Читать книгу Greycliff Heroines - Harriet Pyne Grove - Страница 6

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Dinner had been concluded some time ago. The girls were settling themselves in the swing, or wicker chairs, near one corner of the veranda.

“Lilian, you look like a rose in that pink organdy,” said Betty.

“That’s sweet of you to say, Pansy Girl.” Betty had sometimes been called that since she had worn the pansy dress in the masquerade. “But you look more like forget-me-nots tonight in blue. And Cathalina is like a lily—lilies of the valley and English violets.”

“My white and coral are not much like violets,” said Cathalina.

“Sweet peas, then. They have every color.”

“What’s Hilary, if we must all be flowers?”

“Oh, Hilary’s all the fresh spring flowers that we are glad to see in the spring, hyacinths and lilacs and syringas——”

“Fresh! I like that.”

“Don’t try to put a wrong construction on what I say. Heliotrope and mignonette, that is it.”

“Nonsense,” said Hilary. “I’ll be a sturdy old red geranium that lasts all the year around, and even if you hang it up by the roots in the cellar it grows leaves and flowers the next year.”

“All right, Hilary—our little red geranium!” The girls laughed at this nonsense and looked up in surprise to hear another laugh near by. Mr. Van Buskirk had come out on the porch and stood leaning against a pillar behind them.

“If you want my opinion,” said he, “I should say that this is as pretty a cluster of roses as we ever had at this house, Hilary quite as blooming as the rest.”

“We thank you,” said Betty, rising and curtseying deeply, while the rest followed her example.

“Are you expecting company soon?” inquired Mr. Van Buskirk.

“We told them to come early,” said Cathalina. “I think I see Campbell and Emily now. Do we stay out here or go inside?”

“Out here—why not?” said Philip appearing in the doorway and sauntering out toward them. “There come the Van Nesses. Come on out, Bob. Where’s Dick? Oh, here he comes,” added Philip as the rapid toe-tapping of some one running down stairs was heard, and Richard North followed Robert and Philip. Mrs. Van Buskirk made her appearance before Campbell and Emily had reached the top of the steps. The guests arrived at very nearly the same time and were cordially greeted. Robert Paget had been there before and knew Philip’s relatives, but everybody had to be introduced to Richard North, as well as to his sister and Betty. Mr. and Mrs. Van Buskirk were particularly interested in meeting Captain Van Horne, of whom Cathalina had written. Who was this young man who had succeeded in making an impression on their little girl? He disclaimed the title of captain as he was introduced, saying that it was only appropriate when he was a part of the military school organization, but the Greycliff girls continued to address him as Captain Van Horne.

Campbell’s sister Emily was glad to see Hilary again, and after a little chat with her, passed her over to Campbell, who, she guessed, was hoping to have a good visit with her. And as Cathalina was busy welcoming the different ones, Emily tried to make Captain Van Horne feel at home by chatting with him. It was like Emily, fine girl that she was, unconscious of herself and interested in every church and public or private enterprise to help others. Both were more mature than the rest of the young people.

“And here’s my dear cousin Philip!” exclaimed Ann Maria, handing her wrap and scarf to one of the maids who had come out to assist at this informal affair, and then holding out both hands to Philip. “Come and give an account of yourself. I’ve scarcely seen you all summer.”

“Naturally not, my dear young lady, when you have not been within calling distance. Come and meet our guests.”

Ann Maria Van Ness was as straight as Aunt Katherine, who had brought her up—graceful, with an assured manner and a handsome, striking face. Her voice had a pleasant quality and her dress a style which made Hilary and Lilian feel countrified at once. She fairly took possession of Philip, and claimed considerable attention from the other young gentlemen, all without a single unladylike act.

Philip, upon request, brought out his guitar, and the young company sang the well known songs of the year. When they started the pretty and sentimental song so familiar, then, among college students, “Why I Love You,” Lilian’s voice was so beautiful that all with one accord stopped singing and let Lilian’s soprano and Philip’s tenor finish the last two stanzas. But Ann Maria was fidgety and complained of mosquitoes.

“All right; let’s go in, folks,” invited Philip. “Ann Maria, I want to hear your latest recital number.”

