A Colony of Girls

by Kate Livingston Willard

  CHAPTER VI.

  A DINNER AT THE MANOR.

  It was the evening of the dinner given in honor of the naval officers,and even as the old Dutch clock in the corner of the manor hall struckthe hour of seven, Farr was shaking hands with Mrs. Dennis.

  "I am so sorry," she said to him with a sweet smile, "that I shall beobliged to absent myself from the dinner table to-night, but mystrength is not very great and I dare not overtax it. My niece Helen,"with a proud accent, which was not lost upon Farr, "has taken my placefor so long that I feel no hesitation in leaving everything in herhands."

  "Oh, Auntie," cried Helen, with shy deprecation, "Mr. Farr will beginto think me that most tiresome of all things, a paragon of householdvirtue."

  Farr made a gesture of dissent, and then as Clifford Archer presentedhimself, he turned and followed Helen with admiring eyes. Very fairand womanly she seemed to him, in her gown of pale lavender crepe,moving about among her guests, greeting one and all with gentlecourtesy.

  His gaze wandered on to where, in a further corner of thedrawing-room, Nathalie was keeping up a merry chatter with WendellChurchill. In spite of her eighteen years, she looked a very childto-night, in her white mulle gown, with a broad white sash around herwaist, and one red rose in her brown hair. A spoiled child, too, sheundeniably was; unused to restraint, somewhat willful andquick-tempered, but with a heart so true and generous that one couldalways trust this small maiden and know that the good wouldpredominate.

  Eleanor Hill, standing very erect, her slender figure clad in aseverely simple gown of India silk, her hair brushed straight from herfair face, her blue eyes alight with intelligence, her sensitive mouthrevealing every passing shade of feeling, held his attention for amoment, for there was something patrician in the girl's mien andbearing which greatly charmed him.

  Involuntarily Farr smiled as he caught sight of Nan's jolly facebeaming with an unending fund of good humor, and he was man enough ofthe world for one glance at dainty Mollie Andrews to suffice to tellhim that she was an adept in the truly feminine art of dressing, forher white gown, covered with lace and embroidery, was made in amysterious Parisian fashion, not easily imitated.

  What an arrant little flirt was dark-eyed Emily Varian. The smile thatNan had evoked deepened as Farr noted the rapt expression on Dudley'sface as he bent over her. Her yellow gown, while not as modish asEleanor's and Mollie's, nor as artistic as the Lawrence girls', yetshowed a fine sense of color, and lighted up her pretty, piquant face,which was surmounted by a smooth coil of hair the color of a raven'swing.

  They were an unusually lovely group of girls, and, beyond this,unusually pure-hearted and intelligent. Farr appreciated this the morekeenly, perhaps, in that he had seen much of the world in his thirtyyears of life. Sometimes the old ideals of his boyhood had sufferedsadly; but his faith in the gentler sex was too deep-rooted to beeasily dispelled, and now all that was noblest and most chivalrous inhis nature was awakened by the atmosphere of honesty and sweetnesssurrounding him.

  He was brought back to the starting-point of his observations byHelen's voice saying, apologetically:

  "I am so sorry my sister is so late," and even as she spoke a littlehand pushed the portieres hastily aside, and Jean stood in thedoorway.

  She glanced impulsively across at Farr, and caught a wicked gleam fromhis eyes as he advanced to meet her.

  "'Time, tide, and dinner at the manor wait for no man,'" he quotedmaliciously.

  "That is one advantage in being a woman," she promptly retorted.

  She was radiant to-night in a gown of silver and blue. From underlevel brows her eyes shone like stars, and some slight inward tremorof excitement flushed her sweet face with unusual color. Her softyellow hair was gathered up in a simple coil, little tendrils of itcurling upon her forehead and on her neck.

  "What a bonny little lass she is," thought Farr, surprised by thesudden feeling of tenderness which took possession of him.

  Then dinner was announced, and, with a half cynical smile at his ownsusceptibility, he pulled himself together, and offered her his arm.

