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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Not Like Other Girls, by Rosa N. Carey
+
+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: Not Like Other Girls
+
+Author: Rosa N. Carey
+
+Release Date: March 31, 2009 [EBook #28463]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS
+
+BY
+
+ROSA N. CAREY
+
+AUTHOR OF
+
+"Aunt Diana," "Averil," "Lover or Friend," "Merle's Crusade,"
+"Esther," "Mary St. John," "Queenie's Whim," "We Wifie," Etc., Etc.
+
+CHICAGO
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY
+
+407-429 Dearborn Street
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+M.A. DONOHUE & CO.
+CHICAGO.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+  CHAPTER                                                         PAGE
+       I. Five-o'clock Tea.                                          7
+      II. Dick objects to the Mountains.                            14
+     III. Mr. Mayne makes Himself Disagreeable.                     22
+      IV. Dick's Fête.                                              28
+       V. "I am Quite Sure of Him."                                 35
+      VI. Mr. Trinder's Visit.                                      41
+     VII. Phillis's Catechism.                                      48
+    VIII. "We should have to carry Parcels."                        55
+      IX. A Long Day.                                               62
+       X. The Friary.                                               68
+      XI. "Tell us all about it, Nan."                              77
+     XII. "Laddie" puts in an Appearance.                           85
+    XIII. "I must have Grace."                                      91
+     XIV. "You can dare to tell me These Things."                   99
+      XV. A Van in the Braidwood Road.                             108
+     XVI. A Visit to the White House.                              118
+    XVII. "A Friend in Need."                                      124
+   XVIII. Dorothy brings in the Best China.                        132
+     XIX. Archie is in a Bad Humor.                                139
+      XX. "You are Romantic."                                      147
+     XXI. Breaking the Peace.                                      154
+    XXII. "Trimmings, not Squails."                                162
+   XXIII. "Bravo, Atalanta!"                                       167
+    XXIV. Mothers are Mothers.                                     174
+     XXV. Mattie's New Dress.                                      181
+    XXVI. "Oh, You are Proud!"                                     189
+   XXVII. A Dark Hour.                                             196
+  XXVIII. The Mysterious Stranger.                                 202
+    XXIX. Mrs. Williams's Lodger.                                  210
+     XXX. "Now we understand Each Other."                          219
+    XXXI. Dick thinks of the City.                                 226
+   XXXII. "Dick is to be our Real Brother."                        232
+  XXXIII. "This is Life and Death to Me."                          240
+   XXXIV. Miss Mewlstone has an Interruption.                      248
+    XXXV. "Barby, don't You recollect Me?"                         255
+   XXXVI. Motes in the Sunshine.                                   262
+  XXXVII. "A Man has a Right to His Own Thoughts."                 268
+ XXXVIII. About Nothing Particular.                                277
+   XXXIX. "How do you do, Aunt Catherine?"                         283
+      XL. Alcides.                                                 292
+     XLI. Sir Harry Bides his Time.                                299
+    XLII. "Come, now, I call that Hard."                           307
+   XLIII. "I will write no such Letter."                           315
+    XLIV. Mr. Mayne orders a Basin of Gruel.                       321
+     XLV. An Uninvited Guest.                                      328
+    XLVI. A New Invasion of the Goths.                             336
+   XLVII. "It was so Good of You to ask me Here."                  343
+  XLVIII. Mrs. Sparsit's Poodle.                                   349
+    XLIX. Mattie in a New Character.                               356
+       L. Phillis's Favorite Month.                                362
+
+
+
+
+NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA.
+
+
+Five-o'clock tea was a great institution in Oldfield.
+
+It was a form of refreshment to which the female inhabitants of that
+delightful place were strongly addicted. In vain did Dr. Weatherby,
+the great authority in all that concerned the health of the
+neighborhood, lift up his voice against the mild feminine
+dram-drinking of these modern days, denouncing it in no measured
+terms: the ladies of Oldfield listened incredulously, and, softly
+quoting Cowper's lines as to the "cup that cheers and not inebriates,"
+still presided over their dainty little tea-tables, and vied with one
+another in the beauty of their china and the flavor of their
+highly-scented Pekoe.
+
+In spite of Dr. Weatherby's sneers and innuendoes, a great deal of
+valuable time was spent in lingering in one or another of the pleasant
+drawing-rooms of the place. As the magic hour approached, people
+dropped in casually. The elder ladies sipped their tea and gossiped
+softly; the younger ones, if it were summer-time, strolled out through
+the open windows into the garden. Most of the houses had
+tennis-grounds, and it was quite an understood thing that a game
+should be played before they separated.
+
+With some few exceptions, the inhabitants of Oldfield were wealthy
+people. Handsome houses standing in their own grounds were dotted here
+and there among the lanes and country roads. Some of the big houses
+belonged to very big people indeed; but these were aristocrats who
+only lived in their country houses a few months in the year, and whose
+presence added more to the dignity than to the hilarity of the
+neighborhood.
