CHAPTER XVIII

BERYL'S TORMENTOR

BERYL was very vexed to have missed the quiet talk with her father which she had hoped to secure by going to meet him at the railway station. She was anxious to consult him on a subject which to her seemed of the utmost importance. It was too provoking that the presence of "that tiresome boy" should have deprived her of the opportunity.

The children had not forgotten Mr. Holly's promise that Beryl should have a birthday treat, when he came home in the autumn. They had often talked of it, and there had been much discussion as to what would be the nicest kind of treat they could enjoy. One pleasure after another had been planned and then thrown aside at the suggestion of something better.

But at last a hint given by Miss Burton had been hailed as the most charming idea possible. The suggestion was that Beryl should give a birthday party.

Now an ordinary children's party would have been a difficult matter to arrange in that quiet Cornish village.

The houses of the gentry lay at wide distances, many miles apart, and Beryl knew nothing of the children of those homes except an occasional sight of them at church. It was not these children that she intended to invite to her party.

Her plan was to have all the children who had come to her Sunday class, little ones and older ones, to spend a long afternoon and take tea in the garden at Egloshayle House. Miss Burton had seen many such entertainments, and knew just how everything should be managed.

There would be no difficulty in amusing the little guests. Coral and Beryl, delighted with the notion, made numberless plans for their diversion.

Beryl's only fear was that her father might object to this mode of keeping her birthday. He might laugh at it, as he had laughed at her idea of having a Sunday school. She knew that she could not give her party whilst Egloshayle House was full of guests; but she wished to gain her father's consent to her doing so at some future day, when the shooting-party had separated and the house was quiet once more.

But Beryl's patience was severely tried ere she could name the subject to her father. His guests and the shooting made great demands on his time.

For some days Coral and Beryl saw scarcely anything of Mr. Hollys, except when they went down to the dining-room in the evening for a few minutes.

It was impossible, of course, to mention her cherished scheme then, in the presence of the company gathered around the table. And if ever Mr. Hollys found leisure for a few minutes' chat with the children, that "horrid boy" was sure to be within hearing, and Beryl would not for the world have had him know what she wished to say to her father.

Beryl did not regard Percy Everard with more favour as she became used to his presence in the house. Yet he paid her more attention than boys of his age usually accord to little girls. His attentions, however, were not always of an agreeable kind. If Beryl had had a brother, she would probably have known how to take Percy's teasing with a better grace. But it was a new experience for her to have her hair pulled without the least warning, her ears tickled with a straw, or to find herself tripped up by a sly foot just as she started for a run, whilst her tormentor seemed to derive the utmost amusement from seeing the annoyance he created.

This form of provocation was more annoying to Beryl than it would have been to many girls, because, as we have seen, she was inclined to esteem herself a person of considerable importance. Even as a little child she had displayed much personal dignity. Percy saw that she was what he called "a conceited little mortal," and he found more delight in tormenting her than in teasing Coral, who had less pride to be kindled into wrath.

Though she was often betrayed into bursts of passionate indignation, Beryl really tried to keep her temper under Percy's constant exasperation. She avoided his company as much as possible; but Percy, suspecting this, often thrust himself upon her in the most unexpected and unwelcome manner. Beryl's greatest comfort was the thought that this state of things could not last for ever. Percy's visit must come to an end some day.

At last her longing for his departure seemed about to be gratified. One day, towards the close of the third week of his stay, she heard him name the following Monday as the day of his return to town. Beryl was so pleased to hear this that she looked across the table at Coral with a beaming smile of congratulation.

Percy caught the look. "So you are pleased that I am going away," he said, looking at Beryl.

Beryl coloured and made no answer.

"Now, Beryl," said her aunt sharply, "don't behave in that absurd way. Say at once that you are sorry Percy is going to leave us."

But Beryl was too truthful to say that she was sorry, when she was feeling very glad. She remained silent.

"Oh, very well," said Percy carelessly; "I'm sorry my company is so unpleasant to you, for I was going to ask Mr. Hollys to bring you with him the next time he comes to town. But I dare say you would rather not stay at my mother's house, as you dislike me so much. You could not avoid seeing me sometimes whilst you were there."