  "Why, I am quite in the navy, am I not?" she asked archly, as she tookher place between Farr and Dudley.

  "You honor it," Farr returned.

  Jean's brows contracted with a slight frown. "That savors of flattery,Mr. Farr."

  "I especially dislike your accusation, Miss Lawrence."

  "Then I must be more careful not to run counter to your prejudiceshereafter."

  "If you would be so good," he said to her dryly; then their eyes met,and they both laughed light-heartedly.

  "I hope you enjoyed the sail the other day. I meant to ask you aboutit yesterday afternoon."

  "Thoroughly. Your songs were particularly delightful."

  Jean blushed, and answered in some confusion:

  "They were very foolish. I really hope you will forgive our absurdbehavior."

  "Charming folly needs no apology," Jean found the glance he gave her atrifle disconcerting.

  "But pray, Mr. Farr, do not----" she began, and hesitated.

  "Do not what?" he interrogated, with a faint show of eagerness.

  "Do not allow your soup to grow cold," she finished, with a merryglance at him from under her long lashes.

  "While you are in Hetherford," spoke Nathalie across the table toDudley, "you should make a point of going up to the cemetery. Thereare some epitaphs there a hundred years old, and they are so funny."

  "So Andrews was telling us. Speaking of epitaphs I was very muchamused by one I saw in a magazine the other day. Let me see. How wasit?

  "Here lies the body of Mary Ann, With her head on the bosom of Abraham; Pretty soft thing for Mary Ann, But very hard lines on Abraham."

  "Here is a good one," cried Dick, when he had partially recovered fromhis ebullition of mirth:

  "Here lies the body of Mary Bin, Who having had her little fling, Burst this outer shell of sin, And hatched herself a cherubim."

  Helen shook her head at Dick in gentle protest.

  "What will Captain and Mrs. Dodd think of us." she said.

  "Suppose I should recall one to you all," suggested the captain, witha merry twinkle in his eye.

  "Please do," they cried in chorus.

  "He heard the angels calling him, From that celestial shore, He flapped his wings and away he went, To make one angel more."

  "Splendid," exclaimed Nathalie, with enthusiasm. "Mr. Dudley and Dickare quite in the background."

  "Dick saw his in that charming novel 'Comin' thro' the Rye.'"

  "Guess I did, Nancy. By Jove, girls," he whispered mischievously, "youare all stunning to-night," and he drew himself up with an air ofpride and satisfaction.

  "You shine in a kind of reflected glory; don't you, Dick?" laughedNathalie.

  After dinner they gathered about the great wood fire burning cheerilyin the drawing-room. The evening had grown suddenly chill. The windhad veered to the southeast, and the strong sea breeze lowered thetemperature by many degrees; a not uncommon occurrence in our Americansummers.

  Helen seated herself at the open piano, and her music did much toenhance the charm of the hour. She felt a bit sad to-night andsomething of her feeling crept into her music, as she drifted into aplaintive melody, with an oft-recurring refrain almost like a spokenregret. As her eyes wandered about the fire-lit room, with its far-offcorners half in mystic shadow, there were awakened within her memoriesof happy childhood days when the love of her father and mother hadbeen the sunshine of their home. Interwoven with these thoughts camethe recollection of one who, in those days, had been near at hand andwho was now far away, in strange lands, separated from her by morethan the mere expanse of restless waters.

  She sighed a little and, bringing her music abruptly to an end, roseand crossed the room. After a few words of courteous explanation toMrs. Dodd, she ran away upstairs to assure herself that the childrenwere safely in bed.

  Just as she was p
assing through the doorway, she caught a glimpse ofJean, who, with earnest upturned face, was talking interestedly withFarr, and something she saw in her sister's blue eyes made her start.What was there in that upturned face, in those eyes, which made Helenfeel so strangely, as if something were going to happen?

  And Eleanor Hill chatting gayly with Cliff Archer found her thoughtstraveling in much the same direction.

