Part 33 (1/2)
”All I can say is,” remarked Mrs. Gresley, as she and Hester led the Vicarage donkey and cart up the drive, heavily laden with the work of many months, ”that the Pratts have behaved exceedingly badly. Here they are, the richest people by far in the parish, and they would not even take a stall, they would not even furnish half of one, and they said they would be away, and they are at the Towers, after all. No one likes the Pratts more than I do, or sees their good points as I do, but I can't shut my eyes to the fact that they are the meanest of the mean.”
The Pratts had only contributed two ”bed-spreads,” and a ”sheet-sham,”
and a set of antimaca.s.sars. If the reader wishes to know what ”bed-spreads” and ”sheet-shams” are, let him ask his intended, and let him see to it that he marries a woman who cannot tell him.
Mrs. Pratt had bought the antimaca.s.sars for the Towers, and secretly adored them until Ada p.r.o.nounced them to be vulgar. The number of things which Ada discovered to be vulgar increased every day, and included the greater part of her mother's wardrobe, much to the distress of that poor lady. Mrs. Pratt had reached the size when it is prudent to concentrate a love of bright colors in one's parasol. On this particular afternoon she shed tears over the fact that Ada refused to accompany her if her mother wore a unique garment of orange satin, covered with what appeared to be a plague of black worms.
Of course, the sale of work was combined with a garden-party, and a little after three o'clock carriage after carriage began to arrive, and Sybell, with a mournful, handsome, irreproachably dressed husband, took up her position on the south front to receive her guests.
The whole neighborhood had been invited, and it can generally be gauged with tolerable accuracy by a hostess of some experience who will respond to the call and who will stay away. Sybell and her husband were among those who were not to be found at these festivities, neither were the Newhavens, save at their own, nor the Pontisburys, nor the Bishop of Southminster. Cards had, of course, been sent to each, but no one expected them to appear.
Presently, among the stream of arrivals, Sybell noticed the slender figure of Lady Newhaven, and--astonis.h.i.+ng vision--Lord Newhaven beside her.
”Wonders will never cease,” said Doll, shaken for a moment out of the apathy of endurance.
Sybell raised her eyebrows, and advanced with the prettiest air of _empress.e.m.e.nt_ to meet her unexpected guests. No, clearly it was impossible that the two women should like each other. They were the same age, about the same height and coloring; their social position was too similar; their historic houses too near each other. Lady Newhaven was by far the best looking, but that was not a difference which attracted Sybell towards her. On this occasion Sybell's face a.s.sumed its most squirrel-like expression, for, as ill-luck would have it, they were dressed alike.
Lady Newhaven looked very ethereal, as she came slowly across the gra.s.s in her diaphanous gown of rich white, covered with a flowing veil of thinnest transparent black. Her blue eyes looked restlessly bright; her lips wore a mechanical smile. Rachel, watching her, experienced a sudden pang at her undeniable loveliness. It wounded her suddenly, as it never had done before. ”I am a common-looking, square-built woman compared to her,” she said to herself. ”No wonder he--”
She instinctively drew back as Lady Newhaven turned quickly towards her.
”You dear person,” said Lady Newhaven, her eyes moving restlessly over the crowd, ”are you still here? Let us go and buy something together.
How nice you look,” without looking at her. She drew Rachel apart in the direction of the tents.
”Where is he?” she said, sharply. ”I know he is here. I heard all about the accident, though Edward never told me. I don't see him.”
”He is not in the gardens. He is not coming out. He is still rather knocked up.”
”I thought I should have died when I heard it. Ah, Rachel, never love any one. You don't know what it's like. But I must see him. I have come here on purpose.”
”So I supposed.”
”Edward would come, too. He appeared at the last moment when the carriage came round, though I have never known him to go to a garden-party in his life. But where is he, Rachel?”
”Somewhere in the house, I suppose.”
”I shan't know where to find him. I can't be wandering about that woman's house by myself. We must slip away together, Rachel, and you must take me to him. I must see him alone for five minutes.”
Rachel shook her head.
Captain Pratt, tall, pale, cautious, immaculate, his cane held along his spinal column, appeared suddenly close at hand.
”Mrs. Loftus is fortunate in her day,” he remarked, addressing himself to Lady Newhaven, and observing her fixedly with cold admiration. ”I seldom come to this sort of thing, but neighbors in the country must support each other. I see you are on your way to the tents. Pray allow me to carry your purchases for you.”
”Oh! don't let me trouble you,” said Lady Newhaven, shrinking imperceptibly. But it was no trouble to Captain Pratt, and they walked on together.
Lord Newhaven, who could not have been far off, joined Rachel.