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The Story of Wild Will Enderby

Chapter IV. The Play and the Players

page 91

Chapter IV. The Play and the Players.

Let us go back to the croquet party.

"Oh dear!" cried Annie, distressed, child-like, beyond measure at losing the game, "we must change partners, Will. You and Mrs. Melmoth are too many for us. Now, this shall be it, you and Mabel shall play against us two."

"Nonsense, Annie," said Will imperiously; "I prefer the present arrangement."

And, as he spoke, his eye sought that of Florence Melmoth, with such an eager expression, that she drooped the long silky lashes, softly murmuring, "So do I;" and, as Mabel marked the interchange of glances, the colour faded from her cheek, and she dropped the mallet and turned away; and, with an evident effort to appear quite unconcerned, she said,

"I don't care to play any more to-night."

But the irrepressible Annie was not to be so easily denied.

"Oh yes, do, Mabel! just one more game. Come, dear, take your mallet and begin." And Mabel yielded, and took the mallet, and began; but in a weary, mechanical way. Will, too, played carelessly—almost sulkily; and so Annie gained her heart's desire, winning the game easily.

page 92

"Oh! how jolly!" cried the girl, clapping her hands in gleeful delight. I knew we could beat you."

"Yes, Annie; I am no match for Mrs Melmoth."—Thus Mabel.

"Nor for Mr. Enderby either, I think," responded that lady.

Again her eyes met those of Will Enderby—again the silky lashes drooped—again Mabel paled. Then a cloud of conscious silence overshadowed the group.

Annie looked from one to another with amazement.

"What on earth is the matter with you all? Are you playing at cross-questions and crooked answers?

Just then the shrill whistle of the steam-engine was heard, and a moving wreath of smoke rising beyond trees in the direction of the City, indicated the approaching train.

"That's Papa's train;" shrieked Annie, and away she started to the gate to meet the expected comers. Mabel took the opportunity to disappear, leaving Will and Florence together on the lawn.

"Dear Mrs. Melmoth"—began Will.

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Mrs. Melmoth, in her grandest manner, "will you be good enough to collect the implements?"

And gathering her flowing robes about her, she swept past the young man with an air of utter nonchalance.

Presently entered Mr. Grey with his son Philip, a steady, well-trained young fellow, to whom the father looked with confidence to maintain the reputation of the firm in days to come. Annie danced around them rejoicingly, and a chorus of young voices shouted page 93'Welcome!' as they came up the lawn; and Mrs. Grey came smilingly into the verandah, and Wild Will stepped forward with alacrity to greet his Uncle.

It needed no seer to tell that John Grey was the idol of his family—the domestic divinity of the family altar.

"Good evening, mamma!"—this was an osculatory parenthesis—"Bless you all, dears! Ah! Tom, you rogue! keep your hands from picking and stealing. I'll empty my pockets by and bye. Take care, Nelly, or you'll tumble baby into the rose-bush. How dy'e do, Will? Bless me, how well you're looking. How's the run doing? I rather thought you'd have been busy mustering just now."

"No, Uncle, that's done. A capital muster we had too. We rounded up a mob of a hundred and thirty head, that have been running wild since they were steers, and had never been seen since."

"Ah! good! good! Well done, lad! How did you manage to get hold of them?"

"Why, you see, the drought has dried up the holes on the Parroquet Creek, and they had to come out into the open for water. So I and two or three of the hands laid in wait one night, and cut them out at sunrise, when they came down to drink. Such fun, Uncle! Ned Soames was charged by a wild bull, and got his horse gored badly. He'd have been gored himself to a dead certainty, only for his luck in being pitched into the tea-tree scrub, where the bull couldn't get at him."

"Fun, eh! Humph! Don't see the fun. But dinner's page 94waiting. Tell me all about it by and bye. Why, bless my soul! where's Mabel?"

Mabel was nowhere to be seen. Strange to tell, the question stayed the torrent of Will's loquacity.

There was no Mabel at the dinner table that evening. She had a bad headache, mamma reported. "All that nasty croquet," commented Annie. "We'll not play any more, Mrs. Melmoth."

"Certainly not, dear, unless you please. Young ladies should never play at games that harm them."

"Then why do you play," persisted this terrible child. "I'm sure you looked as if you were going to faint, once or twice to-day. Cousin Will noticed it, I know; for I saw him looking at you ever so. Didn't you, Will?"

Will, thus adjured, blushed violently,—he had a trick of blushing on occasions. Mrs Melmoth gazed curiously at Annie, sipped a little sherry-and-water; then, "Ah, yes! I felt rather warm."

And she shot a trenchant glance at Will Enderby, who forthwith commenced such a furious assault on the viands before him, that one might have supposed he had fasted for a month.

"Don't you think those heavy velvets unsuitable for the season?" asked Mrs. Grey.

"Perhaps so," said Mrs. Melmoth, indifferently. And the next morning she came down to breakfast arrayed in a daring yellow cambric, which made her complexion show more ravishingly fair than ever.

"How well that dress becomes you!" said Will admiringly.

"Thank you, Mr. Enderby. Now, a flatterer would page 95perhaps have said—how well the wearer becomes the dress."

And she smiled upon him—a soft bewildering smile—such as the fabled Syrens of old might have smiled, to lure the mariner to destruction.

"But, Mrs. Melmoth, you know what I mean."

"Yes; I think so." And the languishing eyes dwelt for a moment upon his. "I think so. But why not speak plainly. Hush! Good morning, Mabel. What a lovely day it promises to be."