Our Bessie Part 13

"Edna does not feel inclined to sing to-night, but if you can put up with my deficiencies, I will try what I can do. My music is rather old-fas.h.i.+oned, but I know one or two pretty ballads, if you care to hear them."

"Thanks; I should like it very much," was all Richard said, as he opened the piano; but his face cleared like magic. It was not the song he wanted, but that some one should care to please him. All his life long this had been his longing; and the cold indifference with which his expressed wishes had always been met by his mother and Edna had chilled his affectionate nature. Bessie had a pretty voice, though it showed want of training, but she could sing a simple ballad with much sweetness and feeling, and Richard, who had a fine ear for music, avowed himself much pleased.

"You ought to have some good lessons," he said frankly. "Your voice has great capabilities, but it has not been properly trained. I hope you do not think my criticism rude."

"No, indeed; I am too much aware of my own faults. I have only had a few lessons. Miss James was not much of a teacher, but I cannot help singing somehow. Now, have I tired you, or do you want another song?"

"I want more than one," returned Richard, growing bold. Bessie's readiness to please, her good-humored reception of his criticism, charmed him. She was so amiable, so willing to be friendly; she was so different from the other girls who came to The Grange. Richard had no patience with them; their airs and graces, their evident desire for masculine admiration disgusted and repelled him. They seemed always seeking for him to pay them little compliments and attentions, and in his heart he despised them.

"Thank you, my dear," observed Mrs. Sefton graciously, when Bessie had finished. "She sings very nicely, does she not, Edna?"

"Charmingly," replied Edna; but her smile was hardly as pleased as usual, and she bade Bessie a somewhat cold good-night when they parted an hour later.

CHAPTER XI.

EDNA HAS A GRIEVANCE.

Bessie did not concern herself much about her friend's coldness. She had tried to atone to Richard for his sister's unkindness, and she had succeeded in giving one person pleasure.

"I dare say her conscience tells her that she has been naughty, and that makes her cross with me," thought Bessie, who was too healthy minded to harbor unnecessary scruples.

Hatty would have made herself wretched under the circ.u.mstances; would have accused herself of boldness, and love of display, and a want of consideration for Edna; for Hatty, who was a self-tormentor by nature, could spin a whole web of worries out of a single thread; but Bessie never troubled herself with morbid after-thoughts. "Edna will be all right with me to-morrow," she said to herself; and she was right in her prognostication.

Edna came downstairs the next morning radiant with good humor, and was even civil to Richard. It was a brilliant day; her friends had all accepted her invitation, and she was looking forward to a most enjoyable afternoon.

It was impossible for Bessie to resist the influence of her friend's gayety and flow of spirits. Edna's example was infectious, and Bessie was soon laughing heartily at her nonsensical speeches. There was no quiet for reading that morning. She had to practice tennis with Edna, and help her arrange the flowers; and finally she was carried off to be made smart.

"I wish you had a white dress, too," observed Edna regretfully; for in her heart she thought Bessie's favorite gray gown very dowdy and Quakerish. "But we must try to enliven you with a few flowers. You are going to wear a gray hat. Wait a moment." And Edna darted out of the room, and returned a moment afterward with a dainty cream lace fichu.

"Look, this lace is lovely! Mamma gave it to me, but I never wear it now, and it will just suit you. Now let me fasten in a few of those creamy roses. Well, you do look nice after all, Daisy dear."

"Yes; but not half so nice as you," replied Bessie, looking with honest admiration at the pretty young creature. Edna's soft white dress just suited her fair hair and delicate complexion, and she looked so slim and graceful, as she stood before the gla.s.s fastening a rosebud at her throat, that Bessie said, involuntarily, "How nice it must be to be so pretty!" but there was no trace of envy in her tone.

Edna blushed a little over the compliment.

"Do I look pretty? Thank you, Bessie. Isn't it a pity Neville cannot see me?" and she laughed mischievously over her vain speech. "Now, come along, there's a dear, or the people will arrive before we are ready for them. There, I declare I hear Florence's voice!" And the two girls ran down and joined Mrs. Sefton in the drawing-room.

Well, it was a very pleasant garden party, and Bessie thoroughly enjoyed herself, though it was the grandest affair she had ever seen--so many people driving up in their carriages, and such smart footmen lingering in the hall, and a bevy of officers who were quartered in the neighborhood. But Bessie was not left out in the cold. Florence Atherton took her under her wing, and introduced some nice people to her. She even took part in one game when there was a vacancy, and her partner, a young lieutenant, was very good-natured, and only laughed when she missed the ball.