Accordingly, all trooped into the large front room, where Ann Maria sat down at the piano, dashed off the latest popular tunes and finally entered the classical realm, playing a difficult composition exceedingly well.

“She can play well!” exclaimed Hilary, in surprise, to Campbell and Lilian, with whom she happened to be grouped. Robert Paget was near, also, and replied, “Yes, but she can not equal Phil. Wait till I get the old boy started.”

But it was not necessary for Robert to ask Philip. Ann Maria herself made the request, as she rose from the piano. “I have to get in my playing before Philly begins,” said his cousin. “Come and give us your latest composition.”

Philip rather protested, saying, “It is not for the host to play; it is for the guests.” But, seeing they all wanted to hear him, he took his place at the baby grand, played the different compositions they asked for, then placed some music before him and beckoned to Cathalina. After a few words with Philip, she went over to escort Lilian to the piano, Philip rose and said, “We promised several of the family that they shall hear you sing, Lilian. Will you please come now?”

“Yes, indeed,” replied Lilian, “but when I think of the music you people can hear in this city, I do hesitate to sing for you.”

“Oh, but we love your voice,” said Cathalina.

Lilian had scarcely ever found it so hard to sing. She knew that there was at least one listener who was critical, and she felt her own youth and lack of training. But Lilian was always ready to help make the social machine run smoothly, and now moved to the piano with much grace and sweetness. In a few minutes she had forgotten herself in singing to Philip’s sympathetic and beautiful accompaniment, and felt that exaltation which often held her and her hearers as well. A murmur of appreciation greeted her at the end of the first song and they kept her singing for a while, Philip so happy and proud, and Mrs. Van Buskirk leaning forward to listen and watch the flushed face and rapt eyes of the young singer.

Captain Van Horne managed to sit by Cathalina during the music, and in the intervals between numbers she entertained him by telling about the people present or their fun at camp, and asked him about his busy summer.

“My ‘attic’ has been quite warm,” said he, “but I have studied and read in different cool spots, attended my law classes and have filled up my time in other ways.”

Cathalina knew that he was doing something to help make his way, but she did not refer to that. She thought that he looked worn and wished that she might put a little cheer into his dull days. Cathalina was learning much sympathy, as she began to realize the responsibilities that some of her friends had to carry. The old self-centered little girl that knew nothing of life’s serious interests had long since disappeared.

Richard North was becoming acquainted with pretty, plump, fair Louise Van Ness, with Emily, and, of course, with the vivacious Ann Maria.

Nan Van Ness was the cousin of Cathalina’s age who used to copy Ann Maria, whom she greatly admired, as younger girls do admire the older ones sometimes. But Nan, now, had been away to school herself, and like Cathalina, had become interested in many things on her own account. She and Betty were having great fun with Lawrence Haverhill and Robert Paget. Rosalie Haverhill had not come.

It was “a nice party,” as Lilian said to herself, and she wondered why she could not seem to enjoy it more, for Lilian was a gay-hearted girl, at the head of most of the fun among her chums at school. In her heart she knew that it was the relation of Ann Maria to Phil that troubled her. But she went right on, taking part in all the visiting and fun. By chance she was with Louise and Ann Maria when the cooling ices and pretty cakes and fresh fruit were served and Philip himself waited on both her and Ann Maria, with the same courtesy to both!

“He is that way with all the girls,” she thought. “His attention to me hasn’t meant a thing. His ‘musical wife,’ indeed! Ann Maria plays, and I sing.” Lilian was thinking of Philip’s conversation in the pine grove at camp, when he “seemed so serious,” spoke of planning for a musical wife, and first asked her to write to him. And now jealousy whispered that it had not been earnest. All this ran through her mind while she talked to the girls, told of their most thrilling experiences in camp, and laughed with the rest. Ann Maria did not stay all night, as Cathalina had urged her to do. No, indeed. She handed her wraps to Philip to put on for her, and Philip took her home. To be sure, there were others in the car, Campbell, Emily, Louise and Nan, but Ann Maria sat in front with Phil, who drove. And Lilian did not know that Philip had asked his mother if he might not take Lilian, too. “You may, but it isn’t best,” Mrs. Van Buskirk had answered. “Since all the girls can’t go, you’d better not ask any of them.”