This remark made Beryl uncomfortable. She had a great longing to go to London, and had often asked her father to take her with him when he went. There was nothing she would like better than a visit to town. But the prospect of staying at Mrs. Everard's was not altogether alluring. If Percy would be likely to tease her there, as he had teased her during the last few weeks, she would certainly prefer to remain at Egloshayle. She judged it better to preserve a strict neutrality on the subject, and said not a word, though Percy's suggestion had stirred new longings.

"It is very kind of your mother to be willing to have her," observed Miss Hollys; "but I am afraid she would repent of her kindness when she found what a troublesome charge Beryl is."

"Beryl must get a little more knowledge before she goes to London; do you not think so, Miss Burton?" observed Mr. Hollys. "It will not do to display her ignorance there."

Much disconcerted at finding herself thus made the subject of conversation, Beryl hastily finished her breakfast and escaped from the room as soon as possible.

Beryl's spirits rose as Monday drew near. There was no reason why her birthday party should not be given at the close of that week, if her father would give his consent, for already many of the guests had gone, and the last would have left by then.

She watched for an opportunity of speaking to her father, and managed to secure his company as they walked to church on Sunday morning; Miss Burton aiding her by monopolising Percy's attention, and keeping him by her side all the way.

"That will be rather an odd sort of birthday party, Beryl," said Mr. Hollys, when she had explained her scheme to him. "Shall you know what to do with such visitors?"

"Oh yes, papa, Miss Burton knows how to manage everything, and we have thought of all sorts of ways of amusing the children."

"Then Miss Burton is ready to second your wishes; she approves of this wild idea?"

"Of course, papa. Why, I believe she was the one who first thought of it," said Beryl. "Please don't call it a wild idea; I do so want you to say 'Yes.'"

Mr. Hollys did not hesitate long. Like many kindhearted, easy-tempered men, he enjoyed giving pleasure to others, when it could be done without inconvenience to himself. He was one, moreover, who liked to be popular with the people amongst whom he dwelt, and he knew that Beryl's entertainment would highly please the parents of the children she invited.

"Well, Beryl, I dare say it can be managed," he said. "I must talk it over with Miss Burton, and hear how she intends to arrange the affair."

"Oh, thank you, papa, I am so glad!" exclaimed Beryl, feeling sure that she had gained his consent. "Do you think we might fix it for Friday? Every one will have gone by then."

"Yes, I should think Friday will suit," said her father; "but is it not a pity you did not plan it before Percy left us? He could have helped you finely."

"I would not have had the party whilst he was here for the world," said Beryl vehemently. "He would have spoiled everything. I don't want him to know anything about it. You won't tell him, will you, papa?"

"Certainly not, if you would rather he did not know," said Mr. Hollys, laughing to see the indignant glances Beryl cast at the back of the tall, slim youth who was walking some yards in front. "But how is it you dislike Percy so much, Beryl? He is very kind to you."

"Kind!" retorted Beryl, with a toss of the head, which made her father laugh again. "I don't call him kind. I'm so glad he is going to-morrow. But about Friday, papa. If you and Miss Burton think Friday will do, Coral and I might go and ask the children this afternoon. They ought to know soon."

"Oh yes; you had better give them a long invitation, for fear they should make engagements," said her father satirically.

Beryl saw the absurdity of this remark, and laughed heartily. By this time they were almost at the door of the church, and hearing her laugh, Percy turned round to discover the source of her merriment.

"What were you laughing at, little Duchess?" he asked, noting Beryl's radiant look as she came up to him.

"Nothing," she replied coldly, her indignation excited afresh by the ridiculous title which Percy chose to give her.

"Only idiots laugh at nothing," he returned.

"Then you mean to say that I am an idiot!" she said, flashing an angry glance at him.

"Not at all; for I cannot believe that you were laughing at nothing," he replied.

"Anyhow, I am not going to tell you what I was laughing at," said Beryl.

"Then you own you were laughing at something, and what you said first was not true," returned Percy.