  In all these summers they had been a very happy little colony ofgirls, and they had entered into a sort of compact in true girlfashion that no lover should be allowed in their midst, to break thespell. Helen had been engaged, but that relation had existed previousto the making of the bond, and she had been so little absorbed that noone had thought much about it. One other exception had to be made, forthere was no use in trying to hold Emily strictly to any suchagreement, for flirt she would whenever the opportunity offered.However, her digressions had been few and far between, for CliffArcher and Dick were almost the only men who came to Hetherford, andthey were so like brothers to her that a sentimental attitude towardeither of them would have seemed supremely ridiculous.

  So this summer had come around as many others had before, and alreadya new element had entered into their midst, and that naughty littleNathalie was at the root of the matter; for ever since one bright dayin May, when the _Sylph_ had come sailing along these pleasant watersand Wendell Churchill had called at the manor to pay his respects, theold order of things had been changed. Until that day the _Sylph_ hadbeen better known to Hetherford than her good-looking owner; forrarely had he cast anchor in the harbor without having aboard hisyacht a party of gay and fashionable people, who urgently claimed hiswhole attention. But now he no longer brought strangers to Hetherford,and when, as now and then occurred, he was obliged to absent himselffor a few days, the _Sylph_ lay at the disposal of the girls. And allthis that little minx Nathalie had brought about, laughing while shedisclaimed emphatically any disloyalty to the vows of their bond.

  The worst of it was the mischief was spreading, and Eleanor's eyesfalling just then upon Jean, she experienced a sense of keenannoyance, for warm-hearted Jean had been the most whole-souled, themost valiant of them all. It was a great pity that the _Vortex_ hadbeen stationed here, and doubly a pity that there was no immediateprospect of her departure. It would not do to be introducing all sortsof folly into their circle.

  Eleanor had quite worked herself up to a pitch of righteousindignation when, on surveying the ground that had brought her to thispoint, she became uncomfortably conscious of some slight changeswithin herself; for here before her, looking into her eyes and sayingall sorts of pretty things, which of course were nonsensical, was the"fatal beauty" whom she had always looked upon as a boy. Half-vexed,half-amused she rose to go, and when Cliff, after helping her withher coat, gently pressed her hand, she felt immensely like boxing hisears. It was idiotic and sentimental, his looking at her in that way,and there was no occasion whatever for his saying good-night like alover in a play.

  There was quite a little excitement and bustle of departure in thehall-way, as coats and cloaks were sought for, found, and donned. Jeanstood by the large open fireplace, where a log lay smoldering, its redashes still giving out a grateful heat, and at her side was Farr, hatin hand, a light summer overcoat on his arm. He spoke a few words toher as he took her hand in parting, and she looked up at him smilingand defiant. The girl's blue eyes were dark with unwonted excitement,her cheeks flushed with bright color, and Eleanor noted all this andfound her impressions of the evening deepened.

  When the last guest had gone, Helen dropped down on the foot of thestairs.

  "Oh, how tired I am," she exclaimed. "Do put out the lamps in thedrawing-room, Nat, like a good girl." Then she rose to her feet with alittle sigh of weariness. "I think I am sleepy too," she said.

  "I wish I were," spoke Jean from before the fire, her whole expressioneminently wide-awake.

  "Come to bed, Jeanie," laughed Helen, "and court sleep. Perhaps itwill come to you if you do."

  Jean paused a moment by the hall table to select one from out of themass of books and magazines collected there, and then followed Helenup the stairs.

  When she had reached her room she threw herself down in an easy-chairand opened her book.

  "You won't mind if I read for a while, will you, Nat? There is no useof thinking of going to sleep yet."

  Nathalie whistled very softly, at which Jean glanced swiftly up ather.

  "Eh, Jean? Love at first sight?"

  Jean blushed to the roots of her pretty hair, and there was an angrylight in her eyes.

  "I wouldn't be a goose if I were you, Nathalie," she said scornfully.