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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19859-8.txt b/19859-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6ca7abd --- /dev/null +++ b/19859-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7657 @@ +Project Gutenberg's A Flat Iron for a Farthing, by Juliana Horatia Ewing + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Flat Iron for a Farthing + or Some Passages in the Life of an only Son + +Author: Juliana Horatia Ewing + +Illustrator: M. V. Wheelhouse + +Release Date: November 18, 2006 [EBook #19859] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING *** + + + + +Produced by Kathryn Lybarger, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + [Illustration: Mrs. Bundle (see p. 3).] + + + A FLAT IRON FOR A + FARTHING + + or + + Some Passages in the Life of + an only Son + + + + by + + Juliana Horatia Ewing + + + + Illustrated by + + M. V. Wheelhouse + + + + George Bell & Sons + + London + + 1908. + + * * * * * + +Dedicated + +TO MY DEAR FATHER, + +AND TO HIS SISTER, MY DEAR AUNT MARY, + +IN MEMORY OF + +THEIR GOOD FRIEND AND NURSE, + +E. B. + +OBIT 3 MARCH, 1872, ÆT. 83. + +J. H. E. + + * * * * * + + + + +PREFACE + + +An apology is a sorry Preface to any book, however insignificant, and +yet I am anxious to apologise for the title of this little tale. The +story grew after the title had been (hastily) given, and so many other +incidents gathered round the incident of the purchase of the flat iron +as to make it no longer important enough to appear upon the title +page. It would, however, be dishonest to change the name of a tale +which is reprinted from a Magazine; and I can only apologise for an +appearance of affectation in it which was not intended. + +As the Dedication may seem to suggest that the character of Mrs. +Bundle is a portrait, I may be allowed to say that, except in +faithfulness, and tenderness, and high principle, she bears no +likeness to my father's dear old nurse. + +It may interest some of my child readers to know that the steep street +and the farthing wares are real remembrances out of my own childhood. +Though whether in these days of "advanced prices," the flat irons, the +gridirons with the three fish upon them, and all those other valuable +accessories to doll's housekeeping, which I once delighted to +purchase, can still be obtained for a farthing each, I have lived too +long out of the world of toys to be able to tell. + +J. H. E. + + * * * * * + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAP. + +I. MOTHERLESS + +II. "THE LOOK"--RUBENS--MRS. BUNDLE AGAIN + +III. THE DARK LADY--TROUBLE IMPENDING--BEAUTIFUL, GOLDEN MAMMA + +IV. AUNT MARIA--THE ENEMY ROUTED--LONDON TOWN + +V. MY COUSINS--MISS BLOMFIELD--THE BOY IN BLACK + +VI. THE LITTLE BARONET--DOLLS--CINDER PARCELS--THE OLD GENTLEMAN NEXT + DOOR--THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS + +VII. POLLY AND I RESOLVE TO BE "VERY RELIGIOUS"--DR. PEPJOHN--THE + ALMS-BOX--THE BLIND BEGGAR + +VIII. VISITING THE SICK + +IX. "PEACE BE TO THIS HOUSE" + +X. CONVALESCENCE--MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS--THE JOURNEY TO OAKFORD--OUR + WELCOME + +XI. THE TINSMITH'S--THE BEAVER BONNETS--A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING--I + FAIL TO SECURE A SISTER--RUBENS AND THE DOLL + +XII. THE LITTLE LADIES AGAIN--THE MEADS--THE DROWNED DOLL + +XIII. POLLY--THE PEW AND THE PULPIT--THE FATE OF THE FLAT IRON + +XIV. RUBENS AND I "DROP IN" AT THE RECTORY--GARDENS AND GARDENERS--MY + FATHER COMES FOR ME + +XV. NURSE BUNDLE IS MAGNANIMOUS--MR. GRAY--AN EXPLANATION WITH MY + FATHER + +XVI. THE REAL MR. GRAY--NURSE BUNDLE REGARDS HIM WITH DISFAVOUR + +XVII. I FAIL TO TEACH LATIN TO MRS. BUNDLE--THE RECTOR TEACHES ME + +XVIII. THE ASTHMATIC OLD GENTLEMAN AND HIS RIDDLES--I PLAY TRUANT + AGAIN--IN THE BIG GARDEN + +XIX. THE TUTOR--THE PARISH--A NEW CONTRIBUTOR TO THE ALMS-BOX + +XX. THE TUTOR'S PROPOSAL--A TEACHERS' MEETING + +XXI. OAKFORD ONCE MORE--THE SATIN CHAIRS--THE HOUSEKEEPER--THE LITTLE + LADIES AGAIN--FAMILY MONUMENTS + +XXII. NURSE BUNDLE FINDS A VOCATION--RAGGED ROBIN'S WIFE--MRS. + BUNDLE'S IDEAS ON HUSBANDS AND PUBLIC-HOUSES + +XXIII. I GO TO ETON--MY MASTER--I SERVE HIM WELL + +XXIV. COLLECTIONS--LEO'S LETTER--NURSE BUNDLE AND SIR LIONEL + +XXV. THE DEATH OF RUBENS--POLLY'S NEWS--LAST TIMES + +XXVI. I HEAR FROM MR. JONATHAN ANDREWES--YORKSHIRE--ALATHEA _alias_ + BETTY--WE BURY OUR DEAD OUT OF OUR SIGHT--VOICES OF THE NORTH + +XXVII. THE NEW RECTOR--AUNT MARIA TRIES TO FIND HIM A WIFE--MY FATHER + HAS A SIMILAR CARE FOR ME + +XXVIII. I BELIEVE MYSELF TO BE BROKEN-HEARTED--MARIA IN LOVE--I MAKE + AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE, WHICH IS NEITHER ACCEPTED NOR REFUSED + +XXIX. THE FUTURE LADY DAMER--POLLY HAS A SECRET--UNDER THE + MULBERRY-TREE + +XXX. I MEET THE HEIRESS--I FIND MYSELF MISTAKEN ON MANY POINTS--A NEW + KNOT IN THE FAMILY COMPLICATIONS + +XXXI. MY LADY FRANCES--THE FUTURE LADY DAMER--WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER + AT LAST + +XXXII. WE COME HOME--MRS. BUNDLE QUITS SERVICE + + * * * * * + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +MRS. BUNDLE _Frontispiece_ + +THE LANK LAWYER WAGGED MY HAND OF A MORNING, AND SAID, "AND HOW IS + MISS ELIZA'S LITTLE BEAU?" + +"BLESS ME, THERE'S THAT DOG!" + +"MR. BUCKLE, I BELIEVE?" + +SHE ROLLED ABRUPTLY OVER ON HER SEAT AND SCRAMBLED OFF BACKWARDS + +POLLY AND REGIE IN THE "PULPIT" AND THE "PEW" + +"ALL TOGETHER, IF YOU PLEASE!" + +IT WAS ONLY A QUIET DINNER PARTY, AND MISS CHISLETT HAD BROUGHT OUT + HER NEEDLEWORK + + * * * * * + + + + +A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING + +CHAPTER I + +MOTHERLESS + + +When the children clamour for a story, my wife says to me, "Tell them +how you bought a flat iron for a farthing." Which I very gladly do; +for three reasons. In the first place, it is about myself, and so I +take an interest in it. Secondly, it is about some one very dear to +me, as will appear hereafter. Thirdly, it is the only original story +in my somewhat limited collection, and I am naturally rather proud of +the favour with which it is invariably received. I think it was the +foolish fancy of my dear wife and children combined that this most +veracious history should be committed to paper. It was either +because--being so unused to authorship--I had no notion of +composition, and was troubled by a tyro tendency to stray from my +subject; or because the part played by the flat iron, though +important, was small; or because I and my affairs were most chiefly +interesting to myself as writer, and my family as readers; or from a +combination of all these reasons together, that my tale outgrew its +first title and we had to add a second, and call it "Some Passages in +the Life of an only Son." + +Yes, I was an only son. I was an only child also, speaking as the +world speaks, and not as Wordsworth's "simple child" spoke. But let me +rather use the "little maid's" reckoning, and say that I have, rather +than that I had, a sister. "Her grave is green, it may be seen." She +peeped into the world, and we called her Alice; then she went away +again and took my mother with her. It was my first great, bitter +grief. + +I remember well the day when I was led with much mysterious solemnity +to see my new sister. She was then a week old. + +"You must be quiet, sir," said Mrs. Bundle, a new member of our +establishment, "and not on no account make no noise to disturb your +dear, pretty mamma." + +Repressed by this accumulation of negatives, as well as by the size +and dignity of Mrs. Bundle's outward woman, I went a-tiptoe under her +large shadow to see my new acquisition. + +Very young children are not always pretty, but my sister was beautiful +beyond the wont of babies. It is an old simile, but she was like a +beautiful painting of a cherub. Her little face wore an expression +seldom seen except on a few faces of those who have but lately come +into this world, or those who are about to go from it. The hair that +just gilded the pink head I was allowed to kiss was one shade paler +than that which made a great aureole on the pillow about the pale face +of my "dear, pretty" mother. + +Years afterwards--in Belgium--I bought an old mediæval painting of a +Madonna. That Madonna had a stiffness, a deadly pallor, a thinness of +face incompatible with strict beauty. But on the thin lips there was a +smile for which no word is lovely enough; and in the eyes was a pure +and far-seeing look, hardly to be imagined except by one who painted +(like Fra Angelico) upon his knees. The background (like that of many +religious paintings of the date) was gilt. With such a look and such a +smile my mother's face shone out of the mass of her golden hair the +day she died. For this I bought the picture; for this I keep it still. + +But to go back. + +I liked Mrs. Bundle. I had taken to her from the evening when she +arrived in a red shawl, with several bandboxes. My affection for her +was established next day, when she washed my face before dinner. My +own nurse was bony, her hands were all knuckles, and she washed my +face as she scrubbed the nursery floor on Saturdays. Mrs. Bundle's +plump palms were like pincushions, and she washed my face as if it had +been a baby's. + +On the evening of the day when I first saw Sister Alice, I took tea in +the housekeeper's room. My nurse was out for the evening, but Mrs. +Cadman from the village was of the party, and neither cakes nor +conversation flagged. Mrs. Cadman had hollow eyes, and (on occasion) a +hollow voice, which was very impressive. She wore curl-papers +continually, which once caused me to ask my nurse if she ever took +them out. + +"On Sundays she do," said Nurse. + +"She's very religious then, I suppose," said I; and I did really think +it a great compliment that she paid to the first day of the week. + +I was only just four years old at this time--an age when one is apt to +ask inconvenient questions and to make strange observations--when one +is struggling to understand life through the mist of novelties about +one, and the additional confusion of falsehood which it is so common +to speak or to insinuate without scruple to very young children. + +The housekeeper and Mrs. Cadman had conversed for some time after tea +without diverting my attention from the new box of bricks which Mrs. +Bundle (commissioned by my father) had brought from the town for me; +but when I had put all the round arches on the pairs of pillars, and +had made a very successful "Tower of Babel" with cross layers of the +bricks tapering towards the top, I had leisure to look round and +listen. + +"I never know'd one with that look as lived," Mrs. Cadman was saying, +in her hollow tone. "It took notice from the first. Mark my words, +ma'am, a sweeter child I never saw, but it's _too_ good and _too_ +pretty to be long for this world." + +It is difficult to say exactly how much one understands at four years +old, or rather how far one quite comprehends the things one perceives +in part. I understood, or felt, enough of what I heard, and of the +sympathetic sighs that followed Mrs. Cadman's speech, to make me +stumble over the Tower of Babel, and present myself at Mrs. Cadman's +knee with the question-- + +"Is mamma too pretty and good for this world, Mrs. Cadman?" + +I caught her elderly wink as quickly as the housekeeper, to whom it +was directed. I was not completely deceived by her answer. + +"Why, bless his dear heart, Master Reginald. Who did he think I was +talking about, love?" + +"My new baby sister," said I, without hesitation. + +"No such thing, lovey," said the audacious Mrs. Cadman; "housekeeper +and me was talking about Mrs. Jones's little boy." + +"Where does Mrs. Jones live?" I asked. + +"In London town, my dear." + +I sighed. I knew nothing of London town, and could not prove that Mrs. +Jones had no existence. But I felt dimly dissatisfied, in spite of a +slice of sponge-cake, and being put to bed (for a treat) in papa's +dressing-room. My sleep was broken by uneasy dreams, in which Mrs. +Jones figured with the face of Mrs. Cadman and her hollow voice. I had +a sensation that that night the house never went to rest. People came +in and out with a pretentious purpose of not awaking me. My father +never came to bed. I felt convinced that I heard the doctor's voice in +the passage. At last, while it was yet dark, and when I seemed to have +been sleeping and waking, waking and falling asleep again in my crib +for weeks, my father came in with a strange look upon his face, and +took me up in his arms, and wrapped a blanket round me, saying mamma +wanted to kiss me, but I must be very good and make no noise. There +was little fear of that! I gazed in utter silence at the sweet face +that was whiter than the sheet below it, the hair that shone brighter +than ever in the candlelight. Only when I kissed her, and she had laid +her wan hand on my head, I whispered to my father, "Why is mamma so +cold?" + +With a smothered groan he carried me back to bed, and I cried myself +to sleep. It was too true, then. She was too good and too pretty for +this world, and before sunrise she was gone. + +Before the day was ended Sister Alice left us also. She never knew a +harder resting-place than our mother's arms. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +"THE LOOK"--RUBENS--MRS. BUNDLE AGAIN + + +My widowed father and I were both terribly lonely. The depths of his +loss in the lovely and lovable wife who had been his constant +companion for nearly six years I could not fathom at the time. For my +own part, I was quite as miserable as I have ever been since, and I +doubt if I shall ever feel such overwhelming desolation again, unless +the same sorrow befalls me as then befell him. + +I "fretted"--as the servants expressed it--to such an extent as to +affect my health; and I fancy it was because my father's attention was +called to the fact that I was fast fading after the mother and sister +whose death (and my own loneliness) I bewailed, that he roused himself +from his own grief to comfort mine. Once more I was "dressed" after +tea. Of late my bony nurse had not thought it necessary to go through +this ceremony, and I had crept about in the same crape-covered frock +from breakfast to bedtime. + +Now I came down to dessert again, and though I think the empty place +at the end of the table gave my father a fresh shock when I took my +old post by him, yet I fancy the lonely evening was less lonely for my +presence. + +From his intense indulgence I think I dimly gathered that he thought +me ill. I combined this in my mind with a speech of my nurse's that I +had overheard, and which gave me the horrors at the time--"He's got +_the look_! It's his poor ma over again!"--and I felt a sort of +melancholy self-importance not uncommon with children who are out of +health. + +I may say here that my nurse had a quality very common amongst +uneducated people. She was "sensational;" and her custom of going over +all the circumstances of my mother's death and funeral (down to the +price of the black paramatta of which her own dress was composed) with +her friends, when she took me out walking, had not tended to make me +happier or more cheerful. + +That night I ate more from my father's plate than I had eaten for +weeks. As I lay after dinner with my head upon his breast, he stroked +my curls with a tender touch that seemed to heal my griefs, and said, +almost in a tone of remorse, + +"What can papa do for you, my poor dear boy?" + +I looked up quickly into his face. + +"What would Regie like?" he persisted. + +I quite understood him now, and spoke out boldly the desires of my +heart. + +"Please, papa, I should like Mrs. Bundle for a nurse; and I do very +much want Rubens." + +"And who is Rubens?" asked my father. + +"Oh, please, it's a dog," I said. "It belongs to Mr. Mackenzie at the +school. And it's such a little dear, all red and white; and it licked +my face when nurse and I were there yesterday, and I put my hand in +its mouth, and it rolled over on its back, and it's got long ears, and +it followed me all the way home, and I gave it a piece of bread, and +it can sit up, and"-- + +"But, my little man," interrupted my father--and he had absolutely +smiled at my catalogue of marvels--"if Rubens belongs to Mr. +Mackenzie, and is such a wonderful fellow, I'm afraid Mr. Mackenzie +won't part with him." + +"He would," I said, "but--" and I paused, for I feared the barrier was +insurmountable. + +"But what?" said my father. + +"He wants ten shillings for him, Nurse says." + +"If that's all, Regie," said my father, "you and I will go and buy +Rubens to-morrow morning." + +Rubens was a little red and white spaniel of much beauty and sagacity. +He was the prettiest, gentlest, most winning of playfellows. With him +by my side, I now ran merrily about, instead of creeping moodily at +the heels of nurse and her friends. Abundantly occupied in testing the +tricks he knew, and teaching him new ones, I had the less leisure to +listen open-mouthed to cadaverous gossip of the Cadman class. Finally, +when I had bidden him good-night a hundred times, with absolutely +fraternal embraces, I was soothed by the light weight of his head +resting on my foot. He seemed to chase the hideous fancies which had +hitherto passed from nurse's daytime conversation to trouble my night +visions, as he would chase a water-fowl from a reedy marsh, and I +slept--as he did--peacefully. + +Nor was this all. My other wish was also to be fulfilled, but not +without some vexations beforehand. It was by a certain air and tone +which my nurse suddenly assumed towards me, and which it is difficult +to describe by any other word than "heighty-teighty," and also by dark +hints of changes which she hoped (but seemed far from believing) would +be for my good, and finally, by downright lamentations and tragic +inquiries as to what she had done to be parted from her boy, and +"could her chickabiddy have the heart to drive away his loving and +faithful nursey," that I learned that it was contemplated to supersede +her by some one else, and that if she did not know that I was to blame +in the matter, she at any rate believed me to have influence enough to +obtain a reversal of the decree. That Mrs. Bundle was to be her +successor I gathered from allusions to "your great fat bouncing women +that would eat their heads off; but as to cleaning out a nursery--let +them see!" But her most masterly stroke was a certain conversation +with Mrs. Cadman carried on in my hearing. + +"Have you ever notice, Mrs. Cadman," inquired my bony nurse of her not +less bony visitor--"Have you ever notice how them stout people as +looks so good-natured as if butter wouldn't melt in their mouths is +that wicked and cruel underneath?" And then followed a series of +nurse's most ghastly anecdotes, relative to fat mothers who had +ill-treated their children, fat nurses who had nearly been the death +of their unfortunate charges, fat female murderers, and a fat +acquaintance of her own, who was "taken" in apoplexy after a fit of +rage with her husband. + +"What a warning! what a moral!" said Mrs. Cadman. She meant it for a +pious observation, but I felt that the warning and the moral were for +me. And not even the presence of Rubens could dispel the darkness of +my dreams that night. + +Alternately goaded and caressed by my nurse, who now laid aside a +habit she had of beating a tattoo with her knuckles on my head when I +was naughty, to the intense confusion and irritation of my brain, I +at last resolved to beg my father to let her remain with us. I felt +that it was--as she had pointed out--intense ingratitude on my part to +wish to part with her, and I said as much when I went down to dessert +that evening. Morever, I now lived in vague fear of those terrible +qualities which lay hidden beneath Mrs. Bundle's benevolent exterior. + +"If nurse has been teasing you about the matter," said my father, with +a frown, "that would decide me to get rid of her, if I had not so +decided before. As to your not liking Mrs. Bundle now--My dear little +son, you must learn to know your own mind. You told me you wanted Mrs. +Bundle--by very good luck I have been able to get hold of her, and +when she comes you must make the best of her." + +She came the next day, and my bony nurse departed. She wept +indignantly, I wept remorsefully, and then waited in terror for the +manifestation of Mrs. Bundle's cruel propensities. + +I waited in vain. The reign of Mrs. Bundle was a reign of peace and +plenty, of loving-kindness and all good things. Moreover it was a +reign of wholesomeness, both for body and mind. She did not give me +cheese and beer from her own supper when she was in a good temper, nor +pound my unfortunate head with her knuckles if I displeased her. She +was strict in the maintenance of a certain old-fashioned nursery +etiquette, which obliged me to put away my chair after meals, fold my +clothes at bedtime, put away my toys when I had done with them, say +"please," "thank you," grace before and after meals, prayers night and +morning, a hymn in bed, and the Church Catechism on Sunday. She +snubbed the maids who alluded in my presence to things I could not or +should not understand, and she directed her own conversation to me, on +matters suitable to my age, instead of talking over my childish head +to her gossips. The stories of horror and crime, the fore-doomed +babies, the murders, the mysterious whispered communications faded +from my untroubled brain. Nurse Bundle's tales were of the young +masters and misses she had known. Her worst domestic tragedy was about +the boy who broke his leg over the chair he had failed to put away +after breakfast. Her romances were the good old Nursery Legends of +Dick Whittington, the Babes in the Wood, and so forth. My dreams +became less like the columns of a provincial newspaper. I imagined +myself another Marquis of Carabas, with Rubens in boots. I made a +desert island in the garden, which only lacked the geography-book +peculiarity of "water all round" it. I planted beans in the fond hope +that they would tower to the skies and take me with them. I became--in +fancy--Lord Mayor of London, and Mrs. Bundle shared my civic throne +and dignities, and we gave Rubens six beefeaters and a barge to wait +upon his pleasure. + +Life, in short, was utterly changed for me. I grew strong, and stout, +and well, and happy. And I loved Nurse Bundle. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE DARK LADY--TROUBLE IMPENDING--BEAUTIFUL, GOLDEN MAMMA + + +So two years passed away. Nurse Bundle was still with me. With her I +"did lessons" after a fashion. I learned to read, I had many of the +Psalms and a good deal of poetry--sacred and secular--by heart. In an +old-fashioned, but slow and thorough manner, I acquired the first +outlines of geography, arithmetic, etc., and what Mrs. Bundle taught +me I repeated to Rubens. But I don't think he ever learned the +"capital towns of Europe," though we studied them together under the +same oak tree. + +We had a happy two years of it together under the Bundle dynasty, and +then trouble came. + +I was never fond of demonstrative affection from strangers. The ladies +who lavish kisses and flattery upon one's youthful head after eating +papa's good dinner--keeping a sharp protective eye on their own silk +dresses, and perchance pricking one with a brooch or pushing a curl +into one eye with a kid-gloved finger--I held in unfeigned abhorrence. +But over and above my natural instinct against the unloving fondling +of drawing-room visitors, I had a special and peculiar antipathy to +Miss Eliza Burton. + +At first, I think I rather admired her. Her rolling eyes, the black +hair plastered low upon her forehead,--the colour high, but never +changeable or delicate--the amplitude and rustle of her skirts, the +impressiveness of her manner, her very positive matureness, were just +what the crude taste of childhood is apt to be fascinated by. She was +the sister of my father's man of business; and she and her brother +were visiting at my home. She really looked well in the morning, +"toned down" by a fresh, summer muslin, and all womanly anxiety to +relieve my father of the trouble of making the tea for breakfast. + +"Dear Mr. Dacre, _do_ let me relieve you of that task," she cried, her +ribbons fluttering over the sugar-basin. "I never like to see a +gentleman sacrificing himself for his guests at breakfast. You have +enough to do at dinner, carving large joints, and jointing those +terrible birds. At breakfast a gentleman should have no trouble but +the cracking of his own egg and the reading of his own newspaper. Now +do let me!" + +Miss Burton's long fingers were almost on the tea-caddy; but at that +moment my father quietly opened it, and began to measure out the tea. + +"I never trouble my lady visitors with this," he said, quietly. "I am +only too well accustomed to it." + +Child as I was, I felt well satisfied that my father would let no one +fill my mother's place. For so it was, and all Miss Burton's efforts +failed to put her, even for a moment, at the head of his table. + +I do not quite know how or when it was that I began to realize that +such was her effort. I remember once hearing a scrap of conversation +between our most respectable and respectful butler and the +housekeeper--"behind the scenes"--as the former worthy came from the +breakfast-room. + +"And how's the new missis this morning, Mr. Smith?" asked the +housekeeper, with a bitterness not softened by the prospect of +possible dethronement. + +"Another try for the tea-tray, ma'am," replied Smith, "but it's no +go." + +"A brazen, black-haired old maid!" cried the housekeeper. "To think of +her taking the place of that sweet angel, Mrs. Dacre (and she barely +two years in her grave), and pretending to act a mother's part by the +poor boy and all. I've no patience!" + +On one excuse or another, the Burtons contrived to extend their visit; +and the prospect of a marriage between my father and Miss Burton was +now discussed too openly behind his back for me to fail to hear it. +Then Nurse Bundle on this subject hardly exercised her usual +discretion in withholding me from servants' gossip, and servants' +gossip from me. Her own indignation was strongly aroused, and I had no +difficulty in connecting her tearful embraces, and her allusions to my +dead mother, with the misfortune we all believed to be impending. + +[Illustration: The lank lawyer wagged my hand of a morning, and said, +"And how is Miss Eliza's little beau?"] + +At first I had admired Miss Burton's bouncing looks. Then my head had +been turned to some extent by her flattery, and by the establishment +of that most objectionable of domestic jokes, the parody of love +affairs in connection with children. Miss Burton called me her little +sweetheart, and sent me messages, and vowed that I was quite a little +man of the world, and then was sure that I was a desperate flirt. The +lank lawyer wagged my hand of a morning, and said, "And how is +Miss Eliza's little beau?" And I laughed, and looked important, +and talked rather louder, and escaped as often as I could from the +nursery, and endeavoured to act up to the character assigned me with +about as much grace as Æsop's donkey trying to dance. I must have +become a perfect nuisance to any sensible person at this period, and +indeed my father had an interview with Nurse Bundle on the subject. + +"Master Reginald seems to me to be more troublesome than he used to +be, nurse," said my father. + +"Indeed you say true, sir," said Mrs. Bundle, only too glad to reply; +"but it's the drawing-room and not the nursery as does it. Miss Burton +is always a begging for him to be allowed to stay up at nights and to +lunch in the dining-room, and to come down of a morning, and to have a +half-holiday in an afternoon; and, saving your better knowledge, sir, +it's a bad thing to break into the regular ways of children. It ain't +for their happiness, nor for any one else's." + +"You are perfectly right, perfectly right," said my father, "and it +shall not occur again. Ah! my poor boy," he added in an irrepressible +outburst, "you suffer for lack of a mother's care. I do what I can, +but a man cannot supply a woman's place to a child." + +Mrs. Bundle's feelings at this soliloquy may be imagined. "You might +have knocked me down with a feather, sir," she assured the butler +(unlikely as it seemed!) in describing the scene afterwards. She found +strength, however, to reply to my father's remark. + +"Indeed, sir, a mother's place never can be filled to a child by no +one whatever. Least of all such a mother as he had in your dear lady. +But he's a boy, sir, and not a girl, and in all reason a father is +what he'll chiefly look to in a year or two. And for the meanwhile, +sir, I ask you, could Master Reginald look better or behave better +than he did afore the company come? It's only natural as smart ladies +who knows nothing whatever of children, and how they should be brought +up, and what's for their good, should think it a kindness to spoil +them. Any one may see the lady has no notion of children, and would be +the ruin of Master Reginald if she had much to do with him; but when +the company's gone, sir, and he's left quiet with his papa, you'll +find him as good as any young gentleman needs to be, if you'll excuse +my freedom in speaking, sir." + +Whatever my father thought of Mrs. Bundle's freedom of speech, he only +said, + +"Master Reginald will be quite under your orders for the future, +Nurse," and so dismissed her. + +And Mrs. Bundle having "said her say," withdrew to say it over again +in confidence to the housekeeper. + +As for me, if my vanity was stronger than my good taste for a while, +the quickness of childish instinct soon convinced me that Miss Burton +had no real affection for me. Then I was puzzled by her spasmodic +attentions when my father was in the room, and her rough repulses when +I "bothered" her at less appropriate moments. I got tired of her, too, +of the sound of her voice, of her black hair and unchanging red +cheeks. And from the day that I caught her beating Rubens for lying on +the edge of her dress, I lived in terror of her. Those rolling black +eyes had not a pleasant look when the lady was out of temper. And was +she really to be the new mistress of the house? To take the place of +my fair, gentle, beautiful mother? That wave of household gossip which +for ever surges behind the master's back was always breaking over me +now, in expressions of pity for the motherless child of "the dear lady +dead and gone." + +"I don't like black hair," I announced one day at luncheon; "I like +beautiful, shining, golden hair, like poor mamma's." + +"Don't talk nonsense, Reginald," said my father, angrily, and shortly +afterwards I was dismissed to the nursery. + +If I had only had my childish memory to trust to, I do not think that +I could have kept so clear a remembrance of my mother as I had. But in +my father's dressing-room there hung a water-colour sketch of his +young wife, with me--her first baby--on her lap. It was a very happy +portrait. The little one was nestled in her arms, and she herself was +just looking up with a bright smile of happiness and pride. That look +came full at the spectator, and perhaps it was because it was so very +lifelike that I had (ever since I could remember) indulged a curious +freak of childish sentiment by nodding to the picture and saying, +"Good-morning, mamma," whenever I came into the room. Such little +superstitions become part of one's life, and I freely confess that I +salute that portrait still! I remember, too, that as time went on I +lost sight of the fact that it was I who lay on my mother's lap, and +always regarded the two as Mamma and Sister Alice--that ever-baby +sister whom I had once kissed, and no more. I generally saw them at +least once a day, for it was my privilege to play in my father's +dressing-room during part of his toilet, and we had a stereotyped +joke between us in reference to his shaving, which always ended in my +receiving a piece of the creamy lather on the tip of my nose. + +But it was one evening when the shadow hanging over the household was +deepest upon me, that I slipped unobserved out of the drawing-room +where Miss Burton was "performing" on my mother's piano, and crept +slowly and sadly upstairs. I went slowly, partly out of my heavy +grief, and partly because I carried Rubens in my arms. Had not the +lawyer kicked him because he lay upon the pedal? I was resolved that +after such an insult he should not so much as have the trouble of +walking upstairs. So I carried him, and as I went I condoled with him. + +"Did the nasty man kick him? My poor Ru, my darling, dear Ru! The +pedal is yours, and not his, and the whole house is yours, and not his +nor Miss Burton's; and oh, I wish they would go!" + +As I whined, Rubens whined; as I kissed him he licked me, and the +result was unfavourable to balance, and I was obliged to sit down on a +step. And as I sat I wept, and as I wept that overpowering mother-need +came over me, which drives even the little ragamuffin of the gutter to +carry his complaints to "mother" for comfort and redress. And I took +up Rubens in my arms again, sobbing, and saying, "I shall go to +Mamma!" and so weeping and in the darkness we crept into the +dressing-room. + +I could see nothing, but I knew well where "Mamma" was, and standing +under the picture, I sobbed out my incoherent complaint. + +"Good-evening, Mamma! Good-evening, Sister Alice! Please, Mamma, it's +me and Rubens." (Sobs on my part, and frantic attempts by Rubens to +lick every inch of my face at once.) "And please, Mamma, we're very +miser-r-r-r-rable. And oh! please, Mamma, don't let papa marry Miss +Burton. Please, please don't, dear, beautiful, golden Mamma! And oh! +how we wish you could come back! Rubens and I." + +My voice died away with a wail which was dismally echoed by Rubens. +Then, suddenly, in the darkness came a sob that was purely human, and +I was clasped in a woman's arms, and covered with tender kisses and +soothing caresses. For one wild moment, in my excitement, and the +boundless faith of childhood, I thought my mother had heard me, and +come back. + +But it was only Nurse Bundle. She had been putting away some clothes +in my father's bedroom, and had been drawn to the dressing-room by +hearing my voice. + +I think this scene decided her to take some active steps. I feel +convinced that in some way it was through her influence that a letter +of invitation was despatched the following day to Aunt Maria. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AUNT MARIA--THE ENEMY ROUTED--LONDON TOWN + + +Aunt Maria was my father's sister. She was married to a wealthy +gentleman, and had a large family of children. It was from her that we +originally got Nurse Bundle; and anecdotes of her and of my cousins, +and wonderful accounts of London (where they lived), had long figured +conspicuously in Mrs. Bundle's nursery chronicles. + +Aunt Maria came, and Uncle Ascott came with her. + +It is not altogether without a reason that I speak of them in this +order. Aunt Maria was the active partner of their establishment. She +was a clever, vigorous, well-educated, inartistic, kindly, managing +woman. She was not exactly "meddling," but when she thought it her +duty to interfere in a matter, no delicacy of scruples, and no +nervousness baulked the directness of her proceedings. When she was +most sweeping or uncompromising, Uncle Ascott would say, "My dear +Maria!" But it was generally from a spasm of nervous cowardice, and +not from any deliberate wish to interrupt Aunt Maria's course of +action. He trusted her entirely. + +Aunt Maria was very shrewd, and that long interview with Nurse Bundle +in her own room was hardly needed to acquaint her with the condition +of domestic politics in our establishment. She "took in" the Burtons +with one glance. The ladies "fell out" the following evening. The +Burtons left Dacrefield the next morning, and at lunch Aunt Maria +"pulled them to pieces" with as little remorse as a cook would pluck a +partridge. I never saw Miss Eliza Burton again. + +Aunt Maria did not fondle or spoil me. She might perhaps have shown +more tenderness to her brother's only and motherless child; but, after +Miss Burton, hers was a fault on the right side. She had a kindly +interest in me, and she showed it by asking me to pay her a visit in +London. + +"It will do the child good, Regie," she said to my father. "He will be +with other children, and all our London sights will be new to him. I +will take every care of him, and you must come up and fetch him back. +It will do you good too." + +"To be sure!" chimed in Uncle Ascott, patting me good-naturedly on the +head; "Master Reginald will fancy himself in Fairy Land. There are the +Zoological Gardens, and Madame Tussaud's Waxwork Exhibition, and the +Pantomime, and no one knows what besides! We shall make him quite at +home! He and Helen are just the same age, I think, and Polly's a year +or so younger, eh, mamma?" + +"Nineteen months," said Aunt Maria, decisively; and she turned once +more to my father, upon whom she was urging certain particulars. + +It was with unfeigned joy that I heard my father say, + +"Well, thank you, Maria. I do think it will do him good. And I'll +certainly come and look you and Robert up myself." + +There was only one drawback to my pleasure, when the much anticipated +time of my first visit to London came. Aunt Maria did not like dogs; +Uncle Ascott too said that "they were very rural and nice for the +country, but that they didn't do in a town house. Besides which, +Regie," he added, "such a pretty dog as Rubens would be sure to be +stolen. And you wouldn't like that." + +"I will take good care of Rubens, my boy," added my father; and with +this promise I was obliged to content myself. + +The excitement and pleasure of the various preparations for my visit +were in themselves a treat. There had been some domestic discussion as +to a suitable box for my clothes, and the matter was not quickly +settled. There happened to be no box of exactly the convenient size in +the house, and it was proposed to pack my things with Nurse Bundle's +in one of the larger cases. This was a disappointment to my dignity; +and I ventured to hint that I "should like a trunk all to myself, like +a grown-up gentleman," without, however, much hope that my wishes +would be fulfilled. The surprise was all the pleasanter when, on the +day before our departure, there arrived by the carrier's cart from our +nearest town a small, daintily-finished trunk, with a lock and key to +it, and my initials in brass nails upon the outside. It was a parting +gift from my father. + +"I like young ladies and gentlemen to have things nice about 'em," +Nurse Bundle observed, as we prepared to pack my trunk. "Then they +takes a pride in their things, and so it stands to reason they takes +more care of 'em." + +To this excellent sentiment I gave my heartiest assent, and proceeded +to illustrate it by the fastidious care with which I selected and +folded the clothes I wished to take. As I examined my socks for signs +of wear and tear, and then folded them by the ingenious process of +grasping the heels and turning them inside out, in imitation of Nurse +Bundle, an idea struck me, based upon my late reading and approaching +prospects of travel. + +"Nurse," said I, "I think I should like to learn to darn socks, +because, you know, I might want to know how, if I was cast away on a +desert island." + +"If ever you find yourself on a desolate island, Master Reginald," +said Nurse Bundle, "just you write straight off to me, and I'll come +and do them kind of things for you." + +"Well," said I, "only mind you bring Rubens, if I haven't got him." + +For I had dim ideas that some Robinson Crusoe adventures might befall +me before I returned home from this present expedition. + +My father's place was about sixty miles from London. Mr. and Mrs. +Ascott had come down in their own carriage, and were to return the +same way. + +I was to go with them, and Nurse Bundle also. She was to sit in the +rumble of the carriage behind. Every particular of each new +arrangement afforded me great amusement; and I could hardly control my +impatience for the eventful day to arrive. + +It came at last. There was very early breakfast for us all in the +dining-room. No appetite, however, had I; and very cruel I thought +Aunt Maria for insisting that I should swallow a certain amount of +food, as a condition of being allowed to go at all. My enforced +breakfast over, I went to look for Rubens. Ever since the day when it +was first settled that I should go, the dear dog had kept close, very +close at my heels. That depressed and aimless wandering about which +always afflicts the dogs of the household when any of the family are +going away from home was strong upon him. After the new trunk came +into my room, Rubens took into his head a fancy for lying upon it; and +though the brass nails must have been very uncomfortable, and though +my bed was always free to him, on the box he was determined to be, and +on the box he lay for hours together. + +It was on the box that I found him, in the portico, despite the cords +which now added a fresh discomfort to his self-chosen resting-place. I +called to him, but though he wagged his tail he seemed disinclined to +move, and lay curled up with one eye shut and one fixed on the +carriage at the door. + +"He's been trying to get into the carriage, sir," said the butler. + +"You want to go too, poor Ruby, don't you?" I said; and I went in +search of meats to console him. + +He accepted a good breakfast from my hands with gratitude, and then +curled himself up with one eye watchful as before. The reason of his +proceedings was finally made evident by his determined struggles to +accompany us at the last; and it was not till he had been forcibly +shut up in the coach-house that we were able to start. My grief at +parting with him was lessened by the distraction of another question. + +Of all places about our equipage, I should have preferred riding with +the postilion. Short of that, I was most anxious to sit behind in the +rumble with my nurse. This favour was at length conceded, and after a +long farewell from my father, gilded with a sovereign in my pocket, I +was, with a mountain of wraps, consigned to the care of Nurse Bundle +in the back seat. + +The dew was still on the ground, the birds sang their loudest, the +morning air was fresh and delicious, and before we had driven five +miles on our way I could have eaten three such breakfasts as the one I +had rejected at six o'clock. In the first two villages through which +we drove people seemed to be only just getting up and beginning the +day's business. In one or two "genteel" houses the blinds were still +down; in reference to which I resolved that when _I_ grew up I would +not waste the best part of the day in bed, with the sun shining, the +birds singing, the flowers opening, and country people going about +their business, all beyond my closed windows. + +"Nurse, please, I should like always to have breakfast at six o'clock. +Do you hear, Nursey?" I added, for Mrs. Bundle feigned to be absorbed +in contemplating a flock of sheep which were being driven past us. + +"Very well, my dear. We'll see." + +That "we'll see" of Nurse Bundle's was a sort of moral soothing-syrup +which she kept to allay inconvenient curiosity and over-pertinacious +projects in the nursery. + +I had soon reason to decide that if I had breakfast at six, luncheon +would not be unacceptable at half-past ten, at about which time I lost +sight of the scenery and confined my attention to a worsted workbag in +which Nurse Bundle had a store of most acceptable buns. Halting +shortly after this to water the horses, a glass of milk was got for me +from a wayside inn, over the door of which hung a small gate, on whose +bars the following legend was painted:-- + + "This gate hangs well + And hinders none. + Refresh and pay, + And travel on." + +"Did you put that up?" I inquired of the man who brought my milk. + +"No, sir. It's been there long enough," was his reply. + +"What does 'hinders none' mean?" I asked. + +The man looked back, and considered the question. + +"It means as it's not in the way of nothing. It don't hinder nobody," +he replied at last. + +"It couldn't if it wanted to," said I; "for it doesn't reach across +the road. If it did, I suppose it would be a tollbar." + +"He's a rum little chap, that!" said the waiter to Nurse Bundle, when +he had taken back my empty glass. And he unmistakably nodded at me. + +"What is a rum little chap, Nurse?" I inquired when we had fairly +started once more. + +"It's very low language," said Mrs. Bundle, indignantly; and this fact +depressed me for several miles. + +At about half-past eleven we rattled into Farnham, and stopped to +lunch at "The Bush." I was delighted to get down from my perch, and to +stretch my cramped legs by running about in the charming garden behind +that celebrated inn. Dim bright memories are with me still of the +long-windowed parlour opening into a garden verdant with grass, and +stately yew hedges, and formal clipped trees; gay, too, with bright +flowers, and mysterious with a walk winding under an arch of the yew +hedge to the more distant bowling-green. On one side of this arch an +admirably-carved stone figure in broadcoat and ruffles played +perpetually upon a stone fiddle to an equally spirited shepherdess in +hoop and high heels, who was for ever posed in dancing posture upon +her pedestal and never danced away. As I wandered round the garden +whilst luncheon was being prepared, I was greatly taken with these +figures, and wondered if it might be that they were an enchanted +prince and princess turned to stone by some wicked witch, envious of +their happiness in the peaceful garden amid the green alleys and +fragrant flowers. As I ate my luncheon I felt as if I were consuming +what was their property, and pondered the supposition that some day +the spell might be broken, and the stone-bound couple came down from +those high pedestals, and go dancing and fiddling into the Farnham +streets. + +They showed no symptoms of moving whilst we remained, and, duly +refreshed, we now proceeded on our way. I rejected the offer of a seat +inside the carriage with scorn, and Nurse and I clambered back to our +perch. No easy matter for either of us, by the way!--Nurse Bundle +being so much too large, and I so much too small, to compass the feat +with anything approaching to ease. + +I was greatly pleased with the dreary beauties of Bagshot Heath, and +Nurse Bundle (to whom the whole journey was familiar) enlivened this +part of our way by such anecdotes of Dick Turpin, the celebrated +highwayman, as she deemed suitable for my amusement. With what +interest I gazed at the little house by the roadside where Turpin was +wont to lodge, and where, arriving late one night, he demanded +beef-steak for supper in terms so peremptory that, there being none in +the house, the old woman who acted as his housekeeper was obliged to +walk, then and there, to the nearest town to procure it! This and +various other incidents of the robber's career I learned from Nurse +Bundle, who told me that traditions of his exploits and character +were still fresh in the neighbouring villages. + +At Virginia Water we dined and changed horses. We stayed here longer +than was necessary, that I might see the lake and the ship; and Uncle +Ascott gave sixpence to an old man with a wooden leg who told us all +about it. And still I declined an inside place, and went back with +Nurse Bundle to the rumble. Early rising and the long drive began to +make me sleepy. The tame beauties of the valley of the Thames drew +little attention from my weary eyes; and I do not remember much about +the place where we next halted, except that the tea tasted of hay, and +that the bread and butter were good. + +I gazed dreamily at Hounslow, despite fresh tales of Dick Turpin; and +all the successive "jogs" by which Nurse called my incapable attention +to the lamplighters, the shops, the bottles in the chemists' windows, +and Hyde Park, failed to rouse me to any intelligent appreciation of +the great city, now that I had reached it. After a long weary dream of +rattle and bustle, and dim lamps, and houses stretching upwards like +Jack's beanstalk through the chilly and foggy darkness, the carriage +stopped with one final jolt in a quiet and partially-lighted square; +and I was lifted down, and staggered into a house where the light was +as abundant and overpowering as it was feeble and inefficient without, +and, cramped in my limbs, and smothered with shawls, I could only beg +in my utter weariness to be put to bed. + +Aunt Maria was always sensible, and generally kind. + +"Bring him at once to his room, Mrs. Bundle," she said, "and get his +clothes off, and I will bring him some hot wine and water and a few +rusks." As in a dream, I was undressed, my face and hands washed, my +prayers said in a somewhat perfunctory fashion, and my evening hymn +commuted in consideration of my fatigues for the beautiful verse, "I +will lay me down in peace, and take my rest," etc.; and by the time +that I sank luxuriously between the clean sheets, I was almost +sufficiently restored to appreciate the dainty appearance of my room. +Then Aunt Maria brought me the hot wine and water flavoured with +sleep-giving cloves, and Nurse folded my clothes, and tucked me up, +and left me, with the friendly reflection of the lamps without to keep +me company. + +I do not think I had really been to sleep, but I believe I was dozing, +when I fancied that I heard the familiar sound of Rubens lapping water +from the toilette jug in my room at home. Just conscious that I was +not there, and that Rubens could not be here, the sound began to +trouble me. At first I was too sleepy to care to look round. Then as I +became more awake and the sound not less distinct, I felt fidgety and +frightened, and at last called faintly for Nurse Bundle. + +Then the sound stopped. I could hardly breathe, and had just resolved +upon making a brave sally for assistance, when--plump! _something_ +alighted on my bed, and, wildly impossible as it seemed, Rubens +himself waggled up to my pillow, and began licking my face as if his +life depended on laying my nose and all other projecting parts of my +countenance flat with my cheeks. + +How he had got to London we never knew. As he made an easy escape from +the coach-house at Dacrefield, it was always supposed that he simply +followed the carriage, and had the wit to hide himself when we +stopped on the road. He was terribly tired. He might well be thirsty! + +I levied large contributions on the box of rusks which Aunt Maria had +left by my bedside, for his benefit, and he supped well. + +Then he curled himself up in his own proper place at my feet. He was +intensely self-satisfied, and expressed his high idea of his own +exploit by self-gratulatory "grumphs," as after describing many mystic +circles, and scraping up the fair Marseilles quilt on some plan of his +own, he brought his nose and tail together in a satisfactory position +in his nest, and we passed our first night in London in dreamless and +profound sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +MY COUSINS--MISS BLOMFIELD--THE BOY IN BLACK + + +My first letter to my father was the work of several days, and as my +penmanship was not of a rapid order, it cost me a good deal of +trouble. When it was finished it ran thus: + +MY DEAR PAPA, + + I hope you are quite well. i am quite well. Rubens is here + and he is quite well. We dont no how he got here but i am + verry glad. Ant Maria said well he cant be sent back now so + he sleeps on my bed and i like London it is a kweer place + the houses are very big and i like my cussens pretty well + they are all gals their nozes are very big i like Polly. + +Nurse is quite well so good-bye. + +i am your very loving son, + +REGINALD DACRE. + +Though I cannot defend the spelling of the above document, I must say +that it does not leave much to be added to the portrait of my cousins. +But it will be more polite to introduce them separately, as they were +presented to me. + +I heard them, by the bye, before I saw them. It was whilst I was +dressing, the morning after my arrival, that I heard sounds in the +room below, which were interpreted by Nurse as being "Miss Maria +doing her music." The peculiarity of Miss Maria's music was that after +a scramble over the notes, suggestive of some one running to get +impetus for a jump, and when the ear waited impatiently for the +consummation, Miss Maria baulked her leap, so to speak, and got no +farther, and began the scramble again, and stuck once more, and so on. +And as, whilst finding the running passage quite too much for one +hand, she struggled on with a different phrase in the other hand at +the same time, instead of practising the two hands separately, her +chances of final success seemed remote indeed. Then I heard the +performance in peculiar circumstances. Nurse Bundle had opened my +window, and about two minutes after my cousin commenced her practice, +an organ-grinder in the street below began his. The subject of poor +Maria's piece knew no completion, as she stuck halfway; but the +organ-grinder's melodies only stopped for a touch to the mechanism, +and Black-Eyed Susan passed into the Old Hundredth, awkwardly, but +with hardly a perceptible pause. The effect of the joint performance +was at first ludicrous, and by degrees maddening, especially when we +had come to the Old Hundredth, which was so familiar in connection +with the words of the Psalm. + +"Three and four and--" began poor Maria afresh, with desperate +resolution; and then off she went up the key-board; "one and two and +three and four and, one and two and three and four and--" + +"--joy--His--courts--un--to," ground the organ in the inevitable +pause. And then my cousin took courage and made another start--"Three +and four and one and two and," etc.; but at the old place the nasal +notes of the other instrument evoked "al--ways," from my memory; and +Maria pausing in despair, the Old Hundredth finished triumphantly, +"For--it--is--seemly--so--to--do." + +At half-past eight Maria stopped abruptly in the middle of her run, +and Nurse took me down to the school-room for breakfast. + +The school-room was high and narrow, with a very old carpet, and a +very old piano, some books, two globes, and a good deal of feminine +rubbish in the way of old work-baskets, unfinished sewing, etc. There +were two long windows, the lower halves of which were covered with +paint. This mattered the less as the only view from them was of +backyards, roofs, and chimneys. Living as I did, so much alone with my +father, I was at first oppressed by the number of petticoats in the +room--five girls of ages ranging from twelve to six, and a grown-up +lady in a spare brown stuff dress and spectacles. + +As we entered she came quickly forward and shook Nurse by the hand. + +"How do you do, Mrs. Bundle? Very glad to see you again, Mrs. Bundle." + +Nurse Bundle shook hands first, and curtsied afterwards. + +"I'm very well, thank you, ma'am, and hope you're the same. Master +Reginald Dacre, ma'am. This lady is Miss Blomfield, Master Reginald; +and I hope you'll behave properly, and give the lady no trouble." + +"I'm the governess, my dear," said Miss Blomfield, emphatically. (She +always "made a point" of announcing her dependent position to +strangers. "It is best to avoid any awkwardness," she was wont to +say; and I saw glances and smiles exchanged on this occasion between +the girls.) Miss Blomfield was very kind to me. Indeed she was kind to +every one. Her other peculiarities were conscientiousness and the +fidgets, and tendencies to fine crochet, calomel, and Calvinism, and +an abiding quality of harassing and being harassed, which I may here +say is, I am convinced, a common and most unfortunate atmosphere of +much of the process of education for girls of the upper and middle +classes in England. + +At this moment my aunt came in. + +"Good morning, Miss Blomfield." + +"Good morning, Mrs. Ascott," the governess hastily interposed. "I hope +you're well this morning." + +"Good morning, girls. Good morning, Nurse. How do you, Regie? All +right this morning? Bless me, there's that dog! What an extraordinary +affair it is! Mr. Ascott says he shall send it to the 'Gentleman's +Magazine.' Well, he can't be sent back now, so I suppose he'll have to +stop. And you must keep him out of mischief, Regie. Remember, he's not +to come into the drawing-room. Mrs. Bundle, will you see to that? Miss +Blomfield, will you kindly speak to Signor Rigi when he comes +to-morrow--" + +"Certainly, Mrs. Ascott," interposed the governess. + +"--about that piece of Maria's? She doesn't seem to get on with it a +bit." + +"No, Mrs. Ascott." + +"And I'm sure she's been practising it for a long time." + +"Yes, Mrs. Ascott." + +[Illustration: "Bless me, there's that dog!"] + +"Mr. Ascott says it makes his hand quite unsteady when he's shaving in +the morning, to hear her always break off at one place." + +The lines of harass on Miss Blomfield's countenance deepened visibly, +and her crochet-needle trembled in her hand, whilst a despondent +stolidity settled on Maria's face. + +"Certainly, Mrs. Ascott. I'm very glad you've spoken. Thank you for +mentioning it, Mrs. Ascott. It has distressed me very greatly, and +been a great trouble on my mind for some time. I spoke very seriously +to Maria last Sabbath on the subject" (symptoms of sniffling on poor +Maria's part). "I believe she wishes to do her duty, and I may say I +am anxious to do mine, in my position. Of course, Mrs. Ascott, I know +you've a right to expect an improvement, and I shall be most happy to +rise half an hour earlier, so as to give her a longer practice than +the other young ladies, and only consider it my duty as your +governess, Mrs. Ascott. I've felt it a great trouble, for I cannot +imagine how it is that Maria does not improve in her music as Jane +does, and I give them equal attention exactly; and what makes it more +singular still is that Maria is very good at her sums--I have no fault +to find whatever. But I regret to say it is not the case with Jane. I +told her on Wednesday that I did not wish to make any complaint; but I +feel it a duty, Mrs. Ascott, to let you know that her marks for +arithmetic are not what you have a right to expect." + +Here Miss Blomfield paused and wiped her eyes. Not that she was +weeping, but over and above her short-sightedness she was troubled +with a dimness of vision, which afflicted her more at some times than +others. As she was in the habit of endeavouring to counteract the +evils of a too constantly laborious and sedentary life, and of an +anxious and desponding temperament, by large doses of calomel, her +malady increased with painfully rapid strides. On this particular +morning she had been busy since five o'clock, and neither she nor the +girls (who rose at six) had had anything to eat, and they were all +somewhat faint for want of a breakfast which was cooling on the table. +Meanwhile a "humming in the head," to which _she_ was subject, +rendered Maria mercifully indifferent to the proposal to add an extra +half-hour to her distasteful labours; and Miss Blomfield corrugated +her eyebrows, and was conscientiously distressed and really puzzled +that Mother Nature should give different gifts to her children, when +their mother and teachers according to the flesh were so particular to +afford them an equality of "advantages." + +"Signor Rigi told me that Maria has not got so good an ear as Jane," +said Mrs. Ascott. "However, perhaps it will be well to let Maria +practise half an hour, and Jane do half an hour at her arithmetic on +Saturday afternoons." + +"Certainly, Mrs. Ascott." + +"And now," said my aunt, "I must introduce the girls to Reginald. This +is Maria, your eldest cousin, and nearly double your age, for she is +twelve. This is Jane, two years younger. This is Helen; she is nine, +and as tall as Jane, you see. This is Harriet, eight. And this is +Mary--Polly, as papa calls her--and she is nineteen months younger +than you, and a terrible tomboy already; so don't make her worse. This +is your cousin, girls, Reginald Dacre. You must amuse him among you, +and don't tease him, for he is not used to children." + +We "shook hands" all round, and I liked Polly's hand the best. It was +least froggy, cold, and spiritless. + +Then Mrs. Ascott departed, and Maria (overpowered by the humming) +"flopped" into her chair after a fashion that would certainly have +drawn a rebuke from Miss Blomfield if an access of eye-dimness had not +carried her to her own seat with little more grace. + +Uncle Ascott had a large nose, and my cousins were the image of him +and of each other. They were plain, lady-like, rather bouncing girls, +with aquiline noses, voices with a family _twang_ that was slightly +nasal, long feet terribly given to chilblains, and long fingers, with +which they all by turns practised the same exercises on the old piano +on successive mornings before breakfast. When we became more intimate, +I used to keep watch on the clock for the benefit of the one who was +practising. At half-past eight she was released, and shutting up the +book with a bang would scamper off, in summer to stretch herself, and +in winter to warm her hands and toes. I used to watch their fingers +with childish awe, wondering how such thin pieces of flesh and bone +hit such hard blows to the notes without cracking, and being also +somewhat puzzled by the run of good luck which seemed to direct their +weak and random-looking skips and jumps to the keys at which they were +aimed. I have seen them in tears over their "music," as it was called, +but they were generally persevering, and in winter (so I afterwards +discovered) invariably blue. + +It was not till we had finished breakfast that Miss Blomfield became +fairly conscious of the presence of Rubens, and when she did so her +alarm was very great. + +Considering what she suffered from her own proper and peculiar +worries, it seemed melancholy to have to add to her burdens the hourly +expectation of an outbreak of hydrophobia. + +In vain I testified to the sweetness of Rubens' temper. It is +undeniable that dogs do sometimes bite when you least expect it, and +that some bites end in hydrophobia; and it was long before Miss +Blomfield became reconciled to this new inmate of the school-room. + +The girls, on the contrary, were delighted with my dog; and it was on +this ground that we became friendly. My particular affection for Polly +was also probably due to the discovery that with an incomparably +stolid expression of countenance she was passing highly buttered +pieces of bread under the table to Rubens at breakfast. + +Polly was my chief companion. The other girls were good-natured, but +they were constantly occupied in the school-room, and hours that were +not nominally "lesson time" were given to preparing tasks for the next +day. By a great and very unusual concession, Polly's lessons were +shortened that she might bear me company. For the day or two before +this was decided on I had been very lonely, and Cousin Polly's holiday +brought much satisfaction both to me and to her; but it filled poor +Miss Blomfield's mind with disquietude, scruples, and misgivings. + +In the middle of the square where my uncle and aunt lived there was a +garden, with trees, and grass, and gravel-walks; and here Polly and I +played at hide and seek, and ran races, and chased each other and +Rubens. + +The garden was free to all dwellers in the square, and several other +children besides ourselves were wont to play there. One day as I was +strolling about, a little boy whom I had not seen before came down the +walk and crossed the grass. He seemed to be a year or two older than +myself, and caught my eye immediately by his remarkable beauty, and by +the depth of the mourning which he wore. His features were exquisitely +cut, and, in a child, one was not disposed to complain of their +effeminacy. His long fair hair was combed--in royal fashion--down his +back, a style at that time most unusual; his tightly-fitting jacket +and breeches were black, bordered with deep crape; not even a white +collar relieved his sombre attire, from which his fair face shone out +doubly fair by contrast. + +"Polly! Polly!" I cried, running to find my companion and guide, "who +is that beautiful boy in black?" + +"That's little Sir Lionel Damer," said Polly. "Good-morning, Leo!" and +she nodded as he passed. + +The boy just touched his hat, bent his head with a melancholy and yet +half-comical dignity, and walked on. + +"Who's he in mourning for?" I asked. + +"His father and mother," said Polly. "They were drowned together, and +now he is Sir Lionel." + +I looked after him with sudden and intense sympathy. His mother and +his father too! This indeed was sorrow deeper than mine. Surely his +mother, like mine, must have been fair and beautiful, so much beauty +and fairness had descended to him. + +"Has he any sisters, Polly?" I asked. + +Polly shook her head. "I don't think he has anybody," said she. + +Then he also was an only son! + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE LITTLE BARONET--DOLLS--CINDER PARCELS--THE OLD GENTLEMAN NEXT +DOOR--THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS + + +The next time I saw Sir Lionel was about two days afterwards, in the +afternoon, when the elder girls had gone for a drive in the carriage +with Aunt Maria, and the others, with myself, were playing in the +garden; Miss Blomfield being seated on a camp-stool reading a terrible +article on "Rabies" in the Medical Dictionary. + +Rubens and I had strolled away from the rest, and I was exercising him +in some of his tricks when the little baronet passed us with his +accustomed air of mingled melancholy, dignity, and self-consciousness. +I was a good deal fascinated by him. Beauty has a strong attraction +for children, and the depth of his weeds invested him with a +melancholy interest, which has also great charms for the young. Then, +to crown all, he mourned the loss of a young mother--and so did I. I +involuntarily showed off Rubens as he approached, and he lingered and +watched us. By a sort of impulse I took off my little hat, as I had +been taught to do to strangers. He lifted his with a dismal grace and +moved on. + +But as he walked about I could see that he kept looking to where +Rubens and I played upon the grass, and at last he came and sat down +near us. + +"Is that your dog?" he asked. + +"Yes he's my dog," I answered. + +"He seems very clever," said Sir Lionel. "Did you teach him all those +tricks yourself?" + +"Very nearly all," said I. "Rubens, shake hands with Sir Lionel." + +"How do you know my name?" he asked. + +"Polly told me," said I. + +"Do you know Polly?" Sir Lionel inquired. + +I stared, forgetting that of course he did not know who I was, and +answered-- + +"She's my cousin." + +"What's your name?" he asked. + +I told him. + +"Do you like Polly?" he continued. + +"Very much," I said, warmly. + +It was with a ludicrous imitation of some grown-up person's manner +that he added, in perfect gravity-- + +"I hope you are not in love with her?" + +"Oh, dear no!" I cried, hastily, for I had had enough of that joke +with Miss Eliza Burton. + +"Then that is all right," said the little baronet; "let us be +friends." And friends we became. "Call me Leo, and I'll call you +Reginald," said the little gentleman; and so it was. + +I think it is not doing myself more than justice if I say that to +this, my first friendship, I was faithful and devoted. Leo, for his +part, was always affectionate, and he had an admiration for Rubens +which went a long way with Rubens' master. But he was a little spoiled +and capricious, and, like many people of rather small capacities +(whether young or old), he was often unintentionally inconsiderate. In +those days my affection waited willingly upon his; but I know now that +in a quiet amiable way he was selfish. I was blessed myself with an +easy temper, and at that time it had ample opportunities of +accommodating itself to the whims of my friend Leo and my cousin +Polly. Not that Polly was like Sir Lionel in any way whatever. But she +was quick-tempered and resolute. She was much more clever for her age +than I was for mine. She was very decided and rapid in her views and +proceedings, very generous and affectionate also, and not at all +selfish. But her qualities and those of Leo came to the same thing as +far as I was concerned. I invariably yielded to them both. + +Between themselves, I may say, they squabbled systematically, and were +never either friends or enemies for two days together. + +Polly and I never quarrelled. I did her behests manfully, as a general +rule; and if her sway became intolerable, I complained and bewailed, +on which she relented, being as easily moved to pity as to wrath. + +As the weather grew more chill, we seldom went out except in the +morning. In the afternoon Polly and I (sometimes accompanied by Leo) +played in the nursery at the top of the house. + +Now and then the other girls would come up, and "play at dolls" with +Polly. On these occasions the treatment I experienced was certainly +hard. They were soon absorbed in dressing and undressing, sham meals, +sham lessons, and all the domestic romance of doll-life, in which, +according to my poor abilities, I should have been most happy to have +taken a part. But, on the unwarrantable assumption that "boys could +not play at dolls," the only part assigned me in the puppet comedy was +to take the dolls' dirty clothes to and from an imaginary wash in a +miniature wheelbarrow. I did for some time assume the character of +dolls' medical man with considerable success; but having vaccinated +the kid arm of one of my patients too deeply on a certain occasion +with a big pin, she suffered so severely from loss of bran that I was +voted a practitioner of the old school, and dismissed. I need hardly +say that this harsh decision proved the ruin of my professional +prospects, and I was sent back to my wheelbarrow. It was when we were +tired of our ordinary amusements, during a week of wet weather, that +Polly and I devised a new piece of fun to enliven the monotony of the +hours when we were shut up in that town nursery at the top of the +house. + +Outside the nursery-windows were iron bars--a sensible precaution of +Aunt Maria against accidents to "the little ones." One day when the +window was slightly open, and Polly and I were hanging on the +window-ledge, in attitudes that fully justified the precautionary +measure of a grating, a bit of paper which was rolled up in Polly's +hand escaped from her grasp, and floated down into the street. In a +moment Polly and I were standing on the window-ledge, peering down--to +the best of our ability--into the square and into the area depths +below. Like a snow-flake in summer, we saw our paper-twist lying on +the pavement; but our delight rose to ecstasy when a portly passer-by +stooped and picked up the document and carefully examined it. + +Out of this incident arose a systematic amusement, which, in advance +of our age, we called "the parcel post." + +By shoving aside the fire-guard in the absence of our nurses, we +obtained some cinders, with which we repaired to our post at the +window, thus illustrating that natural proclivity of children to +places of danger which is the bane of parents and guardians. Here we +fastened up little fragments of cinder in pieces of writing-paper, and +having secured them tidily with string, we dropped these parcels +through the iron bars as into a post-office. It was a breathless +moment when they fell through space like shooting stars. It was a +triumph if they cleared the area. But the aim and the end of our +labours was to see one of our missives attract the notice of a +passer-by, then excite his curiosity, and finally--if he opened +it--rouse his unspeakable disgust and disappointment. + +Like other tricksters, our game lasted long because of the ever-green +credulity of our "public." In the ever-fresh stream of human life +which daily flowed beneath our windows, there were sure to be one or +more pedestrians who, with varying expressions of conscientious +responsibility, unprincipled appropriation, or mere curiosity, would +open our parcels, either to ascertain what trinket should be restored +to its owner, or to keep what was to be got, or to see what there was +to be seen. + +One day when we dropped one of our parcels at the feet of a lady who +was going by, she nonplussed us very effectually by ringing the bell +and handing in to the footman "something which had been accidentally +dropped from one of the upper windows." Fortunately for us the parcel +did not reach Aunt Maria; Polly intercepted it. + +As the passers-by never wearied of our parcels, I do not know when we +should have got tired of our share of the fun, but for an occurrence +which brought the amusement suddenly to an end. One afternoon we had +made up the neatest of little white-paper parcels, worthy of having +come from a jeweller's, and I clambered on to the window-seat that I +might drop it successfully (and quite clear of the area) into the +street. Just as I dropped it, there passed an elderly gentleman very +precisely dressed, with a gold-headed cane, and a very well-brushed +hat. Pop! I let the cinder parcel fall on to his beaver, from which it +rebounded to his feet. The old gentleman looked quickly up, our eyes +met, and I felt convinced that he saw that I had thrown it. I called +Polly, and as she reached my side the old gentleman untied and +examined the parcel. When he came to the cinder, he looked up once +more, and Polly jumped from the window with a prolonged "Oh!" + +"What's the matter?" I asked. + +"Oh, dear!" cried Polly; "it's the old gentleman next door!" + +For several days we lived in unenviable suspense. Every morning did we +expect to be summoned from the school-room to be scolded by Aunt +Maria. Every afternoon we dreaded the arrival of "the old gentleman +next door" to make his formal complaint, and, whenever the front-door +bell rang, Polly and I literally "shook in our shoes." + +But several days passed, and we heard nothing of it. We had given up +the practice in our fright, but had some thoughts of beginning again, +as no harm had come to us. + +One evening (by an odd coincidence, my birthday was on the morrow) as +Polly and I were putting away our playthings preparatory to being +dressed to go down to dessert, a large brown-paper parcel was brought +into the nursery addressed jointly to me and my cousin. + +"It's a birthday present for you, Regie!" Polly cried. + +"But there's your name on it, Polly," said I. + +"It must be a mistake," said Polly. But she looked very much pleased, +nevertheless; and so, I have no doubt, did I. We cut the string, we +tore off the first thick covering. The present, whatever it might be, +was securely wrapped a second time in finer brown paper and carefully +tied. + +"It's _very_ carefully done up," said I, cutting the second string. + +"It must be something nice," said Polly, decisively; "that's why it's +taken such care of." + +If Polly's reasoning were just, it must have been something very nice +indeed, for under the second wrapper was a third, and under the third +was a fourth, and under the fourth was a fifth, and under the fifth +was a sixth, and under the sixth was a seventh. We were just on the +point of giving it up in despair when we came to a box. With some +difficulty we got the lid open, and took out one or two folds of +paper. Then there was a lot of soft shavings, such as brittle toys and +gimcracks are often packed in, and among the shavings was--a small +neatly-folded white-paper parcel. _And inside the parcel was a +cinder._ + +We certainly looked very foolish as we stood before our present. I do +not think any of the people we had taken in had looked so thoroughly +and completely so. We were both on the eve of crying, and both ended +by laughing. Then Polly--in those trenchant tones which recalled Aunt +Maria forcibly to one's mind--said, + +"Well! we quite deserve it." + +The "parcel-post" was discontinued. + +We had no doubt as to who had played us this trick. It was the old +gentleman next door. He was a wealthy, benevolent, and rather +eccentric old bachelor. It was his custom to take an early walk for +the good of his health in the garden of the square, and he sometimes +took an evening stroll in the same place for pleasure. Somehow or +other he had made a speaking acquaintance with Miss Blomfield, and we +afterwards discovered that he had made all needful inquiries as to the +names, etc., of Polly and myself from her--she, however, being quite +innocent as to the drift of his questions. + +I should certainly not have selected the old gentleman's hat to drop +our best parcel on to, if I had known who he was. I was not likely to +forget his face now. + +I soon got to know all our neighbours by sight. On one side of us was +the old gentleman, whose name was Bartram; on the other side lived Sir +Lionel Damer. He was staying with his guardian, an old Colonel +Sinclair; and when my father came up to town he and this Colonel +Sinclair discovered that they were old school-fellows, which Leo and I +looked upon as a good omen for our friendship. + +Polly and I and Nurse Bundle became as learned in gossip as any one +else who lives in a town, and is constantly looking out of the window. +We knew the (bird's-eye) appearance of everybody on our side of the +square, their servants, their cats and dogs, their carriages, and even +their tradesmen. If one of the neighbours changed his milkman, or +there came so much as a new muffin man to the square, we were all +agog. One day I saw Polly upon our perch, struggling to get her face +close to the glass, and much hindered by the size of her nose. I felt +sure that there was _something_ down below--at least a new butcher's +boy. So I was not surprised when she called me to "come and look." + +"Who is it?" said Polly. + +"I don't know," said I. + +And then we both stared on, as if by downright hard looking we could +discover the name of the gentleman who had just come down the steps +from Colonel Sinclair's house. He was a short slight man, young, and +with sandy hair. Neither of us had seen him before. Having the good +fortune to see him return to Colonel Sinclair's house, about two hours +later, I hurried with the news to Polly; and we resolved to get to see +Leo as soon as possible, and satisfy our curiosity respecting the +stranger. So in the afternoon we sent a message to invite him to come +and play with us in the square, but we received the answer that "Sir +Lionel was engaged." + +Later on he came into the square, and the stranger with him. Polly and +I and Rubens were together on a seat; but when Leo saw us he gave a +scanty nod and went off in the opposite direction, leaning on the arm +of the stranger and apparently absorbed in talking to him. I was +rather hurt by his neglect of us. But Polly said positively, + +"That is Leo's way. He likes new friends. But when he treats me like +that, I do not speak to him for a week afterwards." + +That evening a cab carried off the stranger, and next day Leo came to +us in the square, all smiles and friendliness. + +"I've been so wanting to see you!" he cried, in the most devoted +tones. But Polly only took up her doll, and with her impressive nose +in the air, walked off to the house. + +I could not quarrel with Leo myself, and we were soon as friendly as +ever. + +"I want to tell you some news, Regie," he said. "Colonel Sinclair has +decided that I am to have a tutor." + +"Are you glad?" I asked. + +"Yes, very," said Sir Lionel. "You see I like him very much--I mean +the tutor. He was here yesterday. You saw him with me. He is going to +be a clergyman. He has been at Cambridge, and he plays the flute." + +For a long time Leo enlarged to me upon the merits of his tutor that +was to be; and when I went back to Polly the news I had to impart +served to atone for my not having joined her in snubbing the +capricious Sir Lionel. As for him, he was very restless under Polly's +displeasure, and finally apologized, on which Polly gave him a sound +scolding, which, to my surprise, he took in the utmost good part, and +we were all once more the best possible friends. + +That visit to London was an era in my life. It certainly was most +enjoyable, and it did me a world of good, body and mind. When my +father came up, we enjoyed it still more. He coaxed holidays for the +girls even out of Aunt Maria, and took us (Leo and all) to places of +amusement. With him we went to the Zoological Gardens. The monkeys +attracted me indescribably, and I seriously proposed to my father to +adopt one or two of them as brothers for me. I felt convinced that if +they were properly dressed and taught they would be quite +companionable, and I said so, to my father's great amusement, and to +the scandal of Nurse Bundle, who was with us. + +"I fear you would never teach them to talk, Regie," said my father; +"and a friend who could neither speak to you nor understand you when +you spoke to him would be a very poor companion, even if he could +dance on the top of a barrel-organ and crack hard nuts." + +"But, papa, babies can't talk at first," said I; "they have to be +taught." + +Now by good luck for my argument there stood near us a country woman +with a child in her arms to whom she was holding out a biscuit, +repeating as she did so, "Ta!" in that expectant tone which is +supposed to encourage childish efforts to pronounce the abbreviated +form of thanks. + +"Now look, papa!" I cried, "that's the way I should teach a monkey. If +I were to hold out a bit of cake to him, and say, 'Ta,'"--(and as I +spoke I did so to a highly intelligent little gentleman who sat close +to the bars of the cage with his eyes on my face, as if he were well +aware that a question of deep importance to himself was being +discussed)-- + +"He would probably snatch it out of your hand without further +ceremony," said my father. And, dashing his skinny fingers through the +bars, this was, I regret to say, precisely what the little gentleman +did. I was quite taken aback; but as we turned round, to my infinite +delight, the undutiful baby snatched the biscuit from its mother's +hand after a fashion so remarkably similar that we all burst out +laughing, and I shouted in triumph, + +"Now, papa! children do it too." + +"Well, Regie," he answered, "I think you have made out a good case. +But the question which now remains is, whether Mrs. Bundle will have +your young friends in the nursery." + +But Mrs. Bundle's horror at my remarks was too great to admit of her +even entering into the joke. + +The monkeys were somewhat driven from my mind by the wit and wisdom of +the elephant, and the condescension displayed by so large an animal +in accepting the light refreshment of penny buns. After he had had +several, Leo began to tease him, holding out a bun and snatching it +away again. As he was holding it out for the fourth or fifth time, the +elephant extended his trunk as usual, but instead of directing it +towards the bun, he deliberately snatched the black velvet cap from +Leo's head and swallowed it with a grunt of displeasure. Leo was first +frightened, and then a good deal annoyed by the universal roar of +laughter which his misfortune occasioned. But he was a good-tempered +boy, and soon joined in the laugh himself. Then, as we could not buy +him a new cap in the Gardens, he was obliged to walk about for the +rest of the time bare-headed; and many were the people who turned +round to look a second time after the beautiful boy with the long fair +hair--a fact of which Master Lionel was not quite unconscious, I +think. + +My aunt kindly pressed us to remain with her over Christmas. I longed +to see the pantomime, having heard much from my cousins and from Leo +of its delights--and of the harlequin, columbine, and clown. But my +father wanted to be at home again, and he took me and Rubens and Nurse +Bundle with him at the end of November. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +POLLY AND I RESOLVE TO BE "VERY RELIGIOUS"--DR. PEPJOHN--THE +ALMS-BOX--THE BLIND BEGGAR + + +I must not forget to speak of an incident which had a considerable +influence on my character at this time. The church which my uncle and +his family "attended," as it was called, was one of those most dreary +places of worship too common at that time, in London and elsewhere. It +was ugly outside, but the outside ugliness was as nothing compared +with the ugliness within. The windows were long and bluntly rounded at +the top, and the sunlight was modified by scanty calico blinds, which, +being yellow with age and smoke, _toned_ the light in rather an +agreeable manner. Mouldings of a pattern one sees about common +fireplaces ran everywhere with praiseworthy impartiality. But the +great principle of the ornamental work throughout was a principle only +too prevalent at the date when this particular church was last "done +up." It was imitations of things not really there, and which would +have been quite out of place if they had been there. For instance, +pillars and looped-up curtains painted on flat walls, with pretentious +shadows, having no reference to the real direction of the light. At +the east end some Hebrew letters, executed as journeymen painters +usually do execute them, had a less cheerful look than the +highly-coloured lion and unicorn on the gallery in front. The clerk's +box, the reading-desk, and the pulpit, piled one above another, had a +symmetrical effect, to which the umbrella-shaped sounding-board above +gave a distant resemblance to a Chinese pagoda. The only things which +gave warmth or colour to the interior as a whole were the cushions and +pew curtains. There were plenty of them, and they were mostly red. +These same curtains added to the sense of isolation, which was already +sufficiently attained by the height of the pew walls and their doors +and bolts. I think it was this--and the fact that, as the congregation +took no outward part in the prayers except that of listening to them, +Polly and I had nothing to do--and we could not even hear the old +gentleman who usually "read prayers"--which led us into the very +reprehensible habit of "playing at houses" in Uncle Ascott's +gorgeously furnished pew. Not that we left our too tightly stuffed +seats for one moment, but as we sat or stood, unable to see anything +beyond the bombazine curtains (which, intervening between us and the +distant parson, made our hearing what he said next to impossible), we +amused ourselves by mentally "pretending" a good deal of domestic +drama, in which the pew represented a house; and we related our +respective "plays" to each other afterwards when we went home. + +Wrong as it was, we did not intend to be irreverent, though I had the +grace to feel slightly shocked when after a cheerfully lighted evening +service, at which the claims of a missionary society had been +enforced, Polly confided to me, with some triumph in her tone, "I +pretended a theatre, and when the man was going round with the box +upstairs, I pretended it was oranges in the gallery." + +I had more than once felt uneasy at our proceedings, and I now told +Polly that I thought it was not right, and that we ought to "try to +attend." I rather expected her to resent my advice, but she said that +she had "sometimes thought it was wrong" herself; and we resolved to +behave better for the future, and indeed really did give up our +unseasonable game. + +Few religious experiences fill one with more shame and self-reproach +than the large results from very small efforts in the right direction. +Polly and I prospered in our efforts to "attend." I may say for myself +that, child as I was, I began to find a satisfaction and pleasure in +going to church, though the place was hideous, the ritual dreary, and +the minister mumbling. When by chance there was a nice hymn, such as, +"Glory to Thee," or "O GOD, our help in ages past," we were quite +happy. We also tried manfully to "attend" to the sermons, which, +considering the length and abstruseness of them, was, I think, +creditable to us. I fear we felt it to be so, and that about this time +we began to be proud of the texts we knew, and of our punctilious +propriety in the family pew, and of the resolve which we had taken in +accordance with my proposal to Polly-- + +"Let us be very religious." + +One Saturday Miss Blomfield was a good deal excited about a certain +clergyman who was to preach in our church next Sunday, and as the +services were now a matter of interest to us, Polly and I were excited +too. I had been troubled with toothache all the week, but this was now +better, and I was quite able to go to church with the rest of the +family. + +The general drift of the sermon, even its text, have long since faded +from my mind; but I do remember that it contained so highly coloured a +peroration on the Day of Judgment and the terrors of Hell, that my +horror and distress knew no bounds; and when the sermon was ended, and +we began to sing, "From lowest depths of woe," I burst into a passion +of weeping. The remarkable part of the incident was that, the rest of +the party having sat with their noses in the air quite undistressed by +the terrible eloquence of the preacher, Aunt Maria never for a moment +guessed at the real cause of my tears. But as soon as we were all in +the carriage (it was a rainy evening, and we had driven to church), +she said-- + +"That poor child will never have a minute's peace while that tooth's +in his head. Thomas! Drive to Dr. Pepjohn's." + +Polly did say, "Is it very bad, Regie?" But Aunt Maria answered for +me--"Can't you see it's bad, child? Leave him alone." + +I was ashamed to confess the real cause of my outburst, and suffered +for my disingenuousness in Dr. Pepjohn's consulting-room. + +"Show Dr. Pepjohn which it is, Regie," said my aunt; and, with tears +that had now become simply hysterical, I pointed to the tooth that had +ached. + +"Just allow me to touch it," said Dr. Pepjohn, inserting his fat +finger and thumb into my mouth. "I won't hurt you, my little man," he +added, with the affable mendaciousness of his craft. Fortunately for +me it was rather loose, and a couple of hard wrenches from the +doctor's expert fingers brought it out. + +"You think me very cruel, now, don't you, my little man?" said the +jocose gentleman, as we were taking leave. + +"I don't think you're cruel," I answered, candidly; "but I think you +tell fibs, for it _did_ hurt." + +The doctor laughed long and loudly, and said I was quite an original, +which puzzled me extremely. Then he gave me sixpence, with which I was +much pleased, and we parted good friends. + +My father was with us on the following Sunday, and he did not go to +the church Aunt Maria went to. I went to the one to which he went. +This church was very well built and appropriately decorated. The music +was good, the responses of the congregation hearty, and the service +altogether was much better adapted to awaken and sustain the interest +of a child than those I had hitherto been to in London. + +"You know we _couldn't_ play houses in the church where Papa goes," I +told Polly on my return, and I was very anxious that she should go +with us to the evening service. She did go, but I am bound to confess +that she decided on a loyal preference for the service to which she +had been accustomed, and, like sensible people, we agreed to differ in +our tastes. + +"There's no clerk at your church, you know," said Polly, to whom a gap +in the threefold ministry of clerk, reader, and preacher, symbolized +by the "three-decker" pulpit, was ill atoned for by the chanting of +the choir. + +In quite a different way, I was as much impressed by the sermons at +the new church as I had been by that which cost me a tooth. + +One sermon especially upon the duties of visiting the sick and +imprisoned, feeding the hungry, and clothing the naked, made an +impression on me that years did not efface. I made the most earnest +resolutions to be active in deeds of kindness "when I was a man," +and, not being troubled by considerations of political economy, I +began my charitable career by dividing what pocket money I had in hand +amongst the street-sweepers and mendicants nearest to our square. + +I soon converted Polly to my way of thinking; and we put up a +money-box in the nursery, in imitation of the alms-box in church. I am +ashamed to confess that I was guilty of the meanness of changing a +sixpence which I had dedicated to our "charity-box" into twelve +half-pence, that I might have the satisfaction of making a dozen +distinct contributions to the fund. + +But, despite all its follies, vanities, and imperfections (and what +human efforts for good are not stained with folly, vanity, and +imperfection?), our benevolence was not without sincerity or +self-denial, and brought its own invariable reward of increased +willingness to do more; according to the deep wisdom of the poet-- + + "In doing is this knowledge won: + To see what yet remains undone." + +We really did forego many a toy and treat to add to our charitable +store; and I began then a habit of taxing what money I possessed, by +taking off a fixed proportion for "charity," which I have never +discontinued, and to the advantages of which I can most heartily +testify. When a self-indulgent civilization goads all classes to live +beyond their incomes, and tempts them not to include the duty of +almsgiving in the expenditure of those incomes, it is well to remove a +due proportion of what one has beyond the reach of the ever-growing +monster of extravagance; and, being decided upon in an unbiased and +calm moment, it is the less likely to be too much for one's domestic +claims, or too little for one's religious duty. It frees one for ever +from that grudging and often comical spasm of meanness which attacks +so many even wealthy people when they are asked to give, because, +among all the large "expenses" to which their goods are willingly made +liable, the expense of giving alms of those goods has never been +fairly counted as an item not less needful, not less imperative, not +less to be felt as a deduction from the remainder, not less life-long +and daily, than the expenses of rent, and dress, and dinner-parties. + +We had, as I say, no knowledge of political economy, and it must be +confessed that the objects of our charity were on more than one +occasion most unworthy. + +"Oh, Regie, dear," Polly cried one day, rushing up to me as she +returned from a walk (I had a cold, and was in the nursery), "there is +such a poor, poor man at the corner of ---- Street. I do think we ought +to give him all that's left in the box. He's quite blind, and he reads +out of a book with such queer letters. It's one of the Gospels, he +says; so he must be very good, for he reads it all day long. And he +can't have any home, for he sits in the street. And he's got a ticket +on his back to say 'Blind,' and 'Taught at the Blind School.' And as I +passed he was reading quite loud. And I heard him say, 'Now Barabbas +was a robber.' Oh, he _is_ such a poor man! And you know, Regie, he +_must_ be good, for _we_ don't sit reading our Bibles all day long." + +I at once gave my consent to the box being emptied in favour of this +very poor and very pious man; and at the first opportunity Polly took +the money to her _protégé_. + +"He was so much pleased!" she reported on her return. "He seemed quite +surprised to get so much. And he said, 'GOD bless you, miss!' I wish +you'd been there, Regie. I said, 'It's not all from me.' He _was_ so +much pleased!" + +"How did he know you were a _miss_, I wonder?" said I. + +"I suppose it was my voice," said Polly, after a pause. + +As soon as I could go out, I went to see the blind man. As I drew +near, he was--as Polly told me--reading aloud. The regularity and +rapidity with which his fingers ran over line after line, as if he +were rubbing out something on a slate, were most striking; and as I +stood beside him I distinctly heard him read the verse, "Now Barabbas +was a robber." It was a startling coincidence to find him still +reading the words which Polly overheard, especially as they were not +in any way remarkably adapted for the subject of a prolonged +meditation. + +Much living alone with grown-up people had, I think, helped towards my +acquiring a habit I had of "brown studying," turning things over, +brewing them, so to speak, in my mind. I stood pondering the +peculiarities of the object of our charity for some moments, during +which he was elaborately occupied in turning over a leaf of his book. +Presently I said-- + +"What makes you say it out loud when you read?" + +He turned his head towards me, blinking and rolling his eyes, and +replied in impressive tones-- + +"It's the pleasure I takes in it, sir." + +Now as he blinked I watched his eyes with mingled terror, pity, and +curiosity. At this moment a stout and charitable-looking old +gentleman was passing, between whom and my blind friend I was +standing. And as he passed he threw the blind man some coppers. But in +the moment before he did so, and when there seemed a possibility of +his passing without what I suspect was a customary dole, such a sharp +expression came into the scarcely visible pupils of the blind man's +half-shut eyes that (never suspecting that his blindness was feigned, +but for the moment convinced that he had seen the old gentleman) I +exclaimed, without thinking of the absurdity of my inquiry-- + +"Was it at the Blind School you learnt to see so well with your blind +eyes?" + +The "very poor man" gave me a most unpleasant glance out of his +"sightless orbs," and taking up his stool, and muttering something +about its being time to go home, he departed. + +Some time afterwards I learnt what led me to believe that he had the +best possible reason for being able to "see so well with his blind +eyes." He was not blind at all. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +VISITING THE SICK + + +I had been quite prepared to find Polly a willing convert to my +charitable schemes, but I had not expected to find in Cousin Helen so +strong an ally as she proved. But our ideas were no novelty to her, as +we soon discovered. In truth, at nine years old, she was a bit of an +enthusiast. She read with avidity religious biographies furnished by +Miss Blomfield. She was delicate in health, but reticent and resolute +in character. She was ready for any amount of self-sacrifice. She +contributed liberally to our box; and I fancy that she and Polly +continued it after I had gone back to Dacrefield. + +My new ideas were not laid aside on my return home. To the best of my +ability I had given Nurse Bundle an epitome of the sermon on +alms--deeds which had so taken my fancy, and I have reason to believe +that she was very proud of my precocious benevolence. Whilst the +subject was under discussion betwixt us, she related many anecdotes of +the good deeds of the "young gentlemen and ladies" in a certain +clergyman's family where she had lived as nursemaid in her younger +days; and my imagination was fired by dreams of soup-cans, coal-clubs, +linsey petticoats comforting the rheumatic limbs of aged women, +opportune blankets in winter, Sunday-school classes, etc., etc. + +"My dear!" said Nurse Bundle, almost with tears in her eyes, "you're +for all the world your dear mamma over again. Keep them notions, my +dear, when you're a grown gentleman, and there'll be a blessing on all +you do. For in all reason it's you that'll have to look to your pa's +property and tenants some time." + +My father, though not himself an adept in the details of what is +commonly called "parish work," was both liberal and kind-hearted. He +liked my knowing the names of his tenants, and taking an interest in +their families. He was well pleased to respond by substantial help +when Nurse Bundle and I pleaded for this sick woman or that unshod +child, as my mother had pleaded in old days. As for Nurse Bundle, she +had a code of virtues for "young ladies and gentlemen," as such, and +charity to the poor was among them. Though I confess that I think she +regarded it more in the light of a grace adorning a certain station, +than as a duty incumbent upon all men. + +So I came to know most of the villagers; and being a quaint child, +with a lively and amusing curiosity, which some little refinement and +good-breeding stayed from degenerating into impertinence, I was, I +believe, very popular. + +One afternoon, during the spring that followed our return from London, +I had strolled out with Rubens, and was bowling my hoop towards one of +the lodges when a poor woman passed by on the drive (which was a +public road through the park), her apron to her face, weeping +bitterly. I stopped her, and asked what was the matter, and finally +made out that she had been to some sale at a farmhouse near, where a +certain large blanket had "gone for" five shillings. That she had +scraped five shillings together, and had intended to bid for it, but +had (with eminent stupidity) managed just to be out of the way when +the blanket was sold; and that it had gone for the very sum she could +have afforded, to another woman who would only part with it for six +and sixpence--eighteenpence more than the price she had paid for it. + +The poor woman wept, and said she had had hard work to "raise" the +five shillings, and could not possibly find one and sixpence more. And +yet she did want the blanket badly, for she had a boy sick in bed, and +his throat was so bad--he suffered a deal from the cold, and there +wasn't a decent "rag of a blanket" in her house. I did not quite +follow her long story, but I gathered that one and sixpence would put +an end to her troubles, and at once offered to fetch her the money. + +"Where do you live?" I asked. + +"The white cottage just beyond the gate, love," she answered. + +"I will bring you the money," said I. For to say the truth, I was +rather pompous and important about my charitable deeds, and did not +dislike playing the part of Sir Bountiful in the cottages. In this +case, too, it was a kindness not to take the woman back to the hall, +for she had left the sick child alone; and when I arrived at the +cottage with the money he complained bitterly at the idea of her +leaving him again to get the blanket. + +"Let me go a minute, love, and I'll fetch Mrs. Taylor to sit with thee +till I get the blanket." + +"I don't want a blanket," fretted the child; "I be too hot as 'tis. I +don't want to be 'lone." + +"If you'll only be a minute, I'll stop with him," said I; and there +was some kindness in the offer, for I was really afraid of the boy +with his heavy angry eyes and fever petulance. The woman gladly +accepted it, and hurried off, despite the child's fretful tears, and +his refusing to see in "the young gentleman's" condescension the +honour which his mother pointed out. No doubt she only meant to be "a +minute," and Mrs. Taylor's dwelling was, to my knowledge, near; but I +suppose she had to tell, and her friends to hear, the whole history of +the sale, her disappointment and subsequent relief, as a preliminary +measure. After which it is probable that Mrs. Taylor had to look at +her pie in the oven, or attend to some similar and pressing domestic +duty before she could leave her house; and so it was nearly half an +hour before they came to my relief. And all this time the sick boy +tossed and moaned, and cried for water. I gave him some from a mug on +the table, not so much from any precocious gift for sick nursing (for +I was simply "frightened out of my wits"), but because the imperative +tone of his demand forced me involuntarily into doing what he wanted. +He grumbled, when between us we spilt the water on his clothes, and +then, soothed for a few seconds, he lay down, till the fever, like a +possessing demon, tossed him about once more, and his throat became as +parched as ever, and again he moaned for "a drink," and we repeated +the process. This time the mug was emptied, and when he called a third +time I could only say, "The mug's empty." + +"There's a pot behind the door," he muttered, impatiently; "look +sharp!" + +Now food, and drink, and all other necessaries of life came to me +without effort or seeking, and I was as little accustomed as any other +rich man's son to forage for supplies; but on this occasion +circumstances forced out of me a helpfulness which necessity early +teaches to the poor. I became dimly cognizant of the fact that water +does not spring spontaneously in carafes, nor take a delicate colour +and flavour in toast-and-water jugs of itself. I found the water-pot, +replenished the mug, and went back to my patient. By the time his +mother returned I had become quite clever in checking the spasmodic +clutches which spilt the cold water into his neck. + +From what Mrs. Taylor said to her friend, it was evident that she +disapproved in some way of my presence, and the boy's mother replied +to her whispered remonstrances, "I was _that_ put out, I never +thought;" which I have no doubt was strictly true. + +As I afterwards learnt, she got the blanket, and never ceased to laud +my generosity. + +I was rather proud of it myself, and it was not without complacency +that I recounted to Nurse Bundle my first essay in "visiting the +sick." + +But complacency was the last feeling my narrative awoke in Mrs. +Bundle. She was alarmed out of all presence of mind; and her +indignation with the woman who had requited my kindness by allowing me +to go into a house infected with fever knew no bounds. She had no pity +to spare for her when the news reached us that the child was dead. + +Nothing further came of it for some time. Days passed, and it was +almost forgotten, only I became decidedly ill-tempered. A captious +irritability possessed me, alternating with fits of unaccountable +fatigue. At that time I was always either tired or cross, and +sometimes both. I must have made Nurse Bundle very uncomfortable. I +was so little happy, for my own share, that when after a day's +headache I was put to bed as an invalid, it was a delicious relief to +be acknowledged to be ill, to throw off clothes and occupation, and +shut my eyes and be nursed. + +This happiness lasted for about half an hour. Then I began to shiver, +and, through no lack of blankets my teeth were soon chattering and the +bed shaking under me, as it had been with the village boy. But when +this was succeeded by burning heat, and intolerable, consuming +restlessness, I would have been glad to shiver again. And then my mind +wandered with a restlessness more intolerable than the tossing of my +body; and all boundaries of time, and place, and person became +confused and indefinitely extended, and hot hours were like ages, and +I thought I was that other boy, and that myself would not wait upon +him; and the only sensible words I spoke were cries for drink; and so +the fever got me fairly into its clutches. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +"PEACE BE TO THIS HOUSE" + + +I can appreciate now what my father and Nurse Bundle must have +suffered during my dangerous illness. It was not a common tie that +bound my father's affections to my life. Not only was I his son, I was +his only son. Moreover, I was the only living child of the beloved +wife of his youth--all that remained to him of my fair mother. Then I +was the heir to his property, the hope of his family, and, without +undue egotism, I may say, from what I have been told, that I was a +quaint, original, and (thanks to Mrs. Bundle) not ill-behaved child, +and that, for a while at least, I should have been much missed in the +daily life of the household. + +Mrs. Cadman told me, long afterwards, exactly how many days and nights +Nurse Bundle passed in my sick chamber, "and never had her clothes +off;" and if the wearing of clothes had been one of the sharpest +torments of the Inquisition, Mrs. Cadman could not have spoken in a +hollower tone, or thrown more gloom round the announcement. + +That, humanly speaking, my good and loving nurse saved my life, I must +ever remember with deep gratitude. There are stages of fever, when, as +they say, "a nurse is everything;" and a very little laziness, +selfishness, or inattention on Nurse Bundle's part would probably +have been my death-warrant. But night and day she never relaxed her +vigilance for one instant of the crisis of my malady. She took nothing +for granted, would trust no one else, but herself saw every order of +the doctor carried out, and, at a certain stage, fed me every ten +minutes, against my will, coaxing me to obedience, and never losing +heart or temper for one instant. And this although my petulance and +not infrequent assurances that I wished and preferred to die--"I was +so tired"--within the sick room, and my father's despair and bitter +groan that he would sacrifice every earthly possession to keep me +alive, outside it, would have caused many people to lose their heads. +In such an hour many a foolish, gossiping, half-educated woman, by +absolute faithfulness to the small details of her trust, by the +complete laying aside of personal needs and personal feelings, rises +to the sublimity of duty, and, ministering to the wants of another +with an unselfish vigilance almost perfect, earns that meed of praise +from men, which from time to time persists, in grateful hyperbole, to +liken her sex to the angels. + +My poor father, whose irrepressible distress led to his being +forbidden to enter my room, powerless to help, and therefore without +alleviation for his anxiety, simply hung upon Nurse Bundle's orders +and reports, and relied utterly on her. Fortunately for his own +health, she gained sufficient influence to insist, almost as +peremptorily as in my case, upon his taking food. Often afterwards did +she describe how he and Rubens sat outside the door they were not +allowed to enter; and she used to declare that when she came out, +Rubens, as well as my father, turned an anxious and expectant +countenance towards her, and that both alike seemed to await and to +understand her report of my condition. + +Only once did Nurse Bundle's self-possession threaten to fail her. It +was on my repeated and urgent request to "have the clergyman to pray +with me." + +Mrs. Bundle, like most uneducated people, rather regarded the +visitation of the sick by the parish clergyman as a sort of extreme +unction or last sacrament. And to send for the parson seemed to her +tantamount to dismissing the doctor and ringing the passing bell. My +father was equally averse from the idea on other grounds. Moreover, +our old rector had gone, and the lately-appointed one was a stranger, +and rather an eccentric stranger, by all accounts. + +For my own part, I had a strong interest in the new rector. His +Christian name was the same as my own, which I felt to constitute a +sort of connection; and the tales I had heard in the village of his +peculiarities had woven a sort of ecclesiastical romance about him in +my mind. He had come from some out-of-the-way parish in the west of +England, where his people, being thoroughly used to his ways, took +them as a matter of course. It was his scrupulous custom to conform as +minutely as possible to the canons of the Church, as well as to the +rubrics of the Prayer Book, and this to the point of wearing shoes +instead of boots. He was a learned man, a naturalist, and an +antiquarian. His appearance was remarkable, his hair being prematurely +white, and yet thick, his eyes grey and expressive, with thick dark +eyebrows, which actually met above them. For the rest, he was tall, +thin, and dressed in obedience to the canons. I had been much +interested in all that I had heard of him, and since my illness I had +often thought of the unqualified note of praise I had heard sounded in +his favour by more than one village matron, "He's beautiful in a +sick-room." It was on one occasion when I heard this that I also heard +that he was accustomed on entering the house to pronounce the +appointed salutation, in the words of the Prayer Book, "Peace be to +this house, and to all that dwell in it." And so it came about that, +when my importunity and anxiety on the subject had overcome the +scruples of my father and nurse, and they had decided to let me have +my way rather than increase my malady by fretting, the new rector came +into my room, and my first eager question was, "Did you say +that--about Peace, you know--when you came in?" + +"I did," said the rector; and as he spoke one of his merits became +obvious. He had a most pleasing voice. + +"Say it again!" I cried, petulantly. + +"Peace be to this house, and to all that dwell in it," he repeated +slowly, and with slightly upraised hand. + +"That's Rubens and all," was my comment. + +As I wished, the rector prayed by my bedside; and I think he must have +been rather astonished by the fact that at points which struck me I +rather groaned than said, "Amen." The truth is, I had once happened to +go into a cottage where our old rector was praying by the bed of a +sick old man--a Methodist--who groaned "Amen" at certain points in a +manner which greatly impressed me, and I now did likewise, in that +imitativeness of childhood which had helped to lead me to the fancy +for surrounding my own sick bed with all the circumstances I had seen +and heard of in such cases in the village. For this reason I had (to +her hardly concealed distress) given Nurse Bundle, from time to time, +directions as to my wishes in the event of my death. I remember +especially, that I begged she would not fail to cover up all the +furniture with white cloths, and to allow all my friends to come and +see me in my coffin. Thus also I groaned and said "Amen"--"like a poor +person"--at what I deemed suitable points, as the rector prayed. + +He was not less wise in a sick room than Mrs. Bundle herself. He +contrived to quieten instead of exciting me, and to the sound of his +melodious voice reading in soothing monotone from my favourite book of +the Bible--the Revelation of St. John the Divine--I finally fell +asleep. + +When the inspired description of the New Jerusalem ended, and my own +dream began, I never knew. As I dreamed, it seemed a wonderful and +beautiful vision, though all that I could ever remember of it in +waking hours was the sheerest nonsense. + +And this was the beginning of my acquaintance with the Rev. Reginald +Andrewes. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +CONVALESCENCE--MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS--THE JOURNEY TO OAKFORD--OUR +WELCOME + + +On the day when I first left my sick room, and was moved to a sofa in +what had been my poor mother's boudoir, my father put fifty pounds +into Nurse Bundle's hand, and sent another fifty to Mr. Andrewes for +some communion vessels for the church, on which the rector had set his +heart. They were both thank-offerings. + +"I owe my son's recovery to GOD, and to you, Mrs. Bundle," said my +father, with a certain elaborateness of speech to which he was given +on important occasions. "No money could purchase such care as you +bestowed on him, and no money can reward it; but it will be doing me a +farther favour to allow me to think that, should sickness ever +overtake yourself when we are no longer together, this little sum, +laid by, may come in useful, and afford you a few comforts." + +That first evening of my convalescence we were quite jubilant; but +afterwards there were many weary days of weakness, irritability, and +_ennui_ on my part, and anxiety and disappointment on my father's. +Rubens was a great comfort at this period. For his winning ways formed +an interest, and served a little to vary the monotony of the hours +when I was too weak to bear any definite amusement or occupation. It +must have been about this time that a long cogitation with myself led +to the following conversations with Nurse Bundle and my father:-- + +"How old are you, Nurse?" I inquired, one forenoon, when she had +neatly arranged the tray containing my chop, wine, etc., by my chair. + +"Five-and-fifty, love, come September," said Nurse Bundle. + +"Do people ever marry when they are five-and-fifty, papa?" I asked +that evening, as I lay languid and weary on the sofa. + +"Yes, my dear boy, sometimes. But why do you want to know?" + +"I think I shall marry Nurse Bundle when I am old enough," I said, +with almost melancholy gravity. "She's a good deal older than I am; +but I love her very much. And she would make me very comfortable. She +knows my ways." + +My father has often told me that he would have laughed aloud, but for +the sad air of utter weariness over my helpless figure, the painful, +unchildlike anxiousness on my thin face, and in my old-fashioned air +and attitude. I have myself quite forgotten the occurrence. + +At last this most trying time was over, but the fever had left me +taller, weaker, and much in need of what doctors call "tone." All +concerned in the care of me were now unanimous in declaring that I +must have a "change of air." + +There was some little difficulty in deciding where to go. Another +visit to Aunt Maria was out of the question. Even if London had been a +suitable place, the fear of infection for my cousins made it not to be +thought of. + +"Where would _you_ like to go, Nurse?" I inquired one evening, as we +all sat in the boudoir discussing the topic of the day. + +"I should like to go wherever it's best for your good health, Master +Reginald," was Nurse Bundle's answer, which, though admirable in its +spirit, did not further the settlement of the matter we found it so +difficult to decide. + +"But where would you like to go for yourself?" I persisted. "Where +would you go if it was you going away, and nobody else?" + +"Well, my dear, if it was me just going away for myself, I think I +should go to my sister's at Oakford." + +This reply drew from me a catechism of questions about Oakford, and +Nurse Bundle's sister, and Nurse Bundle's sister's husband, and their +children; and when my father came to sit with me I had a long history +of Oakford and Nurse Bundle's relatives at my fingers' ends, and was +full of a new fancy, which was strong upon me, to go and stay for +awhile at Oakford with Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Buckle. + +"Nurse says they sometimes let lodgings," I said; "and I should like +Nurse to see her sister; and," I candidly added, "I should like to see +her myself." + +My father's uppermost wish was to please me; and as Oakford was known +to be healthy, and the doctor favoured the proposition, it was decided +according to my wishes. If we stayed long, my father was to go +backwards and forwards, and he was to fetch us when we went away. His +anxiety was still so great, and led him to watch me in a manner which +fidgeted me so much, that I think the doctor was only too glad that +the place should be sufficiently near to induce him to leave me to +the care of Nurse Bundle. + +We went by coach to Oakford. I was not allowed to sit outside on this +journey. It was only a short one, however; and, truth to say, I did +not feel strong enough for any feats of energy, and went meekly enough +into that stuffy hole, the inside! Before following me, Nurse Bundle +gave some directions to the driver, of a kind that could only be +effectual in reference to a small place where everybody was known. + +"Coachman! Oakford! And drop us at Mr. Buckle's, please, the saddler." + +"High Street, isn't it?" said the fat coachman, looking down on Mrs. +Bundle exactly as a parrot looks down from his perch. + +"To be sure; only three doors below the 'Crown.'" + +With which Mrs. Bundle gathered up her skirts, and her worsted +workbag, and clambered into the coach. + +There were two other "insides." One of these never spoke at all during +the journey. The other only spoke once, and he seems to have been +impelled thereto by a three hours' contemplation of the contrast +between my slim, wasted little figure, and Nurse Bundle's portly +person, as we sat opposite to him. He was a Scotchman, and I fancy "in +business." + +"You're weel matched to sit on the one side," was his remark. + +Once, when I was feeling faint, he opened the window without my having +spoken, and only acknowledged my thanks by a silent nod. When the +coach stopped in the High Street of Oakford, and Nurse Bundle had +descended, he so far relaxed, as he handed out me and the worsted +workbag, as to indulge his national thirst for general information by +the inquiring remark: + +"You'll be staying at the 'Crown' the night, mem?" + +"No, sir. We stop here," said Nurse Bundle. + +I caught his keen blue eye at the window whilst the coach was delayed +by the getting out of our luggage. I do not think he missed one +feature of our welcome on the threshold of the saddler's shop. + +I feel sure that Scotchmen do greatly profit by the habit they have of +"absorbing into their constitutions," so to speak, all the facts of +every kind that come within their ken. They "go in for general +information," like the Tom Toddy in Mr. Kingsley's 'Water Babies;' but +their hard heads have, fortunately, no likeness to turnips. + +This, however, is a digression. + +Mr. Benjamin Buckle, Mrs. Benjamin Buckle, Jemima Buckle, their +daughter, Mr. Buckle's apprentice, and the "general girl," or +maid-of-all-work, were all in the shop to receive us. I believe the +cat was the only living creature in the house who was not there. But +cats seldom exert themselves unnecessarily on behalf of other people, +and she awaited our arrival upstairs. I had a severe if not +undignified struggle with the string before I could get my hat off. +Then I advanced, and, holding out my hand to Mr. Buckle, said, + +"Mr. Buckle, I believe?" + +[Illustration: "Mr. Buckle, I believe?"] + +"The same to you, sir, and a many of them," said Mr. Buckle, hastily; +being, I fancy, rather put out by the touch of my frail hand, which +was certainly very unlike the leather he handled daily. He saw his +mistake, and added quickly, + +"Your servant, sir. I hope your health's better, sir?" + +"Very well, thank you," said I (all children make that answer, I +think). + +"What a little gentleman!" said Mrs. Buckle, in an audible "aside" to +my nurse. She was as good-natured a woman as Mrs. Bundle herself, but +with less brains. She lived in a chronic state of surprises and +superlatives. + +"You are Nurse's sister, aren't you, please?" I asked, going up to +her, and once more tendering my hand. "I wanted to see you very much." + +"Now just to think of that, Jemima! did you ever?" cried Mrs. Buckle. + +"La!" said Jemima; in acknowledgment of which striking remark, I bent +my head, and said, + +"How do you do, Jemima?" adding, almost without an instant's pause, +"Please take me away, Nurse! I am so very tired." + +By one immediate and unbroken action, Mrs. Bundle cut her way through +our hospitable friends and the scattered rolls of leather and other +trade accessories in the shop, and conveyed me into an arm-chair in +the sitting-room upstairs, where I sat, the tears running down my face +for very weakness. + +I had longed for the novelty of a residence above a saddler's shop; +but now, too weary for new experiences, I was only conscious that the +stairs were narrow, the room dingy and vulgar after the rooms at home, +and as I wept I wished I had never come. + +At this day, I am glad that I had the courtesy to restrain my +feelings, and not to damp the delighted welcome of Nurse and her +friends by an insulting avowal of my disappointment. I really was not +a spoilt child; and indeed, the insolent and undisciplined egotism of +many children "now-a-days," was not often tolerated by the past +generation. As I sat silent and sad, Nurse Bundle ransacked her bag, +muttering, "What a fool I be, to be sure!" and anon produced a flask +of wine, from which she filled a wine-glass with a very big leg, which +was one of the chimney ornaments. I emptied it in obedience to her +orders, and in a few minutes my tears ceased, and I began to take a +more cheerful view of the wallpaper and the antimacassars. + +"What a pretty cat!" I said, at last. The said cat, a beauty, was +lying on the hearthrug. + +"Isn't it a beauty, love?" said Nurse Bundle; "and look, my dear, at +your own little dog lying as good as gold in the rocking-chair, and +not so much as looking at puss." + +Rubens did not _quite_ deserve this panegyric. He lay in his chair +without touching puss, it is true; but he kept his eye firmly and +constantly fixed upon her, only restrained from an attack by my known +objection to such proceedings, and by the immovable composure of the +good lady herself. Half a movement of encouragement on my part, half a +movement of flight on the cat's, and Rubens would have been after her. +All this was so plainly expressed in his attitude, that I burst out +laughing. Rubens chose to take this as a sound to the chase, and only +by the most peremptory orders could I induce him to keep quiet. As to +the cat, I saw one convulsive twitch of the very tip of her tail, +eloquent of wrath; otherwise she never moved. + +"Now, my dear," said Mrs. Bundle, "suppose you come upstairs to bed, +and get a good night's rest. I can hear Jemima a-shaking of the coals +in the warming-pan now, on the stairs." + +Warming-pans were not much used at home, and I was greatly interested +in the brazen implement which Jemima wielded so dexterously. + +"It's like an ironing cloth," was my comment when I got between the +sheets. I had often warmed my hands on the table where Nurse ironed my +collars at home. + +Rubens duly came to bed; and I fell asleep, well satisfied on the +whole with Oakford and the saddler's household. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE TINSMITH'S--THE BEAVER BONNETS--A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING--I FAIL +TO SECURE A SISTER--RUBENS AND THE DOLL + + +Oakford was not a large town. It only boasted of one street, "to be +called a street," as Mr. Buckle phrased it, though two or three lanes, +with more or less pretentious rows of houses, and so forth, ran at +right angles to the High Street. The High Street was a steep hill. It +was tolerably broad, very clean, pebbled and picturesque. The "Crown +Inn" was an old house with an historical legend attached to it. +Several of the shops were also in very old houses, with overhanging +upper stories and most comfortable window seats. Mr. Buckle's was one +of these. + +The air of the place was keen, but very healthy, and I seemed to gain +strength with every hour of my stay. With strength, all my interest in +the novelty of the situation woke afresh, and I was delighted with +everything, but especially with the shop. + +On the subject of the saddlery business, I must confess that a +difference of opinion existed between myself and my excellent nurse. +She jealously maintained my position as a "young gentleman" and +lodger, against the familiarity into which the Buckles and I fell by +common consent. She served my meals in separate state, and kept +Jemima as well as herself in attendance on my wants. She made my +sitting-room as comfortable as she could, and here it was her wish +that I should sit, when in the house, "like a young gentleman." My +wish, on the contrary, was to be in the shop, and as much as possible +like a grown-up saddler. It did seem so delightful to be always +working at that nice-smelling leather, and to be able to make for +oneself unlimited straps, whips, and other masculine appendages. I was +perfectly happy with spare fragments, cutting out miniature saddles +and straps, stamping lines, punching holes, and mislaying the good +saddler's tools in these efforts; whilst my thoughts were occupied +with many a childish plan for inducing my father to apprentice me to +the worthy Mr. Buckle. + +I was a good deal taken with Mr. Buckle's apprentice, a rosy-cheeked +young man, whose dress and manners I endeavoured as much as possible +to imitate. I strutted in imitation of his style of walking down the +High Street, and about this time Nurse Bundle was wont to say she +"couldn't think what had come to" my hat, that it was "always stuck on +one side." Pondering the history of Dick Whittington and the fair +Alice, I said one day to Jemima Buckle, + +"I suppose you and Andrew will marry, and when Mr. Buckle dies you +will have the shop?" + +"Me marry the 'prentice!" said Miss Jemima. And I discovered how +little I knew of the shades of "caste" in Oakford. + +Jemima used often to take me out when Nurse Bundle was otherwise +engaged, and we were always very good friends. One day, I remember, +she was going to a shop about half way up the High Street, and I +obtained leave to go with her. Mrs. Bundle was busy superintending the +cooking of some special delicacy for her "young gentleman's" dinner, +and Jemima and I set forth on our errand. It was to a tinsmith's shop, +where a bath had been ordered for my accommodation. + +Ah! through how many years that steep street, with its clean, sunny +stones, its irregular line of quaint old buildings, and the distant +glimpse of big trees within palings into which it passed at the top, +where the town touched the outskirts of some gentleman's place, has +remained on my mind like a picture! Getting a little vague after a few +years, and then perhaps a little altered, as fancy almost +involuntarily supplied the defects of memory; but still that steep +street, that tinsmith's shop--_the_ features of Oakford! + +I have since thought that Jemima must have had some special attraction +to the tinsmith's, her errands there were so many, and took so much +time. This occasion may be divided into three distinct periods. During +the first, I waited in that state of vacant patience whereby one +endures other people's shopping. During the second, I walked round all +the cans, pans, colanders, and graters, and took a fancy to a tin mug. +It was neither so valuable nor so handsome as the silver mug with +dragon handles given me by my Indian godfather, but it was a novelty. +When I looked closer, however, I found that it was marked, in plain +figures, fourpence, which at that time was beyond my means; so I +walked to the door, that I might solace the third period by looking +out into the street. As I looked, there came down the hill a fine, +large, sleek donkey, led by an old man-servant, and having on its back +what is called a Spanish saddle, in which two little girls sat side +by side, the whole party jogging quietly along at a foot's pace in the +sunshine. I may say here that my experience of little girls had been +almost entirely confined to my cousins, and that I was so overwhelmed +and impressed by the loveliness of these two children, and by their +quaint, queenly little ways, that time has not dimmed one line in the +picture that they then made upon my mind. I can see them now as +clearly as I saw them then, as I stood at the tinsmith's door in the +High Street of Oakford--let me see, how many years ago? ("Never mind," +says my wife; "go on with the story, my dear," and I go on.) + +The child who looked the older, but was, as I afterwards discovered, +the younger of the two, was also the less pretty. And yet she had a +sweet little face, hair like spun gold, and blue-grey eyes with dark +lashes. She wore a grey frock of some warm material, below which +peeped her indoors dress of blue. The outer coat had a quaint cape +like a coachman's, which was relieved by a broad white crimped frill +round her throat. Her legs were cased in knitted gaiters of white +wool, and her hands in the most comical miniatures of gloves. On her +fairy head she wore a large bonnet of grey beaver, with a frill +inside. (My wife explains that it was a "cap-front," adorned with +little bunches of ribbon, and having a cap attached to it, the whole +being put on separately before the bonnet. Details which seem to amuse +my little daughters, and to have less interest for my sons.) But it +was her sister who shone on my young eyes like a fairy vision. She +looked too delicate, too brilliant, too utterly lovely, for anywhere +but fairy-land. She ought to have been kept in tissue-paper, like the +loveliest of wax dolls. Her hair was the true flaxen, the very fairest +of the fair. The purity and vividness of the tints of red and white in +her face I have never seen equalled. Her eyes were of speedwell blue, +and looked as if they were meant to be always more or less brimming +with tears. To say the truth, her face had not half the character +which gave force to that of the other little damsel, but a certain +helplessness about it gave it a peculiar charm. She was dressed +exactly like the other, with one exception; her bonnet was of white +beaver, and she became it like a queen. + +At the tinsmith's door they stopped, and the old man-servant, after +unbuckling a strap which seemed to support them in their saddle, +lifted each little miss in turn to the ground. Once on the pavement, +the little lady of the grey beaver shook herself out, and proceeded to +straighten the disarranged overcoat of her companion, and then, taking +her by the hand, the two clambered up the step into the shop. The +tinsmith's shop boasted of two seats, and on to one of these she of +the grey beaver with some difficulty climbed. The eyes of the other +were fast filling with tears, when from her lofty perch the sister +caught sight of the man-servant, who stood in the doorway, and she +beckoned him with a wave of her tiny finger. + +"Lift her up, if you please," she said, on his approach. And the other +child was placed on the other chair. + +The shopman appeared to know them, and though he smiled, he said very +respectfully, + +"What article can I show you this morning, ladies?" + +The fairy-like creature in the white beaver, who had been fumbling in +her miniature glove, now timidly laid a farthing on the counter, and +then turning her back for very shyness on the shopman, raised one +small shoulder, and inclining her head towards it, gave an appealing +glance at her sister out of the pale-blue eyes. That little lady, thus +appealed to, firmly placed another farthing on the board, and said in +the tiniest but most decided of voices, + + "TWO FLAT IRONS, IF YOU PLEASE." + +Hereupon the shopman produced a drawer from below the counter, and set +it before them. What it contained I was not tall enough to see, but +out of it he took several tiny flat irons of triangular shape, and +apparently made of pewter, or some alloy of tin. These the grey beaver +examined and tried upon a corner of her cape with inimitable gravity +and importance. At last she selected two, and keeping one for herself, +gave the other to her sister. + +"Is it a nice one?" the little white-beavered lady inquired. + +"Very nice." + +"_Kite_ as nice as yours?" she persisted. + +"Just the same," said the other, firmly. And having glanced at the +corner to see that the farthings were both duly deposited, she rolled +abruptly over on her seat, and scrambled off backwards, a manoeuvre +which the other child accomplished with more difficulty. The coats and +capes were then put tidy as before, and the two went out of the shop +together hand in hand. + +Then the old man-servant lifted them into the Spanish saddle, and +buckled the strap, and away they went up the steep street, and over +the brow of the hill, where trees and palings began to show, the +beaver bonnets nodding together in consultation over the flat irons. