Friends and Lovers

by Joan Smith

  “You forget the ground was wet,” I told him.

  “Menrod is a man of sound judgment. He’d not have allowed it if he felt it was dangerous. Those slow-witted lads like young Ralph will often surprise you by being good at sports.”

  As Mr. Everett was being more bovine than usual, we soon spoke of other things—a new railing being installed around the upper landing of Oakdene, something with larger, more ornate spindles than those presently in place, at a cost of seventy-eight pounds and nine shillings. Much later in the visit, he asked, “Have you got your tickets to Lady Menrod’s ball yet?”

  “No, we have not. Has she sent them out already?” I asked, thinking Everett must have heard the story in town.

  “I don’t know that she has. She dropped mine off at the house in person yesterday.”

  He related this amazing item with the nonchalance of a socialite. A call from Lady Menrod on Mr. Everett sent my head reeling. What could account for it? “I did not realize you knew her,” Mama said, showing all the incredulity I felt.

  “I didn’t, before the call. It was Lady Althea who brought her, to see the picture, you know, that resembles herself. I think it does, at least. They both roasted me for saying so, but the eyes and nose are very like, and the full, plump figure.”

  “You must have been surprised to see them at your door,” Mama said.

  “I was. I asked Lady Althea to come back sometime and see the other pictures, but didn’t half expect she would do it. They took a longish tour through all the rooms, up and down. I think they had been bored to flinders at home, with all the rain. In the end I had to invite them to take luncheon with me. It was no bother, for there is always good food in the house, and I was not going out anywhere.”

  “They were eager to see it, having the horses put to in that downpour,” Mama said. She was not happy at the visit. She discerned a scheme to rob me of my beau.

  “It surprised me,” he repeated, “but not so much as being asked back to call on them. I am to take tea there tomorrow. Are yourselves included in the party?”

  “No, we are not,” I answered, feeling my first niggle of pique—not jealousy, but pique.

  “I came to offer you a lift, if you were.”

  “Is it to be a large party?” I enquired, with very real curiosity. I did not think Lady Menrod would include Everett in a large party of her friends, yet to invite him to a small party was more flattering.

  “I’ve no idea. I’ll let you know after it is over, if you are curious. The ladies like to keep abreast of all the gossip, I know.”

  I had not thought to see the day when I had to learn my gossip from a lumber merchant!

  He did not remain long. There was no change in his attitude to me, no reason to believe Lady Althea was chasing him or that he was beginning to return the attention to her. It was one of those social oddities that occur in the country, when company is thin and time hanging heavy on everyone’s hands. The ladies had been bored, and gone to pass a day in ogling Oakdene.

  They were nice enough to return his hospitality. That was all, and to go on threatening me that I was “losing” a parti in whom I had no real interest was absurd of Mama, and annoying after ten or twelve repetitions. It was enough to put me in a pet, along with the dreary weather and hearing nothing about Gwen and Ralph. The visit had an effect on Mama’s interest in the ball. From wondering how she could avoid it, she now was impatient to receive her card.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  It began to seem, after a few days, that we were not going to receive invitations to the ball at all. Several neighbors mentioned having got theirs, while we nodded and implied we would see them there, unable to credit we were being cut. It was surely an oversight. Mrs. Tighe actually brought her card with her. I glanced at it, to see it signed by Lady Menrod. I had nothing against the dowager countess, nor she against me. She would not have left me off her list unless she had been asked to do so by someone close to her. We had not seen Menrod nor heard from him since the day of the riding lesson. It was hard to believe he would be so petty as to exclude us, but impossible not to wonder.

  He had sent the children down once with a servant. They came rather late in the afternoon, with orders that they be home for tea. He did not bother to enquire first whether the hour for the visit was convenient. We happened to be having a game of whist with a few neighbors at the time, but I was able to get free from the table. We usually invite four, which brings the total of ladies to six, so that we may each have a turn free to gossip.

  I was anxious to hear about Ralph’s riding. It was the first thing I asked him—how his lessons were going on. “I don’t fall any more,” he assured me.

