Selma at the Abbey

by Elsie J. Oxenham

  “After you’ve had your turn,” Nesta said firmly. “You’ve been here centuries longer than Jen; three years, at least. I’ll bet anything you like Jen will be Queen after you; but you’ll have your reign first. Selma would make a jolly maid for you.”

  “She’d make me look littler and rounder than ever. I wish I could look like that,” Beatrice said mournfully. “I’m such a dump! And I’m not chosen yet, so do stop choosing my maid!”

  “You will be chosen,” Nesta said again. “Oh, by the way, Jen’s teasing me to have a party for the Club on the last Saturday in November. It’s time we had one, and she wants Selma to have a party, now that she can dance a little.”

  “She’s always on her toes,” Beatrice said severely.

  “Jen says that’s what they do in Scotland. But Selma’s better than she was; she tries awfully hard to come down off her toes. Her feet are terribly pretty when she’s dancing! We’d better have the party. I asked Jen why it had to be that special day and she said we could pretend it was a St. Andrew’s Day dance.”

  “What’s that got to do with it? Why St. Andrew?”

  “He’s the saint for Scotland, like St. George for England, and Selma comes from Scotland. And Jen says they’ve a friend coming for that week-end and he’d like to see a party in a barn.”

  “Is it that man who played tunes to us last summer when we danced at the Hall? Reels, they were called.”

  “I don’t know; we’ll ask Jen. We’ll go to Darley’s Barn; it’s much jollier than a school party.”

  “Oh, rather! Darley’s will have us. We all like going there.”

  “I’ll arrange it, then,” said the Queen.

  “Quite a jolly programme for Angus!” Jen said, when she heard about the party. “On Saturday morning Joy’s going to take us all to Oxford in the car. The party at Darley’s Barn at night, and he’ll see Selma dance in her new frock. Sunday, quiet, of course. If he can stay over Monday, Selma must take a day off from school and give him a good tramp on the hills, and in the woods. The colours are just wonderful now.”

  “I know I will go wrong in the dances,” Selma said anxiously.

  “Oh no, you won’t! I’ll take care of you. And if you do, what does it matter? Angus won’t know, and none of us will care. But don’t look flustered and show everybody you were wrong. Keep calm and pretend that’s the way you like to do the dance.”

  “Oh, Jen!” Joan laughed. “Is that what you do?”

  “Always! If I get left out of a ring, I look quite happy, as if I’d never meant to go into it and would much rather stand out all alone, on my own.”

  “No wonder people say you’re a good dancer!” Joy mocked. “Outsiders, I mean. Insiders might call it cheating.”

  “It’s much the best way,” Jen said haughtily.

  CHAPTER 23

  THE COMING OF ANGUS

  “No, Jen. You and I are going to stay at home this time,” Joan decreed, as Selma ran upstairs to fetch her coat and Jen would have followed her.

  “Oh, Joan, why? I like going to meet people!” Jen protested. “You let me go to meet Selma, and Rykie! Why can’t I go to meet Angus?”

  “Because that’s Selma’s job. Don’t you understand? They won’t want you there.”

  Jen gave her a quick look. “Oh! I see. But I wouldn’t be in the way! I’d sit with Joy and let them have the back seat all to themselves.”

  “Better not. Let Selma be the only one to go.”

  Jen gave in reluctantly. “I suppose I’ll have to be tactful! Will they want to sit in corners together all the time?”

  “I’m sure they won’t! But we must let them be alone now and then.”

  “You’re sure we’ll all go to Oxford to-morrow?”

  “Oh yes! I’m coming too.”

  Jen grinned. “So that they can pair off and Selma can show him the places she likes best, while I stay with you and Joy! Oh, well, if that’s what she wants!”

  “Not coming?” Selma stared at Jen. “Oh, but why?”

  “I’m going to get on with Monday’s prep., while I have the chance,” Jen retorted. “I shan’t want to work when we’ve a visitor. Joy will take care of you.”

  Much astonished by this sudden devotion to duty, Selma took the front seat by Joy and they drove off. It was only later that the truth dawned on her, and she coloured and laughed.

  “What’s up?” Joy demanded.

  “Jen. She’s funny sometimes.”

