Part 6 (2/2)
Girlie Dinsmore arrived promptly next morning, trunk, doll, and all, expecting to plunge at once into an absorbing game of lady-come-to-see.
But Mary so impressed her with the honor that had been conferred upon them by Mr. Moore's special invitation to watch the tennis game that she was somewhat bewildered. She dutifully followed her resolute hostess to the tennis-court, and took a seat beside her with Evangeline clasped in her arms. Neither of the children had watched a game before, and Girlie, not being able to understand a single move, soon found it insufferably stupid. But Mary became more and more interested in watching a tall, athletic figure in outing flannels and white shoes, who swung his racket with the deftness of an expert, and who flashed an amused smile at her over the net occasionally, as if he understood the situation and was enjoying it with her.
Several times when Rob's playing brought him near the seat where the two children sat, he went into unaccountable roars of laughter, for which the amazed girls scolded him soundly, when he refused to explain. One time was when he overheard a sc.r.a.p of conversation. Girlie had suggested a return to the porch and the play-house, and Mary responded, graciously:
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”A TALL, ATHLETIC FIGURE IN OUTING FLANNELS”]
”Oh, we did all that yesterday morning, and I think that even in the matter of playing dolls one ought to be abstemious. Don't you? You know Arbuthnot says that 'instances of longevity are chiefly among the abstemious,' and I certainly want to be longevous.”
A startled expression crept into Girlie's pale blue eyes, but she only sat back farther on the seat and tightened her clasp on Evangeline. The next time Rob sauntered within hearing distance, a discussion of literature was in progress, Mary was asking:
”Have you ever read 'Old Curiosity Shop?'”
The flaxen curls shook slowly in the motion that betokened she had not.
”Nothing of d.i.c.kens or Scott or Irving or Cooper?”
Still the flaxen curls shook nothing but no.
”Then what have you read, may I ask?” The superior tone of Mary's question made it seem that she was twenty years older than the child at her side, instead of only two.
”I like the Dotty Dimple books,” finally admitted Girlie. ”Mamma read me all of them and several of the Prudy books, and I have read half of 'Flaxie Frizzle' my own self.”
”_Oh!_” exclaimed Mary, in a tone expressing enlightenment. ”I _see_!
Nothing but juvenile books! No wonder that, with such mental pabulum, you don't care for anything but dolls! Now when I was your age, I had read 'The Vicar of Wakefield' and 'Pride and Prejudice' and Leather-stocking Tales, and all sorts of things. Probably that is why I lost my taste for dolls so early. Wouldn't you like me to read to you awhile every morning?”
The offer was graciousness itself, but it implied such a lack on Girlie's part that she felt vaguely uncomfortable. She sat digging the toe of her slipper against the leg of the bench.
”I don't know,” she stammered finally. ”Maybe I can't come often. It makes me wigglesome to sit still too long and listen.”
”We might try it this morning to see how you like it,” persisted Mary.
”I brought a copy of Longfellow out from the house, and thought you might like to hear the poem of 'Evangeline,' as long as your doll is named that.”
Rob heard no more, for the game called him to another part of the court, but Mary's plan was a success. When the Dinsmore carriage came, Girlie announced that she wouldn't be over the next day, and maybe not the one after that. She didn't know for sure when she could come.
Rob stayed to lunch. As he pa.s.sed Mary on the steps, he stooped to the level of her ear to say in a laughing undertone: ”Congratulations, Miss Stork. I see your plan worked grandly.”
Elated by her success and the feeling of good-comrades.h.i.+p which this little secret with Rob gave her, Mary skipped up on to the porch, well pleased with herself. But the next instant there was a curious change in her feeling. Lloyd, tall and graceful in her becoming tennis suit, was standing on the steps taking leave of some of the players. With hospitable insistence she was urging them to stay to lunch, and there was something in the sweet graciousness of the young hostess that made Mary uncomfortable. She felt that she had been weighed in the balance and found wanting. The Princess never would have stooped to treat a guest as she had treated Girlie. Her standard of hospitality was too high to allow such a breach of hospitality.
Mary had carried her point, but she felt that if Lloyd knew how she had played stork, she would consider her ill-bred. The thought worried her for days.
CHAPTER VII.
THE COMING OF THE BRIDE
Early in the June morning Mary awoke, feeling as if it were Christmas or Fourth of July or some great gala occasion. She lay there a moment, trying to think what pleasant thing was about to happen. Then she remembered that it was the day on which the bride was to arrive. Not only that,--before the sun went down, the best man would be at The Locusts also.
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