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE LITTLE LADIES AGAIN--THE MEADS--THE DROWNED DOLL + + +"Mr. Buckle, sir, can you oblige me with eight farthings for +twopence?" + +I had closely copied this form of speech from the apprentice, whose +ways, as I have said, I endeavoured in every way to imitate. Thus, +twopence being at that time the extent of my resources, I went about +for some days after my adventure at the tinsmith's with all my worldly +wealth in my pocket in farthings, pondering many matters. + +[Illustration: She rolled abruptly over on her seat and scrambled off +backwards.] + +I began to have my doubts about saddlery as a profession. Truth to +say, a want beyond the cutting and punching of leather had begun to +stir within me. I wished for a sister. Somehow I had never desired to +adopt one of my cousins in this relation, not even my dear friend +Polly; but since I had seen the little lady in the white beaver, I +felt how nice it would be to have such a sister to play with, as I had +heard of other sisters and brothers playing together. Then I fancied +myself showing her all my possessions at home, and begging the like +for her from my indulgent father. I pictured the new interest which my +old toys would derive from being exhibited to her. I thought I would +beg for an exhibition of the magic lantern, for a garden for her +like my own, and for several half-holidays. It delighted me to imagine +myself presenting her with whatever she most admired, like some +Eastern potentate or fairy godmother. But I could not connect her in +my mind with the saddlery business. I felt that to possess so dainty +and elegant a little lady as a sister was incompatible with an +apprenticeship to Mr. Buckle. + +Meanwhile I kept watch on the High Street from Mr. Buckle's door. One +morning I saw the donkey, the man, the Spanish saddle, and the beaver +bonnets come over the brow of the hill, and I forthwith ran to Nurse +Bundle, and begged leave to go alone to the tinsmith's, and invest one +of my eight farthings in a flat iron. It was only a few yards off, and +she consented; but, as I had to submit to be dressed, by the time I +got there the little ladies were already in the shop, and seated on +the two chairs. My fairy beauty looked round as I came in, and +recognizing me, gave a little low laugh, and put her head on her own +shoulder, and then peeped again, smiling so sweetly that I fairly +loved her. The other was too deeply engaged in poking and fumbling for +farthings in her glove to permit herself to be distracted by anything +or anybody. This process was so slow that the shopman came up to me +and asked what I wanted. I took a well-warmed farthing from the +handful I carried, and laid it on the counter, saying-- + +"A flat iron, if you please." + +He put several before me, and after making a show of testing them on +the end of my comforter, I selected one at random. I know that I did +not do it with half the air which the little grey-beavered lady had +thrown over the proceeding, but I hardly deserved the scornful tone in +which she addressed no one in particular with the remark, "He has no +business with flat irons. He's only a boy." + +She evidently expected no reply, for without a pause she proceeded to +count out five farthings on to the counter, saying as she did so, "A +frying-pan, a gridiron, a dish, and two plates, if you please." On +which, to my astonishment, miniature specimens of these articles, made +of the same material as the flat irons, were produced from the box +whence those had come. I was so bewildered by the severity of the +little lady's remarks, and the wonderful things which she obtained for +her farthings, that I dropped my remaining seven on to the shop floor, +and was still grubbing for them in the dust, when the children having +finished their shopping, came backwards off the seats as usual. They +passed me in the doorway, hand in hand. The little lady with the white +beaver was next to me, and as she passed she gave a shy glance, and +her face dimpled all over into smiles. Unspeakably pleased by her +recognition, I abandoned my farthings to their fate, and jumping up, I +held out my dusty hand to the little damsel, saying hastily but as +civilly as I could, "How do you do? I hope you're pretty well. And oh, +please, _will_ you be my sister?" + +Having once begun, I felt quite equal to a full explanation of my +position and the prospect of toys and treats before us both. I was +even prepared, in the generous excitement of the moment to endow my +new sister with a joint partnership in the possession of Rubens, and +was about to explain all the advantages the little lady would derive +from having me for a brother, when I was stopped by the changed +expression on her pretty face. + +I suppose my sudden movement had startled her, for her smiles vanished +in a look of terror, as she clung to her companion, who opened wide +her eyes, and shaking her grey beaver vehemently, said, "We don't know +you, Boy!" + +Then they fled to the side of the old man-servant as fast as their +white-gaitered legs would carry them. + +I watered the dusty floor of the shop with tears of vexation as I +resumed my search for the farthings, and having found them I went back +to the saddler's, pounding them in my hot hand, and bitterly +disappointed. + +I don't suppose that Rubens understood the feelings which gave an +extra warmth to my caresses, as I hugged him in my arms, exclaiming, + +"_You_ aren't afraid of me, you dear thing!" + +But he responded sympathetically, both with tongue and tail. + +I had not frightened the little ladies away from the High Street, it +seemed. I saw them again two days later. They had been out as usual, +and some trifling mischance having happened to the Spanish saddle, +they called at Mr. Buckle's door for repairs. I was in the shop, and +could see the two little maidens as they sat hanging over their strap, +with a doll dressed very much like themselves between them. I crept +nearer to the door, where the quick grey eyes of the younger one +caught sight of me, and I heard her say in her peculiarly trenchant +tones-- + +"Why, there's that Boy again!" + +I slipped a little to one side, and took up a tool and a bit of +leather with a pretence of working, hoping to be out of sight, and +yet to be able to look at the little white-beavered fairy, for whom my +fancy was in no way abated. But her keen-eyed sister saw me still, and +her next remark rang out with uncompromising distinctness-- + +"He's in the shop still. He's working. He must be a shop-boy!" + +I dropped the tools, and rushed away to my sitting-room. My +mortification was complete, and it was of a kind that Rubens could not +understand. Fortunately for me, he simply went with my humour, without +being particular as to the reason of it, like the tenderest of women. + +A day or two afterwards I went out with Rubens and Jemima Buckle for a +walk. Our way home lay through some flat green meads, crossed by a +stream, which, in its turn, was crossed by a little rustic bridge. As +we came into these fields we met a man whose face seemed familiar, +though I could not at first recall where I had seen him. Afterwards I +remembered that he was the tinsmith, and Jemima stayed to chat with +him for a few minutes, but Rubens and I strolled on. + +It seemed an odd coincidence that, a few seconds after meeting the +tinsmith, I should meet the little white-beavered lady. She was +crossing the bridge. Her sister was not with her, nor the donkey, nor +the man-servant. She was walking with a nurse, and she carried a big +doll in her arms. The doll, as I have said before, was "got up" +wonderfully like its mistress. It had a miniature coat and cape and +frills, it had leggings, it had a white plush bonnet (so my wife +enables me to affirm), it had hair just the colour of the little +lady's locks. + +As she crossed the bridge, she seemed much pleased by the running of +the water beneath her feet, and saying, "Please let Dolly 'ook," in +her pretty broken tones, she pushed her doll through the rustic work, +holding it by its sash. But, alas! the doll was heavy, and the sash +insecurely fastened. It gave way, and the doll plunged into the +stream. + +Once more the sweet little face was convulsed by a look of terror and +distress. As the doll floated out on the other side of the bridge, she +shrieked and wrung her hands. As for me, I ran down to the edge of the +stream, calling Rubens after me, and pointing to the doll. Only too +glad of an excuse for a plunge, in he dashed, and soon brought the +unfortunate miss to shore by one of her gaitered legs. It was with +some triumph that I carried the dripping doll to its little mistress, +and heard the nurse admonish her to-- + +"Thank the young gentleman, my dear." + +I have often since heard of faces "like an April sky," but I never saw +one which did so resemble it in being by turns bright and overcast, +with tears and smiles struggling together, and fear and pleased +recognition, as the face of the little blonde in the white beaver +bonnet. It was she who held out her hand this time, and as I took it +she said, "'ank you 'erry much." + +"It was Rubens' doing, not mine," said I. "Rubens! shake hands, sir!" + +But the little lady was frightened. She shrank away from the warm +greeting of Rubens, and I was obliged to shake hands with him myself +to satisfy his feelings. + +The nursemaid had been wringing out the doll's clothes for the little +lady, but now they moved on together. + +"Dood-bye!" said the little lady, smiling and waving her hand. I +waved mine, and then Jemima, having parted with the tinsmith, came up, +and we went home. + +I never saw the beaver bonnets again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +POLLY--THE PEW AND THE PULPIT--THE FATE OF THE FLAT IRON + + +By the time that my father came to fetch us away, I was wonderfully +improved in health and strength. I even wanted to go back outside the +coach; but this was not allowed. + +I did not forget the little lady in the white beaver, even after my +return to Dacrefield. I was fond of drawing, and I made what seemed to +me a rather striking portrait of her (at least as to colouring), and +wore it tied by a bit of string round my neck. It is unromantic to +have to confess that it fell at last into the washhand basin, and was +reduced to pulp. + +I brought my farthing flat-iron home with me, and it was for long a +favourite plaything. I used to sprinkle corners of my pocket-handkerchief +with water, as I had seen Nurse Bundle "damp fine things" before ironing +them. But after all, "play" of this kind is dull work played alone. I was +very glad when Polly came. + +It was a few weeks after our return that my father proposed to ask +Cousin Polly to pay us a visit. I think my aunt had said something in +a letter about her not being well, and the visit was supposed to be +for the benefit of her health. + +She was not ill for long at Dacrefield. My "lessons" were of a very +slight description as yet, and we spent most of our time out of doors. +The fun of showing Polly about the farm and grounds was quite as +satisfactory as any that my dream of the flaxen-haired sister had +promised. I was quite prepared to yield to Cousin Polly in all things +as before; but she, no doubt in deference to my position as host, met +me halfway with unusual affability and graciousness. Country life +exactly suited her. I think she was profoundly happy exploring the +garden, making friends with the cows and horses, feeding the rabbits +and chickens, and "playing at haunted castles" in the barn. + +Her vigour and daring when we climbed trees together were the objects +of my constant admiration. Tree-climbing was Polly's favourite +amusement, and the various fancies she "pretended" in connection with +it, did credit to her imaginative powers. Sometimes she "pretended" to +be Jack in the Beanstalk; sometimes she pretended to be at the +mast-head of a ship at sea; sometimes to be in an upper story of a +fairy-house; sometimes to be escaping from a bear; sometimes (with +recollections of London) to be the bear himself on a pole, or a monkey +in the Zoological Gardens; or to be on the top of the Monument or of +St. Paul's. Our most common game, however, was the time-honoured drama +of "houses." Each branch constituted a story, and we used to emulate +each other in our exploits of high climbing, with a formula that ran +thus:-- + +"Now I'm in the area" (the lowest branch). "Now I'm on the dining-room +floor" (the next), and so on, ending with, "And now I'm the very poor +person in the garret." + +There were two trees which stood near each other, of about equal +difficulty. + +We used each to climb one, and as we started together, the one who +first became the "very poor person in the garret" was held to be the +winner of the game. + +We were not allowed to climb trees on Sunday, which was a severe +exercise of Polly's principles. One Sunday afternoon, however, much to +my amazement, she led me away down the shrubbery, saying, + +"My dear Regie! I've found two trees which I'm sure we may climb on +Sundays." Much puzzled, I nevertheless yielded to her, being quite +accustomed to trust all her proceedings. + +I was not enlightened by the appearance of the trees, which were very +much like others as to their ladder-like peculiarities. They were old +Portugal laurels which had been cut in a good deal at various times. +They looked very easy to climb, and did not seem to boast many +"stories." I did not see anything about them adapted for Sunday +amusement in particular. + +But Polly soon explained herself. + +"Look here, Regie," said she; "this tree has got three beautiful +branches, one for the clerk, one for the reading-desk, and one for the +pulpit. I'm going to get into the top one and preach you a sermon; and +you're to sit in that other tree--it makes a capital pew. I'm sure +it's quite a Sunday game," added Polly, mounting to the pulpit with +her accustomed energy. + +I seated myself in the other tree; and Polly, after consuming some +time in "settling herself," appeared to be ready; but she still +hesitated, and finally burst out laughing. + +"I beg your pardon," she added, rubbing her hands over her laughing +mouth, and composing herself. "Now I'm going to begin." But she still +giggled, which led me to say-- + +"Never mind the text, as you're laughing. Begin at once without." + +"Very well," said Polly. + +There was another break down, and then she seemed fairly grave. + +"My dear brethren," she began. + +"There's only one of us," I ventured to observe. + +"Now, Regie, you mustn't speak. The congregation never speaks to the +clergyman when he's preaching." + +"It's such a small congregation," I pleaded. + +"Well, then, I won't preach at all, if you go on like that," said +Polly. + +But, as I saw that she was getting cross, and as I had no intention of +offending her, I apologized, and begged her to proceed with her +sermon. So she began again accordingly-- + +"My dear brethren." + +But here she paused; and after a few moments of expectation on my +part, and silence on Polly's, she said-- + +"Is your pew comfortable, Regie dear?" + +"Very," said I. "How do you like the pulpit?" + +"Very much indeed," said Polly; "but I don't think I can preach +without a cushion. Suppose we talk." + +Thus the sermon was abandoned; and as Polly refused to let me try my +luck in the pulpit, she remained at a considerably higher level than I +was. At last I became impatient of this fact, and began to climb +higher. + +[Illustration: Polly and Regie in the "Pulpit" and the "Pew".] + +"Stop!" cried Polly; "you mustn't leave your pew." + +"I'm going into the gallery," a happy thought enabled me to say. + +Polly made no answer. She seemed to be meditating some step; and +presently I saw her scramble down to the ground in her own rapid +fashion. + +"Regie dear, will you promise not to get into my pulpit till I come +back?" she begged. + +I gave the promise; and, without answering my questions as to what she +was going to do, she sped off towards the house. In about five minutes +she returned with something held in the skirt of her frock, which +seemed greatly to incommode her in climbing. At last she reached the +pulpit, but she did not stay there. Up and on she went, much hindered +by her burden. + +"Polly! Polly!" I cried. "You mustn't go higher than the pulpit. You +know it isn't fair. The pulpit is the top one, and you must stay +there. The clergyman never goes into the gallery." + +"I'm not going into the gallery," she gasped; and on she went to the +topmost of the large branches. There she paused, and from her lap she +drew forth the dinner-bell. + +"I'm in the belfry," she shouted in tones of triumph, "and I'm going +to ring the bell for service." + +Which she accordingly did, with such a hearty goodwill that Nurse +Bundle and several others of the household came out to see what was +the matter. My father laughed loudly, but Mrs. Bundle was seriously +displeased. + +"Master Reginald would never have thought of no such thing on a Sunday +afternoon but for you, Miss Polly," she said, with a partiality for +her "own boy" which offended my sense of justice. + +"I climbed a tree too, Nurse," I said, emphatically. + +"And it was only a Sunday kind of climbing," Polly pleaded. But Nurse +Bundle refused to see the force of Polly's idea; we were ignominiously +dismissed to the nursery, and thenceforward were obliged, as before, +to confine our tree-climbing exploits to the six working days of the +week. + +And these Portugal laurels bore the names of the Pulpit and the Pew +ever afterwards. + + * * * * * + +I showed my flat iron to Polly, and she was so much pleased with it +that I greatly regretted that I had only brought away this one from +Oakford. I should have given it to her, but for its connection with +the little white-beavered lady. + +We both played with it; and at a suggestion of Polly's, we gave quite +a new character to our "wash" (or rather "ironing," for we omitted the +earlier processes of the laundry). We used to cut small models of +clothes out of white paper, and then iron them with the farthing iron. +How nobly that domestic implement did its duty till the luckless day +when Polly became uneasy because we did not "put it down to the fire +to get hot!" + +"Nurse doesn't like us to play with fire," I conscientiously reminded +her. + +"It's not playing with fire; it's only putting the iron on the hob," +said Polly. + +And to this unworthy evasion I yielded, and--my arm being longer than +Polly's--put the flat iron on the top bar of the nursery grate with my +own hand. Whilst the iron was heating we went back to our scissors and +paper. + +"You cut out a few more white petticoats, Regie dear," said Polly, +"and I will make an iron-holder;" with which she calmly cut several +inches off the end of her sash, and began to fold it for the purpose. + +Aunt Maria's nursery discipline was firm, but her own nature was +independent, almost to aggressiveness; and Polly inherited enough of +the latter to more than counteract the repression of the former. Thus +all Cousin Polly's proceedings were very direct, and, if necessary, +daring. When she cut her sash, I exclaimed--"My dear Polly!" just as +Uncle Ascott was wont at times to cry--"My dear Maria!" + +"I'd nothing else to make it of," said Polly, calmly. "It's better +than cutting up my pocket-handkerchief, for it only shortens it a +little, and Mamma often cuts the ends a little when our sashes ravel. +How many petticoats have you done, dear?" + +"Four," said I. + +"Well, we've three skirts. Those long strips will do for Uncle +Reginald's neckties. You can cut that last sheet into two pieces, and +we'll pretend they're tablecloths. And then I think you'd better fetch +the iron. Here's the holder." + +"Oh! Polly dear! It is such fun!" I cried; but as I drew near to the +fireplace the words died away on my lips. My flat iron was gone. + +At first I thought it had fallen on to the hearth; but looking nearer +I saw a blob or button of lead upon the bar of the grate. There was no +resisting the conviction which forced itself upon me: my flat iron was +melted. + +Polly was much distressed. Doubly so because she had been the cause of +the misfortune. As we were examining the shapeless lump of metal, she +said, "It's like a little lump of silver that Miss Blomfield has +hanging to her watch chain;" which determined me to have a hole made +through the remains of my flat iron, and do the same. + +"Papa has promised me a watch next birthday," I added. + +Polly and I were very happy and merry together; but her visit came to +an end at last. Aunt Maria came to fetch her. She had brought her down +when she came, but had only stayed one night. On this occasion she +stayed from Saturday to Monday. Aunt Maria never allowed any of the +girls to travel alone, and they were never allowed to visit without +her at any but relations' houses. One consequence of which was, that +when they grew up, and were large young women with large noses, they +were the most helpless creatures at a railway-station that I ever +beheld. + +Whilst Aunt Maria was with us, she "spoke seriously," as it is called, +to my father about my education. I think she was shocked to discover +how thoroughly Polly and I had been "running wild" during Polly's +visit. Whether my father had given any rash assent to proposals for +our studying together, which Aunt Maria may have made at her last +visit, or not, I do not know. Anyway, my aunt seemed to be shocked, +and enlarged to my father on the waste of time involved in allowing me +to run wild so long. My father was apt to "take things easy," and I +fancy he made some vague promises as to my education, which satisfied +my aunt for the time. Polly and I parted with much grief on both +sides. Aunt Maria took her back to her lessons, and I was left to my +loneliness. + +I felt Polly's loss very much, especially as my father happened to be +a good deal engaged just then, and Nurse Bundle busy superintending +some new arrangements in our nursery premises. I think she missed +Polly herself; we had not been so quiet for some weeks. We almost felt +it dull. + +"Of course a country place _is_ very quiet," Mrs. Bundle said one +evening to the housekeeper, with whom we were having tea for a change. +"Anybody feels it that has ever lived in a town, where people is +always dropping in." + +"What's 'dropping in,' Nurse?" I asked. + +"Well, my dear, just calling in at anybody's house, and sitting down +in a friendly way, to exchange the weather and pass time like." + +"That must be very nice," I said. + +"Like as if we was in Oakford," Mrs. Bundle continued, "and I could +drop in, as it might be this afternoon, and take a seat in my sister's +and ask after their good healths." + +"I wish we could," said I. + +The idea fermented in my brain, as ideas were wont to do, in the large +share of solitary hours that fell to my lot. The result of it was the +following adventure. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +RUBENS AND I "DROP IN" AT THE RECTORY--GARDENS AND GARDENERS--MY +FATHER COMES FOR ME + + +One fine morning, when my father was busy with the farm-bailiff, and +Mrs. Bundle was "sorting" some clothes, I took my best hat from the +wardrobe, deliberately, and with some difficulty put on a clean frill, +fastened my boots, and calling Rubens after me, set forth from the +hall unnoticed by any of the family. + +Rubens jumped up at me in an inquiring fashion as we went along. He +could not imagine where we were going. I knew quite well. I was making +for the Rectory, the road to which I knew. I had often thought I +should like to go and see Mr. Andrewes, and Mrs. Bundle's remarks to +the housekeeper had suggested to me the idea of calling upon him. We +were near neighbours, though we did not live in a town. I resolved to +"drop in" at the Rectory. + +It was a lovely morning, and Rubens and I quite enjoyed our walk. He +became so much excited that it was with difficulty that I withheld him +from chasing the ducks on the pond in Mr. Andrewes' farm-yard, as we +went through it. (The parson had a little farm attached to his +Rectory.) Then I with difficulty unlatched the heavy gate leading into +the drive, and fastened it again with the scrupulous care of a +country squire's son. The grounds were exquisitely kept. Mr. Andrewes +was a first-rate gardener and a fair farmer. That neatness, without +which the brightest flowers will not "show themselves" (as gardeners +say), did full justice to every luxuriant shrub, and set off the pale, +delicately-beautiful border of snowdrops and crocuses which edged the +road, and the clumps of daffodil, polyanthus, and primrose flowers +dotted hither and thither. I was not surprised to hear the chorus of +birds above my head, for it was one of the parson's "oddities" that he +would have no birds shot on his premises. + +When I came into the flower-garden, there was more exquisite neatness, +and more bright spring flowers, thinly scattered in comparison with +summer blossoms, but shining brightly against the rich dark mould. And +on the turf were lying gardening-tools, and busy among the tools and +flower-beds were two men--the Rev. Reginald Andrewes and his gardener. +It took me several seconds to distinguish master from man. They were +both in straw hats and shirt sleeves, but I recognised the parson by +his trousers. His hat was the older of the two, and not by any means +"canonical." Having found him, I went up to the bed where he was busy, +and sat down on the grass near him, without speaking. (I was +accustomed to respect my father's "busy" moments, and yet to be with +him.) Rubens followed my example, and sat down in silence also. He had +smelt the parson before, and wagged his tail faintly as he saw him. +But he reserved his opinion of the gardener, and seemed rather +disposed to growl when he touched the wheelbarrow. + +"Bless me!" said Mr. Andrewes, who was startled, as he well might be, +by my appearance. "Why, my dear boy, how are you?" + +"Very well, thank you," said I, getting up and offering my hand; "I've +dropped in." + +"Dear me!" said Mr. Andrewes; "I mean, I'm very glad to see you! Won't +you come in? You mustn't sit on the grass." + +"What a pretty garden you have!" I said, as we walked slowly towards +the house. Mr. Andrewes turned round. + +"Well, pretty well. It amuses me, you know," he said, with the mock +humility of a real horticulturist. And he looked round his garden with +an unmistakable glance of pride and affection. "Have you a garden, +Reginald?" he inquired. + +"Yes," I said. "At least, I've two beds and a border. The beds are +shaped like an R and a D. But I haven't touched them since I was ill. +The gardener tidied them up when I was at Oakford, and I think he has +dug up all my plants. At least I couldn't find the Bachelor's Button, +nor the London Pride, nor the Pansies, and I saw the Lavender-bush on +the rubbish-heap." + +"So they do--so they always do!" said the parson, excitedly. "The only +way is to keep in the garden with them, and let nothing go into the +wheelbarrow but what you see.--Jones! you may go to your dinner. I +watch Jones like a dragon, but he sweeps up a tap-root now and then, +all the same; and yet he's better than most of them. Some flowers are +especially apt to take leave of one's beds and borders," Mr. Andrewes +went on. He was talking to himself rather than to me by this time. +"Fraxinellas, double-grey primroses, ay, and the pink and white ones +too. And hepaticas, red, blue, and white." + +"What are hepaticas like?" I asked. + +"Let me show you," said Mr. Andrewes, crossing the garden. "Look here! +there are the pretty little things. I have seen them growing wild in +Canada--single ones, that is. The leaves are of a dull green, and when +they fade, the whole plant is hardly to be distinguished from Mother +Earth--at least, not by a gardener's eye. If you will promise me not +to let the gardener meddle with them, unless you are there to look +after him, I will give you plants for your beds and borders, my boy." + +"Oh, thank you," I said; "I like gardening very much. I should like to +garden like you. I've got a spade, and a hoe, and a fork, and I had a +rake, but it's lost. But I know papa will give me another; and I can +tidy my own beds, so the gardener need not touch them; and if there +was a wheelbarrow small enough for me to wheel, I could take my weeds +away myself, you know." + +And I chattered on about my garden, for, like other children, I was +apt to "take up" things very warmly, in imitation of other people; and +Mr. Andrewes had already fired my imagination with dreams of a little +garden in perfect order and beauty, and tended by my own hands alone; +and as I talked of my garden, the parson talked of his, and so we +wandered from border to border, finding each other very good company, +Rubens walking demurely at our heels. A great many of Mr. Andrewes' +remarks, though I am sure they were very instructive, were beyond my +power of understanding; but as he closed each lecture on the various +flowers by a promise of a root, a cutting, a sucker, a seedling, or a +bulb, as the case might be, I was an attentive and well-satisfied +listener. I much admired some daffodils, and Mr. Andrewes at once +began to pick a bunch of them for me. + +"Isn't it a pity to pick them?" I said, politely. + +"My dear Regie," said Mr. Andrewes, "if ever you see anybody with a +good garden of flowers who grudges picking them for his friends, you +may be quite sure he has not learnt half of what his flowers can teach +him. Flowers are generous enough. The more you take from them the more +they give. And yet I have seen people with beds glowing with +geraniums, and trees laden with roses, who grudged to pluck them, not +knowing that they would bloom all the better and more luxuriantly for +being culled." + +"Do daffodils flower better when the flowers are picked off?" I asked, +having my full share of the childish propensity for asking awkward and +candid questions. Mr. Andrewes laughed. + +"Well, no. I must confess they are not quite like geraniums in this +respect. And spring flowers are so few and so precious, one may be +excused for not quite cutting them like summer flowers. But it +wouldn't do only to be generous when it costs one nothing. Eh, Regie?" + +I laughed and said "No," which was what I was expected to say, and +thanked the parson for the daffodils. He pulled out his watch. + +"My dear boy, it's luncheon time. Will you come in and have something +to eat with me?" + +I hesitated; Mrs. Bundle had not spoken of any meal in connection with +the ceremony of "dropping in," but, on the other hand, I should +certainly like to lunch at the Rectory, I thought. And, indeed, I was +hungry. + +"Oh, you must come," said Mr. Andrewes, leading me away without +waiting for an answer. "I'm sure you must be hungry, and the dog too. +What's his name, eh?" + +"Rubens," said I. + +"Does he paint?" Mr. Andrewes inquired. But as I knew nothing of +Painter Peter Paul Rubens or his works, I was only puzzled, and said +he knew a good many tricks which I had taught him. + +"We'll see if he can beg for chicken-bones," said the parson, +hospitably; and indoors we went. Mr. Andrewes said grace, though not +in the words to which I was accustomed, and we sat down together, +Rubens lying by my chair. I endeavoured to conduct myself with the +strictest propriety, and I believe succeeded, except for the trifling +mischance of spilling some bread-sauce on to my jacket. Mr. Andrewes +saw this, however, and wanted to fasten a table-napkin round me, to +which I objected. + +"Too like a pinafore, eh?" said he, with a sly laugh. + +"I don't think I ought to wear pinafores now," I said, in a grave and +injured tone. "Leo Damer doesn't, and he's not much older than I am. +But I think," I added, candidly, "he rather does as he likes, because +he's got nobody to look after him." + +The parson laughed, and then gave a heavy sigh. + +"I wish my mother could come back, and tie a pinafore round my neck!" +he exclaimed, abruptly. Then I believe he suddenly remembered that I +had lost my mother and was vexed with himself for his hasty speech. I +saw nothing inconsiderate in the remark, however, and only said, + +"Is your mother dead?" + +"Yes, my boy. Many years ago," said Mr. Andrewes. + +"Did your father marry anybody else?" I inquired. + +"My father died before my mother." + +"Dear me," said I; "how very sad! Leo's father and mother died +together. They were drowned in his father's yacht." I was in the +middle of a history of my friend Leo, and of my visit to London, when +a bell pealed loudly through the house. + +"Somebody's in a hurry," said Mr. Andrewes; "that's the front-door +bell." + +In three minutes the dining-room door was opened, and the servant +announced "Mr. Dacre." It would be untrue to say that I did not feel a +little guilty when my father walked into the room. And yet I had not +really thought there was "any harm" in my expedition. I think I was +chiefly annoyed by the ignominious end of it. It was trying, after +"dropping in" and "taking luncheon" like a grown-up gentleman, to be +fetched home as a lost child. + +"What could make you run away like this, Regie?" said my poor +bewildered parent. "Mrs. Bundle is nearly mad with fright. It was very +naughty of you. What were you thinking of?" + +"I thought I would drop in," I explained. And in the pause resulting +from my father's astonishment at my absurd and old-fashioned +demeanour, I proceeded with Nurse Bundle's definition as well as I +could recollect it in my confusion, and speak it for impending tears. +"So I came, and Rubens came, and Mr. Andrewes was in the garden, and +we sat down, to change the weather, and pass time like, and Mr. +Andrewes was in the garden, and he gave me some flowers, and Mr. +Andrewes asked me in, and I came in, and he gave me some luncheon and +he asked Rubens to have some bones, and--" + +"'Change the weather and pass time like,'" muttered my father. +"Servants' language! oh, dear!" + +In my vexation with things in general, and with the strong feeling +within me that I was in the wrong, I seized upon the first grievance +that occurred to me as an excuse for fretfulness, and once more quoted +Nurse Bundle. + +"It's so very quiet at home," I whimpered, with tears in my eyes, +which had really no sort of connection with the dulness of the Hall, +or with anything whatever but offended pride and vexation on my part. + +Ah! How many a stab one gives in childhood to one's parents' tenderest +feelings! I did not mean to be ungrateful, and I had no measure of the +pain my father felt at this hint of the insufficiency of all he did +for my comfort and pleasure at home. Mr. Andrewes knew better, and +said, hastily, + +"Just the love of novelty, Mr. Dacre. We have been children +ourselves." + +My father sighed, and sitting down, drew me towards him with one hand, +stroking Rubens with the other, in acknowledgment of his greeting and +wagging tail. Then I saw that he was hurt. Indeed, I fancied tears +were in his eyes as he said, + +"So poor Papa and home are too dull--too quiet, eh, Regie? And yet +Papa does all he can for his boy." + +My fit of ill-temper was gone in a moment, and I flung my arms round +my father's neck--Rubens taking flying leaps to join in the embrace, +after a fashion common with dogs, and decidedly dangerous to eyes, +nose, and ears. And as I kissed my father, and was kissed by Rubens, +I gave a candid account of my expedition. "No, dear papa. It wasn't +that. Only Nurse said country places were quiet, and in towns people +dropped in, and passed time, and changed the weather, and if she was +in Oakford she would drop in and see her sister. And so I said it +would be very nice. And so I thought this morning that Rubens and I +would drop in and see Mr. Andrewes. And so we did; and we didn't tell +because we wanted to come alone, for fun." + +With this explanation the fullest harmony was restored; and my father +sat down whilst Mr. Andrewes and I finished our luncheon and Rubens +had his. I gave an account of the garden in terms glowing enough to +satisfy the pride of the warmest horticulturist, and my father +promised a new rake, and drank a glass of sherry to the success of my +"gardening without a gardener." + +But as we were going away I overheard him saying to Mr. Andrewes, + +"All the same, a boy can't be with a nurse for ever. She has every +good quality, except good English. And he is not a baby now. One +forgets how time passes. I must see about a tutor." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +NURSE BUNDLE IS MAGNANIMOUS--MR. GRAY--AN EXPLANATION WITH MY FATHER + + +Naturally enough, I did my best to give Nurse Bundle a faithful +account of my attempt to realize her idea of "dropping in," with all +that came of it. My garden projects, the arrival of my father, and all +that he said and did on the occasion. From my childish and confused +account, I fancy that Nurse Bundle made out pretty correctly the state +of the case. Being a "grown-up person," she probably guessed, without +difficulty, the meaning of my father's concluding remarks. I think a +good, faithful, tender-hearted nurse, such as she was, must suffer +with some of a mother's feelings, when it is first decided that "her +boy" is beyond petticoat government. Nurse Bundle cried so bitterly +over this matter, that my most chivalrous feelings were roused, and I +vowed that "Papa shouldn't say things to vex my dear Nursey." But Mrs. +Bundle was very loyal. + +"My dear," said she, wiping her eyes with her apron, "depend upon it, +whatever your papa settles on is right. He knows what's suitable for a +young gentleman; and it's only likely as a young gentleman born and +bred should outgrow to be beyond what an old woman like me can do for +him. Though there's no tutors nor none of them will ever love you +better than poor Nurse Bundle, my deary. And there's no one ever has +loved you better, my dear, nor ever will--always excepting your dear +mamma, dead and gone." + +All this stirred my feelings to the uttermost, and I wept too, and +vowed unconquerable fidelity to Nurse Bundle, and (despite her +remonstrances) unconquerable aversion from the tutor that was to be. I +furthermore renewed my proposals of marriage to Mrs. Bundle,--the +wedding to take place "when I should be old enough." + +This set her off into fits of laughing; and having regained her good +spirits, she declared that "she wouldn't have, no, not a young squire +himself, unless he were eddicated accordingly;" and this, it was +evident could only be brought about through the good offices of a +tutor. And to the prospective tutor (though he was to be her rival) +she was magnanimously favourable, whilst I, for my part, warmly +opposed the very thought of him. But neither her magnanimity nor my +unreasonable objections were put to the test just then. + +Several days had passed since I and Rubens "dropped in" at the +Rectory, and I was one morning labouring diligently at my garden, when +I saw Mr. Andrewes, in his canonical coat and shoes, coming along the +drive, carrying something in his hand which puzzled me. As he came +nearer, however, I perceived that it was a small wheelbarrow, gaily +painted red within and green without. At a respectful distance behind +him walked Jones, carrying a garden-basket full of plants on his head. + +Both the wheelbarrow and the plants were for me--a present from the +good-natured parson. He was helping me to plant the flower-roots, and +giving me a lecture on the sparing use of the wheelbarrow, when my +father joined us, and I heard him say to Mr. Andrewes, "I should like +a word with you, when you are at liberty." + +I do not know what made me think that they were talking about me. I +did, however, and watched them anxiously, as they passed up and down +the drive in close consultation. At last I heard Mr. Andrewes say-- + +"The afternoon would suit me best; say an hour after luncheon." + +This remark closed the conversation, and they came back to me. But I +had overheard another sentence from Mr. Andrewes' lips, which filled +me with disquiet, + +"I know of one that will just suit you; a capital little fellow." + +So the tutor was actually decided upon. "'A capital little fellow.' +That means a nasty fussy little man!" I cried to myself. "I hate him!" + +For the rest of that day, and all the next, I worried myself with +thoughts of the new tutor. On the following morning, I was standing +near one of the lodges with my father, looking at some silver +pheasants, when Mr. Andrewes rode by, and called to my father. + +Now, living as I did, chiefly with servants, and spending much more of +my leisure than was at all desirable between the stables and the +housekeeper's room, my sense of honour on certain subjects was not +quite so delicate as it ought to have been. With all their many +merits, uneducated people and servants have not--as a class--strict +ideas on absolute truthfulness and honourable trustworthiness in all +matters. A large part of the plans, hopes, fears, and quarrels of +uneducated people are founded on what has been overheard by folk who +were not intended to hear it, and on what has been told again by those +to whom a matter was told in confidence. Nothing is a surer mark of +good breeding and careful "upbringing" (as the Scotch call it) than +delicacy on those little points which are trusted to one's honour. But +refinement in such matters is easily blunted if one lives much with +people who think any little meanness fair that is not found out. I +really saw no harm in trying to overhear all that I could of the +conversation between my father and Mr. Andrewes, though I was aware, +from their manner, that I was not meant to hear it. I lingered near my +father, therefore, and pretended to be watching the pheasants, for a +certain instinct made me feel that I should not like my father to see +me listening. He was one of those highly, scrupulously honourable +gentlemen, before whose face it was impossible to do or say anything +unworthy or mean. + +He spoke in low tones, so that I lost most of what he said; but the +parson's voice was a peculiarly clear one, and though he lowered it, I +heard a good deal. + +"I saw him yesterday," was Mr. Andrewes' first remark. + +("That's the tutor," thought I.) + +My father's answer I lost; but I caught fragments of Mr. Andrewes' +next remarks, which were full of information on this important matter. + +"Quite young, good-tempered--little boy so fond of him, nothing would +have induced them to part with him; but they were going abroad." + +Which sounded well; but I suspected the parson of a good deal of +officious advice in a long sentence, of which I only caught the words, +"Can't begin too early." + +I felt convinced, too, that I heard something about the "use of the +whip," which put me into a fever of indignation. Just as Mr. Andrewes +was riding off, my father asked some question, to which the reply +was--"Gray." + +My head was so full of the tutor that I could not enjoy the stroll +with my father as usual, and was not sorry to get back to Nurse +Bundle, to whom I confided all that I had heard about my future +teacher. + +"He's a nasty little man," said I, "not a nice tall gentleman like +Papa or Mr. Andrewes. And Mr. Andrewes saw him yesterday. And Mr. +Andrewes says he's young. And he says he's good-natured; but then what +makes him use whips? And his name is Mr. Gray. And he says the other +little boy was very fond of him, but I don't believe it," I continued, +breaking down at this point into tears, "and they've gone abroad +(sobs) and I wish--boohoo! boohoo--they'd taken _him_!" + +With some trouble Nurse Bundle found out the meaning of my rather +obscure speech. Her wrath at the thought of a whip in connection with +her darling was quite as great as my own. But she persisted in taking +a hopeful view of Mr. Gray, and trusting loyally to my father's +judgment, and she succeeded in softening my grief for the time. + +When I came down to dessert that evening I pretended to be quite happy +and comfortable, and to have nothing on my mind. But happily few +children are clever at pretending what is not true, and as I was +constantly thinking about "that dreadful tutor," and puzzling over the +scraps of conversation I had heard to see if anything more could be +made out of them, my father soon found out that something was amiss. + +"What is the matter, Regie?" he asked. + +"Nothing, Father," I replied, with a very poor imitation of +cheerfulness and no approach to truth. + +"My dear boy," said my father, frowning slightly (a thing I always +dreaded), "do not say what is untrue, for any reason. If you do not +want to tell me what troubles you, say, 'I'd rather not tell you, +please,' like a man, and I will not persecute you about it. But don't +say there is nothing the matter when your little head is quite full of +something that bothers you very much. As I said, I will not press you, +but as I love you, and wish to help you in every way I can, I think +you had better tell me." + +Now, though I had really not thought I was doing wrong in listening to +the conversation I was not meant to hear, a _something_ which one +calls conscience made me feel ashamed of the whole matter. I had a +feeling of being in the wrong, which is apt to make one vexed and +fretful, and it was this, quite as much as fear of my grave father, +which made the colour rush to my face, and the tears into my eyes. + +"Come, Regie," he said, "out with it. Don't cry, whatever you do; +that's like a baby. Have you been doing something wrong? Tell me all +about it. Confession is half way to forgiveness. Don't be afraid of +me. For heaven's sake, don't be afraid of me!" added my father, with +impatient sadness, and the frown deepening so rapidly on his face that +my tears flowed in proportion. + +(How sad are the helpless struggles of a widowed father with young +children, I could not then appreciate. How seldom successful is the +alternative of a second marriage, has become proverbial in excess of +the truth.) + +My father was more patient than many men. He did not dismiss me and my +tears to the nursery in despair. With the insight and tenderness of a +mother he restrained himself, and unknitting his brows, held out both +his hands and said very kindly, + +"Come and tell poor Papa all about it, my darling." + +On which I jumped from my chair, and rushing up to him, threw my arms +about his neck and sobbed out, "Oh, Papa! Papa! I don't want him." + +"Don't want _whom_, my boy?" + +"M-m-m-m-r. Gray," I sobbed. + +"And who on earth is Mr. Gray, Regie?" inquired my perplexed parent. + +"The tutor--the new tutor," I explained. + +"But _whose_ new tutor?" cried the distracted gentleman, whose +confusion seemed in no way lessened when I added, + +"Mine, Papa; the one you're going to get for me." And as no gleam of +intelligence yet brightened his puzzled face, I added, doubtfully, +"You are going to get one, aren't you, Papa?" + +"What put this idea into your head, Regie?" asked my father, after a +pause. + +And then I had to explain, feeling very uncomfortable as I did so, how +I had overheard a few words at the Rectory, and a few words more at +the lodge, and how I had patched my hearsays together and made out +that a certain little man was coming to be my tutor, who had +previously been tutor somewhere else, and that his name was Gray. And +all this time my father did not help me out a bit by word or sign. By +the time I had got to the end of my story of what I had heard, and +what I had guessed, and what Nurse Bundle and I had made out, I did +not need any one to tell me that to listen to what one is not intended +to hear is a thing to be ashamed of. My cheeks and ears were very red, +and I felt very small indeed. + +"Now, Regie," said my father, "I won't say what I think about your +listening to Mr. Andrewes and me, in order to find out what I did not +choose to tell you. You shall tell me what you think, my boy. Do you +think it is a nice thing, a gentlemanly thing, upright, and honest, +and worthy of Papa's only son, to sneak about listening to what you +were not meant to hear. Now don't begin to cry, Reginald," he added, +rather sharply; "you have nothing to cry for, and it's either silly or +ill-tempered to whimper because I show you that you've done wrong. +Anybody may do wrong; and if you think that you have, why say you're +sorry, like a man, and don't do so any more." + +I made a strong effort to restrain my tears of shame and vexation, and +said very heartily-- + +"I'm very sorry, Papa. I didn't think of it's being wrong." + +"I quite believe that, my boy. But you see that it's not right now, +don't you?" + +"Oh yes!" I exclaimed, "and I won't listen any more, father." We made +it up lovingly, Rubens flying frantically at our heads to join in the +kisses and reconciliation. He had been anxiously watching us, being +well aware that something was amiss. + +"I don't mean to tell you what Mr. Andrewes and I _were_ talking +about," said my father, "because I did not wish you to hear. But I +will tell you that you made a very bad guess at the secret. We were +not talking of a tutor, or dreaming of one, and you have vexed +yourself for nothing. However, I think it serves you right for +listening. But we won't talk of that any more." + +I do not think Nurse Bundle was disposed to blame me as much as I now +blamed myself; but she was invariably loyal to my father's decisions, +and never magnified her own indulgence in the nursery by pitying me if +I got into scrapes in the drawing-room. + +"My dear," said she, "your Pa's a gentleman, every inch of him. You +listen to him, and try and do as he does, and you'll grow up just such +another, and be a pride and blessing to all about you." + +But we both rejoiced that at any rate our fears were unfounded in +reference to the much-dreaded Mr. Gray. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE REAL MR. GRAY--NURSE BUNDLE REGARDS HIM WITH DISFAVOUR + + +My feelings may therefore be "better imagined than described" when, at +about ten o'clock the following morning, my father called me +downstairs, and said, with an odd expression on his face, + +"Regie, Mr. Gray has come." + +Not for one instant did I in my mind accuse my father of deceiving me. +My faith in him was as implicit as he well deserved that it should be. +Black might be white, two and two might make five, impossible things +might be possible, but my father could not be in the wrong. It was +evident that I must have misunderstood him last night. I looked very +crestfallen indeed. + +My father, however, seemed particularly cheerful, even inclined to +laugh, I thought. He took my hand and we went to the front door, my +heart beating wildly, for I was a delicate unrobust lad yet, far too +easily upset and excited. More like a girl, in fact, if the comparison +be not an insult to such sturdy maids as Cousin Polly. + +Outside we found a man-servant on a bay horse, holding a little white +pony, on which, I supposed, the little tutor had been riding. But he +himself was not to be seen. I tried hard to be manly and calm, and +being much struck by the appearance of the pony, who, when I came down +the steps, had turned towards me the gentlest and most intelligent of +faces, with a splendid long curly white forelock streaming down +between his kind dark eyes, I asked-- + +"Is that Mr. Gray's pony, father?" + +"What do you think of it?" said my father. + +"Oh, it's a little dear," was my emphatic answer, and as the pony +unmistakably turned his head to me, I met his friendly advances by +going up to him, and in another moment my arms were round his neck, +and he was rubbing his soft, strong nose against my shoulder, and we +were kissing and fondling each other in happy forgetfulness of +everything but our sudden friendship, whilst the man-servant +(apparently an Irishman) was firing off ejaculations like crackers on +the fifth of November. + +"Sure, now, did ever anyone see the like--just to look at the +baste--sure he knows it's the young squire himself entirely. Och, but +the young gintleman's as well acquainted with horses as myself--sure +he'd make friends with a unicorn, if there was such an animal; and +it's the unicorn that would be proud to let him, too!" + +"It has been used to boys, I think?" said my father. + +"Ye may say that, yer honour. It likes boys better than man, woman, or +child, and it's not every baste ye can say that for." + +"A good many beasts have reason to think very differently, I fear," +said my father. + +"And _that's_ as true a word as your honour ever spoke," assented the +groom. + +Meanwhile a possible ground of consolation was beginning to suggest +itself to my mind. + +"Will Mr. Gray keep his pony here?" I asked, + +"The pony will live here," said my father. + +"Oh, do you think," I asked, "do you think, that if I am very good, +and do my lessons well, Mr. Gray will sometimes let me ride him? He +_is_ such a darling!" By which I meant the pony, and not Mr. Gray. My +father laughed, and put his hand on my shoulders. + +"I have only been teasing you, Regie," he said. "You know I told you +there was no tutor in the case. Mr. Andrewes and I were talking about +this pony, and when Mr. Andrewes said _grey_, he spoke of the colour +of the pony, and not of anybody's name." + +"Then is the pony yours?" I asked. + +My father looked at my eager face with a pleased smile. + +"No, my boy," he said, "he is yours." + +The wild delight with which I received this announcement, the way I +jumped and danced, and that Rubens jumped and danced with me, my +gratitude and my father's satisfaction, the renewed amenities between +myself and my pony, his obvious knowledge of the fact that I was his +master, and the running commentary of the Irishman, I will not attempt +to describe. + +The purchase of this pony was indeed one of my father's many kind +thoughts for my welfare and amusement. My odd pilgrimage to the +Rectory in search of change and society, and the pettish complaints of +dulness and monotony at home which I had urged to account for my freak +of "dropping in," had seemed to him not without a certain serious +foundation. Except for walks about the farm with him, and stolen +snatches of intercourse with the grooms, and dogs, and horses in the +stables (which both he and Nurse Bundle discouraged), I had little or +no amusement proper to a boy of my age. I was very well content to sit +with Rubens at Mrs. Bundle's apron-string, but now and then I was, to +use an expressive word, _moped_. My father had taken counsel with Mr. +Andrewes, and the end of it all was that I found myself the master of +the most charming of ponies, with the exciting prospect before me of +learning to ride. The very thought of it invigorated me. Before the +Irish groom went away I had asked if my new steed "could jump." I +questioned my father's men as to the earliest age at which young +gentlemen had ever been allowed to go out hunting, within their +knowledge. I went to bed to dream of rides as wild as Mazeppa's, of +hairbreadth escapes, and of feats of horsemanship that would have +amazed Mr. Astley. And hopes and schemes so wild that I dared not +bring them to the test of my father's ridicule, I poured with pride +into Nurse Bundle's sympathetic ear. + +Dear, good, kind Nurse Bundle! She was indeed a mother to me, and a +mother's anxieties and disappointments were her portion. The effect of +her watchful constant care of my early years for me, was whatever good +there was about me in health or manners. The effect of it for her was, +I believe, that she was never thoroughly happy when I was out of her +sight. In these circumstances, it seemed hard that when most of my +infantile diseases were over, when I was just becoming very +intelligent (the best company possible, Mrs. Bundle declared), when I +wore my clothes out reasonably, and had exchanged the cries which +exercise one's lungs in infancy for rational conversation by the +nursery fireside, I should be drawn away from nurse and nursery almost +entirely. It was right and natural, but it was hard. Nurse Bundle felt +it so, but she never complained. When she felt it most, she only said, +"It's all just as it should be." And so it was. Boys and ducklings +must wander off some time, be mothers and hens never so kind! The +world is wide, and duck-ponds are deep. The young ones must go alone, +and those who tremble most for their safety cannot follow to take care +of them. + +I really shrink from realizing to myself what Nurse Bundle must have +suffered whilst I was learning to ride. The novel exercise, the +stimulus of risk, that "put new life into me," were to her so many +daily grounds for the sad probability of my death. + +"Every blessed afternoon do I look to see him brought home on a +shutter, with his precious neck broken, poor lamb!" she exclaimed one +afternoon, overpowered by the sight of me climbing on to the pony's +back, which performance I had brought her downstairs to witness, and +endeavoured to render more entertaining and creditable by secretly +stimulating the pony to restlessness, and then hopping after him with +one foot in the stirrup, in what I fancied to be a very knowing +manner. + +"Why, my dear Mrs. Bundle," said my father, smiling, "you kill him at +least three hundred and sixty-four times oftener in the course of the +year than you need. If he does break his neck, he can only do it once, +and you bewail his loss every day." + +"Now, Heaven bless the young gentleman, sir, and meaning no +disrespect, but don't ye go for to tempt Providence by joking about +it, and him perhaps brought a hopeless corpse to the side door this +very evening," said Mrs. Bundle, her red cheeks absolutely blanched by +the vision she had conjured up. Why, I cannot say, but she had fully +made up her mind that when I was brought home dead, as she believed +that, sooner or later, I was pretty sure to be, I should be brought to +the side-door. Now "the side-door," as it was called, was a little +door leading into the garden, and less used, perhaps, than any other +door in the house. Mrs. Bundle, I believe, had decided that in that +tragedy which she was constantly rehearsing, the men who should find +my body would avoid the front-door, to spare my father the sudden +shock of meeting my corpse. The side-door, too, was just below the +nursery windows. Mrs. Bundle herself, would, probably, be the first to +hear any knocking at it, and she naturally pictured herself as taking +a prominent part in the terrible scene she so often fancied. It was +perhaps a good thing, on the whole, that she chose this door in +preference to those in constant use, otherwise every ring or knock at +the front or back door must have added greatly to her anxieties. + +I fear I did not do much to relieve them. I rather aggravated them. +Partly I believe in the conceit of showing off my own skill and +daring, and partly by way of "hardening" Mrs. Bundle's nerves. When +more knowledge, or longer custom, or stronger health or nerves, have +placed us beyond certain terrors which afflict other people, we are +apt to fancy that, by insisting upon their submitting to what we do +not mind, our nervous friends can or ought to be forced into the +unconcern which we feel ourselves; which is, perhaps, a little too +like dosing the patient with what happens to agree with the doctor. + +Thus I fondled my pony's head and dawdled ostentatiously at his heels +when Nurse Bundle was most full of fears of his biting or kicking. But +I feel sure that this, and the tricks I played to show the firmness of +my "seat," only made it seem to her the more certain that, from my +recklessness, I must some day be bitten, kicked, or thrown. + +I had several falls, and one or two narrow escapes from more serious +accidents, which, for the moment, made my father as white as Mrs. +Bundle. But he was wise enough to know that the present risks I ran +from fearlessness were nothing to the future risks against which +complete confidence on horseback would ensure me. And so with the +ordinary mishaps, and with days and hours of unspeakable and healthy +happiness, I learnt to ride well and to know horses. And poor Mrs. +Bundle, sitting safely at home in her rocking-chair, endured all the +fears from which I was free. + +"Now look, my deary," said she one day; "don't you go turning your +sweet face round to look up at the nursery windows when you're a +riding off. I can see your curls, bless them! and that's enough for +me. Keep yourself still, love, and look where you're a going, for in +all reason you've plenty to do with that. And don't you go a waving +your precious hand, for it gives me such a turn to think you've let +go, and have only got one hand to hold on with, and just turning the +corner too, and the pony a shaking its tail, and shifting about with +its back legs, till how you don't slip off on one side passes me +altogether." + +"Why, you don't think I hold on by my hands, do you?" I cried. + +"And what should you hold on with?" said Mrs. Bundle. "Many's the +light cart I've rode in, but never let go my hold, unless with one +hand, to save a bag or a bandbox. And though it's jolting, I'm sure a +light cart's nothing to pony-back for starts and unexpectedness." + +I tried in vain to make Nurse Bundle like my pony. + +"I've seen plenty of ponies!" she said, severely; by which she meant +not that she had seen many, but that what she had seen of them had +been more than enough. "My brother-in-law's first cousin had one--a +little red-haired beast--as vicious as any wild cat. It won a many +races, but it was the death of him at last, according to the +expectations of everybody. He was brought home on a shutter to his +family, and the pony grazing close by in the ditch as if nothing had +happened. Many's the time I've seen him on it expecting death as +little as yourself, and he refused twenty pound for it the Tuesday +fortnight before he was killed. But I was with his wife that's now his +widow when the body was brought." + +By the time that I heard this anecdote I was happily too good a rider +to be frightened by it; but I did wish that Mrs. Bundle's relative had +died any other death than that which formed so melancholy a precedent +in her mind. + +The strongest obstacle, however, to any chance of my nurse's looking +with favour on my new pet was her profound ignorance of horses and +ponies in general. Except as to colour or length of tail, she +recognized no difference between one and another. As to any +distinctions between "play" and "vice," a fidgety animal and a +determined kicker, a friendly nose-rub and a malicious resolve to +bite, they were not discernible by Mrs. Bundle's unaccustomed eyes. + +"I've seen plenty of ponies," she would repeat; "I know what they are, +my dear," and she invariably followed up this statement by rehearsing +the fate of her brother-in-law's cousin, sometimes adding-- + +"He was very much giving to racing, and being about horses. He was a +little man, and suffered a deal from the quinsies in the autumn." + +"What a pity he didn't die of a quinsy instead of breaking his neck!" +I felt compelled to say one day. + +"He might have lived to have done that if it hadn't a been for the +pony," said Mrs. Bundle emphatically. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +I FAIL TO TEACH LATIN TO MRS. BUNDLE--THE RECTOR TEACHES ME + + +I was soon to discover the whole of my father's plans with Mr. +Andrewes for my benefit. Not only had they decided that I was to have +a pony, and learn to ride, but it was also settled that I was to go +daily to the Rectory to "do lessons" with the Rector. + +I was greatly pleased. I had already begun Latin with my father, and +had vainly endeavoured to share my educational advantages with Mrs. +Bundle, by teaching her the first declension. + +"Musa, amuse," she repeated after me on this occasion. + +"Musae, of a muse," I continued. + +"_Of amuse!_ There's no sense in that, my dearie," said Mrs. Bundle; +and as my ideas were not very well defined on the subject of the +muses, and as Mrs. Bundle's were even less so as to genders, numbers, +and cases, I reluctantly gave in to her decision that "Latin was very +well for young gentlemen, but good plain English was best suited to +the likes of her." + +She was greatly delighted, however, with a Latin valentine which I +prepared for her on the ensuing 14th of February, and caused to be +delivered by the housemaid, in an envelope with an old stamp, and +postmarks made with a pen and a penny. The design was very simple; a +heart traced in outline from a peppermint lozenge of that shape, which +came to me in an ounce of "mixed sweets" from the village shop. The +said heart was painted red and below it I wrote in my largest and +clearest handwriting, _Mrs. B. Amo te_. When the Latin was translated +for her, her gratification was great. At first she was put out by +there being only two Latin words to three English ones, but she got +over the difficulty at last by always reading it thus:-- + + "A mo te, + I love thee." + +My Latin had not advanced much beyond this stage when I began to go to +Mr. Andrewes every day. + +Thenceforward I progressed rapidly in my learning. Mr. Andrewes was a +good scholar, and (quite another matter) a good teacher; and I fancy +that I was not wanting in quickness or in willingness to work. But +Latin, and arithmetic, and geography, and the marvellous improvement +he soon made in my handwriting, were small parts indeed of all that I +owe to that good friend of my childhood. I suppose that--other things +being equal--children learn most from those who love them best, and I +soon found out that I was the object of a strangely strong affection +in my new teacher. The chief cause of this I did not then know, and +only learnt when death had put an end, for this life, to our happy +intercourse. But I had a child's complacent appreciation of the fact +that I was a favourite, and on the strength of it I haunted the +Rectory at all hours, confident of a welcome. I turned over the +Rector's books, and culled his flowers, and joined his rides, and made +him tell me stories, and tyrannized over him as over a docile +playfellow in a fashion that astonished many grown-up people who were +awed and repelled by his reserve and eccentricities, and who never +knew his character as I knew it till he could be known no more. But I +fancy that there are not a few worthy men who, shy and reserved, are +only intimately known by the children whom they love. + +I may say that not only did I owe much more than mere learning to Mr. +Andrewes, but that my regular lessons were a small part even of his +teaching. + +"It always seems to me," he said one day, when my father and I were +together at the Rectory, "that there are two kinds of learning more +neglected than they should be in the education of the young. Religious +knowledge, which, after all, concerns the worthiest part of every man, +and the longest share of his existence (to say nothing of what it has +to do with matters now); and the knowledge of what we call Nature, and +of all the laws which concern our bodies, and rule the conditions of +life in this world. It's a hobby of mine, Mr. Dacre, and I'm afraid I +ride my hobbies rather like a witch on a broomstick. But a man must +deal according to his lights and his conscience; and if I am intrusted +with the lad's education for a while, it will be my duty and pleasure +to instruct him in religious lore and natural science, so far as his +age allows. To teach him to know his Bible (and I wish all who have +the leisure were taught to read the Scriptures in the original +tongues). To teach him to know his Prayer-book, and its history. +Something, too, of the history of his Church, and of the faith in +which better men than us have been proud to live, and for which some +have even dared to die." + +When the Rector became warm in conversation, his voice betrayed a +rougher accent than we commonly heard, and the more excited he became +the broader was his speech. It had got very broad at this point, when +my father broke in. "I trust him entirely to you, sir," he said; "but, +pardon me, I confess I am not fond of religious prodigies--children +who quote texts and teach their elders their duty; and Reginald has +quite sufficient tendency towards over-excitement of brain on all +subjects." + +"I quite agree with you," said Mr. Andrewes. "I think you may trust +me. I know well that childhood, like all states and times of +ignorance, is so liable to conceit and egotism, that to foster +religious self-importance is only too easy, and modesty and moderation +are more slowly taught. But if youth is a time when one is specially +apt to be self-conceited, surely, Mr. Dacre, it is also the first, the +easiest, the purest, and the most zealous in which to learn what is so +seldom learned in good time." + +"I dare say you are right," said my father. + +"People talk with horror of attacks on the faith as sadly +characteristic of our age," said the Rector, walking up and down the +study, and seemingly forgetful of my presence, if not of my father's, +"(which, by-the-bye, is said of every age in turn), but I fear the +real evil is that so few have any fixed faith to be attacked. It is +the old, old story. From within, not from without. The armour that was +early put on, that has grown with our growth, that has been a strength +in time of trial, and a support in sorrow, and has given grace to +joy, will not quickly be discarded because the journals say it is +old-fashioned and worn-out. Life is too short for every man to prove +his faith theoretically, but it is given to all to prove its practical +value by experience, and that method of proof cannot be begun too +soon." + +"Very true," said my father. + +"I don't know why a man's religious belief (which is of course the +ground of his religious life) should be supposed to come to him +without the trouble of learning, any more than any other body of +truths and principles on which people act," Mr. Andrewes went on. "And +yet what religious instruction do young people of the educated classes +receive as a rule?--especially the boys, for girls get hold of books, +and pick up a faith somehow, though often only enough to make them +miserable and 'unsettled,' and no more. I often wonder," he added, +sitting down at the table with a laugh, "whether the mass of educated +men know less of what concerns the welfare of their souls, and all +therewith connected, or the mass of educated women of what concerns +their bodies, and all _therewith_ connected. I feel sure that both +ignorances produce untold and dire evil!" + +"So theology and natural science are to be Regie's first lessons?" +said my father, drawing me to him. + +"I've been talking on stilts, I know," said Mr. Andrewes, smiling. +"We'll use simpler terms,--duty to GOD, and duty to Man. One can't do +either without learning how, Mr. Dacre." + +I repeat this conversation as I have heard it from my father, since I +grew up and could understand it. Mr. Andrewes' educational theories +were duly put in practice for my benefit. In his efforts for my +religious education, Nurse Bundle proved an unexpected ally. When I +repeated to her some solemn truth which in his reverent and simple +manner he had explained to me; some tale he had told me of some good +man, whose example was to be followed; some bit of quaint practical +advice he had given me, or perhaps some hymn I had learned by his +side, the delight of the good old soul knew no bounds. She said it was +as good as a sermon; and as she was particularly fond of sermons, this +was a compliment. She used to beg me carefully to remember anything of +the kind that I heard, and when I repeated it, she had generally her +own word of advice to add, and wonderful tales with which to point the +moral,--tales of happy and unhappy deathbeds, of warnings, judgments, +and answers to prayer. Tales, too, of the charities of the poor, the +happiness of the afflicted, and the triumphs of the deeply tempted, +such as it is good for the wealthy, and healthy, and well-cared-for, +to listen to. Nurse Bundle's religious faith had a tinge of +superstition; that of Mr. Andrewes was more enlightened. But with both +it was a matter of every-day life, from which no hope or fear, no +sorrow or joy, no plan, no word or deed, could be separated. + +And however imperfectly, so it became with me. Like most children, I +had my own rather vivid idea of the day of judgment. The thought of +death was familiar to me. (It is seldom, I think, a painful one in +childhood.) I fully realized the couplet which concluded a certain +quaint old rhyme in honour of the four Evangelists which Nurse Bundle +had taught me to repeat in bed-- + + "If I die before I wake, + I pray the Lord my soul to take." + +I used to recite a similar one when I was dressed in the morning-- + + "If my soul depart to-day, + A place in Paradise I pray." + +When I had had a particularly pleasant ride, or enjoyed myself much +during the day, I thanked GOD specially in my evening prayers. I +remember that whatever I wished for I prayed for, in the complete +belief that this was the readiest way to obtain it. And it would be +untruth to my childish experience not to add that I never remember to +have prayed in vain. I also picked up certain little quaint +superstitions from Nurse Bundle, some of which cling to me still. +Neither she nor I ever put anything on the top of a Bible, and we +sometimes sat long in comical and uncomfortable silence because +neither of us would "scare the angel that was passing over the house." +When the first notes of the organ stirred the swallows in the church +eaves to chirp aloud, I believed with Mrs. Bundle that they were +joining in the Te Deum. And when sunshine fell on me through the +church windows during service, I regarded it as "a blessing." + +The other half of Mr. Andrewes' plan was not neglected. From him I +learnt (and it is lore to be thankful for) to use my eyes. He was a +good botanist, and his knowledge of the medicinal uses of wild herbs +ranked next to his piety to raise him in Mrs. Bundle's esteem. When +"lessons" were over, we often rode out together. As we rode through +the lanes, he taught me to distinguish the notes of the birds, to +observe what crops grow on certain soils, and at what seasons the +different plants flower and bear fruit. He made me see with my own +eyes, and hear with my own ears, for which I shall ever be grateful +to him. I fancy I can hear his voice now, saying in his curt cutting +fashion-- + +"How silly it sounds to hear anybody with a head on his shoulders say, +'I never noticed it!' What are eyes for?" + +If I admired some creeper-covered cottage, picturesquely old and +tumble-down, he would ask me how many rooms I thought it contained--if +I fancied the roof would keep out rain or snow, and how far I supposed +it was convenient and comfortable for a man and his wife and six +children to live in. In some very practical problems which he once set +me, I had to suppose myself a labourer, with nine shillings a week, +and having found out what sum that would come to in half a year, to +write on my slate how I would spend the money, to the best advantage, +in clothing and feeding two grown-up people and seven children of +various ages. As I knew nothing of the cost of the necessaries of +life, I went, by Mr. Andrewes' advice, to Nurse Bundle for help. + +"What do beef and mutton cost?" was my first question, as I sat with +an important air at the nursery table, slate in hand. + +"Now bless the dear boy's innocence?" cried Mrs. Bundle. "You may +leave the beef and mutton, love. It's not much meat a family gets +that's reared on nine shillings a week." + +After a series of calculations for oatmeal-porridge, onion-potage, and +other modest dainties, during which Mrs. Bundle constantly fell back +on the "bits of things in the garden," I said decidedly-- + +"They can't have any clothes, so it's no good thinking about it." + +"Children can't be let go bare-backed," said Mrs. Bundle, with equal +decision. "She must take in washing. For in all reason, boots can't be +expected to come out of nine shillings a week, and as many mouths to +feed." + +"She must take in washing, sir," I announced with a resigned air, and +the old-fashioned gravity peculiar to me, when I returned to the +Rectory next day. "Boots can't come out of nine shillings a week." + +The Rector smiled. + +"And suppose one of the boys catches a fever, as you did; and they +can't have other people's clothes to the house, because of the +infection. And then there will be the doctor's bill to pay--what +then?" + +By this time I had so thoroughly realized the position of the needy +family, that I had forgotten it was not a real case, or rather, that +no special one was meant. And I begged, with tears in my eyes, that I +might apply the contents of my alms-box to paying the doctor's bill. + +Many a lesson like this, with oft-repeated practical remarks about +healthy situations, proper drainage, roomy cottages, and the like, was +engraven by constant repetition on my mind, and bore fruit in after +years, when the welfare of many labourers and their families was in my +hands. + +It is difficult to convey an idea of the learning I gained from my +good friend, and yet to show how free he was from priggishness, or +from always playing the schoolmaster. He was simply the most charming +of companions, who tried to raise me to his level, and interest me in +what he knew and thought himself, instead of coming down to me, and +talking the patronizing nonsense which is so often supposed to be +acceptable to children. + +Across all the years that have parted us in this life I fancy at times +that I see his grey eyes twinkling under their thick brows once more, +and hear his voice, with its slightly rough accent, saying-- + +"_Think_, my dear lad, _think_! Pray learn to think!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE ASTHMATIC OLD GENTLEMAN AND HIS RIDDLES--I PLAY TRUANT AGAIN--IN +THE BIG GARDEN + + +It was perhaps partly because, like most only children, I was +accustomed to be with grown-up people, that I liked the way in which +Mr. Andrewes treated me, and resented the very different style of +another friend of my father, who always bantered me in a playful, +nonsensical fashion, which he deemed suitable to my years. + +The friend in question was an old gentleman, and a very benevolent +one. I think he was fond of children, and I am sure he was kind. + +He never came without giving me half-a-guinea before he left, +generally slipping it down the back of my neck, or hiding it under my +plate at dinner, or burying it in an orange. He had a whole store of +funny tricks, which would have amused and pleased me if I might have +enjoyed them in peace. But he never ceased teasing me, and playing +practical jokes on me. And the worst of it was, he teased Rubens also. + +Mr. Andrewes often afterwards told of the day when I walked into the +Rectory--my indignant air, he vowed, faithfully copied by the dog at +my heels, and without preface began: + +"I know I ought to forgive them that trespass against us, but I +can't. He put cayenne pepper on to Rubens' nose." + +In justice to ourselves, I must say that neither Rubens nor I bore +malice on this point, but it added to the anxiety which I always felt +to get out of the old gentleman's way. + +By him I was put through those riddles which puzzle all childish +brains in turn: "If a herring and a half cost threehalfpence," etc. +And if I successfully accomplished this calculation, I was tripped up +by the unfair problem, "If your grate is of such and such dimensions, +what will the coals come to?" I can hear his voice now (hoarse from a +combination of asthma and snuff-taking) as he poked me jocosely but +unmercifully "under the fifth rib," as he called it, crying-- + +"_Ashes_! my little man. D'ye see? _Ashes_! _Ashes_!" + +After which he took more snuff, and nearly choked himself with +laughing at my chagrin. + +Greatly was Nurse Bundle puzzled that night, when I stood, ready for +bed, fumbling with both hands under my nightshirt, and an expression +of face becoming a surgeon conducting a capital operation. + +"Bless the dear boy!" she cried. "What are you doing to yourself, my +dear?" + +"How does he _know_ which is the fifth rib?" I almost howled in my +vexation. "I don't believe it _was_ the fifth rib! I wish I _hadn't_ a +fifth rib! I wish I might hurt _his_ fifth rib!" + +I think the old gentleman would have choked with laughter if he could +have seen and heard me. + +One day, to my father's horror, I candidly remarked, + +"It always makes me think of the first of April, sir, when you're +here." + +I did not mean to be rude. It was simply true that the succession of +"sells" and practical jokes of which Rubens and I were the victims +during his visits did recall the tricks supposed to be sacred to the +Festival of All Fools. + +To do the old gentleman justice, he heartily enjoyed the joke at his +own expense; laughed and took snuff in extra proportions, and gave me +a whole guinea instead of half a one, saying that I should go to live +with him in Fools' Paradise, where little pigs ran about ready roasted +with knives and forks in their backs; adding more banter and nonsense +of the same kind, to the utter bewilderment of my brain. + +He was the occasion of my playing truant to the Rectory a second time. +Once, when he was expected, I took my nightshirt from my pillow, and +followed by Rubens, presented myself before the Rector as he sat at +breakfast, saying, "Mr. Carpenter is coming, and we can't endure it. +We really can't endure it. And please, sir, can you give us a bed for +the night? And I'm very sorry it isn't a clean one, but Nurse keeps +the nightgowns on the top shelf, and I didn't want her to know we were +coming." + +Mr. Andrewes kept me with him for some hours, but he persuaded me to +return and meet the old gentleman, saying that it was only due to his +real kindness to bear with his little jokes; and that I ought to try +and learn to make allowances, and "put up with" things that were not +quite to my mind. So I went back, and partly because of my efforts to +be less easily annoyed, and partly because I was older than at his +latest visit, and knew all the riddles, and could see through his +jokes more quickly, I got on very well with him. + +Very glad I was afterwards that I had gone back and spent a friendly +evening with the kind old man; for the following spring his asthma +became worse and worse, and he died. That visit was his last to us. He +teased me and Rubens no more. But when I heard of his death, I felt +what I said, that I was very sorry. He had been very kind and his +pokes and jokes were trifles to look back upon. + +Mr. Andrewes kept up his interest in my garden. Indeed, I soon got +beyond the childish way of gardening; I ceased to use my watering-pot +recklessly, and to take up my plants to see how they were getting on. +I was promoted from my little beds to some share in the large +flower-garden. My father was very fond of his flowers, and greatly +pleased to find me useful. + +Some of the happiest hours I ever spent were those in which I worked +with him in "the big garden;" Rubens lying in the sun, keeping +imaginary guard over my father's coat. We had a friendly rivalry with +the Rectory, in which I felt the highest interest. Sometimes, however, +I helped Mr. Andrewes himself, when he rewarded me with plants and +good advice. The latter often in quaint rhymes, such as + + "This rule in gardening never forget, + To sow dry, and to set wet." + +But after a time, and to my deep regret, Mr. Andrewes gave up the care +of my education. He said his duties in the parish did not allow of his +giving much time to me; and though my father had no special wish to +press my studies, and was more anxious for the benefit of the +Rector's influence, Mr. Andrewes at last persuaded him that he ought +to get a resident tutor and prepare me for a public school. + +By this time I had almost forgotten my foolish prejudice against the +imaginary Mr. Gray, and was only sorry that I could no longer do +lessons with the Rector. + +I suppose it was in answer to some inquiries that he made that my +father heard of a gentleman who wanted such a situation as ours. He +heard of him from Leo Damer's guardian, and the gentleman proved to be +the very tutor whom I had seen from the nursery windows of Aunt +Maria's house. He had remained with Leo ever since, but as Leo's +guardian had now sent him to school, the tutor was at liberty. + +In these circumstances, I felt that he was not quite a stranger, and +was prepared to receive him favourably. + +Indeed, when his arrival was close at hand, Nurse Bundle and I took an +hospitable pleasure in looking over the arrangements of his room, and +planning little details for his comfort. + +He came at last, and my father was able to announce to Aunt Maria (who +had never approved of what she called "Mr. Andrewes' desultory style +of teaching") that my education was now placed in the hands of a +resident tutor. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE TUTOR--THE PARISH--A NEW CONTRIBUTOR TO THE ALMS-BOX + + +Mr. Clerke was a small, slight, fair man. He was short-sighted, which +caused him to carry a round piece of glass about the size of a penny +in his waistcoat pocket, and from time to time to stick this into his +eye, where he held it in a very ingenious, but, as it seemed to me, +dangerous fashion. + +It took me quite a fortnight to get used to that eye-glass. It was +like a policeman's bull's-eye lantern. I never knew when it might be +turned on me. Then the glass had no rim, the edges looked quite sharp, +and the reckless way in which the tutor held it squeezed between his +cheek and eyebrow was a thing to be at once feared and admired. + +I was sitting over my Delectus one morning, unwillingly working at a +page which had been set as a punishment for some offence, with my +hands buried in my pockets, fumbling with halfpence and other +treasures there concealed, when, seeing my tutor stick his glass into +his eye as he went to the bookcase, I pulled out a halfpenny to try if +I could hold it between cheek and brow, as he held his glass. After +many failures, I had just triumphantly succeeded when he caught sight +of my reflection in a mirror, and seeing the halfpenny in my eye, my +chin in air, and my face puckered up with what must have been a +comical travesty of his own appearance, he concluded that I was +mimicking him, and defying his authority, and coming quickly up to me +he gave me a sharp box on the ear. + +In the explanation which followed, he was candid enough to apologize +handsomely for having "lost his temper," as he said; and having +remitted my task as an atonement, took me out fishing with him. + +We got on very well together. At first I think my old-fashioned ways +puzzled him, and he was also disconcerted by the questions which I +asked when we were out together. Perhaps he understood me better when +he came to know Mr. Andrewes, and learned how much I had been with +him. + +He had a very high respect for the Rector. The first walk we took +together was to call at the Rectory. We stayed luncheon, and Mr. +Andrewes had some conversation with the tutor which I did not hear. As +we came home, I was anxious to learn if Mr. Clerke did not think my +dear friend "very nice." + +"Mr. Andrewes is a very remarkable man," said the tutor. And he +constantly repeated this. "He is a very remarkable man." + +After a while Mr. Clerke ceased to be put out by my asking strange +unchildish questions which he was not always able to answer. He often +said, "We will ask Mr. Andrewes what he thinks;" and for my own part, +I respected him none the less that he often honestly confessed that he +could not, off-hand, solve all the problems that exercised my brain. +He was not a good general naturalist but he was fond of geology, and +was kind enough to take me out with him on "chipping" expeditions, and +to start me with a "collection" of fossils. I had already a collection +of flowers, a collection of shells, a collection of wafers, and a +collection of seals. (People did not collect monograms and old stamps +in my young days.) These collections were a sore vexation to Nurse +Bundle. + +"Whatever a gentleman like the Rector is thinking of, for to encourage +you in such rubbish, my dear," said she, "it passes me! It's vexing +enough to see dirt and bits about that shouldn't be, when you can take +the dust-pan and clear 'em away. But to have dead leaves, and weeds, +and stones off the road brought in day after day, and not be allowed +so much as to touch them, and a young gentleman that has things worth +golden guineas to play with, storing up a lot of stuff you could pick +off any rubbish-heap in a field before it's burned--if it was anybody +but you, my dear, I couldn't abear it. And what's a tutor for, I +should like to know?" + +(Mrs. Bundle, who at no time liked blaming her darling, had now +acquired a habit of laying the blame of any misdoings of mine on the +tutor, on the ground that he "ought to have seen to" my acting +differently.) + +If Mr. Clerke discovered that he could confess to being puzzled by +some of my questions, without losing ground in his pupil's respect, I +soon found out that my grown-up tutor had not altogether outlived +boyish feelings. It dimly dawned on me that he liked a holiday quite +as well, if not better than myself; and as we grew more intimate we +had many a race and scramble and game together, when bookwork was over +for the day. He rode badly, but with courage, and the mishaps he +managed to suffer when riding the quietest and oldest of my father's +horses were food for fun with him as well as with me. + +He told me that he was going to be a clergyman, and on Sunday +afternoons we commonly engaged in strong religious discussions. During +the fruit season it was also our custom on that day to visit the +kitchen-garden after luncheon, where we ate gooseberries, and settled +our theological differences. There is a little low, hot stone seat by +one of the cucumber frames on which I never can seat myself now +without recollections of the flavour of the little round, hairy, red +gooseberries, and of a lengthy dispute which I held there with Mr. +Clerke, and which began by my saying that I looked forward to meeting +Rubens "in a better world." I distinctly remember that I could bring +forward so little authority for my belief, and the tutor so little +against it, that we adjourned by common consent to the Rectory to take +Mr. Andrewes' opinion, and taste his strawberries. + +I feel quite sure that Mr. Clerke, as well as myself, strongly felt +the Rector's influence. He often said in after-years how much he owed +to him for raising his aims and views about the sacred office which he +purposed to fill. He had looked forward to being a clergyman as to a +profession towards which his education and college career had tended, +and which, he hoped, would at last secure him a comfortable livelihood +through the interest of some of his patrons. But intercourse with the +Rector gave a higher tone to his ideas. He would have been a clergyman +of high character otherwise, but now he aimed at holiness; he would +never have been an idle one, but now his wish was to learn how much he +could do, and how well he could do that much for the people who should +be committed to his charge. He was by no means a reticent man, he +liked sympathy, and soon got into the habit of confiding in me for +want of a better friend. Thus as he began to take a most earnest +interest in parish work, and in schemes for the benefit of the people, +our Sunday conversations became less controversial, and we gossiped +about schools and school-treats, cricket-clubs, drunken fathers, +slattern mothers, and spoiled children, and how the evening hymn +"went" after the sermon on Sunday, like district visitors at a parish +tea-party. What visions of improvement amongst our fellow-creatures we +saw as we wandered about amongst the gooseberry-bushes, Rubens +following at my heels, and eating a double share from the lower +branches, since his mouth had not to be emptied for conversation! We +often got parted when either of us wandered off towards special and +favourite trees. Those bearing long, smooth green gooseberries like +grapes, or the highly-ripened yellows, or the hairy little reds. Then +we shouted bits of gossip, or happy ideas that struck us, to each +other across the garden. And full of youth and hopefulness, in the +sunshine of these summer Sundays, we gave ourselves credit for +clear-sightedness in all our opinions, and promised ourselves success +for every plan, and gratitude from all our protégés. + +Mr. Andrewes had started a Sunday School with great success (Sunday +Schools were novelties then), and Mr. Clerke was a teacher. At last, +to my great delight, I was allowed to take the youngest class, and to +teach them their letters and some of the Catechism. + +About this time I firmly resolved to be a parson when I grew up. My +great practical difficulty on this head was that I must, of course, +live at Dacrefield, and yet I could not be the Rector. My final +decision I announced to Mr. Andrewes. + +"Mr. Clerke and I will always be curates, and work under you." + +On which the tutor would sigh, and say, "I wish it could be so, Regie, +for I do not think I shall ever like any other place, or church, or +people so well again." + +At this time my alms-box was well filled, thanks to the liberality of +Mr. Clerke. He now taxed his small income as I taxed my pocket-money +(a very different matter!), and though I am sure he must sometimes +have been inconveniently poor, he never failed to put by his share of +our charitable store. + +Some brooding over the matter led me to say to him one Sunday, "You +and I, sir, are like the widow and the other people in the lesson +to-day: I put into the box out of my pocket-money, and you out of your +living." + +The tutor blushed painfully; partly, I think, at my accurate +comprehension of the difference between our worldly lots, and partly +in sheer modesty at my realizing the measure of his self-sacrifice. + +When first he began to contribute, he always kept back a certain sum, +which he as regularly sent away, to whom I never knew. He briefly +explained, "It is for a good object." But at last a day came when he +announced, "I no longer have that call upon me." And as at the same +time he put on a black tie, and looked grave for several days, I +judged that some poor relation, who was now dead, had been the object +of his kindness. He spoke once more on the subject, when he thanked me +for having led him to put by a fixed sum for such purposes, and added, +"The person to whom I have been accustomed to send that share of the +money said that it was worth double to have it regularly." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE TUTOR'S PROPOSAL--A TEACHERS' MEETING + + +I think it was Mr. Clerke who first suggested that we should take the +Sunday scholars and teachers for a holiday trip. Such things are +matters of course now in every parish, but in my childhood it was +considered a most marvellous idea by our rustic population. The tutor +had heard of some extraordinarily active parson who had done the like +by his schools, and partly from real kindness, and partly in the +spirit of emulation which intrudes even upon schemes of benevolence, +he was most anxious that we at Dacrefield should not "be behindhand" +in good works. Competition is a feeling with which children have great +sympathy, and I warmly echoed Mr. Clerke's resolve that we would not +"be behindhand." + +"Let us go to the Rectory at once," said I; "Mr. Andrewes said we +might have some of those big yellow raspberries, and we must ask him +about it. It's a splendid idea. But where shall we go?" + +The matter resolved itself into this question. The Rector was quite +willing for the treat. My father gave us a handsome subscription; the +farmers followed the Squire's lead. Mr. Andrewes was not behindhand. +The tutor and I considered the object a suitable one for aid from our +alms-box. There was no difficulty whatever. Only--where were we to +go? + +Finally, we all decided that we would go to Oakford. + +It was not because Oakford had been the end of our consultation long +ago, after my illness, nor because Nurse Bundle had any voice in the +matter, it was a certain bullet-headed, slow-tongued old farmer, one +of our teachers, who voted for our going to Oakford; and more by +persistently repeating his advice than by any very strong reasons +there seemed to be for our following it, he carried the day. + +"I've know'd Oakford, man and boy, for twenty year," he repeated, at +intervals of three minutes or so, during what would now be called a +"teachers' meeting" in the school-room. In fact, Oakford was his +native place, though he was passing his old age in Dacrefield, and he +had a natural desire to see it again, and a natural belief that the +spot where he had been young and strong, and light-hearted, had +especial merits of its own. + +Even though we had nothing better to propose, old Giles' love for home +would hardly have decided us, but he had something more to add. There +was a "gentleman's place" on the outskirts of Oakford, which +sometimes, in the absence of the family, was "shown" to the public: +old Giles had seen it as a boy, and the picture he drew of its glories +fairly carried us away, the Rector and tutor excepted. They shrugged +their shoulders with faces of comical despair as the old man, having +fairly taken the lead, babbled on about the "picters," the "stattys," +and the "yaller satin cheers" in the grand drawing-room; whilst the +other teachers listened with open mouths, and an evident and growing +desire to see Oakford Grange. I did not half believe in old Giles' +wonders, and yet I wished to see the place myself, if only to learn +how much of all he described to us was true. I supposed that "the +family" must have been at home when I was at Oakford, or Mr. and Mrs. +Buckle would surely have taken me to see the Grange. + +The Rector suggested that the family might be at home now, and we +might have our expedition for nothing; but it appeared that old Giles' +sister's grandson had been over to see his great-uncle only a +fortnight ago, "come Tuesday," and had distinctly stated that the +family "was in furrin' parts," and would be so for months to come. +Moreover, he had said that there was a rumour that the place was to be +sold, and nobody knew if the next owner would allow it to be "shown," +even in his absence. Thus it was evident that if we wanted to see the +Grange, it must be "now or never." + +On hearing this, our fattest and richest farmer (he took an upper +class in school more in deference to his position than to the rather +scanty education which accompanied it) rose and addressed the Rector +as follows:-- + +"Reverend sir. I takes the liberty of rising and addressin' of you, +with my respex to yourself and Mr. Clerke, and the young gentleman as +represents the Squire I've a-been tenant to, man and boy, this thirty +year and am proud to name it." (Murmurs of applause from one or two +other farmers present, my father being very popular.) + +"Reverend sir. I began with bird-scaring, and not a penny in my +pocket, that wouldn't have held coppers for holes, if I had, and +clothes that would have scared of themselves, letting alone clappers. +The Squire knows how much of his land I have under my hand now, and +your reverence is acquainted with the years I've been churchwarden. + +"Reverend Sir. I am proud to have rose by my own exertions. I never +iggerantly set _my_self against improvements and opportoonities." +(Gloom upon the face of the teacher of the fourth class, who objected +to machinery, and disbelieved in artificial manures.) "_My_ mottor 'as +allus been, 'Never lose a chance;' and that's what I ses on this +occasion; 'never lose a chance.'" + +As our churchwarden backed his advice by offering to lend waggons and +horses to take us to Oakford, if the other farmers would do the same, +his speech decided the matter. We all wanted to go to Oakford, and to +Oakford it was decided that we should go. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +OAKFORD ONCE MORE--THE SATIN CHAIRS--THE HOUSEKEEPER--THE LITTLE +LADIES AGAIN--FAMILY MONUMENTS + + +The expedition was very successful, and we all returned in safety to +Dacrefield; rather, I think, to the astonishment of some of the +good-wives of the village, who looked upon any one who passed the +parish bounds as a traveller, and thought our jaunt to Oakford +"venturesome" almost to a "tempting of Providence." + +It is a curious study to observe what things strike different people +on occasions of this kind. + +It was not the house itself, though the building was remarkably fine +(a modern erection on the site of the old "Grange"), nor the natural +features of the place, though they were especially beautiful, that +roused the admiration of our teachers and their scholars. Somebody +said that the house was "a deal bigger than the Hall" (at Dacrefield), +and one or two criticisms were passed upon the timber; but the noble +park, the grand slopes, the lovely peeps of distance, the exquisite +taste displayed in the grounds and gardens about the house, drew +little attention from our party. Within, the succession of big rooms +became confusing. One or two bits in certain pictures were pronounced +by the farmers "as natteral as life;" the "stattys" rather +scandalized them, and the historical legends attached by the +housekeeper to various pieces of furniture fell upon ears too little +educated to be interested. But when we got to the big drawing-room the +yellow satin chairs gave general and complete satisfaction. When old +Giles said, "Here they be!" we felt that all he had told us before was +justified, and that we had not come to Oakford in vain. We stroked +them, some of the more adventurous sat upon them, and we echoed the +churchwarden's remark, "Yaller satin, sure enough, and the backs +gilded like a picter-frame." + +I cannot but think that the housekeeper must have had friends visiting +her that day, which made our arrival inconvenient and tried her +temper--she was so very cross. She ran through a hasty account of each +room in injured tones, but she resented questions, refused +explanations, and was particularly irritable if anybody strayed from +the exact order in which she chose to marshal us through the house. A +vein of sarcasm in her remarks quite overpowered our farmers. + +"Please to stand off the walls. There ain't no need to crowd up +against them in spacyous rooms like these, and the paper ain't one of +your cheap ones with a spotty pattern as can be patched or matched +anywhere. It come direct from the Indies, and the butterflies and the +dragons is as natteral as life. 'Whose picter's that in the last +room?' You should have kept with the party, young woman, and then +you'd 'ave knowed. Parties who don't keep with the party, and then +wants the information repeated, will be considered as another party, +and must pay accordingly. Next room, through the white door to the +left. Now, sir, we're a-waiting for you! All together, if you +please!" + +[Illustration: "All together, if you please!"] + +But in spite of the good lady, I generally managed to linger behind, +or run before, and so to look at things in my own way. Once, as she +was rehearsing the history of a certain picture, I made my way out of +the room, and catching sight of some pretty things through an open +door at the end of the passage, I went in to see what I could see. +Some others were following me when the housekeeper spied them, and +bustled up, angrily recalling us, for the room, as we found, was a +private _boudoir_, and not one of those shown to the public. In my +brief glance, however, I had seen something which made me try to get +some information out of the housekeeper, in spite of her displeasure. + +"Who are those little girls in the picture by the sofa?" I asked. +"Please tell me." + +"I gives all information in reference to the public rooms," replied +the housekeeper, loftily, "as in duty bound; but the private rooms is +not in my instructions." + +And nothing more could I get out of her to explain the picture which +had so seized upon my fancy. + +It was a very pretty painting--a modern one. Just the heads and +shoulders of two little girls, one of them having her face just below +that of the other, whose little arms were round her sister's neck. I +knew them in an instant. There was no mistaking that look of decision +in the face of the protecting little damsel, nor the wistful appealing +glance in the eyes of the other. The artist had caught both most +happily; and though the fair locks I had admired were uncovered, I +knew my little ladies of the beaver bonnets again. + +Having failed to learn anything about them from the housekeeper, I +went to old Giles and asked him the name of the gentleman to whom the +place belonged. + +"St. John," he replied. + +"I suppose he has got children?" I continued. + +"Only one living," said old Giles. "They do say he've buried six, most +on 'em in galloping consumptions. It do stand to reason they've had +all done for 'em that gold could buy, but afflictions, sir, they be as +heavy on the rich man as the poor; and when a body's time be come it +ain't outlandish oils nor furrin parts can cure 'em." + +I wondered which of the quaint little ladies had died, and whether +they had taken her to "furrin parts" before her death; and I thought +if it were the grey-eyed little maid, how sad and helpless her little +sister must be. + +"Only one left?" I said mechanically. + +"Ay, ay," said old Giles; "and he be pretty bad, I fancy. They've got +him in furrin parts where the sun shines all along; but they do say he +be wild to get back home, but that'll not be, but in his coffin, to be +laid with the rest in the big vault. Ay, ay, affliction spares none, +sir, nor yet death." + +So this last of the St. John family was a boy. If the little ladies +were his sisters, both must be dead; if not, I did not know who they +were. I felt very angry with the housekeeper for her sulky reticence. +I was also not highly pleased by her manner of treating me, for she +evidently took me for one of the Sunday-school boys. I fear it was +partly a shabby pride on this point which led me to "tip" her with +half-a-crown on my own account when we were taking leave. In a moment +she became civil to slavishness, hoped I had enjoyed myself, and +professed her willingness to show me anything about the place any day +when there were not so "many of them school children crowging and +putting a body out, sir. There's such a many common people comes, +sir," she added, "I'm quite wored out, and having no need to be in +service, and all my friends a-begging of me to leave. I only stays to +oblige Mr. St. John." + +It was, I think, chiefly in the way I had of thinking aloud that I +said, more to myself than to her, "I'm sure I don't know what makes +him keep you, you do it so very badly. But perhaps you're +respectable." + +The half-crown had been unexpected, and this blow fairly took away her +breath. Before her rage found words, we were gone. + +I did not fail to call on Mr. and Mrs. Buckle. The shop looked just +the same as when I was there with Mrs. Bundle. One would have said +those were the very rolls of leather that used to stand near the door. +The good people were delighted to see me, and proud to be introduced +to Mr. Andrewes and my tutor. I had brought some little presents with +me, both from myself and Nurse Bundle, which gave great satisfaction. + +"And where is Jemima?" I asked, as I sat nursing an imposing-looking +parcel addressed to her, which was a large toilette pincushion made +and ready furnished with pins for her by Mrs. Bundle herself. + +"Now, did you ever!" cried Mrs. Buckle in her old style; "to think of +the young gentleman's remembering our Jemima, and she married to Jim +Espin the tinsmith this six months past." + +So to the tinsmith's I went, and Jemima was, as she expressed it, +"that pleased she didn't know where to put herself," by my visit. She +presented me with a small tin lantern on which I had made some remark, +and which pleased me well. I saw the drawer of farthing wares also, +and might have had a flat iron had I been so minded; but I was too old +now to want it for a plaything, and too young yet to take it as a +remembrance of the past. + +I asked Mrs. Buckle about the two little beaver-bonneted ladies, but +she did not help me much. She did not remember them. They might be Mr. +St. John's little girls; he had buried four. A many ladies wore beaver +bonnets then. This was all she could say, so I gave up my inquiries. +It was as we were on our way from the Buckles to join the rest of the +party that Mr. Clerke caught sight of the quaint little village +church, and as churches and church services were matters of great +interest to us just then, the two parsons, the churchwarden, five +elder scholars and myself got the key from the sexton and went to +examine the interior. + +It was an old and rather dilapidated building. The glass in the east +window was in squares of the tint and consistency of "bottle glass," +except where one fragment of what is technically known as "ruby" bore +witness that there had once been a stained window there. There were +dirty calico blinds to do duty for stained glass in moderating the +light; dirt, long gathered, had blunted the sharpness of the tracery +on the old carved stalls in the chancel, where the wood-worms of +several generations had eaten fresh patterns of their own, and the +squat, solemn little carved figures seemed to moulder under one's +eyes. In the body of the church were high pews painted white, and four +or five old tombs with life-size recumbent figures fitted in oddly +with these, and a skimpy looking prayer-desk, pulpit, and font, which +were squeezed together between the half-rotten screen and a stone +knight in armour. + +"Pretty tidy," said our churchwarden, tapping of the pews with a +patronising finger; "but bless and save us, Mr. Andrewes, sir, the +walls be disgraceful dirty, and ten shillings' worth of lime and +labour would make 'em as white as the driven snow. The sexton says +there be a rate, and if so, why don't they whitewash and paint a bit, +and get rid of them rotten old seats, and make things a bit decent? +You don't find a many places to beat Dacrefield, sir, go as far as you +will," he added complacently, and with an air of having exhausted +experience in the matter of country churches. + +"Them old figures," he went on, "they puts me in mind of one my father +used to tell us about, that was in Dacrefield Church. A man with a +kind of cap on his face, and his feet crossed, and very pointed toes, +and a sword by his side." + +"At Dacrefield?" cried Mr. Andrewes; "surely there isn't a Templar at +Dacrefield?" + +"It were in the old church that came down," continued the +churchwarden, "in the old Squire's time. There was a deal of ancient +rubbish cleared out then, sir, I've heard, and laid in the stackyard +at the Hall. It were when my father were employed as mason under +'brick and mortar Benson,' as they called him, for repairs of a wall, +and they were short of stones, and they chipped up the figure I be +telling you of. My father allus said he knowed the head was put in +whole, and many's the time I've looked for it when a boy." + +I think Mr. Andrewes could endure the churchwarden's tale of former +destructiveness no longer, and he abruptly called us to come away. I +was just running to join the rest at the door, when my eye fell upon +a modern tablet of marble above a large cushioned pew. Like the other +monuments in the church, it was sacred to the memory of members of the +St. John family, and, as I found recorded the names of the wife and +six children of the present owner of the estate. Very pathetic, after +the record of such desolation, were the words of Job (cut below the +bas-relief at the bottom, which, not very gracefully, represented a +broken flower): "The LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away: blessed +be the name of the LORD." + +Mr. Clerke was hurrying back up the church to fetch me as I read the +text. I had just time to see that the last two names were the names of +girls, before I had to join him. + +Amy and Lucy. Were those indeed the dainty little children who such a +short time ago were living, and busy like myself, happy with the +tinsmith's toys, and sad for a drenched doll? Wild speculations +floated through my head as I followed the tutor, without hearing one +word of what he was saying about tea and teachers, and reaching +Dacrefield before dark. + +I had wished to be their brother. Supposing it had been so, and that I +were now withering under the family doom, homesick and sick unto death +"in furrin parts!" My last supposition I thought aloud: + +"I suppose they know all the old knights, and those people in ruffs, +with their sons and daughters kneeling behind them, now. That is, if +they were good, and went to heaven." + +"_Who_ do you suppose know the people in the ruffs?" asked the +bewildered tutor. + +"Amy and Lucy St. John," said I; "the children who died last." + +"Well, Regie, you certainly _do_ say _the_ most _sin_gular things," +said Mr. Clerke. + +But that was a speech he often made, with the emphasis as it is given +here. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +NURSE BUNDLE FINDS A VOCATION--RAGGED ROBIN'S WIFE--MRS. BUNDLE'S +IDEAS ON HUSBANDS AND PUBLIC-HOUSES + + +I was very happy under Mr. Clerke's sway, and yet I was glad to go to +school. + +The tutor himself, who had been "on the foundation" at Eton, had +helped to fill me with anticipations of public-school life. It was +decided that I also should go to Eton, but as an oppidan, and becoming +already a partisan of my own part of the school, I often now disputed +conclusions or questioned facts in my tutor's school anecdotes, which +commonly tended to the sole glorification of the "collegers." + +I must not omit to mention an interview that about this period took +place between my father and Mrs. Bundle. It was one morning just after +the Eton matter had been settled, that my nurse presented herself in +my father's library, her face fatter and redder than usual from being +swollen and inflamed by weeping. + +"Well?" said my father, looking up pleasantly from his accounts. But +he added hastily, "Why, bless me, Mrs. Bundle, what is the matter?" + +"Asking your pardon for troubling you, sir," Nurse Bundle began in a +choky voice, "but as you made no mention of it yourself, sir, your +kindness being what it is, and the young gentleman as good as gone to +school, and me eating the bread of idleness ever since that tutor +come, I wished to know, sir, when you thought of giving me notice." + +"Give you notice to do what?" asked my father. + +"To leave your service, sir," said Mrs. Bundle, steadily. "There's no +nurse wanted in this establishment now, sir." + +My father laid one hand on Mrs. Bundle's shoulder, and with the other +he drew forward a miniature of my mother which always hung on a +standing frame on the writing-table. + +"It is like yourself to be so scrupulous," he said; "but you will +never again speak of leaving us, Mrs. Bundle. Please, for her sake," +added my father, his own voice faltering as he looked towards the +miniature. As for Nurse Bundle, her tears utterly forbade her to get +out a word. + +"If you have too much to do," my father went on, "let a young girl be +got to relieve you of any work that troubles you; or, if you very much +wish for a home to yourself, I have no right to refuse that, though I +wish you could be happy under my roof, and I will see about one of +those cottages near the gate. But you will not desert me--and +Reginald--after so many years." + +"The day I do leave will be the breaking of my heart," sobbed Nurse +Bundle, "and if there was any ways in which I could be useful--but +take wages for nothing, I could not, sir." + +"Mrs. Bundle," said my father, "if your wages were a matter of any +importance to me, if I could not afford even to pay you for your work, +I should still ask you to share my home, with such comforts as I had +to offer, and to help me so far as you could, for the sake of the +past. I must always be under an obligation to you which I can never +repay," added my father, in his rather elaborate style. "And as to +being useful, well, ahem, if you will kindly continue to superintend +and repair my linen and Master Reginald's ----" + +"Why, bless your innocence, sir, and meaning no disrespect," said Mrs. +Bundle, "but there ain't no mending in _your_ linen. There was some +darning in the tutor's socks, but you give away half-a-dozen pair last +Monday, sir, as hadn't a darn in 'em no bigger than a pea." + +I think it was the allusion to "giving away" that suggested an idea to +my father in his perplexity for employing Nurse Bundle. + +"Stay," he exclaimed, "Mrs. Bundle, there is a way in which you could +be of the greatest service to me. I often feel that the loss of a lady +at the head of my household must be especially felt among the poor +people around us--additionally so, as Mr. Andrewes is not married, and +there is no lady either at the Rectory or here to visit the sick and +encourage the mothers and children. I fear that when I do anything for +them it is often in a wrong way, or for wrong objects." + +"Well, sir," said Mrs. Bundle, an old grievance rushing to her mind, +"I had thought myself of making so bold as to speak to you about that +there Tommy Masden as you give half-crowns to, as tells you one big +lie on the top of another, and his father drinks every penny he earns, +and his mother at the back-door all along for scraps, and throwed the +Christmas soup to the pig, and said they wasn't come to the workus +yet; and a coat as good as new of yours, sir, hanging out of the door +of the pawnshop, and giving me such a turn I thought my legs would +never have carried me home, till I found you'd given it to that Tommy, +who won't do a hand's turn for sixpence, but begs at every house in +the parish every week as comes round, and tells everybody, as he tells +yourself, sir, that he never gets nothing from nobody." + +"Well, well," said my father, laughing, "you see how I want somebody +to look out the real cases of distress and deserving poverty. Of +course, I must speak to Mr. Andrewes first, Mrs. Bundle, but I am sure +he will be as glad as myself that you should do what we have neither +of us a wife to undertake." + +I know Nurse Bundle was only too glad to reconcile her honest +conscience to staying at Dacrefield; and I think the allusion to the +lack of a lady head to our household decided her at all risks to +remove that reason for a second Mrs. Dacre. Moreover, the duties +proposed for her suited her tastes to a shade. + +Mr. Andrewes was delighted. And thus it came about that, though my +father would have been horrified at the idea of employing a Sister of +Mercy, and though Bible-woman and district visitor were names not +familiar in our simple parochial machinery, Mrs. Bundle did the work +of all three to the great benefit of our poor neighbours. + +Not, however, to the satisfaction of those who had hitherto leant most +upon the charity of the Hall. A certain picturesquely tattered man, +living at some distance from the village, who was in the habit of +waylaying my father at certain points on the estate, with well-timed +agricultural remarks and a cunning affectation of half-wittedness and +good-humour, got henceforward no half-crowns for his pains. + +"Mrs. Bundle has knocked off all my pensioners," my father would +laughingly complain. But he was quite willing that the half-crowns +should now be taken direct to the man's wife and children, instead of +passing from his hands to the public-house. "Though really the good +woman--for I understand she is a most excellent person--is singularly +hard-favoured," my father added, "and looks more as if she thrashed +old Ragged Robin than as if he beat her, as I hear he does." + +"Nothing inside, and the poker outside, makes a many women as they've +no wish to sit for their picter," said Mrs. Bundle, severely, in reply +to some remark of mine, reflecting, like my father's, on the said +woman's appearance. "And when a woman has children, and their father +brings home nothing but kicks and bad language, in all reason if it +isn't the death or the ruin of her, it makes her as she 'asn't much +time nor spirits to spare for dropping curtseys and telling long tales +like some people as is always scrap-seeking at gentry's back-doors. +But I knows a clean place when I takes it unawares, and clothes with +more patch than stuff, and all the colour washed out of them, and +bruises hid, and a bad husband made the best of, and children as knows +how to behave themselves." + +The warmth of Mrs. Bundle's feelings only prompted me to tease her; +and it was chiefly for "the fun of working her up" that I said-- + +"Ah, but, Nurse, you know we heard she went after him one night to the +public-house, and made a row before everybody. I don't mean he ought +to go to the public-house, but still, I'm sure if I'd a wife who came +and hunted me up when she thought I ought to be indoors, I'd--well, +I'd try and teach her to stay at home. Besides, women ought to be +gentle, and perhaps if she were sweeter-tempered with him, he'd be +kinder to her." + +"Do you know what she went for, Master Reginald?" said Nurse Bundle. +"Not a halfpenny does he give her to feed the children with, and +everything in that house that's got she gets by washing. And the rich +folk she washed for kept her waiting for her money--more shame to 'em; +there was weeks run on, and she borrowed a bit, and pawned a bit, and +when she went the day they said they'd pay her, he'd been before and +drawed the money, and was drinking it up when she went to see if she +could get any, and then laughed at her, and sent her back to the +children as was starving, and the neighbour she'd borrowed of as +called her a thief and threatened to have her up. Gentle! why, bless +your innocence, who ever knowed gentleness do good to a drunkard? She +should have stood up to him sooner, and he'd never have got so bad. +She's kept his brute ways to herself and made his home comfortable +with her own earnings, till he thinks he may do anything and never +bring in nothing. She did lay out some of his behaviour before him +that day, and he beat her for it afterwards. But if it had been me, +Master Reginald, I'd have had money to feed them children, or I'd have +fought him while I'd a bit of breath in my body." + +And with all my respect for Nurse Bundle, I am bound to say that I +think she would have been as good as her word. + +"Go to your tutor, my dear," she continued, "and talk Latin and Greek +and such like, as you knows about; but don't talk rubbish about +pretty looks and ways for a woman as is tied to a drunkard, for I +can't abear it. I seed enough of husbands and public-houses in my +young days to keep me a single woman and my own missis. Not but what +I've had my feelings like other folk, and plenty of offers, besides a +young cabinet-maker as had high wages and the beautifullest complexion +you ever saw. But he was overfond of company; so I went to service, +and cried myself to sleep every night for three months; and when next +I see him he was staggering along the street, and I says, 'I'm sorry +to see you like this, William,' and he says, 'It's your doing, Mary; +your No's drove me to the glass.' And I says, 'Then it's best as it +is. If one No drove you to the glass, you and married life wouldn't +suit, for there's plenty of Noes there.' So I left him wiping his +eyes, for he always cried when he was in beer. And I says to myself, +'I'll go back to place, where I knows what I'm working for, and can +leave it if we don't suit.' And it was always the same, my dear. If it +was a nice-looking footman, he'd have his evening out and come home +fresh; and if it was an elderly butler as had put a little by, he +wanted to set up in the public line. So I kept myself to myself, my +dear, for I'm short-tempered at the best, and could never put up with +the abuse of a man in liquor." + +I was so thoroughly converted to the side of Ragged Robin's wife, that +I at once pressed some of my charity money on Mrs. Bundle for her +benefit; but I tried to dispute my nurse's unfavourable view of +husbands by instancing her worthy brother-in-law at Oakford. + +"Ah, yes, Buckle," said Mrs. Bundle, in a tone which seemed to do +less justice to the saddler's good qualities than they deserved. "He's +a good, soft, easy body, is Buckle." + +Whence I concluded that Mrs. Bundle, like some other ladies, was not +altogether easy to please. + +I think it was during our last walk through the village before Mr. +Clerke left us, that he and I called on Ragged Robin's wife. She was +thankful, but not communicative, and the eyes, deep set in her bony +and discoloured face, seemed to have lost the power of lighting up +with hope. + +"My dear Regie," said Mr. Clerke, as we turned homewards, "I never saw +anything more pitiable than the look in that woman's eyes; and the +tone in which she said, 'There be a better world afore us all, +sir--I'll be well off then,' when I said I hoped she'd be better off +and happier now, quite went to my heart. I'm afraid she never will +have much comfort in this world, unless she outlives her lord and +master. Do you know, Regie, she reminds me very much of an ill-treated +donkey; her bones look so battered, and there's a sort of stubborn +hopelessness about her like some poor Neddy who is thwacked and tugged +this way and that, work he never so hard. Poor thing, she may well +look forward to Heaven," added my tutor, whose kind heart was very +sore on this subject, "and it's a blessed thought how it will make up, +even for such a life here!" + +"What will make it up to the donkeys?" I asked, taking Mr. Clerke at a +disadvantage on that standing subject of dispute between us--a "better +world" for beasts. + +But my tutor only said, "My dear Regie, you _do_ say _the_ most +_sin_gular things!" which, as I pointed out, was no argument, one way +or another. + +Meanwhile, through Mrs. Bundle, we did our best for Robin's wife and +certain other ill-treated women about the place. Mrs. Bundle could be +very severe on the dirt and discomfort which "drove some men to the +public as would stay at home if there was a clean kitchen to stay in, +and less of that nagging at a man and screaming after children as +never made a decent husband nor a well-behaved child yet." Yet in +certain cases of undeserved brutality, like Robin's, I fear she +sometimes counselled resistance, on the principle that it "couldn't +make him do worse, and might make him do better." + +I am sure that my father had never thought of Mrs. Bundle acting as +sick nurse in the village; but matters seemed to develop of +themselves. She was so experienced and capable that she could hardly +fail to smoothe the disordered bed-clothes, open the window, clear the +room of the shiftless gossips who flocked like ravens to predict +death, and take the control of mismanaged sick-rooms. It came to be a +common thing that some wan child should present itself at our door +with the message that "Missis Bundle she wants her things, for as +mother be so bad, she says she'll see her over the night." + +As for herself, I doubt if she had ever been happier in her life. Her +conscience was at ease, for she certainly worked hard enough for her +wages, and it was good to see the glow of pleasure that an +oft-repeated remark of my father's never failed to bring over her +honest face. + +"Don't overwork yourself, Mrs. Bundle. What should we do if you were +laid up?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +I GO TO ETON--MY MASTER--I SERVE HIM WELL + + +I went joyfully to school the first time, but each succeeding half +with less and less willingness. And yet my school-days were very happy +ones, especially to look back upon. + +"You will be in the same tutor's house as Lionel Damer," said my +father; "and I have written to ask him to befriend you." + +"Just the sort of idiotic thing parents do do," said Sir Lionel, on +our first meeting. "You may thank your stars I don't pay you off for +it." + +Leo had grown much taller since we met, but he had lost none of his +beauty. I was overpowered by his noble appearance and the air of +authority he wore, and then and there gave him the hero-worship of my +heart. It was with a thrill of delight that I heard him add, "However, +I want a fag, and I dare say I can take you. Any sock with you?" + +"Oh, yes, Leo," said I, hastily; "a big hamper. And there are two +cakes, and a pigeon pie, and lots of jam, and some macaroons and +turnovers, and two bottles of raspberry vinegar." + +"My name's Damer," said Leo. "Can you cook?" + +"Not yet, Damer," said I, hoping that my answer conveyed my +willingness to learn. For I was quite prepared for all the duties of +fag life from Mr. Clerke's descriptions. And I was prepared to perform +them, pending the time when I should have a fag of my own. + +I must do Leo justice. His tyranny was merciful. I was soon expert in +preparing his breakfast. I used to fetch him hot dishes from the shop. +My own cooking was not good, and I made, so he said, the most +execrable coffee, which led him to fling the contents of the pot at me +one morning, ruining my shirt, trickling hot and wet down my body +under my clothes, and giving me infinite trouble in cleaning his +carpet. (As to _his_ coffee, and the salad dressing he made, and his +cooking generally, when he chose to do it, I have never met with +anything like it since. However, things taste well in one's +school-days.) + +Leo Damer was one of those people who seem able to do everything just +a little better than his neighbours, without attaining overwhelming +superiority in any one line. The masters always complained that he did +not do as much in school as he might have done, and yet he stood well +with them. His conduct was of the highest. I may say here that, +knowing him intimately in boyhood and youth, I am able to assert that +his moral conduct was always "without reproach." His own freedom from +vice, and the tight hand he kept over me, who lived but to admire and +imitate him, were of such benefit to me in the manifold temptations of +school-life as I can never forget. His self-respect amounted to +self-esteem, his love for other people's good opinion to a failing, he +was refined to fastidiousness; but I think these characteristics +helped him towards the exceptional character he bore. A keen +sensitiveness to pain and discomfort, and considerable natural +indolence, further tended to keep him out of scrapes into which an +adventurous spirit led many more reckless boys. He had never been +flogged, and he said he never would be. "I would drown myself sooner," +he said to me. And if any dark touch were wanting to complete my +hero's portrait, it was given by this terrible threat, in which I put +full faith. + +He was a dandy, and his dressing-table was the plague of my life. Well +do I remember breaking some invaluable toilette preparation on it, and +the fit of rage in which he flung the broken bottle at my head. He was +very sorry when his first wrath was past, and he bound up my head, and +gave me a pound of sausages, and a superbly bound copy of Young's +"Night Thoughts," which I still possess. I also retain a white scar +above one of my eyes, in common with at least eight out of every ten +men I know. + +"Do you ever hear from your cousin?" Sir Lionel asked one day in +careless tones. + +"Polly writes to me sometimes," said I. + +"You can show me the next letter you get," said Sir Lionel +condescendingly; which I accordingly did, and thenceforward he saw all +my letters from her. I was soon clever enough to discover that Leo +liked to be asked after by his old friends, and to receive messages +from them, which led me to write to Polly, begging her always to send +"nice messages" to Sir Lionel, as he would then treat me well, and +perhaps give me some of his smoked bacon for breakfast. Her reply was +characteristic: + +"MY DEAR REGIE,--" + + I shan't send nice messages to Leo. I am sorry you showed + him the letter where I said he was handsome. Handsome is + that handsome does, and if he treats you badly he is very + ugly, and I hate him. If he doesn't give you any bacon, he's + very mean. You may tell him what I say. + +"I am your affectionate cousin, + +"POLLY." + +I was obliged to hide this letter from Leo; but when he asked me if I +had heard from Polly I could not lie to him, and he sent me to +Coventry for withholding the letter. I bore a day and a half of his +silence and neglect; then I could endure it no longer, and showed him +the letter. He was less angry than I expected. He coloured and +laughed, and called me a little fool for writing such stuff to Polly, +and said her answer was just like her. Then he gave me some of the +bacon, and we were good friends again. + +But the seal of our friendship was a certain occasion when I saved him +from the only flogging with which he was ever threatened. + +He was unjustly believed to be concerned in an insolent breach of +certain orders, and was sentenced to a flogging which was really the +due of another lad whom he was too proud to betray. He would not even +condescend to remonstrate with the boy who was meanly allowing him to +suffer, and betrayed his anguish in the matter so little that I doubt +if the real culprit (who never was a week unflogged himself) had any +idea what the punishment was to poor Leo. + +He hid himself from us all; but in the evening I got into his room, +where I found him, pale and silent, putting some things into a little +bag. + +"Little one!" he cried, "I know you can keep a secret. I want you to +help me off. I'm going to run away." + +"Oh Damer!" I cried; "but supposing you're caught; it'll be much worse +then." + +"They won't catch me," he said, his lip quivering. "I can disguise +myself. And I shall never come back till I'm a man. My guardian would +bring me here again. He thinks a man can hardly be a gentleman unless +he was well flogged in his youth. Look here old fellow, I've left +everything here to you. Keep out of mischief as I've shown you how, +and--and--you'll tell Polly I wasn't to blame." + +I was now weeping bitterly. "Dear Damer," said I, "you can't disguise +yourself. Anybody would know you; you're too good-looking. Damer," I +added abruptly, "did you ever pray for things? I used to at home, and +do you know, they always came true. Wait for me, I'll be back soon," I +concluded, and rushing to my room, I flung myself on my knees, and +prayed with all my heart for the averting of this, to my young mind, +terrible tragedy. I dared not stay long, not knowing what Leo might +do, and on the stairs I met the real culprit, who was in our house. To +this day I remember with amusement the flood of speech with which, in +my excitement, I overwhelmed him. I painted his meanness in the +darkest colours, and the universal contempt of his friends. I made him +a hero if he took his burden on his own back. I dwelt forcibly on +Leo's bitter distress and superior generosity. I bribed him to confess +all with my many-weaponed pocket-knife (the envy of the house). I +darkly hinted a threat of "blabbing" myself, as my meanness in telling +tales would be as nothing to his in allowing Leo to suffer for his +fault. Which argument prevailed I shall never know. I fancy Leo's +distress and the knife did it between them, for he was both +good-natured and greedy. He told the truth by a great effort, and took +his flogging with complete indifference. + +Thenceforward Leo and I were as brothers. He taught me to sketch, we +kept divers pets together, and fused our botanical collections. He +cooked unparalleled dishes for us, and read poetry aloud to me with an +exquisite justness and delicacy of taste that I have never heard +surpassed. + +His praise was nectar to me. When he said, "I tell you what, Regie, +you've an uncommon lot of general information, I can tell you," my +head was quite turned. Whatever he did seemed right to me. When I +first came to school, my hat was duly peppered and pickled by the boys +and replaced by me with one of unexceptionable shape. My shirts then +gave offence to my new master. + +"I suppose," he said, surveying me deliberately, "a good many of your +things are made by Mrs. Baggage?" + +"Nurse Bundle makes my shirts, Damer," said I. + +"It's all the same," said Damer. "I knew it was connected with a +_parcel_ somehow. Well, the _Package_ patterns are very pretty, no +doubt, but I think it's time you were properly rigged out." + +Which was duly done; and when holidays came and the scandalized Mrs. +Bundle asked what I had done "with them bran-new fine linen shirts," +and where "them rubbishing cotton rags" had come from that I brought +in their place, I could only inform her, with a feeble imitation of +Leo's lofty coolness, that I had used the first to clean Damer's +lamp, and that the second were the "correct thing." + +One day I said to him, "I don't know why, Damer, but you always make +me think of a vision of one of the Greek heroes when I see you walking +in the playing-fields." + +I believe my simply-spoken compliment deeply gratified him; but he +only said, like Mr. Clerke, "You _do_ say the oddest things, little +'un!