+
+With these exceptions, the Oldfield people were highly gregarious and
+hospitable; in spite of a few peculiarities, they had their good
+points; a great deal of gossip prevailed, but it was in the main
+harmless and good-natured. There was a wonderful simplicity of dress,
+too, which in these days might be termed a cardinal virtue. The girls
+wore their fresh cambrics and plain straw hats: no one seemed to
+think it necessary to put on smart clothing when they wished to visit
+their friends. People said this Arcadian simplicity was just as
+studied: nevertheless, it showed perfection of taste and a just
+appreciation of things.
+
+The house that was considered the most attractive in Oldfield, and
+where, on summer afternoons, the sound of youthful voices and laughter
+were the loudest, was Glen Cottage, a small white house adjoining the
+long village street, belonging to a certain Mrs. Challoner, who lived
+here with her three daughters.
+
+This may be accounted strange in the first instance, since the
+Challoners were people of the most limited income,--an income so small
+that nothing but the most modest of entertainments could be furnished
+to their friends; very different from their neighbors at Longmead, the
+large white house adjoining, where sumptuous dinners and regular
+evening parties were given in the dark days when pleasures were few
+and tennis impossible.
+
+People said it was very good-natured of the Maynes; but then when
+there is an only child in the case, an honest, pleasure-loving, gay
+young fellow, on whom his parents dote, what is it they will not do to
+please their own flesh and blood? and, as young Richard Mayne--or
+Dick, as he was always called--loved all such festive gatherings, Mrs.
+Mayne loved them too; and her husband tried to persuade himself that
+his tastes lay in the same direction, only reserving certain groans
+for private use, that Dick could not be happy without a houseful of
+young people.
+
+But no such entertainments were possible at Glen Cottage:
+nevertheless, the youth of the neighborhood flocked eagerly into the
+pleasant drawing-room where Mrs. Challoner sat tranquilly summer and
+winter to welcome her friends, or betook themselves through the open
+French windows into the old-fashioned garden, in which mother and
+daughters took such pride.
+
+On hot afternoons the tea-table was spread under an acacia-tree, low
+wicker-chairs were brought out, and rugs spread on the lawn, and Nan
+and her sisters dispensed strawberries and cream, with the delicious
+home-made bread and butter; while Mrs. Challoner sat among a few
+chosen spirits knitting and talking in her pleasant low-toned voice,
+quite content that the burden of responsibility should rest upon her
+daughters.
+
+Mrs. Challoner always smiled when people told her that she ought to be
+proud of her girls. No daughters were ever so much to their mother as
+hers; she simply lived in and for them; she saw with their eyes,
+thought with their thoughts,--was hardly herself at all, but Nan and
+Phillis and Dulce, each by turns.
+
+Long ago they had grown up to her growth. Mrs. Challoner's nature was
+hardly a self-sufficing one. During her husband's lifetime she had
+been braced by his influence and cheered by his example, and had
+sought to guide her children according to his directions; in a word,
+his manly strength had so supported her that no one, not even her
+shrewd young daughters, guessed at the interior weakness.
+
+When her stay was removed, Mrs. Challoner ceased to guide, and came
+down to her children's level. She was more like their sister than
+their mother, people said; and yet no mother was more cherished than
+she.
+
+Her very weakness made her sacred in her daughters' eyes; her
+widowhood, and a certain failure of health, made her the subject of
+their choicest care.
+
+It could not be said that there was much amiss, but years ago a doctor
+whom Mrs. Challoner had consulted had looked grave, and mentioned the
+name of a disease of which certain symptoms reminded him. There was no
+ground for present apprehension; the whole thing was very shadowy and
+unsubstantial,--a mere hint,--a question of care; nevertheless the
+word had been said, and the mischief done.
+
+From that time Mrs. Challoner was wont to speak gloomily of her
+health, as of one doomed. She was by nature languid and lymphatic, but
+now her languor increased; always averse to effort, she now left all
+action to her daughters. It was they who decided and regulated the
+affairs of their modest household, and rarely were such wise young
+rulers to be found in girls of their age. Mrs. Challoner merely
+acquiesced, for in Glen Cottage there was seldom a dissentient voice,
+unless it were that of Dorothy, who had been Dulce's nurse, and took
+upon herself the airs of an old servant who could not be replaced.
+
+They were all pretty girls, the three Misses Challoner, but Nan was
+_par excellence_ the prettiest. No one could deny that fact who saw
+them together. Her features were more regular than her sisters', and
+her color more transparent. She was tall too, and her figure had a
+certain willowy grace that was most uncommon; but what attracted
+people most was a frankness and unconsciousness of manner that was
+perfectly charming.
+
+Phillis, the second sister, was not absolutely pretty, perhaps, but
+she was nice-looking, and there was something in her expression that
+made people say she was clever; she could talk on occasions with a
+fluency that was quite surprising, and that would cast Nan into the
+shade. "If I were only as clever as Phillis!" Nan would sigh.