  “You must look after Angus on the way back,” Joy said. “I shall put you both in behind, so that I can concentrate on the road. Night driving’s tricky.”

  Selma grinned, for she knew Joy for an excellent and unafraid driver. “You’re all quite sure I want to be left alone with Angus.”

  “I’m absolutely certain I don’t want to tip Angus into a ditch. Or you either, so don’t chatter.”

  Selma subsided, her mind reaching out eagerly to the meeting before her.

  “You go and fetch him.” Joy, having been prompted by Joan, was also tactful, and she sat resolutely still when they reached the station. “I’m going to take care of the car. Ask which platform it is for the London train. You’ll need a platform ticket; have you a penny ready? Off you go, then!”

  Thrilled and happy, Selma carried out the instructions correctly and was by Angus’s side when he jumped from the train. “Oh, Angus! It’s good to see you again!”

  “Selma! My lassie, how well you look!” His eyes filled with delight at sight of her. “You’ve grown,” he said.

  “Give me your bag. You carry the fiddle; I’m glad you’ve brought it. Come on! Joy’s waiting in the car.”

  “Fling your stuff in here by me. The fiddle? Oh, good! We’ll have musical evenings. You two take the back seat,” Joy commanded.

  “Selma told me of your music at night,” Angus began.

  “Yes, I’m glad to see the fiddle. In you get! And don’t talk to me. I have to take you safely home.”

  “Did you have a nice journey?” Selma asked politely, as she settled down in the back of the car.

  “Oh, aye! Not too bad. The train wasn’t crowded.”

  “Prim and proper!” Joy said to herself, driving warily through the traffic.

  But presently she knew that silence had fallen between her passengers. Angus was devouring Selma with eager eyes and finding her changed; glowing with dark, happy beauty and with a new poise and assurance.

  Then Joy knew they were talking earnestly, but quietly. She smiled, relieved that the first moments of tension were over, and gave her attention to the road.

  “You’re gey bonny, Selma lass,” Angus murmured.

  “That’s my new coat, that you gave me. Joan said the big collar suited me. I feel I’m wearing all your clothes.”

  “I could never buy any clothes for myself that I’d like as well as I like that green coat, when it’s on you.”

  Selma laughed under her breath. “Where did you learn to make pretty speeches?”

  “It was wanting you so much that taught me. And then to see you again—I could eat you, my girl.”

  “You’ll please no’ to do that! But I forgot; it’s with seeing you. Please don’t eat me, Angus!”

  “How do you get on with the talking?” he asked anxiously. “I’m thinking you speak prettily, lassie.”

  Selma made a grimace. “Sometimes I remember. But they don’t mind at home; I have to be careful at school. Angus, aren’t they kind? It was their idea that you should come.”

  “Aye, it’s very kind, and understanding forbye,” said Angus.

  “Tell me about home! Did you go to see Mollie, as I asked you to do?”

  “I did that, and she sent her love.”

  “And are the hills still there? And the steamers? We’ve nothing like that here, but there are other things.”

  “I’ll take you on a boat again some day. We’ll sail past your Dunselma and go up the lochs.”

  “Here we are!” Joy called briskly, some ti
me later. “You two are talking so hard—about old times, I suppose—that you never saw the village.”

  Jen was tugging at the door of the car. “Come on in! Isn’t it fun to have you staying here, Angus? Did Selma take care of you nicely? I thought you’d rather have her to yourself, so I stayed at home and did French.”

  “Oh, Jen!” Selma cried, laughing. “You said it was because of your prep!”

  “It wasn’t, really,” Jen said, unabashed. “Joan said you wouldn’t want me. Did you have a nice ride?”

  Angus looked at Selma. “The nicest drive I ever had. Thank you, Miss Jen!”

  “Oh, you mustn’t do that!” Jen said, shocked. “I’m not ‘Miss’ anybody. I’m younger than Selma!”

  “Bring them in, Jen. Don’t stand chattering out there,” Joan cried from the doorway.

  “Well, Joan, he called me ‘Miss Jen.’ I don’t like it!”

  Joan laughed across at Angus. “I think you must give up being polite so far as Jen is concerned. She really isn’t important enough for any sort of title. Remember she is only a schoolgirl and call her Jen, or Jenny-Wren.”