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +COLLECTIONS--LEO'S LETTER--NURSE BUNDLE AND SIR LIONEL + + +If Nurse Bundle hoped that when I went to school an end would be put +to the "collections" which troubled her tidy mind, she was much +deceived. Neither Leo nor I were bookworms, and we were not by any +means so devoted as some boys to games and athletics. But for +collections of all kinds we had a fancy that almost amounted to mania. + +Our natural history manias in their respective directions came upon us +like fevers. We "sickened" at the sight of somebody else's collection, +or because we had been reading about butterflies, or birds' eggs, or +water-plants, as the case might be. When "the complaint" was "at its +height," we lived only for specimens; we gave up leisure, sleep, and +pocket-money to our collection; we made notes and memoranda in our +grammars and lexicons that had no classical reference. We sent letters +to country newspapers which never appeared, and asked questions that +met with no reply. We were apt, also, to recover from these attacks, +leaving Nurse Bundle burdened with boxes or folios of dry, dusty +broken fragments of plants and insects, which we did not touch, but +which she was strictly forbidden to destroy. We pursued our fancies +during the holidays. I have now a letter that I got from Damer after +my fourth half: + +"London. + +"MY DEAR REGIE,-- + + "_Eureka_! What do you think? My poor governor collected + moths. I bullied my guardian till he let me have the + collection. Such specimens! No end of foreign ones we know + nothing about, and I am having a case made. I found a little + book with his notes in. We are quite at sea to go flaring + about with nets and bruising the specimens. The way is to + dig for chrysalises. Mind you do; and how I envy you! For I + have to be in this horrid town, when I long to be grubbing + at the roots of trees. Polly quite agrees with me. She hates + London; and says the happiest time in her life was when she + was at Dacrefield. My only comfort is to go to the old + bookstalls and look for books about moths and butterflies. + Imagine! The other day when your aunt was out, I took Polly + with me. She said she would give anything on earth to go. So + we went. We went into some awful streets, and had some + oysters at a stall, and came back carrying no end of books; + and just as we got in at the door there were your aunt and + Lady Chelmsfield coming out. What a rage your aunt was in! I + tried to take all the blame, but she shut Polly up for a + fortnight. It's a beastly shame, but Polly says the + expedition was worth it; her spirit is splendid. I never + wrote such a long letter in my life before, but I am in the + blues, and have no one to talk to. I wish my poor governor + had lived. I wish I were in the country. I wish your aunt + was a moth. Wouldn't I pin her to a cork! Mind you work up + old Mother Hubbard to a sumptuous provision of grub for next + half, and don't forget the other grubs. Would that I could + dig with thee for them. _Vale_! + +"Thine ever, + +"LIONEL DAMER." + +Of course this ended in Leo's being invited to Dacrefield. He came, +and, wonderful to relate, we got Polly too. My father invited her and +my aunt to visit us, and they came. As Leo said, Aunt Maria "behaved +better than we expected." Indeed, Leo had no reason to complain of her +treatment of him as a rule, for he was constantly at the Ascotts' +house during his holidays. + +And so we rambled and scrambled about together, Leo, and Polly, and I. +And we added largely to our collections, and made a fernery (the +Rector helping us), and rode about the country, and were thoroughly +happy. We generally went to the nursery for a short time before +dressing for dinner, where we teased and coaxed Mrs. Bundle, and ate +large slices of an excellent species of gingerbread called +"parliament," which she kept in a tin case in the cupboard. In return +for these we entertained her with marvellous "tales of school," +rousing her indignation by terrible narratives of tyrannous and cruel +fagging, and taking away her breath by tales of reckless daring, +amusing impudence, or wanton destructiveness common to boys. Some of +these we afterwards confessed to be fables, told--as we politely put +it--to "see how much she _would_ swallow." + +After dinner we were expected to sit with my father and Aunt Maria in +the drawing-room. Then, also, poor Polly was expected to "give us a +little music," and dutifully went through some performances which +were certainly a remarkable example of how much can be acquired in the +way of mechanical musical skill where a real feeling for the art is +absent. After politely offering to turn over the leaves of her music, +which Polly always declined (it was the key-note of her energetic +character that she "liked to do everything herself"), my father +generally fell asleep. I whiled away the time by playing with Rubens +under the table, Aunt Maria "superintended" the music in a way that +must have made any less stolid performer nervous, and Leo was apt to +try and distract Polly's attention by grimaces and pantomime of a far +from respectful nature behind Aunt Maria's back. + +Sir Lionel was not a favourite with Nurse Bundle. I was unfortunate +enough to give her a prejudice against him, which nothing seemed to +wear out. Thinking his real, or affected mistake about her name a good +joke, and having myself the strongest relish and admiration for his +school-boy wit, I had told Nurse Bundle of his various versions of her +name; and had tried to convey to her the comic nature of the scenes +when my hat was pickled, and when Leo condemned my home-made shirts. + +But quite in vain. Nurse Bundle's sense of humour (if she had any) was +not moved by the things that touched mine. She looked upon the +destruction of the hat and the shirts as "a sinful waste," and as to +Leo's jokes-- + +"Called me a baggage, did he?" said the indignant Mrs. Bundle. "I'll +Sir Lionel him when I get the chance. At my time of life, too!" + +And no explanation from me amended matters. By the time that Leo did +come, Nurse Bundle had somewhat recovered from the insult, but he was +never a favourite with her. He "chaffed" her freely, and Mrs. Bundle +liked to be treated with respect. Still there was a fascination about +his beauty and his jokes against which even she was not always proof. +I have seen her laugh and fetch out the parliament box when Leo +followed her about like a dog walking on its hind legs, wagging an old +piece of rope at the end of his jacket for a tail, and singing-- + + "Good Mother Hubbard, + Pray what's in your cupboard? + Could you give a poor dog a bone?" + +And when he got the parliament he would "sit up" and balance a slice +of the gingerbread on his nose, till Polly and I cheered with delight, +and Rubens became frantic at the mockery of his own performances, and +Mrs. Bundle complained that "Sir Lionel never knowed when to let +nonsense be." + +But I think she was something like the housemaid who "did the +bedrooms," and who complained bitterly of the additional trouble given +by Leo and me when we were at Dacrefield, and who was equally pathetic +about the dulness of the Hall when we returned to school. "The young +gentlemen be a deal of trouble, but they do keep a bit of life in the +place, sure enough." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE DEATH OF RUBENS--POLLY'S NEWS--LAST TIMES + + +When one has reached a certain age time seems to go very fast. Then, +also, one begins to understand the meaning of such terms as "the +uncertainty of life," "changes," "loss of friends," "partings," "old +times," etc., which ring sadly in the ears of grown-up folk. + +After my first half at Eton, this universal experience became mine. +There was never a holiday time that I did not find some change; and, +too often, a loss to meet my return. + +One of the first and bitterest was the death of Rubens. + +I had been most anxious to get home, and yet somehow, in less high +spirits than usual, which made it feel not unnatural that my father's +face should be so unusually grave when he came to meet me. + +"I have some very bad news for you, my dear boy," he said. "I fear, +Regie, that poor Rubens is dying." + +"He've been a-dying all day, sir," said the groom, when we stood at +last by Rubens' side. "But he seems as if he couldn't go peaceable +till you was come." + +He seemed to be gone. The beautiful curls were limp and tangled. He +lay on his side with his legs stretched out; his eyes were closed. +But when I stooped over him and cried "Ruby!" his flabby ears pricked, +and he began to struggle. + +"It's a fit," said the groom. + +But it was nothing of the kind. Rubens knew what he was about, and at +last actually got on to his feet, when, after swaying feebly about for +a moment, he staggered in my direction (he could not see) and +literally fell into my arms, with one last wag of his dear tail. + +"They say care killed the cat," said Mrs. Bundle, when I went up to +the nursery, "but if it could cure a dog, my deary, your dog would +have been alive now. I never see the Squire so put about since you had +the fever. He was up at five o'clock this very morning, the groom +says, putting stuff into the corners of its mouth with a silver +teaspoon, and he've had all the cow doctors about to see him, and Dr. +Gilpin himself he've been every day, and Mr. Andrewes the same. And +I'd like to know, my deary, what more could be done for a sick +Christian than the doctor and parson with him daily till he dies?" + +"A Christian would be buried in the churchyard," said I; "and I wish +poor dear Rubens could." + +But as he couldn't, I made his grave where the churchyard wall skirted +the grounds of the Hall. "Perhaps, some day, the churchyard will have +to be enlarged," I explained to the Rector, who was puzzled by my +choice of a burying-place, "and then Rubens will _get taken in_." + +My father was most anxious to get me another pet. I might have had a +dog of any kind. Dogs of priceless breeds, dogs for sporting, for +ratting, and for petting; dogs for use or for ornament. From a +bloodhound and mastiff almost large enough for me to ride, to a toy +poodle that would go into my pocket--I might have chosen a worthy +successor to Rubens, but I could not. + +"I shall never care for any other dog," I was rash enough to declare. +But my resolve melted away one day at the sight of a soft, black ball, +like a lump of soot, which arrived in a game-bag, and proved to be a +retriever pup. He grew into a charming dog, of much wisdom and +amiability. I called him Sweep. + +Thus half by half, holidays by holidays, changes, ceaseless changes +went on. Births, deaths, and marriages furnished my father with "news" +for his letters when I was away, and Nurse Bundle and me with gossip +when I came back. + +I heard also at intervals from Polly. Uncle Ascott's wealth increased +yearly. The girls grew up. Helen "was becoming Tractarian and +peculiar," which annoyed Aunt Maria exceedingly. Mr. Clerke had got a +curacy in London, and preached very earnest sermons, which Aunt Maria +hoped would do Helen good. Mr. Clerke worked very hard, and seemed to +like it; but he said that his happiest days were Dacrefield days. "I +quite agree with him," Polly added. Then came a letter:--"Oh, my dear +Regie, fancy! Miss Blomfield is married. And to whom, do you think? Do +you remember the old gentleman who sent us the cinder-parcel? Well, +it's to him; and he is really a very jolly old man; and thinks there +is no one in the world like Miss Blomfield. He told her he had been +carefully observing her conduct in the affairs of daily life for eight +years. My dear Regie, _fancy_ waiting eight years for one's next door +neighbour, when one was quite old to begin with! You have no idea how +much younger and better she looks in a home of her own, and a handsome +silk dress. Can you fancy her always apologising for being so happy? +She thinks she has too much happiness, and is idle, and who knows +what. It makes me feel quite ill, Regie, for if she is idle, and has +too much happiness, what am I, and what have I had? Do you remember +the days when you proposed that we should be very religious? I am sure +it's the only way to be very happy: I mean happy _always_, and +_underneath_. Leo says the great mistake is being _too_ religious, and +that people ought to keep out of extremes, and not make themselves +ridiculous. But I think he's wrong. For it seems just to be all the +heap of people who are only a little religious who never get any good +out of it. It isn't enough to make them happy whatever happens, and +it's just enough to make them uncomfortable if they play cards on a +Sunday. I know I wish I were really good, like Miss Blomfield, and Mr. +Clerke, and Helen. * * *" + +It was the year of Miss Blomfield's marriage that Ragged Robin's wife +died. We had all quite looked forward to the peace she would enjoy +when she was a widow, for it was known that delirium tremens was +surely shortening her husband's life. But she died before him. Her +children were wonderfully provided for. They were girls, and we had +them all at the Hall by turns in some sort of sub-kitchenmaid +capacity, from which they progressed to higher offices, and all became +first-class servants, and "did well." + +"My dear," said Nurse Bundle, "there ain't no difficulty in finding +homes for gals that have been brought up to clean, and to do as +they're bid. It's folk as can't do a thing if you set it 'em, nor +take care of a thing if you gives it 'em, as there's no providing +for." + +I almost shrink from recording the hardest, bitterest loss that those +changeful years of my school-life brought me--the death of Mr. +Andrewes. It was during my holidays, and yet I was not with him when +he died. + +I do not think I had noticed anything unusual about him beforehand. He +had not been very well for some months, but we thought little of it, +and he never dwelt upon it himself. I was in the fifth form at the +time, and almost grown up. Sweep was a middle-aged dog, the wisest and +handsomest of his race. The Rector always dined with us on Sunday, but +one evening he excused himself, saying he felt too unwell to come out, +and would prefer to stay quietly at home, especially as he had a +journey before him; for he was going the next day to visit his brother +in Yorkshire for a change. But he asked if my father would spare me to +come down and spend the evening with him instead. I rightly considered +Sweep as included in the invitation, and we went together. + +As we went up the drive (so familiar to me and poor little Rubens!) I +thought I had never seen the Rector's garden in richer beauty, or +heard such a chorus from the birds he loved and protected. Indeed the +border plants were luxuriant almost to disorder. It struck me that Mr. +Andrewes had not been gardening for some time. Perhaps this idea led +me to notice how ill he looked when I went indoors. But dinner seemed +to revive him, and then in the warm summer sunset we strolled outside +again. The Rector leant heavily on my arm. He made some joke about my +height, I remember. (I was proud of having grown so tall, and +secretly thought well of my general appearance in the tail-coat of +"fifth form.") With one arm I supported Mr. Andrewes, the other hung +at my side, into the hand of which Sweep ever and anon thrust his nose +caressingly. + +"How well the garden looks!" I said. "And your birds are giving you a +farewell concert." + +"Ah! You think so too?" said the Rector, quickly. + +I was puzzled. "You are going to-morrow, are you not?" I said. + +"Yes, of course. I see," said the Rector laughing. "I was thinking of +a longer journey. How superstitions do cling to north-countrymen! +We've a terrible lot of Paganism in us yet, for all the Christians +that we are!" + +"What was your superstition just now?" said I. + +"Oh, just part of a belief in the occult sympathy of the animal world +with humanity, which, indeed, I am by no means prepared to give up." + +"I should think not!" said I. + +"Though doubtless the idea that they feel and presage impending death +to man must be counted a fable." + +"Awful rot!" was my comment. "I say, sir, I'm sure you're not well, to +get such stuff into your head." + +"It's just that," said the Rector. "When I was a boy, I was far from +strong, and being rather bookish, I was constantly overworking my +head. What weird fancies and fads I had then, to be sure! I was +haunted by a lot of nervous plagues which it's best not to explain to +people who have never been tormented with them. One of the least +annoying was a sensation which now and then took possession of me +that everything I saw, heard, or did, was 'for the last time.' I've +often run back down a lane to get another glimpse of home, and done +over again something I had just finished--to break the charm! The old +childish folly has been plaguing me the last few days. It is strong on +me to-night." + +"Then we'll talk of something else," said I. + +Eventually our conversation became a religious one. It was like the +old days before I went to school. We had not had much religious talk +of late years. To say the truth, since I became an Eton man the +religious fervour of my childhood had died out. A strong belief in the +practical power of prayer (especially "when everything else failed") +was almost all that remained of that resolution to which Polly had +alluded in her letter. In discussions with her, I took Leo's view of +the subject. I warned her in a common-sense way against being +"religious overmuch" (not that I had any definite religious measure in +my mind); I laughed at Helen; I indulged a little cheap wit, and made +Polly furious, by smart sneers about women and parsons. I puzzled her +with scraps of old philosophy, and theological difficulties of +venerable standing, and was as proud to discomfit her faith as if my +own soul had no stake in the matter. I fairly drove her to tears about +the origin of evil. Sometimes I would have "Sunday talks" with her in +a different spirit, but even then she said I "did her no good," for I +would not believe that she could "have anything to repent of." + +I fancy Mr. Andrewes had asked me to come to him that evening greatly +for the purpose of having a "Sunday talk." My father had wished me to +be confirmed at home rather than at school, and as Bishops did not +hold confirmations at such short intervals then as they do now, an +opportunity had only just occurred. Mr. Andrewes was preparing me, and +it was a great annoyance to him that his ill-health obliged him to go +away in the middle of his instructions. I think he was feverish that +night. Every now and then he spoke so rapidly that I could hardly +follow him. Then there were pauses in which he seemed lost, and abrupt +changes of subject, as if he could hardly control the order of his +thoughts. And in all the evident strain and anxiety to say everything +that he wished to say to me appeared that morbid fancy of its being +"the last time." + +After we had talked for some time he said, "Life goes wonderfully +fast, Regie, though you may not think so just now. I do so well +remember being a child myself. I was eight years old, I think, when I +prayed for money enough to buy a _Fuchsia coccinea_ (they had not been +in England more than ten or twelve years then). My brother gave me +half-a-crown, and I got one. It seems as if that one yonder must be +it. I began a model of my father's house in card-board one winter, +too. Then I got bronchitis, and did not finish it. I have been +intending to finish it ever since, but it lies uncompleted in a box +upstairs. So we purpose and neglect, till death comes like a nurse to +take us to bed, and finds our tasks unfinished, and takes away our +toys!" + +Presently he went on: "Our mechanical arbitrary division of time is +indeed a very false one. See how one day drags along, and how quickly +another passes. The true measure of time is that which makes each +man's life a day, his day. The real night is that in which no man can +work. Indeed, nothing can be more true and natural than those Eastern +expressions. I remember things that happened in my childhood as one +remembers what one did this morning. What a lot of things I meant to +do to-day! And one runs out into the garden instead of setting to +work, and it is noon before one knows where he is, and other people +take up one's time, and the afternoon slips away, and a man's day had +need be fifty times its length for him to do all he means and ought to +do, and to run after all the distractions the devil sends him as well. +So comes old age, the evening when one is tired, and it's hard to make +any fresh start; and then we're pretty near the end, at 'the last +feather of the shuttle,' as we say in Yorkshire. I often think that +the pitiful shortness of this life, compared with a man's hopes and +plans, is almost proof enough of itself that there must be another, +better fitted to his aims and capacities. And then--measure the folly +of not securing _that_! And talking of proofs, Regie, and whilst I'm +taking the privilege of this season of your confirmation to proffer a +little advice, above all things make up your mind as to what you +believe, and on what grounds you believe it. Ask yourself, my boy, if +you believe the articles of the Apostles' Creed to be real positive +truths. Do you think there is evidence for the facts, as matters of +history? Are you ever likely to have the time or the talent to test +this for yourself? And, if not, do you consider the authority of those +who have done so, and staked everything upon their truth, as +sufficient? Will you receive it as the Creed of your Church? Make up +your mind, my boy, above all things make up your mind! Have _some_ +convictions, some real opinions, some worthy hopes; and be loyal to, +and in earnest about, whatever you do pin your faith to, I assure you +that vagueness of faith affects people's every-day conduct more than +they think. The sort of belief which takes a man to church on Sunday +who would be ashamed to look as if he were really praying, or +confessing real sins when he gets there, is small help to him when the +will balances between right and wrong. It is truly, as a matter of +mere common sense, a poor bargain, a wretched speculation, to be half +religious; to get a few checks and scruples out of it, and no real +strength and peace; and, it may be, to lose a man's soul, and not even +gain the world. For who dare promise himself that Christ our Judge, +who spent a self-denying human youth as our example, and so loved us +as to die for us, will accept a youth of indifference, and a +dissatisfied death-bed on our part? And if it be all true, and if +gratitude and common sense, and self-preservation, and the example and +advice of great men, demand that we shall serve GOD with all our +powers, don't you think the devil must, so to speak, laugh in his +sleeve to see us really conceited of being too large-minded to attend +too closely, or to begin to attend too early, to our own best +interests?" + +"Ah!" he added after a while, "my dear boy--dearer to me than you can +tell--the truth is, I covet for you the unutterable blessing of a +youth given to GOD. What that is, some know, and many a man converted +late in life has imagined with heart-wrung envy: an Augustine, already +numbered with the Saints, a Prodigal robed and decked with more than +pardon, haunted yet by dark shadows of the past, the husks and the +swine. My boy, with an unstained youth yet before you to mould as you +will, get to yourself the elder son's portion--'Thou art ever with +Me, and all that I have is thine.' And what GOD has for those who +abide with Him, even here, who can describe? It's worth trying for, +lad; it would be worth trying for, on the chance of GOD fulfilling His +promises, if His Word were an open question. How well worth any +effort, any struggle, you'll know when you stand where I stand +to-night." + +We had reached the front steps of the house as he said this. The last +few sentences had been spoken in jerks, and he seemed alarmingly +feeble. I shrank from understanding what he meant by his last words, +though I knew he did not refer to the actual spot on which we stood. +The garden was black now in the gloaming. The reflection from the +yellow light left by the sunset in the west gave an unearthly +brightness to his face, and I fancied something more than common in +the voice with which he quoted: + + "Jesu, spes poenitentibus, + Quam pius es petentibus! + Quam bonus te quaerentibus! + _Sed quid invenientibus_!" + +But I was fanciful that Sunday, or his nervous "fads" were infectious +ones; for on me also the superstition was strong to-night that it was +"the last time." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +I HEAR FROM MR. JONATHAN ANDREWES--YORKSHIRE--ALATHEA _alias_ +BETTY--WE BURY OUR DEAD OUT OF OUR SIGHT--VOICES OF THE NORTH + + +I sat up for a short time with my father on my return. When I went to +bed, to my amazement Sweep was absent, and I could not find him +anywhere. I did not like to return to the Rectory, for fear of +disturbing Mr. Andrewes' rest, so I went to bed without my dog. + +I was up early next morning, for I had resolved to go to the station +to see Mr. Andrewes off, though his train was an early one, that I +might disabuse him of his superstition by our meeting once more. It +was with a secret sense of relief, for my own part, that I saw him +arranging his luggage. Sweep, by-the-by, had turned up to breakfast, +and was with me. + +"I've come to see you off," I shouted, "and to break the charm of +_last times_, and Sweep has come too." + +"Strange to say, Sweep came back to me last night, after you left," +said the Rector, laughing; "and he added omen to superstition by +sitting under the window when I turned him out, and howling like a +Banshee." + +Sweep himself looked rather foolish as he wagged his tail in answer +to the Rector's greeting. He had the air of saying, "We were all a +little excited last night. Let it pass." + +For my own part I felt quite reassured. The Rector was in his sunniest +mood, and as he watched us from the window to the very last, his face +was so bright with smiles, that he hardly looked ill. + +For some days Sweep and I were absent, fishing. + +When I returned, I found on my mantelpiece a black-edged letter in an +unfamiliar hand. But for the black I should have fancied it was a +bill. The writing was what is called "commercial." I opened it and +read as follows: + +"North Side Mills, Blackford, + +Yorks. 4/8, 18--. + +"SIR, + + "I have to announce the lamented Decease of my + Brother--Reverend Reginald Andrewes, M.A.--which took place + on the 3rd inst. (3.35 A.M.), at Oak Mount, Blackford; where + a rough Hospitality will be very much at your Service, + should you purpose to attend the Funeral. Deceased expressed + a wish that you should follow the remains; and should your + respected Father think of accompanying you, the Compliment + will give much pleasure to Survivors. + + "Funeral party to leave Oak Mount at 4 P.M. on Thursday next + (the 8th inst.), D.V. + + "A line to say when you may be expected will enable me to + meet you, and oblige, + +"Yours respectfully, + +"JONATHAN ANDREWES. + +"Reginald Dacre, Esq., Jun." + +It is useless to dwell upon the bitterness of this blow. My father +felt it as much as I did, and neither he nor I ever found this loss +repaired. One loses some few friends in a lifetime whose places are +never filled. + +We went to the funeral. Had the cause of our journey been less sad, I +should certainly have enjoyed it very much. The railway ran through +some beautiful scenery, but it was the long coach journey at the end +which won my admiration for the Rector's native county. I had never +seen anything like these noble hills, these grand slopes of moorland +stretching away on each side of us as we drove through a valley to +which the river running with us gave its name. Not a quiet, sluggish +river, keeping flat pastures green, reflecting straight lines of +pollard willows, and constantly flowing past gay villas and country +cottages, but a pretty, brawling river with a stony bed, now yellow +with iron, and now brown with peat, for long distances running its +solitary race between the hills, but made useful here and there by +ugly mills built upon the banks. Sometimes there was a hamlet as well +as a mill. Tracts of the neighbouring moorland were enclosed and +cultivated, the fields being divided by stone walls, which looked rude +and strange enough to us. The cottages were also built of stone; but +as we drove through a village I could see, through several open doors, +that the rooms were very clean and most comfortably furnished, though +without carpets, the floors, like everything else, being of stone. + +It was dark before we reached Blackford. The latter part of our +journey was through a coal and iron district, and the glare of the +furnace fires among the hills was like nothing I had ever seen. At the +coach office we were met by Mr. Jonathan Andrewes. He was a tall, +well-made man, with badly-fitting clothes, rather tumbled linen, +imperfectly brushed hair and hat, and some want of that fresh +cleanliness and finish of general appearance which went to my idea of +a gentleman's outside. I found him a warm-hearted, cold-mannered man, +with a clear, strong head, and a shrewdness of observation which +recalled the Rector to my mind more than once. The tones of his voice +made me start sometimes, they were so like the voice that I could +never hear again in this life. He spoke always in the broad dialect +into which the Rector was only wont to relapse in moments of +excitement. + +A carriage, better appointed than the owner, and a man-servant rather +less so, were waiting, and took us to Oak Mount. In the hall our host +apologized for the absence of Mrs. Andrewes, who was at the sea-side, +out of health. + +"But Betty 'll do her best to make you comfortable, sir," he said to +my father, and turning to a middle-aged woman with a hard-featured, +sensible face, and very golden hair tightly braided to her head, who +was already busy with our luggage, he added, "You've got something for +us to eat, Betty, I suppose?" + +"T' supper 'll be ready by you're ready for it," said Betty, when she +had finished her orders to the man who was taking our things upstairs. +"But when folks is come off on a journey, they'll be glad to wash +their 'ands, and I've took hot water into both their rooms." + +The maid's familiarity startled me. Moreover, I fancied that for some +reason she was angry, judging by the form and manner of her reply; but +I have since learned that the ordinary answers of Scotch and Yorkshire +folk are apt to sound more like retorts than replies. + +In the end I became very friendly with this good woman. Her real name, +I discovered, was not Betty. "They call me Alathea," she said, meaning +that that was her name, "but I've allus gone by the name of Betty." +From her I learnt all the particulars of my dear friend's last +illness, which I never should have got from the brother. + +"He talked a deal about you," she said. "But you see, you're just +about t' age his son would have been if he'd lived." + +"His son!" I cried: "was Mr. Andrewes married?" + +"Ay," said she, "Master Reginald were married going i' two year. It +were his wife's death made him that queer while he couldn't abide the +business, and he'd allus been a great scholard, so he went for a +parson." + +Every detail that I could get from Alathea was interesting to me. +Apart from the sadly interesting subject, she had admirable powers of +narration. Her language (when it did not become too local for my +comprehension) was forcible and racy to a degree, and she was not +checked by the reserve which clogged Mr. Jonathan's lips. The +following morning she came to the door of the drawing-room (a large +dreary room, which, like the rest of the house, was handsomely +_upholstered_ rather than furnished), and beckoned mysteriously to me +from the door. I went out to her. + +"You'd like to see the body afore they fastens it up?" she said. + +I bent my head and followed her. + +"He makes a beautiful corpse," she whispered, as we passed into the +room. It was an incongruous remark, and stirred again an hysterical +feeling that had been driving me to laugh when I felt most sad amid +all the grotesquely dreary preparations for the "burying." But, like +some other sayings that offend ears polite, it had the merit of truth. + +It was not the beauty of the Rector's face in death, however, noble as +it was, that alone drew from me a cry of admiration when I stooped +over his coffin. From the feet to the breast, utterly hiding the grave +clothes, and tastefully grouped about his last pillow, were the most +beautiful exotic flowers I ever beheld. Flowers lately introduced that +I had never seen, flowers that I knew to be rare, almost +priceless--flowers of gorgeous colours and delicate hothouse beauty, +lay there in profusion. + +"Mr. Jonathan sent for 'em," Betty murmured in my ear. "There's pounds +and pounds' worth lies there. He give orders accordingly. There warn't +to be a flower 'at warn't worth its weight in gowd a'most. Mr. +Reginald were that fond of flowers." + +I made no answer. Bitterly ached my heart to think of that dear and +noble face buried out of sight; the familiar countenance that should +light up no more at the sight of me and Sweep. "He looks so happy," I +muttered, almost jealously. Alathea laid her hand upon my arm. + +"Them that sleeps in Jesus rests well, my dear. And, as I said to +Master Jonathan this morning, it ain't fit to overbegrudge them 'ats +gone Home." + +I think it was the naming of that Name, in which alone we vanquish the +bitter victories of death, that recalled the verse which had been +floating in my head ever since that evening at the Rectory: + + "Jesu, spes poenitentibus, + Quam pius es petentibus! + Quam bonus te quaerentibus! + _Sed quid invenientibus_!" + +The loneliness of my childhood had given me a habit of talking to +myself. I did not know that I had quoted that verse of the old hymn +aloud, till I discovered the fact from hearing afterwards, to my no +small surprise, that Betty had reported that I "made a beautiful +prayer over the corpse." + + * * * * * + +The grim and hideous pomp of the funeral was most oppressive, though +in the abundance of plumes and mutes Mr. Jonathan had, as in the more +graceful tribute of the flowers, honoured his brother nobly after his +manner, which was a commercial one. It was a very expensive "burying." +Alathea did tell me what "the gin and whiskey for the mourners alone +come to," though I have forgotten. But we lost sight of the ignoble +features of the occasion when the sublime office for the Burial of the +Dead began. When it was ended I understood one of Betty's brusque +remarks, which had puzzled me when it came out at breakfast-time. + +"You'll 'ave to take what ye can get for your dinners, gentlemen," she +had said; "for the singers is to meet at three, and I can't pretend to +do more nor I can." + +The women mourners at the funeral (there were a few) all wore large +black silk hoods, which completely disguised them; but at the end of +the service one of them pushed hers back, and I recognized the golden +hair of Alathea, as she joined a group rather formally collected on +one side of the grave. She looked round as if to see that all were +ready, and then in such a soprano voice as one seldom hears, she +"started" the funeral hymn. It was the Old Psalm-- + + "O GOD, our help in ages past, + Our hope for years to come; + + Our shelter from life's stormy blast, + And our eternal home." + +I had heard very little chorus-singing of any kind; and I did not then +know that for the best I had heard--that of St. George's choir at +Windsor--voices were systematically imported from this particular +district. My experience of village singing was confined to the thin +nasal unison psalmody of our school children, and an occasional rustic +stave from a farmer at an agricultural dinner. Great, then, was my +astonishment when the little group broke into the four-part harmony of +a fine chorale. One rarely hears such voices. Betty had a grand +soprano, and on the edge of the group stood a little lad singing like +a bird, in an alto of such sweet pathos as would have made him famous +in any cathedral choir. + +Mr. Jonathan's head drooped lower and lower. Affecting as the hymn was +in my ears, it had for him, no doubt, associations I could not share. +My father moved near him, with an impulse of respectful sympathy. + +To me that one rich voice of harmony spoke as the voice of my old +teacher; and I longed to cry to him in return, "I have made up my +mind. It _is_ worth trying for! It is 'worth any effort, any +struggle.' Our eternal home!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE NEW RECTOR--AUNT MARIA TRIES TO FIND HIM A WIFE--MY FATHER HAS A +SIMILAR CARE FOR ME + + +The stone that marks the burying-place of the Andrewes family taught +me the secret of the special love the Rector bore me. It recorded the +deaths of his wife Margaret, and of his son Reginald. The child was +born in the same year as myself. + +Mr. Jonathan Andrewes came to Dacrefield on business connected with +his brother's affairs, and he accepted my father's hospitality at the +Hall. We seldom met afterwards, and were never intimate; but, slight +as it was, our tie was that of friendship rather than acquaintance. + +The next presentation to the Rectory of Dacrefield was in my father's +gift. He held it alternately with the Bishop, to whom he owed Mr. +Andrewes. He gave it to my old tutor. + +Mr. Clerke's appointment had the rare merit of pleasing everybody. +After he had been settled with us for some weeks, my father said, + +"Mr. Clerke is good enough to be grateful to me for presenting him to +the living, but I do not know how to be grateful enough to him for +accepting it. I really cannot think how I should have endured to see +Andrewes' place filled by some new broom sweeping away every trace of +our dear friend and his ways. Clerke's good taste in the matter is +most delicate, most admirable, and very pleasant to my feelings." + +The truth is there was not a truer mourner for the old Rector than the +new one. "I so little thought I should never see him again," he cried +to me. "I have often felt I did not half avail myself of the privilege +of knowing such a man, when I was here. I have notes of more than a +score of matters, on which I purposed to ask his good counsel, when we +should meet again. And now it will never be." + +"I feel so unworthy to fill his place," he would say. "My only comfort +is in trying to carry out all his plans, and, so far as I can, tread +in his steps." + +In this spirit the new Rector followed the old one, even to becoming +an expert gardener. He bought the old furniture of the Rectory. +Altogether, we were spared those rude evidences of change which are +not the least painful parts of such a loss as ours. + +With the parishioners, I am convinced, that Mr. Clerke was more +popular than Mr. Andrewes had been. They liked him at first for his +reverence for the memory of a pastor they had loved well. I think he +persuaded them, too, that there never could be another Rector equal to +Mr. Andrewes. But in reality I believe he was himself more acceptable. +He was much less able, but also less eccentric and reserved. He was +nearer to the mental calibre of his flock, and not above entering into +parish gossip after a discreet fashion. He was not less zealous than +his predecessor. + +When Aunt Maria came to visit us she gladly renewed acquaintance with +Mr. Clerke, who was a great favourite of hers. I think she imagined +that he was presented to Dacrefield on the strength of her approval. +She used to say to me, "You know Reginald, I always told your father +that Mr. Clerke was a most spiritual preacher." But after seeing him +as Rector of Dacrefield, she added, "He's getting much too 'high.' +Quite like that extraordinary creature you had here before. But it's +always the way with young men." + +Uncle Ascott did not publicly undertake Mr. Clerke's defence, but he +told me: + +"I don't pretend to understand these matters as Maria does, but I can +tell you I never liked any of our London parsons as I like Clerke. +There's something I respect beyond anything in the feeling he has for +your late Rector. And between ourselves, my dear boy, I rather like a +nicely-conducted service." + +So Uncle Ascott and Mr. Clerke were the very best of friends, and my +uncle would go to the Rectory for a quiet smoke, and was always +hospitably received. (Neither my aunt nor my father liked the smell of +tobacco.) Aunt Maria's favour was a little withdrawn. She tried a +delicate remonstrance, but though he was most courteous, it was not to +be mistaken that the Rector of Dacrefield meant to go his own way: +"the way of a better man than I shall ever be," he said. Failing to +change his principles, or guide his practice, my aunt next became +anxious to find him a wife. "Medical men and country parsons ought to +be married," said she, "and it will settle him." + +She selected a young lady of the neighbourhood, the daughter of a +medical man. "Most suitable," said my aunt (by which she meant not +_quite_ up to the standard she would have exacted for a son of her +own), "and with a little money." She patronised this young lady, and +even took her with us one day to lunch at the Rectory; but when she +said something to Mr. Clerke on the subject, she found him utterly +obdurate. "What does he expect, I wonder?" cried my aunt, rather +unfairly, for the Rector had not given utterance to any matrimonial +hopes. She always said, "She never could feel that Mr. Clerke had +behaved well to poor Letitia Ramsay," which used to make downright +Polly very indignant. "He didn't behave badly to her. It was mamma who +always took her everywhere where he was; and how she could stand it, I +don't know! He never flirted with her, Regie." + +The next few years of my life seemed to whirl by. They were very happy +ones. My dear father lived, and our mutual affection only grew +stronger as time went on. + +Then, when I was a man, it gradually dawned upon me, through many +hints, that my father had the same anxiety for me that Aunt Maria had +had for the Rector. He wished me to marry. At one time or another my +fancy had been taken by pretty girls, some of whom were unsuitable in +every respect but prettiness, and some of whom failed to return my +admiration. My dear father would not have dreamed of urging on me a +marriage against my inclinations, but he would have preferred a lady +with some fortune as his daughter-in-law. + +"Our family is an old one, my dear boy," he said, "but the estate is +much smaller than it was in my great-grandfather's time. Don't suppose +that I would have you marry for money alone; but if the lady should be +well portioned, sir, so much the better--so much the better." + +At last he seemed to set his heart upon my having one of Aunt Maria's +daughters. People who live years and years on their own country +estates without going much from home are apt sometimes to fancy that +there is nothing like their own family circle. My father had a great +objection, too, to what he called "modern young ladies." I think he +thought that, as there was no girl left in the world like my poor +mother, I should be safer and happier with one of my cousins. They +were unexceptionably brought up, and would all have considerable +fortunes. + +But though I was very fond of my cousins, I had no wish to choose a +wife from them. They had been more like sisters to me than cousins +from our childhood. At one time, it is true, I was rather sentimental +about Helen. She was the only one of the sisters who was positively +pretty, and her resolute character and unusual tastes roused a +romantic interest in me for a while. When she was twelve years old, +she was found one day by Aunt Maria in the bedroom of a servant who +had fallen ill, and to whom she was attending with the utmost +dexterity. She had a genius for the duties of a sick room, which +developed as she grew up. There were no lady-doctors then, but Helen +was determined to be a hospital nurse. Strongly did Aunt Maria object, +and Helen never defied her wishes in the matter. But she had all Mrs. +Ascott's determination, with more patience. She waited long, but she +followed her vocation at last. + +None of the other girls had any special tastes. The laborious and +expensive education of their childhood did not lead to anything worth +the name of a pursuit, much less a hobby, with any one of them. Of the +happiness of learning, of the exciting interest of an intellectual +hobby, they knew nothing. With much pains and labour they had been +drilled in arts and sciences, in languages and "the usual branches of +an English education." But, apart from social duties and amusements, +the chief occupation of their lives was needlework. I have known many +people who never received proper instruction in music or drawing, who +yet, from what they picked up of either art by their own industry and +intelligence, nearly doubled the happiness of their daily lives. But +in vain had "the first masters" made my cousins glib in chromatic +passages, and dexterous with tricks of effects in colours and crayons. +They played duets after dinner, and Aunt Maria sometimes showed off +the water-colour copies of their school-room days, which, indeed, they +now and then recopied for bazaars; but for their own pleasure they +never touched a note or a pencil. Perhaps real enjoyment only comes +with what one has, to a great extent, taught oneself. Helen had been +her own mistress in the art of nursing, and it was an all-absorbing +interest to her. + +They were very nice girls, and I do not think were entirely to blame +for the small use to which they put their "advantages." They were tall +and lady-like, aquiline-nosed and pleasant-looking, without actual +beauty. It took a wonderful quantity of tarlatan to get them ready for +a ball, a large carriage to hold them, and a small amount of fun to +make them talkative and happy. + +Except Maria, they all inherited my aunt's firmness and decision of +character. Maria, the oldest and largest, was the most yielding. She +had more of Uncle Ascott about her. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +I BELIEVE MYSELF TO BE BROKEN-HEARTED--MARIA IN LOVE--I MAKE AN OFFER +OF MARRIAGE, WHICH IS NEITHER ACCEPTED NOR REFUSED + + +A phase of my life, into which I do not propose to enter, left me +firmly resolved that (as I said in confidence to Clerke) "I shall +marry to please the governor. One doesn't go in for a broken heart, +you know, but it isn't in me to _care_ a second time." + +It was shortly after this that Maria and her mother came to stay at +the Hall. A rather mysterious letter from my aunt had led to the +invitation. It was for the benefit of Maria's health. My father also +invited Polly; she was a favourite with him. Leo and some other +friends were expected for shooting. Our neighbours' houses as well as +ours were filling with visitors, and though I fancied myself a +disappointed man, I found my spirits rising daily. + +My aunt and Maria arrived first: Polly was visiting elsewhere, and was +to join them in a day or two. I was glad to have ladies in the house +again, and after dinner I strolled about the grounds with Maria. She +was looking delicate, but it improved her appearance, and she quite +pleased me by the interest she seemed to take in the place. But I had +seen more of Maria during a visit I paid to London two months before +than usual, and had been quite surprised to find her so well versed +in Dacrefield matters. + +"It's uncommonly pleasant having you here," said I, as we leaned over +a low wall in the garden. "I wonder we do not become perfect +barbarians, cut off as we are from ladies' society. I'm sure I wish +you would settle down here instead of in London. You would civilise +both the Rectory and the Hall." + +I was really thinking of my uncle taking a house in the neighbourhood. +I do not know what Maria was thinking of; but she looked up suddenly +into my face, with a strange expression, as if half inclined to speak. +She said nothing, however, only blushed deeply, and began walking +towards the house. I puzzled for a few minutes over that pathetic look +and blush, but I could make nothing of it, and it passed from my mind +till the next evening after dinner, when, after a little ceremonious +preamble, my father asked if there was "anything between" myself and +my eldest cousin. In explanation of this vague question, he told me +that Maria had been failing in health and spirits for some months; +that my aunt's watchful observation and experience had led her to the +conclusion that Maria was not in a consumption, but in love. As, +however, she kept her own counsel, Mrs. Ascott could only guess in the +matter. From her feverish interest in Dacrefield, her ill-concealed +excitement when the visit was proposed, the improvement in her health +since she came, and a multitude of other small facts which my aunt had +ferreted out and patched together with an ingenuity that amazed me, +Maria was supposed to care for me. + +"We were a good deal together in town, sir," said I, "and Maria was +very jolly with me. But I am sure I gave her no reason to think I was +in love with her, and I don't believe she cares for me. It's one of my +aunt's mare's nests, depend upon it. The poor girl has got a horrid +cough, and, of course, she was pleased to get out of London smoke." + +"If you did care for her," said my father; "and, above all, if you had +led her to think you did, the course is obvious, and I have no doubt +she would make an excellent wife. Polly is my favourite, and Maria is +a year or two older than you. But she is a nice, sensible, well-bred +woman. She is the eldest daughter, and will have--" + +"My dear father," said I, "Maria and I are very friendly as cousins, +but she has not an idea of me in any other than a brotherly relation. +At least I think not," I added, for the look and blush that had +puzzled me came back to my mind. + +"I only mention this because I wished to warn you against trifling +with your cousin's affections if you mean nothing," said my father. + +"I should be sorry to trifle with any lady's affections, sir," was my +reply. We said no more. I sighed, thinking of what I fully believed +had blighted my existence. My father sighed, thinking, I know, of his +own vain wish to see me happily married. At last I could bear it no +longer, and calling Sweep, I went out into the garden. It was +moonlight, and Maria was languidly pacing the terrace. I joined her, +and we strolled away into the shrubbery. + +I cannot say that my father's warning led me to shun Maria's society. +My father and my aunt naturally talked together, and circumstances +almost forced us two into _tête-à-têtes_. I could not fail to see that +Maria liked to be with me, and I found the task of taking care of her +soothing to what I believed to be my blighted feelings. We rode +together (she had an admirable figure and rode well), and the exercise +did her health great good. We often met Mr. Clerke in our rides, and +he seemed to enjoy a canter with us, though he rode very little better +than when I first knew him. We took long walks with Sweep, and from +the oldest tenant to the latest puppy, everything about Dacrefield +seemed to interest my fair cousin. I came at last to believe that Aunt +Maria was right. + +When I did come to believe it (and I do not think that any +contemptible conceit made me hasty to do so), other thoughts followed. +I was as firmly convinced as any other young man with my experiences +that I could never again feel what I had felt for the person who shall +be nameless. But the first bitterness of that agony being undoubtedly +over, I felt that I might find a sober satisfaction in making my +father's declining years happy by giving him a daughter-in-law, and +that I was perhaps hardly justified in allowing Maria to fall into a +consumption when I could prevent it. "There are some people," thought +I, "with whom one could spend life very happily in a quiet fashion; +people who would not offend one's taste, or greatly provoke one's +temper, and whom one feels that one could please in like manner. +_Suitable_ people, in fact. And when a fellow has had his great +heart-ache and it's all over, no doubt suitableness is the thing to +make married life happy.... Maria is suitable." + +I remember well the day I came to this conclusion. Our visitors had +not yet arrived, but Polly was expected the next day, and Leo and some +others shortly. "I may as well get it over before the house is full," +I thought. But, to my vexation, I discovered that my father had asked +Mr. Clerke to come up after dinner. "It's his own fault if I don't get +another chance of speaking," thought I. But, as I strolled sullenly on +the terrace (without Maria) a note arrived from the Rector to say that +he was called away to see a sick man. I dashed into the drawing-room, +gave the letter to my father, and seeing Maria was not there, I went +on into the conservatory. + +There are moments when even plain people look handsome. Notably when +self-consciousness is quite absent, and some absorbing thought gives +sentiment to the face, and grace and power to the figure. It was so at +this moment with Maria, who stood gazing before her, the light from +above falling artistically on her glossy hair and tall, elegant +figure. At the sound of my footsteps she started, and the colour +flooded her face as I came up to her. She sank on to a seat close by, +as if too much agitated to stand. + +"I have something I want to say to you," said I, stooping over her, +and speaking in my gentlest voice. "May I say it?" + +She moved her lips as if trying to speak, but there was no sound, and +she just nodded her head, which then drooped so that I could hardly +see her face. + +"We have known each other since we were children," I began. + +"Yes, Regie dear," murmured Maria. + +"We were always very good friends, I think," continued I. + +"Oh, yes, Regie dear." + +"Childhood was a very happy time," said I, sentimentally. + +"Oh, yes, Regie dear." + +"But we can't be children for ever," I continued. + +"Oh, no, Regie dear." + +"Please take what I am going to say kindly, cousin, whatever you may +think of it." + +"Oh, yes, Regie dear." + +"I hope I may truthfully say that your happiness is, as it ought to +be, my chief aim in the matter." + +Maria's response was inaudible. + +"It's no good beating about the bush," said I, desperately clothing my +sentiments in slang, after the manner of my age; "the fellow who gets +you for a wife, Maria, must be uncommonly fortunate, and I hope that +with a good husband, who made your wishes his first consideration, you +would not be unhappy in married life yourself." + +Lower and lower went her head, but still she was silent. + +"You say nothing," I went on. "Probably I am altogether wrong, and you +are too kind-hearted to tell me I am an impertinent puppy. It is +Dacrefield--the place only--that you honour with your regard. You have +no affection for--" + +Maria did not let me finish this sentence. She put up her hands to +stop me, and seemed as if she wished to speak; but after one pitiful +glance she buried her face in her hands and wept bitterly. I am sure I +have read somewhere that when a woman weeps she is won. So Maria was +mine. I had a grim feeling about it which I cannot describe. "I hope +the governor will be satisfied now," was my thought. + +However, there is nothing I hate more than to see a woman cry. To be +the means of making her cry is intolerable. + +"Please, please, don't! Oh, Maria, what a brute you make me feel. +_Please_ don't," I cried, and raising my cousin from her Niobe-like +attitude, I comforted her as well as I could. She only said, "Oh, +Regie dear, how kind you are," and laid her sleek head against my arm +with an air of rest and trustfulness that touched my generosity to the +quick. What right had I, after all, to accept an affection to which I +could make no similar return? "However," thought I, "it's done now; +and they say it's always more on one side than the other; and at least +I'm a gentleman. I care for no one else, and she shall never know it +was chiefly to please the governor. I suppose it will all come right." + +Whilst I pondered, Maria had dried her eyes, and now sat up, gazing +before her, almost in her old attitude. + +"I wonder, Regie dear," she said, presently--"I wonder how you found +out that I--that we--that I _cared_--" + +"Oh, I don't know," said I, inanely, for I could not say that nothing +could be plainer. + +"I always used to think that to live in this neighbourhood would be +paradise," murmured Maria, looking sentimentally but vacantly into a +box of seedling balsams. + +"I'm very glad you like it," said I. I could not make pretty speeches. +An unpleasant conviction was stealing over my mind that I had been a +fool, and had no one but myself to blame. I began to think that Maria +would not have died of consumption even if I had not proposed to her, +and to doubt if I were really so heartbroken as I had fancied. (Indeed +the society of my cousin, who was a lady, had by this time gone far to +cure me of my sentiment for one who was not, and who had been +sensible enough to marry a man in her own rank of life, to my father's +great relief, and, as I then thought, to my life-long disappointment.) +The whole affair seemed a mockery, and I wished it were a dream. It +was not thus that my father had plighted his troth to my fair mother. +This was not the sort of affection that had made happy the short lives +of Leo's parents. The lemon-scented verbena which I was pounding +between my fingers bitterly recalled a little sketch of the monument +to their memory which Leo had shown me in his Bible, where he had also +pressed a sprig of verbena. Beneath the sketch he had written, "They +were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in death they were not +divided." I remembered his telling me how young they were when they +were married. How his father had never cared for any one else, and how +he would like to do just the same, and marry the one lady of his love. +I began, too, to think Clerke was right when he replied to my +confidences, "I'm only afraid, Regie, that you don't know what love +is." + +It was whilst these thoughts were crowding all too vividly into my +mind that Maria said, impressively, and with unmistakable clearness, + +"After _all_, you know, Regie, he's a _thorough_ gentleman, if he _is_ +poor. I must say _that_! And if he _has_ a profession instead of being +a landed proprietor, it's the _highest_ and _noblest_ profession there +is." + +It seemed to take away my breath. But I was standing almost behind +Maria; she was preoccupied, and I had some presence of mind. I had +opportunity to realize the fact that I was not the object of Maria's +attachment, as I had supposed. I was not poor, I had no profession, +and my common avocations did not, I fear, deserve to be called high +or noble. The description in no way fitted me. Further still, it was +evident that my cousin had not dreamed that I was making her an offer. +She believed that I had discovered her attachment to some other man, +and was grateful for my sympathy. I did not undeceive her. After a +rapid review of the position, I said, + +"But my dear Maria, though I have penetrated to the fact that you have +a secret, and though I want beyond anything to help and comfort you, I +do not yet know who the happy man is, remember." + +"Don't you?" said Maria, looking up hastily, and the colour rushed to +her face as before. "Oh, I thought you knew it was Mr. Clerke. You +know, he _is_ so good, and I've known him so long." + +At this moment Aunt Maria's voice called from the drawing-room end of +the conservatory. + +"Will you give us a little music, Maria? Mr. Clerke has come after +all, and Bowles has brought in the tea." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE FUTURE LADY DAMER--POLLY HAS A SECRET--UNDER THE MULBERRY-TREE + + +Polly came into the house, as she always did, like a sunbeam. Mrs. +Bundle, who was getting old, and apt to be depressed in spirits from +time to time, always revived when "Miss Mary" paid us a visit. A +general look of welcome greeted her appearance in church on Sunday. My +father made no secret of his pleasure in her society. I think she was +in the secret of her sister's engagement, and Maria looked comforted +by her coming. + +Our meals were now quite merry. We had plenty of family gossip, and +news of the neighbourhood to chat over. + +"So Lady Damer that is to be is coming to the Towers," Maria announced +at breakfast, on the authority of a letter she was reading. "Leo is +coming here to shoot, isn't he, Regie?" + +"We expect him every day," said I; "but I never knew he was engaged. +Who is it?" + +"Well, it's not an announced engagement," said Maria, "but everybody +says it is to be. She is an heiress, and her father was an old friend +of his guardian's. And, by-the-bye, Regie, her sister is coming too, +and will do beautifully for you. She is co-heiress, you know. They're +really very rich, and your one is lovely." + +"I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you," said I, "and we are to dine +at the Towers next week, so I shall see the heiresses. But suppose I +take a fancy to the wrong one?" + +"You can't have her," said Maria, laughing. + +"I tell you she is for Leo, and she is very clever and strong-minded, +which is just what he wants--a wife who can take care of him." + +"Oh, deliver me from a strong-minded lady!" I cried. "Damer is quite +welcome to her." + +"Your one isn't a bit strong-minded," said Maria. "She is very pretty, +but has no will of her own at all. She leans completely on Frances; I +don't know what she'll do when she marries, for they have been orphans +since they were quite children, and have never lived apart for a +week." + +At this point Polly broke in with even more warmth and directness of +speech than usual, + +"Frances Chislett is the most superior girl I ever knew. Men always +laugh at strong-minded women; but I'm sure I don't know why. I can't +think how any human being with duties and responsibilities can be +either more useful or more agreeable for being weak-minded." + +And this was all that Polly contributed to our nonsensical +conversation about the heiresses. + +After she came I forsook the society of Maria. I knew now that she +only wanted to talk to me about the Rector and the parish. Besides, +though Maria was strongly interested in Dacrefield for Clerke's sake, +she knew much less of it than Polly, with whom I revisited numberless +haunts of our childhood, the barns and stables, the fernery, the +"Pulpit" and the "Pew." + +I did not tell her of my romance with Maria. I was not proud of it. +But as we sat together in the old apple-room above the stables, I +confided to her my "unfortunate attachment," which I had now +sufficiently recovered from not to be offended by her opinion, that it +was all for the best that it had ended as it had. + +I do not remember exactly how it was that I came to know that +Polly--even Polly--had her own private heart-ache. I think I took an +unfair advantage of her strict truthfulness, when I once suspected +that she had a secret, and insisted upon her confiding in me as I had +done in her. Nurse Bundle gave me the first hint. Mrs. Bundle, +however, believed that "Miss Mary" was only waiting for me to ask her +to be mistress of Dacrefield Hall. And though she had "never seen the +young lady that was good enough for her boy," she graciously allowed +that I might "do worse than marry Miss Mary." + +"My time's pretty near come, my dear," said Mrs. Bundle, "but many's +the time I pray the Lord to let me live to put in if it is but a pin, +when your lady dresses for her wedding." + +But I was not to be fooled a second time by the affectionate belief my +friends had in my attractions. + +"My dear old Nursey," said I, squatting down with Sweep by her easy +chair, "I know what a dear girl Polly is, and if she wanted to be Mrs. +Dacre she soon should be. But you're quite mistaken there; she is my +dear sister, and always will be so, and never anything else." + +"Well, well," said Nurse Bundle, "young folks know their own affairs +better than the old ones, and the Lord above knows what's good for us +all, but I'm a great age, and the Squire's not young, and taking the +liberty to name us together, my deary, in all reason it would be a +blessing to him and me to see you happy with a lady as fit to take +your dear mother's place as Miss Mary is. For let alone everything +else, my dear, servants is not what they used to be, and when I'm dead +you'll be cheated out of house and home, without any one as knows what +goes to the keeping of a family, and what don't." + +"Well, Nursey," said I, "I'll try and find a lady to please you and +the governor. But it won't be Polly, I know, and I wish it may be any +one as good." + +I bullied poor Polly sadly about having a secret, and not confiding it +to me. She was far from expert at dissembling, and never told an +untruth, so I soon drove her into a corner. + +"I'm rather disappointed, I must confess, in one way," said I, having +found her unable flatly to deny that she did "care for" somebody. "I +always hoped, somehow, that you and Leo would make it up together." + +"You heard what Maria said," said Polly, shortly. + +"Oh, I don't believe in the heiress," said I, "unless you've refused +him. He'd never take up with the blue-stocking lady and her money-bags +if his old love would have had him." + +"I wish you wouldn't call her names," said Polly, angrily. "I tell you +she's the best girl I ever knew. I don't care much for most girls; +they are so silly. I suppose you'll say that's envy, but I can't help +it, it's true. But Frances Chislett never bores me. She only makes me +ashamed of myself, and long to be like her. When she's with me I feel +rough, and ignorant, and useless, and--" + +"What a soothing companion!" I broke in. + +"Poor Damer! So you want him to marry her, as one takes nasty +medicine--all for his good." + +"Want him to marry her!" repeated Polly, expressively. "No. But I am +satisfied that he should marry _her_. So long as he is really happy, +and his wife is worthy of him--and _she_ is worthy of him--" + +A light dawned upon me, and I interrupted her. + +"Why, Polly, it _is_ Leo that you care for!" + +We were sitting under an old mulberry-tree near the gate, in the +kitchen garden, but when I said this Polly jumped up and tried to run +away. I caught her hand to detain her, and we were standing very much +in the attitude of the couple in a certain sentimental print entitled +"The Last Appeal," when the gate close by us opened, and my father put +his head into the garden, shouting "James! James!" I dropped Polly's +hand, and struck by the same idea, we both blushed ludicrously; for +the girls knew as well as I did the plans made on our behalf by our +respective parents. + +"The men are at dinner, sir," said I, going towards my father. "Can I +do anything?" + +"Not at all--not at all; don't let me disturb you," said the old +gentleman, with an unmistakably pleased expression of countenance. And +turning to blushing Polly, he added in his most gracious tones, + +"You look charming, my dear, standing under that old mulberry-tree, in +your pretty dress. It was planted by my grandfather, your +great-grandfather, my love, and Regie's also. I wish I could have you +painted so. Quite a picture--quite a picture!" + +Saying which, and waving off my attempts to follow him, he bowed +himself out and shut the door behind him. When he had gone, Polly and +I looked at each other, and then burst out laughing. + +"The plot certainly thickens," said I, sitting down again. "I beg you +to listen to the gratified parent whistling as he retires. What shall +we do, Polly, how could you blush so?" + +"How could I help it when I saw you get so red?" said Polly. + +"We certainly are a wonderful family at this point," said I; "the +whole lot of us in a mess with our love affairs, and my aunt and the +governor off on completely wrong scents." + +"Oh, I think everybody's the same," said Polly, picking off half-ripe +mulberries and flinging them hither and thither; "but that doesn't +make one any better pleased with oneself for being a fool." + +"You're not a fool," said I, pulling her down to the seat again; "but +I wish you wouldn't be cross when you're unhappy. Look at me. +Disappointment has made me sympathetic instead of embittering me. But, +seriously, Polly, I'm sure you and Leo will come all right, and in the +general rejoicing your mother must let Clerke and poor Maria be happy. +Even I might have found consolation with the beautiful heiress if I +had been left to find out her merits for myself; but one gets rather +tired of having young ladies suggested to one by attentive friends. +The fact is, matrimony is not in my line. I feel awfully old. The +governor is years younger than I am. Whoever saw _me_ trouble _my_ +long legs and back to perform such a bow as he gave you just now? I +wish he'd leave me in peace with Sweep. Since the day I came of age, +when every old farmer in the place wound up his speech with something +about the future Mrs. Reginald Dacre, I've had no quiet of my life for +her. Clerke too! I really did think Clerke was a confirmed old +bachelor, on ecclesiastical grounds. I wish I'd gone fishing to +Norway. I wish a bit of the house would fall down. If the governor +were busy with real brick and mortar, he wouldn't build so many +castles in the air, perhaps." + +As I growled, Sweep, beneath my feet, growled also. I believe it was +sympathy, but lest it should be the approach of Aunt Maria (whom Sweep +detested), Polly and I thought well to withdraw from the garden by +another gate. We returned to the house, and I took her to my den to +find a book to divert her thoughts. I was not surprised that a long +search ended in her choosing a finely-bound copy of Young's "Night +Thoughts." + +"I often feel ashamed of knowing so little of our standard poets," she +remarked parenthetically. + +"Quite so," said I; "but I feel it right to mention that the marks in +it are only mine." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +I MEET THE HEIRESS--I FIND MYSELF MISTAKEN ON MANY POINTS--A NEW KNOT +IN THE FAMILY COMPLICATIONS + + +Leo came to the Hall. "His" heiress came to the Towers, but not +"mine." She was to follow shortly. + +I could not make out how matters stood between Leo and Polly. When +Damer came, Polly was three times as _brusque_ with him as with any of +us; he himself seemed dreamy, and just as usual. + +We went to dine at the Towers. We were rather late. Leo, in right of +his rank, took a dowager of position in to dinner. Our host led me +across the room, and introduced me to "Miss Chislett." + +[Illustration: It was only a quiet dinner party, and Miss Chislett had +brought out her needlework.] + +She was not the sort of person I expected. It just flashed across me +that I understood something of Polly's remark about Frances Chislett +making her feel "rough." My cousins were ladies in every sense of the +term, but Miss Chislett had a certain perfection of courteous grace +and dignified refinement, in every word, and gesture, and attitude, as +utterly natural to her as the vigorous tread of any barefooted peasant +girl, and which one does meet with (but by no means invariably) among +women of the highest class in England. Her dignity fell short of +haughtiness (which is not high breeding, and is very easy of +assumption); her grace and courtesy were the simple results of +constant and skilful consideration for other people, and of a +self-respect sufficient to dispense with self-consciousness. The +advantage of wealth was evident in the exquisite taste and general +effect of her costume. She was not beautiful, and yet I felt disposed +for an angry argument with my cousins on the subject of her looks. Her +head was nobly shaped, her figure was tall and beautiful, her grey +eyes haunted one. I never took any lady to dinner who gave me so +little trouble. When we had been together for two minutes, I felt as +if I had known her for years. + +"Well, what do you think of her?" said Polly, when we met in the +drawing-room. Polly had been taken in by Mr. Clerke, and they had +neither of them paid much attention to what the other was saying. +Maria had said "yes" and "no" alternately to the observations of the +elderly and Honourable Mr. Edward Glynn; but as he was deaf this +mattered the less. + +"Was I right?" said Polly. + +"No," said I; "she's not a bit strong-minded." Polly laughed. + +"I'll say one thing for her," said I; "I don't mind how often I take +her in to dinner. She doesn't expect you to make conversation." + +"Why, my dear Regie," said Polly, "you've been talking the whole of +dinner-time!" + +Leo had seated himself by the heiress. Poor Polly's eyes kept +wandering towards them, and (I suppose, because I had heard so much +about her) so did mine. It was only a quiet dinner-party, and Miss +Chislett had brought out her needlework, some gossamer lace affair, +and Leo leant over the sofa where she sat, playing with the contents +of her workbox. Polly's eyes and mine were not the only ones turned +towards them. Ours was not the only interest in the future Lady Damer. + +Aunt Maria carried Polly off to the piano to "give us a little music," +and I sat down and stultified myself with an album at the table, and +Frances Chislett chatted with Sir Lionel. They were close by me, and +every word they said was audible. It was the veriest chit-chat, and +Leo's remarks on the little bunch of charms and knicknacks that he +found in the workbox seemed trivial to foolishness. "I'd no idea Damer +was so empty-headed," I thought, and I rather despised Miss Chislett +for smiling at his feeble conversation. + +"I often wonder what's the use of farthings," I heard him say as he +turned one over in the bunch of knicknacks. "They won't buy anything +(unless it's a box of matches). They only help tradesmen to cheat when +they're 'selling off.'" + +"I beg your pardon," said Miss Chislett, "I have bought most charming +things for a farthing each." + +"So have I," said I, turning round on my chair, and joining in the +conversation, which seemed less purposeless after I began to take part +in it. Leo looked at us both with a puzzled air. + +"Frying-pans, for instance," said Miss Chislett. + +"--and gridirons," said I. + +"Plates, knives, and forks," said the heiress. + +"--and flat irons," I concluded; playing involuntarily with the blob +of lead which still hung at my watch-chain. + +Polly had finished her performance, and was now standing near us. She +understood the allusion, and laughed. + +"Do _you_ know what they're talking about?" asked Sir Lionel, going +up to her. I sat down by the heiress. + +"Were you ever at Oakford?" she asked, turning her grey eyes on me. +She spoke almost abruptly, and with a touch of imperiousness that +suddenly recalled to me where I had seen those eyes before. + +"Certainly," said I, "and at the tinsmith's." + +"What were you doing there?" she asked, and after all these years +there was no mistaking the accent and gesture of the little lady of +the grey beaver. Before she had well begun her apology for the +question, I had answered it, + + "BUYING A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING." + + * * * * * + +"Well, you've gone it hard to-night, old fellow," said Damer, as we +drove away from the Towers. "You and Miss Chislett will be county talk +for six months to come." + +"Nonsense," said I, "we knew each other years ago, and had a good deal +to talk about." + +But to Polly, as we parted for the night in the corridor, I said, "My +dear child, to add to all the family complications, I'm head over ears +in love with the future Lady Damer." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +MY LADY FRANCES--THE FUTURE LADY DAMER--WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER AT +LAST + + +It was true. My theories and my disappointment went to the winds. We +had few common acquaintances or social interests to talk about, and +yet the time we spent together never seemed long enough for our fluent +conversation. We had always a thousand things to say when we met, and +feeling as if we had been together all our lives, I felt also utterly +restless and wretched when I was not with her. Of course, I learnt her +history. She and her sister were the little ladies I had seen in my +childhood. The St. John family were their cousins, and as the boy, of +whom mention has been made, did die in Madeira, the property +eventually came to Frances Chislett and her sister. The estate was +sold, and they were co-heiresses. Adeline, the other sister, soon came +to the Towers. She was more like her old self than Frances. The +exquisitely, strangely fair hair, the pale-blue eyes, the gentle +helpless look, all were the same. She was very lovely, but Frances was +like no other woman I had ever seen before, or have ever met with +since. I resolved to ask Lionel Damer how matters really stood between +them, and, if he were not engaged to her, to try my luck. One day when +she was with us at the Hall I decided upon this. I was told that +Lionel was in the library, and went to seek him. As I opened the door +I saw him standing in front of Polly, who was standing also. He was +speaking with an energy rare with him, and in a tone of voice quite +strange to me. + +"It's not like you to say what's not true," he was saying. "You are +_not_ well, you are _not_ happy. You may deceive every one else, +Polly, but you can never deceive me. All these years, ever since I +first knew you--" + +I stole out, shut the door, and went to seek Frances. I found her by +Rubens' grave, and there we plighted our troth. + + * * * * * + +It was in the evening of the same day that Polly and I met in the +hall, on our way to attempt the difficult task of dressing for dinner +in five minutes. The grey-eyed lady of my love had just left me for +the same purpose, and I was singing, I don't know what, at the top of +my voice in pure blitheness of heart. Polly and I fairly rushed into +each other's arms. + +"My dear child!" said I, swinging her madly round, "I am delirious +with delight, and so is Sweep, for she kissed his nose." + +Poor Polly buried her head on my shoulder, saying, + +"And, oh, Regie! I _am_ so happy!" + +It was thus that my father and Aunt Maria found us. Fate, spiteful at +our happiness, had sent my father, stiff with an irreproachable +neckcloth, and Aunt Maria, rustling in amber silk and black laces, +towards the drawing-room, five minutes too early for dinner, but just +in time to catch us in the most sentimental of attitudes, and to hear +dear, candid, simple-hearted Polly's outspoken confession--"I _am_ so +happy!" + +"And how long are you going to keep your happiness to yourselves, +young people?" said my father, whose face beamed with a satisfaction +more sedately reflected in Aunt Maria's countenance. "Do you grudge +the old folks a share? Eh, sir? eh?" + +And the old gentleman pinched my shoulder, and clapped me on the back. +He was positively playful. + +"Stop, my dear father," said I, "you're mistaken." + +"Eh, what?" said my father, and Aunt Maria drew her laces round her +and prepared for war. + +"Polly and I are not engaged, sir, if that's what you think," said I, +desperately. + +My father and Aunt Maria both opened their mouths at once. + +"Dinner's on the table, sir," the butler announced. My father lacked a +subject for his vexation, and turned upon old Bowles: + +"Take the dinner to ----" + +"--the kitchen," said I, "and keep it warm for ten minutes; we are not +ready. Now, my dear father, come to my room, for I have something to +tell you." + +There was no need for Polly to ask Aunt Maria to go with her. That +lady drove her daughter before her to her bedroom, with a severity of +aspect which puzzled and alarmed poor Leo, whom they passed in the +corridor. A blind man could have told by the rustle of her dress that +Mrs. Ascott would have a full explanation before she broke bread again +at our table. + +I fancy she was not severe upon the future Lady Damer, when Polly's +tale was told. + +As to my father, he was certainly vexed and put out at first. But day +by day my lady-love won more and more of his heart. One evening, a +week later, he disappeared mysteriously after dinner, and then +returned to the dining-room, carrying some old morocco cases. + +"My dear boy," he said, in an almost faltering voice, "I never dared +to hope my dear wife's diamonds would be so worthily worn by yours. +Your choice has made an old man very happy, sir. For a thoroughly +high-bred tone, for intelligence, indeed, I may say, brilliancy of +mind, and for every womanly grace and virtue, I have seen no one to +approach her since your mother's death. I should have loved little +Polly very much, but your choice has been a higher one--more +refined--more refined. For, strictly between ourselves, my dear boy, +our dear little Polly has, now and then, just a thought too much of +your Aunt Maria about her." + +The Rector and Maria were made happy. My father "carried it through," +by my desire. Uncle Ascott was delighted, and became a benefactor to +the parish; but it took Aunt Maria some years to forget that the +patronised curate had scorned the wife she had provided for him, only +to marry her own daughter. + +When I bade farewell to Adeline on our wedding day, she gave me her +cheek to kiss with a pretty grace, saying, + +"You see, Regie, I _am_ your sister after all!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +WE COME HOME--MRS. BUNDLE QUITS SERVICE + + +The day my wife and I returned from our wedding trip to Dacrefield was +a very happy one. We had a triumphal welcome from the tenants, my dear +father was beaming, the Rector no less so, and good old Nurse Bundle +showered blessings on the head of my bride. + +Frances was a great favourite with her. She was devoted to the old +woman, and her delicate tact made her adapt herself to all Mrs. +Bundle's peculiarities. She sat with her in the nursery that night +till nearly dinner-time. + +"I must take her away, Nursey," said I, coming in; "she'll be late for +dinner." + +"Go with your husband, my dear," said Nurse Bundle, "and the Lord +bless you both." + +"I'll come back, Nursey," said Frances; "you'll soon see me again." + +"Turn your face, my dear," said Nurse Bundle. "Hold up the candle, +Master Reginald. Ay, ay, that'll do, my deary. I'll see you again." + +We were still at dessert with my father, when Bowles came hastily into +the room with a pale face, and went up to my wife. + +"Did you send for Mrs. Bundle, ma'am, since you came down to dinner?" +he asked. + +"Oh, dear no," said my wife. + +"Cook was going upstairs, and met Missis Bundle a little way out of +her room," Bowles explained; "and Missis Bundle she says, 'Don't stop +me,' says she, 'Mrs. Dacre wants me,' she says, and on she goes; and +cook waits and waits in her room for her, and at last she comes down +to me, and she says--" + +"But where _is_ Mrs. Bundle?" cried my father. + +"That's circumstantially what nobody knows, sir," said Bowles with a +distracted air. + +We all three rushed upstairs. Mrs. Bundle was not to be found. My +father was frantic; my wife with tears lamented that some chance word +of hers might have led the half-childish old lady to fancy that she +wanted her. + +But a sudden conviction had seized upon me. + +"You need not trouble yourself, my darling," said I; "you are not the +Mrs. Dacre Nurse Bundle went to seek." + +I ran to my father's dressing-room. It was as I thought. + +Below my mother's portrait, on the spot where years before she had +held me in her arms with tears, I, weeping also, held her now in +mine--quite dead. + +THE END + + * * * * * + + + + +The Queen's Treasures Series + +_Small Crown 8vo. With 8 Coloured Plates and Decorated Title-Page, +Covers, and End-Papers_. + +_2s. 6d. net each_. + + +COUSIN PHILLIS. + +By MRS. GASKELL. Illustrated by MISS M. V. WHEELHOUSE. With an +introduction by THOMAS SECCOMBE. + + +SIX TO SIXTEEN. + +By MRS. EWING. Illustrated by MISS M. V. WHEELHOUSE. + + +A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING. + +By MRS. EWING. Illustrated by MISS M. V. WHEELHOUSE. [_Nov_. 1908. + + +JAN OF THE WINDMILL. + +By MRS. EWING. Illustrated by MISS M. V. WHEELHOUSE. [_Jan_. 1909. + + +_Others to follow_. + + +LONDON: GEORGE BELL & SONS + + * * * * * + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Flat Iron for a Farthing, by +Juliana Horatia Ewing + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING *** + +***** This file should be named 19859-8.txt or 19859-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/8/5/19859/ + +Produced by Kathryn Lybarger, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Flat Iron for a Farthing + or Some Passages in the Life of an only Son + +Author: Juliana Horatia Ewing + +Illustrator: M. V. Wheelhouse + +Release Date: November 18, 2006 [EBook #19859] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING *** + + + + +Produced by Kathryn Lybarger, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="center"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" width="500" height="700" /></div> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"><img src="images/image_003.jpg" alt="Inside_Cover" title="Inside_Cover" width="650" height="493" /></div> + +<p> </p> + + + + + + + +<p class="center"><a name="pic_1" id="pic_1"></a> + +<img src="images/image_001.jpg" alt="Mrs. Bundle" width="500" height="811" /><br /> +<span class="caption">Mrs. Bundle (see <a href="#Page_3">p. 3</a>).</span></p> +<p> </p> + +<div class="center"><img class="img1" src="images/image_002.jpg" alt="Front_page" width="500" height="765" /></div> +<p> </p> + +<h3>Queen's Treasures Series</h3> + + + + +<h1><span class="smcap">A Flat Iron For A<br /> +Farthing</span></h1> + +<h3>or</h3> + +<h3>Some Passages in the Life of<br /> +an only Son</h3> +<p> </p> +<h3>by</h3> +<h2>Juliana Horatia Ewing</h2> +<p> </p> +<h3>Illustrated by</h3> +<h2>M. V. Wheelhouse</h2> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_004.jpg" alt="Illustration" width="400" height="292" /></p> + + +<h3>George Bell & Sons</h3> +<h3>London</h3> +<h3>1908.</h3> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h2><i>Dedicated</i></h2> + +<h3>TO MY DEAR FATHER,</h3> +<h3>AND TO HIS SISTER, MY DEAR AUNT MARY,</h3> +<h3>IN MEMORY OF</h3> +<h3>THEIR GOOD FRIEND AND NURSE,</h3> + +<h2>E. B.</h2> + +<h3>OBIT 3 MARCH, 1872, ÆT. 83.</h3> + +<p class="sig1"><b>J. H. E.</b></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + + +<p>An apology is a sorry Preface to any book, however insignificant, and +yet I am anxious to apologise for the title of this little tale. The +story grew after the title had been (hastily) given, and so many other +incidents gathered round the incident of the purchase of the flat iron +as to make it no longer important enough to appear upon the title +page. It would, however, be dishonest to change the name of a tale +which is reprinted from a Magazine; and I can only apologise for an +appearance of affectation in it which was not intended.</p> + +<p>As the Dedication may seem to suggest that the character of Mrs. +Bundle is a portrait, I may be allowed to say that, except in +faithfulness, and tenderness, and high principle, she bears no +likeness to my father's dear old nurse.</p> + +<p>It may interest some of my child readers to know that the steep street +and the farthing wares are real remembrances out of my own childhood. +Though whether in these days of "advanced prices," the flat irons, the +gridirons with the three fish upon them,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span> and all those other valuable +accessories to doll's housekeeping, which I once delighted to +purchase, can still be obtained for a farthing each, I have lived too +long out of the world of toys to be able to tell.</p> + +<p class="sig">J. H. E.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + +<table summary="Contents"> +<tr><td class="tocch f1">CHAP.</td> + <td></td> + <td></td><td class="tocpg f1">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">I.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Motherless</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">II.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>"<span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">The Look"—Rubens—Mrs. Bundle Again</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">III.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">The Dark Lady—Trouble Impending—Beautiful, +Golden Mamma</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">IV.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Aunt Maria—The Enemy Routed—London Town</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">V.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">My Cousins—Miss Blomfield—The Boy in Black</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">VI.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">The Little Baronet—Dolls—Cinder Parcels—The Old Gentleman Next Door—The Zoological Gardens</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">VII.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Polly and I Resolve to be "Very Religious"—Dr. Pepjohn—The Alms-Box—The Blind Beggar</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">VIII.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">Visiting the Sick</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">IX.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">"Peace be to this House"</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">X.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">Convalescence—Matrimonial Intentions—The Journey to Oakford—Our Welcome</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XI.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">The Tinsmith's—The Beaver Bonnets—A Flat Iron for a Farthing—I Fail to Secure a Sister—Rubens and the Doll</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XII.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">The Little Ladies Again—The Meads—The Drowned Doll</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XIII.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">Polly—The Pew and the Pulpit—The Fate of the +Flat Iron</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XIV.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">Rubens and I "drop in" at the Rectory—Gardens and Gardeners—My Father Comes for me</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XV.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">Nurse Bundle is Magnanimous—Mr. Gray—An +Explanation with my Father</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XVI.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">The real Mr. Gray—Nurse Bundle regards him +with Disfavour</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XVII.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">I fail to teach Latin to Mrs. Bundle—The +Rector teaches me</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XVIII.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">The Asthmatic Old Gentleman and his Riddles—I play Truant again—In the Big Garden</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_139">139</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XIX.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">The Tutor—The Parish—A new Contributor to +the Alms-box</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XX.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">The Tutor's Proposal—A Teachers' Meeting</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XXI.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">Oakford once more—The Satin Chairs—The Housekeeper—The Little Ladies Again—Family Monuments</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XXII.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">Nurse Bundle finds a Vocation—Ragged Robin's Wife—Mrs. Bundle's Ideas on Husbands and Public-Houses</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XXIII.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">I go to Eton—My Master—I serve him well</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XXIV.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">Collections—Leo's Letter—Nurse Bundle and +Sir Lionel</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XXV.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">The Death of Rubens—Polly's News—Last Times</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XXVI.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI"><span class="smcap">I hear from Mr. Jonathan Andrewes—Yorkshire—Alathea</span> <i>alias</i> <span class="smcap">Betty—We bury our Dead out +of our Sight—Voices of the North</span></a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XXVII.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">The New Rector—Aunt Maria tries to find him a Wife—My Father has a similar care for me</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_204">204</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XXVIII.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">I believe myself to be broken-hearted—Maria in Love—I make an Offer of Marriage, which is neither accepted nor refused</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_210">210</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XXIX.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">The Future Lady Damer—Polly has a Secret—Under +the Mulberry-Tree</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_219">219</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XXX.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">I meet the Heiress—I find myself mistaken on many points—A new Knot in the Family Complications</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XXXI.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">My Lady Frances—The Future Lady Damer—We understand each other at last</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_230">230</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XXXII.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">We come home—Mrs. Bundle quits Service</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td></tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span></p> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + +<table summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#pic_1">Mrs. Bundle</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#pic_1"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td></td><td class="tocpg f1">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#pic_2">The lank Lawyer wagged my hand of a Morning, and +said, "and how is Miss Eliza's little Beau?"</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>"<span class="smcap"><a href="#pic_3">Bless me, there's that Dog!"</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>"<span class="smcap"><a href="#pic_4">Mr. Buckle, I believe</a></span><a href="#pic_4">?"</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#pic_5">She rolled abruptly over on her Seat and scrambled +off backwards</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#pic_6">Polly and Regie in the "Pulpit" and the "Pew"</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>"<span class="smcap"><a href="#pic_7">All together, if you please</a></span><a href="#pic_7">!"</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#pic_8">It was only a quiet Dinner Party, and Miss Chislett had +brought out her Needlework</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_227">227</a></td></tr> +</table> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>MOTHERLESS</h3> + + +<p>When the children clamour for a story, my wife says to me, "Tell them +how you bought a flat iron for a farthing." Which I very gladly do; +for three reasons. In the first place, it is about myself, and so I +take an interest in it. Secondly, it is about some one very dear to +me, as will appear hereafter. Thirdly, it is the only original story +in my somewhat limited collection, and I am naturally rather proud of +the favour with which it is invariably received. I think it was the +foolish fancy of my dear wife and children combined that this most +veracious history should be committed to paper. It was either +because—being so unused to authorship—I had no notion of +composition, and was troubled by a tyro tendency to stray from my +subject; or because the part played by the flat iron, though +important, was small; or because I and my affairs were most chiefly +interesting to myself as writer, and my family as readers; or from a +combination of all these reasons together, that my tale outgrew its +first title and we had to add a second, and call it "Some Passages in +the Life of an only Son."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> + +<p>Yes, I was an only son. I was an only child also, speaking as the +world speaks, and not as Wordsworth's "simple child" spoke. But let me +rather use the "little maid's" reckoning, and say that I have, rather +than that I had, a sister. "Her grave is green, it may be seen." She +peeped into the world, and we called her Alice; then she went away +again and took my mother with her. It was my first great, bitter +grief.</p> + +<p>I remember well the day when I was led with much mysterious solemnity +to see my new sister. She was then a week old.</p> + +<p>"You must be quiet, sir," said Mrs. Bundle, a new member of our +establishment, "and not on no account make no noise to disturb your +dear, pretty mamma."</p> + +<p>Repressed by this accumulation of negatives, as well as by the size +and dignity of Mrs. Bundle's outward woman, I went a-tiptoe under her +large shadow to see my new acquisition.</p> + +<p>Very young children are not always pretty, but my sister was beautiful +beyond the wont of babies. It is an old simile, but she was like a +beautiful painting of a cherub. Her little face wore an expression +seldom seen except on a few faces of those who have but lately come +into this world, or those who are about to go from it. The hair that +just gilded the pink head I was allowed to kiss was one shade paler +than that which made a great aureole on the pillow about the pale face +of my "dear, pretty" mother.</p> + +<p>Years afterwards—in Belgium—I bought an old mediæval painting of a +Madonna. That Madonna had a stiffness, a deadly pallor, a thinness of +face incompatible with strict beauty. But on the thin lips there was a +smile for which no word is lovely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> enough; and in the eyes was a pure +and far-seeing look, hardly to be imagined except by one who painted +(like Fra Angelico) upon his knees. The background (like that of many +religious paintings of the date) was gilt. With such a look and such a +smile my mother's face shone out of the mass of her golden hair the +day she died. For this I bought the picture; for this I keep it still.</p> + +<p>But to go back.</p> + +<p>I liked Mrs. Bundle. I had taken to her from the evening when she +arrived in a red shawl, with several bandboxes. My affection for her +was established next day, when she washed my face before dinner. My +own nurse was bony, her hands were all knuckles, and she washed my +face as she scrubbed the nursery floor on Saturdays. Mrs. Bundle's +plump palms were like pincushions, and she washed my face as if it had +been a baby's.</p> + +<p>On the evening of the day when I first saw Sister Alice, I took tea in +the housekeeper's room. My nurse was out for the evening, but Mrs. +Cadman from the village was of the party, and neither cakes nor +conversation flagged. Mrs. Cadman had hollow eyes, and (on occasion) a +hollow voice, which was very impressive. She wore curl-papers +continually, which once caused me to ask my nurse if she ever took +them out.</p> + +<p>"On Sundays she do," said Nurse.</p> + +<p>"She's very religious then, I suppose," said I; and I did really think +it a great compliment that she paid to the first day of the week.</p> + +<p>I was only just four years old at this time—an age when one is apt to +ask inconvenient questions and to make strange observations—when one +is struggling to understand life through the mist of novelties about +one, and the additional confusion of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> falsehood which it is so common +to speak or to insinuate without scruple to very young children.</p> + +<p>The housekeeper and Mrs. Cadman had conversed for some time after tea +without diverting my attention from the new box of bricks which Mrs. +Bundle (commissioned by my father) had brought from the town for me; +but when I had put all the round arches on the pairs of pillars, and +had made a very successful "Tower of Babel" with cross layers of the +bricks tapering towards the top, I had leisure to look round and +listen.</p> + +<p>"I never know'd one with that look as lived," Mrs. Cadman was saying, +in her hollow tone. "It took notice from the first. Mark my words, +ma'am, a sweeter child I never saw, but it's <i>too</i> good and <i>too</i> +pretty to be long for this world."</p> + +<p>It is difficult to say exactly how much one understands at four years +old, or rather how far one quite comprehends the things one perceives +in part. I understood, or felt, enough of what I heard, and of the +sympathetic sighs that followed Mrs. Cadman's speech, to make me +stumble over the Tower of Babel, and present myself at Mrs. Cadman's +knee with the question—</p> + +<p>"Is mamma too pretty and good for this world, Mrs. Cadman?"</p> + +<p>I caught her elderly wink as quickly as the housekeeper, to whom it +was directed. I was not completely deceived by her answer.</p> + +<p>"Why, bless his dear heart, Master Reginald. Who did he think I was +talking about, love?"</p> + +<p>"My new baby sister," said I, without hesitation.</p> + +<p>"No such thing, lovey," said the audacious Mrs. Cadman; "housekeeper +and me was talking about Mrs. Jones's little boy."</p> + +<p>"Where does Mrs. Jones live?" I asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> + +<p>"In London town, my dear."</p> + +<p>I sighed. I knew nothing of London town, and could not prove that Mrs. +Jones had no existence. But I felt dimly dissatisfied, in spite of a +slice of sponge-cake, and being put to bed (for a treat) in papa's +dressing-room. My sleep was broken by uneasy dreams, in which Mrs. +Jones figured with the face of Mrs. Cadman and her hollow voice. I had +a sensation that that night the house never went to rest. People came +in and out with a pretentious purpose of not awaking me. My father +never came to bed. I felt convinced that I heard the doctor's voice in +the passage. At last, while it was yet dark, and when I seemed to have +been sleeping and waking, waking and falling asleep again in my crib +for weeks, my father came in with a strange look upon his face, and +took me up in his arms, and wrapped a blanket round me, saying mamma +wanted to kiss me, but I must be very good and make no noise. There +was little fear of that! I gazed in utter silence at the sweet face +that was whiter than the sheet below it, the hair that shone brighter +than ever in the candlelight. Only when I kissed her, and she had laid +her wan hand on my head, I whispered to my father, "Why is mamma so +cold?"</p> + +<p>With a smothered groan he carried me back to bed, and I cried myself +to sleep. It was too true, then. She was too good and too pretty for +this world, and before sunrise she was gone.</p> + +<p>Before the day was ended Sister Alice left us also. She never knew a +harder resting-place than our mother's arms.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>"THE LOOK"—RUBENS—MRS. BUNDLE AGAIN</h3> + + +<p>My widowed father and I were both terribly lonely. The depths of his +loss in the lovely and lovable wife who had been his constant +companion for nearly six years I could not fathom at the time. For my +own part, I was quite as miserable as I have ever been since, and I +doubt if I shall ever feel such overwhelming desolation again, unless +the same sorrow befalls me as then befell him.</p> + +<p>I "fretted"—as the servants expressed it—to such an extent as to +affect my health; and I fancy it was because my father's attention was +called to the fact that I was fast fading after the mother and sister +whose death (and my own loneliness) I bewailed, that he roused himself +from his own grief to comfort mine. Once more I was "dressed" after +tea. Of late my bony nurse had not thought it necessary to go through +this ceremony, and I had crept about in the same crape-covered frock +from breakfast to bedtime.</p> + +<p>Now I came down to dessert again, and though I think the empty place +at the end of the table gave my father a fresh shock when I took my +old post by him, yet I fancy the lonely evening was less lonely for my +presence.</p> + +<p>From his intense indulgence I think I dimly gathered that he thought +me ill. I combined this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> in my mind with a speech of my nurse's that I +had overheard, and which gave me the horrors at the time—"He's got +<i>the look</i>! It's his poor ma over again!"—and I felt a sort of +melancholy self-importance not uncommon with children who are out of +health.</p> + +<p>I may say here that my nurse had a quality very common amongst +uneducated people. She was "sensational;" and her custom of going over +all the circumstances of my mother's death and funeral (down to the +price of the black paramatta of which her own dress was composed) with +her friends, when she took me out walking, had not tended to make me +happier or more cheerful.</p> + +<p>That night I ate more from my father's plate than I had eaten for +weeks. As I lay after dinner with my head upon his breast, he stroked +my curls with a tender touch that seemed to heal my griefs, and said, +almost in a tone of remorse,</p> + +<p>"What can papa do for you, my poor dear boy?"</p> + +<p>I looked up quickly into his face.</p> + +<p>"What would Regie like?" he persisted.</p> + +<p>I quite understood him now, and spoke out boldly the desires of my +heart.</p> + +<p>"Please, papa, I should like Mrs. Bundle for a nurse; and I do very +much want Rubens."</p> + +<p>"And who is Rubens?" asked my father.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, it's a dog," I said. "It belongs to Mr. Mackenzie at the +school. And it's such a little dear, all red and white; and it licked +my face when nurse and I were there yesterday, and I put my hand in +its mouth, and it rolled over on its back, and it's got long ears, and +it followed me all the way home, and I gave it a piece of bread, and +it can sit up, and"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"But, my little man," interrupted my father—and he had absolutely +smiled at my catalogue of marvels—"if Rubens belongs to Mr. +Mackenzie, and is such a wonderful fellow, I'm afraid Mr. Mackenzie +won't part with him."</p> + +<p>"He would," I said, "but—" and I paused, for I feared the barrier was +insurmountable.</p> + +<p>"But what?" said my father.</p> + +<p>"He wants ten shillings for him, Nurse says."</p> + +<p>"If that's all, Regie," said my father, "you and I will go and buy +Rubens to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>Rubens was a little red and white spaniel of much beauty and sagacity. +He was the prettiest, gentlest, most winning of playfellows. With him +by my side, I now ran merrily about, instead of creeping moodily at +the heels of nurse and her friends. Abundantly occupied in testing the +tricks he knew, and teaching him new ones, I had the less leisure to +listen open-mouthed to cadaverous gossip of the Cadman class. Finally, +when I had bidden him good-night a hundred times, with absolutely +fraternal embraces, I was soothed by the light weight of his head +resting on my foot. He seemed to chase the hideous fancies which had +hitherto passed from nurse's daytime conversation to trouble my night +visions, as he would chase a water-fowl from a reedy marsh, and I +slept—as he did—peacefully.</p> + +<p>Nor was this all. My other wish was also to be fulfilled, but not +without some vexations beforehand. It was by a certain air and tone +which my nurse suddenly assumed towards me, and which it is difficult +to describe by any other word than "heighty-teighty," and also by dark +hints of changes which she hoped (but seemed far from believing) would +be for my good, and finally, by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> downright lamentations and tragic +inquiries as to what she had done to be parted from her boy, and +"could her chickabiddy have the heart to drive away his loving and +faithful nursey," that I learned that it was contemplated to supersede +her by some one else, and that if she did not know that I was to blame +in the matter, she at any rate believed me to have influence enough to +obtain a reversal of the decree. That Mrs. Bundle was to be her +successor I gathered from allusions to "your great fat bouncing women +that would eat their heads off; but as to cleaning out a nursery—let +them see!" But her most masterly stroke was a certain conversation +with Mrs. Cadman carried on in my hearing.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever notice, Mrs. Cadman," inquired my bony nurse of her not +less bony visitor—"Have you ever notice how them stout people as +looks so good-natured as if butter wouldn't melt in their mouths is +that wicked and cruel underneath?" And then followed a series of +nurse's most ghastly anecdotes, relative to fat mothers who had +ill-treated their children, fat nurses who had nearly been the death +of their unfortunate charges, fat female murderers, and a fat +acquaintance of her own, who was "taken" in apoplexy after a fit of +rage with her husband.</p> + +<p>"What a warning! what a moral!" said Mrs. Cadman. She meant it for a +pious observation, but I felt that the warning and the moral were for +me. And not even the presence of Rubens could dispel the darkness of +my dreams that night.</p> + +<p>Alternately goaded and caressed by my nurse, who now laid aside a +habit she had of beating a tattoo with her knuckles on my head when I +was naughty, to the intense confusion and irritation of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> my brain, I +at last resolved to beg my father to let her remain with us. I felt +that it was—as she had pointed out—intense ingratitude on my part to +wish to part with her, and I said as much when I went down to dessert +that evening. Morever, I now lived in vague fear of those terrible +qualities which lay hidden beneath Mrs. Bundle's benevolent exterior.</p> + +<p>"If nurse has been teasing you about the matter," said my father, with +a frown, "that would decide me to get rid of her, if I had not so +decided before. As to your not liking Mrs. Bundle now—My dear little +son, you must learn to know your own mind. You told me you wanted Mrs. +Bundle—by very good luck I have been able to get hold of her, and +when she comes you must make the best of her."</p> + +<p>She came the next day, and my bony nurse departed. She wept +indignantly, I wept remorsefully, and then waited in terror for the +manifestation of Mrs. Bundle's cruel propensities.</p> + +<p>I waited in vain. The reign of Mrs. Bundle was a reign of peace and +plenty, of loving-kindness and all good things. Moreover it was a +reign of wholesomeness, both for body and mind. She did not give me +cheese and beer from her own supper when she was in a good temper, nor +pound my unfortunate head with her knuckles if I displeased her. She +was strict in the maintenance of a certain old-fashioned nursery +etiquette, which obliged me to put away my chair after meals, fold my +clothes at bedtime, put away my toys when I had done with them, say +"please," "thank you," grace before and after meals, prayers night and +morning, a hymn in bed, and the Church Catechism on Sunday. She +snubbed the maids who alluded in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> my presence to things I could not or +should not understand, and she directed her own conversation to me, on +matters suitable to my age, instead of talking over my childish head +to her gossips. The stories of horror and crime, the fore-doomed +babies, the murders, the mysterious whispered communications faded +from my untroubled brain. Nurse Bundle's tales were of the young +masters and misses she had known. Her worst domestic tragedy was about +the boy who broke his leg over the chair he had failed to put away +after breakfast. Her romances were the good old Nursery Legends of +Dick Whittington, the Babes in the Wood, and so forth. My dreams +became less like the columns of a provincial newspaper. I imagined +myself another Marquis of Carabas, with Rubens in boots. I made a +desert island in the garden, which only lacked the geography-book +peculiarity of "water all round" it. I planted beans in the fond hope +that they would tower to the skies and take me with them. I became—in +fancy—Lord Mayor of London, and Mrs. Bundle shared my civic throne +and dignities, and we gave Rubens six beefeaters and a barge to wait +upon his pleasure.</p> + +<p>Life, in short, was utterly changed for me. I grew strong, and stout, +and well, and happy. And I loved Nurse Bundle.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>THE DARK LADY—TROUBLE IMPENDING—BEAUTIFUL, GOLDEN MAMMA</h3> + + +<p>So two years passed away. Nurse Bundle was still with me. With her I +"did lessons" after a fashion. I learned to read, I had many of the +Psalms and a good deal of poetry—sacred and secular—by heart. In an +old-fashioned, but slow and thorough manner, I acquired the first +outlines of geography, arithmetic, etc., and what Mrs. Bundle taught +me I repeated to Rubens. But I don't think he ever learned the +"capital towns of Europe," though we studied them together under the +same oak tree.</p> + +<p>We had a happy two years of it together under the Bundle dynasty, and +then trouble came.</p> + +<p>I was never fond of demonstrative affection from strangers. The ladies +who lavish kisses and flattery upon one's youthful head after eating +papa's good dinner—keeping a sharp protective eye on their own silk +dresses, and perchance pricking one with a brooch or pushing a curl +into one eye with a kid-gloved finger—I held in unfeigned abhorrence. +But over and above my natural instinct against the unloving fondling +of drawing-room visitors, I had a special and peculiar antipathy to +Miss Eliza Burton.</p> + +<p>At first, I think I rather admired her. Her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> rolling eyes, the black +hair plastered low upon her forehead,—the colour high, but never +changeable or delicate—the amplitude and rustle of her skirts, the +impressiveness of her manner, her very positive matureness, were just +what the crude taste of childhood is apt to be fascinated by. She was +the sister of my father's man of business; and she and her brother +were visiting at my home. She really looked well in the morning, +"toned down" by a fresh, summer muslin, and all womanly anxiety to +relieve my father of the trouble of making the tea for breakfast.</p> + +<p>"Dear Mr. Dacre, <i>do</i> let me relieve you of that task," she cried, her +ribbons fluttering over the sugar-basin. "I never like to see a +gentleman sacrificing himself for his guests at breakfast. You have +enough to do at dinner, carving large joints, and jointing those +terrible birds. At breakfast a gentleman should have no trouble but +the cracking of his own egg and the reading of his own newspaper. Now +do let me!"</p> + +<p>Miss Burton's long fingers were almost on the tea-caddy; but at that +moment my father quietly opened it, and began to measure out the tea.</p> + +<p>"I never trouble my lady visitors with this," he said, quietly. "I am +only too well accustomed to it."</p> + +<p>Child as I was, I felt well satisfied that my father would let no one +fill my mother's place. For so it was, and all Miss Burton's efforts +failed to put her, even for a moment, at the head of his table.</p> + +<p>I do not quite know how or when it was that I began to realize that +such was her effort. I remember once hearing a scrap of conversation +between our most respectable and respectful butler and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +housekeeper—"behind the scenes"—as the former worthy came from the +breakfast-room.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pic_2" id="pic_2"></a> + +<img src="images/image_014.jpg" alt="The lank lawyer wagged my hand of a morning, and said, "And how is Miss Eliza's little beau?" " width="500" height="829" /><br /> +<span class="caption">The lank lawyer wagged my hand of a morning, and said, +"And how is Miss Eliza's little beau?"</span></p> + +<p>"And how's the new missis this morning, Mr. Smith?" asked the +housekeeper, with a bitterness not softened by the prospect of +possible dethronement.</p> + +<p>"Another try for the tea-tray, ma'am," replied Smith, "but it's no +go."</p> + +<p>"A brazen, black-haired old maid!" cried the housekeeper. "To think of +her taking the place of that sweet angel, Mrs. Dacre (and she barely +two years in her grave), and pretending to act a mother's part by the +poor boy and all. I've no patience!"</p> + +<p>On one excuse or another, the Burtons contrived to extend their visit; +and the prospect of a marriage between my father and Miss Burton was +now discussed too openly behind his back for me to fail to hear it. +Then Nurse Bundle on this subject hardly exercised her usual +discretion in withholding me from servants' gossip, and servants' +gossip from me. Her own indignation was strongly aroused, and I had no +difficulty in connecting her tearful embraces, and her allusions to my +dead mother, with the misfortune we all believed to be impending.</p> + + + +<p>At first I had admired Miss Burton's bouncing looks. Then my head had +been turned to some extent by her flattery, and by the establishment +of that most objectionable of domestic jokes, the parody of love +affairs in connection with children. Miss Burton called me her little +sweetheart, and sent me messages, and vowed that I was quite a little +man of the world, and then was sure that I was a desperate flirt. The +lank lawyer wagged my hand of a morning, and said, "And how is +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>Miss Eliza's little beau?" And I laughed, and looked important, +and talked rather louder, and escaped as often as I could from the +nursery, and endeavoured to act up to the character assigned me with +about as much grace as Æsop's donkey trying to dance. I must have +become a perfect nuisance to any sensible person at this period, and +indeed my father had an interview with Nurse Bundle on the subject.</p> + +<p>"Master Reginald seems to me to be more troublesome than he used to +be, nurse," said my father.</p> + +<p>"Indeed you say true, sir," said Mrs. Bundle, only too glad to reply; +"but it's the drawing-room and not the nursery as does it. Miss Burton +is always a begging for him to be allowed to stay up at nights and to +lunch in the dining-room, and to come down of a morning, and to have a +half-holiday in an afternoon; and, saving your better knowledge, sir, +it's a bad thing to break into the regular ways of children. It ain't +for their happiness, nor for any one else's."</p> + +<p>"You are perfectly right, perfectly right," said my father, "and it +shall not occur again. Ah! my poor boy," he added in an irrepressible +outburst, "you suffer for lack of a mother's care. I do what I can, +but a man cannot supply a woman's place to a child."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bundle's feelings at this soliloquy may be imagined. "You might +have knocked me down with a feather, sir," she assured the butler +(unlikely as it seemed!) in describing the scene afterwards. She found +strength, however, to reply to my father's remark.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, sir, a mother's place never can be filled to a child by no +one whatever. Least of all such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> a mother as he had in your dear lady. +But he's a boy, sir, and not a girl, and in all reason a father is +what he'll chiefly look to in a year or two. And for the meanwhile, +sir, I ask you, could Master Reginald look better or behave better +than he did afore the company come? It's only natural as smart ladies +who knows nothing whatever of children, and how they should be brought +up, and what's for their good, should think it a kindness to spoil +them. Any one may see the lady has no notion of children, and would be +the ruin of Master Reginald if she had much to do with him; but when +the company's gone, sir, and he's left quiet with his papa, you'll +find him as good as any young gentleman needs to be, if you'll excuse +my freedom in speaking, sir."</p> + +<p>Whatever my father thought of Mrs. Bundle's freedom of speech, he only +said,</p> + +<p>"Master Reginald will be quite under your orders for the future, +Nurse," and so dismissed her.</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Bundle having "said her say," withdrew to say it over again +in confidence to the housekeeper.</p> + +<p>As for me, if my vanity was stronger than my good taste for a while, +the quickness of childish instinct soon convinced me that Miss Burton +had no real affection for me. Then I was puzzled by her spasmodic +attentions when my father was in the room, and her rough repulses when +I "bothered" her at less appropriate moments. I got tired of her, too, +of the sound of her voice, of her black hair and unchanging red +cheeks. And from the day that I caught her beating Rubens for lying on +the edge of her dress, I lived in terror of her. Those rolling black +eyes had not a pleasant look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> when the lady was out of temper. And was +she really to be the new mistress of the house? To take the place of +my fair, gentle, beautiful mother? That wave of household gossip which +for ever surges behind the master's back was always breaking over me +now, in expressions of pity for the motherless child of "the dear lady +dead and gone."</p> + +<p>"I don't like black hair," I announced one day at luncheon; "I like +beautiful, shining, golden hair, like poor mamma's."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk nonsense, Reginald," said my father, angrily, and shortly +afterwards I was dismissed to the nursery.</p> + +<p>If I had only had my childish memory to trust to, I do not think that +I could have kept so clear a remembrance of my mother as I had. But in +my father's dressing-room there hung a water-colour sketch of his +young wife, with me—her first baby—on her lap. It was a very happy +portrait. The little one was nestled in her arms, and she herself was +just looking up with a bright smile of happiness and pride. That look +came full at the spectator, and perhaps it was because it was so very +lifelike that I had (ever since I could remember) indulged a curious +freak of childish sentiment by nodding to the picture and saying, +"Good-morning, mamma," whenever I came into the room. Such little +superstitions become part of one's life, and I freely confess that I +salute that portrait still! I remember, too, that as time went on I +lost sight of the fact that it was I who lay on my mother's lap, and +always regarded the two as Mamma and Sister Alice—that ever-baby +sister whom I had once kissed, and no more. I generally saw them at +least once a day, for it was my privilege to play in my father's +dressing-room<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> during part of his toilet, and we had a stereotyped +joke between us in reference to his shaving, which always ended in my +receiving a piece of the creamy lather on the tip of my nose.</p> + +<p>But it was one evening when the shadow hanging over the household was +deepest upon me, that I slipped unobserved out of the drawing-room +where Miss Burton was "performing" on my mother's piano, and crept +slowly and sadly upstairs. I went slowly, partly out of my heavy +grief, and partly because I carried Rubens in my arms. Had not the +lawyer kicked him because he lay upon the pedal? I was resolved that +after such an insult he should not so much as have the trouble of +walking upstairs. So I carried him, and as I went I condoled with him.</p> + +<p>"Did the nasty man kick him? My poor Ru, my darling, dear Ru! The +pedal is yours, and not his, and the whole house is yours, and not his +nor Miss Burton's; and oh, I wish they would go!"</p> + +<p>As I whined, Rubens whined; as I kissed him he licked me, and the +result was unfavourable to balance, and I was obliged to sit down on a +step. And as I sat I wept, and as I wept that overpowering mother-need +came over me, which drives even the little ragamuffin of the gutter to +carry his complaints to "mother" for comfort and redress. And I took +up Rubens in my arms again, sobbing, and saying, "I shall go to +Mamma!" and so weeping and in the darkness we crept into the +dressing-room.</p> + +<p>I could see nothing, but I knew well where "Mamma" was, and standing +under the picture, I sobbed out my incoherent complaint.</p> + +<p>"Good-evening, Mamma! Good-evening, Sis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>ter Alice! Please, Mamma, it's +me and Rubens." (Sobs on my part, and frantic attempts by Rubens to +lick every inch of my face at once.) "And please, Mamma, we're very +miser-r-r-r-rable. And oh! please, Mamma, don't let papa marry Miss +Burton. Please, please don't, dear, beautiful, golden Mamma! And oh! +how we wish you could come back! Rubens and I."</p> + +<p>My voice died away with a wail which was dismally echoed by Rubens. +Then, suddenly, in the darkness came a sob that was purely human, and +I was clasped in a woman's arms, and covered with tender kisses and +soothing caresses. For one wild moment, in my excitement, and the +boundless faith of childhood, I thought my mother had heard me, and +come back.</p> + +<p>But it was only Nurse Bundle. She had been putting away some clothes +in my father's bedroom, and had been drawn to the dressing-room by +hearing my voice.</p> + +<p>I think this scene decided her to take some active steps. I feel +convinced that in some way it was through her influence that a letter +of invitation was despatched the following day to Aunt Maria.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>AUNT MARIA—THE ENEMY ROUTED—LONDON TOWN</h3> + + +<p>Aunt Maria was my father's sister. She was married to a wealthy +gentleman, and had a large family of children. It was from her that we +originally got Nurse Bundle; and anecdotes of her and of my cousins, +and wonderful accounts of London (where they lived), had long figured +conspicuously in Mrs. Bundle's nursery chronicles.</p> + +<p>Aunt Maria came, and Uncle Ascott came with her.</p> + +<p>It is not altogether without a reason that I speak of them in this +order. Aunt Maria was the active partner of their establishment. She +was a clever, vigorous, well-educated, inartistic, kindly, managing +woman. She was not exactly "meddling," but when she thought it her +duty to interfere in a matter, no delicacy of scruples, and no +nervousness baulked the directness of her proceedings. When she was +most sweeping or uncompromising, Uncle Ascott would say, "My dear +Maria!" But it was generally from a spasm of nervous cowardice, and +not from any deliberate wish to interrupt Aunt Maria's course of +action. He trusted her entirely.</p> + +<p>Aunt Maria was very shrewd, and that long interview with Nurse Bundle +in her own room was hardly needed to acquaint her with the condition +of domestic politics in our establishment. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> "took in" the Burtons +with one glance. The ladies "fell out" the following evening. The +Burtons left Dacrefield the next morning, and at lunch Aunt Maria +"pulled them to pieces" with as little remorse as a cook would pluck a +partridge. I never saw Miss Eliza Burton again.</p> + +<p>Aunt Maria did not fondle or spoil me. She might perhaps have shown +more tenderness to her brother's only and motherless child; but, after +Miss Burton, hers was a fault on the right side. She had a kindly +interest in me, and she showed it by asking me to pay her a visit in +London.</p> + +<p>"It will do the child good, Regie," she said to my father. "He will be +with other children, and all our London sights will be new to him. I +will take every care of him, and you must come up and fetch him back. +It will do you good too."</p> + +<p>"To be sure!" chimed in Uncle Ascott, patting me good-naturedly on the +head; "Master Reginald will fancy himself in Fairy Land. There are the +Zoological Gardens, and Madame Tussaud's Waxwork Exhibition, and the +Pantomime, and no one knows what besides! We shall make him quite at +home! He and Helen are just the same age, I think, and Polly's a year +or so younger, eh, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Nineteen months," said Aunt Maria, decisively; and she turned once +more to my father, upon whom she was urging certain particulars.</p> + +<p>It was with unfeigned joy that I heard my father say,</p> + +<p>"Well, thank you, Maria. I do think it will do him good. And I'll +certainly come and look you and Robert up myself."</p> + +<p>There was only one drawback to my pleasure, when the much anticipated +time of my first visit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> to London came. Aunt Maria did not like dogs; +Uncle Ascott too said that "they were very rural and nice for the +country, but that they didn't do in a town house. Besides which, +Regie," he added, "such a pretty dog as Rubens would be sure to be +stolen. And you wouldn't like that."</p> + +<p>"I will take good care of Rubens, my boy," added my father; and with +this promise I was obliged to content myself.</p> + +<p>The excitement and pleasure of the various preparations for my visit +were in themselves a treat. There had been some domestic discussion as +to a suitable box for my clothes, and the matter was not quickly +settled. There happened to be no box of exactly the convenient size in +the house, and it was proposed to pack my things with Nurse Bundle's +in one of the larger cases. This was a disappointment to my dignity; +and I ventured to hint that I "should like a trunk all to myself, like +a grown-up gentleman," without, however, much hope that my wishes +would be fulfilled. The surprise was all the pleasanter when, on the +day before our departure, there arrived by the carrier's cart from our +nearest town a small, daintily-finished trunk, with a lock and key to +it, and my initials in brass nails upon the outside. It was a parting +gift from my father.</p> + +<p>"I like young ladies and gentlemen to have things nice about 'em," +Nurse Bundle observed, as we prepared to pack my trunk. "Then they +takes a pride in their things, and so it stands to reason they takes +more care of 'em."</p> + +<p>To this excellent sentiment I gave my heartiest assent, and proceeded +to illustrate it by the fastidious care with which I selected and +folded the clothes I wished to take. As I examined my socks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> for signs +of wear and tear, and then folded them by the ingenious process of +grasping the heels and turning them inside out, in imitation of Nurse +Bundle, an idea struck me, based upon my late reading and approaching +prospects of travel.</p> + +<p>"Nurse," said I, "I think I should like to learn to darn socks, +because, you know, I might want to know how, if I was cast away on a +desert island."</p> + +<p>"If ever you find yourself on a desolate island, Master Reginald," +said Nurse Bundle, "just you write straight off to me, and I'll come +and do them kind of things for you."</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "only mind you bring Rubens, if I haven't got him."</p> + +<p>For I had dim ideas that some Robinson Crusoe adventures might befall +me before I returned home from this present expedition.</p> + +<p>My father's place was about sixty miles from London. Mr. and Mrs. +Ascott had come down in their own carriage, and were to return the +same way.</p> + +<p>I was to go with them, and Nurse Bundle also. She was to sit in the +rumble of the carriage behind. Every particular of each new +arrangement afforded me great amusement; and I could hardly control my +impatience for the eventful day to arrive.</p> + +<p>It came at last. There was very early breakfast for us all in the +dining-room. No appetite, however, had I; and very cruel I thought +Aunt Maria for insisting that I should swallow a certain amount of +food, as a condition of being allowed to go at all. My enforced +breakfast over, I went to look for Rubens. Ever since the day when it +was first settled that I should go, the dear dog had kept close, very +close at my heels. That depressed and aimless wandering about which +always afflicts the dogs of the household when any of the family<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> are +going away from home was strong upon him. After the new trunk came +into my room, Rubens took into his head a fancy for lying upon it; and +though the brass nails must have been very uncomfortable, and though +my bed was always free to him, on the box he was determined to be, and +on the box he lay for hours together.</p> + +<p>It was on the box that I found him, in the portico, despite the cords +which now added a fresh discomfort to his self-chosen resting-place. I +called to him, but though he wagged his tail he seemed disinclined to +move, and lay curled up with one eye shut and one fixed on the +carriage at the door.</p> + +<p>"He's been trying to get into the carriage, sir," said the butler.</p> + +<p>"You want to go too, poor Ruby, don't you?" I said; and I went in +search of meats to console him.</p> + +<p>He accepted a good breakfast from my hands with gratitude, and then +curled himself up with one eye watchful as before. The reason of his +proceedings was finally made evident by his determined struggles to +accompany us at the last; and it was not till he had been forcibly +shut up in the coach-house that we were able to start. My grief at +parting with him was lessened by the distraction of another question.</p> + +<p>Of all places about our equipage, I should have preferred riding with +the postilion. Short of that, I was most anxious to sit behind in the +rumble with my nurse. This favour was at length conceded, and after a +long farewell from my father, gilded with a sovereign in my pocket, I +was, with a mountain of wraps, consigned to the care of Nurse Bundle +in the back seat.</p> + +<p>The dew was still on the ground, the birds sang their loudest, the +morning air was fresh and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> delicious, and before we had driven five +miles on our way I could have eaten three such breakfasts as the one I +had rejected at six o'clock. In the first two villages through which +we drove people seemed to be only just getting up and beginning the +day's business. In one or two "genteel" houses the blinds were still +down; in reference to which I resolved that when <i>I</i> grew up I would +not waste the best part of the day in bed, with the sun shining, the +birds singing, the flowers opening, and country people going about +their business, all beyond my closed windows.</p> + +<p>"Nurse, please, I should like always to have breakfast at six o'clock. +Do you hear, Nursey?" I added, for Mrs. Bundle feigned to be absorbed +in contemplating a flock of sheep which were being driven past us.</p> + +<p>"Very well, my dear. We'll see."</p> + +<p>That "we'll see" of Nurse Bundle's was a sort of moral soothing-syrup +which she kept to allay inconvenient curiosity and over-pertinacious +projects in the nursery.</p> + +<p>I had soon reason to decide that if I had breakfast at six, luncheon +would not be unacceptable at half-past ten, at about which time I lost +sight of the scenery and confined my attention to a worsted workbag in +which Nurse Bundle had a store of most acceptable buns. Halting +shortly after this to water the horses, a glass of milk was got for me +from a wayside inn, over the door of which hung a small gate, on whose +bars the following legend was painted:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This gate hangs well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hinders none.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Refresh and pay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And travel on."<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>"Did you put that up?" I inquired of the man who brought my milk.</p> + +<p>"No, sir. It's been there long enough," was his reply.</p> + +<p>"What does 'hinders none' mean?" I asked.</p> + +<p>The man looked back, and considered the question.</p> + +<p>"It means as it's not in the way of nothing. It don't hinder nobody," +he replied at last.</p> + +<p>"It couldn't if it wanted to," said I; "for it doesn't reach across +the road. If it did, I suppose it would be a tollbar."</p> + +<p>"He's a rum little chap, that!" said the waiter to Nurse Bundle, when +he had taken back my empty glass. And he unmistakably nodded at me.</p> + +<p>"What is a rum little chap, Nurse?" I inquired when we had fairly +started once more.</p> + +<p>"It's very low language," said Mrs. Bundle, indignantly; and this fact +depressed me for several miles.</p> + +<p>At about half-past eleven we rattled into Farnham, and stopped to +lunch at "The Bush." I was delighted to get down from my perch, and to +stretch my cramped legs by running about in the charming garden behind +that celebrated inn. Dim bright memories are with me still of the +long-windowed parlour opening into a garden verdant with grass, and +stately yew hedges, and formal clipped trees; gay, too, with bright +flowers, and mysterious with a walk winding under an arch of the yew +hedge to the more distant bowling-green. On one side of this arch an +admirably-carved stone figure in broadcoat and ruffles played +perpetually upon a stone fiddle to an equally spirited shepherdess in +hoop and high heels, who was for ever posed in dancing posture upon +her pedestal and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> never danced away. As I wandered round the garden +whilst luncheon was being prepared, I was greatly taken with these +figures, and wondered if it might be that they were an enchanted +prince and princess turned to stone by some wicked witch, envious of +their happiness in the peaceful garden amid the green alleys and +fragrant flowers. As I ate my luncheon I felt as if I were consuming +what was their property, and pondered the supposition that some day +the spell might be broken, and the stone-bound couple came down from +those high pedestals, and go dancing and fiddling into the Farnham +streets.</p> + +<p>They showed no symptoms of moving whilst we remained, and, duly +refreshed, we now proceeded on our way. I rejected the offer of a seat +inside the carriage with scorn, and Nurse and I clambered back to our +perch. No easy matter for either of us, by the way!—Nurse Bundle +being so much too large, and I so much too small, to compass the feat +with anything approaching to ease.</p> + +<p>I was greatly pleased with the dreary beauties of Bagshot Heath, and +Nurse Bundle (to whom the whole journey was familiar) enlivened this +part of our way by such anecdotes of Dick Turpin, the celebrated +highwayman, as she deemed suitable for my amusement. With what +interest I gazed at the little house by the roadside where Turpin was +wont to lodge, and where, arriving late one night, he demanded +beef-steak for supper in terms so peremptory that, there being none in +the house, the old woman who acted as his housekeeper was obliged to +walk, then and there, to the nearest town to procure it! This and +various other incidents of the robber's career I learned from Nurse +Bundle, who told me that traditions of his exploits and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> character +were still fresh in the neighbouring villages.</p> + +<p>At Virginia Water we dined and changed horses. We stayed here longer +than was necessary, that I might see the lake and the ship; and Uncle +Ascott gave sixpence to an old man with a wooden leg who told us all +about it. And still I declined an inside place, and went back with +Nurse Bundle to the rumble. Early rising and the long drive began to +make me sleepy. The tame beauties of the valley of the Thames drew +little attention from my weary eyes; and I do not remember much about +the place where we next halted, except that the tea tasted of hay, and +that the bread and butter were good.</p> + +<p>I gazed dreamily at Hounslow, despite fresh tales of Dick Turpin; and +all the successive "jogs" by which Nurse called my incapable attention +to the lamplighters, the shops, the bottles in the chemists' windows, +and Hyde Park, failed to rouse me to any intelligent appreciation of +the great city, now that I had reached it. After a long weary dream of +rattle and bustle, and dim lamps, and houses stretching upwards like +Jack's beanstalk through the chilly and foggy darkness, the carriage +stopped with one final jolt in a quiet and partially-lighted square; +and I was lifted down, and staggered into a house where the light was +as abundant and overpowering as it was feeble and inefficient without, +and, cramped in my limbs, and smothered with shawls, I could only beg +in my utter weariness to be put to bed.