+
+Then there was Dulce, who was only just eighteen, and whom her sisters
+treated as the family pet; who was light and small and nimble in her
+movements, and looked even younger than she really was.
+
+Nobody ever noticed if Dulce were pretty; and one questioned if her
+features were regular or not, or cared to do such a thing. Only when
+she smiled, the prettiest dimple came into her cheek, and her eyes had
+a fearless child-like look in them; for the rest, she was just Dulce.
+
+The good-looking daughters of a good-looking mother, as somebody
+called them; and there was no denying Mrs. Challoner was still
+wonderfully well preserved, and, in spite of her languor and invalid
+airs, a very pretty woman.
+
+Five-o'clock tea had long been over at the cottage this afternoon, and
+a somewhat lengthy game of tennis had followed; after which the
+visitors had dispersed as usual, and the girls had come in to prepare
+for the half-past seven-o'clock dinner; for Glen Cottage followed the
+fashion of its richer neighbors, and set out its frugal meal with a
+proper accompaniment of flower-vases and evening toilet.
+
+The three sisters came up the lawn together, but Nan carried her
+racquet a little languidly; she looked a trifle grave.
+
+Mrs. Challoner laid down her knitting and looked at them, and then she
+regarded her watch plaintively.
+
+"Is it late, mother?" asked Nan, who never missed any of her mother's
+movements. "Ten minutes past seven! No wonder the afternoon seemed
+long."
+
+"No one found it long but Nan," observed Dulce, with an arch glance at
+her sister at which Nan slightly colored, but took no further notice.
+"By the bye," she continued, as though struck by a sudden
+recollection, "what can have become of Dick this afternoon? he so
+seldom fails us without telling us beforehand."
+
+"That will soon be explained," observed Phillis, oracularly, as the
+gate-bell sounded, and was immediately followed by sharp footsteps on
+the gravel and the unceremonious entrance of a young man through the
+open window.
+
+"Better late than never," exclaimed two of the girls. Nan said, "Why,
+what has made you play truant, Dick?" in a slightly injured voice. But
+Mrs. Challoner merely smiled at him, and said nothing; young men were
+her natural enemies, and she knew it. She was civil to them and
+endured their company, and that was all.
+
+Dick Mayne was not a formidable-looking individual; he was a strong,
+thick-set young fellow, with broad shoulders, not much above middle
+height, and decidedly plain, except in his mother's eyes; and she
+thought even Dick's sandy hair beautiful.
+
+But in spite of his plainness he was a pleasant, well-bred young
+fellow, with a fund of good humor and drollery, and a pair of honest
+eyes that people learned to trust. Every one liked him, and no one
+ever said a word in his dispraise; and for the rest, he could
+tyrannize as royally as any other young man who is his family's sole
+blessing.
+
+"It was all my ill luck," grumbled Dick. "Trevanion of Exeter came
+over to our place, and of course the mater pressed him to stay for
+luncheon, and then nothing would do but a long walk over Hillberry
+Downs."
+
+"Why did you not bring him here?" interrupted Dulce, with a pout. "You
+tiresome Dick, when you must know what a godsend a strange young man
+is in these wilds!"
+
+"My dear!" reproved her mother.
+
+"Oh, but it is true, mamma," persisted the outspoken Dulce. "Think how
+pleased Carrie and Sophy Paine would have been at the sight of a fresh
+face! it was horrid of you, sir!"
+
+"I wanted him to come," returned the young man, in a deprecating
+voice. "I told him how awfully jolly it always is here, and that he
+would be sure to meet a lot of nice people, but there was no
+persuading him: he wanted a walk and a talk about our fellows. That is
+the worst of Trevanion, he always will have his own way."
+
+"Never mind," returned Nan, pleasantly; she seemed to have recovered
+her sprightliness all at once. "It is very good of you to come so
+often; and we had Mr. Parker and his cousin to look after the
+Paines."
+
+"Oh, yes! we did very well," observed Phillis, tranquilly. "Mother,
+now Dick has come so late, he had better stay."
+
+"If I only may do so?" returned Dick; but his inquiry was directed to
+Nan.
+
+"Oh, yes, you may stay," she remarked, carelessly, as she moved away;
+but there was a little pleased smile on her face that he failed to
+see. She nodded pleasantly to him as he darted forward to open the
+door. It was Nan who always dispensed the hospitalities of the house,
+whose decision was unalterable. Dick had learned what it was to be
+sent about his business; only once had he dared to remain without her
+sovereign permission, and on that occasion he had been treated by her
+with such dignified politeness that he would rather have been sent to
+Coventry.
+
+This evening the fates were propitious, and Dick understood that the
+sceptre of favor was to be extended to him. When the girls had flitted
+into the little dusky hall he closed the door, and sat down happily
+bedside Mrs. Challoner, to whom he descanted eloquently of the
+beauties of Hilberry and the virtues of Ned Trevanion.