  “Uncle Menrod got me a pony, too,” Gwen said happily. “We both ride together now.”

  “That’s nice, dear.”

  “I want him to take me back to London, but he won’t,” she continued. “We had a good time in London. Will you take me, Auntie?”

  “I don’t have a house in London, Gwen. I seldom go there.”

  “You must go sometimes.”

  “Once in a while, to put up at a hotel.”

  “I would love to stay at a hotel,” she said, smiling fondly. She really is a pretty rogue. “I have never stayed at one. Will you take me, the next time you go?”

  “If it is possible, I’ll take you both.”

  “When?” she demanded.

  “When I can. I am not planning a trip soon.”

  “Then will you take us to Reading, at least? I have to have a new riding habit.”

  “I can do that tomorrow, if it is convenient for you. I have to do some shopping myself.”

  “I’ll ask Uncle if we may go.”

  “Can I come too?” Ralph was not tardy to ask.

  “Of course, goose! You didn’t think the carriage would leave without you, I hope.”

  “What will you buy for Ralph?” Gwen asked.

  “An iced cone. How would you like that?”

  “If you are buying me a bonnet and riding habit, you’ll have to get Ralph more than ice,” she pointed out reasonably.

  I had not realized I was to buy the riding habit. I thought I would select it, while Menrod paid, but the sly puss had outwitted me. It would look too skintish to refuse, when she had taken it for an offer. I could not afford to alienate her at this time, when I wanted them in my custody.

  “We'll think of something,” I said vaguely. What I thought was that Menrod might prohibit the trip. I would not resent it in the least, as my purse was so close to empty, after hiring two lawyers in two weeks.

  Gwendolyn was made much of by our visitors. She was pretty, elegant, not shy to put herself forward. She would coast through life, making friends easily, and using them if they did not look sharp. Ralph was largely ignored, which suited his retiring nature to a T. He was uncomfortable when a few of the ladies tried to talk to him, answering in monosyllables if he could screw himself up to an answer at all.

  Their visit lasted one hour exactly. The servant had waited in the kitchen with Mrs. Pudge, who came to tell me the wee ones had to go now. I hoped I might hear something from the servant about the party readying at the Manor, though I would not submit him to a hard quiz, so I took Ralph and Gwen downstairs myself.

  “I expect you are all in a tizzy with this ball to prepare, eh, Haskins?” I asked the footman, while Gwen slipped around behind me to speak to Mrs. Pudge.

  “Yes, miss,” was all he said. “Your uncle said not to eat before you got home, Miss Gwendolyn,” he called to the minx. She had coaxed an apple tart from Mrs. Pudge, who was putty in her hands. Hettie had always been a prime love of both the Pudges.

  “May I please, Auntie, just one tiny little tart?” she asked, then with a laugh stuck the whole thing into her mouth. Mrs. Pudge makes a special dainty tart only an inch and a half in diameter, so this was not so gross an exhibition as it sounds.

  “Run along with you, baggage,” I said; then, as Ralph was looki
ng gypped, I sneaked one into his waiting fingers as well. It disappeared in the same fashion, in one bite.

  “That girl is a caution,” Haskins said, wagging his head and smiling fondly.

  “Don’t tell Uncle,” Gwen said, with one of her sweet smiles.

  “I may forget what I saw, if you hurry up,” he agreed.

  “I would like another,” Ralph announced through a mouthful of crumbs.

  “Take them home before they have demolished the plate. There won’t be any left for our guests,” I told Haskins.

  “What time will you call for us tomorrow, Auntie, to go to Reading?” Gwen asked, before leaving.

  “Why do you not have Haskins bring you here in the morning? Come early, about nine. The shops are not so busy then.”

  “We have to be back to ride at two,” she pointed out.

  “You are on a strict timetable, I see.”

  “Yes, Uncle Menrod has a theory about it,” she said.

  “I’m sure he has. See you at nine.”

  They left, while I helped Mrs. Pudge take the trays up to the sitting room.

