Part 3 (2/2)
”Poor Lionel,” she murmured tenderly.
”_We_ buried him ourselves,” finished Miss Jane, ”under the cedar tree, as close to the churchyard gate as we could put him.”
”Much better have put him by the rhubarb,” said Jack, for which Eileen frowned at him over their heads, but instead of being in the least ashamed of himself, he looked up at the clouds and murmured feelingly: ”Lady Dudley has still five living--let us be thankful for small mercies.”
CHAPTER FOUR.
PADDY'S ADVENTURE.
Meanwhile in a very ruffled frame of mind, not only because Jack had kept her waiting half an hour, but also because she knew he had gone off quite contentedly up the mountain to look for Eileen, when he found he was in disgrace with her, Paddy trimmed her sail and sped across the Loch to Rostrevor. There was a fairly strong breeze, and the management of the boat kept her busy, but when she landed at Rostrevor alone, she had time to further anathematise Jack in her heart, and was in two minds about going up to the Hendersons at all. They had arranged to come over for tennis, but somehow Paddy did not think she wanted to play. She felt as if she wanted to work off her ill-humour by doing something daring, that would take her out of herself. So it happened that she stood on the quay irresolute and looked out to sea. Her quick eye was taking note of the wind and the tide, while her brain considered the advisability of taking a little trip toward Greenore. One half of her, the wise half, said, ”Don't go; the wind is too choppy.” The other half said coolly, ”All the more fun! At the worst it would only mean a ducking, as you can keep near enough to the land to swim ash.o.r.e.” Then, however, came the thought that Jack would certainly find out she had given up the tennis because of him, and feel ever so pleased with himself. That, of course, would never do. Whatever she had to put up with in the way of tennis was better than giving Jack such a triumph after his behaviour.
”I guess I'll do both,” she said, ”and I'll tell Jack it was the finest tennis I ever had in my life.”
Consequently she made fast the painter, reached her racquet, and made her way briskly to the Hendersons, meaning to play one set and then get back to the boat and have her sail.
Directly she appeared, she was hailed with a chorus of delight, and was instantly claimed for a partner by four or five different players, from whom she calmly made her choice like a young queen.
”I'm not going to play with you, Harry Armstrong,” she said, ”because you poach too much. Nor with you, d.i.c.k, because you're so slow--you always reach the ball a second too late, and it's bad for my nerves.
And Basil Whitehead won't be serious enough. I guess I'll play with you, Bob,” and she nodded to a shock-headed schoolboy of about fourteen, all arms and legs, and feet.
”How just jolly, thundering fine!” he exclaimed excitedly. ”You are a brick, Paddy; we'll knock them into a c.o.c.ked hat, won't we!”
”You know the other girls here are such awful sillies,” he remarked to her confidentially, as they walked toward a vacant court. ”A fellow can't have half a good time with a set like this. They're no better than a pack of schoolgirls,” and he turned up his snub nose contemptuously.
”Oh, well, of course! when a 'man-about-town' like you comes along,”
said Paddy, ”we all feel horribly countrified and shy and awkward. It's only natural, living away out here among the mountains.”
”I suppose so,” said Bob, hesitatingly, not quite sure whether she was laughing at him or not. ”Still,” brightening up, ”they might be more like you if they tried. You know I think you're just an awfully jolly girl,” he finished with great condescension.
Paddy made him a mock bow. ”I'm sure I feel highly honoured,” she said, ”but you mustn't tell the other girls, or they'd be frightfully jealous, and hate me like anything.”
”Well, you needn't mind that,” he replied stoutly. ”I'll look after you, and settle them pretty quick if they're cheeky.”
”That's all right, then. Let's set to work and win this set, because I have an important engagement directly after tea.”
Bob's face fell a little at this, but he quickly decided to make the best of the prevailing good, and not worry about what came next.
But Paddy did not get away quite so quickly as she had intended, as Kitty Irvine came and pulled her on one side to tell her an important piece of news in confidence.
”Have you seen him?” she exclaimed in an eager undertone. ”Isn't he perfectly scrumptious?”
”Seen who!” asked Paddy in bewilderment--”Who's perfectly scrumptious?”
”Why, Colonel Masterman's nephew, of course. You must have heard about him?”
”The Mastermans at Carlingford?” still unenlightened.
”Yes, Colonel Masterman has a nephew come to stay with them, from London. Fancy you not knowing!”
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