"We have won, after all, you see," he observed, when the match was over.

"Yes, thanks to you," replied Bessie honestly.

"Not at all. You played very well. Now shall we go and get an ice? I wonder what's become of Sefton? I don't see him anywhere."

"Oh, he is playing cricket at Melton. He is captain of the village club, I believe. I don't think he cares for tennis."

"I suppose not," was the dry rejoinder; but the young man slightly elevated his eyebrows in a meaning manner. Bessie heard other remarks on Richard's absence before the end of the afternoon. A young lady to whom she had been recently introduced addressed the same question to her.

"Mr. Sefton is not putting in an appearance this afternoon, Miss Lambert."

"No, I believe not; he is otherwise engaged."

"It is very odd," replied Miss Green significantly; "but Mr. Sefton always is engaged when his sister gives one of her parties. I am told he hates society, and that sort of thing. Isn't it a pity that he should be so different from Edna? She is a darling, and so charming, but her brother--" and here Miss Green shrugged her shoulders, and her keen black eyes seemed to demand Bessie's opinion; but Bessie made no rejoinder. She was not much prepossessed with Miss Green, and left her as soon as politeness allowed her, to sit with an old lady who was very chatty and amusing, and who called her "my dear" at every word.

It was no use trying to speak to Edna; she was always surrounded by a group of young people. Once or twice the thought crossed Bessie's mind, how Mr. Sinclair would like to see her laughing and talking so long with that handsome Captain Grant. She was not exactly flirting--Bessie would not do her that injustice--but she allowed him to pay her a great deal of attention. It struck her that Mrs. Sefton was uneasy, for she called her to her side once.

"My dear Miss Lambert, I cannot attract Edna's attention, and I want to speak to her particularly; she is somewhere in the shrubberies with that tall man with the dark mustache--Captain Grant. I spoke to her as she pa.s.sed just now, but neither of them heard me."

"Shall I go and fetch her, Mrs. Sefton?"

"I shall be very glad if you will do so, my dear." And Bessie at once started in pursuit. She overtook them by the summer-house. Edna looked rather bored as she received her mother's message, though she at once obeyed it; but Captain Grant kept his place at her side.

Mrs. Sefton received him rather coldly.

"Edna," she said, addressing her daughter, "I want to speak to you about the Mackenzie's; they are sitting quite alone, and no one is talking to them; and that tall brother of their's has not played a single game."

"That is his own fault. I offered him Marian Atherton for a partner ages ago, but he plays badly; as for the girls, they keep aloof from everybody. I introduced Mr. Sayers and Major Sparkes to them, but they have evidently frightened them away. Mamma, are we engaged for Thursday?

because Captain Grant wants us to go and see the officers play polo."

"That is the day I am going up to town, Edna."

"But you can put it off," she interposed eagerly. "It will be such fun.

Mrs. Grant is to give us tea, and it will be such a treat for Bessie."

"My mother is counting upon the pleasure of seeing you all, Mrs. Sefton.

She has been unable to call, but she is hoping to make your acquaintance in this way."

"She is very kind, Captain Grant," returned Mrs. Sefton stiffly; "but unfortunately, as my daughter knows, I have a very important engagement for that day."

"I am extremely sorry to hear it; still, if the young ladies care to drive over, my mother will chaperone them," persisted Captain Grant; "or perhaps their brother."

"Oh, of course! I forgot Richard," exclaimed Edna, disregarding her mother's evident objections.

Mrs. Sefton looked annoyed, but she said civilly:

"I will see what Richard thinks; but you must not take anything for granted, Edna, until I have spoken to him."

"Oh, I will tease him into taking us," returned Edna gayly. "I do love polo, and I am sure Bessie will be delighted. Now we must start another game, Captain Grant." And before her mother could interpose Edna had crossed the lawn with him.

"Shall you be very disappointed if you do not see polo, Miss Lambert?"

asked Mrs. Sefton presently.

"No, indeed. But I am afraid Edna will be; she seems to have set her heart on going."

"Richard will not take her," returned Mrs. Sefton; "he has a strong objection to Captain Grant; and I must own I think he is right. He is very handsome, but he has not a straightforward look. I have no wish to see him intimate here. He is forward and pus.h.i.+ng, and does not take a rebuff. But Edna does not agree with me," with a quick, impatient sigh.