A Bevy of Girls

horrid stain on it.I got it yesterday."

  "Our pink muslins are quite fresh; we look very nice in pink, and twodressed alike have always a good effect," was Ethel's suggestion.

  Accordingly the pink muslins were donned, the raffled but pretty hairwas put into immaculate order, and the girls, their hearts beating alittle, went downstairs to entertain their distinguished guest. Ofcourse, she was distinguished. But she was going to stay in theirhouse--she was to be with them for a whole long, beautiful night. Howlovely! They could look at her and study her, and furtively copy herlittle ways, her little graciousnesses, her easy manners, herpoliteness, which never descended to familiarity, and yet put peopleimmediately at their ease. And better still, they could talk to theirfriends about her and about what had occurred. When those upstart,disagreeable Carters came back, what a crow they would have over them.

  They were both in good spirits and forgot Nesta. Nesta was nothing buta trouble-the-house. She would turn up when she pleased. She deserveda sound whipping, and an early putting to bed; that was what shedeserved.

  Molly entered the room first; Ethel followed behind. Susan had lit alamp, and the drawing room looked fairly comfortable. Angela wasstanding by the open window. She turned when she saw the girls and cameforward to meet them.

  "We're so pleased and proud to know you," began Molly.

  "You are Molly, of course--or _are_ you Molly?" said Angela, glancingfrom one girl to the other.

  "We're awfully alike, you know," laughed Molly, "aren't we, Ethel? Yes,I am Molly, and this is Ethel. We're not twins, but there's only abouta year between us. We're very glad to know you. Have you heard muchabout us?"

  "Of course I have, from Marcia, my greatest friend." Molly's eyes werefixed in fascinated wonder and open admiration on her distinguishedguest. There was something intangible about Angela, something quiteimpossible to define; she was made for adoration; she was made for asort of worship. Girls could never feel about her in the ordinary way.These girls certainly did not. They looked at one another, and thenlooked back again at Angela.

  "Are you tired? Are you really going to stay the night here?" saidMolly at last.

  "I will sit down if you don't mind. No, I am not tired."

  "But you look so pale."

  "I am always pale; I never remember having a scrap of colour in mylife."

  "I think pale people look so interesting," said Ethel. "I wish Mollyand I were pale; but we flush up so when we are excited. I know I shallhave scarlet cheeks in a minute or two."

  "That is because we are so glad to see you," said Molly.

  "That is a very pretty compliment," laughed Angela. "But although I'mnot tired, I shouldn't mind going up to Marcia's room just to wash myhands and take my hat off."

  "We'll both take you," said Molly.

  They were immensely flattered; they were highly pleased. Angela ranupstairs as though she were another girl Aldworth, and had known theplace all her days. Marcia's room was immaculately neat, but it wasshabbily furnished; it was one of the poorest rooms in the house. Mollyearnestly wished that she could have introduced her guest into her ownroom.

  "I wonder," she said suddenly, "where you are going to sleep to-night?"

  "With Marcia; she said so."

  "Oh, but her bed is so small, you would not be comfortable. We'd beever so pleased if you--"

  "But I prefer to sleep with Marcia, and this room is quite nice."

  Molly ran to fetch hot water, and Ethel remembered that she had a silverbrush and comb which she always kept for visits which seldom occurred.She rushed away to fetch it. Angela brushed her hair, washed her hands,said that she felt as though she had been living with the Aldworths foryears, and ran downstairs again.

  "How nice you are," said Molly; "we don't feel now as though we wereafraid of you."

  "Afraid of me," said Angela. "Why should you be that?"

  "Only, somehow, you belong to a better set."

  "Please, don't talk nonsense," said Angela, with the first note ofwounded dignity in her voice. "I have come here to make myself useful.Can I be useful?"

  "It is so delightful to have you--"

  "That's not the point; can I be useful?"

  Molly looked puzzled.

  "We'll have supper presently," she said. "I'll go and speak to Susan.I'll be back in a minute."

  She turned away. Of course, Angela could not be useful--the merethought was profanation. She had come there to be waited on, to beworshipped, to be looked at, to be adored, Angela St Just, the mostbeautiful, the most aristocratic girl in the entire neighbourhood!

  Ethel drew nearer to Angela.

  "I have been at Court Prospect to-day," said Angela.

  "Why, that was your old place."

  "It was."

  "Did you find it much changed--_bourgeois_, and all that?" said Ethel.

  "Nothing could really change the old place to me; but I would rather nottalk of what the Carters have done."

  "I am sure it must have given you profound agony," said Ethel.

  Angela faintly coloured, and then she said:

  "Tell me about your little sister, the one about whom you are soanxious."

  "Oh, Nesta! Nesta's all right."

  "Then she has come back?"

  "No; she hasn't come back; we can't imagine where she is."

  "Then how can you say she is all right?"

  "She is always all right; she is the sort that turns up when you leastexpect her. She is not specially good," continued Ethel, who felt thatshe might revenge herself on Nesta's many slights by giving Angela aspoor an opinion of her as possible. She did not want Angela to likeNesta better than her. She had dim ideas of possible visits for herselfto Hurst Castle. Could she possibly manage the dress part? She wasintensely anxious now to lead the conversation away from Nesta to moreprofitable themes.

  "You must have a good many people staying at Hurst Castle," she said.

  "My uncle has some guests, naturally. But tell me about your sister.When did she go?"

  "I wish I could tell you. I don't know."

  "You don't know? But surely you can guess!"

  Molly came in at that moment. She had made a frantic effort to order asupper which would be proper to set before so distinguished a guest. Afowl had been hastily popped into the oven--that would be something.People in Angela's class, for all Molly knew to the contrary, lived onfowls.

  "Molly, when did we see Nesta last?" asked Ethel.

  "She was here at breakfast. I just saw her when she was rushing out ofthe room. I was rather late. Why do you ask?"

  "Miss St Just was anxious to know."

  "We are all troubled about your sister," said Angela.

  "Oh, I'm not troubled," said Molly.

  "Nor I," said Ethel.

  But Ethel was quick to read disapproval in Angela's soft eyes.

  "I suppose we ought to be," she said abruptly. "Do you think there isany danger?"

  She opened her eyes wide as she spoke.

  "I hope not; but, of course, she ought to be found. Then there is yourmother--the great thing is to keep your mother from fretting."

  "We have managed that, for Marcia, old Marcia--I mean _dear_ Marcia,--isso clever about mother."

  "She is clever about everything. I wonder if you know what a veryremarkable sister you have got." Marcia rose by leaps and bounds inboth the girls' estimation. If she was remarkable, and if Angela,beautiful, bewitching Angela, said so, then indeed there must besomething to be proud of, even in old Marcia. Ethel remembered how shehad nicknamed her Miss Mule Selfish, and a nervous desire to giggle tookpossession of her, but she suppressed it.

  "I wish I could tell you," said Angela, "all that Marcia has been to me;how she has helped me. And then she is such a wonderful teacher. Myaunt, Mrs Silchester, never ceases to lament her having left the schoolat Frankfort, I understand that she came here to help you girls."

  "Oh, no; she didn't," said Molly, her face becoming
crimson, "she camehome to look after mother."

  "You mean to help you to look after her, isn't that so?"

  "Yes, of course. Oh, dear Miss St Just, aren't you very tired? I knowyou are, even though you say in that pretty way that you are alwayspale, I know you are weary."

  "I'm all right, thank you; I really am."

  Just then Marcia entered the room.

  "Angela," she said, "we shall have supper presently, and afterwards youshall come up and see mother."

  "Oh, Marcia, do you think it well?" said Ethel, who looked very prettywith her flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

  "I should like to go," said Angela. "Do you think I should harm her?"