</p> + +<p>Aunt Maria was always sensible, and generally kind.</p> + +<p>"Bring him at once to his room, Mrs. Bundle," she said, "and get his +clothes off, and I will bring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> him some hot wine and water and a few +rusks." As in a dream, I was undressed, my face and hands washed, my +prayers said in a somewhat perfunctory fashion, and my evening hymn +commuted in consideration of my fatigues for the beautiful verse, "I +will lay me down in peace, and take my rest," etc.; and by the time +that I sank luxuriously between the clean sheets, I was almost +sufficiently restored to appreciate the dainty appearance of my room. +Then Aunt Maria brought me the hot wine and water flavoured with +sleep-giving cloves, and Nurse folded my clothes, and tucked me up, +and left me, with the friendly reflection of the lamps without to keep +me company.</p> + +<p>I do not think I had really been to sleep, but I believe I was dozing, +when I fancied that I heard the familiar sound of Rubens lapping water +from the toilette jug in my room at home. Just conscious that I was +not there, and that Rubens could not be here, the sound began to +trouble me. At first I was too sleepy to care to look round. Then as I +became more awake and the sound not less distinct, I felt fidgety and +frightened, and at last called faintly for Nurse Bundle.</p> + +<p>Then the sound stopped. I could hardly breathe, and had just resolved +upon making a brave sally for assistance, when—plump! <i>something</i> +alighted on my bed, and, wildly impossible as it seemed, Rubens +himself waggled up to my pillow, and began licking my face as if his +life depended on laying my nose and all other projecting parts of my +countenance flat with my cheeks.</p> + +<p>How he had got to London we never knew. As he made an easy escape from +the coach-house at Dacrefield, it was always supposed that he simply +followed the carriage, and had the wit to hide<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> himself when we +stopped on the road. He was terribly tired. He might well be thirsty!</p> + +<p>I levied large contributions on the box of rusks which Aunt Maria had +left by my bedside, for his benefit, and he supped well.</p> + +<p>Then he curled himself up in his own proper place at my feet. He was +intensely self-satisfied, and expressed his high idea of his own +exploit by self-gratulatory "grumphs," as after describing many mystic +circles, and scraping up the fair Marseilles quilt on some plan of his +own, he brought his nose and tail together in a satisfactory position +in his nest, and we passed our first night in London in dreamless and +profound sleep.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>MY COUSINS—MISS BLOMFIELD—THE BOY IN BLACK</h3> + + +<p>My first letter to my father was the work of several days, and as my +penmanship was not of a rapid order, it cost me a good deal of +trouble. When it was finished it ran thus:</p> + +<p class="sig2"><span class="smcap">My dear papa</span>,</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I hope you are quite well. i am quite well. Rubens is here +and he is quite well. We dont no how he got here but i am +verry glad. Ant Maria said well he cant be sent back now so +he sleeps on my bed and i like London it is a kweer place +the houses are very big and i like my cussens pretty well +they are all gals their nozes are very big i like Polly.</p></div> + +<p class="sig2">Nurse is quite well so good-bye.</p> + +<p class="sig3">i am your very loving son,</p> + +<p class="sig4"><span class="smcap">Reginald Dacre</span>.</p> + +<p>Though I cannot defend the spelling of the above document, I must say +that it does not leave much to be added to the portrait of my cousins. +But it will be more polite to introduce them separately, as they were +presented to me.</p> + +<p>I heard them, by the bye, before I saw them. It was whilst I was +dressing, the morning after my arrival, that I heard sounds in the +room below,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> which were interpreted by Nurse as being "Miss Maria +doing her music." The peculiarity of Miss Maria's music was that after +a scramble over the notes, suggestive of some one running to get +impetus for a jump, and when the ear waited impatiently for the +consummation, Miss Maria baulked her leap, so to speak, and got no +farther, and began the scramble again, and stuck once more, and so on. +And as, whilst finding the running passage quite too much for one +hand, she struggled on with a different phrase in the other hand at +the same time, instead of practising the two hands separately, her +chances of final success seemed remote indeed. Then I heard the +performance in peculiar circumstances. Nurse Bundle had opened my +window, and about two minutes after my cousin commenced her practice, +an organ-grinder in the street below began his. The subject of poor +Maria's piece knew no completion, as she stuck halfway; but the +organ-grinder's melodies only stopped for a touch to the mechanism, +and Black-Eyed Susan passed into the Old Hundredth, awkwardly, but +with hardly a perceptible pause. The effect of the joint performance +was at first ludicrous, and by degrees maddening, especially when we +had come to the Old Hundredth, which was so familiar in connection +with the words of the Psalm.</p> + +<p>"Three and four and—" began poor Maria afresh, with desperate +resolution; and then off she went up the key-board; "one and two and +three and four and, one and two and three and four and—"</p> + +<p>"—joy—His—courts—un—to," ground the organ in the inevitable +pause. And then my cousin took courage and made another start<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>—"Three +and four and one and two and," etc.; but at the old place the nasal +notes of the other instrument evoked "al—ways," from my memory; and +Maria pausing in despair, the Old Hundredth finished triumphantly, +"For—it—is—seemly—so—to—do."</p> + +<p>At half-past eight Maria stopped abruptly in the middle of her run, +and Nurse took me down to the school-room for breakfast.</p> + +<p>The school-room was high and narrow, with a very old carpet, and a +very old piano, some books, two globes, and a good deal of feminine +rubbish in the way of old work-baskets, unfinished sewing, etc. There +were two long windows, the lower halves of which were covered with +paint. This mattered the less as the only view from them was of +backyards, roofs, and chimneys. Living as I did, so much alone with my +father, I was at first oppressed by the number of petticoats in the +room—five girls of ages ranging from twelve to six, and a grown-up +lady in a spare brown stuff dress and spectacles.</p> + +<p>As we entered she came quickly forward and shook Nurse by the hand.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Mrs. Bundle? Very glad to see you again, Mrs. Bundle."</p> + +<p>Nurse Bundle shook hands first, and curtsied afterwards.</p> + +<p>"I'm very well, thank you, ma'am, and hope you're the same. Master +Reginald Dacre, ma'am. This lady is Miss Blomfield, Master Reginald; +and I hope you'll behave properly, and give the lady no trouble."</p> + +<p>"I'm the governess, my dear," said Miss Blomfield, emphatically. (She +always "made a point" of announcing her dependent position to +strangers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> "It is best to avoid any awkwardness," she was wont to +say; and I saw glances and smiles exchanged on this occasion between +the girls.) Miss Blomfield was very kind to me. Indeed she was kind to +every one. Her other peculiarities were conscientiousness and the +fidgets, and tendencies to fine crochet, calomel, and Calvinism, and +an abiding quality of harassing and being harassed, which I may here +say is, I am convinced, a common and most unfortunate atmosphere of +much of the process of education for girls of the upper and middle +classes in England.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pic_3" id="pic_3"></a> +<img src="images/image_034.jpg" alt=""Bless me, there's that dog!" " width="500" height="827" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"Bless me, there's that dog!"</span></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> + +<p>At this moment my aunt came in.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Miss Blomfield."</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Mrs. Ascott," the governess hastily interposed. "I hope +you're well this morning."</p> + +<p>"Good morning, girls. Good morning, Nurse. How do you, Regie? All +right this morning? Bless me, there's that dog! What an extraordinary +affair it is! Mr. Ascott says he shall send it to the 'Gentleman's +Magazine.' Well, he can't be sent back now, so I suppose he'll have to +stop. And you must keep him out of mischief, Regie. Remember, he's not +to come into the drawing-room. Mrs. Bundle, will you see to that? Miss +Blomfield, will you kindly speak to Signor Rigi when he comes +to-morrow—"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Mrs. Ascott," interposed the governess.</p> + +<p>"—about that piece of Maria's? She doesn't seem to get on with it a +bit."</p> + +<p>"No, Mrs. Ascott."</p> + +<p>"And I'm sure she's been practising it for a long time."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mrs. Ascott."</p> + + + +<p>"Mr. Ascott says it makes his hand quite unsteady when he's shaving in +the morning, to hear her always break off at one place."</p> + +<p>The lines of harass on Miss Blomfield's countenance deepened visibly, +and her crochet-needle trembled in her hand, whilst a despondent +stolidity settled on Maria's face.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Mrs. Ascott. I'm very glad you've spoken. Thank you for +mentioning it, Mrs. Ascott. It has distressed me very greatly, and +been a great trouble on my mind for some time. I spoke very seriously +to Maria last Sabbath on the subject" (symptoms of sniffling on poor +Maria's part). "I believe she wishes to do her duty, and I may say I +am anxious to do mine, in my position. Of course, Mrs. Ascott, I know +you've a right to expect an improvement, and I shall be most happy to +rise half an hour earlier, so as to give her a longer practice than +the other young ladies, and only consider it my duty as your +governess, Mrs. Ascott. I've felt it a great trouble, for I cannot +imagine how it is that Maria does not improve in her music as Jane +does, and I give them equal attention exactly; and what makes it more +singular still is that Maria is very good at her sums—I have no fault +to find whatever. But I regret to say it is not the case with Jane. I +told her on Wednesday that I did not wish to make any complaint; but I +feel it a duty, Mrs. Ascott, to let you know that her marks for +arithmetic are not what you have a right to expect."</p> + +<p>Here Miss Blomfield paused and wiped her eyes. Not that she was +weeping, but over and above her short-sightedness she was troubled +with a dimness of vision, which afflicted her more at some times than +others. As she was in the habit of endeavour<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>ing to counteract the +evils of a too constantly laborious and sedentary life, and of an +anxious and desponding temperament, by large doses of calomel, her +malady increased with painfully rapid strides. On this particular +morning she had been busy since five o'clock, and neither she nor the +girls (who rose at six) had had anything to eat, and they were all +somewhat faint for want of a breakfast which was cooling on the table. +Meanwhile a "humming in the head," to which <i>she</i> was subject, +rendered Maria mercifully indifferent to the proposal to add an extra +half-hour to her distasteful labours; and Miss Blomfield corrugated +her eyebrows, and was conscientiously distressed and really puzzled +that Mother Nature should give different gifts to her children, when +their mother and teachers according to the flesh were so particular to +afford them an equality of "advantages."</p> + +<p>"Signor Rigi told me that Maria has not got so good an ear as Jane," +said Mrs. Ascott. "However, perhaps it will be well to let Maria +practise half an hour, and Jane do half an hour at her arithmetic on +Saturday afternoons."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Mrs. Ascott."</p> + +<p>"And now," said my aunt, "I must introduce the girls to Reginald. This +is Maria, your eldest cousin, and nearly double your age, for she is +twelve. This is Jane, two years younger. This is Helen; she is nine, +and as tall as Jane, you see. This is Harriet, eight. And this is +Mary—Polly, as papa calls her—and she is nineteen months younger +than you, and a terrible tomboy already; so don't make her worse. This +is your cousin, girls, Reginald Dacre. You must amuse him among you, +and don't tease him, for he is not used to children."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> + +<p>We "shook hands" all round, and I liked Polly's hand the best. It was +least froggy, cold, and spiritless.</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Ascott departed, and Maria (overpowered by the humming) +"flopped" into her chair after a fashion that would certainly have +drawn a rebuke from Miss Blomfield if an access of eye-dimness had not +carried her to her own seat with little more grace.</p> + +<p>Uncle Ascott had a large nose, and my cousins were the image of him +and of each other. They were plain, lady-like, rather bouncing girls, +with aquiline noses, voices with a family <i>twang</i> that was slightly +nasal, long feet terribly given to chilblains, and long fingers, with +which they all by turns practised the same exercises on the old piano +on successive mornings before breakfast. When we became more intimate, +I used to keep watch on the clock for the benefit of the one who was +practising. At half-past eight she was released, and shutting up the +book with a bang would scamper off, in summer to stretch herself, and +in winter to warm her hands and toes. I used to watch their fingers +with childish awe, wondering how such thin pieces of flesh and bone +hit such hard blows to the notes without cracking, and being also +somewhat puzzled by the run of good luck which seemed to direct their +weak and random-looking skips and jumps to the keys at which they were +aimed. I have seen them in tears over their "music," as it was called, +but they were generally persevering, and in winter (so I afterwards +discovered) invariably blue.</p> + +<p>It was not till we had finished breakfast that Miss Blomfield became +fairly conscious of the presence of Rubens, and when she did so her +alarm was very great.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> + +<p>Considering what she suffered from her own proper and peculiar +worries, it seemed melancholy to have to add to her burdens the hourly +expectation of an outbreak of hydrophobia.</p> + +<p>In vain I testified to the sweetness of Rubens' temper. It is +undeniable that dogs do sometimes bite when you least expect it, and +that some bites end in hydrophobia; and it was long before Miss +Blomfield became reconciled to this new inmate of the school-room.</p> + +<p>The girls, on the contrary, were delighted with my dog; and it was on +this ground that we became friendly. My particular affection for Polly +was also probably due to the discovery that with an incomparably +stolid expression of countenance she was passing highly buttered +pieces of bread under the table to Rubens at breakfast.</p> + +<p>Polly was my chief companion. The other girls were good-natured, but +they were constantly occupied in the school-room, and hours that were +not nominally "lesson time" were given to preparing tasks for the next +day. By a great and very unusual concession, Polly's lessons were +shortened that she might bear me company. For the day or two before +this was decided on I had been very lonely, and Cousin Polly's holiday +brought much satisfaction both to me and to her; but it filled poor +Miss Blomfield's mind with disquietude, scruples, and misgivings.</p> + +<p>In the middle of the square where my uncle and aunt lived there was a +garden, with trees, and grass, and gravel-walks; and here Polly and I +played at hide and seek, and ran races, and chased each other and +Rubens.</p> + +<p>The garden was free to all dwellers in the square, and several other +children besides ourselves were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> wont to play there. One day as I was +strolling about, a little boy whom I had not seen before came down the +walk and crossed the grass. He seemed to be a year or two older than +myself, and caught my eye immediately by his remarkable beauty, and by +the depth of the mourning which he wore. His features were exquisitely +cut, and, in a child, one was not disposed to complain of their +effeminacy. His long fair hair was combed—in royal fashion—down his +back, a style at that time most unusual; his tightly-fitting jacket +and breeches were black, bordered with deep crape; not even a white +collar relieved his sombre attire, from which his fair face shone out +doubly fair by contrast.</p> + +<p>"Polly! Polly!" I cried, running to find my companion and guide, "who +is that beautiful boy in black?"</p> + +<p>"That's little Sir Lionel Damer," said Polly. "Good-morning, Leo!" and +she nodded as he passed.</p> + +<p>The boy just touched his hat, bent his head with a melancholy and yet +half-comical dignity, and walked on.</p> + +<p>"Who's he in mourning for?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"His father and mother," said Polly. "They were drowned together, and +now he is Sir Lionel."</p> + +<p>I looked after him with sudden and intense sympathy. His mother and +his father too! This indeed was sorrow deeper than mine. Surely his +mother, like mine, must have been fair and beautiful, so much beauty +and fairness had descended to him.</p> + +<p>"Has he any sisters, Polly?" I asked.</p> + +<p>Polly shook her head. "I don't think he has anybody," said she.</p> + +<p>Then he also was an only son!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>THE LITTLE BARONET—DOLLS—CINDER PARCELS—THE OLD GENTLEMAN NEXT DOOR—THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS</h3> + + +<p>The next time I saw Sir Lionel was about two days afterwards, in the +afternoon, when the elder girls had gone for a drive in the carriage +with Aunt Maria, and the others, with myself, were playing in the +garden; Miss Blomfield being seated on a camp-stool reading a terrible +article on "Rabies" in the Medical Dictionary.</p> + +<p>Rubens and I had strolled away from the rest, and I was exercising him +in some of his tricks when the little baronet passed us with his +accustomed air of mingled melancholy, dignity, and self-consciousness. +I was a good deal fascinated by him. Beauty has a strong attraction +for children, and the depth of his weeds invested him with a +melancholy interest, which has also great charms for the young. Then, +to crown all, he mourned the loss of a young mother—and so did I. I +involuntarily showed off Rubens as he approached, and he lingered and +watched us. By a sort of impulse I took off my little hat, as I had +been taught to do to strangers. He lifted his with a dismal grace and +moved on.</p> + +<p>But as he walked about I could see that he kept looking to where +Rubens and I played upon the grass, and at last he came and sat down +near us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is that your dog?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes he's my dog," I answered.</p> + +<p>"He seems very clever," said Sir Lionel. "Did you teach him all those +tricks yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Very nearly all," said I. "Rubens, shake hands with Sir Lionel."</p> + +<p>"How do you know my name?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Polly told me," said I.</p> + +<p>"Do you know Polly?" Sir Lionel inquired.</p> + +<p>I stared, forgetting that of course he did not know who I was, and +answered—</p> + +<p>"She's my cousin."</p> + +<p>"What's your name?" he asked.</p> + +<p>I told him.</p> + +<p>"Do you like Polly?" he continued.</p> + +<p>"Very much," I said, warmly.</p> + +<p>It was with a ludicrous imitation of some grown-up person's manner +that he added, in perfect gravity—</p> + +<p>"I hope you are not in love with her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear no!" I cried, hastily, for I had had enough of that joke +with Miss Eliza Burton.</p> + +<p>"Then that is all right," said the little baronet; "let us be +friends." And friends we became. "Call me Leo, and I'll call you +Reginald," said the little gentleman; and so it was.</p> + +<p>I think it is not doing myself more than justice if I say that to +this, my first friendship, I was faithful and devoted. Leo, for his +part, was always affectionate, and he had an admiration for Rubens +which went a long way with Rubens' master. But he was a little spoiled +and capricious, and, like many people of rather small capacities +(whether young or old), he was often unintentionally inconsiderate. In +those days my affection waited willingly upon his; but I know now that +in a quiet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> amiable way he was selfish. I was blessed myself with an +easy temper, and at that time it had ample opportunities of +accommodating itself to the whims of my friend Leo and my cousin +Polly. Not that Polly was like Sir Lionel in any way whatever. But she +was quick-tempered and resolute. She was much more clever for her age +than I was for mine. She was very decided and rapid in her views and +proceedings, very generous and affectionate also, and not at all +selfish. But her qualities and those of Leo came to the same thing as +far as I was concerned. I invariably yielded to them both.</p> + +<p>Between themselves, I may say, they squabbled systematically, and were +never either friends or enemies for two days together.</p> + +<p>Polly and I never quarrelled. I did her behests manfully, as a general +rule; and if her sway became intolerable, I complained and bewailed, +on which she relented, being as easily moved to pity as to wrath.</p> + +<p>As the weather grew more chill, we seldom went out except in the +morning. In the afternoon Polly and I (sometimes accompanied by Leo) +played in the nursery at the top of the house.</p> + +<p>Now and then the other girls would come up, and "play at dolls" with +Polly. On these occasions the treatment I experienced was certainly +hard. They were soon absorbed in dressing and undressing, sham meals, +sham lessons, and all the domestic romance of doll-life, in which, +according to my poor abilities, I should have been most happy to have +taken a part. But, on the unwarrantable assumption that "boys could +not play at dolls," the only part assigned me in the puppet comedy was +to take the dolls' dirty clothes to and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> from an imaginary wash in a +miniature wheelbarrow. I did for some time assume the character of +dolls' medical man with considerable success; but having vaccinated +the kid arm of one of my patients too deeply on a certain occasion +with a big pin, she suffered so severely from loss of bran that I was +voted a practitioner of the old school, and dismissed. I need hardly +say that this harsh decision proved the ruin of my professional +prospects, and I was sent back to my wheelbarrow. It was when we were +tired of our ordinary amusements, during a week of wet weather, that +Polly and I devised a new piece of fun to enliven the monotony of the +hours when we were shut up in that town nursery at the top of the +house.</p> + +<p>Outside the nursery-windows were iron bars—a sensible precaution of +Aunt Maria against accidents to "the little ones." One day when the +window was slightly open, and Polly and I were hanging on the +window-ledge, in attitudes that fully justified the precautionary +measure of a grating, a bit of paper which was rolled up in Polly's +hand escaped from her grasp, and floated down into the street. In a +moment Polly and I were standing on the window-ledge, peering down—to +the best of our ability—into the square and into the area depths +below. Like a snow-flake in summer, we saw our paper-twist lying on +the pavement; but our delight rose to ecstasy when a portly passer-by +stooped and picked up the document and carefully examined it.</p> + +<p>Out of this incident arose a systematic amusement, which, in advance +of our age, we called "the parcel post."</p> + +<p>By shoving aside the fire-guard in the absence of our nurses, we +obtained some cinders, with which we repaired to our post at the +window, thus illus<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>trating that natural proclivity of children to +places of danger which is the bane of parents and guardians. Here we +fastened up little fragments of cinder in pieces of writing-paper, and +having secured them tidily with string, we dropped these parcels +through the iron bars as into a post-office. It was a breathless +moment when they fell through space like shooting stars. It was a +triumph if they cleared the area. But the aim and the end of our +labours was to see one of our missives attract the notice of a +passer-by, then excite his curiosity, and finally—if he opened +it—rouse his unspeakable disgust and disappointment.</p> + +<p>Like other tricksters, our game lasted long because of the ever-green +credulity of our "public." In the ever-fresh stream of human life +which daily flowed beneath our windows, there were sure to be one or +more pedestrians who, with varying expressions of conscientious +responsibility, unprincipled appropriation, or mere curiosity, would +open our parcels, either to ascertain what trinket should be restored +to its owner, or to keep what was to be got, or to see what there was +to be seen.</p> + +<p>One day when we dropped one of our parcels at the feet of a lady who +was going by, she nonplussed us very effectually by ringing the bell +and handing in to the footman "something which had been accidentally +dropped from one of the upper windows." Fortunately for us the parcel +did not reach Aunt Maria; Polly intercepted it.</p> + +<p>As the passers-by never wearied of our parcels, I do not know when we +should have got tired of our share of the fun, but for an occurrence +which brought the amusement suddenly to an end. One afternoon we had +made up the neatest of little white-paper parcels, worthy of having +come from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> a jeweller's, and I clambered on to the window-seat that I +might drop it successfully (and quite clear of the area) into the +street. Just as I dropped it, there passed an elderly gentleman very +precisely dressed, with a gold-headed cane, and a very well-brushed +hat. Pop! I let the cinder parcel fall on to his beaver, from which it +rebounded to his feet. The old gentleman looked quickly up, our eyes +met, and I felt convinced that he saw that I had thrown it. I called +Polly, and as she reached my side the old gentleman untied and +examined the parcel. When he came to the cinder, he looked up once +more, and Polly jumped from the window with a prolonged "Oh!"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" cried Polly; "it's the old gentleman next door!"</p> + +<p>For several days we lived in unenviable suspense. Every morning did we +expect to be summoned from the school-room to be scolded by Aunt +Maria. Every afternoon we dreaded the arrival of "the old gentleman +next door" to make his formal complaint, and, whenever the front-door +bell rang, Polly and I literally "shook in our shoes."</p> + +<p>But several days passed, and we heard nothing of it. We had given up +the practice in our fright, but had some thoughts of beginning again, +as no harm had come to us.</p> + +<p>One evening (by an odd coincidence, my birthday was on the morrow) as +Polly and I were putting away our playthings preparatory to being +dressed to go down to dessert, a large brown-paper parcel was brought +into the nursery addressed jointly to me and my cousin.</p> + +<p>"It's a birthday present for you, Regie!" Polly cried.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But there's your name on it, Polly," said I.</p> + +<p>"It must be a mistake," said Polly. But she looked very much pleased, +nevertheless; and so, I have no doubt, did I. We cut the string, we +tore off the first thick covering. The present, whatever it might be, +was securely wrapped a second time in finer brown paper and carefully +tied.</p> + +<p>"It's <i>very</i> carefully done up," said I, cutting the second string.</p> + +<p>"It must be something nice," said Polly, decisively; "that's why it's +taken such care of."</p> + +<p>If Polly's reasoning were just, it must have been something very nice +indeed, for under the second wrapper was a third, and under the third +was a fourth, and under the fourth was a fifth, and under the fifth +was a sixth, and under the sixth was a seventh. We were just on the +point of giving it up in despair when we came to a box. With some +difficulty we got the lid open, and took out one or two folds of +paper. Then there was a lot of soft shavings, such as brittle toys and +gimcracks are often packed in, and among the shavings was—a small +neatly-folded white-paper parcel. <i>And inside the parcel was a +cinder.</i></p> + +<p>We certainly looked very foolish as we stood before our present. I do +not think any of the people we had taken in had looked so thoroughly +and completely so. We were both on the eve of crying, and both ended +by laughing. Then Polly—in those trenchant tones which recalled Aunt +Maria forcibly to one's mind—said,</p> + +<p>"Well! we quite deserve it."</p> + +<p>The "parcel-post" was discontinued.</p> + +<p>We had no doubt as to who had played us this trick. It was the old +gentleman next door. He was a wealthy, benevolent, and rather +eccentric old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> bachelor. It was his custom to take an early walk for +the good of his health in the garden of the square, and he sometimes +took an evening stroll in the same place for pleasure. Somehow or +other he had made a speaking acquaintance with Miss Blomfield, and we +afterwards discovered that he had made all needful inquiries as to the +names, etc., of Polly and myself from her—she, however, being quite +innocent as to the drift of his questions.</p> + +<p>I should certainly not have selected the old gentleman's hat to drop +our best parcel on to, if I had known who he was. I was not likely to +forget his face now.</p> + +<p>I soon got to know all our neighbours by sight. On one side of us was +the old gentleman, whose name was Bartram; on the other side lived Sir +Lionel Damer. He was staying with his guardian, an old Colonel +Sinclair; and when my father came up to town he and this Colonel +Sinclair discovered that they were old school-fellows, which Leo and I +looked upon as a good omen for our friendship.</p> + +<p>Polly and I and Nurse Bundle became as learned in gossip as any one +else who lives in a town, and is constantly looking out of the window. +We knew the (bird's-eye) appearance of everybody on our side of the +square, their servants, their cats and dogs, their carriages, and even +their tradesmen. If one of the neighbours changed his milkman, or +there came so much as a new muffin man to the square, we were all +agog. One day I saw Polly upon our perch, struggling to get her face +close to the glass, and much hindered by the size of her nose. I felt +sure that there was <i>something</i> down below—at least a new butcher's +boy. So I was not surprised when she called me to "come and look."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who is it?" said Polly.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said I.</p> + +<p>And then we both stared on, as if by downright hard looking we could +discover the name of the gentleman who had just come down the steps +from Colonel Sinclair's house. He was a short slight man, young, and +with sandy hair. Neither of us had seen him before. Having the good +fortune to see him return to Colonel Sinclair's house, about two hours +later, I hurried with the news to Polly; and we resolved to get to see +Leo as soon as possible, and satisfy our curiosity respecting the +stranger. So in the afternoon we sent a message to invite him to come +and play with us in the square, but we received the answer that "Sir +Lionel was engaged."</p> + +<p>Later on he came into the square, and the stranger with him. Polly and +I and Rubens were together on a seat; but when Leo saw us he gave a +scanty nod and went off in the opposite direction, leaning on the arm +of the stranger and apparently absorbed in talking to him. I was +rather hurt by his neglect of us. But Polly said positively,</p> + +<p>"That is Leo's way. He likes new friends. But when he treats me like +that, I do not speak to him for a week afterwards."</p> + +<p>That evening a cab carried off the stranger, and next day Leo came to +us in the square, all smiles and friendliness.</p> + +<p>"I've been so wanting to see you!" he cried, in the most devoted +tones. But Polly only took up her doll, and with her impressive nose +in the air, walked off to the house.</p> + +<p>I could not quarrel with Leo myself, and we were soon as friendly as +ever.</p> + +<p>"I want to tell you some news, Regie," he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> "Colonel Sinclair has +decided that I am to have a tutor."</p> + +<p>"Are you glad?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, very," said Sir Lionel. "You see I like him very much—I mean +the tutor. He was here yesterday. You saw him with me. He is going to +be a clergyman. He has been at Cambridge, and he plays the flute."</p> + +<p>For a long time Leo enlarged to me upon the merits of his tutor that +was to be; and when I went back to Polly the news I had to impart +served to atone for my not having joined her in snubbing the +capricious Sir Lionel. As for him, he was very restless under Polly's +displeasure, and finally apologized, on which Polly gave him a sound +scolding, which, to my surprise, he took in the utmost good part, and +we were all once more the best possible friends.</p> + +<p>That visit to London was an era in my life. It certainly was most +enjoyable, and it did me a world of good, body and mind. When my +father came up, we enjoyed it still more. He coaxed holidays for the +girls even out of Aunt Maria, and took us (Leo and all) to places of +amusement. With him we went to the Zoological Gardens. The monkeys +attracted me indescribably, and I seriously proposed to my father to +adopt one or two of them as brothers for me. I felt convinced that if +they were properly dressed and taught they would be quite +companionable, and I said so, to my father's great amusement, and to +the scandal of Nurse Bundle, who was with us.</p> + +<p>"I fear you would never teach them to talk, Regie," said my father; +"and a friend who could neither speak to you nor understand you when +you spoke to him would be a very poor companion,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> even if he could +dance on the top of a barrel-organ and crack hard nuts."</p> + +<p>"But, papa, babies can't talk at first," said I; "they have to be +taught."</p> + +<p>Now by good luck for my argument there stood near us a country woman +with a child in her arms to whom she was holding out a biscuit, +repeating as she did so, "Ta!" in that expectant tone which is +supposed to encourage childish efforts to pronounce the abbreviated +form of thanks.</p> + +<p>"Now look, papa!" I cried, "that's the way I should teach a monkey. If +I were to hold out a bit of cake to him, and say, 'Ta,'"—(and as I +spoke I did so to a highly intelligent little gentleman who sat close +to the bars of the cage with his eyes on my face, as if he were well +aware that a question of deep importance to himself was being +discussed)—</p> + +<p>"He would probably snatch it out of your hand without further +ceremony," said my father. And, dashing his skinny fingers through the +bars, this was, I regret to say, precisely what the little gentleman +did. I was quite taken aback; but as we turned round, to my infinite +delight, the undutiful baby snatched the biscuit from its mother's +hand after a fashion so remarkably similar that we all burst out +laughing, and I shouted in triumph,</p> + +<p>"Now, papa! children do it too."</p> + +<p>"Well, Regie," he answered, "I think you have made out a good case. +But the question which now remains is, whether Mrs. Bundle will have +your young friends in the nursery."</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Bundle's horror at my remarks was too great to admit of her +even entering into the joke.</p> + +<p>The monkeys were somewhat driven from my mind by the wit and wisdom of +the elephant, and the condescension displayed by so large an animal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +in accepting the light refreshment of penny buns. After he had had +several, Leo began to tease him, holding out a bun and snatching it +away again. As he was holding it out for the fourth or fifth time, the +elephant extended his trunk as usual, but instead of directing it +towards the bun, he deliberately snatched the black velvet cap from +Leo's head and swallowed it with a grunt of displeasure. Leo was first +frightened, and then a good deal annoyed by the universal roar of +laughter which his misfortune occasioned. But he was a good-tempered +boy, and soon joined in the laugh himself. Then, as we could not buy +him a new cap in the Gardens, he was obliged to walk about for the +rest of the time bare-headed; and many were the people who turned +round to look a second time after the beautiful boy with the long fair +hair—a fact of which Master Lionel was not quite unconscious, I +think.</p> + +<p>My aunt kindly pressed us to remain with her over Christmas. I longed +to see the pantomime, having heard much from my cousins and from Leo +of its delights—and of the harlequin, columbine, and clown. But my +father wanted to be at home again, and he took me and Rubens and Nurse +Bundle with him at the end of November.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>POLLY AND I RESOLVE TO BE "VERY RELIGIOUS"—DR. PEPJOHN—THE ALMS-BOX—THE BLIND BEGGAR</h3> + + +<p>I must not forget to speak of an incident which had a considerable +influence on my character at this time. The church which my uncle and +his family "attended," as it was called, was one of those most dreary +places of worship too common at that time, in London and elsewhere. It +was ugly outside, but the outside ugliness was as nothing compared +with the ugliness within. The windows were long and bluntly rounded at +the top, and the sunlight was modified by scanty calico blinds, which, +being yellow with age and smoke, <i>toned</i> the light in rather an +agreeable manner. Mouldings of a pattern one sees about common +fireplaces ran everywhere with praiseworthy impartiality. But the +great principle of the ornamental work throughout was a principle only +too prevalent at the date when this particular church was last "done +up." It was imitations of things not really there, and which would +have been quite out of place if they had been there. For instance, +pillars and looped-up curtains painted on flat walls, with pretentious +shadows, having no reference to the real direction of the light. At +the east end some Hebrew letters, executed as journeymen painters +usually do execute them, had a less cheerful look than the +highly-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>coloured lion and unicorn on the gallery in front. The clerk's +box, the reading-desk, and the pulpit, piled one above another, had a +symmetrical effect, to which the umbrella-shaped sounding-board above +gave a distant resemblance to a Chinese pagoda. The only things which +gave warmth or colour to the interior as a whole were the cushions and +pew curtains. There were plenty of them, and they were mostly red. +These same curtains added to the sense of isolation, which was already +sufficiently attained by the height of the pew walls and their doors +and bolts. I think it was this—and the fact that, as the congregation +took no outward part in the prayers except that of listening to them, +Polly and I had nothing to do—and we could not even hear the old +gentleman who usually "read prayers"—which led us into the very +reprehensible habit of "playing at houses" in Uncle Ascott's +gorgeously furnished pew. Not that we left our too tightly stuffed +seats for one moment, but as we sat or stood, unable to see anything +beyond the bombazine curtains (which, intervening between us and the +distant parson, made our hearing what he said next to impossible), we +amused ourselves by mentally "pretending" a good deal of domestic +drama, in which the pew represented a house; and we related our +respective "plays" to each other afterwards when we went home.</p> + +<p>Wrong as it was, we did not intend to be irreverent, though I had the +grace to feel slightly shocked when after a cheerfully lighted evening +service, at which the claims of a missionary society had been +enforced, Polly confided to me, with some triumph in her tone, "I +pretended a theatre, and when the man was going round with the box +upstairs, I pretended it was oranges in the gallery."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>I had more than once felt uneasy at our proceedings, and I now told +Polly that I thought it was not right, and that we ought to "try to +attend." I rather expected her to resent my advice, but she said that +she had "sometimes thought it was wrong" herself; and we resolved to +behave better for the future, and indeed really did give up our +unseasonable game.</p> + +<p>Few religious experiences fill one with more shame and self-reproach +than the large results from very small efforts in the right direction. +Polly and I prospered in our efforts to "attend." I may say for myself +that, child as I was, I began to find a satisfaction and pleasure in +going to church, though the place was hideous, the ritual dreary, and +the minister mumbling. When by chance there was a nice hymn, such as, +"Glory to Thee," or "<span class="smcap">O God</span>, our help in ages past," we were quite +happy. We also tried manfully to "attend" to the sermons, which, +considering the length and abstruseness of them, was, I think, +creditable to us. I fear we felt it to be so, and that about this time +we began to be proud of the texts we knew, and of our punctilious +propriety in the family pew, and of the resolve which we had taken in +accordance with my proposal to Polly—</p> + +<p>"Let us be very religious."</p> + +<p>One Saturday Miss Blomfield was a good deal excited about a certain +clergyman who was to preach in our church next Sunday, and as the +services were now a matter of interest to us, Polly and I were excited +too. I had been troubled with toothache all the week, but this was now +better, and I was quite able to go to church with the rest of the +family.</p> + +<p>The general drift of the sermon, even its text,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> have long since faded +from my mind; but I do remember that it contained so highly coloured a +peroration on the Day of Judgment and the terrors of Hell, that my +horror and distress knew no bounds; and when the sermon was ended, and +we began to sing, "From lowest depths of woe," I burst into a passion +of weeping. The remarkable part of the incident was that, the rest of +the party having sat with their noses in the air quite undistressed by +the terrible eloquence of the preacher, Aunt Maria never for a moment +guessed at the real cause of my tears. But as soon as we were all in +the carriage (it was a rainy evening, and we had driven to church), +she said—</p> + +<p>"That poor child will never have a minute's peace while that tooth's +in his head. Thomas! Drive to Dr. Pepjohn's."</p> + +<p>Polly did say, "Is it very bad, Regie?" But Aunt Maria answered for +me—"Can't you see it's bad, child? Leave him alone."</p> + +<p>I was ashamed to confess the real cause of my outburst, and suffered +for my disingenuousness in Dr. Pepjohn's consulting-room.</p> + +<p>"Show Dr. Pepjohn which it is, Regie," said my aunt; and, with tears +that had now become simply hysterical, I pointed to the tooth that had +ached.</p> + +<p>"Just allow me to touch it," said Dr. Pepjohn, inserting his fat +finger and thumb into my mouth. "I won't hurt you, my little man," he +added, with the affable mendaciousness of his craft. Fortunately for +me it was rather loose, and a couple of hard wrenches from the +doctor's expert fingers brought it out.</p> + +<p>"You think me very cruel, now, don't you, my little man?" said the +jocose gentleman, as we were taking leave.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't think you're cruel," I answered, candidly; "but I think you +tell fibs, for it <i>did</i> hurt."</p> + +<p>The doctor laughed long and loudly, and said I was quite an original, +which puzzled me extremely. Then he gave me sixpence, with which I was +much pleased, and we parted good friends.</p> + +<p>My father was with us on the following Sunday, and he did not go to +the church Aunt Maria went to. I went to the one to which he went. +This church was very well built and appropriately decorated. The music +was good, the responses of the congregation hearty, and the service +altogether was much better adapted to awaken and sustain the interest +of a child than those I had hitherto been to in London.</p> + +<p>"You know we <i>couldn't</i> play houses in the church where Papa goes," I +told Polly on my return, and I was very anxious that she should go +with us to the evening service. She did go, but I am bound to confess +that she decided on a loyal preference for the service to which she +had been accustomed, and, like sensible people, we agreed to differ in +our tastes.</p> + +<p>"There's no clerk at your church, you know," said Polly, to whom a gap +in the threefold ministry of clerk, reader, and preacher, symbolized +by the "three-decker" pulpit, was ill atoned for by the chanting of +the choir.</p> + +<p>In quite a different way, I was as much impressed by the sermons at +the new church as I had been by that which cost me a tooth.</p> + +<p>One sermon especially upon the duties of visiting the sick and +imprisoned, feeding the hungry, and clothing the naked, made an +impression on me that years did not efface. I made the most earnest +resolutions to be active in deeds of kindness "when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> I was a man," +and, not being troubled by considerations of political economy, I +began my charitable career by dividing what pocket money I had in hand +amongst the street-sweepers and mendicants nearest to our square.</p> + +<p>I soon converted Polly to my way of thinking; and we put up a +money-box in the nursery, in imitation of the alms-box in church. I am +ashamed to confess that I was guilty of the meanness of changing a +sixpence which I had dedicated to our "charity-box" into twelve +half-pence, that I might have the satisfaction of making a dozen +distinct contributions to the fund.</p> + +<p>But, despite all its follies, vanities, and imperfections (and what +human efforts for good are not stained with folly, vanity, and +imperfection?), our benevolence was not without sincerity or +self-denial, and brought its own invariable reward of increased +willingness to do more; according to the deep wisdom of the poet—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In doing is this knowledge won:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see what yet remains undone."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>We really did forego many a toy and treat to add to our charitable +store; and I began then a habit of taxing what money I possessed, by +taking off a fixed proportion for "charity," which I have never +discontinued, and to the advantages of which I can most heartily +testify. When a self-indulgent civilization goads all classes to live +beyond their incomes, and tempts them not to include the duty of +almsgiving in the expenditure of those incomes, it is well to remove a +due proportion of what one has beyond the reach of the ever-growing +monster of extravagance; and, being decided upon in an unbiased and +calm moment, it is the less likely to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> be too much for one's domestic +claims, or too little for one's religious duty. It frees one for ever +from that grudging and often comical spasm of meanness which attacks +so many even wealthy people when they are asked to give, because, +among all the large "expenses" to which their goods are willingly made +liable, the expense of giving alms of those goods has never been +fairly counted as an item not less needful, not less imperative, not +less to be felt as a deduction from the remainder, not less life-long +and daily, than the expenses of rent, and dress, and dinner-parties.</p> + +<p>We had, as I say, no knowledge of political economy, and it must be +confessed that the objects of our charity were on more than one +occasion most unworthy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Regie, dear," Polly cried one day, rushing up to me as she +returned from a walk (I had a cold, and was in the nursery), "there is +such a poor, poor man at the corner of —— Street. I do think we ought +to give him all that's left in the box. He's quite blind, and he reads +out of a book with such queer letters. It's one of the Gospels, he +says; so he must be very good, for he reads it all day long. And he +can't have any home, for he sits in the street. And he's got a ticket +on his back to say 'Blind,' and 'Taught at the Blind School.' And as I +passed he was reading quite loud. And I heard him say, 'Now Barabbas +was a robber.' Oh, he <i>is</i> such a poor man! And you know, Regie, he +<i>must</i> be good, for <i>we</i> don't sit reading our Bibles all day long."</p> + +<p>I at once gave my consent to the box being emptied in favour of this +very poor and very pious man; and at the first opportunity Polly took +the money to her <i>protégé</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He was so much pleased!" she reported on her return. "He seemed quite +surprised to get so much. And he said, '<span class="smcap">God</span> bless you, miss!' I wish +you'd been there, Regie. I said, 'It's not all from me.' He <i>was</i> so +much pleased!"</p> + +<p>"How did he know you were a <i>miss</i>, I wonder?" said I.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it was my voice," said Polly, after a pause.</p> + +<p>As soon as I could go out, I went to see the blind man. As I drew +near, he was—as Polly told me—reading aloud. The regularity and +rapidity with which his fingers ran over line after line, as if he +were rubbing out something on a slate, were most striking; and as I +stood beside him I distinctly heard him read the verse, "Now Barabbas +was a robber." It was a startling coincidence to find him still +reading the words which Polly overheard, especially as they were not +in any way remarkably adapted for the subject of a prolonged +meditation.</p> + +<p>Much living alone with grown-up people had, I think, helped towards my +acquiring a habit I had of "brown studying," turning things over, +brewing them, so to speak, in my mind. I stood pondering the +peculiarities of the object of our charity for some moments, during +which he was elaborately occupied in turning over a leaf of his book. +Presently I said—</p> + +<p>"What makes you say it out loud when you read?"</p> + +<p>He turned his head towards me, blinking and rolling his eyes, and +replied in impressive tones—</p> + +<p>"It's the pleasure I takes in it, sir."</p> + +<p>Now as he blinked I watched his eyes with mingled terror, pity, and +curiosity. At this moment a stout and charitable-looking old +gentle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>man was passing, between whom and my blind friend I was +standing. And as he passed he threw the blind man some coppers. But in +the moment before he did so, and when there seemed a possibility of +his passing without what I suspect was a customary dole, such a sharp +expression came into the scarcely visible pupils of the blind man's +half-shut eyes that (never suspecting that his blindness was feigned, +but for the moment convinced that he had seen the old gentleman) I +exclaimed, without thinking of the absurdity of my inquiry—</p> + +<p>"Was it at the Blind School you learnt to see so well with your blind +eyes?"</p> + +<p>The "very poor man" gave me a most unpleasant glance out of his +"sightless orbs," and taking up his stool, and muttering something +about its being time to go home, he departed.</p> + +<p>Some time afterwards I learnt what led me to believe that he had the +best possible reason for being able to "see so well with his blind +eyes." He was not blind at all.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>VISITING THE SICK</h3> + + +<p>I had been quite prepared to find Polly a willing convert to my +charitable schemes, but I had not expected to find in Cousin Helen so +strong an ally as she proved. But our ideas were no novelty to her, as +we soon discovered. In truth, at nine years old, she was a bit of an +enthusiast. She read with avidity religious biographies furnished by +Miss Blomfield. She was delicate in health, but reticent and resolute +in character. She was ready for any amount of self-sacrifice. She +contributed liberally to our box; and I fancy that she and Polly +continued it after I had gone back to Dacrefield.</p> + +<p>My new ideas were not laid aside on my return home. To the best of my +ability I had given Nurse Bundle an epitome of the sermon on +alms—deeds which had so taken my fancy, and I have reason to believe +that she was very proud of my precocious benevolence. Whilst the +subject was under discussion betwixt us, she related many anecdotes of +the good deeds of the "young gentlemen and ladies" in a certain +clergyman's family where she had lived as nursemaid in her younger +days; and my imagination was fired by dreams of soup-cans, coal-clubs, +linsey petticoats comforting the rheumatic limbs of aged women, +opportune blankets in winter, Sunday-school classes, etc., etc.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My dear!" said Nurse Bundle, almost with tears in her eyes, "you're +for all the world your dear mamma over again. Keep them notions, my +dear, when you're a grown gentleman, and there'll be a blessing on all +you do. For in all reason it's you that'll have to look to your pa's +property and tenants some time."</p> + +<p>My father, though not himself an adept in the details of what is +commonly called "parish work," was both liberal and kind-hearted. He +liked my knowing the names of his tenants, and taking an interest in +their families. He was well pleased to respond by substantial help +when Nurse Bundle and I pleaded for this sick woman or that unshod +child, as my mother had pleaded in old days. As for Nurse Bundle, she +had a code of virtues for "young ladies and gentlemen," as such, and +charity to the poor was among them. Though I confess that I think she +regarded it more in the light of a grace adorning a certain station, +than as a duty incumbent upon all men.</p> + +<p>So I came to know most of the villagers; and being a quaint child, +with a lively and amusing curiosity, which some little refinement and +good-breeding stayed from degenerating into impertinence, I was, I +believe, very popular.</p> + +<p>One afternoon, during the spring that followed our return from London, +I had strolled out with Rubens, and was bowling my hoop towards one of +the lodges when a poor woman passed by on the drive (which was a +public road through the park), her apron to her face, weeping +bitterly. I stopped her, and asked what was the matter, and finally +made out that she had been to some sale at a farmhouse near, where a +certain large blanket had "gone for" five shillings. That she had +scraped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> five shillings together, and had intended to bid for it, but +had (with eminent stupidity) managed just to be out of the way when +the blanket was sold; and that it had gone for the very sum she could +have afforded, to another woman who would only part with it for six +and sixpence—eighteenpence more than the price she had paid for it.</p> + +<p>The poor woman wept, and said she had had hard work to "raise" the +five shillings, and could not possibly find one and sixpence more. And +yet she did want the blanket badly, for she had a boy sick in bed, and +his throat was so bad—he suffered a deal from the cold, and there +wasn't a decent "rag of a blanket" in her house. I did not quite +follow her long story, but I gathered that one and sixpence would put +an end to her troubles, and at once offered to fetch her the money.</p> + +<p>"Where do you live?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"The white cottage just beyond the gate, love," she answered.</p> + +<p>"I will bring you the money," said I. For to say the truth, I was +rather pompous and important about my charitable deeds, and did not +dislike playing the part of Sir Bountiful in the cottages. In this +case, too, it was a kindness not to take the woman back to the hall, +for she had left the sick child alone; and when I arrived at the +cottage with the money he complained bitterly at the idea of her +leaving him again to get the blanket.</p> + +<p>"Let me go a minute, love, and I'll fetch Mrs. Taylor to sit with thee +till I get the blanket."</p> + +<p>"I don't want a blanket," fretted the child; "I be too hot as 'tis. I +don't want to be 'lone."</p> + +<p>"If you'll only be a minute, I'll stop with him," said I; and there +was some kindness in the offer, for I was really afraid of the boy +with his heavy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> angry eyes and fever petulance. The woman gladly +accepted it, and hurried off, despite the child's fretful tears, and +his refusing to see in "the young gentleman's" condescension the +honour which his mother pointed out. No doubt she only meant to be "a +minute," and Mrs. Taylor's dwelling was, to my knowledge, near; but I +suppose she had to tell, and her friends to hear, the whole history of +the sale, her disappointment and subsequent relief, as a preliminary +measure. After which it is probable that Mrs. Taylor had to look at +her pie in the oven, or attend to some similar and pressing domestic +duty before she could leave her house; and so it was nearly half an +hour before they came to my relief. And all this time the sick boy +tossed and moaned, and cried for water. I gave him some from a mug on +the table, not so much from any precocious gift for sick nursing (for +I was simply "frightened out of my wits"), but because the imperative +tone of his demand forced me involuntarily into doing what he wanted. +He grumbled, when between us we spilt the water on his clothes, and +then, soothed for a few seconds, he lay down, till the fever, like a +possessing demon, tossed him about once more, and his throat became as +parched as ever, and again he moaned for "a drink," and we repeated +the process. This time the mug was emptied, and when he called a third +time I could only say, "The mug's empty."</p> + +<p>"There's a pot behind the door," he muttered, impatiently; "look +sharp!"</p> + +<p>Now food, and drink, and all other necessaries of life came to me +without effort or seeking, and I was as little accustomed as any other +rich man's son to forage for supplies; but on this occasion +circumstances forced out of me a helpfulness which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> necessity early +teaches to the poor. I became dimly cognizant of the fact that water +does not spring spontaneously in carafes, nor take a delicate colour +and flavour in toast-and-water jugs of itself. I found the water-pot, +replenished the mug, and went back to my patient. By the time his +mother returned I had become quite clever in checking the spasmodic +clutches which spilt the cold water into his neck.</p> + +<p>From what Mrs. Taylor said to her friend, it was evident that she +disapproved in some way of my presence, and the boy's mother replied +to her whispered remonstrances, "I was <i>that</i> put out, I never +thought;" which I have no doubt was strictly true.</p> + +<p>As I afterwards learnt, she got the blanket, and never ceased to laud +my generosity.</p> + +<p>I was rather proud of it myself, and it was not without complacency +that I recounted to Nurse Bundle my first essay in "visiting the +sick."</p> + +<p>But complacency was the last feeling my narrative awoke in Mrs. +Bundle. She was alarmed out of all presence of mind; and her +indignation with the woman who had requited my kindness by allowing me +to go into a house infected with fever knew no bounds. She had no pity +to spare for her when the news reached us that the child was dead.</p> + +<p>Nothing further came of it for some time. Days passed, and it was +almost forgotten, only I became decidedly ill-tempered. A captious +irritability possessed me, alternating with fits of unaccountable +fatigue. At that time I was always either tired or cross, and +sometimes both. I must have made Nurse Bundle very uncomfortable. I +was so little happy, for my own share, that when after a day's +headache I was put to bed as an invalid, it was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> delicious relief to +be acknowledged to be ill, to throw off clothes and occupation, and +shut my eyes and be nursed.</p> + +<p>This happiness lasted for about half an hour. Then I began to shiver, +and, through no lack of blankets my teeth were soon chattering and the +bed shaking under me, as it had been with the village boy. But when +this was succeeded by burning heat, and intolerable, consuming +restlessness, I would have been glad to shiver again. And then my mind +wandered with a restlessness more intolerable than the tossing of my +body; and all boundaries of time, and place, and person became +confused and indefinitely extended, and hot hours were like ages, and +I thought I was that other boy, and that myself would not wait upon +him; and the only sensible words I spoke were cries for drink; and so +the fever got me fairly into its clutches.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>"PEACE BE TO THIS HOUSE"</h3> + + +<p>I can appreciate now what my father and Nurse Bundle must have +suffered during my dangerous illness. It was not a common tie that +bound my father's affections to my life. Not only was I his son, I was +his only son. Moreover, I was the only living child of the beloved +wife of his youth—all that remained to him of my fair mother. Then I +was the heir to his property, the hope of his family, and, without +undue egotism, I may say, from what I have been told, that I was a +quaint, original, and (thanks to Mrs. Bundle) not ill-behaved child, +and that, for a while at least, I should have been much missed in the +daily life of the household.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cadman told me, long afterwards, exactly how many days and nights +Nurse Bundle passed in my sick chamber, "and never had her clothes +off;" and if the wearing of clothes had been one of the sharpest +torments of the Inquisition, Mrs. Cadman could not have spoken in a +hollower tone, or thrown more gloom round the announcement.</p> + +<p>That, humanly speaking, my good and loving nurse saved my life, I must +ever remember with deep gratitude. There are stages of fever, when, as +they say, "a nurse is everything;" and a very little laziness, +selfishness, or inattention on Nurse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> Bundle's part would probably +have been my death-warrant. But night and day she never relaxed her +vigilance for one instant of the crisis of my malady. She took nothing +for granted, would trust no one else, but herself saw every order of +the doctor carried out, and, at a certain stage, fed me every ten +minutes, against my will, coaxing me to obedience, and never losing +heart or temper for one instant. And this although my petulance and +not infrequent assurances that I wished and preferred to die—"I was +so tired"—within the sick room, and my father's despair and bitter +groan that he would sacrifice every earthly possession to keep me +alive, outside it, would have caused many people to lose their heads. +In such an hour many a foolish, gossiping, half-educated woman, by +absolute faithfulness to the small details of her trust, by the +complete laying aside of personal needs and personal feelings, rises +to the sublimity of duty, and, ministering to the wants of another +with an unselfish vigilance almost perfect, earns that meed of praise +from men, which from time to time persists, in grateful hyperbole, to +liken her sex to the angels.</p> + +<p>My poor father, whose irrepressible distress led to his being +forbidden to enter my room, powerless to help, and therefore without +alleviation for his anxiety, simply hung upon Nurse Bundle's orders +and reports, and relied utterly on her. Fortunately for his own +health, she gained sufficient influence to insist, almost as +peremptorily as in my case, upon his taking food. Often afterwards did +she describe how he and Rubens sat outside the door they were not +allowed to enter; and she used to declare that when she came out, +Rubens, as well as my father, turned an anxious and expectant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +countenance towards her, and that both alike seemed to await and to +understand her report of my condition.</p> + +<p>Only once did Nurse Bundle's self-possession threaten to fail her. It +was on my repeated and urgent request to "have the clergyman to pray +with me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bundle, like most uneducated people, rather regarded the +visitation of the sick by the parish clergyman as a sort of extreme +unction or last sacrament. And to send for the parson seemed to her +tantamount to dismissing the doctor and ringing the passing bell. My +father was equally averse from the idea on other grounds. Moreover, +our old rector had gone, and the lately-appointed one was a stranger, +and rather an eccentric stranger, by all accounts.</p> + +<p>For my own part, I had a strong interest in the new rector. His +Christian name was the same as my own, which I felt to constitute a +sort of connection; and the tales I had heard in the village of his +peculiarities had woven a sort of ecclesiastical romance about him in +my mind. He had come from some out-of-the-way parish in the west of +England, where his people, being thoroughly used to his ways, took +them as a matter of course. It was his scrupulous custom to conform as +minutely as possible to the canons of the Church, as well as to the +rubrics of the Prayer Book, and this to the point of wearing shoes +instead of boots. He was a learned man, a naturalist, and an +antiquarian. His appearance was remarkable, his hair being prematurely +white, and yet thick, his eyes grey and expressive, with thick dark +eyebrows, which actually met above them. For the rest, he was tall, +thin, and dressed in obedience to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> canons. I had been much +interested in all that I had heard of him, and since my illness I had +often thought of the unqualified note of praise I had heard sounded in +his favour by more than one village matron, "He's beautiful in a +sick-room." It was on one occasion when I heard this that I also heard +that he was accustomed on entering the house to pronounce the +appointed salutation, in the words of the Prayer Book, "Peace be to +this house, and to all that dwell in it." And so it came about that, +when my importunity and anxiety on the subject had overcome the +scruples of my father and nurse, and they had decided to let me have +my way rather than increase my malady by fretting, the new rector came +into my room, and my first eager question was, "Did you say +that—about Peace, you know—when you came in?"</p> + +<p>"I did," said the rector; and as he spoke one of his merits became +obvious. He had a most pleasing voice.</p> + +<p>"Say it again!" I cried, petulantly.</p> + +<p>"Peace be to this house, and to all that dwell in it," he repeated +slowly, and with slightly upraised hand.</p> + +<p>"That's Rubens and all," was my comment.</p> + +<p>As I wished, the rector prayed by my bedside; and I think he must have +been rather astonished by the fact that at points which struck me I +rather groaned than said, "Amen." The truth is, I had once happened to +go into a cottage where our old rector was praying by the bed of a +sick old man—a Methodist—who groaned "Amen" at certain points in a +manner which greatly impressed me, and I now did likewise, in that +imitativeness of childhood which had helped to lead me to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> fancy +for surrounding my own sick bed with all the circumstances I had seen +and heard of in such cases in the village. For this reason I had (to +her hardly concealed distress) given Nurse Bundle, from time to time, +directions as to my wishes in the event of my death. I remember +especially, that I begged she would not fail to cover up all the +furniture with white cloths, and to allow all my friends to come and +see me in my coffin. Thus also I groaned and said "Amen"—"like a poor +person"—at what I deemed suitable points, as the rector prayed.</p> + +<p>He was not less wise in a sick room than Mrs. Bundle herself. He +contrived to quieten instead of exciting me, and to the sound of his +melodious voice reading in soothing monotone from my favourite book of +the Bible—the Revelation of St. John the Divine—I finally fell +asleep.</p> + +<p>When the inspired description of the New Jerusalem ended, and my own +dream began, I never knew. As I dreamed, it seemed a wonderful and +beautiful vision, though all that I could ever remember of it in +waking hours was the sheerest nonsense.</p> + +<p>And this was the beginning of my acquaintance with the Rev. Reginald +Andrewes.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>CONVALESCENCE—MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS—THE JOURNEY TO OAKFORD—OUR WELCOME</h3> + + +<p>On the day when I first left my sick room, and was moved to a sofa in +what had been my poor mother's boudoir, my father put fifty pounds +into Nurse Bundle's hand, and sent another fifty to Mr. Andrewes for +some communion vessels for the church, on which the rector had set his +heart. They were both thank-offerings.</p> + +<p>"I owe my son's recovery to <span class="smcap">God</span>, and to you, Mrs. Bundle," said my +father, with a certain elaborateness of speech to which he was given +on important occasions. "No money could purchase such care as you +bestowed on him, and no money can reward it; but it will be doing me a +farther favour to allow me to think that, should sickness ever +overtake yourself when we are no longer together, this little sum, +laid by, may come in useful, and afford you a few comforts."</p> + +<p>That first evening of my convalescence we were quite jubilant; but +afterwards there were many weary days of weakness, irritability, and +<i>ennui</i> on my part, and anxiety and disappointment on my father's. +Rubens was a great comfort at this period. For his winning ways formed +an interest, and served a little to vary the monotony of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> hours +when I was too weak to bear any definite amusement or occupation. It +must have been about this time that a long cogitation with myself led +to the following conversations with Nurse Bundle and my father:—</p> + +<p>"How old are you, Nurse?" I inquired, one forenoon, when she had +neatly arranged the tray containing my chop, wine, etc., by my chair.</p> + +<p>"Five-and-fifty, love, come September," said Nurse Bundle.</p> + +<p>"Do people ever marry when they are five-and-fifty, papa?" I asked +that evening, as I lay languid and weary on the sofa.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear boy, sometimes. But why do you want to know?"</p> + +<p>"I think I shall marry Nurse Bundle when I am old enough," I said, +with almost melancholy gravity. "She's a good deal older than I am; +but I love her very much. And she would make me very comfortable. She +knows my ways."</p> + +<p>My father has often told me that he would have laughed aloud, but for +the sad air of utter weariness over my helpless figure, the painful, +unchildlike anxiousness on my thin face, and in my old-fashioned air +and attitude. I have myself quite forgotten the occurrence.</p> + +<p>At last this most trying time was over, but the fever had left me +taller, weaker, and much in need of what doctors call "tone." All +concerned in the care of me were now unanimous in declaring that I +must have a "change of air."</p> + +<p>There was some little difficulty in deciding where to go. Another +visit to Aunt Maria was out of the question. Even if London had been a +suitable place, the fear of infection for my cousins made it not to be +thought of.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where would <i>you</i> like to go, Nurse?" I inquired one evening, as we +all sat in the boudoir discussing the topic of the day.</p> + +<p>"I should like to go wherever it's best for your good health, Master +Reginald," was Nurse Bundle's answer, which, though admirable in its +spirit, did not further the settlement of the matter we found it so +difficult to decide.</p> + +<p>"But where would you like to go for yourself?" I persisted. "Where +would you go if it was you going away, and nobody else?"</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, if it was me just going away for myself, I think I +should go to my sister's at Oakford."</p> + +<p>This reply drew from me a catechism of questions about Oakford, and +Nurse Bundle's sister, and Nurse Bundle's sister's husband, and their +children; and when my father came to sit with me I had a long history +of Oakford and Nurse Bundle's relatives at my fingers' ends, and was +full of a new fancy, which was strong upon me, to go and stay for +awhile at Oakford with Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Buckle.</p> + +<p>"Nurse says they sometimes let lodgings," I said; "and I should like +Nurse to see her sister; and," I candidly added, "I should like to see +her myself."</p> + +<p>My father's uppermost wish was to please me; and as Oakford was known +to be healthy, and the doctor favoured the proposition, it was decided +according to my wishes. If we stayed long, my father was to go +backwards and forwards, and he was to fetch us when we went away. His +anxiety was still so great, and led him to watch me in a manner which +fidgeted me so much, that I think the doctor was only too glad that +the place should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> be sufficiently near to induce him to leave me to +the care of Nurse Bundle.</p> + +<p>We went by coach to Oakford. I was not allowed to sit outside on this +journey. It was only a short one, however; and, truth to say, I did +not feel strong enough for any feats of energy, and went meekly enough +into that stuffy hole, the inside! Before following me, Nurse Bundle +gave some directions to the driver, of a kind that could only be +effectual in reference to a small place where everybody was known.</p> + +<p>"Coachman! Oakford! And drop us at Mr. Buckle's, please, the saddler."</p> + +<p>"High Street, isn't it?" said the fat coachman, looking down on Mrs. +Bundle exactly as a parrot looks down from his perch.</p> + +<p>"To be sure; only three doors below the 'Crown.'"</p> + +<p>With which Mrs. Bundle gathered up her skirts, and her worsted +workbag, and clambered into the coach.</p> + +<p>There were two other "insides." One of these never spoke at all during +the journey. The other only spoke once, and he seems to have been +impelled thereto by a three hours' contemplation of the contrast +between my slim, wasted little figure, and Nurse Bundle's portly +person, as we sat opposite to him. He was a Scotchman, and I fancy "in +business."</p> + +<p>"You're weel matched to sit on the one side," was his remark.</p> + +<p>Once, when I was feeling faint, he opened the window without my having +spoken, and only acknowledged my thanks by a silent nod. When the +coach stopped in the High Street of Oakford, and Nurse Bundle had +descended, he so far<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> relaxed, as he handed out me and the worsted +workbag, as to indulge his national thirst for general information by +the inquiring remark:</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pic_4" id="pic_4"></a> +<img src="images/image_076.jpg" alt=""Mr. Buckle, I believe?"" width="500" height="823" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"Mr. Buckle, I believe?"</span></p> + + +<p>"You'll be staying at the 'Crown' the night, mem?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir. We stop here," said Nurse Bundle.</p> + +<p>I caught his keen blue eye at the window whilst the coach was delayed +by the getting out of our luggage. I do not think he missed one +feature of our welcome on the threshold of the saddler's shop.</p> + +<p>I feel sure that Scotchmen do greatly profit by the habit they have of +"absorbing into their constitutions," so to speak, all the facts of +every kind that come within their ken. They "go in for general +information," like the Tom Toddy in Mr. Kingsley's 'Water Babies;' but +their hard heads have, fortunately, no likeness to turnips.</p> + +<p>This, however, is a digression.</p> + +<p>Mr. Benjamin Buckle, Mrs. Benjamin Buckle, Jemima Buckle, their +daughter, Mr. Buckle's apprentice, and the "general girl," or +maid-of-all-work, were all in the shop to receive us. I believe the +cat was the only living creature in the house who was not there. But +cats seldom exert themselves unnecessarily on behalf of other people, +and she awaited our arrival upstairs. I had a severe if not +undignified struggle with the string before I could get my hat off. +Then I advanced, and, holding out my hand to Mr. Buckle, said,</p> + +<p>"Mr. Buckle, I believe?"</p> + + +<p>"The same to you, sir, and a many of them," said Mr. Buckle, hastily; +being, I fancy, rather put out by the touch of my frail hand, which +was certainly very unlike the leather he handled daily. He saw his +mistake, and added quickly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Your servant, sir. I hope your health's better, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Very well, thank you," said I (all children make that answer, I +think).</p> + +<p>"What a little gentleman!" said Mrs. Buckle, in an audible "aside" to +my nurse. She was as good-natured a woman as Mrs. Bundle herself, but +with less brains. She lived in a chronic state of surprises and +superlatives.</p> + +<p>"You are Nurse's sister, aren't you, please?" I asked, going up to +her, and once more tendering my hand. "I wanted to see you very much."</p> + +<p>"Now just to think of that, Jemima! did you ever?" cried Mrs. Buckle.</p> + +<p>"La!" said Jemima; in acknowledgment of which striking remark, I bent +my head, and said,</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Jemima?" adding, almost without an instant's pause, +"Please take me away, Nurse! I am so very tired."</p> + +<p>By one immediate and unbroken action, Mrs. Bundle cut her way through +our hospitable friends and the scattered rolls of leather and other +trade accessories in the shop, and conveyed me into an arm-chair in +the sitting-room upstairs, where I sat, the tears running down my face +for very weakness.</p> + +<p>I had longed for the novelty of a residence above a saddler's shop; +but now, too weary for new experiences, I was only conscious that the +stairs were narrow, the room dingy and vulgar after the rooms at home, +and as I wept I wished I had never come.</p> + +<p>At this day, I am glad that I had the courtesy to restrain my +feelings, and not to damp the delighted welcome of Nurse and her +friends by an insulting avowal of my disappointment. I really was not +a spoilt child; and indeed, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> insolent and undisciplined egotism of +many children "now-a-days," was not often tolerated by the past +generation. As I sat silent and sad, Nurse Bundle ransacked her bag, +muttering, "What a fool I be, to be sure!" and anon produced a flask +of wine, from which she filled a wine-glass with a very big leg, which +was one of the chimney ornaments. I emptied it in obedience to her +orders, and in a few minutes my tears ceased, and I began to take a +more cheerful view of the wallpaper and the antimacassars.</p> + +<p>"What a pretty cat!" I said, at last. The said cat, a beauty, was +lying on the hearthrug.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it a beauty, love?" said Nurse Bundle; "and look, my dear, at +your own little dog lying as good as gold in the rocking-chair, and +not so much as looking at puss."</p> + +<p>Rubens did not <i>quite</i> deserve this panegyric. He lay in his chair +without touching puss, it is true; but he kept his eye firmly and +constantly fixed upon her, only restrained from an attack by my known +objection to such proceedings, and by the immovable composure of the +good lady herself. Half a movement of encouragement on my part, half a +movement of flight on the cat's, and Rubens would have been after her. +All this was so plainly expressed in his attitude, that I burst out +laughing. Rubens chose to take this as a sound to the chase, and only +by the most peremptory orders could I induce him to keep quiet. As to +the cat, I saw one convulsive twitch of the very tip of her tail, +eloquent of wrath; otherwise she never moved.</p> + +<p>"Now, my dear," said Mrs. Bundle, "suppose you come upstairs to bed, +and get a good night's rest. I can hear Jemima a-shaking of the coals +in the warming-pan now, on the stairs."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<p>Warming-pans were not much used at home, and I was greatly interested +in the brazen implement which Jemima wielded so dexterously.</p> + +<p>"It's like an ironing cloth," was my comment when I got between the +sheets. I had often warmed my hands on the table where Nurse ironed my +collars at home.</p> + +<p>Rubens duly came to bed; and I fell asleep, well satisfied on the +whole with Oakford and the saddler's household.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>THE TINSMITH'S—THE BEAVER BONNETS—A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING—I FAIL TO SECURE A SISTER—RUBENS AND THE DOLL</h3> + + +<p>Oakford was not a large town. It only boasted of one street, "to be +called a street," as Mr. Buckle phrased it, though two or three lanes, +with more or less pretentious rows of houses, and so forth, ran at +right angles to the High Street. The High Street was a steep hill. It +was tolerably broad, very clean, pebbled and picturesque. The "Crown +Inn" was an old house with an historical legend attached to it. +Several of the shops were also in very old houses, with overhanging +upper stories and most comfortable window seats. Mr. Buckle's was one +of these.</p> + +<p>The air of the place was keen, but very healthy, and I seemed to gain +strength with every hour of my stay. With strength, all my interest in +the novelty of the situation woke afresh, and I was delighted with +everything, but especially with the shop.</p> + +<p>On the subject of the saddlery business, I must confess that a +difference of opinion existed between myself and my excellent nurse. +She jealously maintained my position as a "young gentleman" and +lodger, against the familiarity into which the Buckles and I fell by +common consent. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> served my meals in separate state, and kept +Jemima as well as herself in attendance on my wants. She made my +sitting-room as comfortable as she could, and here it was her wish +that I should sit, when in the house, "like a young gentleman." My +wish, on the contrary, was to be in the shop, and as much as possible +like a grown-up saddler. It did seem so delightful to be always +working at that nice-smelling leather, and to be able to make for +oneself unlimited straps, whips, and other masculine appendages. I was +perfectly happy with spare fragments, cutting out miniature saddles +and straps, stamping lines, punching holes, and mislaying the good +saddler's tools in these efforts; whilst my thoughts were occupied +with many a childish plan for inducing my father to apprentice me to +the worthy Mr. Buckle.</p> + +<p>I was a good deal taken with Mr. Buckle's apprentice, a rosy-cheeked +young man, whose dress and manners I endeavoured as much as possible +to imitate. I strutted in imitation of his style of walking down the +High Street, and about this time Nurse Bundle was wont to say she +"couldn't think what had come to" my hat, that it was "always stuck on +one side." Pondering the history of Dick Whittington and the fair +Alice, I said one day to Jemima Buckle,</p> + +<p>"I suppose you and Andrew will marry, and when Mr. Buckle dies you +will have the shop?"</p> + +<p>"Me marry the 'prentice!" said Miss Jemima. And I discovered how +little I knew of the shades of "caste" in Oakford.</p> + +<p>Jemima used often to take me out when Nurse Bundle was otherwise +engaged, and we were always very good friends. One day, I remember, +she was going to a shop about half way up the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> High Street, and I +obtained leave to go with her. Mrs. Bundle was busy superintending the +cooking of some special delicacy for her "young gentleman's" dinner, +and Jemima and I set forth on our errand. It was to a tinsmith's shop, +where a bath had been ordered for my accommodation.</p> + +<p>Ah! through how many years that steep street, with its clean, sunny +stones, its irregular line of quaint old buildings, and the distant +glimpse of big trees within palings into which it passed at the top, +where the town touched the outskirts of some gentleman's place, has +remained on my mind like a picture! Getting a little vague after a few +years, and then perhaps a little altered, as fancy almost +involuntarily supplied the defects of memory; but still that steep +street, that tinsmith's shop—<i>the</i> features of Oakford!</p> + +<p>I have since thought that Jemima must have had some special attraction +to the tinsmith's, her errands there were so many, and took so much +time. This occasion may be divided into three distinct periods. During +the first, I waited in that state of vacant patience whereby one +endures other people's shopping. During the second, I walked round all +the cans, pans, colanders, and graters, and took a fancy to a tin mug. +It was neither so valuable nor so handsome as the silver mug with +dragon handles given me by my Indian godfather, but it was a novelty. +When I looked closer, however, I found that it was marked, in plain +figures, fourpence, which at that time was beyond my means; so I +walked to the door, that I might solace the third period by looking +out into the street. As I looked, there came down the hill a fine, +large, sleek donkey, led by an old man-servant, and having on its back +what is called a Spanish saddle,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> in which two little girls sat side +by side, the whole party jogging quietly along at a foot's pace in the +sunshine. I may say here that my experience of little girls had been +almost entirely confined to my cousins, and that I was so overwhelmed +and impressed by the loveliness of these two children, and by their +quaint, queenly little ways, that time has not dimmed one line in the +picture that they then made upon my mind. I can see them now as +clearly as I saw them then, as I stood at the tinsmith's door in the +High Street of Oakford—let me see, how many years ago? ("Never mind," +says my wife; "go on with the story, my dear," and I go on.)</p> + +<p>The child who looked the older, but was, as I afterwards discovered, +the younger of the two, was also the less pretty. And yet she had a +sweet little face, hair like spun gold, and blue-grey eyes with dark +lashes. She wore a grey frock of some warm material, below which +peeped her indoors dress of blue. The outer coat had a quaint cape +like a coachman's, which was relieved by a broad white crimped frill +round her throat. Her legs were cased in knitted gaiters of white +wool, and her hands in the most comical miniatures of gloves. On her +fairy head she wore a large bonnet of grey beaver, with a frill +inside. (My wife explains that it was a "cap-front," adorned with +little bunches of ribbon, and having a cap attached to it, the whole +being put on separately before the bonnet. Details which seem to amuse +my little daughters, and to have less interest for my sons.) But it +was her sister who shone on my young eyes like a fairy vision. She +looked too delicate, too brilliant, too utterly lovely, for anywhere +but fairy-land. She ought to have been kept in tissue-paper, like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> the +loveliest of wax dolls. Her hair was the true flaxen, the very fairest +of the fair. The purity and vividness of the tints of red and white in +her face I have never seen equalled. Her eyes were of speedwell blue, +and looked as if they were meant to be always more or less brimming +with tears. To say the truth, her face had not half the character +which gave force to that of the other little damsel, but a certain +helplessness about it gave it a peculiar charm. She was dressed +exactly like the other, with one exception; her bonnet was of white +beaver, and she became it like a queen.</p> + +<p>At the tinsmith's door they stopped, and the old man-servant, after +unbuckling a strap which seemed to support them in their saddle, +lifted each little miss in turn to the ground. Once on the pavement, +the little lady of the grey beaver shook herself out, and proceeded to +straighten the disarranged overcoat of her companion, and then, taking +her by the hand, the two clambered up the step into the shop. The +tinsmith's shop boasted of two seats, and on to one of these she of +the grey beaver with some difficulty climbed. The eyes of the other +were fast filling with tears, when from her lofty perch the sister +caught sight of the man-servant, who stood in the doorway, and she +beckoned him with a wave of her tiny finger.</p> + +<p>"Lift her up, if you please," she said, on his approach. And the other +child was placed on the other chair.</p> + +<p>The shopman appeared to know them, and though he smiled, he said very +respectfully,</p> + +<p>"What article can I show you this morning, ladies?"</p> + +<p>The fairy-like creature in the white beaver, who had been fumbling in +her miniature glove, now<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> timidly laid a farthing on the counter, and +then turning her back for very shyness on the shopman, raised one +small shoulder, and inclining her head towards it, gave an appealing +glance at her sister out of the pale-blue eyes. That little lady, thus +appealed to, firmly placed another farthing on the board, and said in +the tiniest but most decided of voices,</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"TWO FLAT IRONS, IF YOU PLEASE."</p></div> + +<p class="center"><a name="pic_5" id="pic_5"></a> +<img src="images/image_084.jpg" alt="She rolled abruptly over on her seat and scrambled off backwards." width="500" height="831" /><br /> +<span class="caption">She rolled abruptly over on her seat and scrambled off +backwards.</span></p> + +<p>Hereupon the shopman produced a drawer from below the counter, and set +it before them. What it contained I was not tall enough to see, but +out of it he took several tiny flat irons of triangular shape, and +apparently made of pewter, or some alloy of tin. These the grey beaver +examined and tried upon a corner of her cape with inimitable gravity +and importance. At last she selected two, and keeping one for herself, +gave the other to her sister.</p> + +<p>"Is it a nice one?" the little white-beavered lady inquired.</p> + +<p>"Very nice."</p> + +<p>"<i>Kite</i> as nice as yours?" she persisted.</p> + +<p>"Just the same," said the other, firmly. And having glanced at the +corner to see that the farthings were both duly deposited, she rolled +abruptly over on her seat, and scrambled off backwards, a manœuvre +which the other child accomplished with more difficulty. The coats and +capes were then put tidy as before, and the two went out of the shop +together hand in hand.</p> + +<p>Then the old man-servant lifted them into the Spanish saddle, and +buckled the strap, and away they went up the steep street, and over +the brow of the hill, where trees and palings began to show, the +beaver bonnets nodding together in consultation over the flat irons.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>THE LITTLE LADIES AGAIN—THE MEADS—THE DROWNED DOLL</h3> + + +<p>"Mr. Buckle, sir, can you oblige me with eight farthings for +twopence?"</p> + +<p>I had closely copied this form of speech from the apprentice, whose +ways, as I have said, I endeavoured in every way to imitate. Thus, +twopence being at that time the extent of my resources, I went about +for some days after my adventure at the tinsmith's with all my worldly +wealth in my pocket in farthings, pondering many matters.</p> + + + +<p>I began to have my doubts about saddlery as a profession. Truth to +say, a want beyond the cutting and punching of leather had begun to +stir within me. I wished for a sister. Somehow I had never desired to +adopt one of my cousins in this relation, not even my dear friend +Polly; but since I had seen the little lady in the white beaver, I +felt how nice it would be to have such a sister to play with, as I had +heard of other sisters and brothers playing together. Then I fancied +myself showing her all my possessions at home, and begging the like +for her from my indulgent father. I pictured the new interest which my +old toys would derive from being exhibited to her. I thought I would +beg for an exhibition of the magic <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>lantern, for a garden for her +like my own, and for several half-holidays. It delighted me to imagine +myself presenting her with whatever she most admired, like some +Eastern potentate or fairy godmother. But I could not connect her in +my mind with the saddlery business. I felt that to possess so dainty +and elegant a little lady as a sister was incompatible with an +apprenticeship to Mr. Buckle.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile I kept watch on the High Street from Mr. Buckle's door. One +morning I saw the donkey, the man, the Spanish saddle, and the beaver +bonnets come over the brow of the hill, and I forthwith ran to Nurse +Bundle, and begged leave to go alone to the tinsmith's, and invest one +of my eight farthings in a flat iron. It was only a few yards off, and +she consented; but, as I had to submit to be dressed, by the time I +got there the little ladies were already in the shop, and seated on +the two chairs. My fairy beauty looked round as I came in, and +recognizing me, gave a little low laugh, and put her head on her own +shoulder, and then peeped again, smiling so sweetly that I fairly +loved her. The other was too deeply engaged in poking and fumbling for +farthings in her glove to permit herself to be distracted by anything +or anybody. This process was so slow that the shopman came up to me +and asked what I wanted. I took a well-warmed farthing from the +handful I carried, and laid it on the counter, saying—</p> + +<p>"A flat iron, if you please."</p> + +<p>He put several before me, and after making a show of testing them on +the end of my comforter, I selected one at random. I know that I did +not do it with half the air which the little grey-beavered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> lady had +thrown over the proceeding, but I hardly deserved the scornful tone in +which she addressed no one in particular with the remark, "He has no +business with flat irons. He's only a boy."</p> + +<p>She evidently expected no reply, for without a pause she proceeded to +count out five farthings on to the counter, saying as she did so, "A +frying-pan, a gridiron, a dish, and two plates, if you please." On +which, to my astonishment, miniature specimens of these articles, made +of the same material as the flat irons, were produced from the box +whence those had come. I was so bewildered by the severity of the +little lady's remarks, and the wonderful things which she obtained for +her farthings, that I dropped my remaining seven on to the shop floor, +and was still grubbing for them in the dust, when the children having +finished their shopping, came backwards off the seats as usual. They +passed me in the doorway, hand in hand. The little lady with the white +beaver was next to me, and as she passed she gave a shy glance, and +her face dimpled all over into smiles. Unspeakably pleased by her +recognition, I abandoned my farthings to their fate, and jumping up, I +held out my dusty hand to the little damsel, saying hastily but as +civilly as I could, "How do you do? I hope you're pretty well. And oh, +please, <i>will</i> you be my sister?"</p> + +<p>Having once begun, I felt quite equal to a full explanation of my +position and the prospect of toys and treats before us both. I was +even prepared, in the generous excitement of the moment to endow my +new sister with a joint partnership in the possession of Rubens, and +was about to explain all the advantages the little lady would derive +from having me for a brother, when I was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> stopped by the changed +expression on her pretty face.</p> + +<p>I suppose my sudden movement had startled her, for her smiles vanished +in a look of terror, as she clung to her companion, who opened wide +her eyes, and shaking her grey beaver vehemently, said, "We don't know +you, Boy!"</p> + +<p>Then they fled to the side of the old man-servant as fast as their +white-gaitered legs would carry them.</p> + +<p>I watered the dusty floor of the shop with tears of vexation as I +resumed my search for the farthings, and having found them I went back +to the saddler's, pounding them in my hot hand, and bitterly +disappointed.</p> + +<p>I don't suppose that Rubens understood the feelings which gave an +extra warmth to my caresses, as I hugged him in my arms, exclaiming,</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> aren't afraid of me, you dear thing!"</p> + +<p>But he responded sympathetically, both with tongue and tail.</p> + +<p>I had not frightened the little ladies away from the High Street, it +seemed. I saw them again two days later. They had been out as usual, +and some trifling mischance having happened to the Spanish saddle, +they called at Mr. Buckle's door for repairs. I was in the shop, and +could see the two little maidens as they sat hanging over their strap, +with a doll dressed very much like themselves between them. I crept +nearer to the door, where the quick grey eyes of the younger one +caught sight of me, and I heard her say in her peculiarly trenchant +tones—</p> + +<p>"Why, there's that Boy again!"</p> + +<p>I slipped a little to one side, and took up a tool and a bit of +leather with a pretence of working,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> hoping to be out of sight, and +yet to be able to look at the little white-beavered fairy, for whom my +fancy was in no way abated. But her keen-eyed sister saw me still, and +her next remark rang out with uncompromising distinctness—</p> + +<p>"He's in the shop still. He's working. He must be a shop-boy!"</p> + +<p>I dropped the tools, and rushed away to my sitting-room. My +mortification was complete, and it was of a kind that Rubens could not +understand. Fortunately for me, he simply went with my humour, without +being particular as to the reason of it, like the tenderest of women.</p> + +<p>A day or two afterwards I went out with Rubens and Jemima Buckle for a +walk. Our way home lay through some flat green meads, crossed by a +stream, which, in its turn, was crossed by a little rustic bridge. As +we came into these fields we met a man whose face seemed familiar, +though I could not at first recall where I had seen him. Afterwards I +remembered that he was the tinsmith, and Jemima stayed to chat with +him for a few minutes, but Rubens and I strolled on.</p> + +<p>It seemed an odd coincidence that, a few seconds after meeting the +tinsmith, I should meet the little white-beavered lady. She was +crossing the bridge. Her sister was not with her, nor the donkey, nor +the man-servant. She was walking with a nurse, and she carried a big +doll in her arms. The doll, as I have said before, was "got up" +wonderfully like its mistress. It had a miniature coat and cape and +frills, it had leggings, it had a white plush bonnet (so my wife +enables me to affirm), it had hair just the colour of the little +lady's locks.</p> + +<p>As she crossed the bridge, she seemed much pleased by the running of +the water beneath her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> feet, and saying, "Please let Dolly 'ook," in +her pretty broken tones, she pushed her doll through the rustic work, +holding it by its sash. But, alas! the doll was heavy, and the sash +insecurely fastened. It gave way, and the doll plunged into the +stream.</p> + +<p>Once more the sweet little face was convulsed by a look of terror and +distress. As the doll floated out on the other side of the bridge, she +shrieked and wrung her hands. As for me, I ran down to the edge of the +stream, calling Rubens after me, and pointing to the doll. Only too +glad of an excuse for a plunge, in he dashed, and soon brought the +unfortunate miss to shore by one of her gaitered legs. It was with +some triumph that I carried the dripping doll to its little mistress, +and heard the nurse admonish her to—</p> + +<p>"Thank the young gentleman, my dear."</p> + +<p>I have often since heard of faces "like an April sky," but I never saw +one which did so resemble it in being by turns bright and overcast, +with tears and smiles struggling together, and fear and pleased +recognition, as the face of the little blonde in the white beaver +bonnet. It was she who held out her hand this time, and as I took it +she said, "'ank you 'erry much."</p> + +<p>"It was Rubens' doing, not mine," said I. "Rubens! shake hands, sir!"</p> + +<p>But the little lady was frightened. She shrank away from the warm +greeting of Rubens, and I was obliged to shake hands with him myself +to satisfy his feelings.</p> + +<p>The nursemaid had been wringing out the doll's clothes for the little +lady, but now they moved on together.</p> + +<p>"Dood-bye!" said the little lady, smiling and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> waving her hand. I +waved mine, and then Jemima, having parted with the tinsmith, came up, +and we went home.</p> + +<p>I never saw the beaver bonnets again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>POLLY—THE PEW AND THE PULPIT—THE FATE OF THE FLAT IRON</h3> + + +<p>By the time that my father came to fetch us away, I was wonderfully +improved in health and strength. I even wanted to go back outside the +coach; but this was not allowed.</p> + +<p>I did not forget the little lady in the white beaver, even after my +return to Dacrefield. I was fond of drawing, and I made what seemed to +me a rather striking portrait of her (at least as to colouring), and +wore it tied by a bit of string round my neck. It is unromantic to +have to confess that it fell at last into the washhand basin, and was +reduced to pulp.</p> + +<p>I brought my farthing flat-iron home with me, and it was for long a +favourite plaything. I used to sprinkle corners of my pocket-handkerchief +with water, as I had seen Nurse Bundle "damp fine things" before ironing +them. But after all, "play" of this kind is dull work played alone. I was +very glad when Polly came.</p> + +<p>It was a few weeks after our return that my father proposed to ask +Cousin Polly to pay us a visit. I think my aunt had said something in +a letter about her not being well, and the visit was supposed to be +for the benefit of her health.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was not ill for long at Dacrefield. My "lessons" were of a very +slight description as yet, and we spent most of our time out of doors. +The fun of showing Polly about the farm and grounds was quite as +satisfactory as any that my dream of the flaxen-haired sister had +promised. I was quite prepared to yield to Cousin Polly in all things +as before; but she, no doubt in deference to my position as host, met +me halfway with unusual affability and graciousness. Country life +exactly suited her. I think she was profoundly happy exploring the +garden, making friends with the cows and horses, feeding the rabbits +and chickens, and "playing at haunted castles" in the barn.</p> + +<p>Her vigour and daring when we climbed trees together were the objects +of my constant admiration. Tree-climbing was Polly's favourite +amusement, and the various fancies she "pretended" in connection with +it, did credit to her imaginative powers. Sometimes she "pretended" to +be Jack in the Beanstalk; sometimes she pretended to be at the +mast-head of a ship at sea; sometimes to be in an upper story of a +fairy-house; sometimes to be escaping from a bear; sometimes (with +recollections of London) to be the bear himself on a pole, or a monkey +in the Zoological Gardens; or to be on the top of the Monument or of +St. Paul's. Our most common game, however, was the time-honoured drama +of "houses." Each branch constituted a story, and we used to emulate +each other in our exploits of high climbing, with a formula that ran +thus:—</p> + +<p>"Now I'm in the area" (the lowest branch). "Now I'm on the dining-room +floor" (the next), and so on, ending with, "And now I'm the very poor +person in the garret."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<p>There were two trees which stood near each other, of about equal +difficulty.</p> + +<p>We used each to climb one, and as we started together, the one who +first became the "very poor person in the garret" was held to be the +winner of the game.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pic_6" id="pic_6"></a> +<img src="images/image_096.jpg" alt="Polly and Regie in the "Pulpit" and the "Pew"." width="500" height="834" /><br /> +<span class="caption">Polly and Regie in the "Pulpit" and the "Pew".</span></p> + +<p>We were not allowed to climb trees on Sunday, which was a severe +exercise of Polly's principles. One Sunday afternoon, however, much to +my amazement, she led me away down the shrubbery, saying,</p> + +<p>"My dear Regie! I've found two trees which I'm sure we may climb on +Sundays." Much puzzled, I nevertheless yielded to her, being quite +accustomed to trust all her proceedings.</p> + +<p>I was not enlightened by the appearance of the trees, which were very +much like others as to their ladder-like peculiarities. They were old +Portugal laurels which had been cut in a good deal at various times. +They looked very easy to climb, and did not seem to boast many +"stories." I did not see anything about them adapted for Sunday +amusement in particular.</p> + +<p>But Polly soon explained herself.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Regie," said she; "this tree has got three beautiful +branches, one for the clerk, one for the reading-desk, and one for the +pulpit. I'm going to get into the top one and preach you a sermon; and +you're to sit in that other tree—it makes a capital pew. I'm sure +it's quite a Sunday game," added Polly, mounting to the pulpit with +her accustomed energy.</p> + +<p>I seated myself in the other tree; and Polly, after consuming some +time in "settling herself," appeared to be ready; but she still +hesitated, and finally burst out laughing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," she added, rubbing her hands over her laughing +mouth, and composing herself. "Now I'm going to begin." But she still +giggled, which led me to say—</p> + +<p>"Never mind the text, as you're laughing. Begin at once without."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Polly.</p> + +<p>There was another break down, and then she seemed fairly grave.</p> + +<p>"My dear brethren," she began.</p> + +<p>"There's only one of us," I ventured to observe.</p> + +<p>"Now, Regie, you mustn't speak. The congregation never speaks to the +clergyman when he's preaching."</p> + +<p>"It's such a small congregation," I pleaded.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I won't preach at all, if you go on like that," said +Polly.</p> + +<p>But, as I saw that she was getting cross, and as I had no intention of +offending her, I apologized, and begged her to proceed with her +sermon. So she began again accordingly—</p> + +<p>"My dear brethren."</p> + +<p>But here she paused; and after a few moments of expectation on my +part, and silence on Polly's, she said—</p> + +<p>"Is your pew comfortable, Regie dear?"</p> + +<p>"Very," said I. "How do you like the pulpit?"</p> + +<p>"Very much indeed," said Polly; "but I don't think I can preach +without a cushion. Suppose we talk."</p> + +<p>Thus the sermon was abandoned; and as Polly refused to let me try my +luck in the pulpit, she remained at a considerably higher level than I +was. At last I became impatient of this fact, and began to climb +higher.</p> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Stop!" cried Polly; "you mustn't leave your pew."</p> + +<p>"I'm going into the gallery," a happy thought enabled me to say.</p> + +<p>Polly made no answer. She seemed to be meditating some step; and +presently I saw her scramble down to the ground in her own rapid +fashion.</p> + +<p>"Regie dear, will you promise not to get into my pulpit till I come +back?" she begged.</p> + +<p>I gave the promise; and, without answering my questions as to what she +was going to do, she sped off towards the house. In about five minutes +she returned with something held in the skirt of her frock, which +seemed greatly to incommode her in climbing. At last she reached the +pulpit, but she did not stay there. Up and on she went, much hindered +by her burden.</p> + +<p>"Polly! Polly!" I cried. "You mustn't go higher than the pulpit. You +know it isn't fair. The pulpit is the top one, and you must stay +there. The clergyman never goes into the gallery."</p> + +<p>"I'm not going into the gallery," she gasped; and on she went to the +topmost of the large branches. There she paused, and from her lap she +drew forth the dinner-bell.</p> + +<p>"I'm in the belfry," she shouted in tones of triumph, "and I'm going +to ring the bell for service."</p> + +<p>Which she accordingly did, with such a hearty goodwill that Nurse +Bundle and several others of the household came out to see what was +the matter. My father laughed loudly, but Mrs. Bundle was seriously +displeased.</p> + +<p>"Master Reginald would never have thought of no such thing on a Sunday +afternoon but for you,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> Miss Polly," she said, with a partiality for +her "own boy" which offended my sense of justice.</p> + +<p>"I climbed a tree too, Nurse," I said, emphatically.</p> + +<p>"And it was only a Sunday kind of climbing," Polly pleaded. But Nurse +Bundle refused to see the force of Polly's idea; we were ignominiously +dismissed to the nursery, and thenceforward were obliged, as before, +to confine our tree-climbing exploits to the six working days of the +week.</p> + +<p>And these Portugal laurels bore the names of the Pulpit and the Pew +ever afterwards.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>I showed my flat iron to Polly, and she was so much pleased with it +that I greatly regretted that I had only brought away this one from +Oakford. I should have given it to her, but for its connection with +the little white-beavered lady.</p> + +<p>We both played with it; and at a suggestion of Polly's, we gave quite +a new character to our "wash" (or rather "ironing," for we omitted the +earlier processes of the laundry). We used to cut small models of +clothes out of white paper, and then iron them with the farthing iron. +How nobly that domestic implement did its duty till the luckless day +when Polly became uneasy because we did not "put it down to the fire +to get hot!"</p> + +<p>"Nurse doesn't like us to play with fire," I conscientiously reminded +her.</p> + +<p>"It's not playing with fire; it's only putting the iron on the hob," +said Polly.</p> + +<p>And to this unworthy evasion I yielded, and—my arm being longer than +Polly's—put the flat iron on the top bar of the nursery grate with my +own hand. Whilst the iron was heating we went back to our scissors and +paper.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You cut out a few more white petticoats, Regie dear," said Polly, +"and I will make an iron-holder;" with which she calmly cut several +inches off the end of her sash, and began to fold it for the purpose.</p> + +<p>Aunt Maria's nursery discipline was firm, but her own nature was +independent, almost to aggressiveness; and Polly inherited enough of +the latter to more than counteract the repression of the former. Thus +all Cousin Polly's proceedings were very direct, and, if necessary, +daring. When she cut her sash, I exclaimed—"My dear Polly!" just as +Uncle Ascott was wont at times to cry—"My dear Maria!"</p> + +<p>"I'd nothing else to make it of," said Polly, calmly. "It's better +than cutting up my pocket-handkerchief, for it only shortens it a +little, and Mamma often cuts the ends a little when our sashes ravel. +How many petticoats have you done, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Four," said I.</p> + +<p>"Well, we've three skirts. Those long strips will do for Uncle +Reginald's neckties. You can cut that last sheet into two pieces, and +we'll pretend they're tablecloths. And then I think you'd better fetch +the iron. Here's the holder."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Polly dear! It is such fun!" I cried; but as I drew near to the +fireplace the words died away on my lips. My flat iron was gone.</p> + +<p>At first I thought it had fallen on to the hearth; but looking nearer +I saw a blob or button of lead upon the bar of the grate. There was no +resisting the conviction which forced itself upon me: my flat iron was +melted.</p> + +<p>Polly was much distressed. Doubly so because she had been the cause of +the misfortune. As we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> were examining the shapeless lump of metal, she +said, "It's like a little lump of silver that Miss Blomfield has +hanging to her watch chain;" which determined me to have a hole made +through the remains of my flat iron, and do the same.</p> + +<p>"Papa has promised me a watch next birthday," I added.</p> + +<p>Polly and I were very happy and merry together; but her visit came to +an end at last. Aunt Maria came to fetch her. She had brought her down +when she came, but had only stayed one night. On this occasion she +stayed from Saturday to Monday. Aunt Maria never allowed any of the +girls to travel alone, and they were never allowed to visit without +her at any but relations' houses. One consequence of which was, that +when they grew up, and were large young women with large noses, they +were the most helpless creatures at a railway-station that I ever +beheld.</p> + +<p>Whilst Aunt Maria was with us, she "spoke seriously," as it is called, +to my father about my education. I think she was shocked to discover +how thoroughly Polly and I had been "running wild" during Polly's +visit. Whether my father had given any rash assent to proposals for +our studying together, which Aunt Maria may have made at her last +visit, or not, I do not know. Anyway, my aunt seemed to be shocked, +and enlarged to my father on the waste of time involved in allowing me +to run wild so long. My father was apt to "take things easy," and I +fancy he made some vague promises as to my education, which satisfied +my aunt for the time. Polly and I parted with much grief on both +sides. Aunt Maria took her back to her lessons, and I was left to my +loneliness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> + +<p>I felt Polly's loss very much, especially as my father happened to be +a good deal engaged just then, and Nurse Bundle busy superintending +some new arrangements in our nursery premises. I think she missed +Polly herself; we had not been so quiet for some weeks. We almost felt +it dull.</p> + +<p>"Of course a country place <i>is</i> very quiet," Mrs. Bundle said one +evening to the housekeeper, with whom we were having tea for a change. +"Anybody feels it that has ever lived in a town, where people is +always dropping in."</p> + +<p>"What's 'dropping in,' Nurse?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, just calling in at anybody's house, and sitting down +in a friendly way, to exchange the weather and pass time like."</p> + +<p>"That must be very nice," I said.</p> + +<p>"Like as if we was in Oakford," Mrs. Bundle continued, "and I could +drop in, as it might be this afternoon, and take a seat in my sister's +and ask after their good healths."</p> + +<p>"I wish we could," said I.</p> + +<p>The idea fermented in my brain, as ideas were wont to do, in the large +share of solitary hours that fell to my lot. The result of it was the +following adventure.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>RUBENS AND I "DROP IN" AT THE RECTORY—GARDENS AND GARDENERS—MY FATHER COMES FOR ME</h3> + + +<p>One fine morning, when my father was busy with the farm-bailiff, and +Mrs. Bundle was "sorting" some clothes, I took my best hat from the +wardrobe, deliberately, and with some difficulty put on a clean frill, +fastened my boots, and calling Rubens after me, set forth from the +hall unnoticed by any of the family.</p> + +<p>Rubens jumped up at me in an inquiring fashion as we went along. He +could not imagine where we were going. I knew quite well. I was making +for the Rectory, the road to which I knew. I had often thought I +should like to go and see Mr. Andrewes, and Mrs. Bundle's remarks to +the housekeeper had suggested to me the idea of calling upon him. We +were near neighbours, though we did not live in a town. I resolved to +"drop in" at the Rectory.</p> + +<p>It was a lovely morning, and Rubens and I quite enjoyed our walk. He +became so much excited that it was with difficulty that I withheld him +from chasing the ducks on the pond in Mr. Andrewes' farm-yard, as we +went through it. (The parson had a little farm attached to his +Rectory.) Then I with difficulty unlatched the heavy gate leading into +the drive, and fastened it again with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> scrupulous care of a +country squire's son. The grounds were exquisitely kept. Mr. Andrewes +was a first-rate gardener and a fair farmer. That neatness, without +which the brightest flowers will not "show themselves" (as gardeners +say), did full justice to every luxuriant shrub, and set off the pale, +delicately-beautiful border of snowdrops and crocuses which edged the +road, and the clumps of daffodil, polyanthus, and primrose flowers +dotted hither and thither. I was not surprised to hear the chorus of +birds above my head, for it was one of the parson's "oddities" that he +would have no birds shot on his premises.</p> + +<p>When I came into the flower-garden, there was more exquisite neatness, +and more bright spring flowers, thinly scattered in comparison with +summer blossoms, but shining brightly against the rich dark mould. And +on the turf were lying gardening-tools, and busy among the tools and +flower-beds were two men—the Rev. Reginald Andrewes and his gardener. +It took me several seconds to distinguish master from man. They were +both in straw hats and shirt sleeves, but I recognised the parson by +his trousers. His hat was the older of the two, and not by any means +"canonical." Having found him, I went up to the bed where he was busy, +and sat down on the grass near him, without speaking. (I was +accustomed to respect my father's "busy" moments, and yet to be with +him.) Rubens followed my example, and sat down in silence also. He had +smelt the parson before, and wagged his tail faintly as he saw him. +But he reserved his opinion of the gardener, and seemed rather +disposed to growl when he touched the wheelbarrow.</p> + +<p>"Bless me!" said Mr. Andrewes, who was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> startled, as he well might be, +by my appearance. "Why, my dear boy, how are you?"</p> + +<p>"Very well, thank you," said I, getting up and offering my hand; "I've +dropped in."</p> + +<p>"Dear me!" said Mr. Andrewes; "I mean, I'm very glad to see you! Won't +you come in? You mustn't sit on the grass."</p> + +<p>"What a pretty garden you have!" I said, as we walked slowly towards +the house. Mr. Andrewes turned round.</p> + +<p>"Well, pretty well. It amuses me, you know," he said, with the mock +humility of a real horticulturist. And he looked round his garden with +an unmistakable glance of pride and affection. "Have you a garden, +Reginald?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said. "At least, I've two beds and a border. The beds are +shaped like an R and a D. But I haven't touched them since I was ill. +The gardener tidied them up when I was at Oakford, and I think he has +dug up all my plants. At least I couldn't find the Bachelor's Button, +nor the London Pride, nor the Pansies, and I saw the Lavender-bush on +the rubbish-heap."</p> + +<p>"So they do—so they always do!" said the parson, excitedly. "The only +way is to keep in the garden with them, and let nothing go into the +wheelbarrow but what you see.—Jones! you may go to your dinner. I +watch Jones like a dragon, but he sweeps up a tap-root now and then, +all the same; and yet he's better than most of them. Some flowers are +especially apt to take leave of one's beds and borders," Mr. Andrewes +went on. He was talking to himself rather than to me by this time. +"Fraxinellas, double-grey primroses, ay, and the pink and white ones +too. And hepaticas, red, blue, and white."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What are hepaticas like?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Let me show you," said Mr. Andrewes, crossing the garden. "Look here! +there are the pretty little things. I have seen them growing wild in +Canada—single ones, that is. The leaves are of a dull green, and when +they fade, the whole plant is hardly to be distinguished from Mother +Earth—at least, not by a gardener's eye. If you will promise me not +to let the gardener meddle with them, unless you are there to look +after him, I will give you plants for your beds and borders, my boy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you," I said; "I like gardening very much. I should like to +garden like you. I've got a spade, and a hoe, and a fork, and I had a +rake, but it's lost. But I know papa will give me another; and I can +tidy my own beds, so the gardener need not touch them; and if there +was a wheelbarrow small enough for me to wheel, I could take my weeds +away myself, you know."</p> + +<p>And I chattered on about my garden, for, like other children, I was +apt to "take up" things very warmly, in imitation of other people; and +Mr. Andrewes had already fired my imagination with dreams of a little +garden in perfect order and beauty, and tended by my own hands alone; +and as I talked of my garden, the parson talked of his, and so we +wandered from border to border, finding each other very good company, +Rubens walking demurely at our heels. A great many of Mr. Andrewes' +remarks, though I am sure they were very instructive, were beyond my +power of understanding; but as he closed each lecture on the various +flowers by a promise of a root, a cutting, a sucker, a seedling, or a +bulb, as the case might be, I was an attentive and well-satisfied +listener. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> much admired some daffodils, and Mr. Andrewes at once +began to pick a bunch of them for me.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it a pity to pick them?" I said, politely.</p> + +<p>"My dear Regie," said Mr. Andrewes, "if ever you see anybody with a +good garden of flowers who grudges picking them for his friends, you +may be quite sure he has not learnt half of what his flowers can teach +him. Flowers are generous enough. The more you take from them the more +they give. And yet I have seen people with beds glowing with +geraniums, and trees laden with roses, who grudged to pluck them, not +knowing that they would bloom all the better and more luxuriantly for +being culled."</p> + +<p>"Do daffodils flower better when the flowers are picked off?" I asked, +having my full share of the childish propensity for asking awkward and +candid questions. Mr. Andrewes laughed.</p> + +<p>"Well, no. I must confess they are not quite like geraniums in this +respect. And spring flowers are so few and so precious, one may be +excused for not quite cutting them like summer flowers. But it +wouldn't do only to be generous when it costs one nothing. Eh, Regie?"</p> + +<p>I laughed and said "No," which was what I was expected to say, and +thanked the parson for the daffodils. He pulled out his watch.</p> + +<p>"My dear boy, it's luncheon time. Will you come in and have something +to eat with me?"</p> + +<p>I hesitated; Mrs. Bundle had not spoken of any meal in connection with +the ceremony of "dropping in," but, on the other hand, I should +certainly like to lunch at the Rectory, I thought. And, indeed, I was +hungry.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you must come," said Mr. Andrewes, leading me away without +waiting for an answer. "I'm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> sure you must be hungry, and the dog too. +What's his name, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Rubens," said I.</p> + +<p>"Does he paint?" Mr. Andrewes inquired. But as I knew nothing of +Painter Peter Paul Rubens or his works, I was only puzzled, and said +he knew a good many tricks which I had taught him.</p> + +<p>"We'll see if he can beg for chicken-bones," said the parson, +hospitably; and indoors we went. Mr. Andrewes said grace, though not +in the words to which I was accustomed, and we sat down together, +Rubens lying by my chair. I endeavoured to conduct myself with the +strictest propriety, and I believe succeeded, except for the trifling +mischance of spilling some bread-sauce on to my jacket. Mr. Andrewes +saw this, however, and wanted to fasten a table-napkin round me, to +which I objected.</p> + +<p>"Too like a pinafore, eh?" said he, with a sly laugh.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I ought to wear pinafores now," I said, in a grave and +injured tone. "Leo Damer doesn't, and he's not much older than I am. +But I think," I added, candidly, "he rather does as he likes, because +he's got nobody to look after him."</p> + +<p>The parson laughed, and then gave a heavy sigh.</p> + +<p>"I wish my mother could come back, and tie a pinafore round my neck!" +he exclaimed, abruptly. Then I believe he suddenly remembered that I +had lost my mother and was vexed with himself for his hasty speech. I +saw nothing inconsiderate in the remark, however, and only said,</p> + +<p>"Is your mother dead?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my boy. Many years ago," said Mr. Andrewes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did your father marry anybody else?" I inquired.</p> + +<p>"My father died before my mother."</p> + +<p>"Dear me," said I; "how very sad! Leo's father and mother died +together. They were drowned in his father's yacht." I was in the +middle of a history of my friend Leo, and of my visit to London, when +a bell pealed loudly through the house.</p> + +<p>"Somebody's in a hurry," said Mr. Andrewes; "that's the front-door +bell."</p> + +<p>In three minutes the dining-room door was opened, and the servant +announced "Mr. Dacre." It would be untrue to say that I did not feel a +little guilty when my father walked into the room. And yet I had not +really thought there was "any harm" in my expedition. I think I was +chiefly annoyed by the ignominious end of it. It was trying, after +"dropping in" and "taking luncheon" like a grown-up gentleman, to be +fetched home as a lost child.</p> + +<p>"What could make you run away like this, Regie?" said my poor +bewildered parent. "Mrs. Bundle is nearly mad with fright. It was very +naughty of you. What were you thinking of?"</p> + +<p>"I thought I would drop in," I explained. And in the pause resulting +from my father's astonishment at my absurd and old-fashioned +demeanour, I proceeded with Nurse Bundle's definition as well as I +could recollect it in my confusion, and speak it for impending tears. +"So I came, and Rubens came, and Mr. Andrewes was in the garden, and +we sat down, to change the weather, and pass time like, and Mr. +Andrewes was in the garden, and he gave me some flowers, and Mr. +Andrewes asked me in, and I came in, and he gave me some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> luncheon and +he asked Rubens to have some bones, and—"</p> + +<p>"'Change the weather and pass time like,'" muttered my father. +"Servants' language! oh, dear!"</p> + +<p>In my vexation with things in general, and with the strong feeling +within me that I was in the wrong, I seized upon the first grievance +that occurred to me as an excuse for fretfulness, and once more quoted +Nurse Bundle.</p> + +<p>"It's so very quiet at home," I whimpered, with tears in my eyes, +which had really no sort of connection with the dulness of the Hall, +or with anything whatever but offended pride and vexation on my part.</p> + +<p>Ah! How many a stab one gives in childhood to one's parents' tenderest +feelings! I did not mean to be ungrateful, and I had no measure of the +pain my father felt at this hint of the insufficiency of all he did +for my comfort and pleasure at home. Mr. Andrewes knew better, and +said, hastily,</p> + +<p>"Just the love of novelty, Mr. Dacre. We have been children +ourselves."</p> + +<p>My father sighed, and sitting down, drew me towards him with one hand, +stroking Rubens with the other, in acknowledgment of his greeting and +wagging tail. Then I saw that he was hurt. Indeed, I fancied tears +were in his eyes as he said,</p> + +<p>"So poor Papa and home are too dull—too quiet, eh, Regie? And yet +Papa does all he can for his boy."</p> + +<p>My fit of ill-temper was gone in a moment, and I flung my arms round +my father's neck—Rubens taking flying leaps to join in the embrace, +after a fashion common with dogs, and decidedly dangerous to eyes, +nose, and ears. And as I kissed my father,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> and was kissed by Rubens, +I gave a candid account of my expedition. "No, dear papa. It wasn't +that. Only Nurse said country places were quiet, and in towns people +dropped in, and passed time, and changed the weather, and if she was +in Oakford she would drop in and see her sister. And so I said it +would be very nice. And so I thought this morning that Rubens and I +would drop in and see Mr. Andrewes. And so we did; and we didn't tell +because we wanted to come alone, for fun."</p> + +<p>With this explanation the fullest harmony was restored; and my father +sat down whilst Mr. Andrewes and I finished our luncheon and Rubens +had his. I gave an account of the garden in terms glowing enough to +satisfy the pride of the warmest horticulturist, and my father +promised a new rake, and drank a glass of sherry to the success of my +"gardening without a gardener."</p> + +<p>But as we were going away I overheard him saying to Mr. Andrewes,</p> + +<p>"All the same, a boy can't be with a nurse for ever. She has every +good quality, except good English. And he is not a baby now. One +forgets how time passes. I must see about a tutor."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>NURSE BUNDLE IS MAGNANIMOUS—MR. GRAY—AN EXPLANATION WITH MY FATHER</h3> + + +<p>Naturally enough, I did my best to give Nurse Bundle a faithful +account of my attempt to realize her idea of "dropping in," with all +that came of it. My garden projects, the arrival of my father, and all +that he said and did on the occasion. From my childish and confused +account, I fancy that Nurse Bundle made out pretty correctly the state +of the case. Being a "grown-up person," she probably guessed, without +difficulty, the meaning of my father's concluding remarks. I think a +good, faithful, tender-hearted nurse, such as she was, must suffer +with some of a mother's feelings, when it is first decided that "her +boy" is beyond petticoat government. Nurse Bundle cried so bitterly +over this matter, that my most chivalrous feelings were roused, and I +vowed that "Papa shouldn't say things to vex my dear Nursey." But Mrs. +Bundle was very loyal.</p> + +<p>"My dear," said she, wiping her eyes with her apron, "depend upon it, +whatever your papa settles on is right. He knows what's suitable for a +young gentleman; and it's only likely as a young gentleman born and +bred should outgrow to be beyond what an old woman like me can do for +him. Though there's no tutors nor none of them will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> ever love you +better than poor Nurse Bundle, my deary. And there's no one ever has +loved you better, my dear, nor ever will—always excepting your dear +mamma, dead and gone."</p> + +<p>All this stirred my feelings to the uttermost, and I wept too, and +vowed unconquerable fidelity to Nurse Bundle, and (despite her +remonstrances) unconquerable aversion from the tutor that was to be. I +furthermore renewed my proposals of marriage to Mrs. Bundle,—the +wedding to take place "when I should be old enough."</p> + +<p>This set her off into fits of laughing; and having regained her good +spirits, she declared that "she wouldn't have, no, not a young squire +himself, unless he were eddicated accordingly;" and this, it was +evident could only be brought about through the good offices of a +tutor. And to the prospective tutor (though he was to be her rival) +she was magnanimously favourable, whilst I, for my part, warmly +opposed the very thought of him. But neither her magnanimity nor my +unreasonable objections were put to the test just then.</p> + +<p>Several days had passed since I and Rubens "dropped in" at the +Rectory, and I was one morning labouring diligently at my garden, when +I saw Mr. Andrewes, in his canonical coat and shoes, coming along the +drive, carrying something in his hand which puzzled me. As he came +nearer, however, I perceived that it was a small wheelbarrow, gaily +painted red within and green without. At a respectful distance behind +him walked Jones, carrying a garden-basket full of plants on his head.</p> + +<p>Both the wheelbarrow and the plants were for me—a present from the +good-natured parson. He was helping me to plant the flower-roots, and +giving me a lecture on the sparing use of the wheel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>barrow, when my +father joined us, and I heard him say to Mr. Andrewes, "I should like +a word with you, when you are at liberty."</p> + +<p>I do not know what made me think that they were talking about me. I +did, however, and watched them anxiously, as they passed up and down +the drive in close consultation. At last I heard Mr. Andrewes say—</p> + +<p>"The afternoon would suit me best; say an hour after luncheon."</p> + +<p>This remark closed the conversation, and they came back to me. But I +had overheard another sentence from Mr. Andrewes' lips, which filled +me with disquiet,</p> + +<p>"I know of one that will just suit you; a capital little fellow."</p> + +<p>So the tutor was actually decided upon. "'A capital little fellow.' +That means a nasty fussy little man!" I cried to myself. "I hate him!"</p> + +<p>For the rest of that day, and all the next, I worried myself with +thoughts of the new tutor. On the following morning, I was standing +near one of the lodges with my father, looking at some silver +pheasants, when Mr. Andrewes rode by, and called to my father.</p> + +<p>Now, living as I did, chiefly with servants, and spending much more of +my leisure than was at all desirable between the stables and the +housekeeper's room, my sense of honour on certain subjects was not +quite so delicate as it ought to have been. With all their many +merits, uneducated people and servants have not—as a class—strict +ideas on absolute truthfulness and honourable trustworthiness in all +matters. A large part of the plans, hopes, fears, and quarrels of +uneducated people are founded on what has been overheard by folk who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +were not intended to hear it, and on what has been told again by those +to whom a matter was told in confidence. Nothing is a surer mark of +good breeding and careful "upbringing" (as the Scotch call it) than +delicacy on those little points which are trusted to one's honour. But +refinement in such matters is easily blunted if one lives much with +people who think any little meanness fair that is not found out. I +really saw no harm in trying to overhear all that I could of the +conversation between my father and Mr. Andrewes, though I was aware, +from their manner, that I was not meant to hear it. I lingered near my +father, therefore, and pretended to be watching the pheasants, for a +certain instinct made me feel that I should not like my father to see +me listening. He was one of those highly, scrupulously honourable +gentlemen, before whose face it was impossible to do or say anything +unworthy or mean.