"You two must learn to be tolerant, as Adeline and I are", returned Philip.
"Pray do not believe a word that Conway says", said Mary. "It is quite the other way about".
"Mary is right", put in Sholto. "It was only yesterday that he slapped her and pulled her hair. I can vouch for it because I was present".
Conway leaped up. "You’ll pay for that!" he said.
With an exclamation of terror, Sholto fled along the beach, Conway in pursuit. Their pale-red hair flew backward from their pale brows.
"Will he hurt him?" asked Kate anxiously.
"He will not kill him", returned Adeline, "but we are an untamed family. You never can tell what we shall do when we’re roused".
"Conway is not really angry", said Mary.
Moved by irresistible curiosity for everything that Conway did, she rose and followed the youths who were now out of sight.
The three did not return till the picnic meal was ready to sit down to. The clothes of the bathers had been completely dried by the warm sand and the sun. They had regained appetites which the heat of the preceding days had taken away.
The young Busbys had gathered driftwood for a fire, and its bright blaze rose crackling from the beach. It was now past sunset and a deep velvet darkness was resting in the shadows. A kettle was boiled. Tea was made. The tempting dishes prepared by Mrs. Coveyduck were arranged on the cloth. The mysterious light, the unconventional costumes, the excellent wine produced by Philip, the relief from enervating heat made the atmosphere gay, with an almost Gallic liveliness. This was partly due to the constant reference by Conway and Mary to life in the south of France. French interjections made the two seem almost foreign, and Sholto imitated all they did. It was surprising how the behaviour of these three, the youngest present with the exception of the youngest Busby who was almost speechless from shyness, affected the behaviour of the more sedate. No one had ever seen Dr. Ramsay in such spirits. With his arm about the plump waist of Lydia Busby, he waved his glass aloft and recited some of the more amorous poems of Robert Burns. Wilmott obviously had taken too much wine. Adeline was in wild spirits. Together she and Wilmott sang "I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls". There were tears in Wilmott’s eyes as they recalled the night in Quebec when they had heard Jenny Lind sing. Life seemed strange and full of beautiful and violent possibilities. The moon rose out of the lake.
"Let’s bathe again!" exclaimed Conway suddenly. He stood slim and white at the water’s rim.
"In the dark?" cried Lydia Busby. "Oh, surely not!"
"We did in the south of France", said Mary. "It was lovely. Far nicer than in daylight because the glare was gone".
"It’s a grand idea", said Isaac Busby. "I shall be first in!" He ran into the water and plunged.
"It’s glorious", he shouted. "Come on, everybody!"
They threw themselves into this new pleasure with the abandon of children. Adeline freed herself from Robert Vaughan and, taking Wilmott’s hand, led him across the rippling sand till the water reached their breasts. She smiled into his eyes.
"Do you feel better now, James?" she asked.
"Better? There is nothing wrong with me".
"Duck down, James. Let the water go over your head".
"Adeline, you don’t understand me in the least. When I am at my happiest, you think I am tipsy or ill. But I do feel a little confused in the head and perhaps a ducking would help me". He looked submissively into her eyes. "Shall we do it now?"
"Yes. Take a deep breath first and hold it".
Down they went under the water. A singing, prehistoric world was theirs for a moment. A world where they had strange adventures, holding fast each other’s hands. Then they came up and rediscovered the moon and their companions.
"I’m divinely happy", said Wilmott. "I really haven’t a care in the world since I know that Henrietta is satisfied and is no longer seeking me. I was wrong in saying you don’t understand me. You are the only one who understands me. I have told you that I am writing a book. I should like to read the first chapters to you. I want your opinion of it".
"Oh, James, how lovely! Will you bring the manuscript tomorrow morning?"
"Yes. I think you will find it quite moving. Shall we go under again?"
"Yes, let’s go under".
Again they disappeared and again rose out of the lake. The voices and laughter of the others came to them softly.
Lydia Busby looked lovelier in her bathing-costume in the moonlight than anyone had dreamed it possible for her to look. The curves of her arms and neck were bewitching. There was an almost seductive sweetness in her smile, a new consciousness of her own charm. Hitherto she had seemed but a tomboy.
The fire had died down. Someone went to the shore and rebuilt it so that its flames rose bright. Suddenly, moved by a common impulse, all gathered round it, posturing and gesticulating in extravagant fashion. Dr. Ramsay picked up an empty bottle and waved it while he quoted Burns. At this moment Elihu Busby appeared from among the willows and stalked across the sand. Before he raised his voice to speak they realised that his sense of decorum was outraged. He flourished the stump of his right arm.
"I never thought", he said, "that I’d live to see the day my children would take part in such a scene".
"’My heart’s in the Highlands,’" chanted the doctor, "’my heart is not here. My heart’s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer’".
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Dr. Ramsay-you who should be an example to the others".
"I have nothing to be ashamed of. I was invited to a party and I came. I am only making myself agreeable".
"If strangers choose to come here and bring outlandish habits from the Old World we can’t prevent ’em, but we can refuse to take part in ’em".
Again the doctor quoted Burns. "What does old Bobbie say?" he declaimed. "He says:
Elihu Busby turned from him to his eldest son.
"I’m sick at heart, Isaac", he said, "to think that you would allow your sisters to take part in such a dissipated scene-hopping about like grasshoppers, half naked and streaming with water".
Lydia and her younger sister began to cry.
Young Isaac said, "Father, we meant no harm and you and Mother knew we were coming on a picnic".
"Would you have behaved in this fashion if your mother and I had been here? This picnic will be the talk of the countryside if it gets out. So far we have been a moral community".
Dr. Ramsay laid down the bottle and folded his arms. Again he quoted Burns:
Thy tens o’ thousands thou hast slain".
Elihu Busby ignored him. He said to his daughters:
"Get into your clothes, girls. As for you, Kate, you are married now, and if your husband chooses to allow you to remain I can’t force you to leave, but if I had known what his tastes are, I might not so soon have forgiven you your marriage to him".
Now Kate also began to cry.
"Really, sir", said Brent, with his disarming smile, "this has been a most innocent affair. I only wish you had been here from the first to see for yourself. But, if Kate’s sisters are leaving, she and I will leave too. Come, Kate, gather up your things".
Weeping, Kate and her sisters fled to the shelter of the cedars.
With dignity and a little truculence, Philip came to Elihu Busby’s side.
"I take it hardly", he said, "that you should come here and criticise my way of entertaining myself and my friends".
Busby liked Philip and admired him. With some softening in his manner he said: