that Sir Philip has been saying are true.”
”No, Margaret, dear, you really must not do that, darling. It would not be wise. What Sir Philip says does not matter to us. I cannot have you interfering with Miss Colwyn's concerns in that way.”
Margaret was very docile. She only said, after a moment's pause--
”May I not ask her to give me the singing lessons we arranged for me to take?”
Lady Caroline considered for a minute or two and then said--
”Yes, dear, you may ask her about the singing lessons. In doing that you will be benefiting her, and giving her a practical recommendation that ought to be very valuable to her.”
”Shall I drive over to-morrow?”
”No, write and ask her to come here to lunch. Then we can arrange about hours. I have not the least objection to your taking lessons from her ... especially as they are so cheap,” said Lady Caroline to herself, ”but I do not wish you to talk to her about Miss Polehampton's conduct.
There is no use in such discussions.”
”No, mamma,” said the dutiful Margaret.
”And Sir Philip will be pleased to hear that his favorite is being benefited,” said her mother, with a slightly sarcastic smile.
Margaret held up her stately head. ”It matters very little to me whether Sir Philip is pleased or not,” she said with a somewhat lofty accent, not often heard from the gentle lips of Margaret Adair.
CHAPTER XVII.
MARGARET'S FRIENDs.h.i.+P.
Margaret wrote her note to Janetta, and put her friend into something of a dilemma. She always felt it difficult to leave Mrs. Colwyn alone for many hours at a time. She had done her best to prevent her from obtaining stimulants, but it was no easy thing to make it impossible; and it was always dangerous to remove a restraining influence. At last she induced an old friend, a Mrs. Maitland, to spend the day with her stepmother, while she went to Helmsley Court; and having thus provided against emergencies, she was prepared to spend some pleasant hours with Margaret.
The day was cold and frosty, with a blue sky overhead, and the ground hard as iron underfoot. A carriage was sent for Janetta, and the girl was almost sorry that she had to be driven to her destination, for a brisk walk would have been more to her taste on this brilliant December day. But she was of course bound to make use of the carriage that came for her, and so she drove off in state, while Tiny and Jinks danced wildly on the doorstep and waved their hands to her in hilarious farewells. Mrs. Colwyn was secluding herself upstairs in high indignation at Janetta's presumption--first, in going to Helmsley Court at all, and, secondly, in having invited Mrs. Maitland to come to dinner--but Janetta did her best to forget the vexations and anxieties of the day, and to prepare herself as best she might for the serene atmosphere of Helmsley Court.
It was more than three months since her father's death, and she had not seen Margaret for what seemed to her like a century. In those three months she had had some new and sad experiences, and she almost wondered whether Margaret would not think her changed beyond knowledge by the troubles of the past. But in this fancy Janetta only proved herself young at heart; in later years she found, as we all find, that the outer man is little changed by the most terrible and heart-rending calamities.
It was almost a surprise to Janetta that Margaret did not remark on her altered appearance. But Margaret saw nothing very different in her friend. Her black mourning garments certainly made her look pale, but Margaret was not a sufficiently keen observer to note the additional depth of expression in Janetta's dark eyes, or the slightly pathetic look given to her features by the thinning of her cheeks and the droop of her finely curved mouth. Lady Caroline, however, noticed all these points, and was quite aware that these changes, slight though they were, gave force and refinement to the girl's face. Secretly, she was embittered against Janetta, and this new charm of hers only added to her dislike. But, outwardly, Lady Caroline was sweetness and sympathy personified.