To Beryl's vexation it was impossible to continue longer this amiable sparring, as they were about to enter the church, so Percy had the last word, and his triumphant, mischievous look, as he seated himself opposite to Beryl in the large square pew, showed how he appreciated the advantage he had gained.

Mr. Hollys had some talk with Miss Burton as they walked home from church. She told him her plans for the children's party, and he became quite interested in them, and had not the least objection to make.

To Beryl's delight, it was decided that the fishermen's children should be invited for the following Friday. That afternoon she went with Coral down to the beach, where many of their little scholars were playing, and as the children gathered eagerly about her, she told them of the treat in store for them, and made them all promise to come to her home on Friday afternoon. The children could not readily express their pleasure; but their surprised, delighted looks showed how pleased they were.

Leaving the children to talk freely about the grand idea of taking tea with the little ladies at Egloshayle House, Coral and Beryl strolled along the beach in the shadow of the over-hanging cliffs.

"How surprised they looked," said Coral, "and I am sure they were very glad."

"Of course they were," returned Beryl; "it will be delightful. Oh, isn't it nice to think that by this time to-morrow that horrid Percy will have left us, and we shall have no fear of his interfering to spoil everything. I'm longing to see him drive away."

Beryl little thought that "that horrid Percy" was even then within sound of her voice. They were passing a mass of rocks which shelved away from the side of the cliff, and as Beryl ended, Coral exclaimed, "Hush! Didn't you hear some one call?"

As they waited in silence for a few moments, their ears caught the sound of a faint "Hallo!" which seemed to come from behind one of the rocks.

"What's the matter? Who's there?" called Beryl, as she advanced towards the spot whence the sound came.

"Come here, Beryl," said the voice in reply.

"I believe it's that horrid boy," said Beryl in a tone of annoyance. "And yet it does not sound quite like his voice. I dare say it's some stupid trick of his."

Advancing cautiously round the rock, they soon saw that Beryl was not mistaken in imagining that the voice was Percy's. But he had not the appearance of one playing a trick. He was lying on the stones beneath the cliff, his clothes strewn with dust and fragments of rock, and his face utterly colourless.

"Oh, what is the matter?" exclaimed Beryl. "Have you fallen?"

"Yes, I was trying to climb the cliff, and the path gave way beneath me," said Percy faintly. "Give me your arm, will you, Beryl, and I will try to raise myself?"

Beryl willingly gave him all the help she could, and he dragged himself up into a sitting posture, but turned so sick and faint in consequence, that he was obliged to lean against the child for support. All the tenderness of Beryl's nature came out now. She forgot that it was her tormentor who was brought thus low. Kneeling by his side, she made Percy lean his head upon her shoulder, whilst she gently wiped the perspiration from his forehead.

"Are you in pain?" she asked.

"Yes, my foot hurts me awfully. The rock fell on it. I don't know how I shall get home."

"Coral, you must run home as fast as possible and tell papa," said Beryl, turning to Coral, who stood looking on in silence, her little face white with fear, and tears of distress in her eyes.

Coral ran off without a word. In a few minutes Percy's faintness began to pass away, and he could sit up without Beryl's support. But he was evidently in intense pain.

"Can I do anything to make the pain better?" asked Beryl.

"Do you think you could get my boot off?" he said. "It hurts me dreadfully."

It was no easy matter to remove the boot from the swollen foot on which it pressed so cruelly, but Beryl set to work, not unskilfully, and with the help of Percy's penknife managed to release the injured part. But, careful though she was, this could not be done without giving more pain, and though Percy bore it bravely, he several times turned so white that Beryl feared he was going to faint.

"I am so sorry for you," she said gently. "I wish they would come. It seems so long to wait, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it seems an age; but we must try to bear it," said Percy, setting his teeth together to keep back a groan. "You are a good little woman, Beryl, to wait with me so patiently. I am very much obliged to you."

"As if I should think of leaving you!" said Beryl.

She was so full of pity for him that she began to think that he was really rather nice after all, and she had made a mistake in disliking him so much. She would willingly have kept watch beside him for a longer time, but she was very glad for his sake when at length she heard the sound of steps coming quickly across the shingles.