yet deferential way, which somehow gratified her, simple andun-self-conscious as she was.
"He is such a rattle of a young fellow," she said to herself; "I wonderhe remembers having met me before."
"When _will_ Hebe be ready?" said Lady Marth, with a sort of softcomplaint, as if she had been kept waiting for hours. "Does she need togo on talking confidentially to all those bakers' and brewers' daughterswhom she is so fond of?--Can't you give her a hint to be quick, Rosy?"
She half turned, laying her hand on what she supposed to be MissMilward's arm; but, somehow, Rosy had moved away. The arm Lady Marthactually touched was Blanche's.
Blanche started. She had been watching Archie.
"Can I--" she began; but before she had time to say more, Lady Marthdrew herself back.
"Where _is_ Rosy?" she said haughtily. "I thought--I thought themeeting was over, and that we were only ourselves. I really must go,"and she stood up, drawing her cloak, which had partly slipped off, moreclosely round her shoulders.
Mr Dunstans face grew stern, all the boyishness died out of it, and helooked ten years older.
"Miss Derwent," he said, in a peculiarly clear and most respectful tone,"I do beg your pardon. I did not notice till this moment that you werestanding. If you are going, Lady Marth, you will allow me to move yourchair," and, as he spoke, he drew it forward a little.
Lady Marth gave him an icy glance over her shoulder, and moved away.Blanche simply accepted the courtesy.
"I want to go too," she said quietly; "but I must see Lady Hebe for onemoment, first."
"Don't hurry," said Mr Dunstan; "she is saying good-bye to those girlsnow, and she is looking towards you. It will do Lady Marth good to bekept waiting for once, so pray be as deliberate as you like. No oneasked her to come here, unless--unless, indeed, I did so myself. Idon't--She is quite odious, sometimes," he went on, disconnectedly,looking, for once, _not_ equal to the occasion.
Blanche lifted her serene eyes to his face.
"Did you think she was rude to me?" she said. "Please don't mind. Shedoes not know me, or anything about me, so what does it matter? Ishould mind if any one I knew or cared about was disagreeable or unkind;but when it is a perfect stranger it is quite different."
The young man looked at her with a mixture of admiration and perplexity.Had she not taken in the covert impertinence of Lady Marth's speech?
He smiled a little as he replied. "You are very philosophical and verysensible, Miss Derwent," he said. "But still, I am afraid you mustthink English people have very bad manners."
"I have not seen many; I can scarcely judge," she said. "But I shouldnot like to say so. I think Lady Hebe and that old lady, Mrs Selwyn,and Mrs Harrowby--oh, and others I could name--have charming manners."
"Why don't you include my aunt--by marriage only--at Alderwood?" he saidmaliciously.
Blanche laughed a little.
"Some people can't help being awkward, I suppose," she said. "She meansto be kind, I think."
Archie's face brightened.
"Now you are better than sensible," he said eagerly--"you are truly kindand charitable. And you are not mistaken. My aunt does mean to bekind, so far as she can understand it. A great many ugly things in thisworld come from ignorance, after all."
"And from want of imagination," said Blanche, thoughtfully. "Want ofpower to put one's self in the place of another."
She was beginning to think there was more in this young man, who hadstruck her at first as a mere boyish rattle; she was beginning to have atouch of the delightful suspicion that he was one who would "understand"her; and her face grew luminous, and her sweet eyes brighter, as shespoke.
He glanced at her again, with a smile in which there was nodisappointment for her.
"Yes, I often think so; I have come to think so. But you are very youngto have made such a discovery."
Blanche could scarcely help laughing at his tone, she had so completelymade up her mind that he was little, if any, older than she.
"Why," she began, "I cannot be much--" But here she suddenly caughtsight of Stasy's face looking across at her with a sort of indignantappeal.
"Do come away, Blanchie," it seemed to say.
"Something has rubbed her the wrong way," thought Blanche, and she movedforward at once. "I think my sister wants me," she said, with a littlemovement of the head, as if in farewell.
