Daisy Ashford: Her Book Part 9

CHAPTER 3

It was eight o'clock next morning when Beatrice opened her weary eyes and look round her little room. She jumped up immediately and ran down to breakfast.

Her father had just gone off to his farming, but her mother was sitting in her accustomed place by the fireside reading a letter which was evidently causing her some anxiety.

"Well Mother" cried Beatrice, "what is the matter?"

"Well dear" replied Mrs. Langton, sipping her tea as she spoke, "I have had a letter from Mrs. Vindsor who went abroad last year, and she wants you to go and spend the winter with her in Paris. I would like you to go dear, but you are my eldest child and you are by no means strong."

"Oh Mother do let me go, I should enjoy it, and you know I am much stronger since I took to eating Mother Segul's Syrup."

"I know my love" said Mrs. Langton, "I will speak to your father about it, and in the meantime pour me out another cup of tea please."

Beatrice caught hold of the teapot smiling happily as she did so; her father was not the man to say no, and what he said her mother seldom differed from; so she cut her bread and carved her bacon singing a merry song through it all. After breakfast Beatrice dusted the room, got the children ready for school, and then adjusting a straw hat upon her golden tresses she prepared herself for a saunter through the beautiful fields fresh with the smell of new mown hay and Alderny cows. She gathered flowers as she went and though she felt bright and happy by the news the post had brought there was a sore corner in her heart--she had quarrelled with Lawrence Cathcart, and there was not a man in Senbury Glen who did not know his temper! As she strolled along she caught sight of Mr. Langton who was discussing the subject of Welsh sheep with a tradesman. He saw Beatrice and walked towards her.

"Well Bia," he cried, "looking at my cows? aren't they lovely?"

"Beautiful Father," cried Beatrice, "but do you know Mrs. Vindsor wants me to go to Paris and spend the winter with her family, and may I go?"

"Yes certainly," said Mr. Langton, "and I suppose that means you would like a pound or two to buy dresses and hats?"

Beatrice bit her lip and smiled, "I suppose so father," she said gazing placidly at her worn elbows.

"Very well," said her father, "I will give you 10, I should advice a blue serge dress and a yellow hat."

"Oh no father!" shrieked Beatrice, "I will get a green dress and a hat trimmed with roses."

"Very well," said Mr Langton kicking the hay with his feet "do as you please my dear, by the bye when are you expected in Paris?"

"Tomorrow week father," said Beatrice, "at least so Mother says."

Mr Langton whistled and then turning to his daughter he said, "I tell you what Bia, you had better call at the dressmaker on your way home, I hate a bustle at the last moment." so saying Mr Langton gave his daughter 10 in ready gold! Beatrice took them home and put them in her purse till the afternoon when she paid a long visit to the dressmaker.

She invested in a lovely green silk dress trimmed with a delicate shade of rose pink, and the dainty little hat was of the same picturesque colours. She likewise bought a costly diamond brooch and two silver bangles to make up the 10.

On coming out of the shop she turned on to the moors for a last walk before going to Paris, for there would be plenty to do at home such as darning stockings, mending clothes, etc: She called for Nelly Reeves (a friend of hers); it would be a good chance to outdo her thought Beatrice, for Nelly had been to Italy the year before and did nothing but boast of it all day. So the two girls arm in arm started for the moors. Nelly Reeves was a tall good looking girl, slightly pretty, but with none of the wistful beauty about her that was so clearly stamped on all Beatrice Langton's features. She had black hair and what she considered beautiful eyes, though they really were small and vacant in their perpetual stare.

"Well I hope you will enjoy yourself" she remarked briskly when Beatrice told her of the invitation to Paris.

"I am sure I shall," said Beatrice, gently feeling her hair behind, "only think of the delights of it! The Vindsors live in a Chateau you know!"

"Yes, I suppose it will be jolly for you," said Nelly "who are the Vindsors?"

"Oh dont you remember Clara Vindsor?" said Beatrice, "she was so very pretty and polite in her ways."

"I recollect her," said Nelly gazing on the far away blue hills, "oh Beatrice how lovely that view is!"

"Yes," said Beatrice sadly, "I came up here last night for a walk."

"Alone?" asked Nelly.

Beatrice wished she had not spoken then, but being frank and straightforward she replied "no I was not alone."

"Who with?" enquired Nelly.

"Never mind," retorted Beatrice.

"Oh Beatrice do tell me" coaxed Nelly, I'll not tell a soul."

"I dont care if you do," said Beatrice coldly.

"Well let me see if I can guess" said Nelly artfully "was it Mr Cathcart?"

"What makes you guess him?" asked Beatrice angrily.

"Why because he has been paying attentions to you lately, and I thought he might have come up here to propose" said Nelly.

"You have most silly ideas!" retorted Beatrice, "if you dont leave off please to go home, what if he did propose?"

"Oh nothing at all," replied Nelly, "if you are so disagreeable I _will_ go home," so saying Miss Reeves tucked up her dress and walked home.

"Life is hard!" sighed Beatrice, "nothing seems to go right, first I quarrel with Lawrence and then with Nelly--why what is that?" she cried as she caught sight of something gold glittering in the pathway.

She stooped to pick it up; it was a gentleman's gold link, beautifully carved and engraved with the initials L. C.

"L. C." repeated Beatrice handling the link pensively "why they are his initials, can it be his I wonder? why yes" she continued, "here is the name Lawrence Cathcart; His Links! yes they are his, I will keep them and I may some day have occasion to return them to him," so saying she put the articles in her leather purse and turned towards home.

In some unaccountable way Beatrice turned into the High Street and had to pa.s.s Lawrence Cathcart's house, a splendid white stone building standing apart from the other houses in a beautiful garden of well tended blooms.

"What riches!" sighed Beatrice pausing at the iron gates, and as her blue eyes searched the lovely grounds her glance fell upon Lawrence Cathcart. He was standing under a tree with an open book in his hands.

He wore a light fawn suit and his black curly hair was exposed to the Autumn sun; and as Beatrice gazed on this good looking young man she wondered why she had not noticed before how exquisitely curly his hair and moustache was, how fine his nose and eyes, and how beautifully his mouth was curved.

But she did not talk to him or try to attract his attention, and sad and disheartened she walked home.

CHAPTER 4

Tea was ready when Beatrice returned home and she drew in her chair and cl.u.s.tered round the table.

"Well, what is your dress like?" asked Mrs Langton as she pa.s.sed the b.u.t.ter to her husband.

"Oh it is lovely Mother" answered Beatrice, "and oh Father" she continued, "I bought some jewellry too!"