"Nonsense! I'm as strong as a horse. Who waits is lost. To the right, please, General. Straight down this path, and into the herbaceous garden. _Quite_ slowly, and keep a sharp eye between the branches."

He quite chuckled with delight. Viewed from the vantage ground of a bath-chair, a Treasure Hunt was delirious excitement, but he _was_ heavy! I remembered a sharp upward curve some way further on, and had a vision of myself pushing, with arms extended to full length, and feet at a considerable distance between the arms, as I have seen small nursemaids push pram-loads of fat twins. How undignified it would be if I slipped half-way, and the chair backed over my p.r.o.ne body! Then, of course, the thing happened which I might have been sure and certain _would_ happen under the circ.u.mstances. We came face to face with Mr Maplestone, and the General called out:--

"Hi, Ralph! There you are. Just the man we want. Miss Wastneys and I are hunting. Come and give a hand."

"Oh, if you have the Squire, you won't need me. I'll go off on my own,"

I cried quickly; but it was no use, the old man wanted both, and both he would have. The Squire was to push behind; I was to take the handle and pull in front; he himself must be free to hunt, since he was handicapped by old eyes. He issued orders with the a.s.surance of a Commander-in-Chief, and we listened and obeyed.

I started by feeling annoyed and impatient, but honestly, after the first few minutes, it was great fun. The Squire was an abominable pusher; first he pushed too little and left all the work to me; and then, being upbraided, he pushed too hard and tilted me into a run; then we changed places, and he took the wrong turnings, wheeled past plain gra.s.s beds where nothing could possibly be hidden; then we _both_ took the back, and the General peered from side to side, and saw nothing, and grew discouraged, and sighed, and said his luck had gone. No treasures for him any more!

I will say for Ralph Maplestone that he is sweet to that old man! He treats him just in the right way, as deferentially as though he were in full health and strength, a martial figure riding gloriously to conquest! We cheered him up between us (I did it rather nicely, too!) and became quite friendly in the process. Two people can't join in pushing a bath-chair and remain _de haut en bas_. The thing is impossible. I was most nice to Ralph Maplestone, and he appeared to be nice to me.

Suddenly, in the middle of a bush, I saw a glint of brighter green, the tissue-paper wrapping of a treasure, and instantly my fingers gripped the chair. Mr Maplestone would have pushed on, but I frowned and grimaced, and he looked and saw too, and we both puffed and panted, and demanded a rest, during which I stood elaborately at one side of the bush, and he stood at the other, so that the old dear could hardly miss seeing the paper.

Even then I had to give, it a surrept.i.tious push before discovery came; but he had no suspicions, not one, and was as pleased as a boy at the thought that his old eyes had been sharper than our young ones. We all took a turn at opening the parcel, and it turned out to be a vanity bag, fitted with a mirror and other frivolities, so of course it was presented to me, and I arranged my hair in the mirror, and powdered my nose with the puff, just to shock them, which, by the way, it fully succeeded in doing.

"Girls didn't do that in my day!" croaked the General.

"_All_ girls don't do it now!" grunted the Squire.

"My dear, you look far nicer without it." This was the General's second venture. I turned to the Squire and asked solemnly, "_Do_ I?" and he gave one quick look, and then stared past me--through me--blankly into s.p.a.ce.

"I am no judge," he said curtly.

Well, let me be honest! It _was_ flirtatious of me, I knew it was, and hurried to rub off the powder, and get back to my briskest, most business-like manner. As we had paid three entrance fees, we were ent.i.tled to a treasure apiece, if we could find them, and I insisted upon keeping up the search to the very last moment. It amused the General; it amused me; I honestly believe that it amused Mr Maplestone, as far as he was capable of being amused. He was quite human; once or twice, as we rushed after a "scent," he was even _lively_. I began to think he might really be quite nice.

We found one other parcel--a box of cigarettes--and then made our way back to the lawn, where the General's valet was waiting, and took over the chair. Delphine came up to me and slipped her hand through my arm.

"Evelyn, you have managed beautifully, but you must be dead tired and longing for tea. I'm going to stand over you and make you rest. Stupid of Jacky to send the Squire to help you! You'd have been happier with anyone else, but he's so dense, so in the clouds, that he doesn't notice these things. Evelyn, isn't it strange how he dislikes you?"

"Who? Your husband?"

"Nonsense. No. You know quite well--Mr Maplestone. At first, of course, one can understand he was prejudiced; but _now_! And when you have been so nice!"

"Thank you for that. I'm glad you appreciate me. Why are you so sure the Squire does not?"

"Because," she said imperturbably, "he tells me so!"

Curiosity is a terrible thing. It's bad enough when it concerns itself about other people, but when it comes to oneself, it's ten times worse.

