The Story Book Girls Page 14

  CHAPTER XIV

  The First Peal

  Mabel was twenty-one when her cousin Isobel Leighton came to make herhome at the White House. Isobel's mother had died ten years before, andsince the more recent death of her father, she had stayed for a year ortwo with her mother's relations. Now, suddenly, it seemed imperativethat Mr. Leighton should offer her a place in his own family, sincevarious changes elsewhere left her without a home. It was the mostnatural thing in the world that everybody should be pleased. The girlsgot a room ready for her, and took pains towards having it speciallyattractive. They even made plans amongst their friends for Isobel to besuitably entertained. "Though how we are to manage about danceinvitations and that sort of thing, I can't think," said Jean. "It'sbad enough with two girls, and sometimes no man at all. It will beawful with three."

  Elma herself was on the verge of being eligible for invitations. Mabellooked as though she did not mind much. Worrying thoughts of her ownwere perplexing her, thoughts which she could not share with any onejust then. The spring of her life had been one to delight in. Tendrilsof friendship had kept her safely planted where Jean, the revolutionist,tore everything by the roots. What was not good enough for Jeanimmediately was had up and cast away. What had not been good enough forJean had been their own silly enthusiasm for the Story Books. Jean inher own mind had disposed of the whole romance of this by beatingTheodora at golf. She now patronized Theodora, and ignored the others.Adelaide Maud she already considered entirely _passe_.

  The confidences of long ago were shaken into an unromantic present. TheDudgeons called ceremoniously twice a year, and invited the girls totheir dances. Mabel and Jean went, occasionally with Cuthbert "cut inmarble," and were inexpressibly bored in that large establishment.

  "It doesn't seem to make up for other things that one sits on velvetpile and has a different footman for each sauce," Mabel declared. "Wehave to face the fact that the Dudgeon establishment is appallinglyugly."

  So much for Mrs. Dudgeon's beaded work cushion effect.

  "It's only a woman who would make you leave an early Victoriandrawing-room for a Georgian hall, and get you on an ottoman of the thirdEmpire, and expect you to admire the mixture," growled Cuthbert. It wasthis sort of talk that was to be had out of him after he had been to theDudgeons' balls.

  Elma still prized her meetings with Adelaide Maud at Miss Grace's, butrecognized where her friendship ceased there. There seemed no gettingfurther into the affections of Adelaide Maud than through that warmcomradeship at Miss Grace's, or through her outspoken admiration for Mr.Leighton. And "Adelaide Maud had grown _passe_" Jean had declared.

  The world seemed very cold and unreal at this juncture.

  Mabel came into Elma's room one day looking very disturbed. There was afleeting questioning look of "Are you to be trusted?" in her eye.

  "You know I'm to be trusted, Mabs," said Elma, as though they had beendiscussing the iniquity of anything else. "You aren't vexed at Isobel'scoming are you?"

  "Oh, no," said Mabel quickly, "it isn't that, it's other things." Shethrew herself languidly on a couch.

  "Haven't you noticed that the Merediths haven't been here for afortnight?"

  Elma brushed diligently at fair, very wavy hair. It fell in layers ofsoft brown, and shone a little with gold where the light touched theripples, diligently created with over-night plaiting. She had grown,but in a slender manner, and was admittedly the _petite_ member of thefamily. There was a wealth of comprehension in the glance she let fallon Mabel.

  "Mabel, you don't mean to quarrel with them do you?"

  It seemed that the worst would happen if that happened.

  "I don't suppose I shall have the chance," said Mabel. She took a roseout of a vase of flowers, and began to pluck absently at the petals.

  "I think I should love to have the chance."

  "Oh, Mabel," said Elma distractedly, "how dreadful of you! And howfatal it might be! I shouldn't mind quarrelling a little. I thinkindeed it would be lovely, if one were quite sure, perfectly convinced,that one could make it up again. That's why I enjoy a play so much.Every one may be simply disgusting, but they are bound to make it up.If only one could be absolutely safe in real life! But you can't. Idon't believe Mr. Meredith would make it up."

  "I am sure he wouldn't." Mabel plucked at a pink leaf stormily."That's why I should like to quarrel with him."

  "Mabs, don't you care for him now?" Elma's eyes grew wide with trouble.It was not so much that Mabel had given any definite idea of havingcared for Mr. Meredith. It had been a situation accepted long ago asthe proper situation for Mabel, that there should be an "understanding"in connexion with Mr. Meredith. It established limitless seas ofuncertainty if anything happened to this "understanding" except the mostdesirable happening. Mabel leaned her head on her hand.

  "You see, dear," she exclaimed, "this is how it is. Long ago, papa somuch disliked our talking about getting married, any of us, even in funyou know, that it was much easier, when Mr. Meredith came, just to befriends--very great friends, you know, but still--friends. Papa alwayssaid he wouldn't let one of us marry till we were twenty-three. Thatwas definite enough. And he has been quite pleased that we haven'tbadgered him into getting engaged. Still, I always think that Robinought to have said to him, once at least, that sometime he wanted tomarry me. He didn't, I just went on playing his accompaniments, andbeing complimented by his sister. Now--now, what do you think? He hasgrown annoyed with papa for being so kind to Mr. Symington. Fancy hisdictating about papa!" Mabel's eyes grew round and innocent.

  "But that's because Mr. Symington is nice to you, perhaps," said Elma,as though this burst of comprehension was a great discovery on her part.

  "Exactly," said Mabel calmly. "But if you leave unprotected a cake fromwhich any one may take a slice, you can't blame people when they try tohelp themselves. Robin should be able to say to Mr. Symington, 'Handsoff--this is my property,' and then there would be no trouble. As itis, he wants me to do the ordering off, papa's friend too!"