</p> + +<p>He spoke in low tones, so that I lost most of what he said; but the +parson's voice was a peculiarly clear one, and though he lowered it, I +heard a good deal.</p> + +<p>"I saw him yesterday," was Mr. Andrewes' first remark.</p> + +<p>("That's the tutor," thought I.)</p> + +<p>My father's answer I lost; but I caught fragments of Mr. Andrewes' +next remarks, which were full of information on this important matter.</p> + +<p>"Quite young, good-tempered—little boy so fond of him, nothing would +have induced them to part with him; but they were going abroad."</p> + +<p>Which sounded well; but I suspected the parson of a good deal of +officious advice in a long sentence, of which I only caught the words, +"Can't begin too early."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> + +<p>I felt convinced, too, that I heard something about the "use of the +whip," which put me into a fever of indignation. Just as Mr. Andrewes +was riding off, my father asked some question, to which the reply +was—"Gray."</p> + +<p>My head was so full of the tutor that I could not enjoy the stroll +with my father as usual, and was not sorry to get back to Nurse +Bundle, to whom I confided all that I had heard about my future +teacher.</p> + +<p>"He's a nasty little man," said I, "not a nice tall gentleman like +Papa or Mr. Andrewes. And Mr. Andrewes saw him yesterday. And Mr. +Andrewes says he's young. And he says he's good-natured; but then what +makes him use whips? And his name is Mr. Gray. And he says the other +little boy was very fond of him, but I don't believe it," I continued, +breaking down at this point into tears, "and they've gone abroad +(sobs) and I wish—boohoo! boohoo—they'd taken <i>him</i>!"</p> + +<p>With some trouble Nurse Bundle found out the meaning of my rather +obscure speech. Her wrath at the thought of a whip in connection with +her darling was quite as great as my own. But she persisted in taking +a hopeful view of Mr. Gray, and trusting loyally to my father's +judgment, and she succeeded in softening my grief for the time.</p> + +<p>When I came down to dessert that evening I pretended to be quite happy +and comfortable, and to have nothing on my mind. But happily few +children are clever at pretending what is not true, and as I was +constantly thinking about "that dreadful tutor," and puzzling over the +scraps of conversation I had heard to see if anything more could be +made out of them, my father soon found out that something was amiss.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Regie?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, Father," I replied, with a very poor imitation of +cheerfulness and no approach to truth.</p> + +<p>"My dear boy," said my father, frowning slightly (a thing I always +dreaded), "do not say what is untrue, for any reason. If you do not +want to tell me what troubles you, say, 'I'd rather not tell you, +please,' like a man, and I will not persecute you about it. But don't +say there is nothing the matter when your little head is quite full of +something that bothers you very much. As I said, I will not press you, +but as I love you, and wish to help you in every way I can, I think +you had better tell me."</p> + +<p>Now, though I had really not thought I was doing wrong in listening to +the conversation I was not meant to hear, a <i>something</i> which one +calls conscience made me feel ashamed of the whole matter. I had a +feeling of being in the wrong, which is apt to make one vexed and +fretful, and it was this, quite as much as fear of my grave father, +which made the colour rush to my face, and the tears into my eyes.</p> + +<p>"Come, Regie," he said, "out with it. Don't cry, whatever you do; +that's like a baby. Have you been doing something wrong? Tell me all +about it. Confession is half way to forgiveness. Don't be afraid of +me. For heaven's sake, don't be afraid of me!" added my father, with +impatient sadness, and the frown deepening so rapidly on his face that +my tears flowed in proportion.</p> + +<p>(How sad are the helpless struggles of a widowed father with young +children, I could not then appreciate. How seldom successful is the +alternative of a second marriage, has become proverbial in excess of +the truth.)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> + +<p>My father was more patient than many men. He did not dismiss me and my +tears to the nursery in despair. With the insight and tenderness of a +mother he restrained himself, and unknitting his brows, held out both +his hands and said very kindly,</p> + +<p>"Come and tell poor Papa all about it, my darling."</p> + +<p>On which I jumped from my chair, and rushing up to him, threw my arms +about his neck and sobbed out, "Oh, Papa! Papa! I don't want him."</p> + +<p>"Don't want <i>whom</i>, my boy?"</p> + +<p>"M-m-m-m-r. Gray," I sobbed.</p> + +<p>"And who on earth is Mr. Gray, Regie?" inquired my perplexed parent.</p> + +<p>"The tutor—the new tutor," I explained.</p> + +<p>"But <i>whose</i> new tutor?" cried the distracted gentleman, whose +confusion seemed in no way lessened when I added,</p> + +<p>"Mine, Papa; the one you're going to get for me." And as no gleam of +intelligence yet brightened his puzzled face, I added, doubtfully, +"You are going to get one, aren't you, Papa?"</p> + +<p>"What put this idea into your head, Regie?" asked my father, after a +pause.</p> + +<p>And then I had to explain, feeling very uncomfortable as I did so, how +I had overheard a few words at the Rectory, and a few words more at +the lodge, and how I had patched my hearsays together and made out +that a certain little man was coming to be my tutor, who had +previously been tutor somewhere else, and that his name was Gray. And +all this time my father did not help me out a bit by word or sign. By +the time I had got to the end of my story of what I had heard, and +what I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> guessed, and what Nurse Bundle and I had made out, I did +not need any one to tell me that to listen to what one is not intended +to hear is a thing to be ashamed of. My cheeks and ears were very red, +and I felt very small indeed.</p> + +<p>"Now, Regie," said my father, "I won't say what I think about your +listening to Mr. Andrewes and me, in order to find out what I did not +choose to tell you. You shall tell me what you think, my boy. Do you +think it is a nice thing, a gentlemanly thing, upright, and honest, +and worthy of Papa's only son, to sneak about listening to what you +were not meant to hear. Now don't begin to cry, Reginald," he added, +rather sharply; "you have nothing to cry for, and it's either silly or +ill-tempered to whimper because I show you that you've done wrong. +Anybody may do wrong; and if you think that you have, why say you're +sorry, like a man, and don't do so any more."</p> + +<p>I made a strong effort to restrain my tears of shame and vexation, and +said very heartily—</p> + +<p>"I'm very sorry, Papa. I didn't think of it's being wrong."</p> + +<p>"I quite believe that, my boy. But you see that it's not right now, +don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes!" I exclaimed, "and I won't listen any more, father." We made +it up lovingly, Rubens flying frantically at our heads to join in the +kisses and reconciliation. He had been anxiously watching us, being +well aware that something was amiss.</p> + +<p>"I don't mean to tell you what Mr. Andrewes and I <i>were</i> talking +about," said my father, "because I did not wish you to hear. But I +will tell you that you made a very bad guess at the secret. We were +not talking of a tutor, or dreaming of one, and you have vexed +yourself for nothing. How<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>ever, I think it serves you right for +listening. But we won't talk of that any more."</p> + +<p>I do not think Nurse Bundle was disposed to blame me as much as I now +blamed myself; but she was invariably loyal to my father's decisions, +and never magnified her own indulgence in the nursery by pitying me if +I got into scrapes in the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"My dear," said she, "your Pa's a gentleman, every inch of him. You +listen to him, and try and do as he does, and you'll grow up just such +another, and be a pride and blessing to all about you."</p> + +<p>But we both rejoiced that at any rate our fears were unfounded in +reference to the much-dreaded Mr. Gray.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE REAL MR. GRAY—NURSE BUNDLE REGARDS HIM WITH DISFAVOUR</h3> + + +<p>My feelings may therefore be "better imagined than described" when, at +about ten o'clock the following morning, my father called me +downstairs, and said, with an odd expression on his face,</p> + +<p>"Regie, Mr. Gray has come."</p> + +<p>Not for one instant did I in my mind accuse my father of deceiving me. +My faith in him was as implicit as he well deserved that it should be. +Black might be white, two and two might make five, impossible things +might be possible, but my father could not be in the wrong. It was +evident that I must have misunderstood him last night. I looked very +crestfallen indeed.</p> + +<p>My father, however, seemed particularly cheerful, even inclined to +laugh, I thought. He took my hand and we went to the front door, my +heart beating wildly, for I was a delicate unrobust lad yet, far too +easily upset and excited. More like a girl, in fact, if the comparison +be not an insult to such sturdy maids as Cousin Polly.</p> + +<p>Outside we found a man-servant on a bay horse, holding a little white +pony, on which, I supposed, the little tutor had been riding. But he +himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> was not to be seen. I tried hard to be manly and calm, and +being much struck by the appearance of the pony, who, when I came down +the steps, had turned towards me the gentlest and most intelligent of +faces, with a splendid long curly white forelock streaming down +between his kind dark eyes, I asked—</p> + +<p>"Is that Mr. Gray's pony, father?"</p> + +<p>"What do you think of it?" said my father.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's a little dear," was my emphatic answer, and as the pony +unmistakably turned his head to me, I met his friendly advances by +going up to him, and in another moment my arms were round his neck, +and he was rubbing his soft, strong nose against my shoulder, and we +were kissing and fondling each other in happy forgetfulness of +everything but our sudden friendship, whilst the man-servant +(apparently an Irishman) was firing off ejaculations like crackers on +the fifth of November.</p> + +<p>"Sure, now, did ever anyone see the like—just to look at the +baste—sure he knows it's the young squire himself entirely. Och, but +the young gintleman's as well acquainted with horses as myself—sure +he'd make friends with a unicorn, if there was such an animal; and +it's the unicorn that would be proud to let him, too!"</p> + +<p>"It has been used to boys, I think?" said my father.</p> + +<p>"Ye may say that, yer honour. It likes boys better than man, woman, or +child, and it's not every baste ye can say that for."</p> + +<p>"A good many beasts have reason to think very differently, I fear," +said my father.</p> + +<p>"And <i>that's</i> as true a word as your honour ever spoke," assented the +groom.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + +<p>Meanwhile a possible ground of consolation was beginning to suggest +itself to my mind.</p> + +<p>"Will Mr. Gray keep his pony here?" I asked,</p> + +<p>"The pony will live here," said my father.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you think," I asked, "do you think, that if I am very good, +and do my lessons well, Mr. Gray will sometimes let me ride him? He +<i>is</i> such a darling!" By which I meant the pony, and not Mr. Gray. My +father laughed, and put his hand on my shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I have only been teasing you, Regie," he said. "You know I told you +there was no tutor in the case. Mr. Andrewes and I were talking about +this pony, and when Mr. Andrewes said <i>grey</i>, he spoke of the colour +of the pony, and not of anybody's name."</p> + +<p>"Then is the pony yours?" I asked.</p> + +<p>My father looked at my eager face with a pleased smile.</p> + +<p>"No, my boy," he said, "he is yours."</p> + +<p>The wild delight with which I received this announcement, the way I +jumped and danced, and that Rubens jumped and danced with me, my +gratitude and my father's satisfaction, the renewed amenities between +myself and my pony, his obvious knowledge of the fact that I was his +master, and the running commentary of the Irishman, I will not attempt +to describe.</p> + +<p>The purchase of this pony was indeed one of my father's many kind +thoughts for my welfare and amusement. My odd pilgrimage to the +Rectory in search of change and society, and the pettish complaints of +dulness and monotony at home which I had urged to account for my freak +of "dropping in," had seemed to him not without a certain serious +foundation. Except for walks about the farm with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> him, and stolen +snatches of intercourse with the grooms, and dogs, and horses in the +stables (which both he and Nurse Bundle discouraged), I had little or +no amusement proper to a boy of my age. I was very well content to sit +with Rubens at Mrs. Bundle's apron-string, but now and then I was, to +use an expressive word, <i>moped</i>. My father had taken counsel with Mr. +Andrewes, and the end of it all was that I found myself the master of +the most charming of ponies, with the exciting prospect before me of +learning to ride. The very thought of it invigorated me. Before the +Irish groom went away I had asked if my new steed "could jump." I +questioned my father's men as to the earliest age at which young +gentlemen had ever been allowed to go out hunting, within their +knowledge. I went to bed to dream of rides as wild as Mazeppa's, of +hairbreadth escapes, and of feats of horsemanship that would have +amazed Mr. Astley. And hopes and schemes so wild that I dared not +bring them to the test of my father's ridicule, I poured with pride +into Nurse Bundle's sympathetic ear.</p> + +<p>Dear, good, kind Nurse Bundle! She was indeed a mother to me, and a +mother's anxieties and disappointments were her portion. The effect of +her watchful constant care of my early years for me, was whatever good +there was about me in health or manners. The effect of it for her was, +I believe, that she was never thoroughly happy when I was out of her +sight. In these circumstances, it seemed hard that when most of my +infantile diseases were over, when I was just becoming very +intelligent (the best company possible, Mrs. Bundle declared), when I +wore my clothes out reasonably, and had exchanged the cries which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +exercise one's lungs in infancy for rational conversation by the +nursery fireside, I should be drawn away from nurse and nursery almost +entirely. It was right and natural, but it was hard. Nurse Bundle felt +it so, but she never complained. When she felt it most, she only said, +"It's all just as it should be." And so it was. Boys and ducklings +must wander off some time, be mothers and hens never so kind! The +world is wide, and duck-ponds are deep. The young ones must go alone, +and those who tremble most for their safety cannot follow to take care +of them.</p> + +<p>I really shrink from realizing to myself what Nurse Bundle must have +suffered whilst I was learning to ride. The novel exercise, the +stimulus of risk, that "put new life into me," were to her so many +daily grounds for the sad probability of my death.</p> + +<p>"Every blessed afternoon do I look to see him brought home on a +shutter, with his precious neck broken, poor lamb!" she exclaimed one +afternoon, overpowered by the sight of me climbing on to the pony's +back, which performance I had brought her downstairs to witness, and +endeavoured to render more entertaining and creditable by secretly +stimulating the pony to restlessness, and then hopping after him with +one foot in the stirrup, in what I fancied to be a very knowing +manner.</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear Mrs. Bundle," said my father, smiling, "you kill him at +least three hundred and sixty-four times oftener in the course of the +year than you need. If he does break his neck, he can only do it once, +and you bewail his loss every day."</p> + +<p>"Now, Heaven bless the young gentleman, sir, and meaning no +disrespect, but don't ye go for to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> tempt Providence by joking about +it, and him perhaps brought a hopeless corpse to the side door this +very evening," said Mrs. Bundle, her red cheeks absolutely blanched by +the vision she had conjured up. Why, I cannot say, but she had fully +made up her mind that when I was brought home dead, as she believed +that, sooner or later, I was pretty sure to be, I should be brought to +the side-door. Now "the side-door," as it was called, was a little +door leading into the garden, and less used, perhaps, than any other +door in the house. Mrs. Bundle, I believe, had decided that in that +tragedy which she was constantly rehearsing, the men who should find +my body would avoid the front-door, to spare my father the sudden +shock of meeting my corpse. The side-door, too, was just below the +nursery windows. Mrs. Bundle herself, would, probably, be the first to +hear any knocking at it, and she naturally pictured herself as taking +a prominent part in the terrible scene she so often fancied. It was +perhaps a good thing, on the whole, that she chose this door in +preference to those in constant use, otherwise every ring or knock at +the front or back door must have added greatly to her anxieties.</p> + +<p>I fear I did not do much to relieve them. I rather aggravated them. +Partly I believe in the conceit of showing off my own skill and +daring, and partly by way of "hardening" Mrs. Bundle's nerves. When +more knowledge, or longer custom, or stronger health or nerves, have +placed us beyond certain terrors which afflict other people, we are +apt to fancy that, by insisting upon their submitting to what we do +not mind, our nervous friends can or ought to be forced into the +unconcern which we feel ourselves; which is, perhaps,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> a little too +like dosing the patient with what happens to agree with the doctor.</p> + +<p>Thus I fondled my pony's head and dawdled ostentatiously at his heels +when Nurse Bundle was most full of fears of his biting or kicking. But +I feel sure that this, and the tricks I played to show the firmness of +my "seat," only made it seem to her the more certain that, from my +recklessness, I must some day be bitten, kicked, or thrown.</p> + +<p>I had several falls, and one or two narrow escapes from more serious +accidents, which, for the moment, made my father as white as Mrs. +Bundle. But he was wise enough to know that the present risks I ran +from fearlessness were nothing to the future risks against which +complete confidence on horseback would ensure me. And so with the +ordinary mishaps, and with days and hours of unspeakable and healthy +happiness, I learnt to ride well and to know horses. And poor Mrs. +Bundle, sitting safely at home in her rocking-chair, endured all the +fears from which I was free.</p> + +<p>"Now look, my deary," said she one day; "don't you go turning your +sweet face round to look up at the nursery windows when you're a +riding off. I can see your curls, bless them! and that's enough for +me. Keep yourself still, love, and look where you're a going, for in +all reason you've plenty to do with that. And don't you go a waving +your precious hand, for it gives me such a turn to think you've let +go, and have only got one hand to hold on with, and just turning the +corner too, and the pony a shaking its tail, and shifting about with +its back legs, till how you don't slip off on one side passes me +altogether."</p> + +<p>"Why, you don't think I hold on by my hands, do you?" I cried.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And what should you hold on with?" said Mrs. Bundle. "Many's the +light cart I've rode in, but never let go my hold, unless with one +hand, to save a bag or a bandbox. And though it's jolting, I'm sure a +light cart's nothing to pony-back for starts and unexpectedness."</p> + +<p>I tried in vain to make Nurse Bundle like my pony.</p> + +<p>"I've seen plenty of ponies!" she said, severely; by which she meant +not that she had seen many, but that what she had seen of them had +been more than enough. "My brother-in-law's first cousin had one—a +little red-haired beast—as vicious as any wild cat. It won a many +races, but it was the death of him at last, according to the +expectations of everybody. He was brought home on a shutter to his +family, and the pony grazing close by in the ditch as if nothing had +happened. Many's the time I've seen him on it expecting death as +little as yourself, and he refused twenty pound for it the Tuesday +fortnight before he was killed. But I was with his wife that's now his +widow when the body was brought."</p> + +<p>By the time that I heard this anecdote I was happily too good a rider +to be frightened by it; but I did wish that Mrs. Bundle's relative had +died any other death than that which formed so melancholy a precedent +in her mind.</p> + +<p>The strongest obstacle, however, to any chance of my nurse's looking +with favour on my new pet was her profound ignorance of horses and +ponies in general. Except as to colour or length of tail, she +recognized no difference between one and another. As to any +distinctions between "play" and "vice," a fidgety animal and a +determined kicker, a friendly nose-rub and a malicious resolve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> to +bite, they were not discernible by Mrs. Bundle's unaccustomed eyes.</p> + +<p>"I've seen plenty of ponies," she would repeat; "I know what they are, +my dear," and she invariably followed up this statement by rehearsing +the fate of her brother-in-law's cousin, sometimes adding—</p> + +<p>"He was very much giving to racing, and being about horses. He was a +little man, and suffered a deal from the quinsies in the autumn."</p> + +<p>"What a pity he didn't die of a quinsy instead of breaking his neck!" +I felt compelled to say one day.</p> + +<p>"He might have lived to have done that if it hadn't a been for the +pony," said Mrs. Bundle emphatically.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>I FAIL TO TEACH LATIN TO MRS. BUNDLE—THE RECTOR TEACHES ME</h3> + + +<p>I was soon to discover the whole of my father's plans with Mr. +Andrewes for my benefit. Not only had they decided that I was to have +a pony, and learn to ride, but it was also settled that I was to go +daily to the Rectory to "do lessons" with the Rector.</p> + +<p>I was greatly pleased. I had already begun Latin with my father, and +had vainly endeavoured to share my educational advantages with Mrs. +Bundle, by teaching her the first declension.</p> + +<p>"Musa, amuse," she repeated after me on this occasion.</p> + +<p>"Musae, of a muse," I continued.</p> + +<p>"<i>Of amuse!</i> There's no sense in that, my dearie," said Mrs. Bundle; +and as my ideas were not very well defined on the subject of the +muses, and as Mrs. Bundle's were even less so as to genders, numbers, +and cases, I reluctantly gave in to her decision that "Latin was very +well for young gentlemen, but good plain English was best suited to +the likes of her."</p> + +<p>She was greatly delighted, however, with a Latin valentine which I +prepared for her on the ensuing 14th of February, and caused to be +delivered by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> the housemaid, in an envelope with an old stamp, and +postmarks made with a pen and a penny. The design was very simple; a +heart traced in outline from a peppermint lozenge of that shape, which +came to me in an ounce of "mixed sweets" from the village shop. The +said heart was painted red and below it I wrote in my largest and +clearest handwriting, <i>Mrs. B. Amo te</i>. When the Latin was translated +for her, her gratification was great. At first she was put out by +there being only two Latin words to three English ones, but she got +over the difficulty at last by always reading it thus:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A mo te,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I love thee."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>My Latin had not advanced much beyond this stage when I began to go to +Mr. Andrewes every day.</p> + +<p>Thenceforward I progressed rapidly in my learning. Mr. Andrewes was a +good scholar, and (quite another matter) a good teacher; and I fancy +that I was not wanting in quickness or in willingness to work. But +Latin, and arithmetic, and geography, and the marvellous improvement +he soon made in my handwriting, were small parts indeed of all that I +owe to that good friend of my childhood. I suppose that—other things +being equal—children learn most from those who love them best, and I +soon found out that I was the object of a strangely strong affection +in my new teacher. The chief cause of this I did not then know, and +only learnt when death had put an end, for this life, to our happy +intercourse. But I had a child's complacent appreciation of the fact +that I was a favourite, and on the strength of it I haunted the +Rectory at all hours, confident of a welcome.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> I turned over the +Rector's books, and culled his flowers, and joined his rides, and made +him tell me stories, and tyrannized over him as over a docile +playfellow in a fashion that astonished many grown-up people who were +awed and repelled by his reserve and eccentricities, and who never +knew his character as I knew it till he could be known no more. But I +fancy that there are not a few worthy men who, shy and reserved, are +only intimately known by the children whom they love.</p> + +<p>I may say that not only did I owe much more than mere learning to Mr. +Andrewes, but that my regular lessons were a small part even of his +teaching.</p> + +<p>"It always seems to me," he said one day, when my father and I were +together at the Rectory, "that there are two kinds of learning more +neglected than they should be in the education of the young. Religious +knowledge, which, after all, concerns the worthiest part of every man, +and the longest share of his existence (to say nothing of what it has +to do with matters now); and the knowledge of what we call Nature, and +of all the laws which concern our bodies, and rule the conditions of +life in this world. It's a hobby of mine, Mr. Dacre, and I'm afraid I +ride my hobbies rather like a witch on a broomstick. But a man must +deal according to his lights and his conscience; and if I am intrusted +with the lad's education for a while, it will be my duty and pleasure +to instruct him in religious lore and natural science, so far as his +age allows. To teach him to know his Bible (and I wish all who have +the leisure were taught to read the Scriptures in the original +tongues). To teach him to know his Prayer-book, and its history. +Something, too, of the history of his Church, and of the faith in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +which better men than us have been proud to live, and for which some +have even dared to die."</p> + +<p>When the Rector became warm in conversation, his voice betrayed a +rougher accent than we commonly heard, and the more excited he became +the broader was his speech. It had got very broad at this point, when +my father broke in. "I trust him entirely to you, sir," he said; "but, +pardon me, I confess I am not fond of religious prodigies—children +who quote texts and teach their elders their duty; and Reginald has +quite sufficient tendency towards over-excitement of brain on all +subjects."</p> + +<p>"I quite agree with you," said Mr. Andrewes. "I think you may trust +me. I know well that childhood, like all states and times of +ignorance, is so liable to conceit and egotism, that to foster +religious self-importance is only too easy, and modesty and moderation +are more slowly taught. But if youth is a time when one is specially +apt to be self-conceited, surely, Mr. Dacre, it is also the first, the +easiest, the purest, and the most zealous in which to learn what is so +seldom learned in good time."</p> + +<p>"I dare say you are right," said my father.</p> + +<p>"People talk with horror of attacks on the faith as sadly +characteristic of our age," said the Rector, walking up and down the +study, and seemingly forgetful of my presence, if not of my father's, +"(which, by-the-bye, is said of every age in turn), but I fear the +real evil is that so few have any fixed faith to be attacked. It is +the old, old story. From within, not from without. The armour that was +early put on, that has grown with our growth, that has been a strength +in time of trial, and a support in sorrow, and has given grace to +joy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> will not quickly be discarded because the journals say it is +old-fashioned and worn-out. Life is too short for every man to prove +his faith theoretically, but it is given to all to prove its practical +value by experience, and that method of proof cannot be begun too +soon."</p> + +<p>"Very true," said my father.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why a man's religious belief (which is of course the +ground of his religious life) should be supposed to come to him +without the trouble of learning, any more than any other body of +truths and principles on which people act," Mr. Andrewes went on. "And +yet what religious instruction do young people of the educated classes +receive as a rule?—especially the boys, for girls get hold of books, +and pick up a faith somehow, though often only enough to make them +miserable and 'unsettled,' and no more. I often wonder," he added, +sitting down at the table with a laugh, "whether the mass of educated +men know less of what concerns the welfare of their souls, and all +therewith connected, or the mass of educated women of what concerns +their bodies, and all <i>therewith</i> connected. I feel sure that both +ignorances produce untold and dire evil!"</p> + +<p>"So theology and natural science are to be Regie's first lessons?" +said my father, drawing me to him.</p> + +<p>"I've been talking on stilts, I know," said Mr. Andrewes, smiling. +"We'll use simpler terms,—duty to <span class="smcap">God</span>, and duty to Man. One can't do +either without learning how, Mr. Dacre."</p> + +<p>I repeat this conversation as I have heard it from my father, since I +grew up and could understand it. Mr. Andrewes' educational theories +were duly put in practice for my benefit. In his efforts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> for my +religious education, Nurse Bundle proved an unexpected ally. When I +repeated to her some solemn truth which in his reverent and simple +manner he had explained to me; some tale he had told me of some good +man, whose example was to be followed; some bit of quaint practical +advice he had given me, or perhaps some hymn I had learned by his +side, the delight of the good old soul knew no bounds. She said it was +as good as a sermon; and as she was particularly fond of sermons, this +was a compliment. She used to beg me carefully to remember anything of +the kind that I heard, and when I repeated it, she had generally her +own word of advice to add, and wonderful tales with which to point the +moral,—tales of happy and unhappy deathbeds, of warnings, judgments, +and answers to prayer. Tales, too, of the charities of the poor, the +happiness of the afflicted, and the triumphs of the deeply tempted, +such as it is good for the wealthy, and healthy, and well-cared-for, +to listen to. Nurse Bundle's religious faith had a tinge of +superstition; that of Mr. Andrewes was more enlightened. But with both +it was a matter of every-day life, from which no hope or fear, no +sorrow or joy, no plan, no word or deed, could be separated.</p> + +<p>And however imperfectly, so it became with me. Like most children, I +had my own rather vivid idea of the day of judgment. The thought of +death was familiar to me. (It is seldom, I think, a painful one in +childhood.) I fully realized the couplet which concluded a certain +quaint old rhyme in honour of the four Evangelists which Nurse Bundle +had taught me to repeat in bed—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If I die before I wake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I pray the Lord my soul to take."<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>I used to recite a similar one when I was dressed in the morning—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If my soul depart to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A place in Paradise I pray."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>When I had had a particularly pleasant ride, or enjoyed myself much +during the day, I thanked <span class="smcap">God</span> specially in my evening prayers. I +remember that whatever I wished for I prayed for, in the complete +belief that this was the readiest way to obtain it. And it would be +untruth to my childish experience not to add that I never remember to +have prayed in vain. I also picked up certain little quaint +superstitions from Nurse Bundle, some of which cling to me still. +Neither she nor I ever put anything on the top of a Bible, and we +sometimes sat long in comical and uncomfortable silence because +neither of us would "scare the angel that was passing over the house." +When the first notes of the organ stirred the swallows in the church +eaves to chirp aloud, I believed with Mrs. Bundle that they were +joining in the Te Deum. And when sunshine fell on me through the +church windows during service, I regarded it as "a blessing."</p> + +<p>The other half of Mr. Andrewes' plan was not neglected. From him I +learnt (and it is lore to be thankful for) to use my eyes. He was a +good botanist, and his knowledge of the medicinal uses of wild herbs +ranked next to his piety to raise him in Mrs. Bundle's esteem. When +"lessons" were over, we often rode out together. As we rode through +the lanes, he taught me to distinguish the notes of the birds, to +observe what crops grow on certain soils, and at what seasons the +different plants flower and bear fruit. He made me see with my own +eyes, and hear with my own ears,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> for which I shall ever be grateful +to him. I fancy I can hear his voice now, saying in his curt cutting +fashion—</p> + +<p>"How silly it sounds to hear anybody with a head on his shoulders say, +'I never noticed it!' What are eyes for?"</p> + +<p>If I admired some creeper-covered cottage, picturesquely old and +tumble-down, he would ask me how many rooms I thought it contained—if +I fancied the roof would keep out rain or snow, and how far I supposed +it was convenient and comfortable for a man and his wife and six +children to live in. In some very practical problems which he once set +me, I had to suppose myself a labourer, with nine shillings a week, +and having found out what sum that would come to in half a year, to +write on my slate how I would spend the money, to the best advantage, +in clothing and feeding two grown-up people and seven children of +various ages. As I knew nothing of the cost of the necessaries of +life, I went, by Mr. Andrewes' advice, to Nurse Bundle for help.</p> + +<p>"What do beef and mutton cost?" was my first question, as I sat with +an important air at the nursery table, slate in hand.</p> + +<p>"Now bless the dear boy's innocence?" cried Mrs. Bundle. "You may +leave the beef and mutton, love. It's not much meat a family gets +that's reared on nine shillings a week."</p> + +<p>After a series of calculations for oatmeal-porridge, onion-potage, and +other modest dainties, during which Mrs. Bundle constantly fell back +on the "bits of things in the garden," I said decidedly—</p> + +<p>"They can't have any clothes, so it's no good thinking about it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Children can't be let go bare-backed," said Mrs. Bundle, with equal +decision. "She must take in washing. For in all reason, boots can't be +expected to come out of nine shillings a week, and as many mouths to +feed."</p> + +<p>"She must take in washing, sir," I announced with a resigned air, and +the old-fashioned gravity peculiar to me, when I returned to the +Rectory next day. "Boots can't come out of nine shillings a week."</p> + +<p>The Rector smiled.</p> + +<p>"And suppose one of the boys catches a fever, as you did; and they +can't have other people's clothes to the house, because of the +infection. And then there will be the doctor's bill to pay—what +then?"</p> + +<p>By this time I had so thoroughly realized the position of the needy +family, that I had forgotten it was not a real case, or rather, that +no special one was meant. And I begged, with tears in my eyes, that I +might apply the contents of my alms-box to paying the doctor's bill.</p> + +<p>Many a lesson like this, with oft-repeated practical remarks about +healthy situations, proper drainage, roomy cottages, and the like, was +engraven by constant repetition on my mind, and bore fruit in after +years, when the welfare of many labourers and their families was in my +hands.</p> + +<p>It is difficult to convey an idea of the learning I gained from my +good friend, and yet to show how free he was from priggishness, or +from always playing the schoolmaster. He was simply the most charming +of companions, who tried to raise me to his level, and interest me in +what he knew and thought himself, instead of coming down to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> me, and +talking the patronizing nonsense which is so often supposed to be +acceptable to children.</p> + +<p>Across all the years that have parted us in this life I fancy at times +that I see his grey eyes twinkling under their thick brows once more, +and hear his voice, with its slightly rough accent, saying—</p> + +<p>"<i>Think</i>, my dear lad, <i>think</i>! Pray learn to think!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE ASTHMATIC OLD GENTLEMAN AND HIS RIDDLES—I PLAY TRUANT AGAIN—IN THE BIG GARDEN</h3> + + +<p>It was perhaps partly because, like most only children, I was +accustomed to be with grown-up people, that I liked the way in which +Mr. Andrewes treated me, and resented the very different style of +another friend of my father, who always bantered me in a playful, +nonsensical fashion, which he deemed suitable to my years.</p> + +<p>The friend in question was an old gentleman, and a very benevolent +one. I think he was fond of children, and I am sure he was kind.</p> + +<p>He never came without giving me half-a-guinea before he left, +generally slipping it down the back of my neck, or hiding it under my +plate at dinner, or burying it in an orange. He had a whole store of +funny tricks, which would have amused and pleased me if I might have +enjoyed them in peace. But he never ceased teasing me, and playing +practical jokes on me. And the worst of it was, he teased Rubens also.</p> + +<p>Mr. Andrewes often afterwards told of the day when I walked into the +Rectory—my indignant air, he vowed, faithfully copied by the dog at +my heels, and without preface began:</p> + +<p>"I know I ought to forgive them that trespass<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> against us, but I +can't. He put cayenne pepper on to Rubens' nose."</p> + +<p>In justice to ourselves, I must say that neither Rubens nor I bore +malice on this point, but it added to the anxiety which I always felt +to get out of the old gentleman's way.</p> + +<p>By him I was put through those riddles which puzzle all childish +brains in turn: "If a herring and a half cost threehalfpence," etc. +And if I successfully accomplished this calculation, I was tripped up +by the unfair problem, "If your grate is of such and such dimensions, +what will the coals come to?" I can hear his voice now (hoarse from a +combination of asthma and snuff-taking) as he poked me jocosely but +unmercifully "under the fifth rib," as he called it, crying—</p> + +<p>"<i>Ashes</i>! my little man. D'ye see? <i>Ashes</i>! <i>Ashes</i>!"</p> + +<p>After which he took more snuff, and nearly choked himself with +laughing at my chagrin.</p> + +<p>Greatly was Nurse Bundle puzzled that night, when I stood, ready for +bed, fumbling with both hands under my nightshirt, and an expression +of face becoming a surgeon conducting a capital operation.</p> + +<p>"Bless the dear boy!" she cried. "What are you doing to yourself, my +dear?"</p> + +<p>"How does he <i>know</i> which is the fifth rib?" I almost howled in my +vexation. "I don't believe it <i>was</i> the fifth rib! I wish I <i>hadn't</i> a +fifth rib! I wish I might hurt <i>his</i> fifth rib!"</p> + +<p>I think the old gentleman would have choked with laughter if he could +have seen and heard me.</p> + +<p>One day, to my father's horror, I candidly remarked,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It always makes me think of the first of April, sir, when you're +here."</p> + +<p>I did not mean to be rude. It was simply true that the succession of +"sells" and practical jokes of which Rubens and I were the victims +during his visits did recall the tricks supposed to be sacred to the +Festival of All Fools.</p> + +<p>To do the old gentleman justice, he heartily enjoyed the joke at his +own expense; laughed and took snuff in extra proportions, and gave me +a whole guinea instead of half a one, saying that I should go to live +with him in Fools' Paradise, where little pigs ran about ready roasted +with knives and forks in their backs; adding more banter and nonsense +of the same kind, to the utter bewilderment of my brain.</p> + +<p>He was the occasion of my playing truant to the Rectory a second time. +Once, when he was expected, I took my nightshirt from my pillow, and +followed by Rubens, presented myself before the Rector as he sat at +breakfast, saying, "Mr. Carpenter is coming, and we can't endure it. +We really can't endure it. And please, sir, can you give us a bed for +the night? And I'm very sorry it isn't a clean one, but Nurse keeps +the nightgowns on the top shelf, and I didn't want her to know we were +coming."</p> + +<p>Mr. Andrewes kept me with him for some hours, but he persuaded me to +return and meet the old gentleman, saying that it was only due to his +real kindness to bear with his little jokes; and that I ought to try +and learn to make allowances, and "put up with" things that were not +quite to my mind. So I went back, and partly because of my efforts to +be less easily annoyed, and partly because I was older than at his +latest visit, and knew all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> the riddles, and could see through his +jokes more quickly, I got on very well with him.</p> + +<p>Very glad I was afterwards that I had gone back and spent a friendly +evening with the kind old man; for the following spring his asthma +became worse and worse, and he died. That visit was his last to us. He +teased me and Rubens no more. But when I heard of his death, I felt +what I said, that I was very sorry. He had been very kind and his +pokes and jokes were trifles to look back upon.</p> + +<p>Mr. Andrewes kept up his interest in my garden. Indeed, I soon got +beyond the childish way of gardening; I ceased to use my watering-pot +recklessly, and to take up my plants to see how they were getting on. +I was promoted from my little beds to some share in the large +flower-garden. My father was very fond of his flowers, and greatly +pleased to find me useful.</p> + +<p>Some of the happiest hours I ever spent were those in which I worked +with him in "the big garden;" Rubens lying in the sun, keeping +imaginary guard over my father's coat. We had a friendly rivalry with +the Rectory, in which I felt the highest interest. Sometimes, however, +I helped Mr. Andrewes himself, when he rewarded me with plants and +good advice. The latter often in quaint rhymes, such as</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This rule in gardening never forget,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sow dry, and to set wet."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But after a time, and to my deep regret, Mr. Andrewes gave up the care +of my education. He said his duties in the parish did not allow of his +giving much time to me; and though my father had no special wish to +press my studies, and was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> more anxious for the benefit of the +Rector's influence, Mr. Andrewes at last persuaded him that he ought +to get a resident tutor and prepare me for a public school.</p> + +<p>By this time I had almost forgotten my foolish prejudice against the +imaginary Mr. Gray, and was only sorry that I could no longer do +lessons with the Rector.</p> + +<p>I suppose it was in answer to some inquiries that he made that my +father heard of a gentleman who wanted such a situation as ours. He +heard of him from Leo Damer's guardian, and the gentleman proved to be +the very tutor whom I had seen from the nursery windows of Aunt +Maria's house. He had remained with Leo ever since, but as Leo's +guardian had now sent him to school, the tutor was at liberty.</p> + +<p>In these circumstances, I felt that he was not quite a stranger, and +was prepared to receive him favourably.</p> + +<p>Indeed, when his arrival was close at hand, Nurse Bundle and I took an +hospitable pleasure in looking over the arrangements of his room, and +planning little details for his comfort.</p> + +<p>He came at last, and my father was able to announce to Aunt Maria (who +had never approved of what she called "Mr. Andrewes' desultory style +of teaching") that my education was now placed in the hands of a +resident tutor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>THE TUTOR—THE PARISH—A NEW CONTRIBUTOR TO THE ALMS-BOX</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Clerke was a small, slight, fair man. He was short-sighted, which +caused him to carry a round piece of glass about the size of a penny +in his waistcoat pocket, and from time to time to stick this into his +eye, where he held it in a very ingenious, but, as it seemed to me, +dangerous fashion.</p> + +<p>It took me quite a fortnight to get used to that eye-glass. It was +like a policeman's bull's-eye lantern. I never knew when it might be +turned on me. Then the glass had no rim, the edges looked quite sharp, +and the reckless way in which the tutor held it squeezed between his +cheek and eyebrow was a thing to be at once feared and admired.</p> + +<p>I was sitting over my Delectus one morning, unwillingly working at a +page which had been set as a punishment for some offence, with my +hands buried in my pockets, fumbling with halfpence and other +treasures there concealed, when, seeing my tutor stick his glass into +his eye as he went to the bookcase, I pulled out a halfpenny to try if +I could hold it between cheek and brow, as he held his glass. After +many failures, I had just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> triumphantly succeeded when he caught sight +of my reflection in a mirror, and seeing the halfpenny in my eye, my +chin in air, and my face puckered up with what must have been a +comical travesty of his own appearance, he concluded that I was +mimicking him, and defying his authority, and coming quickly up to me +he gave me a sharp box on the ear.</p> + +<p>In the explanation which followed, he was candid enough to apologize +handsomely for having "lost his temper," as he said; and having +remitted my task as an atonement, took me out fishing with him.</p> + +<p>We got on very well together. At first I think my old-fashioned ways +puzzled him, and he was also disconcerted by the questions which I +asked when we were out together. Perhaps he understood me better when +he came to know Mr. Andrewes, and learned how much I had been with +him.</p> + +<p>He had a very high respect for the Rector. The first walk we took +together was to call at the Rectory. We stayed luncheon, and Mr. +Andrewes had some conversation with the tutor which I did not hear. As +we came home, I was anxious to learn if Mr. Clerke did not think my +dear friend "very nice."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Andrewes is a very remarkable man," said the tutor. And he +constantly repeated this. "He is a very remarkable man."</p> + +<p>After a while Mr. Clerke ceased to be put out by my asking strange +unchildish questions which he was not always able to answer. He often +said, "We will ask Mr. Andrewes what he thinks;" and for my own part, +I respected him none the less that he often honestly confessed that he +could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> not, off-hand, solve all the problems that exercised my brain. +He was not a good general naturalist but he was fond of geology, and +was kind enough to take me out with him on "chipping" expeditions, and +to start me with a "collection" of fossils. I had already a collection +of flowers, a collection of shells, a collection of wafers, and a +collection of seals. (People did not collect monograms and old stamps +in my young days.) These collections were a sore vexation to Nurse +Bundle.</p> + +<p>"Whatever a gentleman like the Rector is thinking of, for to encourage +you in such rubbish, my dear," said she, "it passes me! It's vexing +enough to see dirt and bits about that shouldn't be, when you can take +the dust-pan and clear 'em away. But to have dead leaves, and weeds, +and stones off the road brought in day after day, and not be allowed +so much as to touch them, and a young gentleman that has things worth +golden guineas to play with, storing up a lot of stuff you could pick +off any rubbish-heap in a field before it's burned—if it was anybody +but you, my dear, I couldn't abear it. And what's a tutor for, I +should like to know?"</p> + +<p>(Mrs. Bundle, who at no time liked blaming her darling, had now +acquired a habit of laying the blame of any misdoings of mine on the +tutor, on the ground that he "ought to have seen to" my acting +differently.)</p> + +<p>If Mr. Clerke discovered that he could confess to being puzzled by +some of my questions, without losing ground in his pupil's respect, I +soon found out that my grown-up tutor had not altogether outlived +boyish feelings. It dimly dawned on me that he liked a holiday quite +as well, if not better than myself; and as we grew more intimate we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +had many a race and scramble and game together, when bookwork was over +for the day. He rode badly, but with courage, and the mishaps he +managed to suffer when riding the quietest and oldest of my father's +horses were food for fun with him as well as with me.</p> + +<p>He told me that he was going to be a clergyman, and on Sunday +afternoons we commonly engaged in strong religious discussions. During +the fruit season it was also our custom on that day to visit the +kitchen-garden after luncheon, where we ate gooseberries, and settled +our theological differences. There is a little low, hot stone seat by +one of the cucumber frames on which I never can seat myself now +without recollections of the flavour of the little round, hairy, red +gooseberries, and of a lengthy dispute which I held there with Mr. +Clerke, and which began by my saying that I looked forward to meeting +Rubens "in a better world." I distinctly remember that I could bring +forward so little authority for my belief, and the tutor so little +against it, that we adjourned by common consent to the Rectory to take +Mr. Andrewes' opinion, and taste his strawberries.</p> + +<p>I feel quite sure that Mr. Clerke, as well as myself, strongly felt +the Rector's influence. He often said in after-years how much he owed +to him for raising his aims and views about the sacred office which he +purposed to fill. He had looked forward to being a clergyman as to a +profession towards which his education and college career had tended, +and which, he hoped, would at last secure him a comfortable livelihood +through the interest of some of his patrons. But intercourse with the +Rector gave a higher tone to his ideas. He would have been a clergyman +of high character otherwise,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> but now he aimed at holiness; he would +never have been an idle one, but now his wish was to learn how much he +could do, and how well he could do that much for the people who should +be committed to his charge. He was by no means a reticent man, he +liked sympathy, and soon got into the habit of confiding in me for +want of a better friend. Thus as he began to take a most earnest +interest in parish work, and in schemes for the benefit of the people, +our Sunday conversations became less controversial, and we gossiped +about schools and school-treats, cricket-clubs, drunken fathers, +slattern mothers, and spoiled children, and how the evening hymn +"went" after the sermon on Sunday, like district visitors at a parish +tea-party. What visions of improvement amongst our fellow-creatures we +saw as we wandered about amongst the gooseberry-bushes, Rubens +following at my heels, and eating a double share from the lower +branches, since his mouth had not to be emptied for conversation! We +often got parted when either of us wandered off towards special and +favourite trees. Those bearing long, smooth green gooseberries like +grapes, or the highly-ripened yellows, or the hairy little reds. Then +we shouted bits of gossip, or happy ideas that struck us, to each +other across the garden. And full of youth and hopefulness, in the +sunshine of these summer Sundays, we gave ourselves credit for +clear-sightedness in all our opinions, and promised ourselves success +for every plan, and gratitude from all our protégés.</p> + +<p>Mr. Andrewes had started a Sunday School with great success (Sunday +Schools were novelties then), and Mr. Clerke was a teacher. At last, +to my great delight, I was allowed to take the youngest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> class, and to +teach them their letters and some of the Catechism.</p> + +<p>About this time I firmly resolved to be a parson when I grew up. My +great practical difficulty on this head was that I must, of course, +live at Dacrefield, and yet I could not be the Rector. My final +decision I announced to Mr. Andrewes.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Clerke and I will always be curates, and work under you."</p> + +<p>On which the tutor would sigh, and say, "I wish it could be so, Regie, +for I do not think I shall ever like any other place, or church, or +people so well again."</p> + +<p>At this time my alms-box was well filled, thanks to the liberality of +Mr. Clerke. He now taxed his small income as I taxed my pocket-money +(a very different matter!), and though I am sure he must sometimes +have been inconveniently poor, he never failed to put by his share of +our charitable store.</p> + +<p>Some brooding over the matter led me to say to him one Sunday, "You +and I, sir, are like the widow and the other people in the lesson +to-day: I put into the box out of my pocket-money, and you out of your +living."</p> + +<p>The tutor blushed painfully; partly, I think, at my accurate +comprehension of the difference between our worldly lots, and partly +in sheer modesty at my realizing the measure of his self-sacrifice.</p> + +<p>When first he began to contribute, he always kept back a certain sum, +which he as regularly sent away, to whom I never knew. He briefly +explained, "It is for a good object." But at last a day came when he +announced, "I no longer have that call upon me." And as at the same<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +time he put on a black tie, and looked grave for several days, I +judged that some poor relation, who was now dead, had been the object +of his kindness. He spoke once more on the subject, when he thanked me +for having led him to put by a fixed sum for such purposes, and added, +"The person to whom I have been accustomed to send that share of the +money said that it was worth double to have it regularly."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>THE TUTOR'S PROPOSAL—A TEACHERS' MEETING</h3> + + +<p>I think it was Mr. Clerke who first suggested that we should take the +Sunday scholars and teachers for a holiday trip. Such things are +matters of course now in every parish, but in my childhood it was +considered a most marvellous idea by our rustic population. The tutor +had heard of some extraordinarily active parson who had done the like +by his schools, and partly from real kindness, and partly in the +spirit of emulation which intrudes even upon schemes of benevolence, +he was most anxious that we at Dacrefield should not "be behindhand" +in good works. Competition is a feeling with which children have great +sympathy, and I warmly echoed Mr. Clerke's resolve that we would not +"be behindhand."</p> + +<p>"Let us go to the Rectory at once," said I; "Mr. Andrewes said we +might have some of those big yellow raspberries, and we must ask him +about it. It's a splendid idea. But where shall we go?"</p> + +<p>The matter resolved itself into this question. The Rector was quite +willing for the treat. My father gave us a handsome subscription; the +farmers followed the Squire's lead. Mr. Andrewes was not behindhand. +The tutor and I considered the object a suitable one for aid from our +alms-box.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> There was no difficulty whatever. Only—where were we to +go?</p> + +<p>Finally, we all decided that we would go to Oakford.</p> + +<p>It was not because Oakford had been the end of our consultation long +ago, after my illness, nor because Nurse Bundle had any voice in the +matter, it was a certain bullet-headed, slow-tongued old farmer, one +of our teachers, who voted for our going to Oakford; and more by +persistently repeating his advice than by any very strong reasons +there seemed to be for our following it, he carried the day.</p> + +<p>"I've know'd Oakford, man and boy, for twenty year," he repeated, at +intervals of three minutes or so, during what would now be called a +"teachers' meeting" in the school-room. In fact, Oakford was his +native place, though he was passing his old age in Dacrefield, and he +had a natural desire to see it again, and a natural belief that the +spot where he had been young and strong, and light-hearted, had +especial merits of its own.</p> + +<p>Even though we had nothing better to propose, old Giles' love for home +would hardly have decided us, but he had something more to add. There +was a "gentleman's place" on the outskirts of Oakford, which +sometimes, in the absence of the family, was "shown" to the public: +old Giles had seen it as a boy, and the picture he drew of its glories +fairly carried us away, the Rector and tutor excepted. They shrugged +their shoulders with faces of comical despair as the old man, having +fairly taken the lead, babbled on about the "picters," the "stattys," +and the "yaller satin cheers" in the grand drawing-room; whilst the +other teachers listened with open mouths, and an evident and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> growing +desire to see Oakford Grange. I did not half believe in old Giles' +wonders, and yet I wished to see the place myself, if only to learn +how much of all he described to us was true. I supposed that "the +family" must have been at home when I was at Oakford, or Mr. and Mrs. +Buckle would surely have taken me to see the Grange.</p> + +<p>The Rector suggested that the family might be at home now, and we +might have our expedition for nothing; but it appeared that old Giles' +sister's grandson had been over to see his great-uncle only a +fortnight ago, "come Tuesday," and had distinctly stated that the +family "was in furrin' parts," and would be so for months to come. +Moreover, he had said that there was a rumour that the place was to be +sold, and nobody knew if the next owner would allow it to be "shown," +even in his absence. Thus it was evident that if we wanted to see the +Grange, it must be "now or never."</p> + +<p>On hearing this, our fattest and richest farmer (he took an upper +class in school more in deference to his position than to the rather +scanty education which accompanied it) rose and addressed the Rector +as follows:—</p> + +<p>"Reverend sir. I takes the liberty of rising and addressin' of you, +with my respex to yourself and Mr. Clerke, and the young gentleman as +represents the Squire I've a-been tenant to, man and boy, this thirty +year and am proud to name it." (Murmurs of applause from one or two +other farmers present, my father being very popular.)</p> + +<p>"Reverend sir. I began with bird-scaring, and not a penny in my +pocket, that wouldn't have held coppers for holes, if I had, and +clothes that would have scared of themselves, letting alone clappers. +The Squire knows how much of his land I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> under my hand now, and +your reverence is acquainted with the years I've been churchwarden.</p> + +<p>"Reverend Sir. I am proud to have rose by my own exertions. I never +iggerantly set <i>my</i>self against improvements and opportoonities." +(Gloom upon the face of the teacher of the fourth class, who objected +to machinery, and disbelieved in artificial manures.) "<i>My</i> mottor 'as +allus been, 'Never lose a chance;' and that's what I ses on this +occasion; 'never lose a chance.'"</p> + +<p>As our churchwarden backed his advice by offering to lend waggons and +horses to take us to Oakford, if the other farmers would do the same, +his speech decided the matter. We all wanted to go to Oakford, and to +Oakford it was decided that we should go.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>OAKFORD ONCE MORE—THE SATIN CHAIRS—THE HOUSEKEEPER—THE LITTLE LADIES AGAIN—FAMILY MONUMENTS</h3> + + +<p>The expedition was very successful, and we all returned in safety to +Dacrefield; rather, I think, to the astonishment of some of the +good-wives of the village, who looked upon any one who passed the +parish bounds as a traveller, and thought our jaunt to Oakford +"venturesome" almost to a "tempting of Providence."</p> + +<p>It is a curious study to observe what things strike different people +on occasions of this kind.</p> + +<p>It was not the house itself, though the building was remarkably fine +(a modern erection on the site of the old "Grange"), nor the natural +features of the place, though they were especially beautiful, that +roused the admiration of our teachers and their scholars. Somebody +said that the house was "a deal bigger than the Hall" (at Dacrefield), +and one or two criticisms were passed upon the timber; but the noble +park, the grand slopes, the lovely peeps of distance, the exquisite +taste displayed in the grounds and gardens about the house, drew +little attention from our party. Within, the succession of big rooms +became confusing. One or two bits in certain pictures were pronounced +by the farmers "as natteral as life;" the "stattys" rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +scandalized them, and the historical legends attached by the +housekeeper to various pieces of furniture fell upon ears too little +educated to be interested. But when we got to the big drawing-room the +yellow satin chairs gave general and complete satisfaction. When old +Giles said, "Here they be!" we felt that all he had told us before was +justified, and that we had not come to Oakford in vain. We stroked +them, some of the more adventurous sat upon them, and we echoed the +churchwarden's remark, "Yaller satin, sure enough, and the backs +gilded like a picter-frame."</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pic_7" id="pic_7"></a> +<img src="images/image_156.jpg" alt=""All together, if you please!"" width="500" height="822" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"All together, if you please!"</span></p> +<p>I cannot but think that the housekeeper must have had friends visiting +her that day, which made our arrival inconvenient and tried her +temper—she was so very cross. She ran through a hasty account of each +room in injured tones, but she resented questions, refused +explanations, and was particularly irritable if anybody strayed from +the exact order in which she chose to marshal us through the house. A +vein of sarcasm in her remarks quite overpowered our farmers.</p> + +<p>"Please to stand off the walls. There ain't no need to crowd up +against them in spacyous rooms like these, and the paper ain't one of +your cheap ones with a spotty pattern as can be patched or matched +anywhere. It come direct from the Indies, and the butterflies and the +dragons is as natteral as life. 'Whose picter's that in the last +room?' You should have kept with the party, young woman, and then +you'd 'ave knowed. Parties who don't keep with the party, and then +wants the information repeated, will be considered as another party, +and must pay accordingly. Next room, through the white door to the +left. Now, sir, we're a-waiting for you! All together, if you +please!"</p> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> + +<p>But in spite of the good lady, I generally managed to linger behind, +or run before, and so to look at things in my own way. Once, as she +was rehearsing the history of a certain picture, I made my way out of +the room, and catching sight of some pretty things through an open +door at the end of the passage, I went in to see what I could see. +Some others were following me when the housekeeper spied them, and +bustled up, angrily recalling us, for the room, as we found, was a +private <i>boudoir</i>, and not one of those shown to the public. In my +brief glance, however, I had seen something which made me try to get +some information out of the housekeeper, in spite of her displeasure.</p> + +<p>"Who are those little girls in the picture by the sofa?" I asked. +"Please tell me."</p> + +<p>"I gives all information in reference to the public rooms," replied +the housekeeper, loftily, "as in duty bound; but the private rooms is +not in my instructions."</p> + +<p>And nothing more could I get out of her to explain the picture which +had so seized upon my fancy.</p> + +<p>It was a very pretty painting—a modern one. Just the heads and +shoulders of two little girls, one of them having her face just below +that of the other, whose little arms were round her sister's neck. I +knew them in an instant. There was no mistaking that look of decision +in the face of the protecting little damsel, nor the wistful appealing +glance in the eyes of the other. The artist had caught both most +happily; and though the fair locks I had admired were uncovered, I +knew my little ladies of the beaver bonnets again.</p> + +<p>Having failed to learn anything about them from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> the housekeeper, I +went to old Giles and asked him the name of the gentleman to whom the +place belonged.</p> + +<p>"St. John," he replied.</p> + +<p>"I suppose he has got children?" I continued.</p> + +<p>"Only one living," said old Giles. "They do say he've buried six, most +on 'em in galloping consumptions. It do stand to reason they've had +all done for 'em that gold could buy, but afflictions, sir, they be as +heavy on the rich man as the poor; and when a body's time be come it +ain't outlandish oils nor furrin parts can cure 'em."</p> + +<p>I wondered which of the quaint little ladies had died, and whether +they had taken her to "furrin parts" before her death; and I thought +if it were the grey-eyed little maid, how sad and helpless her little +sister must be.</p> + +<p>"Only one left?" I said mechanically.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," said old Giles; "and he be pretty bad, I fancy. They've got +him in furrin parts where the sun shines all along; but they do say he +be wild to get back home, but that'll not be, but in his coffin, to be +laid with the rest in the big vault. Ay, ay, affliction spares none, +sir, nor yet death."</p> + +<p>So this last of the St. John family was a boy. If the little ladies +were his sisters, both must be dead; if not, I did not know who they +were. I felt very angry with the housekeeper for her sulky reticence. +I was also not highly pleased by her manner of treating me, for she +evidently took me for one of the Sunday-school boys. I fear it was +partly a shabby pride on this point which led me to "tip" her with +half-a-crown on my own account when we were taking leave. In a moment +she became civil to slavishness, hoped I had enjoyed myself, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +professed her willingness to show me anything about the place any day +when there were not so "many of them school children crowging and +putting a body out, sir. There's such a many common people comes, +sir," she added, "I'm quite wored out, and having no need to be in +service, and all my friends a-begging of me to leave. I only stays to +oblige Mr. St. John."</p> + +<p>It was, I think, chiefly in the way I had of thinking aloud that I +said, more to myself than to her, "I'm sure I don't know what makes +him keep you, you do it so very badly. But perhaps you're +respectable."</p> + +<p>The half-crown had been unexpected, and this blow fairly took away her +breath. Before her rage found words, we were gone.</p> + +<p>I did not fail to call on Mr. and Mrs. Buckle. The shop looked just +the same as when I was there with Mrs. Bundle. One would have said +those were the very rolls of leather that used to stand near the door. +The good people were delighted to see me, and proud to be introduced +to Mr. Andrewes and my tutor. I had brought some little presents with +me, both from myself and Nurse Bundle, which gave great satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"And where is Jemima?" I asked, as I sat nursing an imposing-looking +parcel addressed to her, which was a large toilette pincushion made +and ready furnished with pins for her by Mrs. Bundle herself.</p> + +<p>"Now, did you ever!" cried Mrs. Buckle in her old style; "to think of +the young gentleman's remembering our Jemima, and she married to Jim +Espin the tinsmith this six months past."</p> + +<p>So to the tinsmith's I went, and Jemima was, as she expressed it, +"that pleased she didn't know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> where to put herself," by my visit. She +presented me with a small tin lantern on which I had made some remark, +and which pleased me well. I saw the drawer of farthing wares also, +and might have had a flat iron had I been so minded; but I was too old +now to want it for a plaything, and too young yet to take it as a +remembrance of the past.</p> + +<p>I asked Mrs. Buckle about the two little beaver-bonneted ladies, but +she did not help me much. She did not remember them. They might be Mr. +St. John's little girls; he had buried four. A many ladies wore beaver +bonnets then. This was all she could say, so I gave up my inquiries. +It was as we were on our way from the Buckles to join the rest of the +party that Mr. Clerke caught sight of the quaint little village +church, and as churches and church services were matters of great +interest to us just then, the two parsons, the churchwarden, five +elder scholars and myself got the key from the sexton and went to +examine the interior.</p> + +<p>It was an old and rather dilapidated building. The glass in the east +window was in squares of the tint and consistency of "bottle glass," +except where one fragment of what is technically known as "ruby" bore +witness that there had once been a stained window there. There were +dirty calico blinds to do duty for stained glass in moderating the +light; dirt, long gathered, had blunted the sharpness of the tracery +on the old carved stalls in the chancel, where the wood-worms of +several generations had eaten fresh patterns of their own, and the +squat, solemn little carved figures seemed to moulder under one's +eyes. In the body of the church were high pews painted white, and four +or five old tombs with life-size recumbent figures fitted in oddly +with these, and a skimpy looking prayer-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>desk, pulpit, and font, which +were squeezed together between the half-rotten screen and a stone +knight in armour.</p> + +<p>"Pretty tidy," said our churchwarden, tapping of the pews with a +patronising finger; "but bless and save us, Mr. Andrewes, sir, the +walls be disgraceful dirty, and ten shillings' worth of lime and +labour would make 'em as white as the driven snow. The sexton says +there be a rate, and if so, why don't they whitewash and paint a bit, +and get rid of them rotten old seats, and make things a bit decent? +You don't find a many places to beat Dacrefield, sir, go as far as you +will," he added complacently, and with an air of having exhausted +experience in the matter of country churches.</p> + +<p>"Them old figures," he went on, "they puts me in mind of one my father +used to tell us about, that was in Dacrefield Church. A man with a +kind of cap on his face, and his feet crossed, and very pointed toes, +and a sword by his side."</p> + +<p>"At Dacrefield?" cried Mr. Andrewes; "surely there isn't a Templar at +Dacrefield?"</p> + +<p>"It were in the old church that came down," continued the +churchwarden, "in the old Squire's time. There was a deal of ancient +rubbish cleared out then, sir, I've heard, and laid in the stackyard +at the Hall. It were when my father were employed as mason under +'brick and mortar Benson,' as they called him, for repairs of a wall, +and they were short of stones, and they chipped up the figure I be +telling you of. My father allus said he knowed the head was put in +whole, and many's the time I've looked for it when a boy."</p> + +<p>I think Mr. Andrewes could endure the churchwarden's tale of former +destructiveness no longer, and he abruptly called us to come away. I +was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> just running to join the rest at the door, when my eye fell upon +a modern tablet of marble above a large cushioned pew. Like the other +monuments in the church, it was sacred to the memory of members of the +St. John family, and, as I found recorded the names of the wife and +six children of the present owner of the estate. Very pathetic, after +the record of such desolation, were the words of Job (cut below the +bas-relief at the bottom, which, not very gracefully, represented a +broken flower): "The <span class="smcap">Lord</span> gave, and the <span class="smcap">Lord</span> hath taken away: blessed +be the name of the <span class="smcap">Lord</span>."</p> + +<p>Mr. Clerke was hurrying back up the church to fetch me as I read the +text. I had just time to see that the last two names were the names of +girls, before I had to join him.</p> + +<p>Amy and Lucy. Were those indeed the dainty little children who such a +short time ago were living, and busy like myself, happy with the +tinsmith's toys, and sad for a drenched doll? Wild speculations +floated through my head as I followed the tutor, without hearing one +word of what he was saying about tea and teachers, and reaching +Dacrefield before dark.</p> + +<p>I had wished to be their brother. Supposing it had been so, and that I +were now withering under the family doom, homesick and sick unto death +"in furrin parts!" My last supposition I thought aloud:</p> + +<p>"I suppose they know all the old knights, and those people in ruffs, +with their sons and daughters kneeling behind them, now. That is, if +they were good, and went to heaven."</p> + +<p>"<i>Who</i> do you suppose know the people in the ruffs?" asked the +bewildered tutor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Amy and Lucy St. John," said I; "the children who died last."</p> + +<p>"Well, Regie, you certainly <i>do</i> say <i>the</i> most <i>sin</i>gular things," +said Mr. Clerke.</p> + +<p>But that was a speech he often made, with the emphasis as it is given +here.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>NURSE BUNDLE FINDS A VOCATION—RAGGED ROBIN'S WIFE—MRS. BUNDLE'S IDEAS ON HUSBANDS AND PUBLIC-HOUSES</h3> + + +<p>I was very happy under Mr. Clerke's sway, and yet I was glad to go to +school.</p> + +<p>The tutor himself, who had been "on the foundation" at Eton, had +helped to fill me with anticipations of public-school life. It was +decided that I also should go to Eton, but as an oppidan, and becoming +already a partisan of my own part of the school, I often now disputed +conclusions or questioned facts in my tutor's school anecdotes, which +commonly tended to the sole glorification of the "collegers."</p> + +<p>I must not omit to mention an interview that about this period took +place between my father and Mrs. Bundle. It was one morning just after +the Eton matter had been settled, that my nurse presented herself in +my father's library, her face fatter and redder than usual from being +swollen and inflamed by weeping.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said my father, looking up pleasantly from his accounts. But +he added hastily, "Why, bless me, Mrs. Bundle, what is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Asking your pardon for troubling you, sir," Nurse Bundle began in a +choky voice, "but as you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> made no mention of it yourself, sir, your +kindness being what it is, and the young gentleman as good as gone to +school, and me eating the bread of idleness ever since that tutor +come, I wished to know, sir, when you thought of giving me notice."</p> + +<p>"Give you notice to do what?" asked my father.</p> + +<p>"To leave your service, sir," said Mrs. Bundle, steadily. "There's no +nurse wanted in this establishment now, sir."</p> + +<p>My father laid one hand on Mrs. Bundle's shoulder, and with the other +he drew forward a miniature of my mother which always hung on a +standing frame on the writing-table.</p> + +<p>"It is like yourself to be so scrupulous," he said; "but you will +never again speak of leaving us, Mrs. Bundle. Please, for her sake," +added my father, his own voice faltering as he looked towards the +miniature. As for Nurse Bundle, her tears utterly forbade her to get +out a word.</p> + +<p>"If you have too much to do," my father went on, "let a young girl be +got to relieve you of any work that troubles you; or, if you very much +wish for a home to yourself, I have no right to refuse that, though I +wish you could be happy under my roof, and I will see about one of +those cottages near the gate. But you will not desert me—and +Reginald—after so many years."</p> + +<p>"The day I do leave will be the breaking of my heart," sobbed Nurse +Bundle, "and if there was any ways in which I could be useful—but +take wages for nothing, I could not, sir."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Bundle," said my father, "if your wages were a matter of any +importance to me, if I could not afford even to pay you for your work, +I should still ask you to share my home, with such comforts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> as I had +to offer, and to help me so far as you could, for the sake of the +past. I must always be under an obligation to you which I can never +repay," added my father, in his rather elaborate style. "And as to +being useful, well, ahem, if you will kindly continue to superintend +and repair my linen and Master Reginald's ——"</p> + +<p>"Why, bless your innocence, sir, and meaning no disrespect," said Mrs. +Bundle, "but there ain't no mending in <i>your</i> linen. There was some +darning in the tutor's socks, but you give away half-a-dozen pair last +Monday, sir, as hadn't a darn in 'em no bigger than a pea."</p> + +<p>I think it was the allusion to "giving away" that suggested an idea to +my father in his perplexity for employing Nurse Bundle.</p> + +<p>"Stay," he exclaimed, "Mrs. Bundle, there is a way in which you could +be of the greatest service to me. I often feel that the loss of a lady +at the head of my household must be especially felt among the poor +people around us—additionally so, as Mr. Andrewes is not married, and +there is no lady either at the Rectory or here to visit the sick and +encourage the mothers and children. I fear that when I do anything for +them it is often in a wrong way, or for wrong objects."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," said Mrs. Bundle, an old grievance rushing to her mind, +"I had thought myself of making so bold as to speak to you about that +there Tommy Masden as you give half-crowns to, as tells you one big +lie on the top of another, and his father drinks every penny he earns, +and his mother at the back-door all along for scraps, and throwed the +Christmas soup to the pig, and said they wasn't come to the workus +yet; and a coat as good as new of yours, sir, hanging out of the door<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +of the pawnshop, and giving me such a turn I thought my legs would +never have carried me home, till I found you'd given it to that Tommy, +who won't do a hand's turn for sixpence, but begs at every house in +the parish every week as comes round, and tells everybody, as he tells +yourself, sir, that he never gets nothing from nobody."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said my father, laughing, "you see how I want somebody +to look out the real cases of distress and deserving poverty. Of +course, I must speak to Mr. Andrewes first, Mrs. Bundle, but I am sure +he will be as glad as myself that you should do what we have neither +of us a wife to undertake."</p> + +<p>I know Nurse Bundle was only too glad to reconcile her honest +conscience to staying at Dacrefield; and I think the allusion to the +lack of a lady head to our household decided her at all risks to +remove that reason for a second Mrs. Dacre. Moreover, the duties +proposed for her suited her tastes to a shade.</p> + +<p>Mr. Andrewes was delighted. And thus it came about that, though my +father would have been horrified at the idea of employing a Sister of +Mercy, and though Bible-woman and district visitor were names not +familiar in our simple parochial machinery, Mrs. Bundle did the work +of all three to the great benefit of our poor neighbours.</p> + +<p>Not, however, to the satisfaction of those who had hitherto leant most +upon the charity of the Hall. A certain picturesquely tattered man, +living at some distance from the village, who was in the habit of +waylaying my father at certain points on the estate, with well-timed +agricultural remarks and a cunning affectation of half-wittedness and +good-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>humour, got henceforward no half-crowns for his pains.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Bundle has knocked off all my pensioners," my father would +laughingly complain. But he was quite willing that the half-crowns +should now be taken direct to the man's wife and children, instead of +passing from his hands to the public-house. "Though really the good +woman—for I understand she is a most excellent person—is singularly +hard-favoured," my father added, "and looks more as if she thrashed +old Ragged Robin than as if he beat her, as I hear he does."</p> + +<p>"Nothing inside, and the poker outside, makes a many women as they've +no wish to sit for their picter," said Mrs. Bundle, severely, in reply +to some remark of mine, reflecting, like my father's, on the said +woman's appearance. "And when a woman has children, and their father +brings home nothing but kicks and bad language, in all reason if it +isn't the death or the ruin of her, it makes her as she 'asn't much +time nor spirits to spare for dropping curtseys and telling long tales +like some people as is always scrap-seeking at gentry's back-doors. +But I knows a clean place when I takes it unawares, and clothes with +more patch than stuff, and all the colour washed out of them, and +bruises hid, and a bad husband made the best of, and children as knows +how to behave themselves."</p> + +<p>The warmth of Mrs. Bundle's feelings only prompted me to tease her; +and it was chiefly for "the fun of working her up" that I said—</p> + +<p>"Ah, but, Nurse, you know we heard she went after him one night to the +public-house, and made a row before everybody. I don't mean he ought +to go to the public-house, but still, I'm sure if I'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> a wife who came +and hunted me up when she thought I ought to be indoors, I'd—well, +I'd try and teach her to stay at home. Besides, women ought to be +gentle, and perhaps if she were sweeter-tempered with him, he'd be +kinder to her."</p> + +<p>"Do you know what she went for, Master Reginald?" said Nurse Bundle. +"Not a halfpenny does he give her to feed the children with, and +everything in that house that's got she gets by washing. And the rich +folk she washed for kept her waiting for her money—more shame to 'em; +there was weeks run on, and she borrowed a bit, and pawned a bit, and +when she went the day they said they'd pay her, he'd been before and +drawed the money, and was drinking it up when she went to see if she +could get any, and then laughed at her, and sent her back to the +children as was starving, and the neighbour she'd borrowed of as +called her a thief and threatened to have her up. Gentle! why, bless +your innocence, who ever knowed gentleness do good to a drunkard? She +should have stood up to him sooner, and he'd never have got so bad. +She's kept his brute ways to herself and made his home comfortable +with her own earnings, till he thinks he may do anything and never +bring in nothing. She did lay out some of his behaviour before him +that day, and he beat her for it afterwards. But if it had been me, +Master Reginald, I'd have had money to feed them children, or I'd have +fought him while I'd a bit of breath in my body."</p> + +<p>And with all my respect for Nurse Bundle, I am bound to say that I +think she would have been as good as her word.</p> + +<p>"Go to your tutor, my dear," she continued, "and talk Latin and Greek +and such like, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> you knows about; but don't talk rubbish about +pretty looks and ways for a woman as is tied to a drunkard, for I +can't abear it. I seed enough of husbands and public-houses in my +young days to keep me a single woman and my own missis. Not but what +I've had my feelings like other folk, and plenty of offers, besides a +young cabinet-maker as had high wages and the beautifullest complexion +you ever saw. But he was overfond of company; so I went to service, +and cried myself to sleep every night for three months; and when next +I see him he was staggering along the street, and I says, 'I'm sorry +to see you like this, William,' and he says, 'It's your doing, Mary; +your No's drove me to the glass.' And I says, 'Then it's best as it +is. If one No drove you to the glass, you and married life wouldn't +suit, for there's plenty of Noes there.' So I left him wiping his +eyes, for he always cried when he was in beer. And I says to myself, +'I'll go back to place, where I knows what I'm working for, and can +leave it if we don't suit.' And it was always the same, my dear. If it +was a nice-looking footman, he'd have his evening out and come home +fresh; and if it was an elderly butler as had put a little by, he +wanted to set up in the public line. So I kept myself to myself, my +dear, for I'm short-tempered at the best, and could never put up with +the abuse of a man in liquor."</p> + +<p>I was so thoroughly converted to the side of Ragged Robin's wife, that +I at once pressed some of my charity money on Mrs. Bundle for her +benefit; but I tried to dispute my nurse's unfavourable view of +husbands by instancing her worthy brother-in-law at Oakford.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, Buckle," said Mrs. Bundle, in a tone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> which seemed to do +less justice to the saddler's good qualities than they deserved. "He's +a good, soft, easy body, is Buckle."</p> + +<p>Whence I concluded that Mrs. Bundle, like some other ladies, was not +altogether easy to please.</p> + +<p>I think it was during our last walk through the village before Mr. +Clerke left us, that he and I called on Ragged Robin's wife. She was +thankful, but not communicative, and the eyes, deep set in her bony +and discoloured face, seemed to have lost the power of lighting up +with hope.</p> + +<p>"My dear Regie," said Mr. Clerke, as we turned homewards, "I never saw +anything more pitiable than the look in that woman's eyes; and the +tone in which she said, 'There be a better world afore us all, +sir—I'll be well off then,' when I said I hoped she'd be better off +and happier now, quite went to my heart. I'm afraid she never will +have much comfort in this world, unless she outlives her lord and +master. Do you know, Regie, she reminds me very much of an ill-treated +donkey; her bones look so battered, and there's a sort of stubborn +hopelessness about her like some poor Neddy who is thwacked and tugged +this way and that, work he never so hard. Poor thing, she may well +look forward to Heaven," added my tutor, whose kind heart was very +sore on this subject, "and it's a blessed thought how it will make up, +even for such a life here!"</p> + +<p>"What will make it up to the donkeys?" I asked, taking Mr. Clerke at a +disadvantage on that standing subject of dispute between us—a "better +world" for beasts.</p> + +<p>But my tutor only said, "My dear Regie, you <i>do</i> say <i>the</i> most +<i>sin</i>gular things!" which, as I pointed out, was no argument, one way +or another.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> + +<p>Meanwhile, through Mrs. Bundle, we did our best for Robin's wife and +certain other ill-treated women about the place. Mrs. Bundle could be +very severe on the dirt and discomfort which "drove some men to the +public as would stay at home if there was a clean kitchen to stay in, +and less of that nagging at a man and screaming after children as +never made a decent husband nor a well-behaved child yet." Yet in +certain cases of undeserved brutality, like Robin's, I fear she +sometimes counselled resistance, on the principle that it "couldn't +make him do worse, and might make him do better."</p> + +<p>I am sure that my father had never thought of Mrs. Bundle acting as +sick nurse in the village; but matters seemed to develop of +themselves. She was so experienced and capable that she could hardly +fail to smoothe the disordered bed-clothes, open the window, clear the +room of the shiftless gossips who flocked like ravens to predict +death, and take the control of mismanaged sick-rooms. It came to be a +common thing that some wan child should present itself at our door +with the message that "Missis Bundle she wants her things, for as +mother be so bad, she says she'll see her over the night."</p> + +<p>As for herself, I doubt if she had ever been happier in her life. Her +conscience was at ease, for she certainly worked hard enough for her +wages, and it was good to see the glow of pleasure that an +oft-repeated remark of my father's never failed to bring over her +honest face.</p> + +<p>"Don't overwork yourself, Mrs. Bundle. What should we do if you were +laid up?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3>I GO TO ETON—MY MASTER—I SERVE HIM WELL</h3> + + +<p>I went joyfully to school the first time, but each succeeding half +with less and less willingness. And yet my school-days were very happy +ones, especially to look back upon.</p> + +<p>"You will be in the same tutor's house as Lionel Damer," said my +father; "and I have written to ask him to befriend you."</p> + +<p>"Just the sort of idiotic thing parents do do," said Sir Lionel, on +our first meeting. "You may thank your stars I don't pay you off for +it."</p> + +<p>Leo had grown much taller since we met, but he had lost none of his +beauty. I was overpowered by his noble appearance and the air of +authority he wore, and then and there gave him the hero-worship of my +heart. It was with a thrill of delight that I heard him add, "However, +I want a fag, and I dare say I can take you. Any sock with you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Leo," said I, hastily; "a big hamper. And there are two +cakes, and a pigeon pie, and lots of jam, and some macaroons and +turnovers, and two bottles of raspberry vinegar."</p> + +<p>"My name's Damer," said Leo. "Can you cook?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet, Damer," said I, hoping that my answer conveyed my +willingness to learn. For I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> was quite prepared for all the duties of +fag life from Mr. Clerke's descriptions. And I was prepared to perform +them, pending the time when I should have a fag of my own.</p> + +<p>I must do Leo justice. His tyranny was merciful. I was soon expert in +preparing his breakfast. I used to fetch him hot dishes from the shop. +My own cooking was not good, and I made, so he said, the most +execrable coffee, which led him to fling the contents of the pot at me +one morning, ruining my shirt, trickling hot and wet down my body +under my clothes, and giving me infinite trouble in cleaning his +carpet. (As to <i>his</i> coffee, and the salad dressing he made, and his +cooking generally, when he chose to do it, I have never met with +anything like it since. However, things taste well in one's +school-days.)</p> + +<p>Leo Damer was one of those people who seem able to do everything just +a little better than his neighbours, without attaining overwhelming +superiority in any one line. The masters always complained that he did +not do as much in school as he might have done, and yet he stood well +with them. His conduct was of the highest. I may say here that, +knowing him intimately in boyhood and youth, I am able to assert that +his moral conduct was always "without reproach." His own freedom from +vice, and the tight hand he kept over me, who lived but to admire and +imitate him, were of such benefit to me in the manifold temptations of +school-life as I can never forget. His self-respect amounted to +self-esteem, his love for other people's good opinion to a failing, he +was refined to fastidiousness; but I think these characteristics +helped him towards the exceptional character he bore. A keen +sensitiveness to pain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> and discomfort, and considerable natural +indolence, further tended to keep him out of scrapes into which an +adventurous spirit led many more reckless boys. He had never been +flogged, and he said he never would be. "I would drown myself sooner," +he said to me. And if any dark touch were wanting to complete my +hero's portrait, it was given by this terrible threat, in which I put +full faith.</p> + +<p>He was a dandy, and his dressing-table was the plague of my life. Well +do I remember breaking some invaluable toilette preparation on it, and +the fit of rage in which he flung the broken bottle at my head. He was +very sorry when his first wrath was past, and he bound up my head, and +gave me a pound of sausages, and a superbly bound copy of Young's +"Night Thoughts," which I still possess. I also retain a white scar +above one of my eyes, in common with at least eight out of every ten +men I know.</p> + +<p>"Do you ever hear from your cousin?" Sir Lionel asked one day in +careless tones.</p> + +<p>"Polly writes to me sometimes," said I.</p> + +<p>"You can show me the next letter you get," said Sir Lionel +condescendingly; which I accordingly did, and thenceforward he saw all +my letters from her. I was soon clever enough to discover that Leo +liked to be asked after by his old friends, and to receive messages +from them, which led me to write to Polly, begging her always to send +"nice messages" to Sir Lionel, as he would then treat me well, and +perhaps give me some of his smoked bacon for breakfast. Her reply was +characteristic:</p> + +<p class="sig2">"<span class="smcap">My dear Regie</span>,—"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p><div class="blockquot"><p>I shan't send nice messages to Leo. I am sorry you showed +him the letter where I said he was handsome. Handsome is +that handsome does, and if he treats you badly he is very +ugly, and I hate him. If he doesn't give you any bacon, he's +very mean. You may tell him what I say.</p></div> + +<p class="sig1">"I am your affectionate cousin,</p> + +<p class="sig5">"<span class="smcap">Polly</span>."</p> + +<p>I was obliged to hide this letter from Leo; but when he asked me if I +had heard from Polly I could not lie to him, and he sent me to +Coventry for withholding the letter. I bore a day and a half of his +silence and neglect; then I could endure it no longer, and showed him +the letter. He was less angry than I expected. He coloured and +laughed, and called me a little fool for writing such stuff to Polly, +and said her answer was just like her. Then he gave me some of the +bacon, and we were good friends again.</p> + +<p>But the seal of our friendship was a certain occasion when I saved him +from the only flogging with which he was ever threatened.</p> + +<p>He was unjustly believed to be concerned in an insolent breach of +certain orders, and was sentenced to a flogging which was really the +due of another lad whom he was too proud to betray. He would not even +condescend to remonstrate with the boy who was meanly allowing him to +suffer, and betrayed his anguish in the matter so little that I doubt +if the real culprit (who never was a week unflogged himself) had any +idea what the punishment was to poor Leo.</p> + +<p>He hid himself from us all; but in the evening I got into his room, +where I found him, pale and silent, putting some things into a little +bag.</p> + +<p>"Little one!" he cried, "I know you can keep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> a secret. I want you to +help me off. I'm going to run away."</p> + +<p>"Oh Damer!" I cried; "but supposing you're caught; it'll be much worse +then."</p> + +<p>"They won't catch me," he said, his lip quivering. "I can disguise +myself. And I shall never come back till I'm a man. My guardian would +bring me here again. He thinks a man can hardly be a gentleman unless +he was well flogged in his youth. Look here old fellow, I've left +everything here to you. Keep out of mischief as I've shown you how, +and—and—you'll tell Polly I wasn't to blame."</p> + +<p>I was now weeping bitterly. "Dear Damer," said I, "you can't disguise +yourself. Anybody would know you; you're too good-looking. Damer," I +added abruptly, "did you ever pray for things? I used to at home, and +do you know, they always came true. Wait for me, I'll be back soon," I +concluded, and rushing to my room, I flung myself on my knees, and +prayed with all my heart for the averting of this, to my young mind, +terrible tragedy. I dared not stay long, not knowing what Leo might +do, and on the stairs I met the real culprit, who was in our house. To +this day I remember with amusement the flood of speech with which, in +my excitement, I overwhelmed him. I painted his meanness in the +darkest colours, and the universal contempt of his friends. I made him +a hero if he took his burden on his own back. I dwelt forcibly on +Leo's bitter distress and superior generosity. I bribed him to confess +all with my many-weaponed pocket-knife (the envy of the house). I +darkly hinted a threat of "blabbing" myself, as my meanness in telling +tales would be as nothing to his in allowing Leo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> to suffer for his +fault. Which argument prevailed I shall never know. I fancy Leo's +distress and the knife did it between them, for he was both +good-natured and greedy. He told the truth by a great effort, and took +his flogging with complete indifference.</p> + +<p>Thenceforward Leo and I were as brothers. He taught me to sketch, we +kept divers pets together, and fused our botanical collections. He +cooked unparalleled dishes for us, and read poetry aloud to me with an +exquisite justness and delicacy of taste that I have never heard +surpassed.</p> + +<p>His praise was nectar to me. When he said, "I tell you what, Regie, +you've an uncommon lot of general information, I can tell you," my +head was quite turned. Whatever he did seemed right to me. When I +first came to school, my hat was duly peppered and pickled by the boys +and replaced by me with one of unexceptionable shape. My shirts then +gave offence to my new master.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," he said, surveying me deliberately, "a good many of your +things are made by Mrs. Baggage?"</p> + +<p>"Nurse Bundle makes my shirts, Damer," said I.</p> + +<p>"It's all the same," said Damer. "I knew it was connected with a +<i>parcel</i> somehow. Well, the <i>Package</i> patterns are very pretty, no +doubt, but I think it's time you were properly rigged out."</p> + +<p>Which was duly done; and when holidays came and the scandalized Mrs. +Bundle asked what I had done "with them bran-new fine linen shirts," +and where "them rubbishing cotton rags" had come from that I brought +in their place, I could only inform her, with a feeble imitation of +Leo's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> lofty coolness, that I had used the first to clean Damer's +lamp, and that the second were the "correct thing."</p> + +<p>One day I said to him, "I don't know why, Damer, but you always make +me think of a vision of one of the Greek heroes when I see you walking +in the playing-fields."</p> + +<p>I believe my simply-spoken compliment deeply gratified him; but he +only said, like Mr. Clerke, "You <i>do</i> say the oddest things, little +'un!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3>COLLECTIONS—LEO'S LETTER—NURSE BUNDLE AND SIR LIONEL</h3> + + +<p>If Nurse Bundle hoped that when I went to school an end would be put +to the "collections" which troubled her tidy mind, she was much +deceived. Neither Leo nor I were bookworms, and we were not by any +means so devoted as some boys to games and athletics. But for +collections of all kinds we had a fancy that almost amounted to mania.</p> + +<p>Our natural history manias in their respective directions came upon us +like fevers. We "sickened" at the sight of somebody else's collection, +or because we had been reading about butterflies, or birds' eggs, or +water-plants, as the case might be. When "the complaint" was "at its +height," we lived only for specimens; we gave up leisure, sleep, and +pocket-money to our collection; we made notes and memoranda in our +grammars and lexicons that had no classical reference. We sent letters +to country newspapers which never appeared, and asked questions that +met with no reply. We were apt, also, to recover from these attacks, +leaving Nurse Bundle burdened with boxes or folios of dry, dusty +broken fragments of plants and insects, which we did not touch, but +which she was strictly forbidden to destroy. We pur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>sued our fancies +during the holidays. I have now a letter that I got from Damer after +my fourth half:</p> + +<p class="sig5">"London.</p> + +<p class="sig2">"<span class="smcap">My dear Regie</span>,—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>Eureka</i>! What do you think? My poor governor collected +moths. I bullied my guardian till he let me have the +collection. Such specimens! No end of foreign ones we know +nothing about, and I am having a case made. I found a little +book with his notes in. We are quite at sea to go flaring +about with nets and bruising the specimens. The way is to +dig for chrysalises. Mind you do; and how I envy you! For I +have to be in this horrid town, when I long to be grubbing +at the roots of trees. Polly quite agrees with me. She hates +London; and says the happiest time in her life was when she +was at Dacrefield. My only comfort is to go to the old +bookstalls and look for books about moths and butterflies. +Imagine! The other day when your aunt was out, I took Polly +with me. She said she would give anything on earth to go. So +we went. We went into some awful streets, and had some +oysters at a stall, and came back carrying no end of books; +and just as we got in at the door there were your aunt and +Lady Chelmsfield coming out. What a rage your aunt was in! I +tried to take all the blame, but she shut Polly up for a +fortnight. It's a beastly shame, but Polly says the +expedition was worth it; her spirit is splendid. I never +wrote such a long letter in my life before, but I am in the +blues, and have no one to talk to. I wish my poor governor +had lived. I wish I were in the country. I wish your aunt +was a moth. Wouldn't I pin her to a cork! Mind you work<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> up +old Mother Hubbard to a sumptuous provision of grub for next +half, and don't forget the other grubs. Would that I could +dig with thee for them. <i>Vale</i>!</p></div> + +<p class="sig6">"Thine ever,</p> + +<p class="sig1">"<span class="smcap">Lionel Damer</span>."</p> + +<p>Of course this ended in Leo's being invited to Dacrefield. He came, +and, wonderful to relate, we got Polly too. My father invited her and +my aunt to visit us, and they came. As Leo said, Aunt Maria "behaved +better than we expected." Indeed, Leo had no reason to complain of her +treatment of him as a rule, for he was constantly at the Ascotts' +house during his holidays.</p> + +<p>And so we rambled and scrambled about together, Leo, and Polly, and I. +And we added largely to our collections, and made a fernery (the +Rector helping us), and rode about the country, and were thoroughly +happy. We generally went to the nursery for a short time before +dressing for dinner, where we teased and coaxed Mrs. Bundle, and ate +large slices of an excellent species of gingerbread called +"parliament," which she kept in a tin case in the cupboard. In return +for these we entertained her with marvellous "tales of school," +rousing her indignation by terrible narratives of tyrannous and cruel +fagging, and taking away her breath by tales of reckless daring, +amusing impudence, or wanton destructiveness common to boys. Some of +these we afterwards confessed to be fables, told—as we politely put +it—to "see how much she <i>would</i> swallow."</p> + +<p>After dinner we were expected to sit with my father and Aunt Maria in +the drawing-room. Then, also, poor Polly was expected to "give us a +little music," and dutifully went through some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> performances which +were certainly a remarkable example of how much can be acquired in the +way of mechanical musical skill where a real feeling for the art is +absent. After politely offering to turn over the leaves of her music, +which Polly always declined (it was the key-note of her energetic +character that she "liked to do everything herself"), my father +generally fell asleep. I whiled away the time by playing with Rubens +under the table, Aunt Maria "superintended" the music in a way that +must have made any less stolid performer nervous, and Leo was apt to +try and distract Polly's attention by grimaces and pantomime of a far +from respectful nature behind Aunt Maria's back.</p> + +<p>Sir Lionel was not a favourite with Nurse Bundle. I was unfortunate +enough to give her a prejudice against him, which nothing seemed to +wear out. Thinking his real, or affected mistake about her name a good +joke, and having myself the strongest relish and admiration for his +school-boy wit, I had told Nurse Bundle of his various versions of her +name; and had tried to convey to her the comic nature of the scenes +when my hat was pickled, and when Leo condemned my home-made shirts.</p> + +<p>But quite in vain. Nurse Bundle's sense of humour (if she had any) was +not moved by the things that touched mine. She looked upon the +destruction of the hat and the shirts as "a sinful waste," and as to +Leo's jokes—</p> + +<p>"Called me a baggage, did he?" said the indignant Mrs. Bundle. "I'll +Sir Lionel him when I get the chance. At my time of life, too!"</p> + +<p>And no explanation from me amended matters. By the time that Leo did +come, Nurse Bundle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> had somewhat recovered from the insult, but he was +never a favourite with her. He "chaffed" her freely, and Mrs. Bundle +liked to be treated with respect. Still there was a fascination about +his beauty and his jokes against which even she was not always proof. +I have seen her laugh and fetch out the parliament box when Leo +followed her about like a dog walking on its hind legs, wagging an old +piece of rope at the end of his jacket for a tail, and singing—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Good Mother Hubbard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pray what's in your cupboard?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could you give a poor dog a bone?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And when he got the parliament he would "sit up" and balance a slice +of the gingerbread on his nose, till Polly and I cheered with delight, +and Rubens became frantic at the mockery of his own performances, and +Mrs. Bundle complained that "Sir Lionel never knowed when to let +nonsense be."</p> + +<p>But I think she was something like the housemaid who "did the +bedrooms," and who complained bitterly of the additional trouble given +by Leo and me when we were at Dacrefield, and who was equally pathetic +about the dulness of the Hall when we returned to school. "The young +gentlemen be a deal of trouble, but they do keep a bit of life in the +place, sure enough."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3>THE DEATH OF RUBENS—POLLY'S NEWS—LAST TIMES</h3> + + +<p>When one has reached a certain age time seems to go very fast. Then, +also, one begins to understand the meaning of such terms as "the +uncertainty of life," "changes," "loss of friends," "partings," "old +times," etc., which ring sadly in the ears of grown-up folk.</p> + +<p>After my first half at Eton, this universal experience became mine. +There was never a holiday time that I did not find some change; and, +too often, a loss to meet my return.</p> + +<p>One of the first and bitterest was the death of Rubens.</p> + +<p>I had been most anxious to get home, and yet somehow, in less high +spirits than usual, which made it feel not unnatural that my father's +face should be so unusually grave when he came to meet me.</p> + +<p>"I have some very bad news for you, my dear boy," he said. "I fear, +Regie, that poor Rubens is dying."</p> + +<p>"He've been a-dying all day, sir," said the groom, when we stood at +last by Rubens' side. "But he seems as if he couldn't go peaceable +till you was come."</p> + +<p>He seemed to be gone. The beautiful curls were limp and tangled. He +lay on his side with his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> legs stretched out; his eyes were closed. +But when I stooped over him and cried "Ruby!" his flabby ears pricked, +and he began to struggle.</p> + +<p>"It's a fit," said the groom.</p> + +<p>But it was nothing of the kind. Rubens knew what he was about, and at +last actually got on to his feet, when, after swaying feebly about for +a moment, he staggered in my direction (he could not see) and +literally fell into my arms, with one last wag of his dear tail.</p> + +<p>"They say care killed the cat," said Mrs. Bundle, when I went up to +the nursery, "but if it could cure a dog, my deary, your dog would +have been alive now. I never see the Squire so put about since you had +the fever. He was up at five o'clock this very morning, the groom +says, putting stuff into the corners of its mouth with a silver +teaspoon, and he've had all the cow doctors about to see him, and Dr. +Gilpin himself he've been every day, and Mr. Andrewes the same. And +I'd like to know, my deary, what more could be done for a sick +Christian than the doctor and parson with him daily till he dies?"</p> + +<p>"A Christian would be buried in the churchyard," said I; "and I wish +poor dear Rubens could."</p> + +<p>But as he couldn't, I made his grave where the churchyard wall skirted +the grounds of the Hall. "Perhaps, some day, the churchyard will have +to be enlarged," I explained to the Rector, who was puzzled by my +choice of a burying-place, "and then Rubens will <i>get taken in</i>."</p> + +<p>My father was most anxious to get me another pet. I might have had a +dog of any kind. Dogs of priceless breeds, dogs for sporting, for +ratting, and for petting; dogs for use or for ornament.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> From a +bloodhound and mastiff almost large enough for me to ride, to a toy +poodle that would go into my pocket—I might have chosen a worthy +successor to Rubens, but I could not.</p> + +<p>"I shall never care for any other dog," I was rash enough to declare. +But my resolve melted away one day at the sight of a soft, black ball, +like a lump of soot, which arrived in a game-bag, and proved to be a +retriever pup. He grew into a charming dog, of much wisdom and +amiability. I called him Sweep.</p> + +<p>Thus half by half, holidays by holidays, changes, ceaseless changes +went on. Births, deaths, and marriages furnished my father with "news" +for his letters when I was away, and Nurse Bundle and me with gossip +when I came back.</p> + +<p>I heard also at intervals from Polly. Uncle Ascott's wealth increased +yearly. The girls grew up. Helen "was becoming Tractarian and +peculiar," which annoyed Aunt Maria exceedingly. Mr. Clerke had got a +curacy in London, and preached very earnest sermons, which Aunt Maria +hoped would do Helen good. Mr. Clerke worked very hard, and seemed to +like it; but he said that his happiest days were Dacrefield days. "I +quite agree with him," Polly added. Then came a letter:—"Oh, my dear +Regie, fancy! Miss Blomfield is married. And to whom, do you think? Do +you remember the old gentleman who sent us the cinder-parcel? Well, +it's to him; and he is really a very jolly old man; and thinks there +is no one in the world like Miss Blomfield. He told her he had been +carefully observing her conduct in the affairs of daily life for eight +years. My dear Regie, <i>fancy</i> waiting eight years for one's next door +neighbour, when one was quite old to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> begin with! You have no idea how +much younger and better she looks in a home of her own, and a handsome +silk dress. Can you fancy her always apologising for being so happy? +She thinks she has too much happiness, and is idle, and who knows +what. It makes me feel quite ill, Regie, for if she is idle, and has +too much happiness, what am I, and what have I had? Do you remember +the days when you proposed that we should be very religious? I am sure +it's the only way to be very happy: I mean happy <i>always</i>, and +<i>underneath</i>. Leo says the great mistake is being <i>too</i> religious, and +that people ought to keep out of extremes, and not make themselves +ridiculous. But I think he's wrong. For it seems just to be all the +heap of people who are only a little religious who never get any good +out of it. It isn't enough to make them happy whatever happens, and +it's just enough to make them uncomfortable if they play cards on a +Sunday. I know I wish I were really good, like Miss Blomfield, and Mr. +Clerke, and Helen. * * *"</p> + +<p>It was the year of Miss Blomfield's marriage that Ragged Robin's wife +died. We had all quite looked forward to the peace she would enjoy +when she was a widow, for it was known that delirium tremens was +surely shortening her husband's life. But she died before him. Her +children were wonderfully provided for. They were girls, and we had +them all at the Hall by turns in some sort of sub-kitchenmaid +capacity, from which they progressed to higher offices, and all became +first-class servants, and "did well."</p> + +<p>"My dear," said Nurse Bundle, "there ain't no difficulty in finding +homes for gals that have been brought up to clean, and to do as +they're bid.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> It's folk as can't do a thing if you set it 'em, nor +take care of a thing if you gives it 'em, as there's no providing +for."</p> + +<p>I almost shrink from recording the hardest, bitterest loss that those +changeful years of my school-life brought me—the death of Mr. +Andrewes. It was during my holidays, and yet I was not with him when +he died.</p> + +<p>I do not think I had noticed anything unusual about him beforehand. He +had not been very well for some months, but we thought little of it, +and he never dwelt upon it himself. I was in the fifth form at the +time, and almost grown up. Sweep was a middle-aged dog, the wisest and +handsomest of his race. The Rector always dined with us on Sunday, but +one evening he excused himself, saying he felt too unwell to come out, +and would prefer to stay quietly at home, especially as he had a +journey before him; for he was going the next day to visit his brother +in Yorkshire for a change. But he asked if my father would spare me to +come down and spend the evening with him instead. I rightly considered +Sweep as included in the invitation, and we went together.</p> + +<p>As we went up the drive (so familiar to me and poor little Rubens!) I +thought I had never seen the Rector's garden in richer beauty, or +heard such a chorus from the birds he loved and protected. Indeed the +border plants were luxuriant almost to disorder. It struck me that Mr. +Andrewes had not been gardening for some time. Perhaps this idea led +me to notice how ill he looked when I went indoors. But dinner seemed +to revive him, and then in the warm summer sunset we strolled outside +again. The Rector leant heavily on my arm. He made some joke about my +height,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> I remember. (I was proud of having grown so tall, and +secretly thought well of my general appearance in the tail-coat of +"fifth form.") With one arm I supported Mr. Andrewes, the other hung +at my side, into the hand of which Sweep ever and anon thrust his nose +caressingly.</p> + +<p>"How well the garden looks!" I said. "And your birds are giving you a +farewell concert."</p> + +<p>"Ah! You think so too?" said the Rector, quickly.</p> + +<p>I was puzzled. "You are going to-morrow, are you not?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course. I see," said the Rector laughing. "I was thinking of +a longer journey. How superstitions do cling to north-countrymen! +We've a terrible lot of Paganism in us yet, for all the Christians +that we are!"</p> + +<p>"What was your superstition just now?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Oh, just part of a belief in the occult sympathy of the animal world +with humanity, which, indeed, I am by no means prepared to give up."</p> + +<p>"I should think not!" said I.</p> + +<p>"Though doubtless the idea that they feel and presage impending death +to man must be counted a fable."</p> + +<p>"Awful rot!" was my comment. "I say, sir, I'm sure you're not well, to +get such stuff into your head."</p> + +<p>"It's just that," said the Rector. "When I was a boy, I was far from +strong, and being rather bookish, I was constantly overworking my +head. What weird fancies and fads I had then, to be sure! I was +haunted by a lot of nervous plagues which it's best not to explain to +people who have never been tormented with them. One of the least +annoying was a sensation which now and then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> took possession of me +that everything I saw, heard, or did, was 'for the last time.' I've +often run back down a lane to get another glimpse of home, and done +over again something I had just finished—to break the charm! The old +childish folly has been plaguing me the last few days. It is strong on +me to-night."</p> + +<p>"Then we'll talk of something else," said I.</p> + +<p>Eventually our conversation became a religious one. It was like the +old days before I went to school. We had not had much religious talk +of late years. To say the truth, since I became an Eton man the +religious fervour of my childhood had died out. A strong belief in the +practical power of prayer (especially "when everything else failed") +was almost all that remained of that resolution to which Polly had +alluded in her letter. In discussions with her, I took Leo's view of +the subject. I warned her in a common-sense way against being +"religious overmuch" (not that I had any definite religious measure in +my mind); I laughed at Helen; I indulged a little cheap wit, and made +Polly furious, by smart sneers about women and parsons. I puzzled her +with scraps of old philosophy, and theological difficulties of +venerable standing, and was as proud to discomfit her faith as if my +own soul had no stake in the matter. I fairly drove her to tears about +the origin of evil. Sometimes I would have "Sunday talks" with her in +a different spirit, but even then she said I "did her no good," for I +would not believe that she could "have anything to repent of."</p> + +<p>I fancy Mr. Andrewes had asked me to come to him that evening greatly +for the purpose of having a "Sunday talk." My father had wished me to +be confirmed at home rather than at school,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> and as Bishops did not +hold confirmations at such short intervals then as they do now, an +opportunity had only just occurred. Mr. Andrewes was preparing me, and +it was a great annoyance to him that his ill-health obliged him to go +away in the middle of his instructions. I think he was feverish that +night. Every now and then he spoke so rapidly that I could hardly +follow him. Then there were pauses in which he seemed lost, and abrupt +changes of subject, as if he could hardly control the order of his +thoughts. And in all the evident strain and anxiety to say everything +that he wished to say to me appeared that morbid fancy of its being +"the last time."</p> + +<p>After we had talked for some time he said, "Life goes wonderfully +fast, Regie, though you may not think so just now. I do so well +remember being a child myself. I was eight years old, I think, when I +prayed for money enough to buy a <i>Fuchsia coccinea</i> (they had not been +in England more than ten or twelve years then). My brother gave me +half-a-crown, and I got one. It seems as if that one yonder must be +it. I began a model of my father's house in card-board one winter, +too. Then I got bronchitis, and did not finish it. I have been +intending to finish it ever since, but it lies uncompleted in a box +upstairs. So we purpose and neglect, till death comes like a nurse to +take us to bed, and finds our tasks unfinished, and takes away our +toys!"</p> + +<p>Presently he went on: "Our mechanical arbitrary division of time is +indeed a very false one. See how one day drags along, and how quickly +another passes. The true measure of time is that which makes each +man's life a day, his day. The real night is that in which no man can +work.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> Indeed, nothing can be more true and natural than those Eastern +expressions. I remember things that happened in my childhood as one +remembers what one did this morning. What a lot of things I meant to +do to-day! And one runs out into the garden instead of setting to +work, and it is noon before one knows where he is, and other people +take up one's time, and the afternoon slips away, and a man's day had +need be fifty times its length for him to do all he means and ought to +do, and to run after all the distractions the devil sends him as well. +So comes old age, the evening when one is tired, and it's hard to make +any fresh start; and then we're pretty near the end, at 'the last +feather of the shuttle,' as we say in Yorkshire. I often think that +the pitiful shortness of this life, compared with a man's hopes and +plans, is almost proof enough of itself that there must be another, +better fitted to his aims and capacities. And then—measure the folly +of not securing <i>that</i>! And talking of proofs, Regie, and whilst I'm +taking the privilege of this season of your confirmation to proffer a +little advice, above all things make up your mind as to what you +believe, and on what grounds you believe it. Ask yourself, my boy, if +you believe the articles of the Apostles' Creed to be real positive +truths. Do you think there is evidence for the facts, as matters of +history? Are you ever likely to have the time or the talent to test +this for yourself? And, if not, do you consider the authority of those +who have done so, and staked everything upon their truth, as +sufficient? Will you receive it as the Creed of your Church? Make up +your mind, my boy, above all things make up your mind! Have <i>some</i> +convictions, some real opinions, some worthy hopes; and be loyal to, +and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> in earnest about, whatever you do pin your faith to, I assure you +that vagueness of faith affects people's every-day conduct more than +they think. The sort of belief which takes a man to church on Sunday +who would be ashamed to look as if he were really praying, or +confessing real sins when he gets there, is small help to him when the +will balances between right and wrong. It is truly, as a matter of +mere common sense, a poor bargain, a wretched speculation, to be half +religious; to get a few checks and scruples out of it, and no real +strength and peace; and, it may be, to lose a man's soul, and not even +gain the world. For who dare promise himself that Christ our Judge, +who spent a self-denying human youth as our example, and so loved us +as to die for us, will accept a youth of indifference, and a +dissatisfied death-bed on our part? And if it be all true, and if +gratitude and common sense, and self-preservation, and the example and +advice of great men, demand that we shall serve <span class="smcap">God</span> with all our +powers, don't you think the devil must, so to speak, laugh in his +sleeve to see us really conceited of being too large-minded to attend +too closely, or to begin to attend too early, to our own best +interests?"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he added after a while, "my dear boy—dearer to me than you can +tell—the truth is, I covet for you the unutterable blessing of a +youth given to <span class="smcap">God</span>. What that is, some know, and many a man converted +late in life has imagined with heart-wrung envy: an Augustine, already +numbered with the Saints, a Prodigal robed and decked with more than +pardon, haunted yet by dark shadows of the past, the husks and the +swine. My boy, with an unstained youth yet before you to mould as you +will, get to yourself the elder son's portion—'Thou<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> art ever with +Me, and all that I have is thine.' And what <span class="smcap">God</span> has for those who +abide with Him, even here, who can describe? It's worth trying for, +lad; it would be worth trying for, on the chance of <span class="smcap">God</span> fulfilling His +promises, if His Word were an open question. How well worth any +effort, any struggle, you'll know when you stand where I stand +to-night."</p> + +<p>We had reached the front steps of the house as he said this. The last +few sentences had been spoken in jerks, and he seemed alarmingly +feeble. I shrank from understanding what he meant by his last words, +though I knew he did not refer to the actual spot on which we stood. +The garden was black now in the gloaming. The reflection from the +yellow light left by the sunset in the west gave an unearthly +brightness to his face, and I fancied something more than common in +the voice with which he quoted:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Jesu, spes poenitentibus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam pius es petentibus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam bonus te quaerentibus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sed quid invenientibus</i>!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But I was fanciful that Sunday, or his nervous "fads" were infectious +ones; for on me also the superstition was strong to-night that it was +"the last time."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<h3>I HEAR FROM MR. JONATHAN ANDREWES—YORKSHIRE—ALATHEA <i>ALIAS</i> BETTY—WE BURY OUR DEAD OUT OF OUR SIGHT—VOICES OF THE NORTH</h3> + + +<p>I sat up for a short time with my father on my return. When I went to +bed, to my amazement Sweep was absent, and I could not find him +anywhere. I did not like to return to the Rectory, for fear of +disturbing Mr. Andrewes' rest, so I went to bed without my dog.</p> + +<p>I was up early next morning, for I had resolved to go to the station +to see Mr. Andrewes off, though his train was an early one, that I +might disabuse him of his superstition by our meeting once more. It +was with a secret sense of relief, for my own part, that I saw him +arranging his luggage. Sweep, by-the-by, had turned up to breakfast, +and was with me.</p> + +<p>"I've come to see you off," I shouted, "and to break the charm of +<i>last times</i>, and Sweep has come too."</p> + +<p>"Strange to say, Sweep came back to me last night, after you left," +said the Rector, laughing; "and he added omen to superstition by +sitting under the window when I turned him out, and howling like a +Banshee."</p> + +<p>Sweep himself looked rather foolish as he wagged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> his tail in answer +to the Rector's greeting. He had the air of saying, "We were all a +little excited last night. Let it pass."</p> + +<p>For my own part I felt quite reassured. The Rector was in his sunniest +mood, and as he watched us from the window to the very last, his face +was so bright with smiles, that he hardly looked ill.</p> + +<p>For some days Sweep and I were absent, fishing.</p> + +<p>When I returned, I found on my mantelpiece a black-edged letter in an +unfamiliar hand. But for the black I should have fancied it was a +bill. The writing was what is called "commercial." I opened it and +read as follows:</p> + +<p class="sig6">"North Side Mills, Blackford,</p> + +<p class="sig7">Yorks. 4/8, 18—.</p> + +<p class="sig2">"<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I have to announce the lamented Decease of my +Brother—Reverend Reginald Andrewes, M.A.—which took place +on the 3rd inst. (3.35 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>), at Oak Mount, Blackford; where +a rough Hospitality will be very much at your Service, +should you purpose to attend the Funeral. Deceased expressed +a wish that you should follow the remains; and should your +respected Father think of accompanying you, the Compliment +will give much pleasure to Survivors.</p> + +<p>"Funeral party to leave Oak Mount at 4 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span> on Thursday next +(the 8th inst.), <span class="smcap">d.v.</span></p> + +<p>"A line to say when you may be expected will enable me to +meet you, and oblige,</p></div> + +<p class="sig6">"Yours respectfully,</p> + +<p class="sig1">"<span class="smcap">Jonathan Andrewes</span>.</p> + +<p class="sig2">"Reginald Dacre, Esq., Jun."</p> + +<p>It is useless to dwell upon the bitterness of this blow. My father +felt it as much as I did, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> neither he nor I ever found this loss +repaired. One loses some few friends in a lifetime whose places are +never filled.</p> + +<p>We went to the funeral. Had the cause of our journey been less sad, I +should certainly have enjoyed it very much. The railway ran through +some beautiful scenery, but it was the long coach journey at the end +which won my admiration for the Rector's native county. I had never +seen anything like these noble hills, these grand slopes of moorland +stretching away on each side of us as we drove through a valley to +which the river running with us gave its name. Not a quiet, sluggish +river, keeping flat pastures green, reflecting straight lines of +pollard willows, and constantly flowing past gay villas and country +cottages, but a pretty, brawling river with a stony bed, now yellow +with iron, and now brown with peat, for long distances running its +solitary race between the hills, but made useful here and there by +ugly mills built upon the banks. Sometimes there was a hamlet as well +as a mill. Tracts of the neighbouring moorland were enclosed and +cultivated, the fields being divided by stone walls, which looked rude +and strange enough to us. The cottages were also built of stone; but +as we drove through a village I could see, through several open doors, +that the rooms were very clean and most comfortably furnished, though +without carpets, the floors, like everything else, being of stone.</p> + +<p>It was dark before we reached Blackford. The latter part of our +journey was through a coal and iron district, and the glare of the +furnace fires among the hills was like nothing I had ever seen. At the +coach office we were met by Mr. Jonathan Andrewes. He was a tall, +well-made man, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> badly-fitting clothes, rather tumbled linen, +imperfectly brushed hair and hat, and some want of that fresh +cleanliness and finish of general appearance which went to my idea of +a gentleman's outside. I found him a warm-hearted, cold-mannered man, +with a clear, strong head, and a shrewdness of observation which +recalled the Rector to my mind more than once. The tones of his voice +made me start sometimes, they were so like the voice that I could +never hear again in this life. He spoke always in the broad dialect +into which the Rector was only wont to relapse in moments of +excitement.</p> + +<p>A carriage, better appointed than the owner, and a man-servant rather +less so, were waiting, and took us to Oak Mount. In the hall our host +apologized for the absence of Mrs. Andrewes, who was at the sea-side, +out of health.</p> + +<p>"But Betty 'll do her best to make you comfortable, sir," he said to +my father, and turning to a middle-aged woman with a hard-featured, +sensible face, and very golden hair tightly braided to her head, who +was already busy with our luggage, he added, "You've got something for +us to eat, Betty, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"T' supper 'll be ready by you're ready for it," said Betty, when she +had finished her orders to the man who was taking our things upstairs. +"But when folks is come off on a journey, they'll be glad to wash +their 'ands, and I've took hot water into both their rooms."</p> + +<p>The maid's familiarity startled me. Moreover, I fancied that for some +reason she was angry, judging by the form and manner of her reply; but +I have since learned that the ordinary answers of Scotch and Yorkshire +folk are apt to sound more like retorts than replies.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the end I became very friendly with this good woman. Her real name, +I discovered, was not Betty. "They call me Alathea," she said, meaning +that that was her name, "but I've allus gone by the name of Betty." +From her I learnt all the particulars of my dear friend's last +illness, which I never should have got from the brother.</p> + +<p>"He talked a deal about you," she said. "But you see, you're just +about t' age his son would have been if he'd lived."</p> + +<p>"His son!" I cried: "was Mr. Andrewes married?"</p> + +<p>"Ay," said she, "Master Reginald were married going i' two year. It +were his wife's death made him that queer while he couldn't abide the +business, and he'd allus been a great scholard, so he went for a +parson."</p> + +<p>Every detail that I could get from Alathea was interesting to me. +Apart from the sadly interesting subject, she had admirable powers of +narration. Her language (when it did not become too local for my +comprehension) was forcible and racy to a degree, and she was not +checked by the reserve which clogged Mr. Jonathan's lips. The +following morning she came to the door of the drawing-room (a large +dreary room, which, like the rest of the house, was handsomely +<i>upholstered</i> rather than furnished), and beckoned mysteriously to me +from the door. I went out to her.</p> + +<p>"You'd like to see the body afore they fastens it up?" she said.</p> + +<p>I bent my head and followed her.</p> + +<p>"He makes a beautiful corpse," she whispered, as we passed into the +room. It was an incongruous remark, and stirred again an hysterical +feeling that had been driving me to laugh when I felt most sad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> amid +all the grotesquely dreary preparations for the "burying." But, like +some other sayings that offend ears polite, it had the merit of truth.</p> + +<p>It was not the beauty of the Rector's face in death, however, noble as +it was, that alone drew from me a cry of admiration when I stooped +over his coffin. From the feet to the breast, utterly hiding the grave +clothes, and tastefully grouped about his last pillow, were the most +beautiful exotic flowers I ever beheld. Flowers lately introduced that +I had never seen, flowers that I knew to be rare, almost +priceless—flowers of gorgeous colours and delicate hothouse beauty, +lay there in profusion.