+
+Mrs. Challoner listened placidly as the knitting-needles flashed
+between her long white fingers. She was very fond of Dick, after her
+temperate fashion; she had known him from a child, and had seen him
+grow up among them until he had become like a son of the house. Dick,
+who had no brothers and sisters of his own, and whose parents had not
+married until they were long past youth, had adopted brotherly airs
+with the Challoner girls; they called each other by their Christian
+names, and he reposed in them the confidences that young men are wont
+to give to their belongings.
+
+With Nan this easy familiarity had of late merged into something
+different: a reserve, a timidity, a subtile suspicion of change had
+crept into their intimacy. Nan felt that Dick's manner had altered,
+but somehow she liked it better: his was always a sweet bountiful
+nature, but now it seemed to have deepened into greater manliness.
+Dick was growing older; Oxford training was polishing him. After each
+one of his brief absences Nan saw a greater change, a more marked
+deference, and secretly hoped that no one else noticed it. When the
+young undergraduate wrote dutiful letters home the longest messages
+were always for Nan; when he carried little offerings of flowers to
+his young neighbors, Nan's bouquet was always the choicest; he
+distinguished her, too, on all occasions by those small nameless
+attentions which never fail to please.
+
+Nan kept her own counsel, and never spoke of these things. She said
+openly that Dick was very nice and very much improved, and that they
+always missed him sadly during the Oxford terms; but she never
+breathed a syllable that might make people suspect that this very
+ordinary young man with the sandy hair was more to her than other
+young men. Nevertheless Phillis and Dulce knew that such was the case,
+and Mrs. Challoner understood that the most dangerous enemy to her
+peace was this lively-spoken Dick.
+
+Dick was very amusing, for he was an eloquent young fellow:
+nevertheless Mrs. Challoner sighed more than once, and her attention
+visibly wandered; seeing which, Dick good-humoredly left off talking,
+and began inspecting the different articles in Nan's work-basket.
+
+"I am afraid I have given your mother a headache," he said when they
+were sitting round the circular table in the low, oddly-shaped
+dining-room. There was a corner cut off, and the windows were in
+unexpected places, which made it unlike other rooms; but Dick loved it
+better than the great dining-room at Longmead; and somehow it never
+had looked cosier to him than it did this evening. It was somewhat
+dark, owing to the shade of the veranda: so the lamp was lighted, and
+the pleasant scent of roses and lilies came through the open windows.
+A belated wasp hovered round the specimen glasses that Nan had filled;
+Dick tried to make havoc of the enemy with his table-napkin. The
+girls' white dresses suited their fresh young faces. Nan had fastened
+a crimson rose in her gown; Phillis and Dulce had knots of blue
+ribbon. "Trevanion does not know what he lost by his obstinacy,"
+thought Dick, as he glanced round the table.
+
+"What were you and the mother discussing?" asked Dulce, curiously.
+
+"Dick was telling me about his friend. He seemed a very superior young
+man," returned Mrs. Challoner. "I suppose you have asked him for your
+party next week?"
+
+Dick turned very red at this question. "Mater asked him, you may trust
+her for that. If it were not for father, I think she would turn the
+whole house out of the windows: every day some one fresh is invited."
+
+"How delightful! and all in your honor," exclaimed Dulce,
+mischievously.
+
+"That spoils the whole thing," grumbled the heir of the Maynes: "it
+is a perfect shame that a fellow cannot come of age quietly, without
+his people making this fuss. I begin to think I was a fool for my
+pains to refuse the ball."
+
+"Yes, indeed; just because you were afraid of the supper speeches,"
+laughed Dulce, "when we all wanted it so."
+
+"New mind," returned Dick, sturdily; "the mater shall give us one in
+the winter, and we will have Godfrey's band, and I will get all our
+fellows to come."
+
+"That will be delightful," observed Nan, and her eyes sparkled,--already
+she saw herself led out for the first dance by the son of the house,--but
+Dulce interrupted her:
+
+"But all the same I wish Dick had not been so stupid about it. No one
+knows what may happen before the winter. I hate put-off things."
+
+"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,--eh, Miss Dulce?"
+
+"Yes, indeed; that proverb is truer than people think," she replied,
+with a wise nod of her head. "Don't you remember, Nan, when the
+Parkers' dance was put off, and then old Mr. Parker died; and nearly
+the same thing happened with the Normatons, only it was an uncle in
+that case."
+
+"Moral: never put off a dance, in case somebody dies."
+
+"Oh, hush, please!" groaned Nan, in a shocked voice; "I don't like to
+hear you talk about such dreadful things. After all, it is such
+delicious weather that I am not sure a garden-party will not be more
+enjoyable; and you know, Dulce, that we are to dance on the lawn if we
+like."
