It was still early when the children reached Troublous Times Castle. Dr. Maybright would not be likely to join them for nearly an hour. They had walked fast, and Polly, at least, felt both tired and cross. When the twins ran up to her and assured her with much enthusiasm that they had never had a more delightful walk, she turned from them with a little muttered “Pshaw!” Polly’s attentions now to Maggie were most marked, and if this young person were not quite one of the most obtuse in existence, it is possible she might have felt slightly embarrassed.
“While we’re waiting for father,” exclaimed Polly, speaking aloud, and in that aggressive tone which had not been heard from her lips since the night of the supper in the attic—“while we’re waiting for father we’ll get the banqueting-hall ready. Maggie and I will see to this, but any one who likes to join us can. We don’t require any assistance, but if it gives pleasure to any of the others to see us unpack the baskets, now is the time for them to say the word.”
“But, of course, we’re all going to get the dinner ready,” exclaimed Dolly and Katie, in voices of consternation. “What a ridiculous way you are talking, Polly! This is all our affair; half the fun is getting the dinner ready. Isn’t it, Nell?”
“Yes, of course,” said Helen, in her pleasant, bright voice. “We’ll all do as much as we can do to make the banqueting-hall ready for father. Now, let’s get George to take the hampers there at once; and, Flower, I thought, perhaps, you would help me to touch up the creepers here and there, they do look so lovely falling over that ruined west window. Come, Flower, now let’s all of us set to work without any more delay.”
“Yes, Flower, and you know you have such a way of making things look sweet,” said David, taking his sister’s hand and kissing it.
She put her arm carelessly round his neck, stooped down, and pressed her lips to his brow, then said in that light, arch tone, which she had used all day, “David is mistaken. I can’t make things look sweet, and I’m not coming to the banqueting-hall at present.”
There was a pointed satire in the two last words. Flower’s big blue eyes rested carelessly on Maggie, then they traveled to where Polly stood, and a fine scorn curled her short, sensitive upper lip. The words she had used were nothing, but[Pg 95] her expressive glance meant a good deal. Polly refused to see the world of entreaty on David’s face—she threw down her challenge with equal scorn and a good deal of comic dignity.
“It’s a very good thing, then, you’re not coming to the banqueting-hall, Flower,” she said. “For we don’t want people there who have no taste. I suppose it’s because you are an Australian, for in England even the cottagers know a little about how to make picnics look pretty. Maggie is a cottager at present, as she’s out of a situation, so it’s lucky we’ve brought her. Now, as every one else wants to come, let them, and don’t let’s waste any more time, or when father comes, we really will have nothing ready for him to eat.”
“Very well,” said Flower. “Then I shall take a walk by myself. I wish to be by myself. No, David you are not to come with me, I forbid it.”
For a quarter of a second a queer steely light filled her blue eyes. David shrank from her glance, and followed the rest of the party down a flight of steps which led also into the old banqueting-hall.
“You’ve done it now,” he whispered to Polly. “You’ll be very, very sorry by-and-by, and you’ll remember then that I warned you.”
“I really think you’re the most tiresome boy,” said Polly. “You want to make mysteries out of nothing. I don’t see that Flower is particularly passionate; she’s a little bit sarcastic, and she likes to say nasty, scathing things, but you don’t suppose I mind her! She’ll soon come to her senses when she sees that we are none of us petting her, or bowing down to her. I expect that you and your father have spoiled that Flower of yours over in Ballarat.”
“You don’t know Flower a bit,” responded David. “I warned you. You’ll remember that presently. Flower not passionate! Why, she was white with passion when she went away. Well, you wait and see.”
“I wish you’d stop talking,” responded Polly, crossly. “We’ll never have things ready if you chatter so, and try to perplex me. There’s poor Fly almost crying over that big hamper. Please, David, go and help her to get the knives, and forks, and glasses out, and don’t break any glasses, for we’re always fined if we break glasses at picnics.”
David moved away slowly. He was an active little fellow as a rule, but now there seemed to be a weight over him. The vivaciousness had left his handsome dark little face; once he turned round and looked at Polly with a volume of reproach in his eyes.
She would not meet his eyes, she was bending over her own hamper, and was laughing and chatting gayly with every one who came within her reach. The moment Flower’s influence was removed Polly became once more the ringleader of all the fun. Once more she was appealed to, her advice asked, her directions followed. She could not help[Pg 96] admitting to herself that she liked the change, and for the first time a conscious feeling of active dislike to Flower took possession of h............