Archie Dunstan followed her with his eyes; but he was not long left inpeace.
"Can't _you_ get Hebe to come away?" said Lady Marth, in a tone thatvery little more would have rendered querulous. "Rosy has gone now.Everybody has gone. You are as bad as Hebe, Archie. What on earthcould you find to talk to that Miss Wandle, or Bracy, or whoever shewas, about?"
"She was neither a Miss Wandle nor a Miss Bracy, Lady Marth," said MrDunstan. "I thought you had more discernment," and he calmly walkedaway, entirely disregarding her request that he would summon Hebe.
Lady Marth was angry. She had known that the girl he was talking to was_not_ one of the Pinnerton Green tradespeople's daughters, and she hadhad a strong suspicion that she _was_ Miss Derwent. But, of course, shewas not going to allow this. She had taken one of her violent andunreasonable prejudices to the Derwents, whom she knew almost nothingabout, and would not have felt the slightest interest in, had she notfound out that Hebe had come across them, and meant or wished to be kindto them. And she was really very much attached to Hebe, and cared forher good opinion. It annoyed her that she had not been herself appealedto by her husband's ward in the matter, little sympathy though she wouldhave felt about it, as what she called "one of Hebe's fads."
Perhaps, on the whole, it had been a mistake on the girl's part not tohave made an effort to enlist Lady Marth's interest in the Derwents.But she had been afraid to do so, knowing by experience howextraordinarily disagreeable "Josephine" could be to any one sheconsidered beneath her. Still, her reticence had aroused deeperprejudice on Lady Marth's side than need have been drawn out; and MrDunstan's manner and tone increased it.
Blanche made her way somewhat anxiously to Stasy.
"Do let us go," said the younger girl in a half-whisper. "I am suremamma will be wondering why we are so long," she added in a louder tone,for Mrs Harrowby's benefit.
"I was only waiting because Lady Hebe wanted to say something to me,"said Blanche; and Hebe, who had said good-bye by this time to MissWandle and her cousin, came hurrying up.
"I won't keep you any longer just now," she said, for she had aninstinctive dread of Lady Marth; "I am so sorry. Just tell me this--canyou meet me here alone some afternoon to look over the account-books, sothat it may all be quite clear to you?"
Blanche hesitated. Why should they meet "here?" She could understandHebe's not asking her to go to East Moddersham, considering that LadyMarth had not seen fit to call upon Mrs Derwent, but why should not Hebeoffer to come to Pinnerton Lodge herself? She glanced up. Hebe wasslightly flushed, her lips were parted, and she seemed a little anxious.The expression was new to Blanche on that usually untroubled face, andit touched her. Blanche's dignity was too simple and true for her tothink much about what was "due" to it.
"Yes," she said, "I can easily do so."
"Oh, thank you," said Hebe in a tone of relief.
Then a day and hour were rapidly decided upon, and in another minute ortwo the sisters found themselves outside the vicarage, on their wayhome, after saying good-bye to Mrs Harrowby, cordially on Blanche'spart, most cordially on that of the vicar's wife, somewhat stiffly onStasys. Mr Dunstan held the door open for them as they passed out, andhis markedly deferential bow somewhat smoothed the younger girl'sruffled plumage.
"_That_ man knows how to behave like a gentleman," she said. "Who ishe, Blanchie? Have you seen him before?"
"Yes," said Blanche; "he was at Alderwood the afternoon mamma and Icalled there. I thought he was quite a boy--he looks very young--butI'm not sure about it now. Something in his way of speaking and hismanner altogether mak
e me think that perhaps he is older than he looks."
Stasy listened with interest.
"I like him," she said decidedly, and for the moment Blanche forgot theexpression on her sister's face which had made her hasten theleave-taking.
"What was the matter, Stasy?" she asked, when it recurred to her. "Whydid you look so vexed and uncomfortable?"
"Uncomfortable!" repeated Stasy. "Oh dear, no. I am not afraid of anyof those people. They _couldn't_ make me uncomfortable. I was