+
+"And supposing it should rain," put in that extremely troublesome
+young person, at which suggestion Dick looked very gloomy.
+
+"In that case I think we must persuade Mrs. Mayne to clear a room for
+us," returned Nan, cheerfully. "If your mother consults me," she
+continued, addressing Dick, who visibly brightened at this, "I shall
+recommend her to empty the front drawing-room as much as possible.
+There is the grand piano, or the band might come in-doors; there will
+be plenty of room for the young people, and the non-dancers can be
+drafted off into the inner drawing-room and conservatory."
+
+"What a head you have!" exclaimed Dick, admiringly; and Phillis, who
+had not joined in the argument, was pleased to observe that she was
+quite of Nan's opinion: dancing was imperative, and if the lawns were
+wet they must manage in-doors somehow. "It would never do for people
+to be bored and listless," finished the young lady, sententiously, and
+such was Phillis's cleverness that it was understood at once that the
+oracle had spoken; but then it was never known for Nan and Phillis to
+differ.
+
+Things being thus amicably arranged, the rest of the conversation
+flowed evenly on every other point, such as the arrangements of the
+tennis-matches in the large meadow, and the exact position of the
+marquees; but just as they were leaving the table Dick said another
+word to Nan in a somewhat low voice:
+
+"It is all very well, but this sort of thing does make a fellow feel
+such a conceited fool."
+
+"If I were you I would not think about it at all," she returned, in
+her sensible way. "The neighborhood will expect something of the kind,
+and we owe a little to other people; then it pleases your mother to
+make a fuss, as you call it, and it would be too ungrateful to
+disappoint her."
+
+"Well, perhaps you are right," he returned, in a slightly mollified
+tone, for he was a modest young fellow, and the whole business had
+occasioned him some soreness of spirit. "Take it all in all, one has
+an awful lot to go through in life: there are the measles, you know,
+and whooping cough, and the dentist, and one's examination, and no end
+of unpleasant things; but to be made by one's own mother to feel like
+an idiot for a whole afternoon! Never mind; it can be got through
+somehow," finished the young philosopher, with a sigh that sent Nan
+into a fit of laughter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+DICK OBJECTS TO THE MOUNTAINS.
+
+
+"Shall we have our usual stroll?" asked Phillis, as Nan and Dick
+joined her at the window.
+
+This was one of the customs at Glen Cottage. When any such fitting
+escort offered itself, the three girls would put on their hats, and,
+regardless of the evening dews and their crisp white dresses, would
+saunter, under Dick's guidance through the quiet village, or down and
+up the country roads "just for a breath of air," as they would say.
+
+It is only fair to Mrs. Challoner's views of propriety to say that she
+would have trusted her three pretty daughters to no other young man
+but Dick; and of late certain prudential doubts had crossed her mind.
+It was all very well for Phillis to say Dick was Dick, and there was
+an end of it. After all, he belonged to the phalanx of her enemies,
+those shadowy invaders of her hearth that threatened her maternal
+peace. Dick was not a boy any longer; he had outgrown his hobbledehoy
+ways; the slight sandy moustache that he so proudly caressed was not a
+greater proof of his manhood than the undefinable change that had
+passed over his manners.
+
+Mrs. Challoner began to distrust these evening strolls, and to turn
+over in her own mind various wary pretexts for detaining Nan on the
+next occasion.
+
+"Just this once, perhaps, it does not matter," she murmured to
+herself, as she composed herself to her usual nap.
+
+"We shall not be long, little mother; so you must not be dull," Dulce
+had said, kissing her lightly over her eyes. This was just one of the
+pleasant fictions at the cottage,--one of those graceful little
+deceptions that are so harmless in families.
+
+Dulce knew of those placid after-dinner naps. She knew her mother's
+eyes would only unclose when Dorothy brought in the tea-tray; but she
+was also conscious that nothing would displease her mother more than
+to notice this habit. When they lingered in-doors, and talked in
+whispers so as not to disturb her, Mrs. Challoner had an extraordinary
+facility for striking into the conversation in a way that was somewhat
+confusing.
+
+"I don't agree with you at all," she would say, in a drowsy voice. "Is
+it not time for Dorothy to bring in the tea? I wish you would all talk
+louder. I must be getting a little deaf, I think, for I don't hear
+half you say."
+
+"Oh, it was only nonsense talk, mammie," Dulce would answer; and the
+sisterly chit-chat would recommence, and her mother's head nid-nodded
+on the cushions until the next interruption.
+
+"We shall not have many more of these strolls," observed Dick,
+regretfully, as they all walked together through the village, and then
+branched off into a long country road, where the air blew freshly in
+their faces and low mists hung over the meadow land. Though it was not
+quite dark, there was a tiny moon, and the glimmer of a star or two;
+and there was a pleasant fragrance as of new-mown grass.
