And Jeremy,bumping along in the jingle,also felt the contrast.Why could not Mary wear her straw hat straight,and why must she have elastic under her chin?Why did she look so cross and so stupid?Why did she bother him so with her worries?Charlotte would never worry him.She would just sit there,looking beautiful,with her golden hair,and blue eyes and pink cheeks.Next week was to be Miss Jones's birthday,and in preparation for this he had bought for her in Polchester a silver thimble.He wondered whether he would not give Charlotte this thimble instead of Miss Jones.He could give Miss Jones some old thing he would find somewhere,or he would go out and pick for her some flowers.She would be pleased with anything.He wondered what Charlotte would say when he gave her the thimble.She would like it,of course.She would smile.She would open her eyes and look at him.Fortunately he had the thimble even now in his pocket.He had bought it when he was wearing this same suit.Yes,he would give it to her.As he decided this he looked at Miss Jones guiltily,but she was making such odd faces as she squinted to escape from the sun that he did not feel ashamed.
They came to that steep hill just beyond Garth woods,and Bob,of course,refused to move.The superb Le Page affair dashed past them,shouted something at them,and disappeared over the brow of the hill.The last thing to be seen of them were the fierce despairing eyes of the imprisoned Mary.A strange sensation of relief instantly settled upon the Coles.For a moment they were alone;they began slowly to walk up the hill,dragging with them the reluctant Bob.
About them was peace,absolute and unstained.The hard glitter of the day shone upon the white road,but behind them the wood was dark and cool,a green cloud against the sky.Behind the steep hedges the harvesters were moving.In the air a lark was singing,and along the ditch at the road side a tiny stream tumbled.And beyond these sounds there was a vast tranquil silence.
The Coles moved up the hill very slowly,only Hamlet racing ahead to find spots of shadow where he might lie down and pant.They would not confess to themselves that this promised to be the happiest moment of their day.They went bravely forward.
On the bend of the hill the Le Pages were waiting for them.What Mrs.Cole had foreseen had in truth occurred.The Le Page carriage would not go down the Rafiel Lane.No,it would,not.Nothing would induce it to.
"James,"said Mrs.Le Page to her stout and disdainful attendant.
"Nothing,ma'am,"said James.
"Dear me,dear me,"said Mrs.Le Page."Well then,we must walk,"said the deep despairing voice of the Pirate King.
And walk they did.
That walk was,as Mrs.Cole afterwards said,"a pity,"because it destroyed the Le Page tempers when the day was scarcely begun.Mr.
Le Page was,it was quickly descried,not intended for walking.
Strong and fierce though he seemed,heat instantly crumpled him up.
The perfect crease of his white trousers vanished,his collar was no longer spotless,little beads of perspiration appeared almost at once on his forehead,and his black beard dripped moisture.Mrs.Le Page,with her skirts raised,walked as though she were passing through the Valley of Destruction;every step was a risk and a danger,and the difficulty of holding her skirts and her sunshade at the same time,and of seeing that her shoes were not soiled and her hat not caught by an offending bough gave her face an expression of desperate despair.
There was,unfortunately,one spot very deep down in the lane where the ground was never dry even in the height of the hottest summer.
A little stream ran here across the path,and the ground on either side was soft and sodden.Mrs.Le Page,struggling to avoid an overhanging branch,stepped into the mud;one foot stuck there,and it needed Mr.Cole's strong arm to pull her out of it.
"Charlotte!Charlotte!"she cried."Don't let Charlotte step into that!Mr.Cole!Mr.Cole!I charge you--my child!"Charlotte was conveyed across,but the damage was done.One of Mrs.Le Page's beautiful shoes was thick with mud.
When,therefore,the party,climbing out of the Lane,came suddenly upon the path leading down to the Cove,with the sea,like a blue cloud in front of them,no one exclaimed at the view.It was a very beautiful view--one of the finest of its kind in the United Kingdom,the high rocks closing in the Cove and the green hills closing in the rocks.On the hill to the right was the Rafiel Old Church,with its graveyard that ran to the very edge of the cliff,and behind the Cove was a stream and a green orchard and a little wood.The sand of the Cove was bright gold,and the low rocks to either side of it were a dark red--the handsomest place in the world,with the water so clear that you could see down,far down,into green caverns laced with silver sand.Unfortunately,at the moment when the Coles and their friends beheld it,it was blazing in the sun;soon the sun would pass and,during the whole afternoon,half of it at least would lie in shadow,but the Le Pages could not be expected to think of that.
The basket was unloaded from the jingle and carried down to the beach by Mr.Cole and Jim.Jeremy,finding himself at the side of the lovely Charlotte,was convulsed with shyness,the more that he knew that the unhappy Mary was listening with jealous ears.
Charlotte,walking like Agag,"delicately,"had a piteous expression in her eyes as though she were being led to the torture.
Jeremy coughed and began:"We always come here every year.Don't you like it?""Yes,"she said miserably.
"And we paddle and bathe.Do you like bathing?""Going into the sea?"
"Yes."
"Oh,no!Mother says I mustn't,because it'll hurt my hair.Do you like my hair?""Yes,"said Jeremy,blushing at so direct an invitation to compliment.
"Mother says I've got to be very careful of my hair because it's my chief beauty.""Yes,"said Jeremy.