  No; it would be impossible for such a creature as Angela to harm anyone, even if that person were seriously ill; there was repose all overher, sweetness, tenderness, sympathy, where sympathy was possible. ButEthel and Molly, notwithstanding their efforts, did not feel that Angelatruly sympathised with them. The moment Marcia came in they began tosee this more clearly.

  "What are you doing about Nesta?" she said immediately.

  "If we don't know by nine o'clock, I must wire to father."

  It was just at that moment that there came a ring at the front door, asharp ring. Ethel felt her heart beating; Molly also turned first redand then pale.

  "That sounds like a telegram," said Molly, and she rushed into the hall.

  It was; it was addressed to Marcia Aldworth. She tore it open and readthe contents.

  "I'm all right; expect me when you see me. Nesta."

  There was no address; but it was plain that the telegram had been sentfrom Scarborough. Marcia sank on to the sofa. Molly bent over her;Ethel peered at the telegram from the other side.

  "There, didn't I say she was about the--"

  "Please, Angela, will you come with me into the next room?" said Marcia.

  She left the telegram for her two sisters to devour between them, andtook Angela away. The moment they were alone, Marcia sank down on achair; tears rose to her eyes--she did not know that they were there--one overflowed and rolled down her cheek. Angela looked at hersteadily.

  "It is quite hopeless," she said. "Think of her doing that!"

  "Doing what? Remember I have not seen the telegram."

  "She says she is all right, and we are to expect her when we see her.She has gone to Scarborough; she has run away. She is with theGriffiths, of course. What is to be done with a girl of that sort?"

  "Marcia, you are wearing yourself out for them."

  "I am, and it is hopeless. What am I to say to mother? How am I to putit to her?"

  "You must tell her that Nesta will not be back until the morning; thatshe is quite safe. In the morning you must tell her the truth."

  "How can I possibly tell her the truth?"

  "You must."

  "Oh, Angela! it is hopeless; those girls seem to have no hearts. I didthink after mother was so ill that they had turned over a new leaf; Iwas full of hope, and Nesta seemed the most impressed; but see what thismeans. She has gone away; she has left us all in misery. What a day wehave had! and now, at the eleventh hour, when she thought we could notpossibly send for her, she sends this. What am I to do?"

  "You must just go on hoping and praying, and trusting and believing,"said Angela. "My dear Marcia, twenty things ought not to shake a faithlike yours."

  "Well, at any rate, she is not in bodily danger; but what a terriblerevelation of her character! She must have planned all this. She knewthat father was away, and that Horace was away, and she fully expectedthat I should also be away. She had a kind of vague hope that the girlswould not open the telegram. You see how she has laid her plans. Sheknows in the end she must be recalled, but she is determined to have asmuch pleasure as she can."

  "Marcia," said Molly, putting in her head at that moment, "supper isready. Shall we go in?"

  They went into the dining-room. Angela ate little; she did not perceivethe efforts the two younger Aldworths had made in her honour; thepresence of the best dinner service, the best glass, the fact that thecoffee--real Mocha coffee--was served in real Sevres china. She atelittle, thinking all the time of Marcia, who was as unobservant ofexternal things as her friend.

  "Now, you will come up to see mother," said Marcia, when the meal wasover.

  "Yes; let me. I will tell her about Nesta--I mean as much as she needknow to-night."

  Marcia took her friend upstairs. Mrs Aldworth was tired. Her day hadnot been satisfactory, and she still wanted that one thing which shecould not get--the presence of her round, fair, apparently good-naturedyoungest daughter. When Marcia opened the door, she called out to her:

  "Dear me, Marcia! I thought you were going?"

  "No, mother; I am not going to-night."

  "Has Nesta come back? We should have plenty of time, if you light thatpretty lamp and put it near me, to try the effect of the new blouse. Iam so anxious to see if it will fit."