  * * *

  Our trip to Reading went off next morning without a hitch. Haskins had the children at the door at nine sharp. “His lordship would like them home for tea,” was the word sent down from the Manor. The timetable theory was flexible enough to allow some bending. I was happy to hear it was not lunch that was the deadline, or it would have been a scrambling expedition to town.

  My mother elected to stay at home, in the hope, I believe, of receiving the invitation to the ball in the mail. She was gearing up for quite a fit of the vapors over our being omitted. It was my own plan to ignore it, say nothing, even if I met Lady Menrod or her stepson in town.

  We did not meet either of them. Gwen was every bit as finicky as her mother in selecting material for the new habit, and later in choosing a bonnet to suit it. Being so young, she was less aware of prices than Hettie. I suggested green, to set off her gray eyes, or even red, as she was youthful enough to look well in it. She chose blue. I had hoped to eke some small token for Ralph out of my monies, but as Gwen insisted her riding bonnet required a dashing feather, Ralph was lucky to get his iced cone.

  “Let us have lunch at a hotel,” Gwen suggested.

  I bribed her out of this expensive idea by listing the menu Mrs. Pudge had waiting at home. I measured her up for the habit before she left. “You will be in the highest kick of fashion once this is done,” I told her.

  “May I have pleats in the skirt?” she asked.

  “A flared skirt is more flattering. Pleats are bulky, especially with a jacket over them.”

  “Silver buttons, then?” she haggled.

  “Why not? I have a set from an old habit of my own. You are welcome to them.”

  “Isn’t it exciting to have new gowns?” she asked. “And you are so good at fashions too, Auntie. Even Lady Althea agreed your green morning gown was pretty.”

  “I am flattered to hear it. Agreed with whom?” I asked, wondering if it were possible Menrod had uttered a word in its praise.

  “With me, “ she replied. “You always look so nice.”

  I enjoyed the outing tremendously. It was like being a mother, to have the children along with me, driving, going through the shops, and later preparing the habit. Gwen could be charming, when she took into her head to be.

  IAs she grew up, it would be fun to outfit her, and take her around to parties. Ralph, my favorite, was not overlooked either, though he played second fiddle on that occasion. When we were done, I noticed he had wandered off from the room, to seek amusement outdoors.

  I went after him, and found him pushing himself back and forth on an old swing that has hung from one of the lime trees out back forever. It had served the inhabitants of the cottage for eons, and even myself, once or twice when no one was around to watch me. He had to hang off the edge of the seat to get his short legs to the ground to push himself.

  “Hold on tight, I’ll push you,” I offered, but was careful not to push too hard.

  “Push me higher,” he urged, being more daring that I would have thought.

  I pushed till his toes were not far from hitting the lower boughs when he reached the top of the arc. Squeals of delight accompanied each rise. We were so engrossed in the game, we did not see Menrod approaching from behind.

  “Can this possibly be the cautious Miss Harris, indulging Ralph in such a dangerous activity?” he asked.

  “Dangerous? It is not in the least dangerous. He is enjoying it,” I answered. His shouts showed clearly it was the case.

  “If he should tumble, he will fall farther than he did from the pony’s back.”

  I eased off on my pushing, let him subside to a gentle sway. “Is it teatime so soon? The children were about to go to you, but Ralph wanted a swing before he left.” I expected some show of ill temper from Menrod, after our last unpleasant encounter. There was no evidence of it. His manner was closer to conciliating.

  “There is no hurry. I was passing by and decided to pick them up, to save a trip. Did you ladies get yourselves outfitted for the new gowns?” he asked.

  “It was only Gwendolyn who was to get material, for her new riding habit, you know. Now that you have got her a pony, she will need a habit.”

  “Another habit?” he asked.

  “Another? I thought she didn’t have one.”

  “She would have me believe she had outgrown the new one she got before leaving India, but it looked fine to me. It was kind of you to indulge her.”

  “Not at all. It was a pleasure,” I answered, angry as a hornet at being duped by the girl.