+
+They were all walking abreast, and keeping step, and Dick was in the
+middle, with Nan beside him. Dulce was hanging on to her arm, and
+every now and then breaking into little snatches of song.
+
+"How I envy you!" exclaimed Phillis. "Think of spending three whole
+months in Switzerland. Oh, you lucky Dick!"
+
+For the Maynes had decided to pass the long vacation in the Engadine.
+Some hints had been dropped that Nan should accompany them, but Mrs.
+Challoner had regarded the invitation with some disfavor, and Mrs.
+Mayne had not pressed the point. If only Nan had known! but her mother
+had in this matter kept her own counsel.
+
+"I don't know about that," dissented Dick; he was rather given to
+argue from the mere pleasure of opposition. "Mountains and glaciers
+are all very well in their way; but I think, on the whole, I would as
+soon be here. You see, I am so accustomed to mix with a lot of
+fellows, that I am afraid of finding the pater's sole company rather
+slow."
+
+"For shame!" remarked his usual monitress. But she spoke gently: in
+her heart she knew why Dick failed to find the mountains alluring.
+
+"Why could not one of you girls join us?" he continued, wrathfully.
+The rogue had fairly bullied the unwilling Mrs. Mayne into giving that
+invitation.
+
+"Do ask her, mother; she will be such a nice companion for you when
+the pater and I are doing our climbing; do, there's a dear good soul!"
+he had coaxed. And the dear good soul, who was secretly jealous of
+Nan, and loved her about as much as mothers usually love an only son's
+choice, had bewailed her hard fate in secret; and had then stepped
+over to the cottage with a bland and cheerful exterior, which grew
+more cheerful as Mrs. Challoner's reluctance made itself felt.
+
+"It is not wise; it will throw them so much together," Nan's mother
+had said. "If it were only Phillis or Dulce; but you must have
+noticed----"
+
+"Oh, yes, I have noticed!" returned Mrs. Mayne, hastily. She was a
+stout, comely-looking woman, but beside Mrs. Challoner she looked like
+a housekeeper dressed in her mistress's smart clothes. Mrs. Mayne's
+dresses never seemed to belong to her; it could not be said that they
+fitted her ill, but there was a want of adaptability,--a lack of taste
+that failed to accord with her florid style of beauty.
+
+She had been a handsome woman when Richard Mayne married her, but a
+certain deepening of tints and broadening of contour had not improved
+the mistress of Longmead. Her husband was a decided contrast: he was a
+small, wiry man, with sharp features that expressed a great deal of
+shrewdness. Dick had got his sandy hair; but Richard Mayne the elder
+had not his son's honest, kindly eyes. Mr. Mayne's were small and
+twinkling; he had a way of looking at people between his half-closed
+lids, in a manner half sharp and half jocular.
+
+He was not vulgar, far from it; but he had a homely air about him that
+spoke of the self-made man. He was rather fond of telling people that
+his father had been in trade in a small way and that he himself had
+been the sole architect of his fortune. "Look at Dick," he would say;
+"he would never have a penny, that fellow, unless I made it for him:
+he has come into the world to find his bread ready buttered. I had to
+be content with a crust as I could earn it. The lad's a cut above us
+both, though he has the good taste to try and hide it."
+
+This sagacious speech was very true. Dick would never have succeeded
+as a business man; he was too full of crotchets and speculations to be
+content to run in narrow grooves. The notion of money-making was
+abhorrent to him; the idea of a city life, with its hard rubs and
+drudgery, was utterly distasteful to him. "One would have to mix with
+such a lot of cads," he would say. "English, pure and undefiled, is
+not always spoken. If I must work, I would rather have a turn at law
+or divinity; the three old women with the eye between them knows
+which."
+
+It could not be denied that Dick winced a little at his father's
+homely speeches; but in his heart he was both proud and fond of him,
+and was given to assert to a few of his closest friends "that, take it
+all in all, and looking at other fellows' fathers, he was a rattling
+good sort, and no mistake."
+
+When Mrs. Challoner had entered her little protest against her
+daughter's acceptance of the invitation, Mrs. Mayne had risen and
+kissed her with some effusion as she took her leave.
+
+"It is so nice of you to say this to me; of course I should have been
+pleased, delighted to have had Nan with us" (oh, Mrs. Mayne, fie for
+shame! when you want your boy to yourself), "but all the same I think
+you are so wise."
+
+"Poor child! I am afraid I am refusing her a great treat," returned
+Mrs. Challoner, in a tone of regret. It was the first time since her
+husband's death that she had ever decided anything without reference
+to her daughters; but for once her maternal fears were up in arms, and
+drove her to sudden resolution.
+
+"Yes, but, as you observed, it would throw them so entirely together;
+and Dick is so young. Richard was only saying the other night that he
+hoped the boy would not fancy himself in love for the next two years,
+as he did not approve of such early engagements."