  "What did you say to him, Mabel?" Elma asked the question in despair.

  "I said that when Mr. Symington had really got on--then would be thetime to order him off."

  Mabel fanned herself gently. Then her lip quivered.

  "I don't think papa ever meant to let me in for an ignominious positionof this sort--but here I am. If Robin won't champion me, who will?"

  "Oh, but surely," said Elma, "surely Robin Meredith would never----"

  "That's the trouble. He would," said Mabel. "And once you've found thatout about a man--you simply can't--you can't believe in him, that'sall."

  Elma sat in a wretched heap on her bed.

  "I think it's horrid of him to let you feel like that," she said."Other men wouldn't. Cuthbert wouldn't to any one he cared for."

  "Lots wouldn't," said Mabel. "That's why it's so ignominious, to havethought so much of this one all these years!"

  "Mr. Maclean wouldn't," said Elma. She had always wondered why Mabelhad ignored him in her matrimonial plans.

  "No, I don't believe he would," said Mabel. "But that's no good to me,is it?"

  "Mr. Symington wouldn't," said Elma.

  "Oh, Elma!"

  Mabel's eyes grew frightened. "That's what scares me. I sit and sitand say, Mr. Symington never would. It makes Robin seems so thin andinsignificant. He simply crumples up. And Mr. Symington grows largeand honourable, and such a man! And I'm supposed in some way to bededicated to Robin. It's like having your tombstone cut before you aredead. Oh, Elma, whatever shall I do!"

  Elma was quite pale. The lines of thought had long ago disappeared withthe puckerings of wonder on her face. Here indeed was thunder boomingwith a vengeance, and near, not far off like that golden picture ofyears ago. Mabs was in deep trouble.

  "You see what would happen if I told papa? He would order off Mr.Symington in a great fright, becau
se he has never thought somehow thatany of us were thinking of him except that he is an awfully clever man!I think also that papa would turn Robin out of the house."

  "I believe he would," said Elma in a whisper.

  "And then--how awful! All our friends, their friends! Everywhere wego, we should meet Sarah Meredith! What a life for us! I should liketo quarrel--just because I'm being so badly treated, but theconsequences would be perfectly awful," said Mabel. She took it asthough none of it could be helped.

  Elma was quite crumpled with the agitation of her feelings.

  "You must tell papa, Mabel," she said gently.

  "Oh, Elma, I can't--about Mr. Symington. Imagine Mr. Symington's everknowing and thinking--'What do I care for any of these chits of girls!'Robin has always got wild--if I smiled to my drawing master even. WhatI hate, is being dictated to now. And his sulking--instead of standingby me if there is any trouble. He isn't a man."

  A sharp ring at the bell, and rat-tat of the postman might be heard.Somebody called up that a letter had come for Mabel.

  Elma went for it and produced it with quaking heart. The writing seemedsomething very different to any of the letters which came to Mabel.

  It was from Mr. Symington.

  It explained in the gentlest possible way that he had learned from MissMeredith that his presence in Ridgetown caused some difficulty of whichhe had never even dreamed. He wrote as a great friend of her dearfather's, and a most loyal admirer of her family, to say the easiestmatter in the world was being effected, and that his visit to Ridgetownhad come to an end.

  The paper shook gently in Mabel's fingers, and fell quivering anduncertain to the floor. She looked up piteously and quite helplessly atElma, like a child seeking shelter, and then buried her head on thecouch. She cried in long, strangled sobs, while Elma stood staring ather.

  Elma pulled herself together at last.

  "Mabel dear, I'm going to read it."

  Mabel nodded into her bent arms.

  "Oh but," said Elma after shakingly perusing that document, "but hecan't--he can't do this. It's dreadful. It's like blaming you! Whatcan Miss Meredith have said? Oh! Mabel! Mabel, I shall cut that womandead wherever and however I meet her. Oh, Mabel--what a creature! Don'tyou cry. Papa will explain to Mr. Symington. He will believe papa.Papa will explain that you had nothing to do with it, that you don'tmind whether he goes or stays--that----"

  "But I do mind," said Mabel in cold, awe-struck tones. "That's theawful part. And it's nothing but the smallness of Robin that has taughtme, Mr. Symington is the only man worth knowing in the whole earth."

  She clasped her hands in a hopeless way.

  "And he has been sent away, banished, by the very man who should havemade it impossible for me to see any good quality in any one else excepthimself."

  "Who will play Mr. Meredith's accompaniments now?" Elma asked. "Whythey can't get on without you, dear." She still believed that just asplays were arranged, so should the affairs of Mabel come back to theiroriginal placidity.

  "I shall never play another note for Robin Meredith," said Mabel.

  Elma could not yet doubt but that Robin would come directly he knew howsatisfactorily he had disposed of his rival. One hoped that Mr.Symington had only explained so far to Mabel. That afternoon they wereto meet Isobel, so that every one was more or less occupied, and alwayson this same evening of the week, Friday, the Merediths were at an open"at home" which the friends of the Leightons attended at the WhiteHouse. The question was, would the Merediths come?

  Mabel did not seem to care whether they came or not. She sat, crushingthe letter and not looking at Elma.

  "Elma dear," she said at last, "I can't stand this. I shall tell papa.Mamma will only say 'I told you so' for our having been such friendswith the Merediths. But I can't bear that she shouldn't know I'm notashamed of anything," she caught her breath with a slight sob. "But I'mdone with Robin."

  It seemed magnificent to Elma that for her own honour she shouldjeopardize so much. Men like Mr. Meredith were so rare in Ridgetown.Yet when she asked her, couldn't she still admire Robin, Mabel said verytruthfully then "No."

  Elma would have liked to say that it didn't matter about Mr. Symington.

  "Robin will never enter this house again," Mabel said with quiveringlip.

  But he came--several times.