Part 17 (2/2)
”I brought back the paper you lent me,” Salome said.
”It is too late for the north post to-day; but never mind. Good-bye,”
and Mrs. Atherton's alert steps were soon out of hearing as she walked quickly up the garden to the house.
”Reginald, let us go round by the upper road and down at the back of Elm Cottage; it is so fine and bright, and I feel in a better temper.”
”Make haste then,” said Reginald; ”for Digby said something about coming to tea. He had to go home first.”
The brother and sister walked fast; and Reginald told Salome a long and rather involved history of a football match, and said he hoped soon to work up into the first fifteen. The road at the back of Elm Cottage took a sudden dip down towards an excavation from which stone for building had been taken some years before; but the particular vein had been exhausted, and the quarry was deserted, and made a circular outlet from the road of some thirty feet, overhung with brambles and ivy. As Reginald and Salome pa.s.sed this quarry they heard voices. Something familiar in the tone of one speaker made Salome slacken her pace.
”Reginald, I am sure that was Raymond speaking. Look back. Who is it?”
Reginald turned, and distinctly saw two figures at the entrance of the quarry--two men or boys.
”I don't think it is Raymond.”
”I am certain it is,” Salome said. ”Whom can he be talking with?”
”I am sure I don't know,” said Reginald. ”I daresay it is not he.”
”I wish I knew how Raymond is really getting on,” said Salome. ”The worst of it is, one never feels quite sure that he is telling the truth.”
Reginald was silent.
”Does Percival's brother ever say anything to you about Raymond?”
”No; at least, not much.”
”Reg, if you _do_ know anything about Raymond, tell me. It's not like telling tales. I think I ought to know, for there seems no one to look after him, and, though I hate to say so, he does deceive mother.”
But Reginald was not to be drawn into the discussion further. Digby Wilton arrived at Elm Cottage at the same moment as Reginald and Salome, and he was always a cheerful and welcome visitor. The two families seemed to leave any intimacy that existed between them to the two pairs of brothers and sisters.
Louise's affection for Ada was short-lived, and a certain jealousy possessed her when she saw that Eva Monroe had taken an affection for her. Louise would have liked very much to be the elected companion of Eva to Cannes, and was lost in astonishment that a child of fifteen should be preferred before her, when the plan was announced.
”It is done as an act of charity, my dear Louise,” her mother said. ”Be thankful that your education and social position and advantages have been secured by me without the help of strangers. Poor Emily! it must be hard for her to receive so much from her friends. My proud spirit could never be brought to do so. And she is not an economical woman. I notice she has had the c.r.a.pe on her dress renewed already. And I hear from Aunt Betha that they deal with the tradesmen about Elm Fields and Whitelands Road. It would be far cheaper if they sent down into Harstone, and really Stevens might do this. It seems extravagant for poor people in lodgings to keep a maid.”
”I don't believe Stevens would leave Aunt Emily if she begged and prayed her to go,” said Kate with indiscreet heat. ”Really I do think it hard to talk of Aunt Emily like that, mamma.”
”My dear Kate,” said Mrs. Wilton, ”will you ask Aunt Betha to come and speak with me? I must send a note to the Quadrant this evening.”
These were Mrs. Wilton's favourite tactics. She seldom argued a point with her children, and she was right in the principle. If the differences of opinion were likely to be very decided, she would ignore them by turning quietly to another subject.
CHAPTER XI.
ADA'S DEPARTURE.
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