Jeremy sat next to Mary,and behind him hovered Aunt Amy.Only half an hour ago how this would have angered him!To have her interfering with him,saying:"Not two at a time,Jeremy,"or "Pass the little girl the sugar,Jeremy--remember your manners."or "Not so big a piece,Jeremy."But now--he did not know.She was one of the family,and he felt as though the Dean's Ernest had scorned her as well as himself.Also Mary.He felt kind to Mary,and when she whispered "Are you enjoying it,Jeremy?"he answered "Yes;are you?"Not because he was really enjoying it,but because he knew that she wanted him to say that.
He could see Ernest from where he sat,and he knew that Ernest was laughing at him.He remembered that he had given Ernest three splendid marbles,just before his departure to school,as a keepsake.How he wished that he had kept them!He would never give Ernest anything again except blows.Mary might be tiresome sometimes,but she was his sister,and he greatly preferred her as a girl to Ernest's sisters.He could see them now,greedy,ugly things.
"Now,Jeremy,wipe your mouth,"said Aunt Amy.
He obeyed at once.
III
Tea over,they all trooped out into the garden again.The evening light now painted upon the little green lawn strange trembling shadows of purple and grey;the old red garden wall seemed to have crept forwards,as though it would protect the house and the garden from the night;and a sky of the faintest blue seemed,with gentle approval,to bless the quiet town fading into dusk beneath it.Over the centre of the lawn the sun was still shining,and there it was warm and light.But from every side the shadows stealthily crept forward.A group of children played against the golden colour,their white dresses patterns that formed figures and broke and formed again.The Cathedral bell was ringing for evensong,and its notes stole about the garden,and in and out amongst the children,as though some guardian spirit watching over their safety counted their numbers.
Jeremy,feeling rather neglected and miserable,stood in the shadow near the oak on the farther side of the lawn.He did not want to play with those little girls,and yet he was hurt because he had not been asked.The party had been a most miserable failure,and a year ago it would have been such a success.He did not know that he was standing now,in the middle of his eighth year,at the parting of the ways;that only yesterday he had been a baby,and that he would never be a baby again.He did not feel his independence--he felt only inclined to tears and a longing,that he would never,never confess,even to himself,that someone should come and comfort him!
Nevertheless,even at this very moment,although he did not know it,he,a free,independent man,was facing the world for the first time on his own legs.His mother might have realised it had she been there--but she was not.Mary,however,was there,and in the very middle of her game,searching for him,as she was always doing,she found him desolate under the shadow of the oak.She slipped away,and,coming up to him with the shyness and fear that she always had when she approached him,because she loved him so much and he could so easily hurt her,said:
"Aren't you coming to play,Jeremy?"
"I don't care,"he answered gruffly.
"It isn't any fun without you."She paused,and added:"Would you mind if I stayed here too?""I'd rather you played,"he said;and yet he was comforted by her,determined,as he was,that she should never know it!
"I'd rather stay,"she said,and then gazed,with that melancholy stare through her large spectacles that always irritated Jeremy,out across the garden.
"I'm all right,"he said again;"only my stocking tickles,and I can't get at it--it's the back of my leg.I say,Mary,don't you hate the Dean's Ernest?""Yes,I do,"she answered fervently,although she had not thought about him at all--enough for her that Jeremy should hate him!Then she gasped:"Here he comes--"He was walking towards them with a swagger of his long yellow neck and his thin leggy body that Jeremy found especially offensive.
Jeremy "bristled,"and Mary was conscious of that bristling.
"Hallo!"said Ernest.
"Hallo!"said Jeremy.
"What rot these silly games are!"said Ernest."Why can't they have something decent,like cricket?"Jeremy had never played cricket,so he said nothing."At our school,"said Ernest,"we're very good at cricket.We win all our matches always--""I don't care about your school,"said Jeremy,breathing through his nose.
The Dean's Ernest was obviously surprised by this;he had not expected it.His pale neck began to flush.
"Look here,young Cole,"he said,"none of your cheek."This was a new dialect to Jeremy,who had no friends who went to school.All he said,however,breathing more fiercely than before,was:"I don't care--""Oh,don't you?"said Ernest."Now,look here--"Then he paused,apparently uncertain,for a moment,of his courage.The sight of Mary's timorous anxiety,however,reassured him,and he continued:
"It's all right for you,this sort of thing.You ought to be in the nursery with your old podge-faced nurse.Kids like you oughtn't to be allowed out of their prams.""I don't care,"said Jeremy again,seeing in front of him the whole family of the Reverend Dean."Your school isn't much anyway,I expect,and I'm going to school in September,and I'll wear just the same things as you do and--"He wanted to comment upon the plain features of Ernest's sisters,but his gentlemanly courtesy restrained him.He paused for breath,and Ernest seized his advantage.