  "I have just got an account of Nesta; she is all right, mother; she willbe back to-morrow," said Marcia. "So I am going to stay with you; and,mother, may I introduce you to my friend, Angela St Just? Angela, thisway, please. Mother, this is Angela, my great friend." Mrs Aldworthhad been on the eve of crying; on the eve of a fit of nervous anxietywith regard to Nesta; but the appearance of Angela seemed to swallow upevery other thought. She flushed, then turned pale, then held out herhand.

  "I am glad to see you," she said.

  Angela dropped into a chair.

  "Just run away, Marcia," she said. "Leave me with Mrs Aldworth. Oh,Mrs Aldworth, I'm so glad Marcia let me come in. I have been longingto come to you--often and often. I have been so sorry for you; I havebeen thinking what a weary time you must have; I hope you will let mecome often as long as I am near; I should like it so much."

  The sweet eyes looked down into the faded face of the elder woman. Theyseemed somehow to have a magical power to arrest the finger of time, toerase the wrinkles, to smooth out some of the constant pain. MrsAldworth smiled quite gladly.

  "How nice you are," she said, "and not a bit--not a bit stuck-up. I amso glad to make your acquaintance. Sit there and talk to me."

  Angela took a chair and she did talk--all about nothings, _perhaps_about nothings; but she still talked and Mrs Aldworth listened.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

  AN UNEASY CONSCIENCE.

  Nesta's first day at Scarborough had been full of intense enjoyment.She had managed her escapade with great cleverness. The Griffiths werequite sure that she was going away with the consent of her parents. MrGriffiths was kind, and pleased to have her; Mrs Griffiths wasmotherly; Flossie was all delight. First had come the journey; what adelicious sensation of excitement had she felt whenever the trainstopped; with what more than a delicious sensation of importance she hadowned to a thrill through her being at the thought that the others wereanxious about her. That her own people would be trying to get her backas soon as possible but added to the sense of enjoyment.

  The day was a brilliant one; the sea breezes were exhilarating, andNesta's conscience did not awaken. She enjoyed the lodgings, and theroom she was to share with Flossie, and the shrimps for tea, and thewading when the tide was down. She enjoyed listening to the band; inshort, she enjoyed everything. Her constant smiles were alwayswreathing her lips; Mr and Mrs Griffiths thought her quite adelightful girl.

  So passed the first day. Nesta had even managed, with Flossie's aid, tosend a telegram without either Mr or Mrs Griffiths knowing anythingabout it. Those magical shillings, which had been produced by heryellow-boy, were so useful. She went to bed that night without anyunpleasant telegram, or any unpleasant person coming from Newcastle todisturb her pleasure.

  But the next morning she woke with a sigh. It would be all over to-day;she could not expect it to last longer than the middle of the day.Pleasure would be followed by retribution. She had made up her mind tothis. She thought, however, that she would have a
good morning.Immediately after breakfast she got away with Flossie.

  "Floss, it will be all up to-day; they are quite certain to send for me.Even if Molly and Ethel did not open the telegram last night, they willat least send it on to old Marcia, and do you suppose that Miss MuleSelfish will not use every bit of her influence to get me back, and tohave me well punished? There's no doubt on that point whatever."

  "I know all that," said Flossie. "But, perhaps, they won't want youback."

  "Not want me back?" said Nesta.

  This comment, delightful as it sounded, was scarcely flattering.

  "Mothery will want me," said Nesta.

  "If you thought that, I wonder you came."

  "Oh, don't begin to reproach me," said Nesta. "Let us go and have along, long morning all by ourselves."

  "But I want to bathe. Mother is going to bathe, and she said we twocould go with her. You didn't, of course, bring a bathing dress, but wecan hire them here."

  Nesta was not inclined to bathe. It would, she protested, take up toomuch time. She wanted to go for a long walk alone with her friend. Shesuggested that they should go first of all to a pastrycook's, supplythemselves with a good, large bag of edibles,