I _ached_ to ask, "When?" and "Where?" and "How?" and exactly in what words Mr Maplestone's dislike had been expressed, but pride closed my lips, and I would not let myself go. Of course I had known before, but I had imagined that after the chair episode--What stings is not the dislike itself, but the putting it into words to such a confidante as Delphine. No, let me be honest; the dislike itself _does_ sting. I have my own petty feminine craving, and it is to be liked, to have people appreciate and approve of me, if they do nothing more. Even indifference is difficult to bear, but _dislike_--Well, thank goodness, I have lived in a warm-hearted country among warm-hearted people who have loved me for my name if for nothing else. Really and truly, I believe this ugly, red-headed man is the first person who has ever dared to speak openly of dislike for Evelyn Wastneys!

I pity and despise him. I wouldn't have his approval if I could.

Henceforth I shall never think of him, nor mention his name. To me he is dead. All is over between us before anything ever began! It is finished. This is the end. The fete ended at nine o'clock, and Charmion and I, with the other stall-holders, went into the vicarage to enjoy a supper of sc.r.a.ps. As a rule I adore sc.r.a.p suppers after everyone has gone, and the servants have gone to bed, and the guests make sorties into the pantry, and bring out plates of patties and fruit, and derelict meringues, and wobbling halves of jellies and creams. They taste so _good_, eaten in picnic fashion before the fire, with a shortage of forks and spoons, and a plate as a lucky chance. But somehow last night things didn't go! I think perhaps there were too many "sc.r.a.ps" which should by rights have been sold and paid for in good hard cash. The Vicar was full of hospitable zeal, and evidently enjoyed pressing the good things upon his guests, but there was something in Delphine's pale glance which checked merriment. She had had her fun, the interest of planning, the excitement of playing hostess to the country-side, the satisfaction of knowing herself to be the best-dressed, most admired woman present, and of queening it over women who had hitherto patronised herself. Poor little b.u.t.terfly! she had enjoyed her hour, but now the sun had gone down, and she was counting the cost. The treasurer added up the coins handed in from the various stalls and announced the total. There was a little pause.

"Ah!" said the Vicar slowly. "More than last year, but not so much as we hoped. How will it work out, dear, after paying expenses?"

"Oh, Jacky, I'm _tired_! Can't we have supper in peace, before worrying about money!" she cried pettishly.

Not another word was said.

When we were driving home, Charmion gave me a shock.

"I rather like Mrs Maplestone," she said dreamily. "She is stiff and conventional, and it has never even occurred to her that anyone can disagree with her views, and still have a glimmering of right, but, at least, she is sincere. If one could burrow deep enough beneath the surface, she'd be worth knowing."

"I don't like people who have to be burrowed. Life is too short. And I am perfectly certain that I should shock her into fits. Personally, I don't intend to take the trouble of excavating!"

"That's unfortunate, for she wishes to know you. She has invited us to dinner next Wednesday to meet some friends."

"Charmion! You didn't accept?"

"Certainly I did. Wasn't it your express desire to be sociable, and to know your neighbours?"

"Oh, not them--not there! It's pleasant knowing a few people, but one is at liberty to choose. I think you might have consulted me!"

In the soft dusk she laughed, and stretched out a caressing hand.

"Tired, dear, and--cross? I thought you'd be pleased. Why and wherefore? Tell me the truth?"

"Oh, don't be so tiresome, Charmion. Of course I am tired. I've been on my feet all day long. Cross! Why should I be cross? Only--I don't choose to accept hospitality from that man. I tell you plainly I won't go."

She bowed her head, deliberately, once and again.

"Oh, yes, Evelyn, you will! I gave you your choice, and having made it you will play fair. I should have preferred to remain peacefully at Coventry, but having taken the first step at your request, I don't propose to allow you to force me into society _alone_."

What could I say? What was it _possible_ to say? There is no way out of it. I shall just have to go!

CHAPTER TWELVE.

A REVELATION.

The Vicar has called to tell us that Delphine has made up her accounts, and that the fete has cleared fifty pounds more than the smaller affair last year. He seemed pleased and proud, and I was delighted, too, and immensely relieved, because I had really been horribly afraid there would be no profit at all! Curious to think where all the money came from to pay heavy expenses, and still clear so much! It just shows how small sums add up. I asked if Delphine were very pleased, and he hesitated, and said:--

"She seems tired. Feeling the reaction, no doubt. She worked so hard."

An imp of curiosity tempted me to see if he were really as blind as he appeared.

"She made a splendid hostess. And didn't she look charming, too? I am sure you were proud of her in that lovely new frock!"

His eyes softened with a deep _glowey_ look, which was reserved for Delphine alone.

"I am always proud of her. She always looks charming; but the dress--I am afraid I must plead guilty. I know nothing about her dress."

"Really? Truly? You couldn't tell what it was like?"

"Not for a thousand pounds!"

I stared at him, frowning.