The days were few for all the good times. There was so much of the city to be seen, lunches to be taken in odd places, drives here and there, an entertainment or two on Broadway, a dinner at the Stuarts’, and as a climax the “real party.” For this, each lass had a lad, each lad a lass to escort to the tables for the elaborate meal served by Watta and a capable group of waiters. As Mrs. Van Buskirk had decided that there would be time to issue invitations, they had been sent out to all the more intimate circle of Cathalina’s and Philip’s friends.

Philip insisted that he was to have Lilian. Hilary, of course, was assigned to Campbell. Their friendship proceeded on its calm and apparently unsentimental way, but Campbell was there and with Hilary as much of the time as possible. There was quite a discussion between Cathalina and her mother about Captain Van Horne.

“Now, Mother dear,” said Cathalina, “if Captain Van Horne is invited for Emily or Louise, he’ll have to go for her, send her flowers, I suppose, and he hasn’t any car, and I would be right here, and it would be all right if he did not think of flowers.”

Her mother laughed. “You are greatly concerned, Cathalina.”

“Indeed I am. I like him, though I like Robert Paget, too. But Captain Van Horne is older and I think it would be all right for him to take me out to supper, don’t you? He’s a teacher, too.”

“How would you arrange it, then?”

“Let Bob take Betty, or would it be better to have him take Ann Maria?”

“Ann Maria would rather have one of our house guests, I think——”

“Since she can’t have Phil,” finished Cathalina.

“Don’t say that, Cathalina.”

“All right, then; Bob for Ann Maria, and Dick for Louise. They can go for the girls together in our car. Lawrence Haverhill can have Betty. Oh, yes, I had forgotten; he asked Phil if he might not.”

The girlish guests were quite excited when the fateful night arrived. Lovely bouquets had arrived for them. “Look at Cathalina!” said Betty. “With all the flowers she has, she is as excited as any of us over her roses.”

“Well, who sent them?” asked Cathalina. “Wouldn’t you be excited if a distinguished officer in a military school sent you flowers?”

“I am excited,” said Lilian, holding to view the most beautiful roses of all. “And I’m sure nobody could be more gifted than the young gentleman who sent these.”

“Listen to ’em rave,” said Betty to Hilary in pitying tones. “I fancy I hear Lilian sing ‘I Dreamt That I Dwelt in Marble Halls.’”

At this Lilian pretended to advance threateningly upon Betty, who fled behind Hilary. Hilary warded both off, and laughingly warned them that with their nonsense they might easily spoil all the bouquets.

“Don’t worry, Hilary, none of us ever really do anything. We just threaten. I can’t bear any physical nonsense or tricks.”

“Nor I, Lilian,” said Betty.

This social occasion was a much happier one to Lilian than the first, for while Philip was the attentive and gallant host, each lady was provided with an especial escort, and he had at last an opportunity to devote himself to Lilian. But Lilian was an uncertain quantity since she had observed Ann Maria with Philip. Her gay, though friendly, manner rather put a damper on any approach to the sentimental or serious, and she kept to the groups of young friends with whom they were surrounded. Mrs. Van Buskirk had engaged several professional musicians, in whose performance Lilian was especially interested. “You have everything, Philip,” she said once, “and you ought to be thankful!”

“I am,” said Philip, “but I haven’t everything I want. And sometimes I think I shall have to do without what I want most.”

That speech troubled Lilian for a moment, but just at that point Ann Maria and Robert Paget came up, with Nan Van Ness and her escort, and Philip turned a smiling face upon Ann Maria, as he replied to one of her sallies. “I need not worry about him,” thought Lilian.

As she and Hilary crept into bed late that night, too tired to sleep, she asked Hilary if Ann Maria were Cathalina’s first cousin.

“Oh, no,” replied Hilary. “I believe her father was a first cousin of Mrs. Van Buskirk’s. Oh, Lilian, wasn’t it fine to have a maid pick up after you? I’m getting spoiled in the lap of luxury. It’s a good thing I’m leaving. How convenient for you, too, that your brother could stay. I believe he had a good time, and now he can take you home.”

“Yes, we’ll have a good chat tomorrow on the train and I’ll have a better chance to find out what he and Father are going to do. Good night, Hilary.”

“Not so very closely related. Then Phil could marry Ann Maria if he—they—wanted to.”