+
+"Neither do I," returned Mrs. Challoner, quickly. "Nothing would annoy
+me more than for one of my daughters to entangle herself with so young
+a man. We know the world too well for that, Mrs. Mayne. Why, Dick may
+fall in and out of love half a dozen times before he really makes up
+his mind."
+
+"Ah, that is what Richard says," returned Dick's mother, with a sigh;
+in her heart she was not quite of her husband's opinion. She
+remembered how that long waiting wasted her own youth,--waiting for
+what? For comforts that she would gladly have done without,--for a
+well-furnished house, when she would have lived happily in the poorest
+lodging with the Richard Mayne who had won her heart,--for whom she
+would have toiled and slaved with the self-abnegating devotion of a
+loving woman; only he feared to have it so.
+
+"'When poverty enters the door, love flies out of the window:' we had
+better make up our minds to wait, Bessie. I can better work in single
+than double harness just now." That was what he said to her, and
+Bessie waited,--not till she grew thin, but stout, and the spirit of
+her youth was gone; and it was a sober, middle-aged woman who took
+possession of the long-expected home.
+
+Mrs. Mayne loved her husband, but during that tedious engagement her
+ardor had a little cooled, and it may be doubted whether the younger
+Richard was not dearer to her than his father; which was ungrateful,
+to say the least of it, as Mr. Mayne doted on his comely wife, and
+thought Bessie as handsome now as in the days when she came out
+smiling to welcome him, a slim young creature with youthful roses in
+her cheeks.
+
+From this brief conversation it may be seen that none of the elders
+quite approved of this budding affection. Mrs. Challoner, who
+belonged to a good old family, found it hard to forgive the Maynes'
+lowliness of birth; and though she liked Dick, she thought Nan could
+do better for herself. Mr. Mayne pooh-poohed the whole thing so
+entirely that the women could only speak of it among themselves.
+
+"Dick is a clever fellow; he ought to marry money," he would say. "I
+am not a millionaire, and a little more would be acceptable;" and
+though he was always kind to Nan and her sisters, he was forever
+dealing sly hits at her. "Phillis has the brains of the family," he
+would say: "that is the girl for my money. I call her a vast deal
+better looking than Nan, though people make such a fuss about the
+other one;" a speech he was never tired of repeating in his son's
+presence, and at which Dick snapped his fingers metaphorically and
+said nothing.
+
+When Dick wished that one of them were going to Switzerland, Nan
+sighed furtively. Dick was going away for three months, for the
+remainder of the long vacation. After next week they would not see him
+until Christmas,--nearly six months. A sense of dreariness, as new as
+it was strange, swept momentarily over Nan as she pondered this. The
+summer months would be grievously clouded. Dick had been the moving
+spirit of all the fun; the tennis-parties, the pleasant dawdling
+afternoons, would lose their zest when he was away.
+
+She remembered how persistently he had haunted their footsteps. When
+they paid visits to the Manor House, or Gardenhurst, or Fitzroy Lodge,
+Dick was sure to put in an appearance. People had nicknamed him the
+"Challoners' Squire;" but now Nan must go squireless for the rest of
+the summer, unless she took compassion on Stanley Parker, or that
+dreadful chatterbox his cousin.
+
+The male population was somewhat sparse at Oldfield. There were a few
+Eton boys, and one or two in that delightful transition age when youth
+is most bashful and uninteresting,--a sort of unfledged manhood, when
+the smooth boyish cheek contradicts the deepened bass of the
+voice,--an age that has not ceased to blush, and which is full of
+aggravating idosyncrasies and unexpected angles.
+
+To be sure, Lord Fitzroy was a splendid specimen of a young guardsman,
+but he had lately taken to himself a wife; and Sir Alfred Mostyn, who
+was also somewhat attractive and a very pleasant fellow, and
+unattached at present, had a tiresome habit of rushing off to Norway,
+or St. Petersburg, or Niagara, or the Rocky Mountains, for what he
+termed sport, or a lark.
+
+"It seems we are very stupid this evening," observed Phillis for Dick
+had waxed almost as silent as Nan. "I think the mother must nearly
+have finished her nap, so I propose we go back and have some tea;"
+and, as Nan languidly acquiesced they turned their faces towards the
+village again, Dulce still holding firmly to Nan's arm. By and by Dick
+struck out in a fresh direction.
+
+"I say, don't you wish we could have last week over again?"
+
+"Yes! oh, yes! was it not too delicious?" from the three girls; and
+Nan added, "I never enjoyed anything so much in my life," in a tone so
+fervent that Dick was delighted.
+
+"What a brick your mother was, to be sure, to spare you all!"
+
+"Yes; and she was so dull, poor dear, all the time we were away.
+Dorothy gave us quite a pitiful account when we got home."
+
+"It was a treat one ought to remember all one's life," observed
+Phillis, quite solemnly; and then ensued a most animated discussion.
