chat withJim."
"You can go," said Mrs Aldworth. "I would not stand in your way foranything. It's all right."
The sun was pouring in at the window. Mrs Aldworth's head was hot, herfeet were cold; her fancy work had fallen to the ground; all her workingmaterials were scattered here, there and everywhere, but she ratherhugged her own sense of discomfort.
"Go, dear, go," she said, speaking as gently as she could, and closingher eyes.
"You'd like to have a nap, wouldn't you?" said Molly, her facebrightening. "I'll put this shawl over your feet."
"No, thank you, I'm too hot."
The shawl was wrenched with some force from Molly's hand.
"Oh, mothery, don't get into a temper. You are not really vexed withyour Molly, are you? I'll be up again soon. I will, really."
"Go," said the weak, querulous voice, and Molly went.
"Is she all right?" asked Ethel when Molly rushed down to thesummerhouse.
"Oh, yes," said Molly in a cheerful tone. "She is going to sleep."
"To sleep?" said Ethel in astonishment.
"Yes, she didn't wish me to stay. Dear old mother, she is so unselfish.I made her very comfy and I'll go back again presently. Now, I canlook after you; I'm going to help you. Sit down there, Ethel, and letme pour out the tea. Fie, Ethel, you have not given Jim anything."
But for some reason Jim had darted a glance into Molly's eyes, and Mollythought she read disapproval in it. It seemed to her that he did notquite approve of her. But she could not long entertain that feeling,for she was always satisfied with herself. In a few minutes the wholefive were laughing and talking, playing games, passing jests backwardsand forwards as though there were no invalid mother in the world, noduties in the world to be performed, no naughty Nesta not very far off.
"Now," said Clara, "we must be trotting home, and you may as well walkback with us."
"Are you certain you can be spared?" said Jim.
"Yes, I'm positive," said Molly; "but to make sure I'll go in and seeSusan."
Molly went into the house; but she did not go to Susan. She would betoo much afraid to inquire of Susan, who, with all her good nature,could be cross enough at times, that is, when she thoroughly disapprovedof the young ladies' racketings, as she called them.
What Molly really did was to slip up to her own bedroom, put on her mostbecoming hat, catch up her white parasol, take up a similar parasol andhat for Ethel, with a pair of gloves for each, and rush swiftlydownstairs. No one heard her enter the house, and no one heard her godownstairs again.
"Thanks," said Ethel, when she saw her hat with its accompanying pins,observed the parasol, and welcomed the gloves. "Is mother all right?"she said.
"Yes, she is having a lovely sleep. Now do let us come along."
"You may as well stay and have a game of tennis," said Jim, who afterMolly's return to the house concluded that things must be all right.
"Yes, that would be splendid," said Clara, "and you could stay to supperif you liked."
How very nearly had that delightful afternoon been spoiled. This wasMolly's thought; but it was the mother herself who had saved it. Thedear little mother who wouldn't like her children to be put out. And ofcourse she was in such a lovely sleep. That queer attack she had hadwhen Molly was in the room! But Molly would not let herself think ofthat. Mother was queer now and then, and sometimes the doctor had to besent for in a hurry; but it was nothing serious. All mother's attackswere just nervous storms, so the doctor called them. Signs of weakness,was Molly's explanation. Oh, yes, the attack was nothing, nothing atall, and what a splendid time she and Ethel were having.
CHAPTER NINE.
THE TRUTH ABOUT MRS ALDWORTH.