  “Are you not having a new gown yourself, for the ball next week?” he asked.

  “Your ball, you mean?” I verified, rather surprised at the question.

  “No, Lady Menrod’s ball for her cousin, to be held at my house.”

  “I shan’t require a new gown for that,” I answered stiffly.

  “Palming us off with an old one, eh? I don’t think we are to take that as a compliment.”

  “As a matter of fact, I shan’t be wearing a ball gown that night at all. We are not attending the ball.”

  He stiffened up, adopting an offended face. “No doubt there is a reason for it?” he asked.

  “The best reason in the world. We were not invited.”

  He was very much taken aback. A frown formed between his eyes. Within an instant, it vanished, and a new expression was put on, a very conning expression. “Don’t tell me I forgot to mail your invitations!” he exclaimed, rather loudly.

  “I don’t know whether it was an oversight or an intentional omission, but we did not receive cards from your stepmother. We are hardly the best of friends, however. We did not take it amiss, I assure you.”

  “Don’t be foolish. Of course you are invited. The whole neighborhood is coming. They have even sent a card to Mr. Everett. I—I told Lady Menrod I would like to invite a few of my own particular friends, send the cards out myself. I believe I may have mentioned your name in with the others. That explains it. I shall send them out this very day.”

  He was a poor liar, but a fast thinker to make up for it. We had been omitted, for what reason I do not know, unless the ladies thought we would attend on Mr. Everett’s card. That was the only thought I could think of. I accepted his story at its face value, and told him we would be happy to receive the invitations.

  He hastened on to a less prickly topic. “Ralph is making good headway with his riding lessons. It would have been poor policy to make too much of his spill. I have a theory that the only way to proceed is to remount immediately after a fall, before the fear has time to grow out of proportion.”

  "I have discovered something you have in common with Mr. Everett at last. He told me the same thing. I have a theory too, that till a boy’s feet reach the stirrups, he ought not to be made to ride.”

  “He was not made to ride. He suggested it. It was surely not necessary for you
to complain to Everett about a family matter,”

  “It was mentioned in passing—by my mother, actually.”

  “She must be on better terms with him than she is with me. I have noticed she seldom utters a word, if she can help it. Does she dislike me so much?” he asked bluntly.

  “She never said so, if she does. I believe you said something nasty to her at the time of Hettie’s marriage to Peter. I don’t know what it was, but she has said more than once you cut up stiff over it.”

  He rubbed his chin, in an effort to retrace that ancient conversation. He soon shrugged his shoulders and dismissed it. “I was not particularly pleased at the match. The family felt Peter, as the younger son, ought to have looked out for some well-dowered lady. I did not forbid the match, as I could have done.”

  “Why did you not?”

  “He told me he couldn’t live without her—romantics are allowed such exaggerations in the throes of love. Of course even he did not mean it literally, but he convinced me that for him, life would not be worth living without her, so I reluctantly gave them my blessing.”

  Ralph’s swing slowed to a stop. He jumped down and came to us. “Why don’t you run inside and call your sister?” Menrod suggested.

  “Will you come in?” I asked, for politeness’s sake.

  “Let us wait here, the weather is so fine. Do you want a push while we wait?” he asked, indicating the swing. The suggestion surprised me, such a quaint notion, to spring from Menrod’s worldly head.

  “No, but I shall take advantage of the seat. I am tired from shopping all morning.”

  I arranged my skirts carefully around me, not entirely unconscious of the picture I made. The lime orchard is the prettiest feature of our landscape here at the cottage. The roses that climb over the cottage front, once an item of great beauty, do not flourish as they did in days of yore, though they are pretty for about a week in early June. I was a trifle put out to see Menrod stroll away from me, behind, where he would see nothing but my back.

  Soon I realized he had gone around to push me in the swing, despite my declining his offer. He began at first with a gentle pressure, just moving the swing a foot back and forth. It was too foolish to object to this, so I said nothing. The pushes increased in force, till I was sailing through the air, my skirts ballooning around me.