  “I can be important when I like.” Jen drew herself up haughtily. “But I don’t often like. And never at home. Can’t Angus have some supper? I’m sure he’s starving.”

  All through that evening, with its supper, talk, and music, Joan knew that Angus followed Selma’s every movement with wondering, gratified eyes. He was, indeed, astounded by the results of his great idea. She was so completely at home in this big house, talking easily with these wonderful people, moving gracefully and with assurance among them; it was exactly what he had hoped for, but he would never have believed it could happen so soon. Perhaps girls were like that; able to adapt themselves quickly and to pick up things from other folk. Beside her, he felt awkward and shy, but that did not really matter. Selma had learned the ways of cultured people, and he was proud of her. And she was so pretty! She was wearing the pale green frock of softly draped material, a green ribbon in her dark hair. Angus watched her wistfully and wondered if he could ever be good enough for her.

  “I’ll make good!” he vowed, as he opened the case and took out his violin, at Joy’s urgent request. “I’ll play as no man ever played before. I’ll make her proud of me!”

  “Gracious! You have improved!” Joy exclaimed, her hands dropping from the piano. “McAlistair has helped you a lot! Don’t you feel it yourself?”

  “Aye, I do that . . . I mean, I really think so, Miss Joy.” Angus coloured in confusion, as he caught Selma’s laughing eyes upon him.

  “I’m sure Selma’s very proud of you,” Joan put in.

  “I am so!”

  And then Jen giggled and it was time for Selma to grow red.

  “Never mind, you two. Play something more to us, Angus!” Joy commanded.

  CHAPTER 24

  A PARTY FOR SELMA

  All through the trip to Oxford and the evening in Darley’s Barn, Angus continued to watch Selma with that proud incredulous look.

  In Oxford Joan saw to it that the party separated, and Selma took him to the places which had fascinated her in her lonely exploring, while the others prowled round the shops. They only met again when it was time to go home, and Angus, marvelling afresh at his “lassie,” told where they had been.

  “Selma knows all about those fine places,” he said proudly.

  “Selma’s an explorer. She did the thing properly, with maps and guide-books,” Joy said. “Come and sit in front with me and leave all those girls to chatter in behind! I’ll show you more of the river; we’ll go home by Wallingford. And on Monday, if you like, I’ll run you down to Marlow and Maidenhead; Selma hasn’t been there yet.”

  “I know I’ll go wrong in the dances.” Selma was nervous as they crowded into the car and set out for the barn at night.

  “It doesn’t matter, if you do,” Joan said cheerfully. “Everybody knows you’re new.”

  “I’ll take care of you,” Jen promised. “You can talk to Angus when we have the difficult ones.”

  It seemed to Angus that his “lassie” knew a great deal, and if she pointed her toes he did not notice it. His eyes had taken on that proud surprised look again, when he saw her in the pale yellow frock, and he watched with delight as she skipped her way through “Flowers of Edinburgh,” for which Jen had begged, so that he could see the English dance to the Scottish tune. Jen was taking care of Selma; he could see that; she put her firmly into place after each swing and change, with obvious orders, “Now do just what I do. I’m your man, so I have to do it first.”

  Mrs. Shirley had come to watch the dancing, tucked into the car between Joan and Selma, while Jen had a small seat facing them and Angus sat with Joy.

  He turned to Mrs. Shirley, as they sat together looking on.

  “She—little Miss Jen—is helping Selma all the time. She tells her what to do.”

  “Jen is a beautiful dancer, and an unselfish one. She loves to help beginners.”

  “Aye, but does it no’ spoil the dance for herself? Selma would no’ want that.”

  “Jen will have her turn later on. Here they come, to ask how you liked it.”

  Jen came racing to them. “You played that tune to us last summer. Do you like our dance for it? Isn’t Selma getting on? She’s going to be jolly good; she’s so light. She knows some of our other tunes; she says ‘Galopede’ ought to be called ‘Petronella’—it’s almost the same. Oh, ‘Newcastle’! She can’t do that. I must find a partner!” and she was gone.

  “Great excitement!” Mrs. Shirley smiled. “Come and sit with us, Selma dear. You look hot.”