When Marcia left the train at Hurst Castle station she was greeted by, atall, very slender girl who was waiting on the platform to receive her.The girl had a sufficiently remarkable face to attract the attention ofeach person who saw her. It was never known in her short life that anyone passed Angela St Just without turning to look at her. Most peoplelooked again after that first glance, but every one, man, woman, andchild, bestowed at least one glance at that most radiant, most lovelyface. It was difficult to describe Angela, for hers was not the beautyof mere feature; it was the beauty of a very loving, loyal, and noblesoul which seemed, in some sort of way, to have got very close to herbody, so close that its rays were always shining out. It shone in hereyes, causing them to have a peculiar limpid light, the sort of lightwhich has been described as "Never seen on land or shore," and the samespirit caused those smiles round the girl's beautiful lips, and thekindly words which dropped from her mouth when she spoke, and thesympathy in her manner. For the rest, she was graceful with anabundance of chestnut hair, neatly formed and yet unremarkable featuresand a creamy white complexion. Her eyebrows were delicately formed,being long and sweeping, and slightly arched. Her eyes were also long,almost almond-shaped, of a soft and yet bright hazel. Her eyelasheswere very thick and very dark, making the hazel eyes look almost blackat a distance. The girl had all the advantages which a long train ofnoble ancestors could bestow upon her. Her education had been attendedto in the most thorough manner, and now at the age of sixteen and ahalf, there could scarcely be seen a more perfect young creature thanAngela St Just.
"Oh, Angela," said Marcia, as she found her hand clasped in that ofAngela, "this is good. I have just been longing to see you."
"And I to see you, Marcia. The carriage is waiting--I don't mean theordinary stiff carriage, but the pony trap. Uncle Herbert has lent itto me for the whole afternoon, and there are some delightful woods justa little way out of the town, where we can drive and have a picnic tea.I have brought all the materials for it in a basket in the little ponytrap."
Marcia naturally acceded to this delightful proposition, and the girlswere soon driving rapidly over the country roads.
Marcia almost wondered as she leant back in the luxurious littlecarriage and watched her young companion, whether she were in a dream ornot. This morning she had been a member of the Aldworths' untidy,disorderly house. She herself was the one spirit of order within it.Now she was by Angela's side, she was close to the most beautifulcreature she had ever met, or ever hoped to meet.
Angela was not one to talk very much, but once or twice she glanced ather companion. The sweetest smile just broke the lines of her mouth andthen vanished, leaving it grave once more.
They entered the shade of the woods, and presently drew up under awide-spreading oak tree. The woods near Hurst Castle were celebrated,having once been part of the ancient forest which at one time coveredthe greater part of England. Here were oaks of matchless size, and ofenormous circumference; here were beech trees which looked as thoughthey formed the pillars and the roof of a great cathedral; here weregraceful ladies of the forest, with their silvery stems and theirslender leaves. Here, also, were the denizens of the woods--birds,rabbits, hares, butterflies innumerable. Marcia gave a sigh.
"What is the matter?" said Angela at once.
"Oh, it is so good, so beautiful, but I can spend such a short time withyou."
"I was determined to come all alone, and I wouldn't even let Bob driveme. He was quite disappointed; but I managed the ponies splendidly.Here, we will just fasten them to this tree. Now, darlings, you will beas good as gold, won't you? Jeanette, don't eat your head off. Oh,yes, you must have a little bit of this tender young furze to nibble.Coquette, behave yourself, dear." She lightly pressed a kiss on theforehead of both of her pets, and then taking out the tea basket placedit under the tree.
Two other girls were having tea at that moment in another wood not veryfar away; but Marcia, luckily for her peace of mind, knew nothing ofthat. When the meal was half over, Angela turned to her companion.
"Now, I want to hear all about it."
"About what, Angela?"
"Oh, you know--why you suddenly left Aunt Emily; why you gave up theschool where you were doing such wonderful things, and influen
cing thegirls so magnificently. What does it all mean? You often told me thatyou were not wanted at home."
"And I thought so; God forgive me; I was wrong."
"Well, tell me."
"Angela, you know quite well how often you have advocated our direct andinstant obedience to the call of duty."
"I certainly have--I often wish duty would call me. I have such an easylife. I long to do something great."
"Well, I will tell you all about myself."
Marcia did give it resume of what had just happened.
"The girls are dreadful at present," she said. "They are--it's the trueword for them, Angela, I