Impossible to imagine with what life and fire old Miss Henhouse gave this history.You could see with your own eyes the golden ship,the diamond buckles of the Scarlet Admiral,the young man's sad eyes,the parson's black clothes.When she had finished it seemed to Jeremy that it must have been just so.She told him that now on a summer morning or evening the Scarlet Admiral might still be seen,climbing the cliff-path,wiping his sword upon the grass,gazing out with sad eyes to sea.Jeremy swore to himself that on the next occasion of visiting the Cove he would watch .he would watch-but to no single human being would he speak anything of this.
This was the second reason why he had looked forward so eagerly to the sea-picnic.
III
The day arrived,and it was marvellously fine--one of those days in August when heat possesses the world and holds it tranced and still,but has in the very strength of its possession some scent of the decay and chill of autumn that is to follow so close upon its heels.
There was no breeze,no wind from the sea,only a sky utterly without cloud and a world without sound.
Punctually at eleven of the morning the splendid Le Page equipage arrived at Cow Farm.Splendid it was!A large wagonette,with a stout supercilious fellow on the box who sniffed at the healthy odours of the farm and stared haughtily at Mrs.Monk as though she should be ashamed to be alive.The Coles had provided a small plump "jingle"with a small plump pony,their regular conveyance;the pony was Bob,and he would not go up hills unless persuaded with sugar,but Jeremy loved him and would not have ridden behind any other steed in the whole world.How contemptuously the big black horses of the wagonette gazed down their nostrils at Bob,and how superbly Mrs.Le Page,sitting very upright under her white sunshade,greeted Mrs.Cole!
"Dear Mrs.Cole.Such a hot morning,isn't it?Lovely,of course,but so hot.""I'm afraid,"Jeremy heard his mother say,"that your carriage will never get down the Rafiel Lane,Mrs.Le Page.We hoped you'd come in the dog-cart.Plenty of room."Superb to witness the fashion in which Mrs.Le Page gazed at the dog-cart.
"For all of us?Dear Mrs.Cole,I scarcely think--And Charlotte's frock ."Then Jeremy turned his eyes to Charlotte.She sat under a miniature sunshade of white silk and lace,a vision of loveliness.She was a shimmer of white,a little white cloud that had settled for a moment upon the seat of the carriage to allow the sun to dance upon it,to caress it with fingers of fire,so to separate it from the rest of the world for ever as something too precious to be touched.Jeremy had never seen anything so lovely.
He blushed and scraped his boots the one against the other.
"And this is Jeremy?"said Mrs.Le Page as though she said:"And this is where you keep your little pigs,Mr.Monk?""Yes,"said Jeremy,blushing.
"Charlotte,you know Jeremy.You must be friends.""Yes,"said Charlotte,without moving.Then Jeremy tumbled into the stern gaze of Mr.Le Page who,arrayed as he was in a very smart suit of the whitest flannels,looked with his black beard and fierce black eyebrows like a pirate king disguised.
"How are you ?"said Mr.Le Page in a deep bass voice.
"Very well,thank you,"said Jeremy.
To tell the truth,Mrs.Cole's heart sadly misgave her when she saw the Le Page family all sitting up so new and so bright in their new and bright carriage.She thought of the simple preparations that had been made--the pasties,the saffron buns and the ginger beer;she looked around her at the very plain but useful garments worn by her family,her husband in faded grey flannel trousers and a cricketing shirt,Helen and Mary in the simplest blue cotton,and Jeremy in his two-year-old sailor suit.She had intended to bring their bathing things in a bundle,but now she put them aside.It was obvious that the Le Pages had no intention of bathing.She sighed and foresaw a difficult day ahead of her.
It was evident that the Le Pages did not intend to come one step farther into Cow Farm than was necessary.
"Dear Mrs.Cole,on a hot day--how can you endure the smells of a farm .such a charming farm,too,with all its cows and pigs,but in this weather.Charlotte darling,you don't feel the heat?
No?Hold your sun-shade a little more to the right,love.That's right.She was not quite the thing last night,Mrs.Cole.I had some doubts about bringing her,but I knew you'd all be so disappointed.
She's looking rather lovely to-day,don't you think?You must forgive a mother's partiality.Oh,you're not bringing that little dog,are you?Surely--"Jeremy,who had from the first hated Mrs.Le Page,forgot his shyness and brought out fiercely:
"Of course he's coming.Hamlet always goes everywhere with us.""Hamlet!"said Mr.Le Page in his deep bass voice.
"What a strange name for a dog!"said Mrs.Le Page in tones of vague distrust.
At last it was settled that one member of the Cole party should ride with the Le Pages,and Mary was selected.Poor Mary!inevitably chosen when something unpleasant must be done.To-day it was especially hard for her,because she entertained so implacable a hatred for the lovely Charlotte and looked,it must be confessed,so plain and shabby by the side of her.Indeed,to any observer with a heart it must have been touching to see Mary driven away in that magnificent black carriage,staring with agonised hostility in front of her through her large spectacles,compelled to balance herself exactly between the magnificent sunshade of Mrs.Le Page and the smaller but also magnificent sunshade of the lovely Charlotte.Mrs.
Cole,glancing in that direction,may have felt with a pang that she would never be able to make her children handsome and gay as she would like to do--but it was certainly a pang of only a moment's duration.
She would not have exchanged her Mary for a wagon-load of Charlottes.