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Jonathan sent for 'em," Betty murmured in my ear. "There's pounds +and pounds' worth lies there. He give orders accordingly. There warn't +to be a flower 'at warn't worth its weight in gowd a'most. Mr. +Reginald were that fond of flowers."</p> + +<p>I made no answer. Bitterly ached my heart to think of that dear and +noble face buried out of sight; the familiar countenance that should +light up no more at the sight of me and Sweep. "He looks so happy," I +muttered, almost jealously. Alathea laid her hand upon my arm.</p> + +<p>"Them that sleeps in Jesus rests well, my dear. And, as I said to +Master Jonathan this morning, it ain't fit to overbegrudge them 'ats +gone Home."</p> + +<p>I think it was the naming of that Name, in which alone we vanquish the +bitter victories of death, that recalled the verse which had been +floating in my head ever since that evening at the Rectory:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Jesu, spes poenitentibus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam pius es petentibus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam bonus te quaerentibus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sed quid invenientibus</i>!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>The loneliness of my childhood had given me a habit of talking to +myself. I did not know that I had quoted that verse of the old hymn +aloud, till I discovered the fact from hearing afterwards, to my no +small surprise, that Betty had reported that I "made a beautiful +prayer over the corpse."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The grim and hideous pomp of the funeral was most oppressive, though +in the abundance of plumes and mutes Mr. Jonathan had, as in the more +graceful tribute of the flowers, honoured his brother nobly after his +manner, which was a commercial one. It was a very expensive "burying." +Alathea did tell me what "the gin and whiskey for the mourners alone +come to," though I have forgotten. But we lost sight of the ignoble +features of the occasion when the sublime office for the Burial of the +Dead began. When it was ended I understood one of Betty's brusque +remarks, which had puzzled me when it came out at breakfast-time.</p> + +<p>"You'll 'ave to take what ye can get for your dinners, gentlemen," she +had said; "for the singers is to meet at three, and I can't pretend to +do more nor I can."</p> + +<p>The women mourners at the funeral (there were a few) all wore large +black silk hoods, which completely disguised them; but at the end of +the service one of them pushed hers back, and I recognized the golden +hair of Alathea, as she joined a group rather formally collected on +one side of the grave. She looked round as if to see that all were +ready, and then in such a soprano voice as one seldom hears, she +"started" the funeral hymn. It was the Old Psalm—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O <span class="smcap">God</span>, our help in ages past,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our hope for years to come;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our shelter from life's stormy blast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And our eternal home."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I had heard very little chorus-singing of any kind; and I did not then +know that for the best I had heard—that of St. George's choir at +Windsor—voices were systematically imported from this particular +district. My experience of village singing was confined to the thin +nasal unison psalmody of our school children, and an occasional rustic +stave from a farmer at an agricultural dinner. Great, then, was my +astonishment when the little group broke into the four-part harmony of +a fine chorale. One rarely hears such voices. Betty had a grand +soprano, and on the edge of the group stood a little lad singing like +a bird, in an alto of such sweet pathos as would have made him famous +in any cathedral choir.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jonathan's head drooped lower and lower. Affecting as the hymn was +in my ears, it had for him, no doubt, associations I could not share. +My father moved near him, with an impulse of respectful sympathy.</p> + +<p>To me that one rich voice of harmony spoke as the voice of my old +teacher; and I longed to cry to him in return, "I have made up my +mind. It <i>is</i> worth trying for! It is 'worth any effort, any +struggle.' Our eternal home!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<h3>THE NEW RECTOR—AUNT MARIA TRIES TO FIND HIM A WIFE—MY FATHER HAS A SIMILAR CARE FOR ME</h3> + + +<p>The stone that marks the burying-place of the Andrewes family taught +me the secret of the special love the Rector bore me. It recorded the +deaths of his wife Margaret, and of his son Reginald. The child was +born in the same year as myself.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jonathan Andrewes came to Dacrefield on business connected with +his brother's affairs, and he accepted my father's hospitality at the +Hall. We seldom met afterwards, and were never intimate; but, slight +as it was, our tie was that of friendship rather than acquaintance.</p> + +<p>The next presentation to the Rectory of Dacrefield was in my father's +gift. He held it alternately with the Bishop, to whom he owed Mr. +Andrewes. He gave it to my old tutor.</p> + +<p>Mr. Clerke's appointment had the rare merit of pleasing everybody. +After he had been settled with us for some weeks, my father said,</p> + +<p>"Mr. Clerke is good enough to be grateful to me for presenting him to +the living, but I do not know how to be grateful enough to him for +accepting it. I really cannot think how I should have endured to see +Andrewes' place filled by some new broom sweeping away every trace of +our dear friend and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> his ways. Clerke's good taste in the matter is +most delicate, most admirable, and very pleasant to my feelings."</p> + +<p>The truth is there was not a truer mourner for the old Rector than the +new one. "I so little thought I should never see him again," he cried +to me. "I have often felt I did not half avail myself of the privilege +of knowing such a man, when I was here. I have notes of more than a +score of matters, on which I purposed to ask his good counsel, when we +should meet again. And now it will never be."</p> + +<p>"I feel so unworthy to fill his place," he would say. "My only comfort +is in trying to carry out all his plans, and, so far as I can, tread +in his steps."</p> + +<p>In this spirit the new Rector followed the old one, even to becoming +an expert gardener. He bought the old furniture of the Rectory. +Altogether, we were spared those rude evidences of change which are +not the least painful parts of such a loss as ours.</p> + +<p>With the parishioners, I am convinced, that Mr. Clerke was more +popular than Mr. Andrewes had been. They liked him at first for his +reverence for the memory of a pastor they had loved well. I think he +persuaded them, too, that there never could be another Rector equal to +Mr. Andrewes. But in reality I believe he was himself more acceptable. +He was much less able, but also less eccentric and reserved. He was +nearer to the mental calibre of his flock, and not above entering into +parish gossip after a discreet fashion. He was not less zealous than +his predecessor.</p> + +<p>When Aunt Maria came to visit us she gladly renewed acquaintance with +Mr. Clerke, who was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> great favourite of hers. I think she imagined +that he was presented to Dacrefield on the strength of her approval. +She used to say to me, "You know Reginald, I always told your father +that Mr. Clerke was a most spiritual preacher." But after seeing him +as Rector of Dacrefield, she added, "He's getting much too 'high.' +Quite like that extraordinary creature you had here before. But it's +always the way with young men."</p> + +<p>Uncle Ascott did not publicly undertake Mr. Clerke's defence, but he +told me:</p> + +<p>"I don't pretend to understand these matters as Maria does, but I can +tell you I never liked any of our London parsons as I like Clerke. +There's something I respect beyond anything in the feeling he has for +your late Rector. And between ourselves, my dear boy, I rather like a +nicely-conducted service."</p> + +<p>So Uncle Ascott and Mr. Clerke were the very best of friends, and my +uncle would go to the Rectory for a quiet smoke, and was always +hospitably received. (Neither my aunt nor my father liked the smell of +tobacco.) Aunt Maria's favour was a little withdrawn. She tried a +delicate remonstrance, but though he was most courteous, it was not to +be mistaken that the Rector of Dacrefield meant to go his own way: +"the way of a better man than I shall ever be," he said. Failing to +change his principles, or guide his practice, my aunt next became +anxious to find him a wife. "Medical men and country parsons ought to +be married," said she, "and it will settle him."</p> + +<p>She selected a young lady of the neighbourhood, the daughter of a +medical man. "Most suitable," said my aunt (by which she meant not +<i>quite</i> up to the standard she would have exacted for a son of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> her +own), "and with a little money." She patronised this young lady, and +even took her with us one day to lunch at the Rectory; but when she +said something to Mr. Clerke on the subject, she found him utterly +obdurate. "What does he expect, I wonder?" cried my aunt, rather +unfairly, for the Rector had not given utterance to any matrimonial +hopes. She always said, "She never could feel that Mr. Clerke had +behaved well to poor Letitia Ramsay," which used to make downright +Polly very indignant. "He didn't behave badly to her. It was mamma who +always took her everywhere where he was; and how she could stand it, I +don't know! He never flirted with her, Regie."</p> + +<p>The next few years of my life seemed to whirl by. They were very happy +ones. My dear father lived, and our mutual affection only grew +stronger as time went on.</p> + +<p>Then, when I was a man, it gradually dawned upon me, through many +hints, that my father had the same anxiety for me that Aunt Maria had +had for the Rector. He wished me to marry. At one time or another my +fancy had been taken by pretty girls, some of whom were unsuitable in +every respect but prettiness, and some of whom failed to return my +admiration. My dear father would not have dreamed of urging on me a +marriage against my inclinations, but he would have preferred a lady +with some fortune as his daughter-in-law.</p> + +<p>"Our family is an old one, my dear boy," he said, "but the estate is +much smaller than it was in my great-grandfather's time. Don't suppose +that I would have you marry for money alone; but if the lady should be +well portioned, sir, so much the better—so much the better."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> + +<p>At last he seemed to set his heart upon my having one of Aunt Maria's +daughters. People who live years and years on their own country +estates without going much from home are apt sometimes to fancy that +there is nothing like their own family circle. My father had a great +objection, too, to what he called "modern young ladies." I think he +thought that, as there was no girl left in the world like my poor +mother, I should be safer and happier with one of my cousins. They +were unexceptionably brought up, and would all have considerable +fortunes.</p> + +<p>But though I was very fond of my cousins, I had no wish to choose a +wife from them. They had been more like sisters to me than cousins +from our childhood. At one time, it is true, I was rather sentimental +about Helen. She was the only one of the sisters who was positively +pretty, and her resolute character and unusual tastes roused a +romantic interest in me for a while. When she was twelve years old, +she was found one day by Aunt Maria in the bedroom of a servant who +had fallen ill, and to whom she was attending with the utmost +dexterity. She had a genius for the duties of a sick room, which +developed as she grew up. There were no lady-doctors then, but Helen +was determined to be a hospital nurse. Strongly did Aunt Maria object, +and Helen never defied her wishes in the matter. But she had all Mrs. +Ascott's determination, with more patience. She waited long, but she +followed her vocation at last.</p> + +<p>None of the other girls had any special tastes. The laborious and +expensive education of their childhood did not lead to anything worth +the name of a pursuit, much less a hobby, with any one of them. Of the +happiness of learning, of the excit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>ing interest of an intellectual +hobby, they knew nothing. With much pains and labour they had been +drilled in arts and sciences, in languages and "the usual branches of +an English education." But, apart from social duties and amusements, +the chief occupation of their lives was needlework. I have known many +people who never received proper instruction in music or drawing, who +yet, from what they picked up of either art by their own industry and +intelligence, nearly doubled the happiness of their daily lives. But +in vain had "the first masters" made my cousins glib in chromatic +passages, and dexterous with tricks of effects in colours and crayons. +They played duets after dinner, and Aunt Maria sometimes showed off +the water-colour copies of their school-room days, which, indeed, they +now and then recopied for bazaars; but for their own pleasure they +never touched a note or a pencil. Perhaps real enjoyment only comes +with what one has, to a great extent, taught oneself. Helen had been +her own mistress in the art of nursing, and it was an all-absorbing +interest to her.</p> + +<p>They were very nice girls, and I do not think were entirely to blame +for the small use to which they put their "advantages." They were tall +and lady-like, aquiline-nosed and pleasant-looking, without actual +beauty. It took a wonderful quantity of tarlatan to get them ready for +a ball, a large carriage to hold them, and a small amount of fun to +make them talkative and happy.</p> + +<p>Except Maria, they all inherited my aunt's firmness and decision of +character. Maria, the oldest and largest, was the most yielding. She +had more of Uncle Ascott about her.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<h3>I BELIEVE MYSELF TO BE BROKEN-HEARTED—MARIA IN LOVE—I MAKE AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE, WHICH IS NEITHER ACCEPTED NOR REFUSED</h3> + + +<p>A phase of my life, into which I do not propose to enter, left me +firmly resolved that (as I said in confidence to Clerke) "I shall +marry to please the governor. One doesn't go in for a broken heart, +you know, but it isn't in me to <i>care</i> a second time."</p> + +<p>It was shortly after this that Maria and her mother came to stay at +the Hall. A rather mysterious letter from my aunt had led to the +invitation. It was for the benefit of Maria's health. My father also +invited Polly; she was a favourite with him. Leo and some other +friends were expected for shooting. Our neighbours' houses as well as +ours were filling with visitors, and though I fancied myself a +disappointed man, I found my spirits rising daily.</p> + +<p>My aunt and Maria arrived first: Polly was visiting elsewhere, and was +to join them in a day or two. I was glad to have ladies in the house +again, and after dinner I strolled about the grounds with Maria. She +was looking delicate, but it improved her appearance, and she quite +pleased me by the interest she seemed to take in the place. But I had +seen more of Maria during a visit I paid to London two months before +than usual,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> and had been quite surprised to find her so well versed +in Dacrefield matters.</p> + +<p>"It's uncommonly pleasant having you here," said I, as we leaned over +a low wall in the garden. "I wonder we do not become perfect +barbarians, cut off as we are from ladies' society. I'm sure I wish +you would settle down here instead of in London. You would civilise +both the Rectory and the Hall."</p> + +<p>I was really thinking of my uncle taking a house in the neighbourhood. +I do not know what Maria was thinking of; but she looked up suddenly +into my face, with a strange expression, as if half inclined to speak. +She said nothing, however, only blushed deeply, and began walking +towards the house. I puzzled for a few minutes over that pathetic look +and blush, but I could make nothing of it, and it passed from my mind +till the next evening after dinner, when, after a little ceremonious +preamble, my father asked if there was "anything between" myself and +my eldest cousin. In explanation of this vague question, he told me +that Maria had been failing in health and spirits for some months; +that my aunt's watchful observation and experience had led her to the +conclusion that Maria was not in a consumption, but in love. As, +however, she kept her own counsel, Mrs. Ascott could only guess in the +matter. From her feverish interest in Dacrefield, her ill-concealed +excitement when the visit was proposed, the improvement in her health +since she came, and a multitude of other small facts which my aunt had +ferreted out and patched together with an ingenuity that amazed me, +Maria was supposed to care for me.</p> + +<p>"We were a good deal together in town, sir," said I, "and Maria was +very jolly with me. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> I am sure I gave her no reason to think I was +in love with her, and I don't believe she cares for me. It's one of my +aunt's mare's nests, depend upon it. The poor girl has got a horrid +cough, and, of course, she was pleased to get out of London smoke."</p> + +<p>"If you did care for her," said my father; "and, above all, if you had +led her to think you did, the course is obvious, and I have no doubt +she would make an excellent wife. Polly is my favourite, and Maria is +a year or two older than you. But she is a nice, sensible, well-bred +woman. She is the eldest daughter, and will have—"</p> + +<p>"My dear father," said I, "Maria and I are very friendly as cousins, +but she has not an idea of me in any other than a brotherly relation. +At least I think not," I added, for the look and blush that had +puzzled me came back to my mind.</p> + +<p>"I only mention this because I wished to warn you against trifling +with your cousin's affections if you mean nothing," said my father.</p> + +<p>"I should be sorry to trifle with any lady's affections, sir," was my +reply. We said no more. I sighed, thinking of what I fully believed +had blighted my existence. My father sighed, thinking, I know, of his +own vain wish to see me happily married. At last I could bear it no +longer, and calling Sweep, I went out into the garden. It was +moonlight, and Maria was languidly pacing the terrace. I joined her, +and we strolled away into the shrubbery.</p> + +<p>I cannot say that my father's warning led me to shun Maria's society. +My father and my aunt naturally talked together, and circumstances +almost forced us two into <i>tête-à-têtes</i>. I could not fail to see that +Maria liked to be with me, and I found<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> the task of taking care of her +soothing to what I believed to be my blighted feelings. We rode +together (she had an admirable figure and rode well), and the exercise +did her health great good. We often met Mr. Clerke in our rides, and +he seemed to enjoy a canter with us, though he rode very little better +than when I first knew him. We took long walks with Sweep, and from +the oldest tenant to the latest puppy, everything about Dacrefield +seemed to interest my fair cousin. I came at last to believe that Aunt +Maria was right.</p> + +<p>When I did come to believe it (and I do not think that any +contemptible conceit made me hasty to do so), other thoughts followed. +I was as firmly convinced as any other young man with my experiences +that I could never again feel what I had felt for the person who shall +be nameless. But the first bitterness of that agony being undoubtedly +over, I felt that I might find a sober satisfaction in making my +father's declining years happy by giving him a daughter-in-law, and +that I was perhaps hardly justified in allowing Maria to fall into a +consumption when I could prevent it. "There are some people," thought +I, "with whom one could spend life very happily in a quiet fashion; +people who would not offend one's taste, or greatly provoke one's +temper, and whom one feels that one could please in like manner. +<i>Suitable</i> people, in fact. And when a fellow has had his great +heart-ache and it's all over, no doubt suitableness is the thing to +make married life happy.... Maria is suitable."</p> + +<p>I remember well the day I came to this conclusion. Our visitors had +not yet arrived, but Polly was expected the next day, and Leo and some +others shortly. "I may as well get it over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> before the house is full," +I thought. But, to my vexation, I discovered that my father had asked +Mr. Clerke to come up after dinner. "It's his own fault if I don't get +another chance of speaking," thought I. But, as I strolled sullenly on +the terrace (without Maria) a note arrived from the Rector to say that +he was called away to see a sick man. I dashed into the drawing-room, +gave the letter to my father, and seeing Maria was not there, I went +on into the conservatory.</p> + +<p>There are moments when even plain people look handsome. Notably when +self-consciousness is quite absent, and some absorbing thought gives +sentiment to the face, and grace and power to the figure. It was so at +this moment with Maria, who stood gazing before her, the light from +above falling artistically on her glossy hair and tall, elegant +figure. At the sound of my footsteps she started, and the colour +flooded her face as I came up to her. She sank on to a seat close by, +as if too much agitated to stand.</p> + +<p>"I have something I want to say to you," said I, stooping over her, +and speaking in my gentlest voice. "May I say it?"</p> + +<p>She moved her lips as if trying to speak, but there was no sound, and +she just nodded her head, which then drooped so that I could hardly +see her face.</p> + +<p>"We have known each other since we were children," I began.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Regie dear," murmured Maria.</p> + +<p>"We were always very good friends, I think," continued I.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Regie dear."</p> + +<p>"Childhood was a very happy time," said I, sentimentally.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Regie dear."</p> + +<p>"But we can't be children for ever," I continued.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Regie dear."</p> + +<p>"Please take what I am going to say kindly, cousin, whatever you may +think of it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Regie dear."</p> + +<p>"I hope I may truthfully say that your happiness is, as it ought to +be, my chief aim in the matter."</p> + +<p>Maria's response was inaudible.</p> + +<p>"It's no good beating about the bush," said I, desperately clothing my +sentiments in slang, after the manner of my age; "the fellow who gets +you for a wife, Maria, must be uncommonly fortunate, and I hope that +with a good husband, who made your wishes his first consideration, you +would not be unhappy in married life yourself."</p> + +<p>Lower and lower went her head, but still she was silent.</p> + +<p>"You say nothing," I went on. "Probably I am altogether wrong, and you +are too kind-hearted to tell me I am an impertinent puppy. It is +Dacrefield—the place only—that you honour with your regard. You have +no affection for—"</p> + +<p>Maria did not let me finish this sentence. She put up her hands to +stop me, and seemed as if she wished to speak; but after one pitiful +glance she buried her face in her hands and wept bitterly. I am sure I +have read somewhere that when a woman weeps she is won. So Maria was +mine. I had a grim feeling about it which I cannot describe. "I hope +the governor will be satisfied now," was my thought.</p> + +<p>However, there is nothing I hate more than to see a woman cry. To be +the means of making her cry is intolerable.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p><p>"Please, please, don't! Oh, Maria, what a brute you make me feel. +<i>Please</i> don't," I cried, and raising my cousin from her Niobe-like +attitude, I comforted her as well as I could. She only said, "Oh, +Regie dear, how kind you are," and laid her sleek head against my arm +with an air of rest and trustfulness that touched my generosity to the +quick. What right had I, after all, to accept an affection to which I +could make no similar return? "However," thought I, "it's done now; +and they say it's always more on one side than the other; and at least +I'm a gentleman. I care for no one else, and she shall never know it +was chiefly to please the governor. I suppose it will all come right."</p> + +<p>Whilst I pondered, Maria had dried her eyes, and now sat up, gazing +before her, almost in her old attitude.</p> + +<p>"I wonder, Regie dear," she said, presently—"I wonder how you found +out that I—that we—that I <i>cared</i>—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," said I, inanely, for I could not say that nothing +could be plainer.</p> + +<p>"I always used to think that to live in this neighbourhood would be +paradise," murmured Maria, looking sentimentally but vacantly into a +box of seedling balsams.</p> + +<p>"I'm very glad you like it," said I. I could not make pretty speeches. +An unpleasant conviction was stealing over my mind that I had been a +fool, and had no one but myself to blame. I began to think that Maria +would not have died of consumption even if I had not proposed to her, +and to doubt if I were really so heartbroken as I had fancied. (Indeed +the society of my cousin, who was a lady, had by this time gone far to +cure me of my sentiment for one who was not, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> who had been +sensible enough to marry a man in her own rank of life, to my father's +great relief, and, as I then thought, to my life-long disappointment.) +The whole affair seemed a mockery, and I wished it were a dream. It +was not thus that my father had plighted his troth to my fair mother. +This was not the sort of affection that had made happy the short lives +of Leo's parents. The lemon-scented verbena which I was pounding +between my fingers bitterly recalled a little sketch of the monument +to their memory which Leo had shown me in his Bible, where he had also +pressed a sprig of verbena. Beneath the sketch he had written, "They +were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in death they were not +divided." I remembered his telling me how young they were when they +were married. How his father had never cared for any one else, and how +he would like to do just the same, and marry the one lady of his love. +I began, too, to think Clerke was right when he replied to my +confidences, "I'm only afraid, Regie, that you don't know what love +is."</p> + +<p>It was whilst these thoughts were crowding all too vividly into my +mind that Maria said, impressively, and with unmistakable clearness,</p> + +<p>"After <i>all</i>, you know, Regie, he's a <i>thorough</i> gentleman, if he <i>is</i> +poor. I must say <i>that</i>! And if he <i>has</i> a profession instead of being +a landed proprietor, it's the <i>highest</i> and <i>noblest</i> profession there +is."</p> + +<p>It seemed to take away my breath. But I was standing almost behind +Maria; she was preoccupied, and I had some presence of mind. I had +opportunity to realize the fact that I was not the object of Maria's +attachment, as I had supposed. I was not poor, I had no profession, +and my com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>mon avocations did not, I fear, deserve to be called high +or noble. The description in no way fitted me. Further still, it was +evident that my cousin had not dreamed that I was making her an offer. +She believed that I had discovered her attachment to some other man, +and was grateful for my sympathy. I did not undeceive her. After a +rapid review of the position, I said,</p> + +<p>"But my dear Maria, though I have penetrated to the fact that you have +a secret, and though I want beyond anything to help and comfort you, I +do not yet know who the happy man is, remember."</p> + +<p>"Don't you?" said Maria, looking up hastily, and the colour rushed to +her face as before. "Oh, I thought you knew it was Mr. Clerke. You +know, he <i>is</i> so good, and I've known him so long."</p> + +<p>At this moment Aunt Maria's voice called from the drawing-room end of +the conservatory.</p> + +<p>"Will you give us a little music, Maria? Mr. Clerke has come after +all, and Bowles has brought in the tea."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<h3>THE FUTURE LADY DAMER—POLLY HAS A SECRET—UNDER THE MULBERRY-TREE</h3> + + +<p>Polly came into the house, as she always did, like a sunbeam. Mrs. +Bundle, who was getting old, and apt to be depressed in spirits from +time to time, always revived when "Miss Mary" paid us a visit. A +general look of welcome greeted her appearance in church on Sunday. My +father made no secret of his pleasure in her society. I think she was +in the secret of her sister's engagement, and Maria looked comforted +by her coming.</p> + +<p>Our meals were now quite merry. We had plenty of family gossip, and +news of the neighbourhood to chat over.</p> + +<p>"So Lady Damer that is to be is coming to the Towers," Maria announced +at breakfast, on the authority of a letter she was reading. "Leo is +coming here to shoot, isn't he, Regie?"</p> + +<p>"We expect him every day," said I; "but I never knew he was engaged. +Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's not an announced engagement," said Maria, "but everybody +says it is to be. She is an heiress, and her father was an old friend +of his guardian's. And, by-the-bye, Regie, her sister is coming too, +and will do beautifully for you. She is co-heiress, you know. They're +really very rich, and your one is lovely."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> I, "and we are to dine +at the Towers next week, so I shall see the heiresses. But suppose I +take a fancy to the wrong one?"</p> + +<p>"You can't have her," said Maria, laughing.</p> + +<p>"I tell you she is for Leo, and she is very clever and strong-minded, +which is just what he wants—a wife who can take care of him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, deliver me from a strong-minded lady!" I cried. "Damer is quite +welcome to her."</p> + +<p>"Your one isn't a bit strong-minded," said Maria. "She is very pretty, +but has no will of her own at all. She leans completely on Frances; I +don't know what she'll do when she marries, for they have been orphans +since they were quite children, and have never lived apart for a +week."</p> + +<p>At this point Polly broke in with even more warmth and directness of +speech than usual,</p> + +<p>"Frances Chislett is the most superior girl I ever knew. Men always +laugh at strong-minded women; but I'm sure I don't know why. I can't +think how any human being with duties and responsibilities can be +either more useful or more agreeable for being weak-minded."</p> + +<p>And this was all that Polly contributed to our nonsensical +conversation about the heiresses.</p> + +<p>After she came I forsook the society of Maria. I knew now that she +only wanted to talk to me about the Rector and the parish. Besides, +though Maria was strongly interested in Dacrefield for Clerke's sake, +she knew much less of it than Polly, with whom I revisited numberless +haunts of our childhood, the barns and stables, the fernery, the +"Pulpit" and the "Pew."</p> + +<p>I did not tell her of my romance with Maria. I was not proud of it. +But as we sat together in the old apple-room above the stables, I +confided to her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> my "unfortunate attachment," which I had now +sufficiently recovered from not to be offended by her opinion, that it +was all for the best that it had ended as it had.</p> + +<p>I do not remember exactly how it was that I came to know that +Polly—even Polly—had her own private heart-ache. I think I took an +unfair advantage of her strict truthfulness, when I once suspected +that she had a secret, and insisted upon her confiding in me as I had +done in her. Nurse Bundle gave me the first hint. Mrs. Bundle, +however, believed that "Miss Mary" was only waiting for me to ask her +to be mistress of Dacrefield Hall. And though she had "never seen the +young lady that was good enough for her boy," she graciously allowed +that I might "do worse than marry Miss Mary."</p> + +<p>"My time's pretty near come, my dear," said Mrs. Bundle, "but many's +the time I pray the Lord to let me live to put in if it is but a pin, +when your lady dresses for her wedding."</p> + +<p>But I was not to be fooled a second time by the affectionate belief my +friends had in my attractions.</p> + +<p>"My dear old Nursey," said I, squatting down with Sweep by her easy +chair, "I know what a dear girl Polly is, and if she wanted to be Mrs. +Dacre she soon should be. But you're quite mistaken there; she is my +dear sister, and always will be so, and never anything else."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said Nurse Bundle, "young folks know their own affairs +better than the old ones, and the Lord above knows what's good for us +all, but I'm a great age, and the Squire's not young, and taking the +liberty to name us together, my deary, in all reason it would be a +blessing to him and me to see you happy with a lady as fit to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> take +your dear mother's place as Miss Mary is. For let alone everything +else, my dear, servants is not what they used to be, and when I'm dead +you'll be cheated out of house and home, without any one as knows what +goes to the keeping of a family, and what don't."</p> + +<p>"Well, Nursey," said I, "I'll try and find a lady to please you and +the governor. But it won't be Polly, I know, and I wish it may be any +one as good."</p> + +<p>I bullied poor Polly sadly about having a secret, and not confiding it +to me. She was far from expert at dissembling, and never told an +untruth, so I soon drove her into a corner.</p> + +<p>"I'm rather disappointed, I must confess, in one way," said I, having +found her unable flatly to deny that she did "care for" somebody. "I +always hoped, somehow, that you and Leo would make it up together."</p> + +<p>"You heard what Maria said," said Polly, shortly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't believe in the heiress," said I, "unless you've refused +him. He'd never take up with the blue-stocking lady and her money-bags +if his old love would have had him."</p> + +<p>"I wish you wouldn't call her names," said Polly, angrily. "I tell you +she's the best girl I ever knew. I don't care much for most girls; +they are so silly. I suppose you'll say that's envy, but I can't help +it, it's true. But Frances Chislett never bores me. She only makes me +ashamed of myself, and long to be like her. When she's with me I feel +rough, and ignorant, and useless, and—"</p> + +<p>"What a soothing companion!" I broke in.</p> + +<p>"Poor Damer! So you want him to marry her, as one takes nasty +medicine—all for his good."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Want him to marry her!" repeated Polly, expressively. "No. But I am +satisfied that he should marry <i>her</i>. So long as he is really happy, +and his wife is worthy of him—and <i>she</i> is worthy of him—"</p> + +<p>A light dawned upon me, and I interrupted her.</p> + +<p>"Why, Polly, it <i>is</i> Leo that you care for!"</p> + +<p>We were sitting under an old mulberry-tree near the gate, in the +kitchen garden, but when I said this Polly jumped up and tried to run +away. I caught her hand to detain her, and we were standing very much +in the attitude of the couple in a certain sentimental print entitled +"The Last Appeal," when the gate close by us opened, and my father put +his head into the garden, shouting "James! James!" I dropped Polly's +hand, and struck by the same idea, we both blushed ludicrously; for +the girls knew as well as I did the plans made on our behalf by our +respective parents.</p> + +<p>"The men are at dinner, sir," said I, going towards my father. "Can I +do anything?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all—not at all; don't let me disturb you," said the old +gentleman, with an unmistakably pleased expression of countenance. And +turning to blushing Polly, he added in his most gracious tones,</p> + +<p>"You look charming, my dear, standing under that old mulberry-tree, in +your pretty dress. It was planted by my grandfather, your +great-grandfather, my love, and Regie's also. I wish I could have you +painted so. Quite a picture—quite a picture!"</p> + +<p>Saying which, and waving off my attempts to follow him, he bowed +himself out and shut the door behind him. When he had gone, Polly and +I looked at each other, and then burst out laughing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The plot certainly thickens," said I, sitting down again. "I beg you +to listen to the gratified parent whistling as he retires. What shall +we do, Polly, how could you blush so?"</p> + +<p>"How could I help it when I saw you get so red?" said Polly.</p> + +<p>"We certainly are a wonderful family at this point," said I; "the +whole lot of us in a mess with our love affairs, and my aunt and the +governor off on completely wrong scents."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think everybody's the same," said Polly, picking off half-ripe +mulberries and flinging them hither and thither; "but that doesn't +make one any better pleased with oneself for being a fool."</p> + +<p>"You're not a fool," said I, pulling her down to the seat again; "but +I wish you wouldn't be cross when you're unhappy. Look at me. +Disappointment has made me sympathetic instead of embittering me. But, +seriously, Polly, I'm sure you and Leo will come all right, and in the +general rejoicing your mother must let Clerke and poor Maria be happy. +Even I might have found consolation with the beautiful heiress if I +had been left to find out her merits for myself; but one gets rather +tired of having young ladies suggested to one by attentive friends. +The fact is, matrimony is not in my line. I feel awfully old. The +governor is years younger than I am. Whoever saw <i>me</i> trouble <i>my</i> +long legs and back to perform such a bow as he gave you just now? I +wish he'd leave me in peace with Sweep. Since the day I came of age, +when every old farmer in the place wound up his speech with something +about the future Mrs. Reginald Dacre, I've had no quiet of my life for +her. Clerke too! I really did think Clerke was a confirmed old +bachelor, on ecclesiastical grounds. I wish I'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> gone fishing to +Norway. I wish a bit of the house would fall down. If the governor +were busy with real brick and mortar, he wouldn't build so many +castles in the air, perhaps."</p> + +<p>As I growled, Sweep, beneath my feet, growled also. I believe it was +sympathy, but lest it should be the approach of Aunt Maria (whom Sweep +detested), Polly and I thought well to withdraw from the garden by +another gate. We returned to the house, and I took her to my den to +find a book to divert her thoughts. I was not surprised that a long +search ended in her choosing a finely-bound copy of Young's "Night +Thoughts."</p> + +<p>"I often feel ashamed of knowing so little of our standard poets," she +remarked parenthetically.</p> + +<p>"Quite so," said I; "but I feel it right to mention that the marks in +it are only mine."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<h3>I MEET THE HEIRESS—I FIND MYSELF MISTAKEN ON MANY POINTS—A NEW KNOT IN THE FAMILY COMPLICATIONS</h3> + + +<p>Leo came to the Hall. "His" heiress came to the Towers, but not +"mine." She was to follow shortly.</p> + +<p>I could not make out how matters stood between Leo and Polly. When +Damer came, Polly was three times as <i>brusque</i> with him as with any of +us; he himself seemed dreamy, and just as usual.</p> + +<p>We went to dine at the Towers. We were rather late. Leo, in right of +his rank, took a dowager of position in to dinner. Our host led me +across the room, and introduced me to "Miss Chislett."</p> + + + +<p>She was not the sort of person I expected. It just flashed across me +that I understood something of Polly's remark about Frances Chislett +making her feel "rough." My cousins were ladies in every sense of the +term, but Miss Chislett had a certain perfection of courteous grace +and dignified refinement, in every word, and gesture, and attitude, as +utterly natural to her as the vigorous tread of any barefooted peasant +girl, and which one does meet with (but by no means invariably) among +women of the highest class in England. Her dignity fell short of +haughtiness (which is not high breeding, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>and is very easy of +assumption); her grace and courtesy were the simple results of +constant and skilful consideration for other people, and of a +self-respect sufficient to dispense with self-consciousness. The +advantage of wealth was evident in the exquisite taste and general +effect of her costume. She was not beautiful, and yet I felt disposed +for an angry argument with my cousins on the subject of her looks. Her +head was nobly shaped, her figure was tall and beautiful, her grey +eyes haunted one. I never took any lady to dinner who gave me so +little trouble. When we had been together for two minutes, I felt as +if I had known her for years.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pic_8" id="pic_8"></a> +<img src="images/image_226.jpg" alt="It was only a quiet dinner party, and Miss Chislett had brought out her needlework." width="500" height="837" /><br /> +<span class="caption">It was only a quiet dinner party, and Miss Chislett had +brought out her needlework.</span></p> + +<p>"Well, what do you think of her?" said Polly, when we met in the +drawing-room. Polly had been taken in by Mr. Clerke, and they had +neither of them paid much attention to what the other was saying. +Maria had said "yes" and "no" alternately to the observations of the +elderly and Honourable Mr. Edward Glynn; but as he was deaf this +mattered the less.</p> + +<p>"Was I right?" said Polly.</p> + +<p>"No," said I; "she's not a bit strong-minded." Polly laughed.</p> + +<p>"I'll say one thing for her," said I; "I don't mind how often I take +her in to dinner. She doesn't expect you to make conversation."</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear Regie," said Polly, "you've been talking the whole of +dinner-time!"</p> + +<p>Leo had seated himself by the heiress. Poor Polly's eyes kept +wandering towards them, and (I suppose, because I had heard so much +about her) so did mine. It was only a quiet dinner-party, and Miss +Chislett had brought out her needlework, some gossamer lace affair, +and Leo leant over the sofa where she sat, playing with the contents +of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> her workbox. Polly's eyes and mine were not the only ones turned +towards them. Ours was not the only interest in the future Lady Damer.</p> + +<p>Aunt Maria carried Polly off to the piano to "give us a little music," +and I sat down and stultified myself with an album at the table, and +Frances Chislett chatted with Sir Lionel. They were close by me, and +every word they said was audible. It was the veriest chit-chat, and +Leo's remarks on the little bunch of charms and knicknacks that he +found in the workbox seemed trivial to foolishness. "I'd no idea Damer +was so empty-headed," I thought, and I rather despised Miss Chislett +for smiling at his feeble conversation.</p> + +<p>"I often wonder what's the use of farthings," I heard him say as he +turned one over in the bunch of knicknacks. "They won't buy anything +(unless it's a box of matches). They only help tradesmen to cheat when +they're 'selling off.'"</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," said Miss Chislett, "I have bought most charming +things for a farthing each."</p> + +<p>"So have I," said I, turning round on my chair, and joining in the +conversation, which seemed less purposeless after I began to take part +in it. Leo looked at us both with a puzzled air.</p> + +<p>"Frying-pans, for instance," said Miss Chislett.</p> + +<p>"—and gridirons," said I.</p> + +<p>"Plates, knives, and forks," said the heiress.</p> + +<p>"—and flat irons," I concluded; playing involuntarily with the blob +of lead which still hung at my watch-chain.</p> + +<p>Polly had finished her performance, and was now standing near us. She +understood the allusion, and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Do <i>you</i> know what they're talking about?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> asked Sir Lionel, going +up to her. I sat down by the heiress.</p> + +<p>"Were you ever at Oakford?" she asked, turning her grey eyes on me. +She spoke almost abruptly, and with a touch of imperiousness that +suddenly recalled to me where I had seen those eyes before.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said I, "and at the tinsmith's."</p> + +<p>"What were you doing there?" she asked, and after all these years +there was no mistaking the accent and gesture of the little lady of +the grey beaver. Before she had well begun her apology for the +question, I had answered it,</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Buying a flat iron for a farthing</span>."</p></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Well, you've gone it hard to-night, old fellow," said Damer, as we +drove away from the Towers. "You and Miss Chislett will be county talk +for six months to come."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," said I, "we knew each other years ago, and had a good deal +to talk about."</p> + +<p>But to Polly, as we parted for the night in the corridor, I said, "My +dear child, to add to all the family complications, I'm head over ears +in love with the future Lady Damer."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + +<h3>MY LADY FRANCES—THE FUTURE LADY DAMER—WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER AT LAST</h3> + + +<p>It was true. My theories and my disappointment went to the winds. We +had few common acquaintances or social interests to talk about, and +yet the time we spent together never seemed long enough for our fluent +conversation. We had always a thousand things to say when we met, and +feeling as if we had been together all our lives, I felt also utterly +restless and wretched when I was not with her. Of course, I learnt her +history. She and her sister were the little ladies I had seen in my +childhood. The St. John family were their cousins, and as the boy, of +whom mention has been made, did die in Madeira, the property +eventually came to Frances Chislett and her sister. The estate was +sold, and they were co-heiresses. Adeline, the other sister, soon came +to the Towers. She was more like her old self than Frances. The +exquisitely, strangely fair hair, the pale-blue eyes, the gentle +helpless look, all were the same. She was very lovely, but Frances was +like no other woman I had ever seen before, or have ever met with +since. I resolved to ask Lionel Damer how matters really stood between +them, and, if he were not engaged to her, to try my luck. One day when +she was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> with us at the Hall I decided upon this. I was told that +Lionel was in the library, and went to seek him. As I opened the door +I saw him standing in front of Polly, who was standing also. He was +speaking with an energy rare with him, and in a tone of voice quite +strange to me.</p> + +<p>"It's not like you to say what's not true," he was saying. "You are +<i>not</i> well, you are <i>not</i> happy. You may deceive every one else, +Polly, but you can never deceive me. All these years, ever since I +first knew you—"</p> + +<p>I stole out, shut the door, and went to seek Frances. I found her by +Rubens' grave, and there we plighted our troth.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was in the evening of the same day that Polly and I met in the +hall, on our way to attempt the difficult task of dressing for dinner +in five minutes. The grey-eyed lady of my love had just left me for +the same purpose, and I was singing, I don't know what, at the top of +my voice in pure blitheness of heart. Polly and I fairly rushed into +each other's arms.</p> + +<p>"My dear child!" said I, swinging her madly round, "I am delirious +with delight, and so is Sweep, for she kissed his nose."</p> + +<p>Poor Polly buried her head on my shoulder, saying,</p> + +<p>"And, oh, Regie! I <i>am</i> so happy!"</p> + +<p>It was thus that my father and Aunt Maria found us. Fate, spiteful at +our happiness, had sent my father, stiff with an irreproachable +neckcloth, and Aunt Maria, rustling in amber silk and black laces, +towards the drawing-room, five minutes too early for dinner, but just +in time to catch us in the most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> sentimental of attitudes, and to hear +dear, candid, simple-hearted Polly's outspoken confession—"I <i>am</i> so +happy!"</p> + +<p>"And how long are you going to keep your happiness to yourselves, +young people?" said my father, whose face beamed with a satisfaction +more sedately reflected in Aunt Maria's countenance. "Do you grudge +the old folks a share? Eh, sir? eh?"</p> + +<p>And the old gentleman pinched my shoulder, and clapped me on the back. +He was positively playful.</p> + +<p>"Stop, my dear father," said I, "you're mistaken."</p> + +<p>"Eh, what?" said my father, and Aunt Maria drew her laces round her +and prepared for war.</p> + +<p>"Polly and I are not engaged, sir, if that's what you think," said I, +desperately.</p> + +<p>My father and Aunt Maria both opened their mouths at once.</p> + +<p>"Dinner's on the table, sir," the butler announced. My father lacked a +subject for his vexation, and turned upon old Bowles:</p> + +<p>"Take the dinner to ——"</p> + +<p>"—the kitchen," said I, "and keep it warm for ten minutes; we are not +ready. Now, my dear father, come to my room, for I have something to +tell you."</p> + +<p>There was no need for Polly to ask Aunt Maria to go with her. That +lady drove her daughter before her to her bedroom, with a severity of +aspect which puzzled and alarmed poor Leo, whom they passed in the +corridor. A blind man could have told by the rustle of her dress that +Mrs. Ascott would have a full explanation before she broke bread again +at our table.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> + +<p>I fancy she was not severe upon the future Lady Damer, when Polly's +tale was told.</p> + +<p>As to my father, he was certainly vexed and put out at first. But day +by day my lady-love won more and more of his heart. One evening, a +week later, he disappeared mysteriously after dinner, and then +returned to the dining-room, carrying some old morocco cases.</p> + +<p>"My dear boy," he said, in an almost faltering voice, "I never dared +to hope my dear wife's diamonds would be so worthily worn by yours. +Your choice has made an old man very happy, sir. For a thoroughly +high-bred tone, for intelligence, indeed, I may say, brilliancy of +mind, and for every womanly grace and virtue, I have seen no one to +approach her since your mother's death. I should have loved little +Polly very much, but your choice has been a higher one—more +refined—more refined. For, strictly between ourselves, my dear boy, +our dear little Polly has, now and then, just a thought too much of +your Aunt Maria about her."</p> + +<p>The Rector and Maria were made happy. My father "carried it through," +by my desire. Uncle Ascott was delighted, and became a benefactor to +the parish; but it took Aunt Maria some years to forget that the +patronised curate had scorned the wife she had provided for him, only +to marry her own daughter.</p> + +<p>When I bade farewell to Adeline on our wedding day, she gave me her +cheek to kiss with a pretty grace, saying,</p> + +<p>"You see, Regie, I <i>am</i> your sister after all!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> + +<h3>WE COME HOME—MRS. BUNDLE QUITS SERVICE</h3> + + +<p>The day my wife and I returned from our wedding trip to Dacrefield was +a very happy one. We had a triumphal welcome from the tenants, my dear +father was beaming, the Rector no less so, and good old Nurse Bundle +showered blessings on the head of my bride.</p> + +<p>Frances was a great favourite with her. She was devoted to the old +woman, and her delicate tact made her adapt herself to all Mrs. +Bundle's peculiarities. She sat with her in the nursery that night +till nearly dinner-time.</p> + +<p>"I must take her away, Nursey," said I, coming in; "she'll be late for +dinner."</p> + +<p>"Go with your husband, my dear," said Nurse Bundle, "and the Lord +bless you both."</p> + +<p>"I'll come back, Nursey," said Frances; "you'll soon see me again."</p> + +<p>"Turn your face, my dear," said Nurse Bundle. "Hold up the candle, +Master Reginald. Ay, ay, that'll do, my deary. I'll see you again."</p> + +<p>We were still at dessert with my father, when Bowles came hastily into +the room with a pale face, and went up to my wife.</p> + +<p>"Did you send for Mrs. Bundle, ma'am, since you came down to dinner?" +he asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, dear no," said my wife.</p> + +<p>"Cook was going upstairs, and met Missis Bundle a little way out of +her room," Bowles explained; "and Missis Bundle she says, 'Don't stop +me,' says she, 'Mrs. Dacre wants me,' she says, and on she goes; and +cook waits and waits in her room for her, and at last she comes down +to me, and she says—"</p> + +<p>"But where <i>is</i> Mrs. Bundle?" cried my father.</p> + +<p>"That's circumstantially what nobody knows, sir," said Bowles with a +distracted air.</p> + +<p>We all three rushed upstairs. Mrs. Bundle was not to be found. My +father was frantic; my wife with tears lamented that some chance word +of hers might have led the half-childish old lady to fancy that she +wanted her.</p> + +<p>But a sudden conviction had seized upon me.</p> + +<p>"You need not trouble yourself, my darling," said I; "you are not the +Mrs. Dacre Nurse Bundle went to seek."</p> + +<p>I ran to my father's dressing-room. It was as I thought.</p> + +<p>Below my mother's portrait, on the spot where years before she had +held me in her arms with tears, I, weeping also, held her now in +mine—quite dead.</p> + +<h3>THE END</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>The Queen's Treasures Series</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Small Crown 8vo. With 8 Coloured Plates and Decorated +Title-Page, Covers, and End-Papers</i>.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>2s. 6d. net each</i>.</p> + +<p><b>COUSIN PHILLIS.</b></p> + +<p class="blockquot">By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaskell</span>. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Miss</span> M. V. +<span class="smcap">Wheelhouse</span>. With an introduction by <span class="smcap">Thomas +Seccombe</span>.</p> + +<p><b>SIX TO SIXTEEN.</b></p> +<p class="blockquot">By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Ewing</span>. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Miss</span> M. V. <span class="smcap">Wheelhouse</span>.</p> +<p><b>A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING.</b></p> +<p class="blockquot">By Mrs. Ewing. Illustrated by Miss M. V. Wheelhouse. +[<i>Nov</i>. 1908.</p> +<p><b>JAN OF THE WINDMILL.</b></p> +<p class="blockquot">By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Ewing</span>. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Miss</span> M. V. <span class="smcap">Wheelhouse</span>. +[<i>Jan</i>. 1909.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Others to follow</i>.</p> + +<h3>LONDON: GEORGE BELL & SONS </h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Flat Iron for a Farthing, by +Juliana Horatia Ewing + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING *** + +***** This file should be named 19859-h.htm or 19859-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/8/5/19859/ + +Produced by Kathryn Lybarger, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Flat Iron for a Farthing + or Some Passages in the Life of an only Son + +Author: Juliana Horatia Ewing + +Illustrator: M. V. Wheelhouse + +Release Date: November 18, 2006 [EBook #19859] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING *** + + + + +Produced by Kathryn Lybarger, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + [Illustration: Mrs. Bundle (see p. 3).] + + + A FLAT IRON FOR A + FARTHING + + or + + Some Passages in the Life of + an only Son + + + + by + + Juliana Horatia Ewing + + + + Illustrated by + + M. V. Wheelhouse + + + + George Bell & Sons + + London + + 1908. + + * * * * * + +Dedicated + +TO MY DEAR FATHER, + +AND TO HIS SISTER, MY DEAR AUNT MARY, + +IN MEMORY OF + +THEIR GOOD FRIEND AND NURSE, + +E. B. + +OBIT 3 MARCH, 1872, AET. 83. + +J. H. E. + + * * * * * + + + + +PREFACE + + +An apology is a sorry Preface to any book, however insignificant, and +yet I am anxious to apologise for the title of this little tale. The +story grew after the title had been (hastily) given, and so many other +incidents gathered round the incident of the purchase of the flat iron +as to make it no longer important enough to appear upon the title +page. It would, however, be dishonest to change the name of a tale +which is reprinted from a Magazine; and I can only apologise for an +appearance of affectation in it which was not intended. + +As the Dedication may seem to suggest that the character of Mrs. +Bundle is a portrait, I may be allowed to say that, except in +faithfulness, and tenderness, and high principle, she bears no +likeness to my father's dear old nurse. + +It may interest some of my child readers to know that the steep street +and the farthing wares are real remembrances out of my own childhood. +Though whether in these days of "advanced prices," the flat irons, the +gridirons with the three fish upon them, and all those other valuable +accessories to doll's housekeeping, which I once delighted to +purchase, can still be obtained for a farthing each, I have lived too +long out of the world of toys to be able to tell. + +J. H. E. + + * * * * * + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAP. + +I. MOTHERLESS + +II. "THE LOOK"--RUBENS--MRS. BUNDLE AGAIN + +III. THE DARK LADY--TROUBLE IMPENDING--BEAUTIFUL, GOLDEN MAMMA + +IV. AUNT MARIA--THE ENEMY ROUTED--LONDON TOWN + +V. MY COUSINS--MISS BLOMFIELD--THE BOY IN BLACK + +VI. THE LITTLE BARONET--DOLLS--CINDER PARCELS--THE OLD GENTLEMAN NEXT + DOOR--THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS + +VII. POLLY AND I RESOLVE TO BE "VERY RELIGIOUS"--DR. PEPJOHN--THE + ALMS-BOX--THE BLIND BEGGAR + +VIII. VISITING THE SICK + +IX. "PEACE BE TO THIS HOUSE" + +X. CONVALESCENCE--MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS--THE JOURNEY TO OAKFORD--OUR + WELCOME + +XI. THE TINSMITH'S--THE BEAVER BONNETS--A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING--I + FAIL TO SECURE A SISTER--RUBENS AND THE DOLL + +XII. THE LITTLE LADIES AGAIN--THE MEADS--THE DROWNED DOLL + +XIII. POLLY--THE PEW AND THE PULPIT--THE FATE OF THE FLAT IRON + +XIV. RUBENS AND I "DROP IN" AT THE RECTORY--GARDENS AND GARDENERS--MY + FATHER COMES FOR ME + +XV. NURSE BUNDLE IS MAGNANIMOUS--MR. GRAY--AN EXPLANATION WITH MY + FATHER + +XVI. THE REAL MR. GRAY--NURSE BUNDLE REGARDS HIM WITH DISFAVOUR + +XVII. I FAIL TO TEACH LATIN TO MRS. BUNDLE--THE RECTOR TEACHES ME + +XVIII. THE ASTHMATIC OLD GENTLEMAN AND HIS RIDDLES--I PLAY TRUANT + AGAIN--IN THE BIG GARDEN + +XIX. THE TUTOR--THE PARISH--A NEW CONTRIBUTOR TO THE ALMS-BOX + +XX. THE TUTOR'S PROPOSAL--A TEACHERS' MEETING + +XXI. OAKFORD ONCE MORE--THE SATIN CHAIRS--THE HOUSEKEEPER--THE LITTLE + LADIES AGAIN--FAMILY MONUMENTS + +XXII. NURSE BUNDLE FINDS A VOCATION--RAGGED ROBIN'S WIFE--MRS. + BUNDLE'S IDEAS ON HUSBANDS AND PUBLIC-HOUSES + +XXIII. I GO TO ETON--MY MASTER--I SERVE HIM WELL + +XXIV. COLLECTIONS--LEO'S LETTER--NURSE BUNDLE AND SIR LIONEL + +XXV. THE DEATH OF RUBENS--POLLY'S NEWS--LAST TIMES + +XXVI. I HEAR FROM MR. JONATHAN ANDREWES--YORKSHIRE--ALATHEA _alias_ + BETTY--WE BURY OUR DEAD OUT OF OUR SIGHT--VOICES OF THE NORTH + +XXVII. THE NEW RECTOR--AUNT MARIA TRIES TO FIND HIM A WIFE--MY FATHER + HAS A SIMILAR CARE FOR ME + +XXVIII. I BELIEVE MYSELF TO BE BROKEN-HEARTED--MARIA IN LOVE--I MAKE + AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE, WHICH IS NEITHER ACCEPTED NOR REFUSED + +XXIX. THE FUTURE LADY DAMER--POLLY HAS A SECRET--UNDER THE + MULBERRY-TREE + +XXX. I MEET THE HEIRESS--I FIND MYSELF MISTAKEN ON MANY POINTS--A NEW + KNOT IN THE FAMILY COMPLICATIONS + +XXXI. MY LADY FRANCES--THE FUTURE LADY DAMER--WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER + AT LAST + +XXXII. WE COME HOME--MRS. BUNDLE QUITS SERVICE + + * * * * * + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +MRS. BUNDLE _Frontispiece_ + +THE LANK LAWYER WAGGED MY HAND OF A MORNING, AND SAID, "AND HOW IS + MISS ELIZA'S LITTLE BEAU?" + +"BLESS ME, THERE'S THAT DOG!" + +"MR. BUCKLE, I BELIEVE?" + +SHE ROLLED ABRUPTLY OVER ON HER SEAT AND SCRAMBLED OFF BACKWARDS + +POLLY AND REGIE IN THE "PULPIT" AND THE "PEW" + +"ALL TOGETHER, IF YOU PLEASE!" + +IT WAS ONLY A QUIET DINNER PARTY, AND MISS CHISLETT HAD BROUGHT OUT + HER NEEDLEWORK + + * * * * * + + + + +A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING + +CHAPTER I + +MOTHERLESS + + +When the children clamour for a story, my wife says to me, "Tell them +how you bought a flat iron for a farthing." Which I very gladly do; +for three reasons. In the first place, it is about myself, and so I +take an interest in it. Secondly, it is about some one very dear to +me, as will appear hereafter. Thirdly, it is the only original story +in my somewhat limited collection, and I am naturally rather proud of +the favour with which it is invariably received. I think it was the +foolish fancy of my dear wife and children combined that this most +veracious history should be committed to paper. It was either +because--being so unused to authorship--I had no notion of +composition, and was troubled by a tyro tendency to stray from my +subject; or because the part played by the flat iron, though +important, was small; or because I and my affairs were most chiefly +interesting to myself as writer, and my family as readers; or from a +combination of all these reasons together, that my tale outgrew its +first title and we had to add a second, and call it "Some Passages in +the Life of an only Son." + +Yes, I was an only son. I was an only child also, speaking as the +world speaks, and not as Wordsworth's "simple child" spoke. But let me +rather use the "little maid's" reckoning, and say that I have, rather +than that I had, a sister. "Her grave is green, it may be seen." She +peeped into the world, and we called her Alice; then she went away +again and took my mother with her. It was my first great, bitter +grief. + +I remember well the day when I was led with much mysterious solemnity +to see my new sister. She was then a week old. + +"You must be quiet, sir," said Mrs. Bundle, a new member of our +establishment, "and not on no account make no noise to disturb your +dear, pretty mamma." + +Repressed by this accumulation of negatives, as well as by the size +and dignity of Mrs. Bundle's outward woman, I went a-tiptoe under her +large shadow to see my new acquisition. + +Very young children are not always pretty, but my sister was beautiful +beyond the wont of babies. It is an old simile, but she was like a +beautiful painting of a cherub. Her little face wore an expression +seldom seen except on a few faces of those who have but lately come +into this world, or those who are about to go from it. The hair that +just gilded the pink head I was allowed to kiss was one shade paler +than that which made a great aureole on the pillow about the pale face +of my "dear, pretty" mother. + +Years afterwards--in Belgium--I bought an old mediaeval painting of a +Madonna. That Madonna had a stiffness, a deadly pallor, a thinness of +face incompatible with strict beauty. But on the thin lips there was a +smile for which no word is lovely enough; and in the eyes was a pure +and far-seeing look, hardly to be imagined except by one who painted +(like Fra Angelico) upon his knees. The background (like that of many +religious paintings of the date) was gilt. With such a look and such a +smile my mother's face shone out of the mass of her golden hair the +day she died. For this I bought the picture; for this I keep it still. + +But to go back. + +I liked Mrs. Bundle. I had taken to her from the evening when she +arrived in a red shawl, with several bandboxes. My affection for her +was established next day, when she washed my face before dinner. My +own nurse was bony, her hands were all knuckles, and she washed my +face as she scrubbed the nursery floor on Saturdays. Mrs. Bundle's +plump palms were like pincushions, and she washed my face as if it had +been a baby's. + +On the evening of the day when I first saw Sister Alice, I took tea in +the housekeeper's room. My nurse was out for the evening, but Mrs. +Cadman from the village was of the party, and neither cakes nor +conversation flagged. Mrs. Cadman had hollow eyes, and (on occasion) a +hollow voice, which was very impressive. She wore curl-papers +continually, which once caused me to ask my nurse if she ever took +them out. + +"On Sundays she do," said Nurse. + +"She's very religious then, I suppose," said I; and I did really think +it a great compliment that she paid to the first day of the week. + +I was only just four years old at this time--an age when one is apt to +ask inconvenient questions and to make strange observations--when one +is struggling to understand life through the mist of novelties about +one, and the additional confusion of falsehood which it is so common +to speak or to insinuate without scruple to very young children. + +The housekeeper and Mrs. Cadman had conversed for some time after tea +without diverting my attention from the new box of bricks which Mrs. +Bundle (commissioned by my father) had brought from the town for me; +but when I had put all the round arches on the pairs of pillars, and +had made a very successful "Tower of Babel" with cross layers of the +bricks tapering towards the top, I had leisure to look round and +listen. + +"I never know'd one with that look as lived," Mrs. Cadman was saying, +in her hollow tone. "It took notice from the first. Mark my words, +ma'am, a sweeter child I never saw, but it's _too_ good and _too_ +pretty to be long for this world." + +It is difficult to say exactly how much one understands at four years +old, or rather how far one quite comprehends the things one perceives +in part. I understood, or felt, enough of what I heard, and of the +sympathetic sighs that followed Mrs. Cadman's speech, to make me +stumble over the Tower of Babel, and present myself at Mrs. Cadman's +knee with the question-- + +"Is mamma too pretty and good for this world, Mrs. Cadman?" + +I caught her elderly wink as quickly as the housekeeper, to whom it +was directed. I was not completely deceived by her answer. + +"Why, bless his dear heart, Master Reginald. Who did he think I was +talking about, love?" + +"My new baby sister," said I, without hesitation. + +"No such thing, lovey," said the audacious Mrs. Cadman; "housekeeper +and me was talking about Mrs. Jones's little boy." + +"Where does Mrs. Jones live?" I asked. + +"In London town, my dear." + +I sighed. I knew nothing of London town, and could not prove that Mrs. +Jones had no existence. But I felt dimly dissatisfied, in spite of a +slice of sponge-cake, and being put to bed (for a treat) in papa's +dressing-room. My sleep was broken by uneasy dreams, in which Mrs. +Jones figured with the face of Mrs. Cadman and her hollow voice. I had +a sensation that that night the house never went to rest. People came +in and out with a pretentious purpose of not awaking me. My father +never came to bed. I felt convinced that I heard the doctor's voice in +the passage. At last, while it was yet dark, and when I seemed to have +been sleeping and waking, waking and falling asleep again in my crib +for weeks, my father came in with a strange look upon his face, and +took me up in his arms, and wrapped a blanket round me, saying mamma +wanted to kiss me, but I must be very good and make no noise. There +was little fear of that! I gazed in utter silence at the sweet face +that was whiter than the sheet below it, the hair that shone brighter +than ever in the candlelight. Only when I kissed her, and she had laid +her wan hand on my head, I whispered to my father, "Why is mamma so +cold?" + +With a smothered groan he carried me back to bed, and I cried myself +to sleep. It was too true, then. She was too good and too pretty for +this world, and before sunrise she was gone. + +Before the day was ended Sister Alice left us also. She never knew a +harder resting-place than our mother's arms. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +"THE LOOK"--RUBENS--MRS. BUNDLE AGAIN + + +My widowed father and I were both terribly lonely. The depths of his +loss in the lovely and lovable wife who had been his constant +companion for nearly six years I could not fathom at the time. For my +own part, I was quite as miserable as I have ever been since, and I +doubt if I shall ever feel such overwhelming desolation again, unless +the same sorrow befalls me as then befell him. + +I "fretted"--as the servants expressed it--to such an extent as to +affect my health; and I fancy it was because my father's attention was +called to the fact that I was fast fading after the mother and sister +whose death (and my own loneliness) I bewailed, that he roused himself +from his own grief to comfort mine. Once more I was "dressed" after +tea. Of late my bony nurse had not thought it necessary to go through +this ceremony, and I had crept about in the same crape-covered frock +from breakfast to bedtime. + +Now I came down to dessert again, and though I think the empty place +at the end of the table gave my father a fresh shock when I took my +old post by him, yet I fancy the lonely evening was less lonely for my +presence. + +From his intense indulgence I think I dimly gathered that he thought +me ill. I combined this in my mind with a speech of my nurse's that I +had overheard, and which gave me the horrors at the time--"He's got +_the look_! It's his poor ma over again!"--and I felt a sort of +melancholy self-importance not uncommon with children who are out of +health. + +I may say here that my nurse had a quality very common amongst +uneducated people. She was "sensational;" and her custom of going over +all the circumstances of my mother's death and funeral (down to the +price of the black paramatta of which her own dress was composed) with +her friends, when she took me out walking, had not tended to make me +happier or more cheerful. + +That night I ate more from my father's plate than I had eaten for +weeks. As I lay after dinner with my head upon his breast, he stroked +my curls with a tender touch that seemed to heal my griefs, and said, +almost in a tone of remorse, + +"What can papa do for you, my poor dear boy?" + +I looked up quickly into his face. + +"What would Regie like?" he persisted. + +I quite understood him now, and spoke out boldly the desires of my +heart. + +"Please, papa, I should like Mrs. Bundle for a nurse; and I do very +much want Rubens." + +"And who is Rubens?" asked my father. + +"Oh, please, it's a dog," I said. "It belongs to Mr. Mackenzie at the +school. And it's such a little dear, all red and white; and it licked +my face when nurse and I were there yesterday, and I put my hand in +its mouth, and it rolled over on its back, and it's got long ears, and +it followed me all the way home, and I gave it a piece of bread, and +it can sit up, and"-- + +"But, my little man," interrupted my father--and he had absolutely +smiled at my catalogue of marvels--"if Rubens belongs to Mr. +Mackenzie, and is such a wonderful fellow, I'm afraid Mr. Mackenzie +won't part with him." + +"He would," I said, "but--" and I paused, for I feared the barrier was +insurmountable. + +"But what?" said my father. + +"He wants ten shillings for him, Nurse says." + +"If that's all, Regie," said my father, "you and I will go and buy +Rubens to-morrow morning." + +Rubens was a little red and white spaniel of much beauty and sagacity. +He was the prettiest, gentlest, most winning of playfellows. With him +by my side, I now ran merrily about, instead of creeping moodily at +the heels of nurse and her friends. Abundantly occupied in testing the +tricks he knew, and teaching him new ones, I had the less leisure to +listen open-mouthed to cadaverous gossip of the Cadman class. Finally, +when I had bidden him good-night a hundred times, with absolutely +fraternal embraces, I was soothed by the light weight of his head +resting on my foot. He seemed to chase the hideous fancies which had +hitherto passed from nurse's daytime conversation to trouble my night +visions, as he would chase a water-fowl from a reedy marsh, and I +slept--as he did--peacefully. + +Nor was this all. My other wish was also to be fulfilled, but not +without some vexations beforehand. It was by a certain air and tone +which my nurse suddenly assumed towards me, and which it is difficult +to describe by any other word than "heighty-teighty," and also by dark +hints of changes which she hoped (but seemed far from believing) would +be for my good, and finally, by downright lamentations and tragic +inquiries as to what she had done to be parted from her boy, and +"could her chickabiddy have the heart to drive away his loving and +faithful nursey," that I learned that it was contemplated to supersede +her by some one else, and that if she did not know that I was to blame +in the matter, she at any rate believed me to have influence enough to +obtain a reversal of the decree. That Mrs. Bundle was to be her +successor I gathered from allusions to "your great fat bouncing women +that would eat their heads off; but as to cleaning out a nursery--let +them see!" But her most masterly stroke was a certain conversation +with Mrs. Cadman carried on in my hearing. + +"Have you ever notice, Mrs. Cadman," inquired my bony nurse of her not +less bony visitor--"Have you ever notice how them stout people as +looks so good-natured as if butter wouldn't melt in their mouths is +that wicked and cruel underneath?" And then followed a series of +nurse's most ghastly anecdotes, relative to fat mothers who had +ill-treated their children, fat nurses who had nearly been the death +of their unfortunate charges, fat female murderers, and a fat +acquaintance of her own, who was "taken" in apoplexy after a fit of +rage with her husband. + +"What a warning! what a moral!" said Mrs. Cadman. She meant it for a +pious observation, but I felt that the warning and the moral were for +me. And not even the presence of Rubens could dispel the darkness of +my dreams that night. + +Alternately goaded and caressed by my nurse, who now laid aside a +habit she had of beating a tattoo with her knuckles on my head when I +was naughty, to the intense confusion and irritation of my brain, I +at last resolved to beg my father to let her remain with us. I felt +that it was--as she had pointed out--intense ingratitude on my part to +wish to part with her, and I said as much when I went down to dessert +that evening. Morever, I now lived in vague fear of those terrible +qualities which lay hidden beneath Mrs. Bundle's benevolent exterior. + +"If nurse has been teasing you about the matter," said my father, with +a frown, "that would decide me to get rid of her, if I had not so +decided before. As to your not liking Mrs. Bundle now--My dear little +son, you must learn to know your own mind. You told me you wanted Mrs. +Bundle--by very good luck I have been able to get hold of her, and +when she comes you must make the best of her." + +She came the next day, and my bony nurse departed. She wept +indignantly, I wept remorsefully, and then waited in terror for the +manifestation of Mrs. Bundle's cruel propensities. + +I waited in vain. The reign of Mrs. Bundle was a reign of peace and +plenty, of loving-kindness and all good things. Moreover it was a +reign of wholesomeness, both for body and mind. She did not give me +cheese and beer from her own supper when she was in a good temper, nor +pound my unfortunate head with her knuckles if I displeased her. She +was strict in the maintenance of a certain old-fashioned nursery +etiquette, which obliged me to put away my chair after meals, fold my +clothes at bedtime, put away my toys when I had done with them, say +"please," "thank you," grace before and after meals, prayers night and +morning, a hymn in bed, and the Church Catechism on Sunday. She +snubbed the maids who alluded in my presence to things I could not or +should not understand, and she directed her own conversation to me, on +matters suitable to my age, instead of talking over my childish head +to her gossips. The stories of horror and crime, the fore-doomed +babies, the murders, the mysterious whispered communications faded +from my untroubled brain. Nurse Bundle's tales were of the young +masters and misses she had known. Her worst domestic tragedy was about +the boy who broke his leg over the chair he had failed to put away +after breakfast. Her romances were the good old Nursery Legends of +Dick Whittington, the Babes in the Wood, and so forth. My dreams +became less like the columns of a provincial newspaper. I imagined +myself another Marquis of Carabas, with Rubens in boots. I made a +desert island in the garden, which only lacked the geography-book +peculiarity of "water all round" it. I planted beans in the fond hope +that they would tower to the skies and take me with them. I became--in +fancy--Lord Mayor of London, and Mrs. Bundle shared my civic throne +and dignities, and we gave Rubens six beefeaters and a barge to wait +upon his pleasure. + +Life, in short, was utterly changed for me. I grew strong, and stout, +and well, and happy. And I loved Nurse Bundle. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE DARK LADY--TROUBLE IMPENDING--BEAUTIFUL, GOLDEN MAMMA + + +So two years passed away. Nurse Bundle was still with me. With her I +"did lessons" after a fashion. I learned to read, I had many of the +Psalms and a good deal of poetry--sacred and secular--by heart. In an +old-fashioned, but slow and thorough manner, I acquired the first +outlines of geography, arithmetic, etc., and what Mrs. Bundle taught +me I repeated to Rubens. But I don't think he ever learned the +"capital towns of Europe," though we studied them together under the +same oak tree. + +We had a happy two years of it together under the Bundle dynasty, and +then trouble came. + +I was never fond of demonstrative affection from strangers. The ladies +who lavish kisses and flattery upon one's youthful head after eating +papa's good dinner--keeping a sharp protective eye on their own silk +dresses, and perchance pricking one with a brooch or pushing a curl +into one eye with a kid-gloved finger--I held in unfeigned abhorrence. +But over and above my natural instinct against the unloving fondling +of drawing-room visitors, I had a special and peculiar antipathy to +Miss Eliza Burton. + +At first, I think I rather admired her. Her rolling eyes, the black +hair plastered low upon her forehead,--the colour high, but never +changeable or delicate--the amplitude and rustle of her skirts, the +impressiveness of her manner, her very positive matureness, were just +what the crude taste of childhood is apt to be fascinated by. She was +the sister of my father's man of business; and she and her brother +were visiting at my home. She really looked well in the morning, +"toned down" by a fresh, summer muslin, and all womanly anxiety to +relieve my father of the trouble of making the tea for breakfast. + +"Dear Mr. Dacre, _do_ let me relieve you of that task," she cried, her +ribbons fluttering over the sugar-basin. "I never like to see a +gentleman sacrificing himself for his guests at breakfast. You have +enough to do at dinner, carving large joints, and jointing those +terrible birds. At breakfast a gentleman should have no trouble but +the cracking of his own egg and the reading of his own newspaper. Now +do let me!" + +Miss Burton's long fingers were almost on the tea-caddy; but at that +moment my father quietly opened it, and began to measure out the tea. + +"I never trouble my lady visitors with this," he said, quietly. "I am +only too well accustomed to it." + +Child as I was, I felt well satisfied that my father would let no one +fill my mother's place. For so it was, and all Miss Burton's efforts +failed to put her, even for a moment, at the head of his table. + +I do not quite know how or when it was that I began to realize that +such was her effort. I remember once hearing a scrap of conversation +between our most respectable and respectful butler and the +housekeeper--"behind the scenes"--as the former worthy came from the +breakfast-room. + +"And how's the new missis this morning, Mr. Smith?" asked the +housekeeper, with a bitterness not softened by the prospect of +possible dethronement. + +"Another try for the tea-tray, ma'am," replied Smith, "but it's no +go." + +"A brazen, black-haired old maid!" cried the housekeeper. "To think of +her taking the place of that sweet angel, Mrs. Dacre (and she barely +two years in her grave), and pretending to act a mother's part by the +poor boy and all. I've no patience!" + +On one excuse or another, the Burtons contrived to extend their visit; +and the prospect of a marriage between my father and Miss Burton was +now discussed too openly behind his back for me to fail to hear it. +Then Nurse Bundle on this subject hardly exercised her usual +discretion in withholding me from servants' gossip, and servants' +gossip from me. Her own indignation was strongly aroused, and I had no +difficulty in connecting her tearful embraces, and her allusions to my +dead mother, with the misfortune we all believed to be impending. + +[Illustration: The lank lawyer wagged my hand of a morning, and said, +"And how is Miss Eliza's little beau?"] + +At first I had admired Miss Burton's bouncing looks. Then my head had +been turned to some extent by her flattery, and by the establishment +of that most objectionable of domestic jokes, the parody of love +affairs in connection with children. Miss Burton called me her little +sweetheart, and sent me messages, and vowed that I was quite a little +man of the world, and then was sure that I was a desperate flirt. The +lank lawyer wagged my hand of a morning, and said, "And how is +Miss Eliza's little beau?" And I laughed, and looked important, +and talked rather louder, and escaped as often as I could from the +nursery, and endeavoured to act up to the character assigned me with +about as much grace as AEsop's donkey trying to dance. I must have +become a perfect nuisance to any sensible person at this period, and +indeed my father had an interview with Nurse Bundle on the subject. + +"Master Reginald seems to me to be more troublesome than he used to +be, nurse," said my father. + +"Indeed you say true, sir," said Mrs. Bundle, only too glad to reply; +"but it's the drawing-room and not the nursery as does it. Miss Burton +is always a begging for him to be allowed to stay up at nights and to +lunch in the dining-room, and to come down of a morning, and to have a +half-holiday in an afternoon; and, saving your better knowledge, sir, +it's a bad thing to break into the regular ways of children. It ain't +for their happiness, nor for any one else's." + +"You are perfectly right, perfectly right," said my father, "and it +shall not occur again. Ah! my poor boy," he added in an irrepressible +outburst, "you suffer for lack of a mother's care. I do what I can, +but a man cannot supply a woman's place to a child." + +Mrs. Bundle's feelings at this soliloquy may be imagined. "You might +have knocked me down with a feather, sir," she assured the butler +(unlikely as it seemed!) in describing the scene afterwards. She found +strength, however, to reply to my father's remark. + +"Indeed, sir, a mother's place never can be filled to a child by no +one whatever. Least of all such a mother as he had in your dear lady. +But he's a boy, sir, and not a girl, and in all reason a father is +what he'll chiefly look to in a year or two. And for the meanwhile, +sir, I ask you, could Master Reginald look better or behave better +than he did afore the company come? It's only natural as smart ladies +who knows nothing whatever of children, and how they should be brought +up, and what's for their good, should think it a kindness to spoil +them. Any one may see the lady has no notion of children, and would be +the ruin of Master Reginald if she had much to do with him; but when +the company's gone, sir, and he's left quiet with his papa, you'll +find him as good as any young gentleman needs to be, if you'll excuse +my freedom in speaking, sir." + +Whatever my father thought of Mrs. Bundle's freedom of speech, he only +said, + +"Master Reginald will be quite under your orders for the future, +Nurse," and so dismissed her. + +And Mrs. Bundle having "said her say," withdrew to say it over again +in confidence to the housekeeper. + +As for me, if my vanity was stronger than my good taste for a while, +the quickness of childish instinct soon convinced me that Miss Burton +had no real affection for me. Then I was puzzled by her spasmodic +attentions when my father was in the room, and her rough repulses when +I "bothered" her at less appropriate moments. I got tired of her, too, +of the sound of her voice, of her black hair and unchanging red +cheeks. And from the day that I caught her beating Rubens for lying on +the edge of her dress, I lived in terror of her. Those rolling black +eyes had not a pleasant look when the lady was out of temper. And was +she really to be the new mistress of the house? To take the place of +my fair, gentle, beautiful mother? That wave of household gossip which +for ever surges behind the master's back was always breaking over me +now, in expressions of pity for the motherless child of "the dear lady +dead and gone." + +"I don't like black hair," I announced one day at luncheon; "I like +beautiful, shining, golden hair, like poor mamma's." + +"Don't talk nonsense, Reginald," said my father, angrily, and shortly +afterwards I was dismissed to the nursery. + +If I had only had my childish memory to trust to, I do not think that +I could have kept so clear a remembrance of my mother as I had. But in +my father's dressing-room there hung a water-colour sketch of his +young wife, with me--her first baby--on her lap. It was a very happy +portrait. The little one was nestled in her arms, and she herself was +just looking up with a bright smile of happiness and pride. That look +came full at the spectator, and perhaps it was because it was so very +lifelike that I had (ever since I could remember) indulged a curious +freak of childish sentiment by nodding to the picture and saying, +"Good-morning, mamma," whenever I came into the room. Such little +superstitions become part of one's life, and I freely confess that I +salute that portrait still! I remember, too, that as time went on I +lost sight of the fact that it was I who lay on my mother's lap, and +always regarded the two as Mamma and Sister Alice--that ever-baby +sister whom I had once kissed, and no more. I generally saw them at +least once a day, for it was my privilege to play in my father's +dressing-room during part of his toilet, and we had a stereotyped +joke between us in reference to his shaving, which always ended in my +receiving a piece of the creamy lather on the tip of my nose. + +But it was one evening when the shadow hanging over the household was +deepest upon me, that I slipped unobserved out of the drawing-room +where Miss Burton was "performing" on my mother's piano, and crept +slowly and sadly upstairs. I went slowly, partly out of my heavy +grief, and partly because I carried Rubens in my arms. Had not the +lawyer kicked him because he lay upon the pedal? I was resolved that +after such an insult he should not so much as have the trouble of +walking upstairs. So I carried him, and as I went I condoled with him. + +"Did the nasty man kick him? My poor Ru, my darling, dear Ru! The +pedal is yours, and not his, and the whole house is yours, and not his +nor Miss Burton's; and oh, I wish they would go!" + +As I whined, Rubens whined; as I kissed him he licked me, and the +result was unfavourable to balance, and I was obliged to sit down on a +step. And as I sat I wept, and as I wept that overpowering mother-need +came over me, which drives even the little ragamuffin of the gutter to +carry his complaints to "mother" for comfort and redress. And I took +up Rubens in my arms again, sobbing, and saying, "I shall go to +Mamma!" and so weeping and in the darkness we crept into the +dressing-room. + +I could see nothing, but I knew well where "Mamma" was, and standing +under the picture, I sobbed out my incoherent complaint. + +"Good-evening, Mamma! Good-evening, Sister Alice! Please, Mamma, it's +me and Rubens." (Sobs on my part, and frantic attempts by Rubens to +lick every inch of my face at once.) "And please, Mamma, we're very +miser-r-r-r-rable. And oh! please, Mamma, don't let papa marry Miss +Burton. Please, please don't, dear, beautiful, golden Mamma! And oh! +how we wish you could come back! Rubens and I." + +My voice died away with a wail which was dismally echoed by Rubens. +Then, suddenly, in the darkness came a sob that was purely human, and +I was clasped in a woman's arms, and covered with tender kisses and +soothing caresses. For one wild moment, in my excitement, and the +boundless faith of childhood, I thought my mother had heard me, and +come back. + +But it was only Nurse Bundle. She had been putting away some clothes +in my father's bedroom, and had been drawn to the dressing-room by +hearing my voice. + +I think this scene decided her to take some active steps. I feel +convinced that in some way it was through her influence that a letter +of invitation was despatched the following day to Aunt Maria. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AUNT MARIA--THE ENEMY ROUTED--LONDON TOWN + + +Aunt Maria was my father's sister. She was married to a wealthy +gentleman, and had a large family of children. It was from her that we +originally got Nurse Bundle; and anecdotes of her and of my cousins, +and wonderful accounts of London (where they lived), had long figured +conspicuously in Mrs. Bundle's nursery chronicles. + +Aunt Maria came, and Uncle Ascott came with her. + +It is not altogether without a reason that I speak of them in this +order. Aunt Maria was the active partner of their establishment. She +was a clever, vigorous, well-educated, inartistic, kindly, managing +woman. She was not exactly "meddling," but when she thought it her +duty to interfere in a matter, no delicacy of scruples, and no +nervousness baulked the directness of her proceedings. When she was +most sweeping or uncompromising, Uncle Ascott would say, "My dear +Maria!" But it was generally from a spasm of nervous cowardice, and +not from any deliberate wish to interrupt Aunt Maria's course of +action. He trusted her entirely. + +Aunt Maria was very shrewd, and that long interview with Nurse Bundle +in her own room was hardly needed to acquaint her with the condition +of domestic politics in our establishment. She "took in" the Burtons +with one glance. The ladies "fell out" the following evening. The +Burtons left Dacrefield the next morning, and at lunch Aunt Maria +"pulled them to pieces" with as little remorse as a cook would pluck a +partridge. I never saw Miss Eliza Burton again. + +Aunt Maria did not fondle or spoil me. She might perhaps have shown +more tenderness to her brother's only and motherless child; but, after +Miss Burton, hers was a fault on the right side. She had a kindly +interest in me, and she showed it by asking me to pay her a visit in +London. + +"It will do the child good, Regie," she said to my father. "He will be +with other children, and all our London sights will be new to him. I +will take every care of him, and you must come up and fetch him back. +It will do you good too." + +"To be sure!" chimed in Uncle Ascott, patting me good-naturedly on the +head; "Master Reginald will fancy himself in Fairy Land. There are the +Zoological Gardens, and Madame Tussaud's Waxwork Exhibition, and the +Pantomime, and no one knows what besides! We shall make him quite at +home! He and Helen are just the same age, I think, and Polly's a year +or so younger, eh, mamma?" + +"Nineteen months," said Aunt Maria, decisively; and she turned once +more to my father, upon whom she was urging certain particulars. + +It was with unfeigned joy that I heard my father say, + +"Well, thank you, Maria. I do think it will do him good. And I'll +certainly come and look you and Robert up myself." + +There was only one drawback to my pleasure, when the much anticipated +time of my first visit to London came. Aunt Maria did not like dogs; +Uncle Ascott too said that "they were very rural and nice for the +country, but that they didn't do in a town house. Besides which, +Regie," he added, "such a pretty dog as Rubens would be sure to be +stolen. And you wouldn't like that." + +"I will take good care of Rubens, my boy," added my father; and with +this promise I was obliged to content myself. + +The excitement and pleasure of the various preparations for my visit +were in themselves a treat. There had been some domestic discussion as +to a suitable box for my clothes, and the matter was not quickly +settled. There happened to be no box of exactly the convenient size in +the house, and it was proposed to pack my things with Nurse Bundle's +in one of the larger cases. This was a disappointment to my dignity; +and I ventured to hint that I "should like a trunk all to myself, like +a grown-up gentleman," without, however, much hope that my wishes +would be fulfilled. The surprise was all the pleasanter when, on the +day before our departure, there arrived by the carrier's cart from our +nearest town a small, daintily-finished trunk, with a lock and key to +it, and my initials in brass nails upon the outside. It was a parting +gift from my father. + +"I like young ladies and gentlemen to have things nice about 'em," +Nurse Bundle observed, as we prepared to pack my trunk. "Then they +takes a pride in their things, and so it stands to reason they takes +more care of 'em." + +To this excellent sentiment I gave my heartiest assent, and proceeded +to illustrate it by the fastidious care with which I selected and +folded the clothes I wished to take. As I examined my socks for signs +of wear and tear, and then folded them by the ingenious process of +grasping the heels and turning them inside out, in imitation of Nurse +Bundle, an idea struck me, based upon my late reading and approaching +prospects of travel. + +"Nurse," said I, "I think I should like to learn to darn socks, +because, you know, I might want to know how, if I was cast away on a +desert island." + +"If ever you find yourself on a desolate island, Master Reginald," +said Nurse Bundle, "just you write straight off to me, and I'll come +and do them kind of things for you." + +"Well," said I, "only mind you bring Rubens, if I haven't got him." + +For I had dim ideas that some Robinson Crusoe adventures might befall +me before I returned home from this present expedition. + +My father's place was about sixty miles from London. Mr. and Mrs. +Ascott had come down in their own carriage, and were to return the +same way. + +I was to go with them, and Nurse Bundle also. She was to sit in the +rumble of the carriage behind. Every particular of each new +arrangement afforded me great amusement; and I could hardly control my +impatience for the eventful day to arrive. + +It came at last. There was very early breakfast for us all in the +dining-room. No appetite, however, had I; and very cruel I thought +Aunt Maria for insisting that I should swallow a certain amount of +food, as a condition of being allowed to go at all. My enforced +breakfast over, I went to look for Rubens. Ever since the day when it +was first settled that I should go, the dear dog had kept close, very +close at my heels. That depressed and aimless wandering about which +always afflicts the dogs of the household when any of the family are +going away from home was strong upon him. After the new trunk came +into my room, Rubens took into his head a fancy for lying upon it; and +though the brass nails must have been very uncomfortable, and though +my bed was always free to him, on the box he was determined to be, and +on the box he lay for hours together. + +It was on the box that I found him, in the portico, despite the cords +which now added a fresh discomfort to his self-chosen resting-place. I +called to him, but though he wagged his tail he seemed disinclined to +move, and lay curled up with one eye shut and one fixed on the +carriage at the door. + +"He's been trying to get into the carriage, sir," said the butler. + +"You want to go too, poor Ruby, don't you?" I said; and I went in +search of meats to console him. + +He accepted a good breakfast from my hands with gratitude, and then +curled himself up with one eye watchful as before. The reason of his +proceedings was finally made evident by his determined struggles to +accompany us at the last; and it was not till he had been forcibly +shut up in the coach-house that we were able to start. My grief at +parting with him was lessened by the distraction of another question. + +Of all places about our equipage, I should have preferred riding with +the postilion. Short of that, I was most anxious to sit behind in the +rumble with my nurse. This favour was at length conceded, and after a +long farewell from my father, gilded with a sovereign in my pocket, I +was, with a mountain of wraps, consigned to the care of Nurse Bundle +in the back seat. + +The dew was still on the ground, the birds sang their loudest, the +morning air was fresh and delicious, and before we had driven five +miles on our way I could have eaten three such breakfasts as the one I +had rejected at six o'clock. In the first two villages through which +we drove people seemed to be only just getting up and beginning the +day's business. In one or two "genteel" houses the blinds were still +down; in reference to which I resolved that when _I_ grew up I would +not waste the best part of the day in bed, with the sun shining, the +birds singing, the flowers opening, and country people going about +their business, all beyond my closed windows. + +"Nurse, please, I should like always to have breakfast at six o'clock. +Do you hear, Nursey?" I added, for Mrs. Bundle feigned to be absorbed +in contemplating a flock of sheep which were being driven past us. + +"Very well, my dear. We'll see." + +That "we'll see" of Nurse Bundle's was a sort of moral soothing-syrup +which she kept to allay inconvenient curiosity and over-pertinacious +projects in the nursery. + +I had soon reason to decide that if I had breakfast at six, luncheon +would not be unacceptable at half-past ten, at about which time I lost +sight of the scenery and confined my attention to a worsted workbag in +which Nurse Bundle had a store of most acceptable buns. Halting +shortly after this to water the horses, a glass of milk was got for me +from a wayside inn, over the door of which hung a small gate, on whose +bars the following legend was painted:-- + + "This gate hangs well + And hinders none. + Refresh and pay, + And travel on." + +"Did you put that up?" I inquired of the man who brought my milk. + +"No, sir. It's been there long enough," was his reply. + +"What does 'hinders none' mean?" I asked. + +The man looked back, and considered the question. + +"It means as it's not in the way of nothing. It don't hinder nobody," +he replied at last. + +"It couldn't if it wanted to," said I; "for it doesn't reach across +the road. If it did, I suppose it would be a tollbar." + +"He's a rum little chap, that!" said the waiter to Nurse Bundle, when +he had taken back my empty glass. And he unmistakably nodded at me. + +"What is a rum little chap, Nurse?" I inquired when we had fairly +started once more. + +"It's very low language," said Mrs. Bundle, indignantly; and this fact +depressed me for several miles. + +At about half-past eleven we rattled into Farnham, and stopped to +lunch at "The Bush." I was delighted to get down from my perch, and to +stretch my cramped legs by running about in the charming garden behind +that celebrated inn. Dim bright memories are with me still of the +long-windowed parlour opening into a garden verdant with grass, and +stately yew hedges, and formal clipped trees; gay, too, with bright +flowers, and mysterious with a walk winding under an arch of the yew +hedge to the more distant bowling-green. On one side of this arch an +admirably-carved stone figure in broadcoat and ruffles played +perpetually upon a stone fiddle to an equally spirited shepherdess in +hoop and high heels, who was for ever posed in dancing posture upon +her pedestal and never danced away. As I wandered round the garden +whilst luncheon was being prepared, I was greatly taken with these +figures, and wondered if it might be that they were an enchanted +prince and princess turned to stone by some wicked witch, envious of +their happiness in the peaceful garden amid the green alleys and +fragrant flowers. As I ate my luncheon I felt as if I were consuming +what was their property, and pondered the supposition that some day +the spell might be broken, and the stone-bound couple came down from +those high pedestals, and go dancing and fiddling into the Farnham +streets. + +They showed no symptoms of moving whilst we remained, and, duly +refreshed, we now proceeded on our way. I rejected the offer of a seat +inside the carriage with scorn, and Nurse and I clambered back to our +perch. No easy matter for either of us, by the way!--Nurse Bundle +being so much too large, and I so much too small, to compass the feat +with anything approaching to ease. + +I was greatly pleased with the dreary beauties of Bagshot Heath, and +Nurse Bundle (to whom the whole journey was familiar) enlivened this +part of our way by such anecdotes of Dick Turpin, the celebrated +highwayman, as she deemed suitable for my amusement. With what +interest I gazed at the little house by the roadside where Turpin was +wont to lodge, and where, arriving late one night, he demanded +beef-steak for supper in terms so peremptory that, there being none in +the house, the old woman who acted as his housekeeper was obliged to +walk, then and there, to the nearest town to procure it! This and +various other incidents of the robber's career I learned from Nurse +Bundle, who told me that traditions of his exploits and character +were still fresh in the neighbouring villages. + +At Virginia Water we dined and changed horses. We stayed here longer +than was necessary, that I might see the lake and the ship; and Uncle +Ascott gave sixpence to an old man with a wooden leg who told us all +about it. And still I declined an inside place, and went back with +Nurse Bundle to the rumble. Early rising and the long drive began to +make me sleepy. The tame beauties of the valley of the Thames drew +little attention from my weary eyes; and I do not remember much about +the place where we next halted, except that the tea tasted of hay, and +that the bread and butter were good. + +I gazed dreamily at Hounslow, despite fresh tales of Dick Turpin; and +all the successive "jogs" by which Nurse called my incapable attention +to the lamplighters, the shops, the bottles in the chemists' windows, +and Hyde Park, failed to rouse me to any intelligent appreciation of +the great city, now that I had reached it. After a long weary dream of +rattle and bustle, and dim lamps, and houses stretching upwards like +Jack's beanstalk through the chilly and foggy darkness, the carriage +stopped with one final jolt in a quiet and partially-lighted square; +and I was lifted down, and staggered into a house where the light was +as abundant and overpowering as it was feeble and inefficient without, +and, cramped in my limbs, and smothered with shawls, I could only beg +in my utter weariness to be put to bed. + +Aunt Maria was always sensible, and generally kind. + +"Bring him at once to his room, Mrs. Bundle," she said, "and get his +clothes off, and I will bring him some hot wine and water and a few +rusks." As in a dream, I was undressed, my face and hands washed, my +prayers said in a somewhat perfunctory fashion, and my evening hymn +commuted in consideration of my fatigues for the beautiful verse, "I +will lay me down in peace, and take my rest," etc.; and by the time +that I sank luxuriously between the clean sheets, I was almost +sufficiently restored to appreciate the dainty appearance of my room. +Then Aunt Maria brought me the hot wine and water flavoured with +sleep-giving cloves, and Nurse folded my clothes, and tucked me up, +and left me, with the friendly reflection of the lamps without to keep +me company. + +I do not think I had really been to sleep, but I believe I was dozing, +when I fancied that I heard the familiar sound of Rubens lapping water +from the toilette jug in my room at home. Just conscious that I was +not there, and that Rubens could not be here, the sound began to +trouble me. At first I was too sleepy to care to look round. Then as I +became more awake and the sound not less distinct, I felt fidgety and +frightened, and at last called faintly for Nurse Bundle. + +Then the sound stopped. I could hardly breathe, and had just resolved +upon making a brave sally for assistance, when--plump! _something_ +alighted on my bed, and, wildly impossible as it seemed, Rubens +himself waggled up to my pillow, and began licking my face as if his +life depended on laying my nose and all other projecting parts of my +countenance flat with my cheeks. + +How he had got to London we never knew. As he made an easy escape from +the coach-house at Dacrefield, it was always supposed that he simply +followed the carriage, and had the wit to hide himself when we +stopped on the road. He was terribly tired. He might well be thirsty! + +I levied large contributions on the box of rusks which Aunt Maria had +left by my bedside, for his benefit, and he supped well. + +Then he curled himself up in his own proper place at my feet. He was +intensely self-satisfied, and expressed his high idea of his own +exploit by self-gratulatory "grumphs," as after describing many mystic +circles, and scraping up the fair Marseilles quilt on some plan of his +own, he brought his nose and tail together in a satisfactory position +in his nest, and we passed our first night in London in dreamless and +profound sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +MY COUSINS--MISS BLOMFIELD--THE BOY IN BLACK + + +My first letter to my father was the work of several days, and as my +penmanship was not of a rapid order, it cost me a good deal of +trouble. When it was finished it ran thus: + +MY DEAR PAPA, + + I hope you are quite well. i am quite well. Rubens is here + and he is quite well. We dont no how he got here but i am + verry glad. Ant Maria said well he cant be sent back now so + he sleeps on my bed and i like London it is a kweer place + the houses are very big and i like my cussens pretty well + they are all gals their nozes are very big i like Polly. + +Nurse is quite well so good-bye. + +i am your very loving son, + +REGINALD DACRE. + +Though I cannot defend the spelling of the above document, I must say +that it does not leave much to be added to the portrait of my cousins. +But it will be more polite to introduce them separately, as they were +presented to me. + +I heard them, by the bye, before I saw them. It was whilst I was +dressing, the morning after my arrival, that I heard sounds in the +room below, which were interpreted by Nurse as being "Miss Maria +doing her music." The peculiarity of Miss Maria's music was that after +a scramble over the notes, suggestive of some one running to get +impetus for a jump, and when the ear waited impatiently for the +consummation, Miss Maria baulked her leap, so to speak, and got no +farther, and began the scramble again, and stuck once more, and so on. +And as, whilst finding the running passage quite too much for one +hand, she struggled on with a different phrase in the other hand at +the same time, instead of practising the two hands separately, her +chances of final success seemed remote indeed. Then I heard the +performance in peculiar circumstances. Nurse Bundle had opened my +window, and about two minutes after my cousin commenced her practice, +an organ-grinder in the street below began his. The subject of poor +Maria's piece knew no completion, as she stuck halfway; but the +organ-grinder's melodies only stopped for a touch to the mechanism, +and Black-Eyed Susan passed into the Old Hundredth, awkwardly, but +with hardly a perceptible pause. The effect of the joint performance +was at first ludicrous, and by degrees maddening, especially when we +had come to the Old Hundredth, which was so familiar in connection +with the words of the Psalm. + +"Three and four and--" began poor Maria afresh, with desperate +resolution; and then off she went up the key-board; "one and two and +three and four and, one and two and three and four and--" + +"--joy--His--courts--un--to," ground the organ in the inevitable +pause. And then my cousin took courage and made another start--"Three +and four and one and two and," etc.; but at the old place the nasal +notes of the other instrument evoked "al--ways," from my memory; and +Maria pausing in despair, the Old Hundredth finished triumphantly, +"For--it--is--seemly--so--to--do." + +At half-past eight Maria stopped abruptly in the middle of her run, +and Nurse took me down to the school-room for breakfast. + +The school-room was high and narrow, with a very old carpet, and a +very old piano, some books, two globes, and a good deal of feminine +rubbish in the way of old work-baskets, unfinished sewing, etc. There +were two long windows, the lower halves of which were covered with +paint. This mattered the less as the only view from them was of +backyards, roofs, and chimneys. Living as I did, so much alone with my +father, I was at first oppressed by the number of petticoats in the +room--five girls of ages ranging from twelve to six, and a grown-up +lady in a spare brown stuff dress and spectacles. + +As we entered she came quickly forward and shook Nurse by the hand. + +"How do you do, Mrs. Bundle? Very glad to see you again, Mrs. Bundle." + +Nurse Bundle shook hands first, and curtsied afterwards. + +"I'm very well, thank you, ma'am, and hope you're the same. Master +Reginald Dacre, ma'am. This lady is Miss Blomfield, Master Reginald; +and I hope you'll behave properly, and give the lady no trouble." + +"I'm the governess, my dear," said Miss Blomfield, emphatically. (She +always "made a point" of announcing her dependent position to +strangers. "It is best to avoid any awkwardness," she was wont to +say; and I saw glances and smiles exchanged on this occasion between +the girls.) Miss Blomfield was very kind to me. Indeed she was kind to +every one. Her other peculiarities were conscientiousness and the +fidgets, and tendencies to fine crochet, calomel, and Calvinism, and +an abiding quality of harassing and being harassed, which I may here +say is, I am convinced, a common and most unfortunate atmosphere of +much of the process of education for girls of the upper and middle +classes in England. + +At this moment my aunt came in. + +"Good morning, Miss Blomfield." + +"Good morning, Mrs. Ascott," the governess hastily interposed. "I hope +you're well this morning." + +"Good morning, girls. Good morning, Nurse. How do you, Regie? All +right this morning? Bless me, there's that dog! What an extraordinary +affair it is! Mr. Ascott says he shall send it to the 'Gentleman's +Magazine.' Well, he can't be sent back now, so I suppose he'll have to +stop. And you must keep him out of mischief, Regie. Remember, he's not +to come into the drawing-room. Mrs. Bundle, will you see to that? Miss +Blomfield, will you kindly speak to Signor Rigi when he comes +to-morrow--" + +"Certainly, Mrs. Ascott," interposed the governess. + +"--about that piece of Maria's? She doesn't seem to get on with it a +bit." + +"No, Mrs. Ascott." + +"And I'm sure she's been practising it for a long time." + +"Yes, Mrs. Ascott." + +[Illustration: "Bless me, there's that dog!"] + +"Mr. Ascott says it makes his hand quite unsteady when he's shaving in +the morning, to hear her always break off at one place." + +The lines of harass on Miss Blomfield's countenance deepened visibly, +and her crochet-needle trembled in her hand, whilst a despondent +stolidity settled on Maria's face. + +"Certainly, Mrs. Ascott. I'm very glad you've spoken. Thank you for +mentioning it, Mrs. Ascott. It has distressed me very greatly, and +been a great trouble on my mind for some time. I spoke very seriously +to Maria last Sabbath on the subject" (symptoms of sniffling on poor +Maria's part). "I believe she wishes to do her duty, and I may say I +am anxious to do mine, in my position. Of course, Mrs. Ascott, I know +you've a right to expect an improvement, and I shall be most happy to +rise half an hour earlier, so as to give her a longer practice than +the other young ladies, and only consider it my duty as your +governess, Mrs. Ascott. I've felt it a great trouble, for I cannot +imagine how it is that Maria does not improve in her music as Jane +does, and I give them equal attention exactly; and what makes it more +singular still is that Maria is very good at her sums--I have no fault +to find whatever. But I regret to say it is not the case with Jane. I +told her on Wednesday that I did not wish to make any complaint; but I +feel it a duty, Mrs. Ascott, to let you know that her marks for +arithmetic are not what you have a right to expect." + +Here Miss Blomfield paused and wiped her eyes. Not that she was +weeping, but over and above her short-sightedness she was troubled +with a dimness of vision, which afflicted her more at some times than +others. As she was in the habit of endeavouring to counteract the +evils of a too constantly laborious and sedentary life, and of an +anxious and desponding temperament, by large doses of calomel, her +malady increased with painfully rapid strides. On this particular +morning she had been busy since five o'clock, and neither she nor the +girls (who rose at six) had had anything to eat, and they were all +somewhat faint for want of a breakfast which was cooling on the table. +Meanwhile a "humming in the head," to which _she_ was subject, +rendered Maria mercifully indifferent to the proposal to add an extra +half-hour to her distasteful labours; and Miss Blomfield corrugated +her eyebrows, and was conscientiously distressed and really puzzled +that Mother Nature should give different gifts to her children, when +their mother and teachers according to the flesh were so particular to +afford them an equality of "advantages." + +"Signor Rigi told me that Maria has not got so good an ear as Jane," +said Mrs. Ascott. "However, perhaps it will be well to let Maria +practise half an hour, and Jane do half an hour at her arithmetic on +Saturday afternoons." + +"Certainly, Mrs. Ascott." + +"And now," said my aunt, "I must introduce the girls to Reginald. This +is Maria, your eldest cousin, and nearly double your age, for she is +twelve. This is Jane, two years younger. This is Helen; she is nine, +and as tall as Jane, you see. This is Harriet, eight. And this is +Mary--Polly, as papa calls her--and she is nineteen months younger +than you, and a terrible tomboy already; so don't make her worse. This +is your cousin, girls, Reginald Dacre. You must amuse him among you, +and don't tease him, for he is not used to children." + +We "shook hands" all round, and I liked Polly's hand the best. It was +least froggy, cold, and spiritless. + +Then Mrs. Ascott departed, and Maria (overpowered by the humming) +"flopped" into her chair after a fashion that would certainly have +drawn a rebuke from Miss Blomfield if an access of eye-dimness had not +carried her to her own seat with little more grace. + +Uncle Ascott had a large nose, and my cousins were the image of him +and of each other. They were plain, lady-like, rather bouncing girls, +with aquiline noses, voices with a family _twang_ that was slightly +nasal, long feet terribly given to chilblains, and long fingers, with +which they all by turns practised the same exercises on the old piano +on successive mornings before breakfast. When we became more intimate, +I used to keep watch on the clock for the benefit of the one who was +practising. At half-past eight she was released, and shutting up the +book with a bang would scamper off, in summer to stretch herself, and +in winter to warm her hands and toes. I used to watch their fingers +with childish awe, wondering how such thin pieces of flesh and bone +hit such hard blows to the notes without cracking, and being also +somewhat puzzled by the run of good luck which seemed to direct their +weak and random-looking skips and jumps to the keys at which they were +aimed. I have seen them in tears over their "music," as it was called, +but they were generally persevering, and in winter (so I afterwards +discovered) invariably blue. + +It was not till we had finished breakfast that Miss Blomfield became +fairly conscious of the presence of Rubens, and when she did so her +alarm was very great. + +Considering what she suffered from her own proper and peculiar +worries, it seemed melancholy to have to add to her burdens the hourly +expectation of an outbreak of hydrophobia. + +In vain I testified to the sweetness of Rubens' temper. It is +undeniable that dogs do sometimes bite when you least expect it, and +that some bites end in hydrophobia; and it was long before Miss +Blomfield became reconciled to this new inmate of the school-room. + +The girls, on the contrary, were delighted with my dog; and it was on +this ground that we became friendly. My particular affection for Polly +was also probably due to the discovery that with an incomparably +stolid expression of countenance she was passing highly buttered +pieces of bread under the table to Rubens at breakfast. + +Polly was my chief companion. The other girls were good-natured, but +they were constantly occupied in the school-room, and hours that were +not nominally "lesson time" were given to preparing tasks for the next +day. By a great and very unusual concession, Polly's lessons were +shortened that she might bear me company. For the day or two before +this was decided on I had been very lonely, and Cousin Polly's holiday +brought much satisfaction both to me and to her; but it filled poor +Miss Blomfield's mind with disquietude, scruples, and misgivings. + +In the middle of the square where my uncle and aunt lived there was a +garden, with trees, and grass, and gravel-walks; and here Polly and I +played at hide and seek, and ran races, and chased each other and +Rubens. + +The garden was free to all dwellers in the square, and several other +children besides ourselves were wont to play there. One day as I was +strolling about, a little boy whom I had not seen before came down the +walk and crossed the grass. He seemed to be a year or two older than +myself, and caught my eye immediately by his remarkable beauty, and by +the depth of the mourning which he wore. His features were exquisitely +cut, and, in a child, one was not disposed to complain of their +effeminacy. His long fair hair was combed--in royal fashion--down his +back, a style at that time most unusual; his tightly-fitting jacket +and breeches were black, bordered with deep crape; not even a white +collar relieved his sombre attire, from which his fair face shone out +doubly fair by contrast. + +"Polly! Polly!" I cried, running to find my companion and guide, "who +is that beautiful boy in black?" + +"That's little Sir Lionel Damer," said Polly. "Good-morning, Leo!" and +she nodded as he passed. + +The boy just touched his hat, bent his head with a melancholy and yet +half-comical dignity, and walked on. + +"Who's he in mourning for?" I asked. + +"His father and mother," said Polly. "They were drowned together, and +now he is Sir Lionel." + +I looked after him with sudden and intense sympathy. His mother and +his father too! This indeed was sorrow deeper than mine. Surely his +mother, like mine, must have been fair and beautiful, so much beauty +and fairness had descended to him. + +"Has he any sisters, Polly?" I asked. + +Polly shook her head. "I don't think he has anybody," said she. + +Then he also was an only son! + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE LITTLE BARONET--DOLLS--CINDER PARCELS--THE OLD GENTLEMAN NEXT +DOOR--THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS + + +The next time I saw Sir Lionel was about two days afterwards, in the +afternoon, when the elder girls had gone for a drive in the carriage +with Aunt Maria, and the others, with myself, were playing in the +garden; Miss Blomfield being seated on a camp-stool reading a terrible +article on "Rabies" in the Medical Dictionary. + +Rubens and I had strolled away from the rest, and I was exercising him +in some of his tricks when the little baronet passed us with his +accustomed air of mingled melancholy, dignity, and self-consciousness. +I was a good deal fascinated by him. Beauty has a strong attraction +for children, and the depth of his weeds invested him with a +melancholy interest, which has also great charms for the young. Then, +to crown all, he mourned the loss of a young mother--and so did I. I +involuntarily showed off Rubens as he approached, and he lingered and +watched us. By a sort of impulse I took off my little hat, as I had +been taught to do to strangers. He lifted his with a dismal grace and +moved on. + +But as he walked about I could see that he kept looking to where +Rubens and I played upon the grass, and at last he came and sat down +near us. + +"Is that your dog?" he asked. + +"Yes he's my dog," I answered. + +"He seems very clever," said Sir Lionel. "Did you teach him all those +tricks yourself?" + +"Very nearly all," said I. "Rubens, shake hands with Sir Lionel." + +"How do you know my name?" he asked. + +"Polly told me," said I. + +"Do you know Polly?" Sir Lionel inquired. + +I stared, forgetting that of course he did not know who I was, and +answered-- + +"She's my cousin." + +"What's your name?" he asked. + +I told him. + +"Do you like Polly?" he continued. + +"Very much," I said, warmly. + +It was with a ludicrous imitation of some grown-up person's manner +that he added, in perfect gravity-- + +"I hope you are not in love with her?" + +"Oh, dear no!" I cried, hastily, for I had had enough of that joke +with Miss Eliza Burton. + +"Then that is all right," said the little baronet; "let us be +friends." And friends we became. "Call me Leo, and I'll call you +Reginald," said the little gentleman; and so it was. + +I think it is not doing myself more than justice if I say that to +this, my first friendship, I was faithful and devoted. Leo, for his +part, was always affectionate, and he had an admiration for Rubens +which went a long way with Rubens' master. But he was a little spoiled +and capricious, and, like many people of rather small capacities +(whether young or old), he was often unintentionally inconsiderate. In +those days my affection waited willingly upon his; but I know now that +in a quiet amiable way he was selfish. I was blessed myself with an +easy temper, and at that time it had ample opportunities of +accommodating itself to the whims of my friend Leo and my cousin +Polly. Not that Polly was like Sir Lionel in any way whatever. But she +was quick-tempered and resolute. She was much more clever for her age +than I was for mine. She was very decided and rapid in her views and +proceedings, very generous and affectionate also, and not at all +selfish. But her qualities and those of Leo came to the same thing as +far as I was concerned. I invariably yielded to them both. + +Between themselves, I may say, they squabbled systematically, and were +never either friends or enemies for two days together. + +Polly and I never quarrelled. I did her behests manfully, as a general +rule; and if her sway became intolerable, I complained and bewailed, +on which she relented, being as easily moved to pity as to wrath. + +As the weather grew more chill, we seldom went out except in the +morning. In the afternoon Polly and I (sometimes accompanied by Leo) +played in the nursery at the top of the house. + +Now and then the other girls would come up, and "play at dolls" with +Polly. On these occasions the treatment I experienced was certainly +hard. They were soon absorbed in dressing and undressing, sham meals, +sham lessons, and all the domestic romance of doll-life, in which, +according to my poor abilities, I should have been most happy to have +taken a part. But, on the unwarrantable assumption that "boys could +not play at dolls," the only part assigned me in the puppet comedy was +to take the dolls' dirty clothes to and from an imaginary wash in a +miniature wheelbarrow. I did for some time assume the character of +dolls' medical man with considerable success; but having vaccinated +the kid arm of one of my patients too deeply on a certain occasion +with a big pin, she suffered so severely from loss of bran that I was +voted a practitioner of the old school, and dismissed. I need hardly +say that this harsh decision proved the ruin of my professional +prospects, and I was sent back to my wheelbarrow. It was when we were +tired of our ordinary amusements, during a week of wet weather, that +Polly and I devised a new piece of fun to enliven the monotony of the +hours when we were shut up in that town nursery at the top of the +house. + +Outside the nursery-windows were iron bars--a sensible precaution of +Aunt Maria against accidents to "the little ones." One day when the +window was slightly open, and Polly and I were hanging on the +window-ledge, in attitudes that fully justified the precautionary +measure of a grating, a bit of paper which was rolled up in Polly's +hand escaped from her grasp, and floated down into the street. In a +moment Polly and I were standing on the window-ledge, peering down--to +the best of our ability--into the square and into the area depths +below. Like a snow-flake in summer, we saw our paper-twist lying on +the pavement; but our delight rose to ecstasy when a portly passer-by +stooped and picked up the document and carefully examined it. + +Out of this incident arose a systematic amusement, which, in advance +of our age, we called "the parcel post." + +By shoving aside the fire-guard in the absence of our nurses, we +obtained some cinders, with which we repaired to our post at the +window, thus illustrating that natural proclivity of children to +places of danger which is the bane of parents and guardians. Here we +fastened up little fragments of cinder in pieces of writing-paper, and +having secured them tidily with string, we dropped these parcels +through the iron bars as into a post-office. It was a breathless +moment when they fell through space like shooting stars. It was a +triumph if they cleared the area. But the aim and the end of our +labours was to see one of our missives attract the notice of a +passer-by, then excite his curiosity, and finally--if he opened +it--rouse his unspeakable disgust and disappointment. + +Like other tricksters, our game lasted long because of the ever-green +credulity of our "public." In the ever-fresh stream of human life +which daily flowed beneath our windows, there were sure to be one or +more pedestrians who, with varying expressions of conscientious +responsibility, unprincipled appropriation, or mere curiosity, would +open our parcels, either to ascertain what trinket should be restored +to its owner, or to keep what was to be got, or to see what there was +to be seen. + +One day when we dropped one of our parcels at the feet of a lady who +was going by, she nonplussed us very effectually by ringing the bell +and handing in to the footman "something which had been accidentally +dropped from one of the upper windows." Fortunately for us the parcel +did not reach Aunt Maria; Polly intercepted it. + +As the passers-by never wearied of our parcels, I do not know when we +should have got tired of our share of the fun, but for an occurrence +which brought the amusement suddenly to an end. One afternoon we had +made up the neatest of little white-paper parcels, worthy of having +come from a jeweller's, and I clambered on to the window-seat that I +might drop it successfully (and quite clear of the area) into the +street. Just as I dropped it, there passed an elderly gentleman very +precisely dressed, with a gold-headed cane, and a very well-brushed +hat. Pop! I let the cinder parcel fall on to his beaver, from which it +rebounded to his feet. The old gentleman looked quickly up, our eyes +met, and I felt convinced that he saw that I had thrown it. I called +Polly, and as she reached my side the old gentleman untied and +examined the parcel. When he came to the cinder, he looked up once +more, and Polly jumped from the window with a prolonged "Oh!" + +"What's the matter?" I asked. + +"Oh, dear!" cried Polly; "it's the old gentleman next door!" + +For several days we lived in unenviable suspense. Every morning did we +expect to be summoned from the school-room to be scolded by Aunt +Maria. Every afternoon we dreaded the arrival of "the old gentleman +next door" to make his formal complaint, and, whenever the front-door +bell rang, Polly and I literally "shook in our shoes." + +But several days passed, and we heard nothing of it. We had given up +the practice in our fright, but had some thoughts of beginning again, +as no harm had come to us. + +One evening (by an odd coincidence, my birthday was on the morrow) as +Polly and I were putting away our playthings preparatory to being +dressed to go down to dessert, a large brown-paper parcel was brought +into the nursery addressed jointly to me and my cousin. + +"It's a birthday present for you, Regie!" Polly cried. + +"But there's your name on it, Polly," said I. + +"It must be a mistake," said Polly. But she looked very much pleased, +nevertheless; and so, I have no doubt, did I. We cut the string, we +tore off the first thick covering. The present, whatever it might be, +was securely wrapped a second time in finer brown paper and carefully +tied. + +"It's _very_ carefully done up," said I, cutting the second string. + +"It must be something nice," said Polly, decisively; "that's why it's +taken such care of." + +If Polly's reasoning were just, it must have been something very nice +indeed, for under the second wrapper was a third, and under the third +was a fourth, and under the fourth was a fifth, and under the fifth +was a sixth, and under the sixth was a seventh. We were just on the +point of giving it up in despair when we came to a box. With some +difficulty we got the lid open, and took out one or two folds of +paper. Then there was a lot of soft shavings, such as brittle toys and +gimcracks are often packed in, and among the shavings was--a small +neatly-folded white-paper parcel. _And inside the parcel was a +cinder._ + +We certainly looked very foolish as we stood before our present. I do +not think any of the people we had taken in had looked so thoroughly +and completely so. We were both on the eve of crying, and both ended +by laughing. Then Polly--in those trenchant tones which recalled Aunt +Maria forcibly to one's mind--said, + +"Well! we quite deserve it." + +The "parcel-post" was discontinued. + +We had no doubt as to who had played us this trick. It was the old +gentleman next door. He was a wealthy, benevolent, and rather +eccentric old bachelor. It was his custom to take an early walk for +the good of his health in the garden of the square, and he sometimes +took an evening stroll in the same place for pleasure. Somehow or +other he had made a speaking acquaintance with Miss Blomfield, and we +afterwards discovered that he had made all needful inquiries as to the +names, etc., of Polly and myself from her--she, however, being quite +innocent as to the drift of his questions. + +I should certainly not have selected the old gentleman's hat to drop +our best parcel on to, if I had known who he was. I was not likely to +forget his face now. + +I soon got to know all our neighbours by sight. On one side of us was +the old gentleman, whose name was Bartram; on the other side lived Sir +Lionel Damer. He was staying with his guardian, an old Colonel +Sinclair; and when my father came up to town he and this Colonel +Sinclair discovered that they were old school-fellows, which Leo and I +looked upon as a good omen for our friendship. + +Polly and I and Nurse Bundle became as learned in gossip as any one +else who lives in a town, and is constantly looking out of the window. +We knew the (bird's-eye) appearance of everybody on our side of the +square, their servants, their cats and dogs, their carriages, and even +their tradesmen. If one of the neighbours changed his milkman, or +there came so much as a new muffin man to the square, we were all +agog. One day I saw Polly upon our perch, struggling to get her face +close to the glass, and much hindered by the size of her nose. I felt +sure that there was _something_ down below--at least a new butcher's +boy. So I was not surprised when she called me to "come and look." + +"Who is it?" said Polly. + +"I don't know," said I. + +And then we both stared on, as if by downright hard looking we could +discover the name of the gentleman who had just come down the steps +from Colonel Sinclair's house. He was a short slight man, young, and +with sandy hair. Neither of us had seen him before. Having the good +fortune to see him return to Colonel Sinclair's house, about two hours +later, I hurried with the news to Polly; and we resolved to get to see +Leo as soon as possible, and satisfy our curiosity respecting the +stranger. So in the afternoon we sent a message to invite him to come +and play with us in the square, but we received the answer that "Sir +Lionel was engaged." + +Later on he came into the square, and the stranger with him. Polly and +I and Rubens were together on a seat; but when Leo saw us he gave a +scanty nod and went off in the opposite direction, leaning on the arm +of the stranger and apparently absorbed in talking to him. I was +rather hurt by his neglect of us. But Polly said positively, + +"That is Leo's way. He likes new friends. But when he treats me like +that, I do not speak to him for a week afterwards." + +That evening a cab carried off the stranger, and next day Leo came to +us in the square, all smiles and friendliness. + +"I've been so wanting to see you!" he cried, in the most devoted +tones. But Polly only took up her doll, and with her impressive nose +in the air, walked off to the house. + +I could not quarrel with Leo myself, and we were soon as friendly as +ever. + +"I want to tell you some news, Regie," he said. "Colonel Sinclair has +decided that I am to have a tutor." + +"Are you glad?" I asked. + +"Yes, very," said Sir Lionel. "You see I like him very much--I mean +the tutor. He was here yesterday. You saw him with me. He is going to +be a clergyman. He has been at Cambridge, and he plays the flute." + +For a long time Leo enlarged to me upon the merits of his tutor that +was to be; and when I went back to Polly the news I had to impart +served to atone for my not having joined her in snubbing the +capricious Sir Lionel. As for him, he was very restless under Polly's +displeasure, and finally apologized, on which Polly gave him a sound +scolding, which, to my surprise, he took in the utmost good part, and +we were all once more the best possible friends. + +That visit to London was an era in my life. It certainly was most +enjoyable, and it did me a world of good, body and mind. When my +father came up, we enjoyed it still more. He coaxed holidays for the +girls even out of Aunt Maria, and took us (Leo and all) to places of +amusement. With him we went to the Zoological Gardens. The monkeys +attracted me indescribably, and I seriously proposed to my father to +adopt one or two of them as brothers for me. I felt convinced that if +they were properly dressed and taught they would be quite +companionable, and I said so, to my father's great amusement, and to +the scandal of Nurse Bundle, who was with us. + +"I fear you would never teach them to talk, Regie," said my father; +"and a friend who could neither speak to you nor understand you when +you spoke to him would be a very poor companion, even if he could +dance on the top of a barrel-organ and crack hard nuts." + +"But, papa, babies can't talk at first," said I; "they have to be +taught." + +Now by good luck for my argument there stood near us a country woman +with a child in her arms to whom she was holding out a biscuit, +repeating as she did so, "Ta!" in that expectant tone which is +supposed to encourage childish efforts to pronounce the abbreviated +form of thanks. + +"Now look, papa!" I cried, "that's the way I should teach a monkey. If +I were to hold out a bit of cake to him, and say, 'Ta,'"--(and as I +spoke I did so to a highly intelligent little gentleman who sat close +to the bars of the cage with his eyes on my face, as if he were well +aware that a question of deep importance to himself was being +discussed)-- + +"He would probably snatch it out of your hand without further +ceremony," said my father. And, dashing his skinny fingers through the +bars, this was, I regret to say, precisely what the little gentleman +did. I was quite taken aback; but as we turned round, to my infinite +delight, the undutiful baby snatched the biscuit from its mother's +hand after a fashion so remarkably similar that we all burst out +laughing, and I shouted in triumph, + +"Now, papa! children do it too." + +"Well, Regie," he answered, "I think you have made out a good case. +But the question which now remains is, whether Mrs. Bundle will have +your young friends in the nursery." + +But Mrs. Bundle's horror at my remarks was too great to admit of her +even entering into the joke. + +The monkeys were somewhat driven from my mind by the wit and wisdom of +the elephant, and the condescension displayed by so large an animal +in accepting the light refreshment of penny buns. After he had had +several, Leo began to tease him, holding out a bun and snatching it +away again. As he was holding it out for the fourth or fifth time, the +elephant extended his trunk as usual, but instead of directing it +towards the bun, he deliberately snatched the black velvet cap from +Leo's head and swallowed it with a grunt of displeasure. Leo was first +frightened, and then a good deal annoyed by the universal roar of +laughter which his misfortune occasioned. But he was a good-tempered +boy, and soon joined in the laugh himself. Then, as we could not buy +him a new cap in the Gardens, he was obliged to walk about for the +rest of the time bare-headed; and many were the people who turned +round to look a second time after the beautiful boy with the long fair +hair--a fact of which Master Lionel was not quite unconscious, I +think. + +My aunt kindly pressed us to remain with her over Christmas. I longed +to see the pantomime, having heard much from my cousins and from Leo +of its delights--and of the harlequin, columbine, and clown. But my +father wanted to be at home again, and he took me and Rubens and Nurse +Bundle with him at the end of November. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +POLLY AND I RESOLVE TO BE "VERY RELIGIOUS"--DR. PEPJOHN--THE +ALMS-BOX--THE BLIND BEGGAR + + +I must not forget to speak of an incident which had a considerable +influence on my character at this time. The church which my uncle and +his family "attended," as it was called, was one of those most dreary +places of worship too common at that time, in London and elsewhere. It +was ugly outside, but the outside ugliness was as nothing compared +with the ugliness within. The windows were long and bluntly rounded at +the top, and the sunlight was modified by scanty calico blinds, which, +being yellow with age and smoke, _toned_ the light in rather an +agreeable manner. Mouldings of a pattern one sees about common +fireplaces ran everywhere with praiseworthy impartiality. But the +great principle of the ornamental work throughout was a principle only +too prevalent at the date when this particular church was last "done +up." It was imitations of things not really there, and which would +have been quite out of place if they had been there. For instance, +pillars and looped-up curtains painted on flat walls, with pretentious +shadows, having no reference to the real direction of the light. At +the east end some Hebrew letters, executed as journeymen painters +usually do execute them, had a less cheerful look than the +highly-coloured lion and unicorn on the gallery in front. The clerk's +box, the reading-desk, and the pulpit, piled one above another, had a +symmetrical effect, to which the umbrella-shaped sounding-board above +gave a distant resemblance to a Chinese pagoda. The only things which +gave warmth or colour to the interior as a whole were the cushions and +pew curtains. There were plenty of them, and they were mostly red. +These same curtains added to the sense of isolation, which was already +sufficiently attained by the height of the pew walls and their doors +and bolts. I think it was this--and the fact that, as the congregation +took no outward part in the prayers except that of listening to them, +Polly and I had nothing to do--and we could not even hear the old +gentleman who usually "read prayers"--which led us into the very +reprehensible habit of "playing at houses" in Uncle Ascott's +gorgeously furnished pew. Not that we left our too tightly stuffed +seats for one moment, but as we sat or stood, unable to see anything +beyond the bombazine curtains (which, intervening between us and the +distant parson, made our hearing what he said next to impossible), we +amused ourselves by mentally "pretending" a good deal of domestic +drama, in which the pew represented a house; and we related our +respective "plays" to each other afterwards when we went home. + +Wrong as it was, we did not intend to be irreverent, though I had the +grace to feel slightly shocked when after a cheerfully lighted evening +service, at which the claims of a missionary society had been +enforced, Polly confided to me, with some triumph in her tone, "I +pretended a theatre, and when the man was going round with the box +upstairs, I pretended it was oranges in the gallery." + +I had more than once felt uneasy at our proceedings, and I now told +Polly that I thought it was not right, and that we ought to "try to +attend." I rather expected her to resent my advice, but she said that +she had "sometimes thought it was wrong" herself; and we resolved to +behave better for the future, and indeed really did give up our +unseasonable game. + +Few religious experiences fill one with more shame and self-reproach +than the large results from very small efforts in the right direction. +Polly and I prospered in our efforts to "attend." I may say for myself +that, child as I was, I began to find a satisfaction and pleasure in +going to church, though the place was hideous, the ritual dreary, and +the minister mumbling. When by chance there was a nice hymn, such as, +"Glory to Thee," or "O GOD, our help in ages past," we were quite +happy. We also tried manfully to "attend" to the sermons, which, +considering the length and abstruseness of them, was, I think, +creditable to us. I fear we felt it to be so, and that about this time +we began to be proud of the texts we knew, and of our punctilious +propriety in the family pew, and of the resolve which we had taken in +accordance with my proposal to Polly-- + +"Let us be very religious." + +One Saturday Miss Blomfield was a good deal excited about a certain +clergyman who was to preach in our church next Sunday, and as the +services were now a matter of interest to us, Polly and I were excited +too. I had been troubled with toothache all the week, but this was now +better, and I was quite able to go to church with the rest of the +family. + +The general drift of the sermon, even its text, have long since faded +from my mind; but I do remember that it contained so highly coloured a +peroration on the Day of Judgment and the terrors of Hell, that my +horror and distress knew no bounds; and when the sermon was ended, and +we began to sing, "From lowest depths of woe," I burst into a passion +of weeping. The remarkable part of the incident was that, the rest of +the party having sat with their noses in the air quite undistressed by +the terrible eloquence of the preacher, Aunt Maria never for a moment +guessed at the real cause of my tears. But as soon as we were all in +the carriage (it was a rainy evening, and we had driven to church), +she said-- + +"That poor child will never have a minute's peace while that tooth's +in his head. Thomas! Drive to Dr. Pepjohn's." + +Polly did say, "Is it very bad, Regie?" But Aunt Maria answered for +me--"Can't you see it's bad, child? Leave him alone." + +I was ashamed to confess the real cause of my outburst, and suffered +for my disingenuousness in Dr. Pepjohn's consulting-room. + +"Show Dr. Pepjohn which it is, Regie," said my aunt; and, with tears +that had now become simply hysterical, I pointed to the tooth that had +ached. + +"Just allow me to touch it," said Dr. Pepjohn, inserting his fat +finger and thumb into my mouth. "I won't hurt you, my little man," he +added, with the affable mendaciousness of his craft. Fortunately for +me it was rather loose, and a couple of hard wrenches from the +doctor's expert fingers brought it out. + +"You think me very cruel, now, don't you, my little man?" said the +jocose gentleman, as we were taking leave. + +"I don't think you're cruel," I answered, candidly; "but I think you +tell fibs, for it _did_ hurt." + +The doctor laughed long and loudly, and said I was quite an original, +which puzzled me extremely. Then he gave me sixpence, with which I was +much pleased, and we parted good friends. + +My father was with us on the following Sunday, and he did not go to +the church Aunt Maria went to. I went to the one to which he went. +This church was very well built and appropriately decorated. The music +was good, the responses of the congregation hearty, and the service +altogether was much better adapted to awaken and sustain the interest +of a child than those I had hitherto been to in London. + +"You know we _couldn't_ play houses in the church where Papa goes," I +told Polly on my return, and I was very anxious that she should go +with us to the evening service. She did go, but I am bound to confess +that she decided on a loyal preference for the service to which she +had been accustomed, and, like sensible people, we agreed to differ in +our tastes. + +"There's no clerk at your church, you know," said Polly, to whom a gap +in the threefold ministry of clerk, reader, and preacher, symbolized +by the "three-decker" pulpit, was ill atoned for by the chanting of +the choir. + +In quite a different way, I was as much impressed by the sermons at +the new church as I had been by that which cost me a tooth. + +One sermon especially upon the duties of visiting the sick and +imprisoned, feeding the hungry, and clothing the naked, made an +impression on me that years did not efface. I made the most earnest +resolutions to be active in deeds of kindness "when I was a man," +and, not being troubled by considerations of political economy, I +began my charitable career by dividing what pocket money I had in hand +amongst the street-sweepers and mendicants nearest to our square. + +I soon converted Polly to my way of thinking; and we put up a +money-box in the nursery, in imitation of the alms-box in church. I am +ashamed to confess that I was guilty of the meanness of changing a +sixpence which I had dedicated to our "charity-box" into twelve +half-pence, that I might have the satisfaction of making a dozen +distinct contributions to the fund. + +But, despite all its follies, vanities, and imperfections (and what +human efforts for good are not stained with folly, vanity, and +imperfection?), our benevolence was not without sincerity or +self-denial, and brought its own invariable reward of increased +willingness to do more; according to the deep wisdom of the poet-- + + "In doing is this knowledge won: + To see what yet remains undone." + +We really did forego many a toy and treat to add to our charitable +store; and I began then a habit of taxing what money I possessed, by +taking off a fixed proportion for "charity," which I have never +discontinued, and to the advantages of which I can most heartily +testify. When a self-indulgent civilization goads all classes to live +beyond their incomes, and tempts them not to include the duty of +almsgiving in the expenditure of those incomes, it is well to remove a +due proportion of what one has beyond the reach of the ever-growing +monster of extravagance; and, being decided upon in an unbiased and +calm moment, it is the less likely to be too much for one's domestic +claims, or too little for one's religious duty. It frees one for ever +from that grudging and often comical spasm of meanness which attacks +so many even wealthy people when they are asked to give, because, +among all the large "expenses" to which their goods are willingly made +liable, the expense of giving alms of those goods has never been +fairly counted as an item not less needful, not less imperative, not +less to be felt as a deduction from the remainder, not less life-long +and daily, than the expenses of rent, and dress, and dinner-parties. + +We had, as I say, no knowledge of political economy, and it must be +confessed that the objects of our charity were on more than one +occasion most unworthy. + +"Oh, Regie, dear," Polly cried one day, rushing up to me as she +returned from a walk (I had a cold, and was in the nursery), "there is +such a poor, poor man at the corner of ---- Street. I do think we ought +to give him all that's left in the box. He's quite blind, and he reads +out of a book with such queer letters. It's one of the Gospels, he +says; so he must be very good, for he reads it all day long. And he +can't have any home, for he sits in the street. And he's got a ticket +on his back to say 'Blind,' and 'Taught at the Blind School.' And as I +passed he was reading quite loud. And I heard him say, 'Now Barabbas +was a robber.' Oh, he _is_ such a poor man! And you know, Regie, he +_must_ be good, for _we_ don't sit reading our Bibles all day long." + +I at once gave my consent to the box being emptied in favour of this +very poor and very pious man; and at the first opportunity Polly took +the money to her _protege_. + +"He was so much pleased!" she reported on her return. "He seemed quite +surprised to get so much. And he said, 'GOD bless you, miss!' I wish +you'd been there, Regie. I said, 'It's not all from me.' He _was_ so +much pleased!" + +"How did he know you were a _miss_, I wonder?" said I. + +"I suppose it was my voice," said Polly, after a pause. + +As soon as I could go out, I went to see the blind man. As I drew +near, he was--as Polly told me--reading aloud. The regularity and +rapidity with which his fingers ran over line after line, as if he +were rubbing out something on a slate, were most striking; and as I +stood beside him I distinctly heard him read the verse, "Now Barabbas +was a robber." It was a startling coincidence to find him still +reading the words which Polly overheard, especially as they were not +in any way remarkably adapted for the subject of a prolonged +meditation. + +Much living alone with grown-up people had, I think, helped towards my +acquiring a habit I had of "brown studying," turning things over, +brewing them, so to speak, in my mind. I stood pondering the +peculiarities of the object of our charity for some moments, during +which he was elaborately occupied in turning over a leaf of his book. +Presently I said-- + +"What makes you say it out loud when you read?" + +He turned his head towards me, blinking and rolling his eyes, and +replied in impressive tones-- + +"It's the pleasure I takes in it, sir." + +Now as he blinked I watched his eyes with mingled terror, pity, and +curiosity. At this moment a stout and charitable-looking old +gentleman was passing, between whom and my blind friend I was +standing. And as he passed he threw the blind man some coppers. But in +the moment before he did so, and when there seemed a possibility of +his passing without what I suspect was a customary dole, such a sharp +expression came into the scarcely visible pupils of the blind man's +half-shut eyes that (never suspecting that his blindness was feigned, +but for the moment convinced that he had seen the old gentleman) I +exclaimed, without thinking of the absurdity of my inquiry-- + +"Was it at the Blind School you learnt to see so well with your blind +eyes?" + +The "very poor man" gave me a most unpleasant glance out of his +"sightless orbs," and taking up his stool, and muttering something +about its being time to go home, he departed. + +Some time afterwards I learnt what led me to believe that he had the +best possible reason for being able to "see so well with his blind +eyes." He was not blind at all. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +VISITING THE SICK + + +I had been quite prepared to find Polly a willing convert to my +charitable schemes, but I had not expected to find in Cousin Helen so +strong an ally as she proved. But our ideas were no novelty to her, as +we soon discovered. In truth, at nine years old, she was a bit of an +enthusiast. She read with avidity religious biographies furnished by +Miss Blomfield. She was delicate in health, but reticent and resolute +in character. She was ready for any amount of self-sacrifice. She +contributed liberally to our box; and I fancy that she and Polly +continued it after I had gone back to Dacrefield. + +My new ideas were not laid aside on my return home. To the best of my +ability I had given Nurse Bundle an epitome of the sermon on +alms--deeds which had so taken my fancy, and I have reason to believe +that she was very proud of my precocious benevolence. Whilst the +subject was under discussion betwixt us, she related many anecdotes of +the good deeds of the "young gentlemen and ladies" in a certain +clergyman's family where she had lived as nursemaid in her younger +days; and my imagination was fired by dreams of soup-cans, coal-clubs, +linsey petticoats comforting the rheumatic limbs of aged women, +opportune blankets in winter, Sunday-school classes, etc., etc. + +"My dear!" said Nurse Bundle, almost with tears in her eyes, "you're +for all the world your dear mamma over again. Keep them notions, my +dear, when you're a grown gentleman, and there'll be a blessing on all +you do. For in all reason it's you that'll have to look to your pa's +property and tenants some time." + +My father, though not himself an adept in the details of what is +commonly called "parish work," was both liberal and kind-hearted. He +liked my knowing the names of his tenants, and taking an interest in +their families. He was well pleased to respond by substantial help +when Nurse Bundle and I pleaded for this sick woman or that unshod +child, as my mother had pleaded in old days. As for Nurse Bundle, she +had a code of virtues for "young ladies and gentlemen," as such, and +charity to the poor was among them. Though I confess that I think she +regarded it more in the light of a grace adorning a certain station, +than as a duty incumbent upon all men. + +So I came to know most of the villagers; and being a quaint child, +with a lively and amusing curiosity, which some little refinement and +good-breeding stayed from degenerating into impertinence, I was, I +believe, very popular. + +One afternoon, during the spring that followed our return from London, +I had strolled out with Rubens, and was bowling my hoop towards one of +the lodges when a poor woman passed by on the drive (which was a +public road through the park), her apron to her face, weeping +bitterly. I stopped her, and asked what was the matter, and finally +made out that she had been to some sale at a farmhouse near, where a +certain large blanket had "gone for" five shillings. That she had +scraped five shillings together, and had intended to bid for it, but +had (with eminent stupidity) managed just to be out of the way when +the blanket was sold; and that it had gone for the very sum she could +have afforded, to another woman who would only part with it for six +and sixpence--eighteenpence more than the price she had paid for it. + +The poor woman wept, and said she had had hard work to "raise" the +five shillings, and could not possibly find one and sixpence more. And +yet she did want the blanket badly, for she had a boy sick in bed, and +his throat was so bad--he suffered a deal from the cold, and there +wasn't a decent "rag of a blanket" in her house. I did not quite +follow her long story, but I gathered that one and sixpence would put +an end to her troubles, and at once offered to fetch her the money. + +"Where do you live?" I asked. + +"The white cottage just beyond the gate, love," she answered. + +"I will bring you the money," said I. For to say the truth, I was +rather pompous and important about my charitable deeds, and did not +dislike playing the part of Sir Bountiful in the cottages. In this +case, too, it was a kindness not to take the woman back to the hall, +for she had left the sick child alone; and when I arrived at the +cottage with the money he complained bitterly at the idea of her +leaving him again to get the blanket. + +"Let me go a minute, love, and I'll fetch Mrs. Taylor to sit with thee +till I get the blanket." + +"I don't want a blanket," fretted the child; "I be too hot as 'tis. I +don't want to be 'lone." + +"If you'll only be a minute, I'll stop with him," said I; and there +was some kindness in the offer, for I was really afraid of the boy +with his heavy angry eyes and fever petulance. The woman gladly +accepted it, and hurried off, despite the child's fretful tears, and +his refusing to see in "the young gentleman's" condescension the +honour which his mother pointed out. No doubt she only meant to be "a +minute," and Mrs. Taylor's dwelling was, to my knowledge, near; but I +suppose she had to tell, and her friends to hear, the whole history of +the sale, her disappointment and subsequent relief, as a preliminary +measure. After which it is probable that Mrs. Taylor had to look at +her pie in the oven, or attend to some similar and pressing domestic +duty before she could leave her house; and so it was nearly half an +hour before they came to my relief. And all this time the sick boy +tossed and moaned, and cried for water. I gave him some from a mug on +the table, not so much from any precocious gift for sick nursing (for +I was simply "frightened out of my wits"), but because the imperative +tone of his demand forced me involuntarily into doing what he wanted. +He grumbled, when between us we spilt the water on his clothes, and +then, soothed for a few seconds, he lay down, till the fever, like a +possessing demon, tossed him about once more, and his throat became as +parched as ever, and again he moaned for "a drink," and we repeated +the process. This time the mug was emptied, and when he called a third +time I could only say, "The mug's empty." + +"There's a pot behind the door," he muttered, impatiently; "look +sharp!" + +Now food, and drink, and all other necessaries of life came to me +without effort or seeking, and I was as little accustomed as any other +rich man's son to forage for supplies; but on this occasion +circumstances forced out of me a helpfulness which necessity early +teaches to the poor. I became dimly cognizant of the fact that water +does not spring spontaneously in carafes, nor take a delicate colour +and flavour in toast-and-water jugs of itself. I found the water-pot, +replenished the mug, and went back to my patient. By the time his +mother returned I had become quite clever in checking the spasmodic +clutches which spilt the cold water into his neck. + +From what Mrs. Taylor said to her friend, it was evident that she +disapproved in some way of my presence, and the boy's mother replied +to her whispered remonstrances, "I was _that_ put out, I never +thought;" which I have no doubt was strictly true. + +As I afterwards learnt, she got the blanket, and never ceased to laud +my generosity. + +I was rather proud of it myself, and it was not without complacency +that I recounted to Nurse Bundle my first essay in "visiting the +sick." + +But complacency was the last feeling my narrative awoke in Mrs. +Bundle. She was alarmed out of all presence of mind; and her +indignation with the woman who had requited my kindness by allowing me +to go into a house infected with fever knew no bounds. She had no pity +to spare for her when the news reached us that the child was dead. + +Nothing further came of it for some time. Days passed, and it was +almost forgotten, only I became decidedly ill-tempered. A captious +irritability possessed me, alternating with fits of unaccountable +fatigue. At that time I was always either tired or cross, and +sometimes both. I must have made Nurse Bundle very uncomfortable. I +was so little happy, for my own share, that when after a day's +headache I was put to bed as an invalid, it was a delicious relief to +be acknowledged to be ill, to throw off clothes and occupation, and +shut my eyes and be nursed. + +This happiness lasted for about half an hour. Then I began to shiver, +and, through no lack of blankets my teeth were soon chattering and the +bed shaking under me, as it had been with the village boy. But when +this was succeeded by burning heat, and intolerable, consuming +restlessness, I would have been glad to shiver again. And then my mind +wandered with a restlessness more intolerable than the tossing of my +body; and all boundaries of time, and place, and person became +confused and indefinitely extended, and hot hours were like ages, and +I thought I was that other boy, and that myself would not wait upon +him; and the only sensible words I spoke were cries for drink; and so +the fever got me fairly into its clutches. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +"PEACE BE TO THIS HOUSE" + + +I can appreciate now what my father and Nurse Bundle must have +suffered during my dangerous illness. It was not a common tie that +bound my father's affections to my life. Not only was I his son, I was +his only son. Moreover, I was the only living child of the beloved +wife of his youth--all that remained to him of my fair mother. Then I +was the heir to his property, the hope of his family, and, without +undue egotism, I may say, from what I have been told, that I was a +quaint, original, and (thanks to Mrs. Bundle) not ill-behaved child, +and that, for a while at least, I should have been much missed in the +daily life of the household. + +Mrs. Cadman told me, long afterwards, exactly how many days and nights +Nurse Bundle passed in my sick chamber, "and never had her clothes +off;" and if the wearing of clothes had been one of the sharpest +torments of the Inquisition, Mrs. Cadman could not have spoken in a +hollower tone, or thrown more gloom round the announcement. + +That, humanly speaking, my good and loving nurse saved my life, I must +ever remember with deep gratitude. There are stages of fever, when, as +they say, "a nurse is everything;" and a very little laziness, +selfishness, or inattention on Nurse Bundle's part would probably +have been my death-warrant. But night and day she never relaxed her +vigilance for one instant of the crisis of my malady. She took nothing +for granted, would trust no one else, but herself saw every order of +the doctor carried out, and, at a certain stage, fed me every ten +minutes, against my will, coaxing me to obedience, and never losing +heart or temper for one instant. And this although my petulance and +not infrequent assurances that I wished and preferred to die--"I was +so tired"--within the sick room, and my father's despair and bitter +groan that he would sacrifice every earthly possession to keep me +alive, outside it, would have caused many people to lose their heads. +In such an hour many a foolish, gossiping, half-educated woman, by +absolute faithfulness to the small details of her trust, by the +complete laying aside of personal needs and personal feelings, rises +to the sublimity of duty, and, ministering to the wants of another +with an unselfish vigilance almost perfect, earns that meed of praise +from men, which from time to time persists, in grateful hyperbole, to +liken her sex to the angels. + +My poor father, whose irrepressible distress led to his being +forbidden to enter my room, powerless to help, and therefore without +alleviation for his anxiety, simply hung upon Nurse Bundle's orders +and reports, and relied utterly on her. Fortunately for his own +health, she gained sufficient influence to insist, almost as +peremptorily as in my case, upon his taking food. Often afterwards did +she describe how he and Rubens sat outside the door they were not +allowed to enter; and she used to declare that when she came out, +Rubens, as well as my father, turned an anxious and expectant +countenance towards her, and that both alike seemed to await and to +understand her report of my condition. + +Only once did Nurse Bundle's self-possession threaten to fail her. It +was on my repeated and urgent request to "have the clergyman to pray +with me." + +Mrs. Bundle, like most uneducated people, rather regarded the +visitation of the sick by the parish clergyman as a sort of extreme +unction or last sacrament. And to send for the parson seemed to her +tantamount to dismissing the doctor and ringing the passing bell. My +father was equally averse from the idea on other grounds. Moreover, +our old rector had gone, and the lately-appointed one was a stranger, +and rather an eccentric stranger, by all accounts. + +For my own part, I had a strong interest in the new rector. His +Christian name was the same as my own, which I felt to constitute a +sort of connection; and the tales I had heard in the village of his +peculiarities had woven a sort of ecclesiastical romance about him in +my mind. He had come from some out-of-the-way parish in the west of +England, where his people, being thoroughly used to his ways, took +them as a matter of course. It was his scrupulous custom to conform as +minutely as possible to the canons of the Church, as well as to the +rubrics of the Prayer Book, and this to the point of wearing shoes +instead of boots. He was a learned man, a naturalist, and an +antiquarian. His appearance was remarkable, his hair being prematurely +white, and yet thick, his eyes grey and expressive, with thick dark +eyebrows, which actually met above them. For the rest, he was tall, +thin, and dressed in obedience to the canons. I had been much +interested in all that I had heard of him, and since my illness I had +often thought of the unqualified note of praise I had heard sounded in +his favour by more than one village matron, "He's beautiful in a +sick-room." It was on one occasion when I heard this that I also heard +that he was accustomed on entering the house to pronounce the +appointed salutation, in the words of the Prayer Book, "Peace be to +this house, and to all that dwell in it." And so it came about that, +when my importunity and anxiety on the subject had overcome the +scruples of my father and nurse, and they had decided to let me have +my way rather than increase my malady by fretting, the new rector came +into my room, and my first eager question was, "Did you say +that--about Peace, you know--when you came in?" + +"I did," said the rector; and as he spoke one of his merits became +obvious. He had a most pleasing voice. + +"Say it again!" I cried, petulantly. + +"Peace be to this house, and to all that dwell in it," he repeated +slowly, and with slightly upraised hand. + +"That's Rubens and all," was my comment. + +As I wished, the rector prayed by my bedside; and I think he must have +been rather astonished by the fact that at points which struck me I +rather groaned than said, "Amen." The truth is, I had once happened to +go into a cottage where our old rector was praying by the bed of a +sick old man--a Methodist--who groaned "Amen" at certain points in a +manner which greatly impressed me, and I now did likewise, in that +imitativeness of childhood which had helped to lead me to the fancy +for surrounding my own sick bed with all the circumstances I had seen +and heard of in such cases in the village. For this reason I had (to +her hardly concealed distress) given Nurse Bundle, from time to time, +directions as to my wishes in the event of my death. I remember +especially, that I begged she would not fail to cover up all the +furniture with white cloths, and to allow all my friends to come and +see me in my coffin. Thus also I groaned and said "Amen"--"like a poor +person"--at what I deemed suitable points, as the rector prayed. + +He was not less wise in a sick room than Mrs. Bundle herself. He +contrived to quieten instead of exciting me, and to the sound of his +melodious voice reading in soothing monotone from my favourite book of +the Bible--the Revelation of St. John the Divine--I finally fell +asleep. + +When the inspired description of the New Jerusalem ended, and my own +dream began, I never knew. As I dreamed, it seemed a wonderful and +beautiful vision, though all that I could ever remember of it in +waking hours was the sheerest nonsense. + +And this was the beginning of my acquaintance with the Rev. Reginald +Andrewes. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +CONVALESCENCE--MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS--THE JOURNEY TO OAKFORD--OUR +WELCOME + + +On the day when I first left my sick room, and was moved to a sofa in +what had been my poor mother's boudoir, my father put fifty pounds +into Nurse Bundle's hand, and sent another fifty to Mr. Andrewes for +some communion vessels for the church, on which the rector had set his +heart. They were both thank-offerings. + +"I owe my son's recovery to GOD, and to you, Mrs. Bundle," said my +father, with a certain elaborateness of speech to which he was given +on important occasions. "No money could purchase such care as you +bestowed on him, and no money can reward it; but it will be doing me a +farther favour to allow me to think that, should sickness ever +overtake yourself when we are no longer together, this little sum, +laid by, may come in useful, and afford you a few comforts." + +That first evening of my convalescence we were quite jubilant; but +afterwards there were many weary days of weakness, irritability, and +_ennui_ on my part, and anxiety and disappointment on my father's. +Rubens was a great comfort at this period. For his winning ways formed +an interest, and served a little to vary the monotony of the hours +when I was too weak to bear any definite amusement or occupation. It +must have been about this time that a long cogitation with myself led +to the following conversations with Nurse Bundle and my father:-- + +"How old are you, Nurse?" I inquired, one forenoon, when she had +neatly arranged the tray containing my chop, wine, etc., by my chair. + +"Five-and-fifty, love, come September," said Nurse Bundle. + +"Do people ever marry when they are five-and-fifty, papa?" I asked +that evening, as I lay languid and weary on the sofa. + +"Yes, my dear boy, sometimes. But why do you want to know?" + +"I think I shall marry Nurse Bundle when I am old enough," I said, +with almost melancholy gravity. "She's a good deal older than I am; +but I love her very much. And she would make me very comfortable. She +knows my ways." + +My father has often told me that he would have laughed aloud, but for +the sad air of utter weariness over my helpless figure, the painful, +unchildlike anxiousness on my thin face, and in my old-fashioned air +and attitude. I have myself quite forgotten the occurrence. + +At last this most trying time was over, but the fever had left me +taller, weaker, and much in need of what doctors call "tone." All +concerned in the care of me were now unanimous in declaring that I +must have a "change of air." + +There was some little difficulty in deciding where to go. Another +visit to Aunt Maria was out of the question. Even if London had been a +suitable place, the fear of infection for my cousins made it not to be +thought of. + +"Where would _you_ like to go, Nurse?" I inquired one evening, as we +all sat in the boudoir discussing the topic of the day. + +"I should like to go wherever it's best for your good health, Master +Reginald," was Nurse Bundle's answer, which, though admirable in its +spirit, did not further the settlement of the matter we found it so +difficult to decide. + +"But where would you like to go for yourself?" I persisted. "Where +would you go if it was you going away, and nobody else?" + +"Well, my dear, if it was me just going away for myself, I think I +should go to my sister's at Oakford." + +This reply drew from me a catechism of questions about Oakford, and +Nurse Bundle's sister, and Nurse Bundle's sister's husband, and their +children; and when my father came to sit with me I had a long history +of Oakford and Nurse Bundle's relatives at my fingers' ends, and was +full of a new fancy, which was strong upon me, to go and stay for +awhile at Oakford with Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Buckle. + +"Nurse says they sometimes let lodgings," I said; "and I should like +Nurse to see her sister; and," I candidly added, "I should like to see +her myself." + +My father's uppermost wish was to please me; and as Oakford was known +to be healthy, and the doctor favoured the proposition, it was decided +according to my wishes. If we stayed long, my father was to go +backwards and forwards, and he was to fetch us when we went away. His +anxiety was still so great, and led him to watch me in a manner which +fidgeted me so much, that I think the doctor was only too glad that +the place should be sufficiently near to induce him to leave me to +the care of Nurse Bundle. + +We went by coach to Oakford. I was not allowed to sit outside on this +journey. It was only a short one, however; and, truth to say, I did +not feel strong enough for any feats of energy, and went meekly enough +into that stuffy hole, the inside! Before following me, Nurse Bundle +gave some directions to the driver, of a kind that could only be +effectual in reference to a small place where everybody was known. + +"Coachman! Oakford! And drop us at Mr. Buckle's, please, the saddler." + +"High Street, isn't it?" said the fat coachman, looking down on Mrs. +Bundle exactly as a parrot looks down from his perch. + +"To be sure; only three doors below the 'Crown.'" + +With which Mrs. Bundle gathered up her skirts, and her worsted +workbag, and clambered into the coach. + +There were two other "insides." One of these never spoke at all during +the journey. The other only spoke once, and he seems to have been +impelled thereto by a three hours' contemplation of the contrast +between my slim, wasted little figure, and Nurse Bundle's portly +person, as we sat opposite to him. He was a Scotchman, and I fancy "in +business." + +"You're weel matched to sit on the one side," was his remark. + +Once, when I was feeling faint, he opened the window without my having +spoken, and only acknowledged my thanks by a silent nod. When the +coach stopped in the High Street of Oakford, and Nurse Bundle had +descended, he so far relaxed, as he handed out me and the worsted +workbag, as to indulge his national thirst for general information by +the inquiring remark: + +"You'll be staying at the 'Crown' the night, mem?" + +"No, sir. We stop here," said Nurse Bundle. + +I caught his keen blue eye at the window whilst the coach was delayed +by the getting out of our luggage. I do not think he missed one +feature of our welcome on the threshold of the saddler's shop. + +I feel sure that Scotchmen do greatly profit by the habit they have of +"absorbing into their constitutions," so to speak, all the facts of +every kind that come within their ken. They "go in for general +information," like the Tom Toddy in Mr. Kingsley's 'Water Babies;' but +their hard heads have, fortunately, no likeness to turnips. + +This, however, is a digression. + +Mr. Benjamin Buckle, Mrs. Benjamin Buckle, Jemima Buckle, their +daughter, Mr. Buckle's apprentice, and the "general girl," or +maid-of-all-work, were all in the shop to receive us. I believe the +cat was the only living creature in the house who was not there. But +cats seldom exert themselves unnecessarily on behalf of other people, +and she awaited our arrival upstairs. I had a severe if not +undignified struggle with the string before I could get my hat off. +Then I advanced, and, holding out my hand to Mr. Buckle, said, + +"Mr. Buckle, I believe?" + +[Illustration: "Mr. Buckle, I believe?"] + +"The same to you, sir, and a many of them," said Mr. Buckle, hastily; +being, I fancy, rather put out by the touch of my frail hand, which +was certainly very unlike the leather he handled daily. He saw his +mistake, and added quickly, + +"Your servant, sir. I hope your health's better, sir?" + +"Very well, thank you," said I (all children make that answer, I +think). + +"What a little gentleman!" said Mrs. Buckle, in an audible "aside" to +my nurse. She was as good-natured a woman as Mrs. Bundle herself, but +with less brains. She lived in a chronic state of surprises and +superlatives. + +"You are Nurse's sister, aren't you, please?" I asked, going up to +her, and once more tendering my hand. "I wanted to see you very much." + +"Now just to think of that, Jemima! did you ever?" cried Mrs. Buckle. + +"La!" said Jemima; in acknowledgment of which striking remark, I bent +my head, and said, + +"How do you do, Jemima?" adding, almost without an instant's pause, +"Please take me away, Nurse! I am so very tired." + +By one immediate and unbroken action, Mrs. Bundle cut her way through +our hospitable friends and the scattered rolls of leather and other +trade accessories in the shop, and conveyed me into an arm-chair in +the sitting-room upstairs, where I sat, the tears running down my face +for very weakness. + +I had longed for the novelty of a residence above a saddler's shop; +but now, too weary for new experiences, I was only conscious that the +stairs were narrow, the room dingy and vulgar after the rooms at home, +and as I wept I wished I had never come. + +At this day, I am glad that I had the courtesy to restrain my +feelings, and not to damp the delighted welcome of Nurse and her +friends by an insulting avowal of my disappointment. I really was not +a spoilt child; and indeed, the insolent and undisciplined egotism of +many children "now-a-days," was not often tolerated by the past +generation. As I sat silent and sad, Nurse Bundle ransacked her bag, +muttering, "What a fool I be, to be sure!" and anon produced a flask +of wine, from which she filled a wine-glass with a very big leg, which +was one of the chimney ornaments. I emptied it in obedience to her +orders, and in a few minutes my tears ceased, and I began to take a +more cheerful view of the wallpaper and the antimacassars. + +"What a pretty cat!" I said, at last. The said cat, a beauty, was +lying on the hearthrug. + +"Isn't it a beauty, love?" said Nurse Bundle; "and look, my dear, at +your own little dog lying as good as gold in the rocking-chair, and +not so much as looking at puss." + +Rubens did not _quite_ deserve this panegyric. He lay in his chair +without touching puss, it is true; but he kept his eye firmly and +constantly fixed upon her, only restrained from an attack by my known +objection to such proceedings, and by the immovable composure of the +good lady herself. Half a movement of encouragement on my part, half a +movement of flight on the cat's, and Rubens would have been after her. +All this was so plainly expressed in his attitude, that I burst out +laughing. Rubens chose to take this as a sound to the chase, and only +by the most peremptory orders could I induce him to keep quiet. As to +the cat, I saw one convulsive twitch of the very tip of her tail, +eloquent of wrath; otherwise she never moved. + +"Now, my dear," said Mrs. Bundle, "suppose you come upstairs to bed, +and get a good night's rest. I can hear Jemima a-shaking of the coals +in the warming-pan now, on the stairs." + +Warming-pans were not much used at home, and I was greatly interested +in the brazen implement which Jemima wielded so dexterously. + +"It's like an ironing cloth," was my comment when I got between the +sheets. I had often warmed my hands on the table where Nurse ironed my +collars at home. + +Rubens duly came to bed; and I fell asleep, well satisfied on the +whole with Oakford and the saddler's household. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE TINSMITH'S--THE BEAVER BONNETS--A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING--I FAIL +TO SECURE A SISTER--RUBENS AND THE DOLL + + +Oakford was not a large town. It only boasted of one street, "to be +called a street," as Mr. Buckle phrased it, though two or three lanes, +with more or less pretentious rows of houses, and so forth, ran at +right angles to the High Street. The High Street was a steep hill. It +was tolerably broad, very clean, pebbled and picturesque. The "Crown +Inn" was an old house with an historical legend attached to it. +Several of the shops were also in very old houses, with overhanging +upper stories and most comfortable window seats. Mr. Buckle's was one +of these. + +The air of the place was keen, but very healthy, and I seemed to gain +strength with every hour of my stay. With strength, all my interest in +the novelty of the situation woke afresh, and I was delighted with +everything, but especially with the shop. + +On the subject of the saddlery business, I must confess that a +difference of opinion existed between myself and my excellent nurse. +She jealously maintained my position as a "young gentleman" and +lodger, against the familiarity into which the Buckles and I fell by +common consent. She served my meals in separate state, and kept +Jemima as well as herself in attendance on my wants. She made my +sitting-room as comfortable as she could, and here it was her wish +that I should sit, when in the house, "like a young gentleman." My +wish, on the contrary, was to be in the shop, and as much as possible +like a grown-up saddler. It did seem so delightful to be always +working at that nice-smelling leather, and to be able to make for +oneself unlimited straps, whips, and other masculine appendages. I was +perfectly happy with spare fragments, cutting out miniature saddles +and straps, stamping lines, punching holes, and mislaying the good +saddler's tools in these efforts; whilst my thoughts were occupied +with many a childish plan for inducing my father to apprentice me to +the worthy Mr. Buckle. + +I was a good deal taken with Mr. Buckle's apprentice, a rosy-cheeked +young man, whose dress and manners I endeavoured as much as possible +to imitate. I strutted in imitation of his style of walking down the +High Street, and about this time Nurse Bundle was wont to say she +"couldn't think what had come to" my hat, that it was "always stuck on +one side." Pondering the history of Dick Whittington and the fair +Alice, I said one day to Jemima Buckle, + +"I suppose you and Andrew will marry, and when Mr. Buckle dies you +will have the shop?" + +"Me marry the 'prentice!" said Miss Jemima. And I discovered how +little I knew of the shades of "caste" in Oakford. + +Jemima used often to take me out when Nurse Bundle was otherwise +engaged, and we were always very good friends. One day, I remember, +she was going to a shop about half way up the High Street, and I +obtained leave to go with her. Mrs. Bundle was busy superintending the +cooking of some special delicacy for her "young gentleman's" dinner, +and Jemima and I set forth on our errand. It was to a tinsmith's shop, +where a bath had been ordered for my accommodation. + +Ah! through how many years that steep street, with its clean, sunny +stones, its irregular line of quaint old buildings, and the distant +glimpse of big trees within palings into which it passed at the top, +where the town touched the outskirts of some gentleman's place, has +remained on my mind like a picture! Getting a little vague after a few +years, and then perhaps a little altered, as fancy almost +involuntarily supplied the defects of memory; but still that steep +street, that tinsmith's shop--_the_ features of Oakford! + +I have since thought that Jemima must have had some special attraction +to the tinsmith's, her errands there were so many, and took so much +time. This occasion may be divided into three distinct periods. During +the first, I waited in that state of vacant patience whereby one +endures other people's shopping. During the second, I walked round all +the cans, pans, colanders, and graters, and took a fancy to a tin mug. +It was neither so valuable nor so handsome as the silver mug with +dragon handles given me by my Indian godfather, but it was a novelty. +When I looked closer, however, I found that it was marked, in plain +figures, fourpence, which at that time was beyond my means; so I +walked to the door, that I might solace the third period by looking +out into the street. As I looked, there came down the hill a fine, +large, sleek donkey, led by an old man-servant, and having on its back +what is called a Spanish saddle, in which two little girls sat side +by side, the whole party jogging quietly along at a foot's pace in the +sunshine. I may say here that my experience of little girls had been +almost entirely confined to my cousins, and that I was so overwhelmed +and impressed by the loveliness of these two children, and by their +quaint, queenly little ways, that time has not dimmed one line in the +picture that they then made upon my mind. I can see them now as +clearly as I saw them then, as I stood at the tinsmith's door in the +High Street of Oakford--let me see, how many years ago? ("Never mind," +says my wife; "go on with the story, my dear," and I go on.) + +The child who looked the older, but was, as I afterwards discovered, +the younger of the two, was also the less pretty. And yet she had a +sweet little face, hair like spun gold, and blue-grey eyes with dark +lashes. She wore a grey frock of some warm material, below which +peeped her indoors dress of blue. The outer coat had a quaint cape +like a coachman's, which was relieved by a broad white crimped frill +round her throat. Her legs were cased in knitted gaiters of white +wool, and her hands in the most comical miniatures of gloves. On her +fairy head she wore a large bonnet of grey beaver, with a frill +inside. (My wife explains that it was a "cap-front," adorned with +little bunches of ribbon, and having a cap attached to it, the whole +being put on separately before the bonnet. Details which seem to amuse +my little daughters, and to have less interest for my sons.) But it +was her sister who shone on my young eyes like a fairy vision. She +looked too delicate, too brilliant, too utterly lovely, for anywhere +but fairy-land. She ought to have been kept in tissue-paper, like the +loveliest of wax dolls. Her hair was the true flaxen, the very fairest +of the fair. The purity and vividness of the tints of red and white in +her face I have never seen equalled. Her eyes were of speedwell blue, +and looked as if they were meant to be always more or less brimming +with tears. To say the truth, her face had not half the character +which gave force to that of the other little damsel, but a certain +helplessness about it gave it a peculiar charm. She was dressed +exactly like the other, with one exception; her bonnet was of white +beaver, and she became it like a queen. + +At the tinsmith's door they stopped, and the old man-servant, after +unbuckling a strap which seemed to support them in their saddle, +lifted each little miss in turn to the ground. Once on the pavement, +the little lady of the grey beaver shook herself out, and proceeded to +straighten the disarranged overcoat of her companion, and then, taking +her by the hand, the two clambered up the step into the shop. The +tinsmith's shop boasted of two seats, and on to one of these she of +the grey beaver with some difficulty climbed. The eyes of the other +were fast filling with tears, when from her lofty perch the sister +caught sight of the man-servant, who stood in the doorway, and she +beckoned him with a wave of her tiny finger. + +"Lift her up, if you please," she said, on his approach. And the other +child was placed on the other chair. + +The shopman appeared to know them, and though he smiled, he said very +respectfully, + +"What article can I show you this morning, ladies?" + +The fairy-like creature in the white beaver, who had been fumbling in +her miniature glove, now timidly laid a farthing on the counter, and +then turning her back for very shyness on the shopman, raised one +small shoulder, and inclining her head towards it, gave an appealing +glance at her sister out of the pale-blue eyes. That little lady, thus +appealed to, firmly placed another farthing on the board, and said in +the tiniest but most decided of voices, + + "TWO FLAT IRONS, IF YOU PLEASE." + +Hereupon the shopman produced a drawer from below the counter, and set +it before them. What it contained I was not tall enough to see, but +out of it he took several tiny flat irons of triangular shape, and +apparently made of pewter, or some alloy of tin. These the grey beaver +examined and tried upon a corner of her cape with inimitable gravity +and importance. At last she selected two, and keeping one for herself, +gave the other to her sister. + +"Is it a nice one?" the little white-beavered lady inquired. + +"Very nice." + +"_Kite_ as nice as yours?" she persisted. + +"Just the same," said the other, firmly. And having glanced at the +corner to see that the farthings were both duly deposited, she rolled +abruptly over on her seat, and scrambled off backwards, a manoeuvre +which the other child accomplished with more difficulty. The coats and +capes were then put tidy as before, and the two went out of the shop +together hand in hand. + +Then the old man-servant lifted them into the Spanish saddle, and +buckled the strap, and away they went up the steep street, and over +the brow of the hill, where trees and palings began to show, the +beaver bonnets nodding together in consultation over the flat irons. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE LITTLE LADIES AGAIN--THE MEADS--THE DROWNED DOLL + + +"Mr. Buckle, sir, can you oblige me with eight farthings for +twopence?" + +I had closely copied this form of speech from the apprentice, whose +ways, as I have said, I endeavoured in every way to imitate. Thus, +twopence being at that time the extent of my resources, I went about +for some days after my adventure at the tinsmith's with all my worldly +wealth in my pocket in farthings, pondering many matters. + +[Illustration: She rolled abruptly over on her seat and scrambled off +backwards.] + +I began to have my doubts about saddlery as a profession. Truth to +say, a want beyond the cutting and punching of leather had begun to +stir within me. I wished for a sister. Somehow I had never desired to +adopt one of my cousins in this relation, not even my dear friend +Polly; but since I had seen the little lady in the white beaver, I +felt how nice it would be to have such a sister to play with, as I had +heard of other sisters and brothers playing together. Then I fancied +myself showing her all my possessions at home, and begging the like +for her from my indulgent father. I pictured the new interest which my +old toys would derive from being exhibited to her. I thought I would +beg for an exhibition of the magic lantern, for a garden for her +like my own, and for several half-holidays. It delighted me to imagine +myself presenting her with whatever she most admired, like some +Eastern potentate or fairy godmother. But I could not connect her in +my mind with the saddlery business. I felt that to possess so dainty +and elegant a little lady as a sister was incompatible with an +apprenticeship to Mr. Buckle. + +Meanwhile I kept watch on the High Street from Mr. Buckle's door. One +morning I saw the donkey, the man, the Spanish saddle, and the beaver +bonnets come over the brow of the hill, and I forthwith ran to Nurse +Bundle, and begged leave to go alone to the tinsmith's, and invest one +of my eight farthings in a flat iron. It was only a few yards off, and +she consented; but, as I had to submit to be dressed, by the time I +got there the little ladies were already in the shop, and seated on +the two chairs. My fairy beauty looked round as I came in, and +recognizing me, gave a little low laugh, and put her head on her own +shoulder, and then peeped again, smiling so sweetly that I fairly +loved her. The other was too deeply engaged in poking and fumbling for +farthings in her glove to permit herself to be distracted by anything +or anybody. This process was so slow that the shopman came up to me +and asked what I wanted. I took a well-warmed farthing from the +handful I carried, and laid it on the counter, saying-- + +"A flat iron, if you please." + +He put several before me, and after making a show of testing them on +the end of my comforter, I selected one at random. I know that I did +not do it with half the air which the little grey-beavered lady had +thrown over the proceeding, but I hardly deserved the scornful tone in +which she addressed no one in particular with the remark, "He has no +business with flat irons. He's only a boy." + +She evidently expected no reply, for without a pause she proceeded to +count out five farthings on to the counter, saying as she did so, "A +frying-pan, a gridiron, a dish, and two plates, if you please." On +which, to my astonishment, miniature specimens of these articles, made +of the same material as the flat irons, were produced from the box +whence those had come. I was so bewildered by the severity of the +little lady's remarks, and the wonderful things which she obtained for +her farthings, that I dropped my remaining seven on to the shop floor, +and was still grubbing for them in the dust, when the children having +finished their shopping, came backwards off the seats as usual. They +passed me in the doorway, hand in hand. The little lady with the white +beaver was next to me, and as she passed she gave a shy glance, and +her face dimpled all over into smiles. Unspeakably pleased by her +recognition, I abandoned my farthings to their fate, and jumping up, I +held out my dusty hand to the little damsel, saying hastily but as +civilly as I could, "How do you do? I hope you're pretty well. And oh, +please, _will_ you be my sister?" + +Having once begun, I felt quite equal to a full explanation of my +position and the prospect of toys and treats before us both. I was +even prepared, in the generous excitement of the moment to endow my +new sister with a joint partnership in the possession of Rubens, and +was about to explain all the advantages the little lady would derive +from having me for a brother, when I was stopped by the changed +expression on her pretty face. + +I suppose my sudden movement had startled her, for her smiles vanished +in a look of terror, as she clung to her companion, who opened wide +her eyes, and shaking her grey beaver vehemently, said, "We don't know +you, Boy!" + +Then they fled to the side of the old man-servant as fast as their +white-gaitered legs would carry them. + +I watered the dusty floor of the shop with tears of vexation as I +resumed my search for the farthings, and having found them I went back +to the saddler's, pounding them in my hot hand, and bitterly +disappointed. + +I don't suppose that Rubens understood the feelings which gave an +extra warmth to my caresses, as I hugged him in my arms, exclaiming, + +"_You_ aren't afraid of me, you dear thing!" + +But he responded sympathetically, both with tongue and tail. + +I had not frightened the little ladies away from the High Street, it +seemed. I saw them again two days later. They had been out as usual, +and some trifling mischance having happened to the Spanish saddle, +they called at Mr. Buckle's door for repairs. I was in the shop, and +could see the two little maidens as they sat hanging over their strap, +with a doll dressed very much like themselves between them. I crept +nearer to the door, where the quick grey eyes of the younger one +caught sight of me, and I heard her say in her peculiarly trenchant +tones-- + +"Why, there's that Boy again!" + +I slipped a little to one side, and took up a tool and a bit of +leather with a pretence of working, hoping to be out of sight, and +yet to be able to look at the little white-beavered fairy, for whom my +fancy was in no way abated. But her keen-eyed sister saw me still, and +her next remark rang out with uncompromising distinctness-- + +"He's in the shop still. He's working. He must be a shop-boy!" + +I dropped the tools, and rushed away to my sitting-room. My +mortification was complete, and it was of a kind that Rubens could not +understand. Fortunately for me, he simply went with my humour, without +being particular as to the reason of it, like the tenderest of women. + +A day or two afterwards I went out with Rubens and Jemima Buckle for a +walk. Our way home lay through some flat green meads, crossed by a +stream, which, in its turn, was crossed by a little rustic bridge. As +we came into these fields we met a man whose face seemed familiar, +though I could not at first recall where I had seen him. Afterwards I +remembered that he was the tinsmith, and Jemima stayed to chat with +him for a few minutes, but Rubens and I strolled on. + +It seemed an odd coincidence that, a few seconds after meeting the +tinsmith, I should meet the little white-beavered lady. She was +crossing the bridge. Her sister was not with her, nor the donkey, nor +the man-servant. She was walking with a nurse, and she carried a big +doll in her arms. The doll, as I have said before, was "got up" +wonderfully like its mistress. It had a miniature coat and cape and +frills, it had leggings, it had a white plush bonnet (so my wife +enables me to affirm), it had hair just the colour of the little +lady's locks. + +As she crossed the bridge, she seemed much pleased by the running of +the water beneath her feet, and saying, "Please let Dolly 'ook," in +her pretty broken tones, she pushed her doll through the rustic work, +holding it by its sash. But, alas! the doll was heavy, and the sash +insecurely fastened. It gave way, and the doll plunged into the +stream. + +Once more the sweet little face was convulsed by a look of terror and +distress. As the doll floated out on the other side of the bridge, she +shrieked and wrung her hands. As for me, I ran down to the edge of the +stream, calling Rubens after me, and pointing to the doll. Only too +glad of an excuse for a plunge, in he dashed, and soon brought the +unfortunate miss to shore by one of her gaitered legs. It was with +some triumph that I carried the dripping doll to its little mistress, +and heard the nurse admonish her to-- + +"Thank the young gentleman, my dear." + +I have often since heard of faces "like an April sky," but I never saw +one which did so resemble it in being by turns bright and overcast, +with tears and smiles struggling together, and fear and pleased +recognition, as the face of the little blonde in the white beaver +bonnet. It was she who held out her hand this time, and as I took it +she said, "'ank you 'erry much." + +"It was Rubens' doing, not mine," said I. "Rubens! shake hands, sir!" + +But the little lady was frightened. She shrank away from the warm +greeting of Rubens, and I was obliged to shake hands with him myself +to satisfy his feelings. + +The nursemaid had been wringing out the doll's clothes for the little +lady, but now they moved on together. + +"Dood-bye!" said the little lady, smiling and waving her hand. I +waved mine, and then Jemima, having parted with the tinsmith, came up, +and we went home. + +I never saw the beaver bonnets again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +POLLY--THE PEW AND THE PULPIT--THE FATE OF THE FLAT IRON + + +By the time that my father came to fetch us away, I was wonderfully +improved in health and strength. I even wanted to go back outside the +coach; but this was not allowed. + +I did not forget the little lady in the white beaver, even after my +return to Dacrefield. I was fond of drawing, and I made what seemed to +me a rather striking portrait of her (at least as to colouring), and +wore it tied by a bit of string round my neck. It is unromantic to +have to confess that it fell at last into the washhand basin, and was +reduced to pulp. + +I brought my farthing flat-iron home with me, and it was for long a +favourite plaything. I used to sprinkle corners of my pocket-handkerchief +with water, as I had seen Nurse Bundle "damp fine things" before ironing +them. But after all, "play" of this kind is dull work played alone. I was +very glad when Polly came. + +It was a few weeks after our return that my father proposed to ask +Cousin Polly to pay us a visit. I think my aunt had said something in +a letter about her not being well, and the visit was supposed to be +for the benefit of her health. + +She was not ill for long at Dacrefield. My "lessons" were of a very +slight description as yet, and we spent most of our time out of doors. +The fun of showing Polly about the farm and grounds was quite as +satisfactory as any that my dream of the flaxen-haired sister had +promised. I was quite prepared to yield to Cousin Polly in all things +as before; but she, no doubt in deference to my position as host, met +me halfway with unusual affability and graciousness. Country life +exactly suited her. I think she was profoundly happy exploring the +garden, making friends with the cows and horses, feeding the rabbits +and chickens, and "playing at haunted castles" in the barn. + +Her vigour and daring when we climbed trees together were the objects +of my constant admiration. Tree-climbing was Polly's favourite +amusement, and the various fancies she "pretended" in connection with +it, did credit to her imaginative powers. Sometimes she "pretended" to +be Jack in the Beanstalk; sometimes she pretended to be at the +mast-head of a ship at sea; sometimes to be in an upper story of a +fairy-house; sometimes to be escaping from a bear; sometimes (with +recollections of London) to be the bear himself on a pole, or a monkey +in the Zoological Gardens; or to be on the top of the Monument or of +St. Paul's. Our most common game, however, was the time-honoured drama +of "houses." Each branch constituted a story, and we used to emulate +each other in our exploits of high climbing, with a formula that ran +thus:-- + +"Now I'm in the area" (the lowest branch). "Now I'm on the dining-room +floor" (the next), and so on, ending with, "And now I'm the very poor +person in the garret." + +There were two trees which stood near each other, of about equal +difficulty. + +We used each to climb one, and as we started together, the one who +first became the "very poor person in the garret" was held to be the +winner of the game. + +We were not allowed to climb trees on Sunday, which was a severe +exercise of Polly's principles. One Sunday afternoon, however, much to +my amazement, she led me away down the shrubbery, saying, + +"My dear Regie! I've found two trees which I'm sure we may climb on +Sundays." Much puzzled, I nevertheless yielded to her, being quite +accustomed to trust all her proceedings. + +I was not enlightened by the appearance of the trees, which were very +much like others as to their ladder-like peculiarities. They were old +Portugal laurels which had been cut in a good deal at various times. +They looked very easy to climb, and did not seem to boast many +"stories." I did not see anything about them adapted for Sunday +amusement in particular. + +But Polly soon explained herself. + +"Look here, Regie," said she; "this tree has got three beautiful +branches, one for the clerk, one for the reading-desk, and one for the +pulpit. I'm going to get into the top one and preach you a sermon; and +you're to sit in that other tree--it makes a capital pew. I'm sure +it's quite a Sunday game," added Polly, mounting to the pulpit with +her accustomed energy. + +I seated myself in the other tree; and Polly, after consuming some +time in "settling herself," appeared to be ready; but she still +hesitated, and finally burst out laughing. + +"I beg your pardon," she added, rubbing her hands over her laughing +mouth, and composing herself. "Now I'm going to begin." But she still +giggled, which led me to say-- + +"Never mind the text, as you're laughing. Begin at once without." + +"Very well," said Polly. + +There was another break down, and then she seemed fairly grave. + +"My dear brethren," she began. + +"There's only one of us," I ventured to observe. + +"Now, Regie, you mustn't speak. The congregation never speaks to the +clergyman when he's preaching." + +"It's such a small congregation," I pleaded. + +"Well, then, I won't preach at all, if you go on like that," said +Polly. + +But, as I saw that she was getting cross, and as I had no intention of +offending her, I apologized, and begged her to proceed with her +sermon. So she began again accordingly-- + +"My dear brethren." + +But here she paused; and after a few moments of expectation on my +part, and silence on Polly's, she said-- + +"Is your pew comfortable, Regie dear?" + +"Very," said I. "How do you like the pulpit?" + +"Very much indeed," said Polly; "but I don't think I can preach +without a cushion. Suppose we talk." + +Thus the sermon was abandoned; and as Polly refused to let me try my +luck in the pulpit, she remained at a considerably higher level than I +was. At last I became impatient of this fact, and began to climb +higher. + +[Illustration: Polly and Regie in the "Pulpit" and the "Pew".] + +"Stop!" cried Polly; "you mustn't leave your pew." + +"I'm going into the gallery," a happy thought enabled me to say. + +Polly made no answer. She seemed to be meditating some step; and +presently I saw her scramble down to the ground in her own rapid +fashion. + +"Regie dear, will you promise not to get into my pulpit till I come +back?" she begged. + +I gave the promise; and, without answering my questions as to what she +was going to do, she sped off towards the house. In about five minutes +she returned with something held in the skirt of her frock, which +seemed greatly to incommode her in climbing. At last she reached the +pulpit, but she did not stay there. Up and on she went, much hindered +by her burden. + +"Polly! Polly!" I cried. "You mustn't go higher than the pulpit. You +know it isn't fair. The pulpit is the top one, and you must stay +there. The clergyman never goes into the gallery." + +"I'm not going into the gallery," she gasped; and on she went to the +topmost of the large branches. There she paused, and from her lap she +drew forth the dinner-bell. + +"I'm in the belfry," she shouted in tones of triumph, "and I'm going +to ring the bell for service." + +Which she accordingly did, with such a hearty goodwill that Nurse +Bundle and several others of the household came out to see what was +the matter. My father laughed loudly, but Mrs. Bundle was seriously +displeased. + +"Master Reginald would never have thought of no such thing on a Sunday +afternoon but for you, Miss Polly," she said, with a partiality for +her "own boy" which offended my sense of justice. + +"I climbed a tree too, Nurse," I said, emphatically. + +"And it was only a Sunday kind of climbing," Polly pleaded. But Nurse +Bundle refused to see the force of Polly's idea; we were ignominiously +dismissed to the nursery, and thenceforward were obliged, as before, +to confine our tree-climbing exploits to the six working days of the +week. + +And these Portugal laurels bore the names of the Pulpit and the Pew +ever afterwards. + + * * * * * + +I showed my flat iron to Polly, and she was so much pleased with it +that I greatly regretted that I had only brought away this one from +Oakford. I should have given it to her, but for its connection with +the little white-beavered lady. + +We both played with it; and at a suggestion of Polly's, we gave quite +a new character to our "wash" (or rather "ironing," for we omitted the +earlier processes of the laundry). We used to cut small models of +clothes out of white paper, and then iron them with the farthing iron. +How nobly that domestic implement did its duty till the luckless day +when Polly became uneasy because we did not "put it down to the fire +to get hot!" + +"Nurse doesn't like us to play with fire," I conscientiously reminded +her. + +"It's not playing with fire; it's only putting the iron on the hob," +said Polly. + +And to this unworthy evasion I yielded, and--my arm being longer than +Polly's--put the flat iron on the top bar of the nursery grate with my +own hand. Whilst the iron was heating we went back to our scissors and +paper. + +"You cut out a few more white petticoats, Regie dear," said Polly, +"and I will make an iron-holder;" with which she calmly cut several +inches off the end of her sash, and began to fold it for the purpose. + +Aunt Maria's nursery discipline was firm, but her own nature was +independent, almost to aggressiveness; and Polly inherited enough of +the latter to more than counteract the repression of the former. Thus +all Cousin Polly's proceedings were very direct, and, if necessary, +daring. When she cut her sash, I exclaimed--"My dear Polly!" just as +Uncle Ascott was wont at times to cry--"My dear Maria!" + +"I'd nothing else to make it of," said Polly, calmly. "It's better +than cutting up my pocket-handkerchief, for it only shortens it a +little, and Mamma often cuts the ends a little when our sashes ravel. +How many petticoats have you done, dear?" + +"Four," said I. + +"Well, we've three skirts. Those long strips will do for Uncle +Reginald's neckties. You can cut that last sheet into two pieces, and +we'll pretend they're tablecloths. And then I think you'd better fetch +the iron. Here's the holder." + +"Oh! Polly dear! It is such fun!" I cried; but as I drew near to the +fireplace the words died away on my lips. My flat iron was gone. + +At first I thought it had fallen on to the hearth; but looking nearer +I saw a blob or button of lead upon the bar of the grate. There was no +resisting the conviction which forced itself upon me: my flat iron was +melted. + +Polly was much distressed. Doubly so because she had been the cause of +the misfortune. As we were examining the shapeless lump of metal, she +said, "It's like a little lump of silver that Miss Blomfield has +hanging to her watch chain;" which determined me to have a hole made +through the remains of my flat iron, and do the same. + +"Papa has promised me a watch next birthday," I added. + +Polly and I were very happy and merry together; but her visit came to +an end at last. Aunt Maria came to fetch her. She had brought her down +when she came, but had only stayed one night. On this occasion she +stayed from Saturday to Monday. Aunt Maria never allowed any of the +girls to travel alone, and they were never allowed to visit without +her at any but relations' houses. One consequence of which was, that +when they grew up, and were large young women with large noses, they +were the most helpless creatures at a railway-station that I ever +beheld. + +Whilst Aunt Maria was with us, she "spoke seriously," as it is called, +to my father about my education. I think she was shocked to discover +how thoroughly Polly and I had been "running wild" during Polly's +visit. Whether my father had given any rash assent to proposals for +our studying together, which Aunt Maria may have made at her last +visit, or not, I do not know. Anyway, my aunt seemed to be shocked, +and enlarged to my father on the waste of time involved in allowing me +to run wild so long. My father was apt to "take things easy," and I +fancy he made some vague promises as to my education, which satisfied +my aunt for the time. Polly and I parted with much grief on both +sides. Aunt Maria took her back to her lessons, and I was left to my +loneliness. + +I felt Polly's loss very much, especially as my father happened to be +a good deal engaged just then, and Nurse Bundle busy superintending +some new arrangements in our nursery premises. I think she missed +Polly herself; we had not been so quiet for some weeks. We almost felt +it dull. + +"Of course a country place _is_ very quiet," Mrs. Bundle said one +evening to the housekeeper, with whom we were having tea for a change. +"Anybody feels it that has ever lived in a town, where people is +always dropping in." + +"What's 'dropping in,' Nurse?" I asked. + +"Well, my dear, just calling in at anybody's house, and sitting down +in a friendly way, to exchange the weather and pass time like." + +"That must be very nice," I said. + +"Like as if we was in Oakford," Mrs. Bundle continued, "and I could +drop in, as it might be this afternoon, and take a seat in my sister's +and ask after their good healths." + +"I wish we could," said I. + +The idea fermented in my brain, as ideas were wont to do, in the large +share of solitary hours that fell to my lot. The result of it was the +following adventure. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +RUBENS AND I "DROP IN" AT THE RECTORY--GARDENS AND GARDENERS--MY +FATHER COMES FOR ME + + +One fine morning, when my father was busy with the farm-bailiff, and +Mrs. Bundle was "sorting" some clothes, I took my best hat from the +wardrobe, deliberately, and with some difficulty put on a clean frill, +fastened my boots, and calling Rubens after me, set forth from the +hall unnoticed by any of the family. + +Rubens jumped up at me in an inquiring fashion as we went along. He +could not imagine where we were going. I knew quite well. I was making +for the Rectory, the road to which I knew. I had often thought I +should like to go and see Mr. Andrewes, and Mrs. Bundle's remarks to +the housekeeper had suggested to me the idea of calling upon him. We +were near neighbours, though we did not live in a town. I resolved to +"drop in" at the Rectory. + +It was a lovely morning, and Rubens and I quite enjoyed our walk. He +became so much excited that it was with difficulty that I withheld him +from chasing the ducks on the pond in Mr. Andrewes' farm-yard, as we +went through it. (The parson had a little farm attached to his +Rectory.) Then I with difficulty unlatched the heavy gate leading into +the drive, and fastened it again with the scrupulous care of a +country squire's son. The grounds were exquisitely kept. Mr. Andrewes +was a first-rate gardener and a fair farmer. That neatness, without +which the brightest flowers will not "show themselves" (as gardeners +say), did full justice to every luxuriant shrub, and set off the pale, +delicately-beautiful border of snowdrops and crocuses which edged the +road, and the clumps of daffodil, polyanthus, and primrose flowers +dotted hither and thither. I was not surprised to hear the chorus of +birds above my head, for it was one of the parson's "oddities" that he +would have no birds shot on his premises. + +When I came into the flower-garden, there was more exquisite neatness, +and more bright spring flowers, thinly scattered in comparison with +summer blossoms, but shining brightly against the rich dark mould. And +on the turf were lying gardening-tools, and busy among the tools and +flower-beds were two men--the Rev. Reginald Andrewes and his gardener. +It took me several seconds to distinguish master from man. They were +both in straw hats and shirt sleeves, but I recognised the parson by +his trousers. His hat was the older of the two, and not by any means +"canonical." Having found him, I went up to the bed where he was busy, +and sat down on the grass near him, without speaking. (I was +accustomed to respect my father's "busy" moments, and yet to be with +him.) Rubens followed my example, and sat down in silence also. He had +smelt the parson before, and wagged his tail faintly as he saw him. +But he reserved his opinion of the gardener, and seemed rather +disposed to growl when he touched the wheelbarrow. + +"Bless me!" said Mr. Andrewes, who was startled, as he well might be, +by my appearance. "Why, my dear boy, how are you?" + +"Very well, thank you," said I, getting up and offering my hand; "I've +dropped in." + +"Dear me!" said Mr. Andrewes; "I mean, I'm very glad to see you! Won't +you come in? You mustn't sit on the grass." + +"What a pretty garden you have!" I said, as we walked slowly towards +the house. Mr. Andrewes turned round. + +"Well, pretty well. It amuses me, you know," he said, with the mock +humility of a real horticulturist. And he looked round his garden with +an unmistakable glance of pride and affection. "Have you a garden, +Reginald?" he inquired. + +"Yes," I said. "At least, I've two beds and a border. The beds are +shaped like an R and a D. But I haven't touched them since I was ill. +The gardener tidied them up when I was at Oakford, and I think he has +dug up all my plants. At least I couldn't find the Bachelor's Button, +nor the London Pride, nor the Pansies, and I saw the Lavender-bush on +the rubbish-heap." + +"So they do--so they always do!" said the parson, excitedly. "The only +way is to keep in the garden with them, and let nothing go into the +wheelbarrow but what you see.--Jones! you may go to your dinner. I +watch Jones like a dragon, but he sweeps up a tap-root now and then, +all the same; and yet he's better than most of them. Some flowers are +especially apt to take leave of one's beds and borders," Mr. Andrewes +went on. He was talking to himself rather than to me by this time. +"Fraxinellas, double-grey primroses, ay, and the pink and white ones +too. And hepaticas, red, blue, and white." + +"What are hepaticas like?" I asked. + +"Let me show you," said Mr. Andrewes, crossing the garden. "Look here! +there are the pretty little things. I have seen them growing wild in +Canada--single ones, that is. The leaves are of a dull green, and when +they fade, the whole plant is hardly to be distinguished from Mother +Earth--at least, not by a gardener's eye. If you will promise me not +to let the gardener meddle with them, unless you are there to look +after him, I will give you plants for your beds and borders, my boy." + +"Oh, thank you," I said; "I like gardening very much. I should like to +garden like you. I've got a spade, and a hoe, and a fork, and I had a +rake, but it's lost. But I know papa will give me another; and I can +tidy my own beds, so the gardener need not touch them; and if there +was a wheelbarrow small enough for me to wheel, I could take my weeds +away myself, you know." + +And I chattered on about my garden, for, like other children, I was +apt to "take up" things very warmly, in imitation of other people; and +Mr. Andrewes had already fired my imagination with dreams of a little +garden in perfect order and beauty, and tended by my own hands alone; +and as I talked of my garden, the parson talked of his, and so we +wandered from border to border, finding each other very good company, +Rubens walking demurely at our heels. A great many of Mr. Andrewes' +remarks, though I am sure they were very instructive, were beyond my +power of understanding; but as he closed each lecture on the various +flowers by a promise of a root, a cutting, a sucker, a seedling, or a +bulb, as the case might be, I was an attentive and well-satisfied +listener. I much admired some daffodils, and Mr. Andrewes at once +began to pick a bunch of them for me. + +"Isn't it a pity to pick them?" I said, politely. + +"My dear Regie," said Mr. Andrewes, "if ever you see anybody with a +good garden of flowers who grudges picking them for his friends, you +may be quite sure he has not learnt half of what his flowers can teach +him. Flowers are generous enough. The more you take from them the more +they give. And yet I have seen people with beds glowing with +geraniums, and trees laden with roses, who grudged to pluck them, not +knowing that they would bloom all the better and more luxuriantly for +being culled." + +"Do daffodils flower better when the flowers are picked off?" I asked, +having my full share of the childish propensity for asking awkward and +candid questions. Mr. Andrewes laughed. + +"Well, no. I must confess they are not quite like geraniums in this +respect. And spring flowers are so few and so precious, one may be +excused for not quite cutting them like summer flowers. But it +wouldn't do only to be generous when it costs one nothing. Eh, Regie?" + +I laughed and said "No," which was what I was expected to say, and +thanked the parson for the daffodils. He pulled out his watch. + +"My dear boy, it's luncheon time. Will you come in and have something +to eat with me?" + +I hesitated; Mrs. Bundle had not spoken of any meal in connection with +the ceremony of "dropping in," but, on the other hand, I should +certainly like to lunch at the Rectory, I thought. And, indeed, I was +hungry. + +"Oh, you must come," said Mr. Andrewes, leading me away without +waiting for an answer. "I'm sure you must be hungry, and the dog too. +What's his name, eh?" + +"Rubens," said I. + +"Does he paint?" Mr. Andrewes inquired. But as I knew nothing of +Painter Peter Paul Rubens or his works, I was only puzzled, and said +he knew a good many tricks which I had taught him. + +"We'll see if he can beg for chicken-bones," said the parson, +hospitably; and indoors we went. Mr. Andrewes said grace, though not +in the words to which I was accustomed, and we sat down together, +Rubens lying by my chair. I endeavoured to conduct myself with the +strictest propriety, and I believe succeeded, except for the trifling +mischance of spilling some bread-sauce on to my jacket. Mr. Andrewes +saw this, however, and wanted to fasten a table-napkin round me, to +which I objected. + +"Too like a pinafore, eh?" said he, with a sly laugh. + +"I don't think I ought to wear pinafores now," I said, in a grave and +injured tone. "Leo Damer doesn't, and he's not much older than I am. +But I think," I added, candidly, "he rather does as he likes, because +he's got nobody to look after him." + +The parson laughed, and then gave a heavy sigh. + +"I wish my mother could come back, and tie a pinafore round my neck!" +he exclaimed, abruptly. Then I believe he suddenly remembered that I +had lost my mother and was vexed with himself for his hasty speech. I +saw nothing inconsiderate in the remark, however, and only said, + +"Is your mother dead?" + +"Yes, my boy. Many years ago," said Mr. Andrewes. + +"Did your father marry anybody else?" I inquired. + +"My father died before my mother." + +"Dear me," said I; "how very sad! Leo's father and mother died +together. They were drowned in his father's yacht." I was in the +middle of a history of my friend Leo, and of my visit to London, when +a bell pealed loudly through the house. + +"Somebody's in a hurry," said Mr. Andrewes; "that's the front-door +bell." + +In three minutes the dining-room door was opened, and the servant +announced "Mr. Dacre." It would be untrue to say that I did not feel a +little guilty when my father walked into the room. And yet I had not +really thought there was "any harm" in my expedition. I think I was +chiefly annoyed by the ignominious end of it. It was trying, after +"dropping in" and "taking luncheon" like a grown-up gentleman, to be +fetched home as a lost child. + +"What could make you run away like this, Regie?" said my poor +bewildered parent. "Mrs. Bundle is nearly mad with fright. It was very +naughty of you. What were you thinking of?" + +"I thought I would drop in," I explained. And in the pause resulting +from my father's astonishment at my absurd and old-fashioned +demeanour, I proceeded with Nurse Bundle's definition as well as I +could recollect it in my confusion, and speak it for impending tears. +"So I came, and Rubens came, and Mr. Andrewes was in the garden, and +we sat down, to change the weather, and pass time like, and Mr. +Andrewes was in the garden, and he gave me some flowers, and Mr. +Andrewes asked me in, and I came in, and he gave me some luncheon and +he asked Rubens to have some bones, and--" + +"'Change the weather and pass time like,'" muttered my father. +"Servants' language! oh, dear!" + +In my vexation with things in general, and with the strong feeling +within me that I was in the wrong, I seized upon the first grievance +that occurred to me as an excuse for fretfulness, and once more quoted +Nurse Bundle. + +"It's so very quiet at home," I whimpered, with tears in my eyes, +which had really no sort of connection with the dulness of the Hall, +or with anything whatever but offended pride and vexation on my part. + +Ah! How many a stab one gives in childhood to one's parents' tenderest +feelings! I did not mean to be ungrateful, and I had no measure of the +pain my father felt at this hint of the insufficiency of all he did +for my comfort and pleasure at home. Mr. Andrewes knew better, and +said, hastily, + +"Just the love of novelty, Mr. Dacre. We have been children +ourselves." + +My father sighed, and sitting down, drew me towards him with one hand, +stroking Rubens with the other, in acknowledgment of his greeting and +wagging tail. Then I saw that he was hurt. Indeed, I fancied tears +were in his eyes as he said, + +"So poor Papa and home are too dull--too quiet, eh, Regie? And yet +Papa does all he can for his boy." + +My fit of ill-temper was gone in a moment, and I flung my arms round +my father's neck--Rubens taking flying leaps to join in the embrace, +after a fashion common with dogs, and decidedly dangerous to eyes, +nose, and ears. And as I kissed my father, and was kissed by Rubens, +I gave a candid account of my expedition. "No, dear papa. It wasn't +that. Only Nurse said country places were quiet, and in towns people +dropped in, and passed time, and changed the weather, and if she was +in Oakford she would drop in and see her sister. And so I said it +would be very nice. And so I thought this morning that Rubens and I +would drop in and see Mr. Andrewes. And so we did; and we didn't tell +because we wanted to come alone, for fun." + +With this explanation the fullest harmony was restored; and my father +sat down whilst Mr. Andrewes and I finished our luncheon and Rubens +had his. I gave an account of the garden in terms glowing enough to +satisfy the pride of the warmest horticulturist, and my father +promised a new rake, and drank a glass of sherry to the success of my +"gardening without a gardener." + +But as we were going away I overheard him saying to Mr. Andrewes, + +"All the same, a boy can't be with a nurse for ever. She has every +good quality, except good English. And he is not a baby now. One +forgets how time passes. I must see about a tutor." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +NURSE BUNDLE IS MAGNANIMOUS--MR. GRAY--AN EXPLANATION WITH MY FATHER + + +Naturally enough, I did my best to give Nurse Bundle a faithful +account of my attempt to realize her idea of "dropping in," with all +that came of it. My garden projects, the arrival of my father, and all +that he said and did on the occasion. From my childish and confused +account, I fancy that Nurse Bundle made out pretty correctly the state +of the case. Being a "grown-up person," she probably guessed, without +difficulty, the meaning of my father's concluding remarks. I think a +good, faithful, tender-hearted nurse, such as she was, must suffer +with some of a mother's feelings, when it is first decided that "her +boy" is beyond petticoat government. Nurse Bundle cried so bitterly +over this matter, that my most chivalrous feelings were roused, and I +vowed that "Papa shouldn't say things to vex my dear Nursey." But Mrs. +Bundle was very loyal. + +"My dear," said she, wiping her eyes with her apron, "depend upon it, +whatever your papa settles on is right. He knows what's suitable for a +young gentleman; and it's only likely as a young gentleman born and +bred should outgrow to be beyond what an old woman like me can do for +him. Though there's no tutors nor none of them will ever love you +better than poor Nurse Bundle, my deary. And there's no one ever has +loved you better, my dear, nor ever will--always excepting your dear +mamma, dead and gone." + +All this stirred my feelings to the uttermost, and I wept too, and +vowed unconquerable fidelity to Nurse Bundle, and (despite her +remonstrances) unconquerable aversion from the tutor that was to be. I +furthermore renewed my proposals of marriage to Mrs. Bundle,--the +wedding to take place "when I should be old enough." + +This set her off into fits of laughing; and having regained her good +spirits, she declared that "she wouldn't have, no, not a young squire +himself, unless he were eddicated accordingly;" and this, it was +evident could only be brought about through the good offices of a +tutor. And to the prospective tutor (though he was to be her rival) +she was magnanimously favourable, whilst I, for my part, warmly +opposed the very thought of him. But neither her magnanimity nor my +unreasonable objections were put to the test just then. + +Several days had passed since I and Rubens "dropped in" at the +Rectory, and I was one morning labouring diligently at my garden, when +I saw Mr. Andrewes, in his canonical coat and shoes, coming along the +drive, carrying something in his hand which puzzled me. As he came +nearer, however, I perceived that it was a small wheelbarrow, gaily +painted red within and green without. At a respectful distance behind +him walked Jones, carrying a garden-basket full of plants on his head. + +Both the wheelbarrow and the plants were for me--a present from the +good-natured parson. He was helping me to plant the flower-roots, and +giving me a lecture on the sparing use of the wheelbarrow, when my +father joined us, and I heard him say to Mr. Andrewes, "I should like +a word with you, when you are at liberty." + +I do not know what made me think that they were talking about me. I +did, however, and watched them anxiously, as they passed up and down +the drive in close consultation. At last I heard Mr. Andrewes say-- + +"The afternoon would suit me best; say an hour after luncheon." + +This remark closed the conversation, and they came back to me. But I +had overheard another sentence from Mr. Andrewes' lips, which filled +me with disquiet, + +"I know of one that will just suit you; a capital little fellow." + +So the tutor was actually decided upon. "'A capital little fellow.' +That means a nasty fussy little man!" I cried to myself. "I hate him!" + +For the rest of that day, and all the next, I worried myself with +thoughts of the new tutor. On the following morning, I was standing +near one of the lodges with my father, looking at some silver +pheasants, when Mr. Andrewes rode by, and called to my father. + +Now, living as I did, chiefly with servants, and spending much more of +my leisure than was at all desirable between the stables and the +housekeeper's room, my sense of honour on certain subjects was not +quite so delicate as it ought to have been. With all their many +merits, uneducated people and servants have not--as a class--strict +ideas on absolute truthfulness and honourable trustworthiness in all +matters. A large part of the plans, hopes, fears, and quarrels of +uneducated people are founded on what has been overheard by folk who +were not intended to hear it, and on what has been told again by those +to whom a matter was told in confidence. Nothing is a surer mark of +good breeding and careful "upbringing" (as the Scotch call it) than +delicacy on those little points which are trusted to one's honour. But +refinement in such matters is easily blunted if one lives much with +people who think any little meanness fair that is not found out. I +really saw no harm in trying to overhear all that I could of the +conversation between my father and Mr. Andrewes, though I was aware, +from their manner, that I was not meant to hear it. I lingered near my +father, therefore, and pretended to be watching the pheasants, for a +certain instinct made me feel that I should not like my father to see +me listening. He was one of those highly, scrupulously honourable +gentlemen, before whose face it was impossible to do or say anything +unworthy or mean. + +He spoke in low tones, so that I lost most of what he said; but the +parson's voice was a peculiarly clear one, and though he lowered it, I +heard a good deal. + +"I saw him yesterday," was Mr. Andrewes' first remark. + +("That's the tutor," thought I.) + +My father's answer I lost; but I caught fragments of Mr. Andrewes' +next remarks, which were full of information on this important matter. + +"Quite young, good-tempered--little boy so fond of him, nothing would +have induced them to part with him; but they were going abroad." + +Which sounded well; but I suspected the parson of a good deal of +officious advice in a long sentence, of which I only caught the words, +"Can't begin too early." + +I felt convinced, too, that I heard something about the "use of the +whip," which put me into a fever of indignation. Just as Mr. Andrewes +was riding off, my father asked some question, to which the reply +was--"Gray." + +My head was so full of the tutor that I could not enjoy the stroll +with my father as usual, and was not sorry to get back to Nurse +Bundle, to whom I confided all that I had heard about my future +teacher. + +"He's a nasty little man," said I, "not a nice tall gentleman like +Papa or Mr. Andrewes. And Mr. Andrewes saw him yesterday. And Mr. +Andrewes says he's young. And he says he's good-natured; but then what +makes him use whips? And his name is Mr. Gray. And he says the other +little boy was very fond of him, but I don't believe it," I continued, +breaking down at this point into tears, "and they've gone abroad +(sobs) and I wish--boohoo! boohoo--they'd taken _him_!" + +With some trouble Nurse Bundle found out the meaning of my rather +obscure speech. Her wrath at the thought of a whip in connection with +her darling was quite as great as my own. But she persisted in taking +a hopeful view of Mr. Gray, and trusting loyally to my father's +judgment, and she succeeded in softening my grief for the time. + +When I came down to dessert that evening I pretended to be quite happy +and comfortable, and to have nothing on my mind. But happily few +children are clever at pretending what is not true, and as I was +constantly thinking about "that dreadful tutor," and puzzling over the +scraps of conversation I had heard to see if anything more could be +made out of them, my father soon found out that something was amiss. + +"What is the matter, Regie?" he asked. + +"Nothing, Father," I replied, with a very poor imitation of +cheerfulness and no approach to truth. + +"My dear boy," said my father, frowning slightly (a thing I always +dreaded), "do not say what is untrue, for any reason. If you do not +want to tell me what troubles you, say, 'I'd rather not tell you, +please,' like a man, and I will not persecute you about it. But don't +say there is nothing the matter when your little head is quite full of +something that bothers you very much. As I said, I will not press you, +but as I love you, and wish to help you in every way I can, I think +you had better tell me." + +Now, though I had really not thought I was doing wrong in listening to +the conversation I was not meant to hear, a _something_ which one +calls conscience made me feel ashamed of the whole matter. I had a +feeling of being in the wrong, which is apt to make one vexed and +fretful, and it was this, quite as much as fear of my grave father, +which made the colour rush to my face, and the tears into my eyes. + +"Come, Regie," he said, "out with it. Don't cry, whatever you do; +that's like a baby. Have you been doing something wrong? Tell me all +about it. Confession is half way to forgiveness. Don't be afraid of +me. For heaven's sake, don't be afraid of me!" added my father, with +impatient sadness, and the frown deepening so rapidly on his face that +my tears flowed in proportion. + +(How sad are the helpless struggles of a widowed father with young +children, I could not then appreciate. How seldom successful is the +alternative of a second marriage, has become proverbial in excess of +the truth.) + +My father was more patient than many men. He did not dismiss me and my +tears to the nursery in despair. With the insight and tenderness of a +mother he restrained himself, and unknitting his brows, held out both +his hands and said very kindly, + +"Come and tell poor Papa all about it, my darling." + +On which I jumped from my chair, and rushing up to him, threw my arms +about his neck and sobbed out, "Oh, Papa! Papa! I don't want him." + +"Don't want _whom_, my boy?" + +"M-m-m-m-r. Gray," I sobbed. + +"And who on earth is Mr. Gray, Regie?" inquired my perplexed parent. + +"The tutor--the new tutor," I explained. + +"But _whose_ new tutor?" cried the distracted gentleman, whose +confusion seemed in no way lessened when I added, + +"Mine, Papa; the one you're going to get for me." And as no gleam of +intelligence yet brightened his puzzled face, I added, doubtfully, +"You are going to get one, aren't you, Papa?" + +"What put this idea into your head, Regie?" asked my father, after a +pause. + +And then I had to explain, feeling very uncomfortable as I did so, how +I had overheard a few words at the Rectory, and a few words more at +the lodge, and how I had patched my hearsays together and made out +that a certain little man was coming to be my tutor, who had +previously been tutor somewhere else, and that his name was Gray. And +all this time my father did not help me out a bit by word or sign. By +the time I had got to the end of my story of what I had heard, and +what I had guessed, and what Nurse Bundle and I had made out, I did +not need any one to tell me that to listen to what one is not intended +to hear is a thing to be ashamed of. My cheeks and ears were very red, +and I felt very small indeed. + +"Now, Regie," said my father, "I won't say what I think about your +listening to Mr. Andrewes and me, in order to find out what I did not +choose to tell you. You shall tell me what you think, my boy. Do you +think it is a nice thing, a gentlemanly thing, upright, and honest, +and worthy of Papa's only son, to sneak about listening to what you +were not meant to hear. Now don't begin to cry, Reginald," he added, +rather sharply; "you have nothing to cry for, and it's either silly or +ill-tempered to whimper because I show you that you've done wrong. +Anybody may do wrong; and if you think that you have, why say you're +sorry, like a man, and don't do so any more." + +I made a strong effort to restrain my tears of shame and vexation, and +said very heartily-- + +"I'm very sorry, Papa. I didn't think of it's being wrong." + +"I quite believe that, my boy. But you see that it's not right now, +don't you?" + +"Oh yes!" I exclaimed, "and I won't listen any more, father." We made +it up lovingly, Rubens flying frantically at our heads to join in the +kisses and reconciliation. He had been anxiously watching us, being +well aware that something was amiss. + +"I don't mean to tell you what Mr. Andrewes and I _were_ talking +about," said my father, "because I did not wish you to hear. But I +will tell you that you made a very bad guess at the secret. We were +not talking of a tutor, or dreaming of one, and you have vexed +yourself for nothing. However, I think it serves you right for +listening. But we won't talk of that any more." + +I do not think Nurse Bundle was disposed to blame me as much as I now +blamed myself; but she was invariably loyal to my father's decisions, +and never magnified her own indulgence in the nursery by pitying me if +I got into scrapes in the drawing-room. + +"My dear," said she, "your Pa's a gentleman, every inch of him. You +listen to him, and try and do as he does, and you'll grow up just such +another, and be a pride and blessing to all about you." + +But we both rejoiced that at any rate our fears were unfounded in +reference to the much-dreaded Mr. Gray. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE REAL MR. GRAY--NURSE BUNDLE REGARDS HIM WITH DISFAVOUR + + +My feelings may therefore be "better imagined than described" when, at +about ten o'clock the following morning, my father called me +downstairs, and said, with an odd expression on his face, + +"Regie, Mr. Gray has come." + +Not for one instant did I in my mind accuse my father of deceiving me. +My faith in him was as implicit as he well deserved that it should be. +Black might be white, two and two might make five, impossible things +might be possible, but my father could not be in the wrong. It was +evident that I must have misunderstood him last night. I looked very +crestfallen indeed. + +My father, however, seemed particularly cheerful, even inclined to +laugh, I thought. He took my hand and we went to the front door, my +heart beating wildly, for I was a delicate unrobust lad yet, far too +easily upset and excited. More like a girl, in fact, if the comparison +be not an insult to such sturdy maids as Cousin Polly. + +Outside we found a man-servant on a bay horse, holding a little white +pony, on which, I supposed, the little tutor had been riding. But he +himself was not to be seen. I tried hard to be manly and calm, and +being much struck by the appearance of the pony, who, when I came down +the steps, had turned towards me the gentlest and most intelligent of +faces, with a splendid long curly white forelock streaming down +between his kind dark eyes, I asked-- + +"Is that Mr. Gray's pony, father?" + +"What do you think of it?" said my father. + +"Oh, it's a little dear," was my emphatic answer, and as the pony +unmistakably turned his head to me, I met his friendly advances by +going up to him, and in another moment my arms were round his neck, +and he was rubbing his soft, strong nose against my shoulder, and we +were kissing and fondling each other in happy forgetfulness of +everything but our sudden friendship, whilst the man-servant +(apparently an Irishman) was firing off ejaculations like crackers on +the fifth of November. + +"Sure, now, did ever anyone see the like--just to look at the +baste--sure he knows it's the young squire himself entirely. Och, but +the young gintleman's as well acquainted with horses as myself--sure +he'd make friends with a unicorn, if there was such an animal; and +it's the unicorn that would be proud to let him, too!" + +"It has been used to boys, I think?" said my father. + +"Ye may say that, yer honour. It likes boys better than man, woman, or +child, and it's not every baste ye can say that for." + +"A good many beasts have reason to think very differently, I fear," +said my father. + +"And _that's_ as true a word as your honour ever spoke," assented the +groom. + +Meanwhile a possible ground of consolation was beginning to suggest +itself to my mind. + +"Will Mr. Gray keep his pony here?" I asked, + +"The pony will live here," said my father. + +"Oh, do you think," I asked, "do you think, that if I am very good, +and do my lessons well, Mr. Gray will sometimes let me ride him? He +_is_ such a darling!" By which I meant the pony, and not Mr. Gray. My +father laughed, and put his hand on my shoulders. + +"I have only been teasing you, Regie," he said. "You know I told you +there was no tutor in the case. Mr. Andrewes and I were talking about +this pony, and when Mr. Andrewes said _grey_, he spoke of the colour +of the pony, and not of anybody's name." + +"Then is the pony yours?" I asked. + +My father looked at my eager face with a pleased smile. + +"No, my boy," he said, "he is yours." + +The wild delight with which I received this announcement, the way I +jumped and danced, and that Rubens jumped and danced with me, my +gratitude and my father's satisfaction, the renewed amenities between +myself and my pony, his obvious knowledge of the fact that I was his +master, and the running commentary of the Irishman, I will not attempt +to describe. + +The purchase of this pony was indeed one of my father's many kind +thoughts for my welfare and amusement. My odd pilgrimage to the +Rectory in search of change and society, and the pettish complaints of +dulness and monotony at home which I had urged to account for my freak +of "dropping in," had seemed to him not without a certain serious +foundation. Except for walks about the farm with him, and stolen +snatches of intercourse with the grooms, and dogs, and horses in the +stables (which both he and Nurse Bundle discouraged), I had little or +no amusement proper to a boy of my age. I was very well content to sit +with Rubens at Mrs. Bundle's apron-string, but now and then I was, to +use an expressive word, _moped_. My father had taken counsel with Mr. +Andrewes, and the end of it all was that I found myself the master of +the most charming of ponies, with the exciting prospect before me of +learning to ride. The very thought of it invigorated me. Before the +Irish groom went away I had asked if my new steed "could jump." I +questioned my father's men as to the earliest age at which young +gentlemen had ever been allowed to go out hunting, within their +knowledge. I went to bed to dream of rides as wild as Mazeppa's, of +hairbreadth escapes, and of feats of horsemanship that would have +amazed Mr. Astley. And hopes and schemes so wild that I dared not +bring them to the test of my father's ridicule, I poured with pride +into Nurse Bundle's sympathetic ear. + +Dear, good, kind Nurse Bundle! She was indeed a mother to me, and a +mother's anxieties and disappointments were her portion. The effect of +her watchful constant care of my early years for me, was whatever good +there was about me in health or manners. The effect of it for her was, +I believe, that she was never thoroughly happy when I was out of her +sight. In these circumstances, it seemed hard that when most of my +infantile diseases were over, when I was just becoming very +intelligent (the best company possible, Mrs. Bundle declared), when I +wore my clothes out reasonably, and had exchanged the cries which +exercise one's lungs in infancy for rational conversation by the +nursery fireside, I should be drawn away from nurse and nursery almost +entirely. It was right and natural, but it was hard. Nurse Bundle felt +it so, but she never complained. When she felt it most, she only said, +"It's all just as it should be." And so it was. Boys and ducklings +must wander off some time, be mothers and hens never so kind! The +world is wide, and duck-ponds are deep. The young ones must go alone, +and those who tremble most for their safety cannot follow to take care +of them. + +I really shrink from realizing to myself what Nurse Bundle must have +suffered whilst I was learning to ride. The novel exercise, the +stimulus of risk, that "put new life into me," were to her so many +daily grounds for the sad probability of my death. + +"Every blessed afternoon do I look to see him brought home on a +shutter, with his precious neck broken, poor lamb!" she exclaimed one +afternoon, overpowered by the sight of me climbing on to the pony's +back, which performance I had brought her downstairs to witness, and +endeavoured to render more entertaining and creditable by secretly +stimulating the pony to restlessness, and then hopping after him with +one foot in the stirrup, in what I fancied to be a very knowing +manner. + +"Why, my dear Mrs. Bundle," said my father, smiling, "you kill him at +least three hundred and sixty-four times oftener in the course of the +year than you need. If he does break his neck, he can only do it once, +and you bewail his loss every day." + +"Now, Heaven bless the young gentleman, sir, and meaning no +disrespect, but don't ye go for to tempt Providence by joking about +it, and him perhaps brought a hopeless corpse to the side door this +very evening," said Mrs. Bundle, her red cheeks absolutely blanched by +the vision she had conjured up. Why, I cannot say, but she had fully +made up her mind that when I was brought home dead, as she believed +that, sooner or later, I was pretty sure to be, I should be brought to +the side-door. Now "the side-door," as it was called, was a little +door leading into the garden, and less used, perhaps, than any other +door in the house. Mrs. Bundle, I believe, had decided that in that +tragedy which she was constantly rehearsing, the men who should find +my body would avoid the front-door, to spare my father the sudden +shock of meeting my corpse. The side-door, too, was just below the +nursery windows. Mrs. Bundle herself, would, probably, be the first to +hear any knocking at it, and she naturally pictured herself as taking +a prominent part in the terrible scene she so often fancied. It was +perhaps a good thing, on the whole, that she chose this door in +preference to those in constant use, otherwise every ring or knock at +the front or back door must have added greatly to her anxieties. + +I fear I did not do much to relieve them. I rather aggravated them. +Partly I believe in the conceit of showing off my own skill and +daring, and partly by way of "hardening" Mrs. Bundle's nerves. When +more knowledge, or longer custom, or stronger health or nerves, have +placed us beyond certain terrors which afflict other people, we are +apt to fancy that, by insisting upon their submitting to what we do +not mind, our nervous friends can or ought to be forced into the +unconcern which we feel ourselves; which is, perhaps, a little too +like dosing the patient with what happens to agree with the doctor. + +Thus I fondled my pony's head and dawdled ostentatiously at his heels +when Nurse Bundle was most full of fears of his biting or kicking. But +I feel sure that this, and the tricks I played to show the firmness of +my "seat," only made it seem to her the more certain that, from my +recklessness, I must some day be bitten, kicked, or thrown. + +I had several falls, and one or two narrow escapes from more serious +accidents, which, for the moment, made my father as white as Mrs. +Bundle. But he was wise enough to know that the present risks I ran +from fearlessness were nothing to the future risks against which +complete confidence on horseback would ensure me. And so with the +ordinary mishaps, and with days and hours of unspeakable and healthy +happiness, I learnt to ride well and to know horses. And poor Mrs. +Bundle, sitting safely at home in her rocking-chair, endured all the +fears from which I was free. + +"Now look, my deary," said she one day; "don't you go turning your +sweet face round to look up at the nursery windows when you're a +riding off. I can see your curls, bless them! and that's enough for +me. Keep yourself still, love, and look where you're a going, for in +all reason you've plenty to do with that. And don't you go a waving +your precious hand, for it gives me such a turn to think you've let +go, and have only got one hand to hold on with, and just turning the +corner too, and the pony a shaking its tail, and shifting about with +its back legs, till how you don't slip off on one side passes me +altogether." + +"Why, you don't think I hold on by my hands, do you?" I cried. + +"And what should you hold on with?" said Mrs. Bundle. "Many's the +light cart I've rode in, but never let go my hold, unless with one +hand, to save a bag or a bandbox. And though it's jolting, I'm sure a +light cart's nothing to pony-back for starts and unexpectedness." + +I tried in vain to make Nurse Bundle like my pony. + +"I've seen plenty of ponies!" she said, severely; by which she meant +not that she had seen many, but that what she had seen of them had +been more than enough. "My brother-in-law's first cousin had one--a +little red-haired beast--as vicious as any wild cat. It won a many +races, but it was the death of him at last, according to the +expectations of everybody. He was brought home on a shutter to his +family, and the pony grazing close by in the ditch as if nothing had +happened. Many's the time I've seen him on it expecting death as +little as yourself, and he refused twenty pound for it the Tuesday +fortnight before he was killed. But I was with his wife that's now his +widow when the body was brought." + +By the time that I heard this anecdote I was happily too good a rider +to be frightened by it; but I did wish that Mrs. Bundle's relative had +died any other death than that which formed so melancholy a precedent +in her mind. + +The strongest obstacle, however, to any chance of my nurse's looking +with favour on my new pet was her profound ignorance of horses and +ponies in general. Except as to colour or length of tail, she +recognized no difference between one and another. As to any +distinctions between "play" and "vice," a fidgety animal and a +determined kicker, a friendly nose-rub and a malicious resolve to +bite, they were not discernible by Mrs. Bundle's unaccustomed eyes. + +"I've seen plenty of ponies," she would repeat; "I know what they are, +my dear," and she invariably followed up this statement by rehearsing +the fate of her brother-in-law's cousin, sometimes adding-- + +"He was very much giving to racing, and being about horses. He was a +little man, and suffered a deal from the quinsies in the autumn." + +"What a pity he didn't die of a quinsy instead of breaking his neck!" +I felt compelled to say one day. + +"He might have lived to have done that if it hadn't a been for the +pony," said Mrs. Bundle emphatically. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +I FAIL TO TEACH LATIN TO MRS. BUNDLE--THE RECTOR TEACHES ME + + +I was soon to discover the whole of my father's plans with Mr. +Andrewes for my benefit. Not only had they decided that I was to have +a pony, and learn to ride, but it was also settled that I was to go +daily to the Rectory to "do lessons" with the Rector. + +I was greatly pleased. I had already begun Latin with my father, and +had vainly endeavoured to share my educational advantages with Mrs. +Bundle, by teaching her the first declension. + +"Musa, amuse," she repeated after me on this occasion. + +"Musae, of a muse," I continued. + +"_Of amuse!_ There's no sense in that, my dearie," said Mrs. Bundle; +and as my ideas were not very well defined on the subject of the +muses, and as Mrs. Bundle's were even less so as to genders, numbers, +and cases, I reluctantly gave in to her decision that "Latin was very +well for young gentlemen, but good plain English was best suited to +the likes of her." + +She was greatly delighted, however, with a Latin valentine which I +prepared for her on the ensuing 14th of February, and caused to be +delivered by the housemaid, in an envelope with an old stamp, and +postmarks made with a pen and a penny. The design was very simple; a +heart traced in outline from a peppermint lozenge of that shape, which +came to me in an ounce of "mixed sweets" from the village shop. The +said heart was painted red and below it I wrote in my largest and +clearest handwriting, _Mrs. B. Amo te_. When the Latin was translated +for her, her gratification was great. At first she was put out by +there being only two Latin words to three English ones, but she got +over the difficulty at last by always reading it thus:-- + + "A mo te, + I love thee." + +My Latin had not advanced much beyond this stage when I began to go to +Mr. Andrewes every day. + +Thenceforward I progressed rapidly in my learning. Mr. Andrewes was a +good scholar, and (quite another matter) a good teacher; and I fancy +that I was not wanting in quickness or in willingness to work. But +Latin, and arithmetic, and geography, and the marvellous improvement +he soon made in my handwriting, were small parts indeed of all that I +owe to that good friend of my childhood. I suppose that--other things +being equal--children learn most from those who love them best, and I +soon found out that I was the object of a strangely strong affection +in my new teacher. The chief cause of this I did not then know, and +only learnt when death had put an end, for this life, to our happy +intercourse. But I had a child's complacent appreciation of the fact +that I was a favourite, and on the strength of it I haunted the +Rectory at all hours, confident of a welcome. I turned over the +Rector's books, and culled his flowers, and joined his rides, and made +him tell me stories, and tyrannized over him as over a docile +playfellow in a fashion that astonished many grown-up people who were +awed and repelled by his reserve and eccentricities, and who never +knew his character as I knew it till he could be known no more. But I +fancy that there are not a few worthy men who, shy and reserved, are +only intimately known by the children whom they love. + +I may say that not only did I owe much more than mere learning to Mr. +Andrewes, but that my regular lessons were a small part even of his +teaching. + +"It always seems to me," he said one day, when my father and I were +together at the Rectory, "that there are two kinds of learning more +neglected than they should be in the education of the young. Religious +knowledge, which, after all, concerns the worthiest part of every man, +and the longest share of his existence (to say nothing of what it has +to do with matters now); and the knowledge of what we call Nature, and +of all the laws which concern our bodies, and rule the conditions of +life in this world. It's a hobby of mine, Mr. Dacre, and I'm afraid I +ride my hobbies rather like a witch on a broomstick. But a man must +deal according to his lights and his conscience; and if I am intrusted +with the lad's education for a while, it will be my duty and pleasure +to instruct him in religious lore and natural science, so far as his +age allows. To teach him to know his Bible (and I wish all who have +the leisure were taught to read the Scriptures in the original +tongues). To teach him to know his Prayer-book, and its history. +Something, too, of the history of his Church, and of the faith in +which better men than us have been proud to live, and for which some +have even dared to die." + +When the Rector became warm in conversation, his voice betrayed a +rougher accent than we commonly heard, and the more excited he became +the broader was his speech. It had got very broad at this point, when +my father broke in. "I trust him entirely to you, sir," he said; "but, +pardon me, I confess I am not fond of religious prodigies--children +who quote texts and teach their elders their duty; and Reginald has +quite sufficient tendency towards over-excitement of brain on all +subjects." + +"I quite agree with you," said Mr. Andrewes. "I think you may trust +me. I know well that childhood, like all states and times of +ignorance, is so liable to conceit and egotism, that to foster +religious self-importance is only too easy, and modesty and moderation +are more slowly taught. But if youth is a time when one is specially +apt to be self-conceited, surely, Mr. Dacre, it is also the first, the +easiest, the purest, and the most zealous in which to learn what is so +seldom learned in good time." + +"I dare say you are right," said my father. + +"People talk with horror of attacks on the faith as sadly +characteristic of our age," said the Rector, walking up and down the +study, and seemingly forgetful of my presence, if not of my father's, +"(which, by-the-bye, is said of every age in turn), but I fear the +real evil is that so few have any fixed faith to be attacked. It is +the old, old story. From within, not from without. The armour that was +early put on, that has grown with our growth, that has been a strength +in time of trial, and a support in sorrow, and has given grace to +joy, will not quickly be discarded because the journals say it is +old-fashioned and worn-out. Life is too short for every man to prove +his faith theoretically, but it is given to all to prove its practical +value by experience, and that method of proof cannot be begun too +soon." + +"Very true," said my father. + +"I don't know why a man's religious belief (which is of course the +ground of his religious life) should be supposed to come to him +without the trouble of learning, any more than any other body of +truths and principles on which people act," Mr. Andrewes went on. "And +yet what religious instruction do young people of the educated classes +receive as a rule?--especially the boys, for girls get hold of books, +and pick up a faith somehow, though often only enough to make them +miserable and 'unsettled,' and no more. I often wonder," he added, +sitting down at the table with a laugh, "whether the mass of educated +men know less of what concerns the welfare of their souls, and all +therewith connected, or the mass of educated women of what concerns +their bodies, and all _therewith_ connected. I feel sure that both +ignorances produce untold and dire evil!" + +"So theology and natural science are to be Regie's first lessons?" +said my father, drawing me to him. + +"I've been talking on stilts, I know," said Mr. Andrewes, smiling. +"We'll use simpler terms,--duty to GOD, and duty to Man. One can't do +either without learning how, Mr. Dacre." + +I repeat this conversation as I have heard it from my father, since I +grew up and could understand it. Mr. Andrewes' educational theories +were duly put in practice for my benefit. In his efforts for my +religious education, Nurse Bundle proved an unexpected ally. When I +repeated to her some solemn truth which in his reverent and simple +manner he had explained to me; some tale he had told me of some good +man, whose example was to be followed; some bit of quaint practical +advice he had given me, or perhaps some hymn I had learned by his +side, the delight of the good old soul knew no bounds. She said it was +as good as a sermon; and as she was particularly fond of sermons, this +was a compliment. She used to beg me carefully to remember anything of +the kind that I heard, and when I repeated it, she had generally her +own word of advice to add, and wonderful tales with which to point the +moral,--tales of happy and unhappy deathbeds, of warnings, judgments, +and answers to prayer. Tales, too, of the charities of the poor, the +happiness of the afflicted, and the triumphs of the deeply tempted, +such as it is good for the wealthy, and healthy, and well-cared-for, +to listen to. Nurse Bundle's religious faith had a tinge of +superstition; that of Mr. Andrewes was more enlightened. But with both +it was a matter of every-day life, from which no hope or fear, no +sorrow or joy, no plan, no word or deed, could be separated. + +And however imperfectly, so it became with me. Like most children, I +had my own rather vivid idea of the day of judgment. The thought of +death was familiar to me. (It is seldom, I think, a painful one in +childhood.) I fully realized the couplet which concluded a certain +quaint old rhyme in honour of the four Evangelists which Nurse Bundle +had taught me to repeat in bed-- + + "If I die before I wake, + I pray the Lord my soul to take." + +I used to recite a similar one when I was dressed in the morning-- + + "If my soul depart to-day, + A place in Paradise I pray." + +When I had had a particularly pleasant ride, or enjoyed myself much +during the day, I thanked GOD specially in my evening prayers. I +remember that whatever I wished for I prayed for, in the complete +belief that this was the readiest way to obtain it. And it would be +untruth to my childish experience not to add that I never remember to +have prayed in vain. I also picked up certain little quaint +superstitions from Nurse Bundle, some of which cling to me still. +Neither she nor I ever put anything on the top of a Bible, and we +sometimes sat long in comical and uncomfortable silence because +neither of us would "scare the angel that was passing over the house." +When the first notes of the organ stirred the swallows in the church +eaves to chirp aloud, I believed with Mrs. Bundle that they were +joining in the Te Deum. And when sunshine fell on me through the +church windows during service, I regarded it as "a blessing." + +The other half of Mr. Andrewes' plan was not neglected. From him I +learnt (and it is lore to be thankful for) to use my eyes. He was a +good botanist, and his knowledge of the medicinal uses of wild herbs +ranked next to his piety to raise him in Mrs. Bundle's esteem. When +"lessons" were over, we often rode out together. As we rode through +the lanes, he taught me to distinguish the notes of the birds, to +observe what crops grow on certain soils, and at what seasons the +different plants flower and bear fruit. He made me see with my own +eyes, and hear with my own ears, for which I shall ever be grateful +to him. I fancy I can hear his voice now, saying in his curt cutting +fashion-- + +"How silly it sounds to hear anybody with a head on his shoulders say, +'I never noticed it!' What are eyes for?" + +If I admired some creeper-covered cottage, picturesquely old and +tumble-down, he would ask me how many rooms I thought it contained--if +I fancied the roof would keep out rain or snow, and how far I supposed +it was convenient and comfortable for a man and his wife and six +children to live in. In some very practical problems which he once set +me, I had to suppose myself a labourer, with nine shillings a week, +and having found out what sum that would come to in half a year, to +write on my slate how I would spend the money, to the best advantage, +in clothing and feeding two grown-up people and seven children of +various ages. As I knew nothing of the cost of the necessaries of +life, I went, by Mr. Andrewes' advice, to Nurse Bundle for help. + +"What do beef and mutton cost?" was my first question, as I sat with +an important air at the nursery table, slate in hand. + +"Now bless the dear boy's innocence?" cried Mrs. Bundle. "You may +leave the beef and mutton, love. It's not much meat a family gets +that's reared on nine shillings a week." + +After a series of calculations for oatmeal-porridge, onion-potage, and +other modest dainties, during which Mrs. Bundle constantly fell back +on the "bits of things in the garden," I said decidedly-- + +"They can't have any clothes, so it's no good thinking about it." + +"Children can't be let go bare-backed," said Mrs. Bundle, with equal +decision. "She must take in washing. For in all reason, boots can't be +expected to come out of nine shillings a week, and as many mouths to +feed." + +"She must take in washing, sir," I announced with a resigned air, and +the old-fashioned gravity peculiar to me, when I returned to the +Rectory next day. "Boots can't come out of nine shillings a week." + +The Rector smiled. + +"And suppose one of the boys catches a fever, as you did; and they +can't have other people's clothes to the house, because of the +infection. And then there will be the doctor's bill to pay--what +then?" + +By this time I had so thoroughly realized the position of the needy +family, that I had forgotten it was not a real case, or rather, that +no special one was meant. And I begged, with tears in my eyes, that I +might apply the contents of my alms-box to paying the doctor's bill. + +Many a lesson like this, with oft-repeated practical remarks about +healthy situations, proper drainage, roomy cottages, and the like, was +engraven by constant repetition on my mind, and bore fruit in after +years, when the welfare of many labourers and their families was in my +hands. + +It is difficult to convey an idea of the learning I gained from my +good friend, and yet to show how free he was from priggishness, or +from always playing the schoolmaster. He was simply the most charming +of companions, who tried to raise me to his level, and interest me in +what he knew and thought himself, instead of coming down to me, and +talking the patronizing nonsense which is so often supposed to be +acceptable to children. + +Across all the years that have parted us in this life I fancy at times +that I see his grey eyes twinkling under their thick brows once more, +and hear his voice, with its slightly rough accent, saying-- + +"_Think_, my dear lad, _think_! Pray learn to think!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE ASTHMATIC OLD GENTLEMAN AND HIS RIDDLES--I PLAY TRUANT AGAIN--IN +THE BIG GARDEN + + +It was perhaps partly because, like most only children, I was +accustomed to be with grown-up people, that I liked the way in which +Mr. Andrewes treated me, and resented the very different style of +another friend of my father, who always bantered me in a playful, +nonsensical fashion, which he deemed suitable to my years. + +The friend in question was an old gentleman, and a very benevolent +one. I think he was fond of children, and I am sure he was kind. + +He never came without giving me half-a-guinea before he left, +generally slipping it down the back of my neck, or hiding it under my +plate at dinner, or burying it in an orange. He had a whole store of +funny tricks, which would have amused and pleased me if I might have +enjoyed them in peace. But he never ceased teasing me, and playing +practical jokes on me. And the worst of it was, he teased Rubens also. + +Mr. Andrewes often afterwards told of the day when I walked into the +Rectory--my indignant air, he vowed, faithfully copied by the dog at +my heels, and without preface began: + +"I know I ought to forgive them that trespass against us, but I +can't. He put cayenne pepper on to Rubens' nose." + +In justice to ourselves, I must say that neither Rubens nor I bore +malice on this point, but it added to the anxiety which I always felt +to get out of the old gentleman's way. + +By him I was put through those riddles which puzzle all childish +brains in turn: "If a herring and a half cost threehalfpence," etc. +And if I successfully accomplished this calculation, I was tripped up +by the unfair problem, "If your grate is of such and such dimensions, +what will the coals come to?" I can hear his voice now (hoarse from a +combination of asthma and snuff-taking) as he poked me jocosely but +unmercifully "under the fifth rib," as he called it, crying-- + +"_Ashes_! my little man. D'ye see? _Ashes_! _Ashes_!" + +After which he took more snuff, and nearly choked himself with +laughing at my chagrin. + +Greatly was Nurse Bundle puzzled that night, when I stood, ready for +bed, fumbling with both hands under my nightshirt, and an expression +of face becoming a surgeon conducting a capital operation. + +"Bless the dear boy!" she cried. "What are you doing to yourself, my +dear?" + +"How does he _know_ which is the fifth rib?" I almost howled in my +vexation. "I don't believe it _was_ the fifth rib! I wish I _hadn't_ a +fifth rib! I wish I might hurt _his_ fifth rib!" + +I think the old gentleman would have choked with laughter if he could +have seen and heard me. + +One day, to my father's horror, I candidly remarked, + +"It always makes me think of the first of April, sir, when you're +here." + +I did not mean to be rude. It was simply true that the succession of +"sells" and practical jokes of which Rubens and I were the victims +during his visits did recall the tricks supposed to be sacred to the +Festival of All Fools. + +To do the old gentleman justice, he heartily enjoyed the joke at his +own expense; laughed and took snuff in extra proportions, and gave me +a whole guinea instead of half a one, saying that I should go to live +with him in Fools' Paradise, where little pigs ran about ready roasted +with knives and forks in their backs; adding more banter and nonsense +of the same kind, to the utter bewilderment of my brain. + +He was the occasion of my playing truant to the Rectory a second time. +Once, when he was expected, I took my nightshirt from my pillow, and +followed by Rubens, presented myself before the Rector as he sat at +breakfast, saying, "Mr. Carpenter is coming, and we can't endure it. +We really can't endure it. And please, sir, can you give us a bed for +the night? And I'm very sorry it isn't a clean one, but Nurse keeps +the nightgowns on the top shelf, and I didn't want her to know we were +coming." + +Mr. Andrewes kept me with him for some hours, but he persuaded me to +return and meet the old gentleman, saying that it was only due to his +real kindness to bear with his little jokes; and that I ought to try +and learn to make allowances, and "put up with" things that were not +quite to my mind. So I went back, and partly because of my efforts to +be less easily annoyed, and partly because I was older than at his +latest visit, and knew all the riddles, and could see through his +jokes more quickly, I got on very well with him. + +Very glad I was afterwards that I had gone back and spent a friendly +evening with the kind old man; for the following spring his asthma +became worse and worse, and he died. That visit was his last to us. He +teased me and Rubens no more. But when I heard of his death, I felt +what I said, that I was very sorry. He had been very kind and his +pokes and jokes were trifles to look back upon. + +Mr. Andrewes kept up his interest in my garden. Indeed, I soon got +beyond the childish way of gardening; I ceased to use my watering-pot +recklessly, and to take up my plants to see how they were getting on. +I was promoted from my little beds to some share in the large +flower-garden. My father was very fond of his flowers, and greatly +pleased to find me useful. + +Some of the happiest hours I ever spent were those in which I worked +with him in "the big garden;" Rubens lying in the sun, keeping +imaginary guard over my father's coat. We had a friendly rivalry with +the Rectory, in which I felt the highest interest. Sometimes, however, +I helped Mr. Andrewes himself, when he rewarded me with plants and +good advice. The latter often in quaint rhymes, such as + + "This rule in gardening never forget, + To sow dry, and to set wet." + +But after a time, and to my deep regret, Mr. Andrewes gave up the care +of my education. He said his duties in the parish did not allow of his +giving much time to me; and though my father had no special wish to +press my studies, and was more anxious for the benefit of the +Rector's influence, Mr. Andrewes at last persuaded him that he ought +to get a resident tutor and prepare me for a public school. + +By this time I had almost forgotten my foolish prejudice against the +imaginary Mr. Gray, and was only sorry that I could no longer do +lessons with the Rector. + +I suppose it was in answer to some inquiries that he made that my +father heard of a gentleman who wanted such a situation as ours. He +heard of him from Leo Damer's guardian, and the gentleman proved to be +the very tutor whom I had seen from the nursery windows of Aunt +Maria's house. He had remained with Leo ever since, but as Leo's +guardian had now sent him to school, the tutor was at liberty. + +In these circumstances, I felt that he was not quite a stranger, and +was prepared to receive him favourably. + +Indeed, when his arrival was close at hand, Nurse Bundle and I took an +hospitable pleasure in looking over the arrangements of his room, and +planning little details for his comfort. + +He came at last, and my father was able to announce to Aunt Maria (who +had never approved of what she called "Mr. Andrewes' desultory style +of teaching") that my education was now placed in the hands of a +resident tutor. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE TUTOR--THE PARISH--A NEW CONTRIBUTOR TO THE ALMS-BOX + + +Mr. Clerke was a small, slight, fair man. He was short-sighted, which +caused him to carry a round piece of glass about the size of a penny +in his waistcoat pocket, and from time to time to stick this into his +eye, where he held it in a very ingenious, but, as it seemed to me, +dangerous fashion. + +It took me quite a fortnight to get used to that eye-glass. It was +like a policeman's bull's-eye lantern. I never knew when it might be +turned on me. Then the glass had no rim, the edges looked quite sharp, +and the reckless way in which the tutor held it squeezed between his +cheek and eyebrow was a thing to be at once feared and admired. + +I was sitting over my Delectus one morning, unwillingly working at a +page which had been set as a punishment for some offence, with my +hands buried in my pockets, fumbling with halfpence and other +treasures there concealed, when, seeing my tutor stick his glass into +his eye as he went to the bookcase, I pulled out a halfpenny to try if +I could hold it between cheek and brow, as he held his glass. After +many failures, I had just triumphantly succeeded when he caught sight +of my reflection in a mirror, and seeing the halfpenny in my eye, my +chin in air, and my face puckered up with what must have been a +comical travesty of his own appearance, he concluded that I was +mimicking him, and defying his authority, and coming quickly up to me +he gave me a sharp box on the ear. + +In the explanation which followed, he was candid enough to apologize +handsomely for having "lost his temper," as he said; and having +remitted my task as an atonement, took me out fishing with him. + +We got on very well together. At first I think my old-fashioned ways +puzzled him, and he was also disconcerted by the questions which I +asked when we were out together. Perhaps he understood me better when +he came to know Mr. Andrewes, and learned how much I had been with +him. + +He had a very high respect for the Rector. The first walk we took +together was to call at the Rectory. We stayed luncheon, and Mr. +Andrewes had some conversation with the tutor which I did not hear. As +we came home, I was anxious to learn if Mr. Clerke did not think my +dear friend "very nice." + +"Mr. Andrewes is a very remarkable man," said the tutor. And he +constantly repeated this. "He is a very remarkable man." + +After a while Mr. Clerke ceased to be put out by my asking strange +unchildish questions which he was not always able to answer. He often +said, "We will ask Mr. Andrewes what he thinks;" and for my own part, +I respected him none the less that he often honestly confessed that he +could not, off-hand, solve all the problems that exercised my brain. +He was not a good general naturalist but he was fond of geology, and +was kind enough to take me out with him on "chipping" expeditions, and +to start me with a "collection" of fossils. I had already a collection +of flowers, a collection of shells, a collection of wafers, and a +collection of seals. (People did not collect monograms and old stamps +in my young days.) These collections were a sore vexation to Nurse +Bundle. + +"Whatever a gentleman like the Rector is thinking of, for to encourage +you in such rubbish, my dear," said she, "it passes me! It's vexing +enough to see dirt and bits about that shouldn't be, when you can take +the dust-pan and clear 'em away. But to have dead leaves, and weeds, +and stones off the road brought in day after day, and not be allowed +so much as to touch them, and a young gentleman that has things worth +golden guineas to play with, storing up a lot of stuff you could pick +off any rubbish-heap in a field before it's burned--if it was anybody +but you, my dear, I couldn't abear it. And what's a tutor for, I +should like to know?" + +(Mrs. Bundle, who at no time liked blaming her darling, had now +acquired a habit of laying the blame of any misdoings of mine on the +tutor, on the ground that he "ought to have seen to" my acting +differently.) + +If Mr. Clerke discovered that he could confess to being puzzled by +some of my questions, without losing ground in his pupil's respect, I +soon found out that my grown-up tutor had not altogether outlived +boyish feelings. It dimly dawned on me that he liked a holiday quite +as well, if not better than myself; and as we grew more intimate we +had many a race and scramble and game together, when bookwork was over +for the day. He rode badly, but with courage, and the mishaps he +managed to suffer when riding the quietest and oldest of my father's +horses were food for fun with him as well as with me. + +He told me that he was going to be a clergyman, and on Sunday +afternoons we commonly engaged in strong religious discussions. During +the fruit season it was also our custom on that day to visit the +kitchen-garden after luncheon, where we ate gooseberries, and settled +our theological differences. There is a little low, hot stone seat by +one of the cucumber frames on which I never can seat myself now +without recollections of the flavour of the little round, hairy, red +gooseberries, and of a lengthy dispute which I held there with Mr. +Clerke, and which began by my saying that I looked forward to meeting +Rubens "in a better world." I distinctly remember that I could bring +forward so little authority for my belief, and the tutor so little +against it, that we adjourned by common consent to the Rectory to take +Mr. Andrewes' opinion, and taste his strawberries. + +I feel quite sure that Mr. Clerke, as well as myself, strongly felt +the Rector's influence. He often said in after-years how much he owed +to him for raising his aims and views about the sacred office which he +purposed to fill. He had looked forward to being a clergyman as to a +profession towards which his education and college career had tended, +and which, he hoped, would at last secure him a comfortable livelihood +through the interest of some of his patrons. But intercourse with the +Rector gave a higher tone to his ideas. He would have been a clergyman +of high character otherwise, but now he aimed at holiness; he would +never have been an idle one, but now his wish was to learn how much he +could do, and how well he could do that much for the people who should +be committed to his charge. He was by no means a reticent man, he +liked sympathy, and soon got into the habit of confiding in me for +want of a better friend. Thus as he began to take a most earnest +interest in parish work, and in schemes for the benefit of the people, +our Sunday conversations became less controversial, and we gossiped +about schools and school-treats, cricket-clubs, drunken fathers, +slattern mothers, and spoiled children, and how the evening hymn +"went" after the sermon on Sunday, like district visitors at a parish +tea-party. What visions of improvement amongst our fellow-creatures we +saw as we wandered about amongst the gooseberry-bushes, Rubens +following at my heels, and eating a double share from the lower +branches, since his mouth had not to be emptied for conversation! We +often got parted when either of us wandered off towards special and +favourite trees. Those bearing long, smooth green gooseberries like +grapes, or the highly-ripened yellows, or the hairy little reds. Then +we shouted bits of gossip, or happy ideas that struck us, to each +other across the garden. And full of youth and hopefulness, in the +sunshine of these summer Sundays, we gave ourselves credit for +clear-sightedness in all our opinions, and promised ourselves success +for every plan, and gratitude from all our proteges. + +Mr. Andrewes had started a Sunday School with great success (Sunday +Schools were novelties then), and Mr. Clerke was a teacher. At last, +to my great delight, I was allowed to take the youngest class, and to +teach them their letters and some of the Catechism. + +About this time I firmly resolved to be a parson when I grew up. My +great practical difficulty on this head was that I must, of course, +live at Dacrefield, and yet I could not be the Rector. My final +decision I announced to Mr. Andrewes. + +"Mr. Clerke and I will always be curates, and work under you." + +On which the tutor would sigh, and say, "I wish it could be so, Regie, +for I do not think I shall ever like any other place, or church, or +people so well again." + +At this time my alms-box was well filled, thanks to the liberality of +Mr. Clerke. He now taxed his small income as I taxed my pocket-money +(a very different matter!), and though I am sure he must sometimes +have been inconveniently poor, he never failed to put by his share of +our charitable store. + +Some brooding over the matter led me to say to him one Sunday, "You +and I, sir, are like the widow and the other people in the lesson +to-day: I put into the box out of my pocket-money, and you out of your +living." + +The tutor blushed painfully; partly, I think, at my accurate +comprehension of the difference between our worldly lots, and partly +in sheer modesty at my realizing the measure of his self-sacrifice. + +When first he began to contribute, he always kept back a certain sum, +which he as regularly sent away, to whom I never knew. He briefly +explained, "It is for a good object." But at last a day came when he +announced, "I no longer have that call upon me." And as at the same +time he put on a black tie, and looked grave for several days, I +judged that some poor relation, who was now dead, had been the object +of his kindness. He spoke once more on the subject, when he thanked me +for having led him to put by a fixed sum for such purposes, and added, +"The person to whom I have been accustomed to send that share of the +money said that it was worth double to have it regularly." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE TUTOR'S PROPOSAL--A TEACHERS' MEETING + + +I think it was Mr. Clerke who first suggested that we should take the +Sunday scholars and teachers for a holiday trip. Such things are +matters of course now in every parish, but in my childhood it was +considered a most marvellous idea by our rustic population. The tutor +had heard of some extraordinarily active parson who had done the like +by his schools, and partly from real kindness, and partly in the +spirit of emulation which intrudes even upon schemes of benevolence, +he was most anxious that we at Dacrefield should not "be behindhand" +in good works. Competition is a feeling with which children have great +sympathy, and I warmly echoed Mr. Clerke's resolve that we would not +"be behindhand." + +"Let us go to the Rectory at once," said I; "Mr. Andrewes said we +might have some of those big yellow raspberries, and we must ask him +about it. It's a splendid idea. But where shall we go?" + +The matter resolved itself into this question. The Rector was quite +willing for the treat. My father gave us a handsome subscription; the +farmers followed the Squire's lead. Mr. Andrewes was not behindhand. +The tutor and I considered the object a suitable one for aid from our +alms-box. There was no difficulty whatever. Only--where were we to +go? + +Finally, we all decided that we would go to Oakford. + +It was not because Oakford had been the end of our consultation long +ago, after my illness, nor because Nurse Bundle had any voice in the +matter, it was a certain bullet-headed, slow-tongued old farmer, one +of our teachers, who voted for our going to Oakford; and more by +persistently repeating his advice than by any very strong reasons +there seemed to be for our following it, he carried the day. + +"I've know'd Oakford, man and boy, for twenty year," he repeated, at +intervals of three minutes or so, during what would now be called a +"teachers' meeting" in the school-room. In fact, Oakford was his +native place, though he was passing his old age in Dacrefield, and he +had a natural desire to see it again, and a natural belief that the +spot where he had been young and strong, and light-hearted, had +especial merits of its own. + +Even though we had nothing better to propose, old Giles' love for home +would hardly have decided us, but he had something more to add. There +was a "gentleman's place" on the outskirts of Oakford, which +sometimes, in the absence of the family, was "shown" to the public: +old Giles had seen it as a boy, and the picture he drew of its glories +fairly carried us away, the Rector and tutor excepted. They shrugged +their shoulders with faces of comical despair as the old man, having +fairly taken the lead, babbled on about the "picters," the "stattys," +and the "yaller satin cheers" in the grand drawing-room; whilst the +other teachers listened with open mouths, and an evident and growing +desire to see Oakford Grange. I did not half believe in old Giles' +wonders, and yet I wished to see the place myself, if only to learn +how much of all he described to us was true. I supposed that "the +family" must have been at home when I was at Oakford, or Mr. and Mrs. +Buckle would surely have taken me to see the Grange. + +The Rector suggested that the family might be at home now, and we +might have our expedition for nothing; but it appeared that old Giles' +sister's grandson had been over to see his great-uncle only a +fortnight ago, "come Tuesday," and had distinctly stated that the +family "was in furrin' parts," and would be so for months to come. +Moreover, he had said that there was a rumour that the place was to be +sold, and nobody knew if the next owner would allow it to be "shown," +even in his absence. Thus it was evident that if we wanted to see the +Grange, it must be "now or never." + +On hearing this, our fattest and richest farmer (he took an upper +class in school more in deference to his position than to the rather +scanty education which accompanied it) rose and addressed the Rector +as follows:-- + +"Reverend sir. I takes the liberty of rising and addressin' of you, +with my respex to yourself and Mr. Clerke, and the young gentleman as +represents the Squire I've a-been tenant to, man and boy, this thirty +year and am proud to name it." (Murmurs of applause from one or two +other farmers present, my father being very popular.) + +"Reverend sir. I began with bird-scaring, and not a penny in my +pocket, that wouldn't have held coppers for holes, if I had, and +clothes that would have scared of themselves, letting alone clappers. +The Squire knows how much of his land I have under my hand now, and +your reverence is acquainted with the years I've been churchwarden. + +"Reverend Sir. I am proud to have rose by my own exertions. I never +iggerantly set _my_self against improvements and opportoonities." +(Gloom upon the face of the teacher of the fourth class, who objected +to machinery, and disbelieved in artificial manures.) "_My_ mottor 'as +allus been, 'Never lose a chance;' and that's what I ses on this +occasion; 'never lose a chance.'" + +As our churchwarden backed his advice by offering to lend waggons and +horses to take us to Oakford, if the other farmers would do the same, +his speech decided the matter. We all wanted to go to Oakford, and to +Oakford it was decided that we should go. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +OAKFORD ONCE MORE--THE SATIN CHAIRS--THE HOUSEKEEPER--THE LITTLE +LADIES AGAIN--FAMILY MONUMENTS + + +The expedition was very successful, and we all returned in safety to +Dacrefield; rather, I think, to the astonishment of some of the +good-wives of the village, who looked upon any one who passed the +parish bounds as a traveller, and thought our jaunt to Oakford +"venturesome" almost to a "tempting of Providence." + +It is a curious study to observe what things strike different people +on occasions of this kind. + +It was not the house itself, though the building was remarkably fine +(a modern erection on the site of the old "Grange"), nor the natural +features of the place, though they were especially beautiful, that +roused the admiration of our teachers and their scholars. Somebody +said that the house was "a deal bigger than the Hall" (at Dacrefield), +and one or two criticisms were passed upon the timber; but the noble +park, the grand slopes, the lovely peeps of distance, the exquisite +taste displayed in the grounds and gardens about the house, drew +little attention from our party. Within, the succession of big rooms +became confusing. One or two bits in certain pictures were pronounced +by the farmers "as natteral as life;" the "stattys" rather +scandalized them, and the historical legends attached by the +housekeeper to various pieces of furniture fell upon ears too little +educated to be interested. But when we got to the big drawing-room the +yellow satin chairs gave general and complete satisfaction. When old +Giles said, "Here they be!" we felt that all he had told us before was +justified, and that we had not come to Oakford in vain. We stroked +them, some of the more adventurous sat upon them, and we echoed the +churchwarden's remark, "Yaller satin, sure enough, and the backs +gilded like a picter-frame." + +I cannot but think that the housekeeper must have had friends visiting +her that day, which made our arrival inconvenient and tried her +temper--she was so very cross. She ran through a hasty account of each +room in injured tones, but she resented questions, refused +explanations, and was particularly irritable if anybody strayed from +the exact order in which she chose to marshal us through the house. A +vein of sarcasm in her remarks quite overpowered our farmers. + +"Please to stand off the walls. There ain't no need to crowd up +against them in spacyous rooms like these, and the paper ain't one of +your cheap ones with a spotty pattern as can be patched or matched +anywhere. It come direct from the Indies, and the butterflies and the +dragons is as natteral as life. 'Whose picter's that in the last +room?' You should have kept with the party, young woman, and then +you'd 'ave knowed. Parties who don't keep with the party, and then +wants the information repeated, will be considered as another party, +and must pay accordingly. Next room, through the white door to the +left. Now, sir, we're a-waiting for you! All together, if you +please!" + +[Illustration: "All together, if you please!"] + +But in spite of the good lady, I generally managed to linger behind, +or run before, and so to look at things in my own way. Once, as she +was rehearsing the history of a certain picture, I made my way out of +the room, and catching sight of some pretty things through an open +door at the end of the passage, I went in to see what I could see. +Some others were following me when the housekeeper spied them, and +bustled up, angrily recalling us, for the room, as we found, was a +private _boudoir_, and not one of those shown to the public. In my +brief glance, however, I had seen something which made me try to get +some information out of the housekeeper, in spite of her displeasure. + +"Who are those little girls in the picture by the sofa?" I asked. +"Please tell me." + +"I gives all information in reference to the public rooms," replied +the housekeeper, loftily, "as in duty bound; but the private rooms is +not in my instructions." + +And nothing more could I get out of her to explain the picture which +had so seized upon my fancy. + +It was a very pretty painting--a modern one. Just the heads and +shoulders of two little girls, one of them having her face just below +that of the other, whose little arms were round her sister's neck. I +knew them in an instant. There was no mistaking that look of decision +in the face of the protecting little damsel, nor the wistful appealing +glance in the eyes of the other. The artist had caught both most +happily; and though the fair locks I had admired were uncovered, I +knew my little ladies of the beaver bonnets again. + +Having failed to learn anything about them from the housekeeper, I +went to old Giles and asked him the name of the gentleman to whom the +place belonged. + +"St. John," he replied. + +"I suppose he has got children?" I continued. + +"Only one living," said old Giles. "They do say he've buried six, most +on 'em in galloping consumptions. It do stand to reason they've had +all done for 'em that gold could buy, but afflictions, sir, they be as +heavy on the rich man as the poor; and when a body's time be come it +ain't outlandish oils nor furrin parts can cure 'em." + +I wondered which of the quaint little ladies had died, and whether +they had taken her to "furrin parts" before her death; and I thought +if it were the grey-eyed little maid, how sad and helpless her little +sister must be. + +"Only one left?" I said mechanically. + +"Ay, ay," said old Giles; "and he be pretty bad, I fancy. They've got +him in furrin parts where the sun shines all along; but they do say he +be wild to get back home, but that'll not be, but in his coffin, to be +laid with the rest in the big vault. Ay, ay, affliction spares none, +sir, nor yet death." + +So this last of the St. John family was a boy. If the little ladies +were his sisters, both must be dead; if not, I did not know who they +were. I felt very angry with the housekeeper for her sulky reticence. +I was also not highly pleased by her manner of treating me, for she +evidently took me for one of the Sunday-school boys. I fear it was +partly a shabby pride on this point which led me to "tip" her with +half-a-crown on my own account when we were taking leave. In a moment +she became civil to slavishness, hoped I had enjoyed myself, and +professed her willingness to show me anything about the place any day +when there were not so "many of them school children crowging and +putting a body out, sir. There's such a many common people comes, +sir," she added, "I'm quite wored out, and having no need to be in +service, and all my friends a-begging of me to leave. I only stays to +oblige Mr. St. John." + +It was, I think, chiefly in the way I had of thinking aloud that I +said, more to myself than to her, "I'm sure I don't know what makes +him keep you, you do it so very badly. But perhaps you're +respectable." + +The half-crown had been unexpected, and this blow fairly took away her +breath. Before her rage found words, we were gone. + +I did not fail to call on Mr. and Mrs. Buckle. The shop looked just +the same as when I was there with Mrs. Bundle. One would have said +those were the very rolls of leather that used to stand near the door. +The good people were delighted to see me, and proud to be introduced +to Mr. Andrewes and my tutor. I had brought some little presents with +me, both from myself and Nurse Bundle, which gave great satisfaction. + +"And where is Jemima?" I asked, as I sat nursing an imposing-looking +parcel addressed to her, which was a large toilette pincushion made +and ready furnished with pins for her by Mrs. Bundle herself. + +"Now, did you ever!" cried Mrs. Buckle in her old style; "to think of +the young gentleman's remembering our Jemima, and she married to Jim +Espin the tinsmith this six months past." + +So to the tinsmith's I went, and Jemima was, as she expressed it, +"that pleased she didn't know where to put herself," by my visit. She +presented me with a small tin lantern on which I had made some remark, +and which pleased me well. I saw the drawer of farthing wares also, +and might have had a flat iron had I been so minded; but I was too old +now to want it for a plaything, and too young yet to take it as a +remembrance of the past. + +I asked Mrs. Buckle about the two little beaver-bonneted ladies, but +she did not help me much. She did not remember them. They might be Mr. +St. John's little girls; he had buried four. A many ladies wore beaver +bonnets then. This was all she could say, so I gave up my inquiries. +It was as we were on our way from the Buckles to join the rest of the +party that Mr. Clerke caught sight of the quaint little village +church, and as churches and church services were matters of great +interest to us just then, the two parsons, the churchwarden, five +elder scholars and myself got the key from the sexton and went to +examine the interior. + +It was an old and rather dilapidated building. The glass in the east +window was in squares of the tint and consistency of "bottle glass," +except where one fragment of what is technically known as "ruby" bore +witness that there had once been a stained window there. There were +dirty calico blinds to do duty for stained glass in moderating the +light; dirt, long gathered, had blunted the sharpness of the tracery +on the old carved stalls in the chancel, where the wood-worms of +several generations had eaten fresh patterns of their own, and the +squat, solemn little carved figures seemed to moulder under one's +eyes. In the body of the church were high pews painted white, and four +or five old tombs with life-size recumbent figures fitted in oddly +with these, and a skimpy looking prayer-desk, pulpit, and font, which +were squeezed together between the half-rotten screen and a stone +knight in armour. + +"Pretty tidy," said our churchwarden, tapping of the pews with a +patronising finger; "but bless and save us, Mr. Andrewes, sir, the +walls be disgraceful dirty, and ten shillings' worth of lime and +labour would make 'em as white as the driven snow. The sexton says +there be a rate, and if so, why don't they whitewash and paint a bit, +and get rid of them rotten old seats, and make things a bit decent? +You don't find a many places to beat Dacrefield, sir, go as far as you +will," he added complacently, and with an air of having exhausted +experience in the matter of country churches. + +"Them old figures," he went on, "they puts me in mind of one my father +used to tell us about, that was in Dacrefield Church. A man with a +kind of cap on his face, and his feet crossed, and very pointed toes, +and a sword by his side." + +"At Dacrefield?" cried Mr. Andrewes; "surely there isn't a Templar at +Dacrefield?" + +"It were in the old church that came down," continued the +churchwarden, "in the old Squire's time. There was a deal of ancient +rubbish cleared out then, sir, I've heard, and laid in the stackyard +at the Hall. It were when my father were employed as mason under +'brick and mortar Benson,' as they called him, for repairs of a wall, +and they were short of stones, and they chipped up the figure I be +telling you of. My father allus said he knowed the head was put in +whole, and many's the time I've looked for it when a boy." + +I think Mr. Andrewes could endure the churchwarden's tale of former +destructiveness no longer, and he abruptly called us to come away. I +was just running to join the rest at the door, when my eye fell upon +a modern tablet of marble above a large cushioned pew. Like the other +monuments in the church, it was sacred to the memory of members of the +St. John family, and, as I found recorded the names of the wife and +six children of the present owner of the estate. Very pathetic, after +the record of such desolation, were the words of Job (cut below the +bas-relief at the bottom, which, not very gracefully, represented a +broken flower): "The LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away: blessed +be the name of the LORD." + +Mr. Clerke was hurrying back up the church to fetch me as I read the +text. I had just time to see that the last two names were the names of +girls, before I had to join him. + +Amy and Lucy. Were those indeed the dainty little children who such a +short time ago were living, and busy like myself, happy with the +tinsmith's toys, and sad for a drenched doll? Wild speculations +floated through my head as I followed the tutor, without hearing one +word of what he was saying about tea and teachers, and reaching +Dacrefield before dark. + +I had wished to be their brother. Supposing it had been so, and that I +were now withering under the family doom, homesick and sick unto death +"in furrin parts!" My last supposition I thought aloud: + +"I suppose they know all the old knights, and those people in ruffs, +with their sons and daughters kneeling behind them, now. That is, if +they were good, and went to heaven." + +"_Who_ do you suppose know the people in the ruffs?" asked the +bewildered tutor. + +"Amy and Lucy St. John," said I; "the children who died last." + +"Well, Regie, you certainly _do_ say _the_ most _sin_gular things," +said Mr. Clerke. + +But that was a speech he often made, with the emphasis as it is given +here. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +NURSE BUNDLE FINDS A VOCATION--RAGGED ROBIN'S WIFE--MRS. BUNDLE'S +IDEAS ON HUSBANDS AND PUBLIC-HOUSES + + +I was very happy under Mr. Clerke's sway, and yet I was glad to go to +school. + +The tutor himself, who had been "on the foundation" at Eton, had +helped to fill me with anticipations of public-school life. It was +decided that I also should go to Eton, but as an oppidan, and becoming +already a partisan of my own part of the school, I often now disputed +conclusions or questioned facts in my tutor's school anecdotes, which +commonly tended to the sole glorification of the "collegers." + +I must not omit to mention an interview that about this period took +place between my father and Mrs. Bundle. It was one morning just after +the Eton matter had been settled, that my nurse presented herself in +my father's library, her face fatter and redder than usual from being +swollen and inflamed by weeping. + +"Well?" said my father, looking up pleasantly from his accounts. But +he added hastily, "Why, bless me, Mrs. Bundle, what is the matter?" + +"Asking your pardon for troubling you, sir," Nurse Bundle began in a +choky voice, "but as you made no mention of it yourself, sir, your +kindness being what it is, and the young gentleman as good as gone to +school, and me eating the bread of idleness ever since that tutor +come, I wished to know, sir, when you thought of giving me notice." + +"Give you notice to do what?" asked my father. + +"To leave your service, sir," said Mrs. Bundle, steadily. "There's no +nurse wanted in this establishment now, sir." + +My father laid one hand on Mrs. Bundle's shoulder, and with the other +he drew forward a miniature of my mother which always hung on a +standing frame on the writing-table. + +"It is like yourself to be so scrupulous," he said; "but you will +never again speak of leaving us, Mrs. Bundle. Please, for her sake," +added my father, his own voice faltering as he looked towards the +miniature. As for Nurse Bundle, her tears utterly forbade her to get +out a word. + +"If you have too much to do," my father went on, "let a young girl be +got to relieve you of any work that troubles you; or, if you very much +wish for a home to yourself, I have no right to refuse that, though I +wish you could be happy under my roof, and I will see about one of +those cottages near the gate. But you will not desert me--and +Reginald--after so many years." + +"The day I do leave will be the breaking of my heart," sobbed Nurse +Bundle, "and if there was any ways in which I could be useful--but +take wages for nothing, I could not, sir." + +"Mrs. Bundle," said my father, "if your wages were a matter of any +importance to me, if I could not afford even to pay you for your work, +I should still ask you to share my home, with such comforts as I had +to offer, and to help me so far as you could, for the sake of the +past. I must always be under an obligation to you which I can never +repay," added my father, in his rather elaborate style. "And as to +being useful, well, ahem, if you will kindly continue to superintend +and repair my linen and Master Reginald's ----" + +"Why, bless your innocence, sir, and meaning no disrespect," said Mrs. +Bundle, "but there ain't no mending in _your_ linen. There was some +darning in the tutor's socks, but you give away half-a-dozen pair last +Monday, sir, as hadn't a darn in 'em no bigger than a pea." + +I think it was the allusion to "giving away" that suggested an idea to +my father in his perplexity for employing Nurse Bundle. + +"Stay," he exclaimed, "Mrs. Bundle, there is a way in which you could +be of the greatest service to me. I often feel that the loss of a lady +at the head of my household must be especially felt among the poor +people around us--additionally so, as Mr. Andrewes is not married, and +there is no lady either at the Rectory or here to visit the sick and +encourage the mothers and children. I fear that when I do anything for +them it is often in a wrong way, or for wrong objects." + +"Well, sir," said Mrs. Bundle, an old grievance rushing to her mind, +"I had thought myself of making so bold as to speak to you about that +there Tommy Masden as you give half-crowns to, as tells you one big +lie on the top of another, and his father drinks every penny he earns, +and his mother at the back-door all along for scraps, and throwed the +Christmas soup to the pig, and said they wasn't come to the workus +yet; and a coat as good as new of yours, sir, hanging out of the door +of the pawnshop, and giving me such a turn I thought my legs would +never have carried me home, till I found you'd given it to that Tommy, +who won't do a hand's turn for sixpence, but begs at every house in +the parish every week as comes round, and tells everybody, as he tells +yourself, sir, that he never gets nothing from nobody." + +"Well, well," said my father, laughing, "you see how I want somebody +to look out the real cases of distress and deserving poverty. Of +course, I must speak to Mr. Andrewes first, Mrs. Bundle, but I am sure +he will be as glad as myself that you should do what we have neither +of us a wife to undertake." + +I know Nurse Bundle was only too glad to reconcile her honest +conscience to staying at Dacrefield; and I think the allusion to the +lack of a lady head to our household decided her at all risks to +remove that reason for a second Mrs. Dacre. Moreover, the duties +proposed for her suited her tastes to a shade. + +Mr. Andrewes was delighted. And thus it came about that, though my +father would have been horrified at the idea of employing a Sister of +Mercy, and though Bible-woman and district visitor were names not +familiar in our simple parochial machinery, Mrs. Bundle did the work +of all three to the great benefit of our poor neighbours. + +Not, however, to the satisfaction of those who had hitherto leant most +upon the charity of the Hall. A certain picturesquely tattered man, +living at some distance from the village, who was in the habit of +waylaying my father at certain points on the estate, with well-timed +agricultural remarks and a cunning affectation of half-wittedness and +good-humour, got henceforward no half-crowns for his pains. + +"Mrs. Bundle has knocked off all my pensioners," my father would +laughingly complain. But he was quite willing that the half-crowns +should now be taken direct to the man's wife and children, instead of +passing from his hands to the public-house. "Though really the good +woman--for I understand she is a most excellent person--is singularly +hard-favoured," my father added, "and looks more as if she thrashed +old Ragged Robin than as if he beat her, as I hear he does." + +"Nothing inside, and the poker outside, makes a many women as they've +no wish to sit for their picter," said Mrs. Bundle, severely, in reply +to some remark of mine, reflecting, like my father's, on the said +woman's appearance. "And when a woman has children, and their father +brings home nothing but kicks and bad language, in all reason if it +isn't the death or the ruin of her, it makes her as she 'asn't much +time nor spirits to spare for dropping curtseys and telling long tales +like some people as is always scrap-seeking at gentry's back-doors. +But I knows a clean place when I takes it unawares, and clothes with +more patch than stuff, and all the colour washed out of them, and +bruises hid, and a bad husband made the best of, and children as knows +how to behave themselves." + +The warmth of Mrs. Bundle's feelings only prompted me to tease her; +and it was chiefly for "the fun of working her up" that I said-- + +"Ah, but, Nurse, you know we heard she went after him one night to the +public-house, and made a row before everybody. I don't mean he ought +to go to the public-house, but still, I'm sure if I'd a wife who came +and hunted me up when she thought I ought to be indoors, I'd--well, +I'd try and teach her to stay at home. Besides, women ought to be +gentle, and perhaps if she were sweeter-tempered with him, he'd be +kinder to her." + +"Do you know what she went for, Master Reginald?" said Nurse Bundle. +"Not a halfpenny does he give her to feed the children with, and +everything in that house that's got she gets by washing. And the rich +folk she washed for kept her waiting for her money--more shame to 'em; +there was weeks run on, and she borrowed a bit, and pawned a bit, and +when she went the day they said they'd pay her, he'd been before and +drawed the money, and was drinking it up when she went to see if she +could get any, and then laughed at her, and sent her back to the +children as was starving, and the neighbour she'd borrowed of as +called her a thief and threatened to have her up. Gentle! why, bless +your innocence, who ever knowed gentleness do good to a drunkard? She +should have stood up to him sooner, and he'd never have got so bad. +She's kept his brute ways to herself and made his home comfortable +with her own earnings, till he thinks he may do anything and never +bring in nothing. She did lay out some of his behaviour before him +that day, and he beat her for it afterwards. But if it had been me, +Master Reginald, I'd have had money to feed them children, or I'd have +fought him while I'd a bit of breath in my body." + +And with all my respect for Nurse Bundle, I am bound to say that I +think she would have been as good as her word. + +"Go to your tutor, my dear," she continued, "and talk Latin and Greek +and such like, as you knows about; but don't talk rubbish about +pretty looks and ways for a woman as is tied to a drunkard, for I +can't abear it. I seed enough of husbands and public-houses in my +young days to keep me a single woman and my own missis. Not but what +I've had my feelings like other folk, and plenty of offers, besides a +young cabinet-maker as had high wages and the beautifullest complexion +you ever saw. But he was overfond of company; so I went to service, +and cried myself to sleep every night for three months; and when next +I see him he was staggering along the street, and I says, 'I'm sorry +to see you like this, William,' and he says, 'It's your doing, Mary; +your No's drove me to the glass.' And I says, 'Then it's best as it +is. If one No drove you to the glass, you and married life wouldn't +suit, for there's plenty of Noes there.' So I left him wiping his +eyes, for he always cried when he was in beer. And I says to myself, +'I'll go back to place, where I knows what I'm working for, and can +leave it if we don't suit.' And it was always the same, my dear. If it +was a nice-looking footman, he'd have his evening out and come home +fresh; and if it was an elderly butler as had put a little by, he +wanted to set up in the public line. So I kept myself to myself, my +dear, for I'm short-tempered at the best, and could never put up with +the abuse of a man in liquor." + +I was so thoroughly converted to the side of Ragged Robin's wife, that +I at once pressed some of my charity money on Mrs. Bundle for her +benefit; but I tried to dispute my nurse's unfavourable view of +husbands by instancing her worthy brother-in-law at Oakford. + +"Ah, yes, Buckle," said Mrs. Bundle, in a tone which seemed to do +less justice to the saddler's good qualities than they deserved. "He's +a good, soft, easy body, is Buckle." + +Whence I concluded that Mrs. Bundle, like some other ladies, was not +altogether easy to please. + +I think it was during our last walk through the village before Mr. +Clerke left us, that he and I called on Ragged Robin's wife. She was +thankful, but not communicative, and the eyes, deep set in her bony +and discoloured face, seemed to have lost the power of lighting up +with hope. + +"My dear Regie," said Mr. Clerke, as we turned homewards, "I never saw +anything more pitiable than the look in that woman's eyes; and the +tone in which she said, 'There be a better world afore us all, +sir--I'll be well off then,' when I said I hoped she'd be better off +and happier now, quite went to my heart. I'm afraid she never will +have much comfort in this world, unless she outlives her lord and +master. Do you know, Regie, she reminds me very much of an ill-treated +donkey; her bones look so battered, and there's a sort of stubborn +hopelessness about her like some poor Neddy who is thwacked and tugged +this way and that, work he never so hard. Poor thing, she may well +look forward to Heaven," added my tutor, whose kind heart was very +sore on this subject, "and it's a blessed thought how it will make up, +even for such a life here!" + +"What will make it up to the donkeys?" I asked, taking Mr. Clerke at a +disadvantage on that standing subject of dispute between us--a "better +world" for beasts. + +But my tutor only said, "My dear Regie, you _do_ say _the_ most +_sin_gular things!" which, as I pointed out, was no argument, one way +or another. + +Meanwhile, through Mrs. Bundle, we did our best for Robin's wife and +certain other ill-treated women about the place. Mrs. Bundle could be +very severe on the dirt and discomfort which "drove some men to the +public as would stay at home if there was a clean kitchen to stay in, +and less of that nagging at a man and screaming after children as +never made a decent husband nor a well-behaved child yet." Yet in +certain cases of undeserved brutality, like Robin's, I fear she +sometimes counselled resistance, on the principle that it "couldn't +make him do worse, and might make him do better." + +I am sure that my father had never thought of Mrs. Bundle acting as +sick nurse in the village; but matters seemed to develop of +themselves. She was so experienced and capable that she could hardly +fail to smoothe the disordered bed-clothes, open the window, clear the +room of the shiftless gossips who flocked like ravens to predict +death, and take the control of mismanaged sick-rooms. It came to be a +common thing that some wan child should present itself at our door +with the message that "Missis Bundle she wants her things, for as +mother be so bad, she says she'll see her over the night." + +As for herself, I doubt if she had ever been happier in her life. Her +conscience was at ease, for she certainly worked hard enough for her +wages, and it was good to see the glow of pleasure that an +oft-repeated remark of my father's never failed to bring over her +honest face. + +"Don't overwork yourself, Mrs. Bundle. What should we do if you were +laid up?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +I GO TO ETON--MY MASTER--I SERVE HIM WELL + + +I went joyfully to school the first time, but each succeeding half +with less and less willingness. And yet my school-days were very happy +ones, especially to look back upon. + +"You will be in the same tutor's house as Lionel Damer," said my +father; "and I have written to ask him to befriend you." + +"Just the sort of idiotic thing parents do do," said Sir Lionel, on +our first meeting. "You may thank your stars I don't pay you off for +it." + +Leo had grown much taller since we met, but he had lost none of his +beauty. I was overpowered by his noble appearance and the air of +authority he wore, and then and there gave him the hero-worship of my +heart. It was with a thrill of delight that I heard him add, "However, +I want a fag, and I dare say I can take you. Any sock with you?" + +"Oh, yes, Leo," said I, hastily; "a big hamper. And there are two +cakes, and a pigeon pie, and lots of jam, and some macaroons and +turnovers, and two bottles of raspberry vinegar." + +"My name's Damer," said Leo. "Can you cook?" + +"Not yet, Damer," said I, hoping that my answer conveyed my +willingness to learn. For I was quite prepared for all the duties of +fag life from Mr. Clerke's descriptions. And I was prepared to perform +them, pending the time when I should have a fag of my own. + +I must do Leo justice. His tyranny was merciful. I was soon expert in +preparing his breakfast. I used to fetch him hot dishes from the shop. +My own cooking was not good, and I made, so he said, the most +execrable coffee, which led him to fling the contents of the pot at me +one morning, ruining my shirt, trickling hot and wet down my body +under my clothes, and giving me infinite trouble in cleaning his +carpet. (As to _his_ coffee, and the salad dressing he made, and his +cooking generally, when he chose to do it, I have never met with +anything like it since. However, things taste well in one's +school-days.) + +Leo Damer was one of those people who seem able to do everything just +a little better than his neighbours, without attaining overwhelming +superiority in any one line. The masters always complained that he did +not do as much in school as he might have done, and yet he stood well +with them. His conduct was of the highest. I may say here that, +knowing him intimately in boyhood and youth, I am able to assert that +his moral conduct was always "without reproach." His own freedom from +vice, and the tight hand he kept over me, who lived but to admire and +imitate him, were of such benefit to me in the manifold temptations of +school-life as I can never forget. His self-respect amounted to +self-esteem, his love for other people's good opinion to a failing, he +was refined to fastidiousness; but I think these characteristics +helped him towards the exceptional character he bore. A keen +sensitiveness to pain and discomfort, and considerable natural +indolence, further tended to keep him out of scrapes into which an +adventurous spirit led many more reckless boys. He had never been +flogged, and he said he never would be. "I would drown myself sooner," +he said to me. And if any dark touch were wanting to complete my +hero's portrait, it was given by this terrible threat, in which I put +full faith. + +He was a dandy, and his dressing-table was the plague of my life. Well +do I remember breaking some invaluable toilette preparation on it, and +the fit of rage in which he flung the broken bottle at my head. He was +very sorry when his first wrath was past, and he bound up my head, and +gave me a pound of sausages, and a superbly bound copy of Young's +"Night Thoughts," which I still possess. I also retain a white scar +above one of my eyes, in common with at least eight out of every ten +men I know. + +"Do you ever hear from your cousin?" Sir Lionel asked one day in +careless tones. + +"Polly writes to me sometimes," said I. + +"You can show me the next letter you get," said Sir Lionel +condescendingly; which I accordingly did, and thenceforward he saw all +my letters from her. I was soon clever enough to discover that Leo +liked to be asked after by his old friends, and to receive messages +from them, which led me to write to Polly, begging her always to send +"nice messages" to Sir Lionel, as he would then treat me well, and +perhaps give me some of his smoked bacon for breakfast. Her reply was +characteristic: + +"MY DEAR REGIE,--" + + I shan't send nice messages to Leo. I am sorry you showed + him the letter where I said he was handsome. Handsome is + that handsome does, and if he treats you badly he is very + ugly, and I hate him. If he doesn't give you any bacon, he's + very mean. You may tell him what I say. + +"I am your affectionate cousin, + +"POLLY." + +I was obliged to hide this letter from Leo; but when he asked me if I +had heard from Polly I could not lie to him, and he sent me to +Coventry for withholding the letter. I bore a day and a half of his +silence and neglect; then I could endure it no longer, and showed him +the letter. He was less angry than I expected. He coloured and +laughed, and called me a little fool for writing such stuff to Polly, +and said her answer was just like her. Then he gave me some of the +bacon, and we were good friends again. + +But the seal of our friendship was a certain occasion when I saved him +from the only flogging with which he was ever threatened. + +He was unjustly believed to be concerned in an insolent breach of +certain orders, and was sentenced to a flogging which was really the +due of another lad whom he was too proud to betray. He would not even +condescend to remonstrate with the boy who was meanly allowing him to +suffer, and betrayed his anguish in the matter so little that I doubt +if the real culprit (who never was a week unflogged himself) had any +idea what the punishment was to poor Leo. + +He hid himself from us all; but in the evening I got into his room, +where I found him, pale and silent, putting some things into a little +bag. + +"Little one!" he cried, "I know you can keep a secret. I want you to +help me off. I'm going to run away." + +"Oh Damer!" I cried; "but supposing you're caught; it'll be much worse +then." + +"They won't catch me," he said, his lip quivering. "I can disguise +myself. And I shall never come back till I'm a man. My guardian would +bring me here again. He thinks a man can hardly be a gentleman unless +he was well flogged in his youth. Look here old fellow, I've left +everything here to you. Keep out of mischief as I've shown you how, +and--and--you'll tell Polly I wasn't to blame." + +I was now weeping bitterly. "Dear Damer," said I, "you can't disguise +yourself. Anybody would know you; you're too good-looking. Damer," I +added abruptly, "did you ever pray for things? I used to at home, and +do you know, they always came true. Wait for me, I'll be back soon," I +concluded, and rushing to my room, I flung myself on my knees, and +prayed with all my heart for the averting of this, to my young mind, +terrible tragedy. I dared not stay long, not knowing what Leo might +do, and on the stairs I met the real culprit, who was in our house. To +this day I remember with amusement the flood of speech with which, in +my excitement, I overwhelmed him. I painted his meanness in the +darkest colours, and the universal contempt of his friends. I made him +a hero if he took his burden on his own back. I dwelt forcibly on +Leo's bitter distress and superior generosity. I bribed him to confess +all with my many-weaponed pocket-knife (the envy of the house). I +darkly hinted a threat of "blabbing" myself, as my meanness in telling +tales would be as nothing to his in allowing Leo to suffer for his +fault. Which argument prevailed I shall never know. I fancy Leo's +distress and the knife did it between them, for he was both +good-natured and greedy. He told the truth by a great effort, and took +his flogging with complete indifference. + +Thenceforward Leo and I were as brothers. He taught me to sketch, we +kept divers pets together, and fused our botanical collections. He +cooked unparalleled dishes for us, and read poetry aloud to me with an +exquisite justness and delicacy of taste that I have never heard +surpassed. + +His praise was nectar to me. When he said, "I tell you what, Regie, +you've an uncommon lot of general information, I can tell you," my +head was quite turned. Whatever he did seemed right to me. When I +first came to school, my hat was duly peppered and pickled by the boys +and replaced by me with one of unexceptionable shape. My shirts then +gave offence to my new master. + +"I suppose," he said, surveying me deliberately, "a good many of your +things are made by Mrs. Baggage?" + +"Nurse Bundle makes my shirts, Damer," said I. + +"It's all the same," said Damer. "I knew it was connected with a +_parcel_ somehow. Well, the _Package_ patterns are very pretty, no +doubt, but I think it's time you were properly rigged out." + +Which was duly done; and when holidays came and the scandalized Mrs. +Bundle asked what I had done "with them bran-new fine linen shirts," +and where "them rubbishing cotton rags" had come from that I brought +in their place, I could only inform her, with a feeble imitation of +Leo's lofty coolness, that I had used the first to clean Damer's +lamp, and that the second were the "correct thing." + +One day I said to him, "I don't know why, Damer, but you always make +me think of a vision of one of the Greek heroes when I see you walking +in the playing-fields." + +I believe my simply-spoken compliment deeply gratified him; but he +only said, like Mr. Clerke, "You _do_ say the oddest things, little +'un!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +COLLECTIONS--LEO'S LETTER--NURSE BUNDLE AND SIR LIONEL + + +If Nurse Bundle hoped that when I went to school an end would be put +to the "collections" which troubled her tidy mind, she was much +deceived. Neither Leo nor I were bookworms, and we were not by any +means so devoted as some boys to games and athletics. But for +collections of all kinds we had a fancy that almost amounted to mania. + +Our natural history manias in their respective directions came upon us +like fevers. We "sickened" at the sight of somebody else's collection, +or because we had been reading about butterflies, or birds' eggs, or +water-plants, as the case might be. When "the complaint" was "at its +height," we lived only for specimens; we gave up leisure, sleep, and +pocket-money to our collection; we made notes and memoranda in our +grammars and lexicons that had no classical reference. We sent letters +to country newspapers which never appeared, and asked questions that +met with no reply. We were apt, also, to recover from these attacks, +leaving Nurse Bundle burdened with boxes or folios of dry, dusty +broken fragments of plants and insects, which we did not touch, but +which she was strictly forbidden to destroy. We pursued our fancies +during the holidays. I have now a letter that I got from Damer after +my fourth half: + +"London. + +"MY DEAR REGIE,-- + + "_Eureka_! What do you think? My poor governor collected + moths. I bullied my guardian till he let me have the + collection. Such specimens! No end of foreign ones we know + nothing about, and I am having a case made. I found a little + book with his notes in. We are quite at sea to go flaring + about with nets and bruising the specimens. The way is to + dig for chrysalises. Mind you do; and how I envy you! For I + have to be in this horrid town, when I long to be grubbing + at the roots of trees. Polly quite agrees with me. She hates + London; and says the happiest time in her life was when she + was at Dacrefield. My only comfort is to go to the old + bookstalls and look for books about moths and butterflies. + Imagine! The other day when your aunt was out, I took Polly + with me. She said she would give anything on earth to go. So + we went. We went into some awful streets, and had some + oysters at a stall, and came back carrying no end of books; + and just as we got in at the door there were your aunt and + Lady Chelmsfield coming out. What a rage your aunt was in! I + tried to take all the blame, but she shut Polly up for a + fortnight. It's a beastly shame, but Polly says the + expedition was worth it; her spirit is splendid. I never + wrote such a long letter in my life before, but I am in the + blues, and have no one to talk to. I wish my poor governor + had lived. I wish I were in the country. I wish your aunt + was a moth. Wouldn't I pin her to a cork! Mind you work up + old Mother Hubbard to a sumptuous provision of grub for next + half, and don't forget the other grubs. Would that I could + dig with thee for them. _Vale_! + +"Thine ever, + +"LIONEL DAMER." + +Of course this ended in Leo's being invited to Dacrefield. He came, +and, wonderful to relate, we got Polly too. My father invited her and +my aunt to visit us, and they came. As Leo said, Aunt Maria "behaved +better than we expected." Indeed, Leo had no reason to complain of her +treatment of him as a rule, for he was constantly at the Ascotts' +house during his holidays. + +And so we rambled and scrambled about together, Leo, and Polly, and I. +And we added largely to our collections, and made a fernery (the +Rector helping us), and rode about the country, and were thoroughly +happy. We generally went to the nursery for a short time before +dressing for dinner, where we teased and coaxed Mrs. Bundle, and ate +large slices of an excellent species of gingerbread called +"parliament," which she kept in a tin case in the cupboard. In return +for these we entertained her with marvellous "tales of school," +rousing her indignation by terrible narratives of tyrannous and cruel +fagging, and taking away her breath by tales of reckless daring, +amusing impudence, or wanton destructiveness common to boys. Some of +these we afterwards confessed to be fables, told--as we politely put +it--to "see how much she _would_ swallow." + +After dinner we were expected to sit with my father and Aunt Maria in +the drawing-room. Then, also, poor Polly was expected to "give us a +little music," and dutifully went through some performances which +were certainly a remarkable example of how much can be acquired in the +way of mechanical musical skill where a real feeling for the art is +absent. After politely offering to turn over the leaves of her music, +which Polly always declined (it was the key-note of her energetic +character that she "liked to do everything herself"), my father +generally fell asleep. I whiled away the time by playing with Rubens +under the table, Aunt Maria "superintended" the music in a way that +must have made any less stolid performer nervous, and Leo was apt to +try and distract Polly's attention by grimaces and pantomime of a far +from respectful nature behind Aunt Maria's back. + +Sir Lionel was not a favourite with Nurse Bundle. I was unfortunate +enough to give her a prejudice against him, which nothing seemed to +wear out. Thinking his real, or affected mistake about her name a good +joke, and having myself the strongest relish and admiration for his +school-boy wit, I had told Nurse Bundle of his various versions of her +name; and had tried to convey to her the comic nature of the scenes +when my hat was pickled, and when Leo condemned my home-made shirts. + +But quite in vain. Nurse Bundle's sense of humour (if she had any) was +not moved by the things that touched mine. She looked upon the +destruction of the hat and the shirts as "a sinful waste," and as to +Leo's jokes-- + +"Called me a baggage, did he?" said the indignant Mrs. Bundle. "I'll +Sir Lionel him when I get the chance. At my time of life, too!" + +And no explanation from me amended matters. By the time that Leo did +come, Nurse Bundle had somewhat recovered from the insult, but he was +never a favourite with her. He "chaffed" her freely, and Mrs. Bundle +liked to be treated with respect. Still there was a fascination about +his beauty and his jokes against which even she was not always proof. +I have seen her laugh and fetch out the parliament box when Leo +followed her about like a dog walking on its hind legs, wagging an old +piece of rope at the end of his jacket for a tail, and singing-- + + "Good Mother Hubbard, + Pray what's in your cupboard? + Could you give a poor dog a bone?" + +And when he got the parliament he would "sit up" and balance a slice +of the gingerbread on his nose, till Polly and I cheered with delight, +and Rubens became frantic at the mockery of his own performances, and +Mrs. Bundle complained that "Sir Lionel never knowed when to let +nonsense be." + +But I think she was something like the housemaid who "did the +bedrooms," and who complained bitterly of the additional trouble given +by Leo and me when we were at Dacrefield, and who was equally pathetic +about the dulness of the Hall when we returned to school. "The young +gentlemen be a deal of trouble, but they do keep a bit of life in the +place, sure enough." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE DEATH OF RUBENS--POLLY'S NEWS--LAST TIMES + + +When one has reached a certain age time seems to go very fast. Then, +also, one begins to understand the meaning of such terms as "the +uncertainty of life," "changes," "loss of friends," "partings," "old +times," etc., which ring sadly in the ears of grown-up folk. + +After my first half at Eton, this universal experience became mine. +There was never a holiday time that I did not find some change; and, +too often, a loss to meet my return. + +One of the first and bitterest was the death of Rubens. + +I had been most anxious to get home, and yet somehow, in less high +spirits than usual, which made it feel not unnatural that my father's +face should be so unusually grave when he came to meet me. + +"I have some very bad news for you, my dear boy," he said. "I fear, +Regie, that poor Rubens is dying." + +"He've been a-dying all day, sir," said the groom, when we stood at +last by Rubens' side. "But he seems as if he couldn't go peaceable +till you was come." + +He seemed to be gone. The beautiful curls were limp and tangled. He +lay on his side with his legs stretched out; his eyes were closed. +But when I stooped over him and cried "Ruby!" his flabby ears pricked, +and he began to struggle. + +"It's a fit," said the groom. + +But it was nothing of the kind. Rubens knew what he was about, and at +last actually got on to his feet, when, after swaying feebly about for +a moment, he staggered in my direction (he could not see) and +literally fell into my arms, with one last wag of his dear tail. + +"They say care killed the cat," said Mrs. Bundle, when I went up to +the nursery, "but if it could cure a dog, my deary, your dog would +have been alive now. I never see the Squire so put about since you had +the fever. He was up at five o'clock this very morning, the groom +says, putting stuff into the corners of its mouth with a silver +teaspoon, and he've had all the cow doctors about to see him, and Dr. +Gilpin himself he've been every day, and Mr. Andrewes the same. And +I'd like to know, my deary, what more could be done for a sick +Christian than the doctor and parson with him daily till he dies?" + +"A Christian would be buried in the churchyard," said I; "and I wish +poor dear Rubens could." + +But as he couldn't, I made his grave where the churchyard wall skirted +the grounds of the Hall. "Perhaps, some day, the churchyard will have +to be enlarged," I explained to the Rector, who was puzzled by my +choice of a burying-place, "and then Rubens will _get taken in_." + +My father was most anxious to get me another pet. I might have had a +dog of any kind. Dogs of priceless breeds, dogs for sporting, for +ratting, and for petting; dogs for use or for ornament. From a +bloodhound and mastiff almost large enough for me to ride, to a toy +poodle that would go into my pocket--I might have chosen a worthy +successor to Rubens, but I could not. + +"I shall never care for any other dog," I was rash enough to declare. +But my resolve melted away one day at the sight of a soft, black ball, +like a lump of soot, which arrived in a game-bag, and proved to be a +retriever pup. He grew into a charming dog, of much wisdom and +amiability. I called him Sweep. + +Thus half by half, holidays by holidays, changes, ceaseless changes +went on. Births, deaths, and marriages furnished my father with "news" +for his letters when I was away, and Nurse Bundle and me with gossip +when I came back. + +I heard also at intervals from Polly. Uncle Ascott's wealth increased +yearly. The girls grew up. Helen "was becoming Tractarian and +peculiar," which annoyed Aunt Maria exceedingly. Mr. Clerke had got a +curacy in London, and preached very earnest sermons, which Aunt Maria +hoped would do Helen good. Mr. Clerke worked very hard, and seemed to +like it; but he said that his happiest days were Dacrefield days. "I +quite agree with him," Polly added. Then came a letter:--"Oh, my dear +Regie, fancy! Miss Blomfield is married. And to whom, do you think? Do +you remember the old gentleman who sent us the cinder-parcel? Well, +it's to him; and he is really a very jolly old man; and thinks there +is no one in the world like Miss Blomfield. He told her he had been +carefully observing her conduct in the affairs of daily life for eight +years. My dear Regie, _fancy_ waiting eight years for one's next door +neighbour, when one was quite old to begin with! You have no idea how +much younger and better she looks in a home of her own, and a handsome +silk dress. Can you fancy her always apologising for being so happy? +She thinks she has too much happiness, and is idle, and who knows +what. It makes me feel quite ill, Regie, for if she is idle, and has +too much happiness, what am I, and what have I had? Do you remember +the days when you proposed that we should be very religious? I am sure +it's the only way to be very happy: I mean happy _always_, and +_underneath_. Leo says the great mistake is being _too_ religious, and +that people ought to keep out of extremes, and not make themselves +ridiculous. But I think he's wrong. For it seems just to be all the +heap of people who are only a little religious who never get any good +out of it. It isn't enough to make them happy whatever happens, and +it's just enough to make them uncomfortable if they play cards on a +Sunday. I know I wish I were really good, like Miss Blomfield, and Mr. +Clerke, and Helen. * * *" + +It was the year of Miss Blomfield's marriage that Ragged Robin's wife +died. We had all quite looked forward to the peace she would enjoy +when she was a widow, for it was known that delirium tremens was +surely shortening her husband's life. But she died before him. Her +children were wonderfully provided for. They were girls, and we had +them all at the Hall by turns in some sort of sub-kitchenmaid +capacity, from which they progressed to higher offices, and all became +first-class servants, and "did well." + +"My dear," said Nurse Bundle, "there ain't no difficulty in finding +homes for gals that have been brought up to clean, and to do as +they're bid. It's folk as can't do a thing if you set it 'em, nor +take care of a thing if you gives it 'em, as there's no providing +for." + +I almost shrink from recording the hardest, bitterest loss that those +changeful years of my school-life brought me--the death of Mr. +Andrewes. It was during my holidays, and yet I was not with him when +he died. + +I do not think I had noticed anything unusual about him beforehand. He +had not been very well for some months, but we thought little of it, +and he never dwelt upon it himself. I was in the fifth form at the +time, and almost grown up. Sweep was a middle-aged dog, the wisest and +handsomest of his race. The Rector always dined with us on Sunday, but +one evening he excused himself, saying he felt too unwell to come out, +and would prefer to stay quietly at home, especially as he had a +journey before him; for he was going the next day to visit his brother +in Yorkshire for a change. But he asked if my father would spare me to +come down and spend the evening with him instead. I rightly considered +Sweep as included in the invitation, and we went together. + +As we went up the drive (so familiar to me and poor little Rubens!) I +thought I had never seen the Rector's garden in richer beauty, or +heard such a chorus from the birds he loved and protected. Indeed the +border plants were luxuriant almost to disorder. It struck me that Mr. +Andrewes had not been gardening for some time. Perhaps this idea led +me to notice how ill he looked when I went indoors. But dinner seemed +to revive him, and then in the warm summer sunset we strolled outside +again. The Rector leant heavily on my arm. He made some joke about my +height, I remember. (I was proud of having grown so tall, and +secretly thought well of my general appearance in the tail-coat of +"fifth form.") With one arm I supported Mr. Andrewes, the other hung +at my side, into the hand of which Sweep ever and anon thrust his nose +caressingly. + +"How well the garden looks!" I said. "And your birds are giving you a +farewell concert." + +"Ah! You think so too?" said the Rector, quickly. + +I was puzzled. "You are going to-morrow, are you not?" I said. + +"Yes, of course. I see," said the Rector laughing. "I was thinking of +a longer journey. How superstitions do cling to north-countrymen! +We've a terrible lot of Paganism in us yet, for all the Christians +that we are!" + +"What was your superstition just now?" said I. + +"Oh, just part of a belief in the occult sympathy of the animal world +with humanity, which, indeed, I am by no means prepared to give up." + +"I should think not!" said I. + +"Though doubtless the idea that they feel and presage impending death +to man must be counted a fable." + +"Awful rot!" was my comment. "I say, sir, I'm sure you're not well, to +get such stuff into your head." + +"It's just that," said the Rector. "When I was a boy, I was far from +strong, and being rather bookish, I was constantly overworking my +head. What weird fancies and fads I had then, to be sure! I was +haunted by a lot of nervous plagues which it's best not to explain to +people who have never been tormented with them. One of the least +annoying was a sensation which now and then took possession of me +that everything I saw, heard, or did, was 'for the last time.' I've +often run back down a lane to get another glimpse of home, and done +over again something I had just finished--to break the charm! The old +childish folly has been plaguing me the last few days. It is strong on +me to-night." + +"Then we'll talk of something else," said I. + +Eventually our conversation became a religious one. It was like the +old days before I went to school. We had not had much religious talk +of late years. To say the truth, since I became an Eton man the +religious fervour of my childhood had died out. A strong belief in the +practical power of prayer (especially "when everything else failed") +was almost all that remained of that resolution to which Polly had +alluded in her letter. In discussions with her, I took Leo's view of +the subject. I warned her in a common-sense way against being +"religious overmuch" (not that I had any definite religious measure in +my mind); I laughed at Helen; I indulged a little cheap wit, and made +Polly furious, by smart sneers about women and parsons. I puzzled her +with scraps of old philosophy, and theological difficulties of +venerable standing, and was as proud to discomfit her faith as if my +own soul had no stake in the matter. I fairly drove her to tears about +the origin of evil. Sometimes I would have "Sunday talks" with her in +a different spirit, but even then she said I "did her no good," for I +would not believe that she could "have anything to repent of." + +I fancy Mr. Andrewes had asked me to come to him that evening greatly +for the purpose of having a "Sunday talk." My father had wished me to +be confirmed at home rather than at school, and as Bishops did not +hold confirmations at such short intervals then as they do now, an +opportunity had only just occurred. Mr. Andrewes was preparing me, and +it was a great annoyance to him that his ill-health obliged him to go +away in the middle of his instructions. I think he was feverish that +night. Every now and then he spoke so rapidly that I could hardly +follow him. Then there were pauses in which he seemed lost, and abrupt +changes of subject, as if he could hardly control the order of his +thoughts. And in all the evident strain and anxiety to say everything +that he wished to say to me appeared that morbid fancy of its being +"the last time." + +After we had talked for some time he said, "Life goes wonderfully +fast, Regie, though you may not think so just now. I do so well +remember being a child myself. I was eight years old, I think, when I +prayed for money enough to buy a _Fuchsia coccinea_ (they had not been +in England more than ten or twelve years then). My brother gave me +half-a-crown, and I got one. It seems as if that one yonder must be +it. I began a model of my father's house in card-board one winter, +too. Then I got bronchitis, and did not finish it. I have been +intending to finish it ever since, but it lies uncompleted in a box +upstairs. So we purpose and neglect, till death comes like a nurse to +take us to bed, and finds our tasks unfinished, and takes away our +toys!" + +Presently he went on: "Our mechanical arbitrary division of time is +indeed a very false one. See how one day drags along, and how quickly +another passes. The true measure of time is that which makes each +man's life a day, his day. The real night is that in which no man can +work. Indeed, nothing can be more true and natural than those Eastern +expressions. I remember things that happened in my childhood as one +remembers what one did this morning. What a lot of things I meant to +do to-day! And one runs out into the garden instead of setting to +work, and it is noon before one knows where he is, and other people +take up one's time, and the afternoon slips away, and a man's day had +need be fifty times its length for him to do all he means and ought to +do, and to run after all the distractions the devil sends him as well. +So comes old age, the evening when one is tired, and it's hard to make +any fresh start; and then we're pretty near the end, at 'the last +feather of the shuttle,' as we say in Yorkshire. I often think that +the pitiful shortness of this life, compared with a man's hopes and +plans, is almost proof enough of itself that there must be another, +better fitted to his aims and capacities. And then--measure the folly +of not securing _that_! And talking of proofs, Regie, and whilst I'm +taking the privilege of this season of your confirmation to proffer a +little advice, above all things make up your mind as to what you +believe, and on what grounds you believe it. Ask yourself, my boy, if +you believe the articles of the Apostles' Creed to be real positive +truths. Do you think there is evidence for the facts, as matters of +history? Are you ever likely to have the time or the talent to test +this for yourself? And, if not, do you consider the authority of those +who have done so, and staked everything upon their truth, as +sufficient? Will you receive it as the Creed of your Church? Make up +your mind, my boy, above all things make up your mind! Have _some_ +convictions, some real opinions, some worthy hopes; and be loyal to, +and in earnest about, whatever you do pin your faith to, I assure you +that vagueness of faith affects people's every-day conduct more than +they think. The sort of belief which takes a man to church on Sunday +who would be ashamed to look as if he were really praying, or +confessing real sins when he gets there, is small help to him when the +will balances between right and wrong. It is truly, as a matter of +mere common sense, a poor bargain, a wretched speculation, to be half +religious; to get a few checks and scruples out of it, and no real +strength and peace; and, it may be, to lose a man's soul, and not even +gain the world. For who dare promise himself that Christ our Judge, +who spent a self-denying human youth as our example, and so loved us +as to die for us, will accept a youth of indifference, and a +dissatisfied death-bed on our part? And if it be all true, and if +gratitude and common sense, and self-preservation, and the example and +advice of great men, demand that we shall serve GOD with all our +powers, don't you think the devil must, so to speak, laugh in his +sleeve to see us really conceited of being too large-minded to attend +too closely, or to begin to attend too early, to our own best +interests?" + +"Ah!" he added after a while, "my dear boy--dearer to me than you can +tell--the truth is, I covet for you the unutterable blessing of a +youth given to GOD. What that is, some know, and many a man converted +late in life has imagined with heart-wrung envy: an Augustine, already +numbered with the Saints, a Prodigal robed and decked with more than +pardon, haunted yet by dark shadows of the past, the husks and the +swine. My boy, with an unstained youth yet before you to mould as you +will, get to yourself the elder son's portion--'Thou art ever with +Me, and all that I have is thine.' And what GOD has for those who +abide with Him, even here, who can describe? It's worth trying for, +lad; it would be worth trying for, on the chance of GOD fulfilling His +promises, if His Word were an open question. How well worth any +effort, any struggle, you'll know when you stand where I stand +to-night." + +We had reached the front steps of the house as he said this. The last +few sentences had been spoken in jerks, and he seemed alarmingly +feeble. I shrank from understanding what he meant by his last words, +though I knew he did not refer to the actual spot on which we stood. +The garden was black now in the gloaming. The reflection from the +yellow light left by the sunset in the west gave an unearthly +brightness to his face, and I fancied something more than common in +the voice with which he quoted: + + "Jesu, spes poenitentibus, + Quam pius es petentibus! + Quam bonus te quaerentibus! + _Sed quid invenientibus_!" + +But I was fanciful that Sunday, or his nervous "fads" were infectious +ones; for on me also the superstition was strong to-night that it was +"the last time." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +I HEAR FROM MR. JONATHAN ANDREWES--YORKSHIRE--ALATHEA _alias_ +BETTY--WE BURY OUR DEAD OUT OF OUR SIGHT--VOICES OF THE NORTH + + +I sat up for a short time with my father on my return. When I went to +bed, to my amazement Sweep was absent, and I could not find him +anywhere. I did not like to return to the Rectory, for fear of +disturbing Mr. Andrewes' rest, so I went to bed without my dog. + +I was up early next morning, for I had resolved to go to the station +to see Mr. Andrewes off, though his train was an early one, that I +might disabuse him of his superstition by our meeting once more. It +was with a secret sense of relief, for my own part, that I saw him +arranging his luggage. Sweep, by-the-by, had turned up to breakfast, +and was with me. + +"I've come to see you off," I shouted, "and to break the charm of +_last times_, and Sweep has come too." + +"Strange to say, Sweep came back to me last night, after you left," +said the Rector, laughing; "and he added omen to superstition by +sitting under the window when I turned him out, and howling like a +Banshee." + +Sweep himself looked rather foolish as he wagged his tail in answer +to the Rector's greeting. He had the air of saying, "We were all a +little excited last night. Let it pass." + +For my own part I felt quite reassured. The Rector was in his sunniest +mood, and as he watched us from the window to the very last, his face +was so bright with smiles, that he hardly looked ill. + +For some days Sweep and I were absent, fishing. + +When I returned, I found on my mantelpiece a black-edged letter in an +unfamiliar hand. But for the black I should have fancied it was a +bill. The writing was what is called "commercial." I opened it and +read as follows: + +"North Side Mills, Blackford, + +Yorks. 4/8, 18--. + +"SIR, + + "I have to announce the lamented Decease of my + Brother--Reverend Reginald Andrewes, M.A.--which took place + on the 3rd inst. (3.35 A.M.), at Oak Mount, Blackford; where + a rough Hospitality will be very much at your Service, + should you purpose to attend the Funeral. Deceased expressed + a wish that you should follow the remains; and should your + respected Father think of accompanying you, the Compliment + will give much pleasure to Survivors. + + "Funeral party to leave Oak Mount at 4 P.M. on Thursday next + (the 8th inst.), D.V. + + "A line to say when you may be expected will enable me to + meet you, and oblige, + +"Yours respectfully, + +"JONATHAN ANDREWES. + +"Reginald Dacre, Esq., Jun." + +It is useless to dwell upon the bitterness of this blow. My father +felt it as much as I did, and neither he nor I ever found this loss +repaired. One loses some few friends in a lifetime whose places are +never filled. + +We went to the funeral. Had the cause of our journey been less sad, I +should certainly have enjoyed it very much. The railway ran through +some beautiful scenery, but it was the long coach journey at the end +which won my admiration for the Rector's native county. I had never +seen anything like these noble hills, these grand slopes of moorland +stretching away on each side of us as we drove through a valley to +which the river running with us gave its name. Not a quiet, sluggish +river, keeping flat pastures green, reflecting straight lines of +pollard willows, and constantly flowing past gay villas and country +cottages, but a pretty, brawling river with a stony bed, now yellow +with iron, and now brown with peat, for long distances running its +solitary race between the hills, but made useful here and there by +ugly mills built upon the banks. Sometimes there was a hamlet as well +as a mill. Tracts of the neighbouring moorland were enclosed and +cultivated, the fields being divided by stone walls, which looked rude +and strange enough to us. The cottages were also built of stone; but +as we drove through a village I could see, through several open doors, +that the rooms were very clean and most comfortably furnished, though +without carpets, the floors, like everything else, being of stone. + +It was dark before we reached Blackford. The latter part of our +journey was through a coal and iron district, and the glare of the +furnace fires among the hills was like nothing I had ever seen. At the +coach office we were met by Mr. Jonathan Andrewes. He was a tall, +well-made man, with badly-fitting clothes, rather tumbled linen, +imperfectly brushed hair and hat, and some want of that fresh +cleanliness and finish of general appearance which went to my idea of +a gentleman's outside. I found him a warm-hearted, cold-mannered man, +with a clear, strong head, and a shrewdness of observation which +recalled the Rector to my mind more than once. The tones of his voice +made me start sometimes, they were so like the voice that I could +never hear again in this life. He spoke always in the broad dialect +into which the Rector was only wont to relapse in moments of +excitement. + +A carriage, better appointed than the owner, and a man-servant rather +less so, were waiting, and took us to Oak Mount. In the hall our host +apologized for the absence of Mrs. Andrewes, who was at the sea-side, +out of health. + +"But Betty 'll do her best to make you comfortable, sir," he said to +my father, and turning to a middle-aged woman with a hard-featured, +sensible face, and very golden hair tightly braided to her head, who +was already busy with our luggage, he added, "You've got something for +us to eat, Betty, I suppose?" + +"T' supper 'll be ready by you're ready for it," said Betty, when she +had finished her orders to the man who was taking our things upstairs. +"But when folks is come off on a journey, they'll be glad to wash +their 'ands, and I've took hot water into both their rooms." + +The maid's familiarity startled me. Moreover, I fancied that for some +reason she was angry, judging by the form and manner of her reply; but +I have since learned that the ordinary answers of Scotch and Yorkshire +folk are apt to sound more like retorts than replies. + +In the end I became very friendly with this good woman. Her real name, +I discovered, was not Betty. "They call me Alathea," she said, meaning +that that was her name, "but I've allus gone by the name of Betty." +From her I learnt all the particulars of my dear friend's last +illness, which I never should have got from the brother. + +"He talked a deal about you," she said. "But you see, you're just +about t' age his son would have been if he'd lived." + +"His son!" I cried: "was Mr. Andrewes married?" + +"Ay," said she, "Master Reginald were married going i' two year. It +were his wife's death made him that queer while he couldn't abide the +business, and he'd allus been a great scholard, so he went for a +parson." + +Every detail that I could get from Alathea was interesting to me. +Apart from the sadly interesting subject, she had admirable powers of +narration. Her language (when it did not become too local for my +comprehension) was forcible and racy to a degree, and she was not +checked by the reserve which clogged Mr. Jonathan's lips. The +following morning she came to the door of the drawing-room (a large +dreary room, which, like the rest of the house, was handsomely +_upholstered_ rather than furnished), and beckoned mysteriously to me +from the door. I went out to her. + +"You'd like to see the body afore they fastens it up?" she said. + +I bent my head and followed her. + +"He makes a beautiful corpse," she whispered, as we passed into the +room. It was an incongruous remark, and stirred again an hysterical +feeling that had been driving me to laugh when I felt most sad amid +all the grotesquely dreary preparations for the "burying." But, like +some other sayings that offend ears polite, it had the merit of truth. + +It was not the beauty of the Rector's face in death, however, noble as +it was, that alone drew from me a cry of admiration when I stooped +over his coffin. From the feet to the breast, utterly hiding the grave +clothes, and tastefully grouped about his last pillow, were the most +beautiful exotic flowers I ever beheld. Flowers lately introduced that +I had never seen, flowers that I knew to be rare, almost +priceless--flowers of gorgeous colours and delicate hothouse beauty, +lay there in profusion. + +"Mr. Jonathan sent for 'em," Betty murmured in my ear. "There's pounds +and pounds' worth lies there. He give orders accordingly. There warn't +to be a flower 'at warn't worth its weight in gowd a'most. Mr. +Reginald were that fond of flowers." + +I made no answer. Bitterly ached my heart to think of that dear and +noble face buried out of sight; the familiar countenance that should +light up no more at the sight of me and Sweep. "He looks so happy," I +muttered, almost jealously. Alathea laid her hand upon my arm. + +"Them that sleeps in Jesus rests well, my dear. And, as I said to +Master Jonathan this morning, it ain't fit to overbegrudge them 'ats +gone Home." + +I think it was the naming of that Name, in which alone we vanquish the +bitter victories of death, that recalled the verse which had been +floating in my head ever since that evening at the Rectory: + + "Jesu, spes poenitentibus, + Quam pius es petentibus! + Quam bonus te quaerentibus! + _Sed quid invenientibus_!" + +The loneliness of my childhood had given me a habit of talking to +myself. I did not know that I had quoted that verse of the old hymn +aloud, till I discovered the fact from hearing afterwards, to my no +small surprise, that Betty had reported that I "made a beautiful +prayer over the corpse." + + * * * * * + +The grim and hideous pomp of the funeral was most oppressive, though +in the abundance of plumes and mutes Mr. Jonathan had, as in the more +graceful tribute of the flowers, honoured his brother nobly after his +manner, which was a commercial one. It was a very expensive "burying." +Alathea did tell me what "the gin and whiskey for the mourners alone +come to," though I have forgotten. But we lost sight of the ignoble +features of the occasion when the sublime office for the Burial of the +Dead began. When it was ended I understood one of Betty's brusque +remarks, which had puzzled me when it came out at breakfast-time. + +"You'll 'ave to take what ye can get for your dinners, gentlemen," she +had said; "for the singers is to meet at three, and I can't pretend to +do more nor I can." + +The women mourners at the funeral (there were a few) all wore large +black silk hoods, which completely disguised them; but at the end of +the service one of them pushed hers back, and I recognized the golden +hair of Alathea, as she joined a group rather formally collected on +one side of the grave. She looked round as if to see that all were +ready, and then in such a soprano voice as one seldom hears, she +"started" the funeral hymn. It was the Old Psalm-- + + "O GOD, our help in ages past, + Our hope for years to come; + + Our shelter from life's stormy blast, + And our eternal home." + +I had heard very little chorus-singing of any kind; and I did not then +know that for the best I had heard--that of St. George's choir at +Windsor--voices were systematically imported from this particular +district. My experience of village singing was confined to the thin +nasal unison psalmody of our school children, and an occasional rustic +stave from a farmer at an agricultural dinner. Great, then, was my +astonishment when the little group broke into the four-part harmony of +a fine chorale. One rarely hears such voices. Betty had a grand +soprano, and on the edge of the group stood a little lad singing like +a bird, in an alto of such sweet pathos as would have made him famous +in any cathedral choir. + +Mr. Jonathan's head drooped lower and lower. Affecting as the hymn was +in my ears, it had for him, no doubt, associations I could not share. +My father moved near him, with an impulse of respectful sympathy. + +To me that one rich voice of harmony spoke as the voice of my old +teacher; and I longed to cry to him in return, "I have made up my +mind. It _is_ worth trying for! It is 'worth any effort, any +struggle.' Our eternal home!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE NEW RECTOR--AUNT MARIA TRIES TO FIND HIM A WIFE--MY FATHER HAS A +SIMILAR CARE FOR ME + + +The stone that marks the burying-place of the Andrewes family taught +me the secret of the special love the Rector bore me. It recorded the +deaths of his wife Margaret, and of his son Reginald. The child was +born in the same year as myself. + +Mr. Jonathan Andrewes came to Dacrefield on business connected with +his brother's affairs, and he accepted my father's hospitality at the +Hall. We seldom met afterwards, and were never intimate; but, slight +as it was, our tie was that of friendship rather than acquaintance. + +The next presentation to the Rectory of Dacrefield was in my father's +gift. He held it alternately with the Bishop, to whom he owed Mr. +Andrewes. He gave it to my old tutor. + +Mr. Clerke's appointment had the rare merit of pleasing everybody. +After he had been settled with us for some weeks, my father said, + +"Mr. Clerke is good enough to be grateful to me for presenting him to +the living, but I do not know how to be grateful enough to him for +accepting it. I really cannot think how I should have endured to see +Andrewes' place filled by some new broom sweeping away every trace of +our dear friend and his ways. Clerke's good taste in the matter is +most delicate, most admirable, and very pleasant to my feelings." + +The truth is there was not a truer mourner for the old Rector than the +new one. "I so little thought I should never see him again," he cried +to me. "I have often felt I did not half avail myself of the privilege +of knowing such a man, when I was here. I have notes of more than a +score of matters, on which I purposed to ask his good counsel, when we +should meet again. And now it will never be." + +"I feel so unworthy to fill his place," he would say. "My only comfort +is in trying to carry out all his plans, and, so far as I can, tread +in his steps." + +In this spirit the new Rector followed the old one, even to becoming +an expert gardener. He bought the old furniture of the Rectory. +Altogether, we were spared those rude evidences of change which are +not the least painful parts of such a loss as ours. + +With the parishioners, I am convinced, that Mr. Clerke was more +popular than Mr. Andrewes had been. They liked him at first for his +reverence for the memory of a pastor they had loved well. I think he +persuaded them, too, that there never could be another Rector equal to +Mr. Andrewes. But in reality I believe he was himself more acceptable. +He was much less able, but also less eccentric and reserved. He was +nearer to the mental calibre of his flock, and not above entering into +parish gossip after a discreet fashion. He was not less zealous than +his predecessor. + +When Aunt Maria came to visit us she gladly renewed acquaintance with +Mr. Clerke, who was a great favourite of hers. I think she imagined +that he was presented to Dacrefield on the strength of her approval. +She used to say to me, "You know Reginald, I always told your father +that Mr. Clerke was a most spiritual preacher." But after seeing him +as Rector of Dacrefield, she added, "He's getting much too 'high.' +Quite like that extraordinary creature you had here before. But it's +always the way with young men." + +Uncle Ascott did not publicly undertake Mr. Clerke's defence, but he +told me: + +"I don't pretend to understand these matters as Maria does, but I can +tell you I never liked any of our London parsons as I like Clerke. +There's something I respect beyond anything in the feeling he has for +your late Rector. And between ourselves, my dear boy, I rather like a +nicely-conducted service." + +So Uncle Ascott and Mr. Clerke were the very best of friends, and my +uncle would go to the Rectory for a quiet smoke, and was always +hospitably received. (Neither my aunt nor my father liked the smell of +tobacco.) Aunt Maria's favour was a little withdrawn. She tried a +delicate remonstrance, but though he was most courteous, it was not to +be mistaken that the Rector of Dacrefield meant to go his own way: +"the way of a better man than I shall ever be," he said. Failing to +change his principles, or guide his practice, my aunt next became +anxious to find him a wife. "Medical men and country parsons ought to +be married," said she, "and it will settle him." + +She selected a young lady of the neighbourhood, the daughter of a +medical man. "Most suitable," said my aunt (by which she meant not +_quite_ up to the standard she would have exacted for a son of her +own), "and with a little money." She patronised this young lady, and +even took her with us one day to lunch at the Rectory; but when she +said something to Mr. Clerke on the subject, she found him utterly +obdurate. "What does he expect, I wonder?" cried my aunt, rather +unfairly, for the Rector had not given utterance to any matrimonial +hopes. She always said, "She never could feel that Mr. Clerke had +behaved well to poor Letitia Ramsay," which used to make downright +Polly very indignant. "He didn't behave badly to her. It was mamma who +always took her everywhere where he was; and how she could stand it, I +don't know! He never flirted with her, Regie." + +The next few years of my life seemed to whirl by. They were very happy +ones. My dear father lived, and our mutual affection only grew +stronger as time went on. + +Then, when I was a man, it gradually dawned upon me, through many +hints, that my father had the same anxiety for me that Aunt Maria had +had for the Rector. He wished me to marry. At one time or another my +fancy had been taken by pretty girls, some of whom were unsuitable in +every respect but prettiness, and some of whom failed to return my +admiration. My dear father would not have dreamed of urging on me a +marriage against my inclinations, but he would have preferred a lady +with some fortune as his daughter-in-law. + +"Our family is an old one, my dear boy," he said, "but the estate is +much smaller than it was in my great-grandfather's time. Don't suppose +that I would have you marry for money alone; but if the lady should be +well portioned, sir, so much the better--so much the better." + +At last he seemed to set his heart upon my having one of Aunt Maria's +daughters. People who live years and years on their own country +estates without going much from home are apt sometimes to fancy that +there is nothing like their own family circle. My father had a great +objection, too, to what he called "modern young ladies." I think he +thought that, as there was no girl left in the world like my poor +mother, I should be safer and happier with one of my cousins. They +were unexceptionably brought up, and would all have considerable +fortunes. + +But though I was very fond of my cousins, I had no wish to choose a +wife from them. They had been more like sisters to me than cousins +from our childhood. At one time, it is true, I was rather sentimental +about Helen. She was the only one of the sisters who was positively +pretty, and her resolute character and unusual tastes roused a +romantic interest in me for a while. When she was twelve years old, +she was found one day by Aunt Maria in the bedroom of a servant who +had fallen ill, and to whom she was attending with the utmost +dexterity. She had a genius for the duties of a sick room, which +developed as she grew up. There were no lady-doctors then, but Helen +was determined to be a hospital nurse. Strongly did Aunt Maria object, +and Helen never defied her wishes in the matter. But she had all Mrs. +Ascott's determination, with more patience. She waited long, but she +followed her vocation at last. + +None of the other girls had any special tastes. The laborious and +expensive education of their childhood did not lead to anything worth +the name of a pursuit, much less a hobby, with any one of them. Of the +happiness of learning, of the exciting interest of an intellectual +hobby, they knew nothing. With much pains and labour they had been +drilled in arts and sciences, in languages and "the usual branches of +an English education." But, apart from social duties and amusements, +the chief occupation of their lives was needlework. I have known many +people who never received proper instruction in music or drawing, who +yet, from what they picked up of either art by their own industry and +intelligence, nearly doubled the happiness of their daily lives. But +in vain had "the first masters" made my cousins glib in chromatic +passages, and dexterous with tricks of effects in colours and crayons. +They played duets after dinner, and Aunt Maria sometimes showed off +the water-colour copies of their school-room days, which, indeed, they +now and then recopied for bazaars; but for their own pleasure they +never touched a note or a pencil. Perhaps real enjoyment only comes +with what one has, to a great extent, taught oneself. Helen had been +her own mistress in the art of nursing, and it was an all-absorbing +interest to her. + +They were very nice girls, and I do not think were entirely to blame +for the small use to which they put their "advantages." They were tall +and lady-like, aquiline-nosed and pleasant-looking, without actual +beauty. It took a wonderful quantity of tarlatan to get them ready for +a ball, a large carriage to hold them, and a small amount of fun to +make them talkative and happy. + +Except Maria, they all inherited my aunt's firmness and decision of +character. Maria, the oldest and largest, was the most yielding. She +had more of Uncle Ascott about her. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +I BELIEVE MYSELF TO BE BROKEN-HEARTED--MARIA IN LOVE--I MAKE AN OFFER +OF MARRIAGE, WHICH IS NEITHER ACCEPTED NOR REFUSED + + +A phase of my life, into which I do not propose to enter, left me +firmly resolved that (as I said in confidence to Clerke) "I shall +marry to please the governor. One doesn't go in for a broken heart, +you know, but it isn't in me to _care_ a second time." + +It was shortly after this that Maria and her mother came to stay at +the Hall. A rather mysterious letter from my aunt had led to the +invitation. It was for the benefit of Maria's health. My father also +invited Polly; she was a favourite with him. Leo and some other +friends were expected for shooting. Our neighbours' houses as well as +ours were filling with visitors, and though I fancied myself a +disappointed man, I found my spirits rising daily. + +My aunt and Maria arrived first: Polly was visiting elsewhere, and was +to join them in a day or two. I was glad to have ladies in the house +again, and after dinner I strolled about the grounds with Maria. She +was looking delicate, but it improved her appearance, and she quite +pleased me by the interest she seemed to take in the place. But I had +seen more of Maria during a visit I paid to London two months before +than usual, and had been quite surprised to find her so well versed +in Dacrefield matters. + +"It's uncommonly pleasant having you here," said I, as we leaned over +a low wall in the garden. "I wonder we do not become perfect +barbarians, cut off as we are from ladies' society. I'm sure I wish +you would settle down here instead of in London. You would civilise +both the Rectory and the Hall." + +I was really thinking of my uncle taking a house in the neighbourhood. +I do not know what Maria was thinking of; but she looked up suddenly +into my face, with a strange expression, as if half inclined to speak. +She said nothing, however, only blushed deeply, and began walking +towards the house. I puzzled for a few minutes over that pathetic look +and blush, but I could make nothing of it, and it passed from my mind +till the next evening after dinner, when, after a little ceremonious +preamble, my father asked if there was "anything between" myself and +my eldest cousin. In explanation of this vague question, he told me +that Maria had been failing in health and spirits for some months; +that my aunt's watchful observation and experience had led her to the +conclusion that Maria was not in a consumption, but in love. As, +however, she kept her own counsel, Mrs. Ascott could only guess in the +matter. From her feverish interest in Dacrefield, her ill-concealed +excitement when the visit was proposed, the improvement in her health +since she came, and a multitude of other small facts which my aunt had +ferreted out and patched together with an ingenuity that amazed me, +Maria was supposed to care for me. + +"We were a good deal together in town, sir," said I, "and Maria was +very jolly with me. But I am sure I gave her no reason to think I was +in love with her, and I don't believe she cares for me. It's one of my +aunt's mare's nests, depend upon it. The poor girl has got a horrid +cough, and, of course, she was pleased to get out of London smoke." + +"If you did care for her," said my father; "and, above all, if you had +led her to think you did, the course is obvious, and I have no doubt +she would make an excellent wife. Polly is my favourite, and Maria is +a year or two older than you. But she is a nice, sensible, well-bred +woman. She is the eldest daughter, and will have--" + +"My dear father," said I, "Maria and I are very friendly as cousins, +but she has not an idea of me in any other than a brotherly relation. +At least I think not," I added, for the look and blush that had +puzzled me came back to my mind. + +"I only mention this because I wished to warn you against trifling +with your cousin's affections if you mean nothing," said my father. + +"I should be sorry to trifle with any lady's affections, sir," was my +reply. We said no more. I sighed, thinking of what I fully believed +had blighted my existence. My father sighed, thinking, I know, of his +own vain wish to see me happily married. At last I could bear it no +longer, and calling Sweep, I went out into the garden. It was +moonlight, and Maria was languidly pacing the terrace. I joined her, +and we strolled away into the shrubbery. + +I cannot say that my father's warning led me to shun Maria's society. +My father and my aunt naturally talked together, and circumstances +almost forced us two into _tete-a-tetes_. I could not fail to see that +Maria liked to be with me, and I found the task of taking care of her +soothing to what I believed to be my blighted feelings. We rode +together (she had an admirable figure and rode well), and the exercise +did her health great good. We often met Mr. Clerke in our rides, and +he seemed to enjoy a canter with us, though he rode very little better +than when I first knew him. We took long walks with Sweep, and from +the oldest tenant to the latest puppy, everything about Dacrefield +seemed to interest my fair cousin. I came at last to believe that Aunt +Maria was right. + +When I did come to believe it (and I do not think that any +contemptible conceit made me hasty to do so), other thoughts followed. +I was as firmly convinced as any other young man with my experiences +that I could never again feel what I had felt for the person who shall +be nameless. But the first bitterness of that agony being undoubtedly +over, I felt that I might find a sober satisfaction in making my +father's declining years happy by giving him a daughter-in-law, and +that I was perhaps hardly justified in allowing Maria to fall into a +consumption when I could prevent it. "There are some people," thought +I, "with whom one could spend life very happily in a quiet fashion; +people who would not offend one's taste, or greatly provoke one's +temper, and whom one feels that one could please in like manner. +_Suitable_ people, in fact. And when a fellow has had his great +heart-ache and it's all over, no doubt suitableness is the thing to +make married life happy.... Maria is suitable." + +I remember well the day I came to this conclusion. Our visitors had +not yet arrived, but Polly was expected the next day, and Leo and some +others shortly. "I may as well get it over before the house is full," +I thought. But, to my vexation, I discovered that my father had asked +Mr. Clerke to come up after dinner. "It's his own fault if I don't get +another chance of speaking," thought I. But, as I strolled sullenly on +the terrace (without Maria) a note arrived from the Rector to say that +he was called away to see a sick man. I dashed into the drawing-room, +gave the letter to my father, and seeing Maria was not there, I went +on into the conservatory. + +There are moments when even plain people look handsome. Notably when +self-consciousness is quite absent, and some absorbing thought gives +sentiment to the face, and grace and power to the figure. It was so at +this moment with Maria, who stood gazing before her, the light from +above falling artistically on her glossy hair and tall, elegant +figure. At the sound of my footsteps she started, and the colour +flooded her face as I came up to her. She sank on to a seat close by, +as if too much agitated to stand. + +"I have something I want to say to you," said I, stooping over her, +and speaking in my gentlest voice. "May I say it?" + +She moved her lips as if trying to speak, but there was no sound, and +she just nodded her head, which then drooped so that I could hardly +see her face. + +"We have known each other since we were children," I began. + +"Yes, Regie dear," murmured Maria. + +"We were always very good friends, I think," continued I. + +"Oh, yes, Regie dear." + +"Childhood was a very happy time," said I, sentimentally. + +"Oh, yes, Regie dear." + +"But we can't be children for ever," I continued. + +"Oh, no, Regie dear." + +"Please take what I am going to say kindly, cousin, whatever you may +think of it." + +"Oh, yes, Regie dear." + +"I hope I may truthfully say that your happiness is, as it ought to +be, my chief aim in the matter." + +Maria's response was inaudible. + +"It's no good beating about the bush," said I, desperately clothing my +sentiments in slang, after the manner of my age; "the fellow who gets +you for a wife, Maria, must be uncommonly fortunate, and I hope that +with a good husband, who made your wishes his first consideration, you +would not be unhappy in married life yourself." + +Lower and lower went her head, but still she was silent. + +"You say nothing," I went on. "Probably I am altogether wrong, and you +are too kind-hearted to tell me I am an impertinent puppy. It is +Dacrefield--the place only--that you honour with your regard. You have +no affection for--" + +Maria did not let me finish this sentence. She put up her hands to +stop me, and seemed as if she wished to speak; but after one pitiful +glance she buried her face in her hands and wept bitterly. I am sure I +have read somewhere that when a woman weeps she is won. So Maria was +mine. I had a grim feeling about it which I cannot describe. "I hope +the governor will be satisfied now," was my thought. + +However, there is nothing I hate more than to see a woman cry. To be +the means of making her cry is intolerable. + +"Please, please, don't! Oh, Maria, what a brute you make me feel. +_Please_ don't," I cried, and raising my cousin from her Niobe-like +attitude, I comforted her as well as I could. She only said, "Oh, +Regie dear, how kind you are," and laid her sleek head against my arm +with an air of rest and trustfulness that touched my generosity to the +quick. What right had I, after all, to accept an affection to which I +could make no similar return? "However," thought I, "it's done now; +and they say it's always more on one side than the other; and at least +I'm a gentleman. I care for no one else, and she shall never know it +was chiefly to please the governor. I suppose it will all come right." + +Whilst I pondered, Maria had dried her eyes, and now sat up, gazing +before her, almost in her old attitude. + +"I wonder, Regie dear," she said, presently--"I wonder how you found +out that I--that we--that I _cared_--" + +"Oh, I don't know," said I, inanely, for I could not say that nothing +could be plainer. + +"I always used to think that to live in this neighbourhood would be +paradise," murmured Maria, looking sentimentally but vacantly into a +box of seedling balsams. + +"I'm very glad you like it," said I. I could not make pretty speeches. +An unpleasant conviction was stealing over my mind that I had been a +fool, and had no one but myself to blame. I began to think that Maria +would not have died of consumption even if I had not proposed to her, +and to doubt if I were really so heartbroken as I had fancied. (Indeed +the society of my cousin, who was a lady, had by this time gone far to +cure me of my sentiment for one who was not, and who had been +sensible enough to marry a man in her own rank of life, to my father's +great relief, and, as I then thought, to my life-long disappointment.) +The whole affair seemed a mockery, and I wished it were a dream. It +was not thus that my father had plighted his troth to my fair mother. +This was not the sort of affection that had made happy the short lives +of Leo's parents. The lemon-scented verbena which I was pounding +between my fingers bitterly recalled a little sketch of the monument +to their memory which Leo had shown me in his Bible, where he had also +pressed a sprig of verbena. Beneath the sketch he had written, "They +were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in death they were not +divided." I remembered his telling me how young they were when they +were married. How his father had never cared for any one else, and how +he would like to do just the same, and marry the one lady of his love. +I began, too, to think Clerke was right when he replied to my +confidences, "I'm only afraid, Regie, that you don't know what love +is." + +It was whilst these thoughts were crowding all too vividly into my +mind that Maria said, impressively, and with unmistakable clearness, + +"After _all_, you know, Regie, he's a _thorough_ gentleman, if he _is_ +poor. I must say _that_! And if he _has_ a profession instead of being +a landed proprietor, it's the _highest_ and _noblest_ profession there +is." + +It seemed to take away my breath. But I was standing almost behind +Maria; she was preoccupied, and I had some presence of mind. I had +opportunity to realize the fact that I was not the object of Maria's +attachment, as I had supposed. I was not poor, I had no profession, +and my common avocations did not, I fear, deserve to be called high +or noble. The description in no way fitted me. Further still, it was +evident that my cousin had not dreamed that I was making her an offer. +She believed that I had discovered her attachment to some other man, +and was grateful for my sympathy. I did not undeceive her. After a +rapid review of the position, I said, + +"But my dear Maria, though I have penetrated to the fact that you have +a secret, and though I want beyond anything to help and comfort you, I +do not yet know who the happy man is, remember." + +"Don't you?" said Maria, looking up hastily, and the colour rushed to +her face as before. "Oh, I thought you knew it was Mr. Clerke. You +know, he _is_ so good, and I've known him so long." + +At this moment Aunt Maria's voice called from the drawing-room end of +the conservatory. + +"Will you give us a little music, Maria? Mr. Clerke has come after +all, and Bowles has brought in the tea." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE FUTURE LADY DAMER--POLLY HAS A SECRET--UNDER THE MULBERRY-TREE + + +Polly came into the house, as she always did, like a sunbeam. Mrs. +Bundle, who was getting old, and apt to be depressed in spirits from +time to time, always revived when "Miss Mary" paid us a visit. A +general look of welcome greeted her appearance in church on Sunday. My +father made no secret of his pleasure in her society. I think she was +in the secret of her sister's engagement, and Maria looked comforted +by her coming. + +Our meals were now quite merry. We had plenty of family gossip, and +news of the neighbourhood to chat over. + +"So Lady Damer that is to be is coming to the Towers," Maria announced +at breakfast, on the authority of a letter she was reading. "Leo is +coming here to shoot, isn't he, Regie?" + +"We expect him every day," said I; "but I never knew he was engaged. +Who is it?" + +"Well, it's not an announced engagement," said Maria, "but everybody +says it is to be. She is an heiress, and her father was an old friend +of his guardian's. And, by-the-bye, Regie, her sister is coming too, +and will do beautifully for you. She is co-heiress, you know. They're +really very rich, and your one is lovely." + +"I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you," said I, "and we are to dine +at the Towers next week, so I shall see the heiresses. But suppose I +take a fancy to the wrong one?" + +"You can't have her," said Maria, laughing. + +"I tell you she is for Leo, and she is very clever and strong-minded, +which is just what he wants--a wife who can take care of him." + +"Oh, deliver me from a strong-minded lady!" I cried. "Damer is quite +welcome to her." + +"Your one isn't a bit strong-minded," said Maria. "She is very pretty, +but has no will of her own at all. She leans completely on Frances; I +don't know what she'll do when she marries, for they have been orphans +since they were quite children, and have never lived apart for a +week." + +At this point Polly broke in with even more warmth and directness of +speech than usual, + +"Frances Chislett is the most superior girl I ever knew. Men always +laugh at strong-minded women; but I'm sure I don't know why. I can't +think how any human being with duties and responsibilities can be +either more useful or more agreeable for being weak-minded." + +And this was all that Polly contributed to our nonsensical +conversation about the heiresses. + +After she came I forsook the society of Maria. I knew now that she +only wanted to talk to me about the Rector and the parish. Besides, +though Maria was strongly interested in Dacrefield for Clerke's sake, +she knew much less of it than Polly, with whom I revisited numberless +haunts of our childhood, the barns and stables, the fernery, the +"Pulpit" and the "Pew." + +I did not tell her of my romance with Maria. I was not proud of it. +But as we sat together in the old apple-room above the stables, I +confided to her my "unfortunate attachment," which I had now +sufficiently recovered from not to be offended by her opinion, that it +was all for the best that it had ended as it had. + +I do not remember exactly how it was that I came to know that +Polly--even Polly--had her own private heart-ache. I think I took an +unfair advantage of her strict truthfulness, when I once suspected +that she had a secret, and insisted upon her confiding in me as I had +done in her. Nurse Bundle gave me the first hint. Mrs. Bundle, +however, believed that "Miss Mary" was only waiting for me to ask her +to be mistress of Dacrefield Hall. And though she had "never seen the +young lady that was good enough for her boy," she graciously allowed +that I might "do worse than marry Miss Mary." + +"My time's pretty near come, my dear," said Mrs. Bundle, "but many's +the time I pray the Lord to let me live to put in if it is but a pin, +when your lady dresses for her wedding." + +But I was not to be fooled a second time by the affectionate belief my +friends had in my attractions. + +"My dear old Nursey," said I, squatting down with Sweep by her easy +chair, "I know what a dear girl Polly is, and if she wanted to be Mrs. +Dacre she soon should be. But you're quite mistaken there; she is my +dear sister, and always will be so, and never anything else." + +"Well, well," said Nurse Bundle, "young folks know their own affairs +better than the old ones, and the Lord above knows what's good for us +all, but I'm a great age, and the Squire's not young, and taking the +liberty to name us together, my deary, in all reason it would be a +blessing to him and me to see you happy with a lady as fit to take +your dear mother's place as Miss Mary is. For let alone everything +else, my dear, servants is not what they used to be, and when I'm dead +you'll be cheated out of house and home, without any one as knows what +goes to the keeping of a family, and what don't." + +"Well, Nursey," said I, "I'll try and find a lady to please you and +the governor. But it won't be Polly, I know, and I wish it may be any +one as good." + +I bullied poor Polly sadly about having a secret, and not confiding it +to me. She was far from expert at dissembling, and never told an +untruth, so I soon drove her into a corner. + +"I'm rather disappointed, I must confess, in one way," said I, having +found her unable flatly to deny that she did "care for" somebody. "I +always hoped, somehow, that you and Leo would make it up together." + +"You heard what Maria said," said Polly, shortly. + +"Oh, I don't believe in the heiress," said I, "unless you've refused +him. He'd never take up with the blue-stocking lady and her money-bags +if his old love would have had him." + +"I wish you wouldn't call her names," said Polly, angrily. "I tell you +she's the best girl I ever knew. I don't care much for most girls; +they are so silly. I suppose you'll say that's envy, but I can't help +it, it's true. But Frances Chislett never bores me. She only makes me +ashamed of myself, and long to be like her. When she's with me I feel +rough, and ignorant, and useless, and--" + +"What a soothing companion!" I broke in. + +"Poor Damer! So you want him to marry her, as one takes nasty +medicine--all for his good." + +"Want him to marry her!" repeated Polly, expressively. "No. But I am +satisfied that he should marry _her_. So long as he is really happy, +and his wife is worthy of him--and _she_ is worthy of him--" + +A light dawned upon me, and I interrupted her. + +"Why, Polly, it _is_ Leo that you care for!" + +We were sitting under an old mulberry-tree near the gate, in the +kitchen garden, but when I said this Polly jumped up and tried to run +away. I caught her hand to detain her, and we were standing very much +in the attitude of the couple in a certain sentimental print entitled +"The Last Appeal," when the gate close by us opened, and my father put +his head into the garden, shouting "James! James!" I dropped Polly's +hand, and struck by the same idea, we both blushed ludicrously; for +the girls knew as well as I did the plans made on our behalf by our +respective parents. + +"The men are at dinner, sir," said I, going towards my father. "Can I +do anything?" + +"Not at all--not at all; don't let me disturb you," said the old +gentleman, with an unmistakably pleased expression of countenance. And +turning to blushing Polly, he added in his most gracious tones, + +"You look charming, my dear, standing under that old mulberry-tree, in +your pretty dress. It was planted by my grandfather, your +great-grandfather, my love, and Regie's also. I wish I could have you +painted so. Quite a picture--quite a picture!" + +Saying which, and waving off my attempts to follow him, he bowed +himself out and shut the door behind him. When he had gone, Polly and +I looked at each other, and then burst out laughing. + +"The plot certainly thickens," said I, sitting down again. "I beg you +to listen to the gratified parent whistling as he retires. What shall +we do, Polly, how could you blush so?" + +"How could I help it when I saw you get so red?" said Polly. + +"We certainly are a wonderful family at this point," said I; "the +whole lot of us in a mess with our love affairs, and my aunt and the +governor off on completely wrong scents." + +"Oh, I think everybody's the same," said Polly, picking off half-ripe +mulberries and flinging them hither and thither; "but that doesn't +make one any better pleased with oneself for being a fool." + +"You're not a fool," said I, pulling her down to the seat again; "but +I wish you wouldn't be cross when you're unhappy. Look at me. +Disappointment has made me sympathetic instead of embittering me. But, +seriously, Polly, I'm sure you and Leo will come all right, and in the +general rejoicing your mother must let Clerke and poor Maria be happy. +Even I might have found consolation with the beautiful heiress if I +had been left to find out her merits for myself; but one gets rather +tired of having young ladies suggested to one by attentive friends. +The fact is, matrimony is not in my line. I feel awfully old. The +governor is years younger than I am. Whoever saw _me_ trouble _my_ +long legs and back to perform such a bow as he gave you just now? I +wish he'd leave me in peace with Sweep. Since the day I came of age, +when every old farmer in the place wound up his speech with something +about the future Mrs. Reginald Dacre, I've had no quiet of my life for +her. Clerke too! I really did think Clerke was a confirmed old +bachelor, on ecclesiastical grounds. I wish I'd gone fishing to +Norway. I wish a bit of the house would fall down. If the governor +were busy with real brick and mortar, he wouldn't build so many +castles in the air, perhaps." + +As I growled, Sweep, beneath my feet, growled also. I believe it was +sympathy, but lest it should be the approach of Aunt Maria (whom Sweep +detested), Polly and I thought well to withdraw from the garden by +another gate. We returned to the house, and I took her to my den to +find a book to divert her thoughts. I was not surprised that a long +search ended in her choosing a finely-bound copy of Young's "Night +Thoughts." + +"I often feel ashamed of knowing so little of our standard poets," she +remarked parenthetically. + +"Quite so," said I; "but I feel it right to mention that the marks in +it are only mine." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +I MEET THE HEIRESS--I FIND MYSELF MISTAKEN ON MANY POINTS--A NEW KNOT +IN THE FAMILY COMPLICATIONS + + +Leo came to the Hall. "His" heiress came to the Towers, but not +"mine." She was to follow shortly. + +I could not make out how matters stood between Leo and Polly. When +Damer came, Polly was three times as _brusque_ with him as with any of +us; he himself seemed dreamy, and just as usual. + +We went to dine at the Towers. We were rather late. Leo, in right of +his rank, took a dowager of position in to dinner. Our host led me +across the room, and introduced me to "Miss Chislett." + +[Illustration: It was only a quiet dinner party, and Miss Chislett had +brought out her needlework.] + +She was not the sort of person I expected. It just flashed across me +that I understood something of Polly's remark about Frances Chislett +making her feel "rough." My cousins were ladies in every sense of the +term, but Miss Chislett had a certain perfection of courteous grace +and dignified refinement, in every word, and gesture, and attitude, as +utterly natural to her as the vigorous tread of any barefooted peasant +girl, and which one does meet with (but by no means invariably) among +women of the highest class in England. Her dignity fell short of +haughtiness (which is not high breeding, and is very easy of +assumption); her grace and courtesy were the simple results of +constant and skilful consideration for other people, and of a +self-respect sufficient to dispense with self-consciousness. The +advantage of wealth was evident in the exquisite taste and general +effect of her costume. She was not beautiful, and yet I felt disposed +for an angry argument with my cousins on the subject of her looks. Her +head was nobly shaped, her figure was tall and beautiful, her grey +eyes haunted one. I never took any lady to dinner who gave me so +little trouble. When we had been together for two minutes, I felt as +if I had known her for years. + +"Well, what do you think of her?" said Polly, when we met in the +drawing-room. Polly had been taken in by Mr. Clerke, and they had +neither of them paid much attention to what the other was saying. +Maria had said "yes" and "no" alternately to the observations of the +elderly and Honourable Mr. Edward Glynn; but as he was deaf this +mattered the less. + +"Was I right?" said Polly. + +"No," said I; "she's not a bit strong-minded." Polly laughed. + +"I'll say one thing for her," said I; "I don't mind how often I take +her in to dinner. She doesn't expect you to make conversation." + +"Why, my dear Regie," said Polly, "you've been talking the whole of +dinner-time!" + +Leo had seated himself by the heiress. Poor Polly's eyes kept +wandering towards them, and (I suppose, because I had heard so much +about her) so did mine. It was only a quiet dinner-party, and Miss +Chislett had brought out her needlework, some gossamer lace affair, +and Leo leant over the sofa where she sat, playing with the contents +of her workbox. Polly's eyes and mine were not the only ones turned +towards them. Ours was not the only interest in the future Lady Damer. + +Aunt Maria carried Polly off to the piano to "give us a little music," +and I sat down and stultified myself with an album at the table, and +Frances Chislett chatted with Sir Lionel. They were close by me, and +every word they said was audible. It was the veriest chit-chat, and +Leo's remarks on the little bunch of charms and knicknacks that he +found in the workbox seemed trivial to foolishness. "I'd no idea Damer +was so empty-headed," I thought, and I rather despised Miss Chislett +for smiling at his feeble conversation. + +"I often wonder what's the use of farthings," I heard him say as he +turned one over in the bunch of knicknacks. "They won't buy anything +(unless it's a box of matches). They only help tradesmen to cheat when +they're 'selling off.'" + +"I beg your pardon," said Miss Chislett, "I have bought most charming +things for a farthing each." + +"So have I," said I, turning round on my chair, and joining in the +conversation, which seemed less purposeless after I began to take part +in it. Leo looked at us both with a puzzled air. + +"Frying-pans, for instance," said Miss Chislett. + +"--and gridirons," said I. + +"Plates, knives, and forks," said the heiress. + +"--and flat irons," I concluded; playing involuntarily with the blob +of lead which still hung at my watch-chain. + +Polly had finished her performance, and was now standing near us. She +understood the allusion, and laughed. + +"Do _you_ know what they're talking about?" asked Sir Lionel, going +up to her. I sat down by the heiress. + +"Were you ever at Oakford?" she asked, turning her grey eyes on me. +She spoke almost abruptly, and with a touch of imperiousness that +suddenly recalled to me where I had seen those eyes before. + +"Certainly," said I, "and at the tinsmith's." + +"What were you doing there?" she asked, and after all these years +there was no mistaking the accent and gesture of the little lady of +the grey beaver. Before she had well begun her apology for the +question, I had answered it, + + "BUYING A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING." + + * * * * * + +"Well, you've gone it hard to-night, old fellow," said Damer, as we +drove away from the Towers. "You and Miss Chislett will be county talk +for six months to come." + +"Nonsense," said I, "we knew each other years ago, and had a good deal +to talk about." + +But to Polly, as we parted for the night in the corridor, I said, "My +dear child, to add to all the family complications, I'm head over ears +in love with the future Lady Damer." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +MY LADY FRANCES--THE FUTURE LADY DAMER--WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER AT +LAST + + +It was true. My theories and my disappointment went to the winds. We +had few common acquaintances or social interests to talk about, and +yet the time we spent together never seemed long enough for our fluent +conversation. We had always a thousand things to say when we met, and +feeling as if we had been together all our lives, I felt also utterly +restless and wretched when I was not with her. Of course, I learnt her +history. She and her sister were the little ladies I had seen in my +childhood. The St. John family were their cousins, and as the boy, of +whom mention has been made, did die in Madeira, the property +eventually came to Frances Chislett and her sister. The estate was +sold, and they were co-heiresses. Adeline, the other sister, soon came +to the Towers. She was more like her old self than Frances. The +exquisitely, strangely fair hair, the pale-blue eyes, the gentle +helpless look, all were the same. She was very lovely, but Frances was +like no other woman I had ever seen before, or have ever met with +since. I resolved to ask Lionel Damer how matters really stood between +them, and, if he were not engaged to her, to try my luck. One day when +she was with us at the Hall I decided upon this. I was told that +Lionel was in the library, and went to seek him. As I opened the door +I saw him standing in front of Polly, who was standing also. He was +speaking with an energy rare with him, and in a tone of voice quite +strange to me. + +"It's not like you to say what's not true," he was saying. "You are +_not_ well, you are _not_ happy. You may deceive every one else, +Polly, but you can never deceive me. All these years, ever since I +first knew you--" + +I stole out, shut the door, and went to seek Frances. I found her by +Rubens' grave, and there we plighted our troth. + + * * * * * + +It was in the evening of the same day that Polly and I met in the +hall, on our way to attempt the difficult task of dressing for dinner +in five minutes. The grey-eyed lady of my love had just left me for +the same purpose, and I was singing, I don't know what, at the top of +my voice in pure blitheness of heart. Polly and I fairly rushed into +each other's arms. + +"My dear child!" said I, swinging her madly round, "I am delirious +with delight, and so is Sweep, for she kissed his nose." + +Poor Polly buried her head on my shoulder, saying, + +"And, oh, Regie! I _am_ so happy!" + +It was thus that my father and Aunt Maria found us. Fate, spiteful at +our happiness, had sent my father, stiff with an irreproachable +neckcloth, and Aunt Maria, rustling in amber silk and black laces, +towards the drawing-room, five minutes too early for dinner, but just +in time to catch us in the most sentimental of attitudes, and to hear +dear, candid, simple-hearted Polly's outspoken confession--"I _am_ so +happy!" + +"And how long are you going to keep your happiness to yourselves, +young people?" said my father, whose face beamed with a satisfaction +more sedately reflected in Aunt Maria's countenance. "Do you grudge +the old folks a share? Eh, sir? eh?" + +And the old gentleman pinched my shoulder, and clapped me on the back. +He was positively playful. + +"Stop, my dear father," said I, "you're mistaken." + +"Eh, what?" said my father, and Aunt Maria drew her laces round her +and prepared for war. + +"Polly and I are not engaged, sir, if that's what you think," said I, +desperately. + +My father and Aunt Maria both opened their mouths at once. + +"Dinner's on the table, sir," the butler announced. My father lacked a +subject for his vexation, and turned upon old Bowles: + +"Take the dinner to ----" + +"--the kitchen," said I, "and keep it warm for ten minutes; we are not +ready. Now, my dear father, come to my room, for I have something to +tell you." + +There was no need for Polly to ask Aunt Maria to go with her. That +lady drove her daughter before her to her bedroom, with a severity of +aspect which puzzled and alarmed poor Leo, whom they passed in the +corridor. A blind man could have told by the rustle of her dress that +Mrs. Ascott would have a full explanation before she broke bread again +at our table. + +I fancy she was not severe upon the future Lady Damer, when Polly's +tale was told. + +As to my father, he was certainly vexed and put out at first. But day +by day my lady-love won more and more of his heart. One evening, a +week later, he disappeared mysteriously after dinner, and then +returned to the dining-room, carrying some old morocco cases. + +"My dear boy," he said, in an almost faltering voice, "I never dared +to hope my dear wife's diamonds would be so worthily worn by yours. +Your choice has made an old man very happy, sir. For a thoroughly +high-bred tone, for intelligence, indeed, I may say, brilliancy of +mind, and for every womanly grace and virtue, I have seen no one to +approach her since your mother's death. I should have loved little +Polly very much, but your choice has been a higher one--more +refined--more refined. For, strictly between ourselves, my dear boy, +our dear little Polly has, now and then, just a thought too much of +your Aunt Maria about her." + +The Rector and Maria were made happy. My father "carried it through," +by my desire. Uncle Ascott was delighted, and became a benefactor to +the parish; but it took Aunt Maria some years to forget that the +patronised curate had scorned the wife she had provided for him, only +to marry her own daughter. + +When I bade farewell to Adeline on our wedding day, she gave me her +cheek to kiss with a pretty grace, saying, + +"You see, Regie, I _am_ your sister after all!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +WE COME HOME--MRS. BUNDLE QUITS SERVICE + + +The day my wife and I returned from our wedding trip to Dacrefield was +a very happy one. We had a triumphal welcome from the tenants, my dear +father was beaming, the Rector no less so, and good old Nurse Bundle +showered blessings on the head of my bride. + +Frances was a great favourite with her. She was devoted to the old +woman, and her delicate tact made her adapt herself to all Mrs. +Bundle's peculiarities. She sat with her in the nursery that night +till nearly dinner-time. + +"I must take her away, Nursey," said I, coming in; "she'll be late for +dinner." + +"Go with your husband, my dear," said Nurse Bundle, "and the Lord +bless you both." + +"I'll come back, Nursey," said Frances; "you'll soon see me again." + +"Turn your face, my dear," said Nurse Bundle. "Hold up the candle, +Master Reginald. Ay, ay, that'll do, my deary. I'll see you again." + +We were still at dessert with my father, when Bowles came hastily into +the room with a pale face, and went up to my wife. + +"Did you send for Mrs. Bundle, ma'am, since you came down to dinner?" +he asked. + +"Oh, dear no," said my wife. + +"Cook was going upstairs, and met Missis Bundle a little way out of +her room," Bowles explained; "and Missis Bundle she says, 'Don't stop +me,' says she, 'Mrs. Dacre wants me,' she says, and on she goes; and +cook waits and waits in her room for her, and at last she comes down +to me, and she says--" + +"But where _is_ Mrs. Bundle?" cried my father. + +"That's circumstantially what nobody knows, sir," said Bowles with a +distracted air. + +We all three rushed upstairs. Mrs. Bundle was not to be found. My +father was frantic; my wife with tears lamented that some chance word +of hers might have led the half-childish old lady to fancy that she +wanted her. + +But a sudden conviction had seized upon me. + +"You need not trouble yourself, my darling," said I; "you are not the +Mrs. Dacre Nurse Bundle went to seek." + +I ran to my father's dressing-room. It was as I thought. + +Below my mother's portrait, on the spot where years before she had +held me in her arms with tears, I, weeping also, held her now in +mine--quite dead. + +THE END + + * * * * * + + + + +The Queen's Treasures Series + +_Small Crown 8vo. With 8 Coloured Plates and Decorated Title-Page, +Covers, and End-Papers_. + +_2s. 6d. net each_. + + +COUSIN PHILLIS. + +By MRS. GASKELL. Illustrated by MISS M. V. WHEELHOUSE. With an +introduction by THOMAS SECCOMBE. + + +SIX TO SIXTEEN. + +By MRS. EWING. Illustrated by MISS M. V. WHEELHOUSE. + + +A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING. + +By MRS. EWING. Illustrated by MISS M. V. WHEELHOUSE. [_Nov_. 1908. + + +JAN OF THE WINDMILL. + +By MRS. EWING. Illustrated by MISS M. V. WHEELHOUSE. [_Jan_. 1909. + + +_Others to follow_. + + +LONDON: GEORGE BELL & SONS + + * * * * * + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Flat Iron for a Farthing, by +Juliana Horatia Ewing + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING *** + +***** This file should be named 19859.txt or 19859.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/8/5/19859/ + +Produced by Kathryn Lybarger, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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