  Selma dropped into a chair. “I want to watch. Isn’t it fun? It’s the first time I’ve seen one of their parties, Angus. Aren’t the colours pretty?”

  “Your frock’s as bonny as any of them.” He looked what he felt, as he gazed at her glowing face.

  “I made it myself. But Joan helped,” Selma added.

  As the sets formed for “Newcastle,” Queen Nesta nudged Maid Beetle. “Look at that man’s face! Do you think he wants to marry Selma?”

  “He oughtn’t to look at her like that, if he doesn’t,” Beatrice said severely.

  “Goodness! But she’s only a kid at school!”

  “She’s pretending to be. I shouldn’t wonder if she’s quite grown-up at home.”

  Presently, by special request of the Club, Angus produced the fiddle Joy had ordered him to bring, and played reels and Scottish songs, and the barn rang with applause, and then with the sound of voices, as the girls broke into “Annie Laurie” and “Loch Lomond.” Angus laughed and played several beautiful tunes which they did not know, and then more music for reels and strathspeys. Some of the girls would have liked to try the Scottish dances, but the President had decided against it, so they had to be content to be English, as usual.

  “Last dance! Have ‘Haste to the Wedding’ with me, Selma!” and Jen ran up, having come safely through “Mage on a Cree.” “You’re more likely to have a wedding than any of the rest of us.”

  “You’ll need to have one, before you can have those ten children,” Selma retorted, going to take her place in the line.

  She sighed with pure happiness as they drove home. “Thank you all so very much! It was a lovely party. I hope I’ll go to lots more. Please, did I point my toes too badly?”

  Jen’s dancing eyes gave her answer. But Joy said promptly, “We couldn’t see your feet, in that crowd. So don’t worry!”

  “How kind of you!” Selma cried.

  During the supper of sandwiches and cocoa which awaited them, Angus managed to draw Selma away to a small table in a corner.

  “Talking over the party. We’ll leave them alone,” Joan said.

  There was something else on Angus’s mind, however.

  “Selma, lass, to-morrow’s the Sabbath,” he began.

  She gave him a quick look. “I was going to speak about that, but I’ve no’ had the chance. I’m thinking
we’ll need to go to the church with them. They all go, always. Will you come?”

  “We could no’ go for a walk in those woods, I suppose? They’re all gold and red and brown. I’d like to see them.”

  “We could, in the afternoon. But we’d better go to the kirk in the morning. I’ll tell you what to do; the service is odd, but I’m used to it now and I rather like it. And the very old church, and the singing—you’ll like it too.”

  “I’d rather have been just with you. But I will come. I—I’ve gone to the English church—the ‘Piscopal, you know—once or twice, since I had your letter saying what it was like. I wanted to be doing the same as you,” he confessed.

  “Oh, Angus, how nice of you!” Selma exclaimed.

  “I wanted to have things the same for both of us. I liked it quite a lot. I didn’t want to go in the country without you.”

  “Not with anybody else?” Selma’s look was partly anxious but chiefly mischievous.

  “Not with anybody else in the world,” he told her firmly. “I’ll come with you to-morrow. I know the sort of things they do. But if I forget you can tell me.”

  “And we’ll have a tramp in the woods in the afternoon,” Selma promised. “I’m glad you’ll come. I’ll love to have you there.”

  CHAPTER 25

  ANGUS PAYS HIS DEBT

  Joy sat up in bed, listening. Then she crept to the window, and looked, and listened again.

  As mistress of the house, she used the big bedroom over the great drawing-room. From the windows below she could see a gleam of light. Someone was in the drawing-room, using a torch.

  Joy silently pulled on slippers, pullover and big coat, for the night was chilly. Wild thoughts were whirling in her mind. Jehane’s jewels were there, in the cabinet. Angus——? Could he——? Impossible! But she could not quite forget last July.

  But Angus had not been in the drawing-room. He probably thought the jewels were still in the Abbey. They had been too busy, out-of-doors, or round the piano, or in the dining-room, to have time for the seldom-used drawing-room. And Joan and she had decided before he came that there should be no reference to the jewels, or to the Abbey, as that might be too painful for him. So he had not been taken to see them in their new resting-place. He could not know they were in the house, unless—Selma?