+
+The treat to which Phillis alluded had been simply perfect in the
+three girls' eyes. Dick, who never forgot his friends, had so worked
+upon his mother that she had consented to chaperon the three sisters
+during Commemoration; and a consent being fairly coaxed out of Mrs.
+Challoner, the plan was put into execution.
+
+Dick, who was in the seventh heaven of delight, found roomy lodgings
+in the High Street, in which he installed his enraptured guests.
+
+The five days that followed were simply hours snatched out of
+fairyland to these four happy young creatures. No wonder envious looks
+were cast at Dick as he walked in Christ Church Meadows with Nan and
+Dulce, Phillis bringing up the rear somewhat soberly with Mrs. Mayne.
+
+"One pretty face would content most fellows," his friends grumbled;
+"but when you come to three, and not his own sisters either, why, it
+isn't fair on other folk." And to Dick they said, "Come, it is no use
+being so awfully close. Of course we see what's up: you are a lucky
+dog. Which is it, Mayne?--the pretty one with the pink and white
+complexion or the quiet one in gray, or the one with the mischievous
+eyes?"
+
+"Faix, they are all darlints and jewels, bless their purty faces!"
+drawled one young rogue, in his favorite brogue. "Here's the top of
+the morning to ye, Mayne; and it is mavourneen with the brown eyes and
+the trick of the smile like the sunshine's glint that has stolen poor
+Paddy's heart."
+
+"Oh, shut up, you fellows!" returned Dick, in a disgusted voice. "What
+is the good of your pretending to be Irish, Hamilton, when you are a
+canny Scotchman?"
+
+"Hoots, man, mind your clavers! You need not grizzle at a creature
+because he admires a wee gairl that is just beyond the lave,--a sonsie
+wee thing with a glint in her een like diamonds."
+
+"Hamilton, will you leave off this foolery?"
+
+"Nae doubt, nae doubt; would his honor pe axing if he pe wrang in the
+head, puir thing? Never mind that, put pe giving me the skene-dhu, or
+I will fight with proud-swords like a gentleman for the bit lassie;"
+but here a wary movement on Dick's part extinguished the torrent of
+Highland eloquence, and brought the canny Scotchman to the ground.
+
+Perfectly oblivious of all these compliments, the Challoners enjoyed
+themselves with the zest of healthy, happy English girls. They were
+simply indefatigable: poor Mrs. Mayne succumbed utterly before the
+fine days were over.
+
+They saw the procession of boats; they were at the flower-show at
+Worcester; Sunday afternoon found them in the Broad Walk; and the next
+night they were dancing at the University ball.
+
+They raved about the beauty of Magdalen cloisters; they looked down
+admiringly into the deer-park; Addison's Walk became known to them,
+and the gardens of St. John's. Phillis talked learnedly about Cardinal
+Wolsey as she stood in Christ Church hall: and in the theatre "the
+young ladies in pink" invoked the most continuous cheers.
+
+"Can they mean us?" whispered Dulce, rather alarmed, to their faithful
+escort Dick. "I don't see any other pink dresses!"
+
+And Dick said, calmly,--
+
+"Well, I suppose so. Some of those fellows up there are such a
+trumpery lot."
+
+So Dulce grew more reassured.
+
+But the greatest fun of all was the afternoon spent in Dick's room,
+when all his special friends were bidden to five o'clock tea, over
+which Nan, in her white gown, presided so gracefully.
+
+What a dear, shabby old room it was, with old-fashioned window-seats,
+where one could look down into the quadrangle. Dick was an Oriel man,
+and thought his college superior even to Magdalen.
+
+It became almost too hot and crowded at last, so many were the
+invitations given; but then, as Dick said afterwards, "he was such a
+soft-hearted beggar that he could not refuse the fellows that pestered
+him for invitations."
+
+Mrs. Mayne, looking very proud and happy, sat fanning herself in one
+of these windows. Phillis and Dulce were in the other attended by that
+rogue Hamilton and half a dozen more. Nan was the centre of another
+clique, who hemmed her and the tea-table in so closely that Dick had
+to wander disconsolately round the outskirts: there was no getting a
+look from Nan that afternoon.
+
+How hot it was! It was a grand _coup_ when the door opened and the
+scout made his appearance carrying a tray of ices.
+
+"It is well to be Mayne!" half grumbled young Hamilton, as Dulce took
+one gratefully from his hand. "He is treating us like a prince,
+instead of the thin bread-and-butter entertainment he led us to
+expect. Put down that tea, Miss Challoner. I see iced claret-cup and
+strawberries in the corner. There is nothing like being an only child;
+doting parents are extremely useful articles. I am one of ten; would
+you believe it?" continued the garrulous youth. "When one has six
+brothers older than one's self, I will leave you to imagine the
+consequences."
+
+"How nice!" returned Dulce, innocently; "I have always so longed for a
+brother. If it had not been for Dick, we should have had no one to do
+things for us."
+
+"Oh, indeed! Mayne is a sort of adopted brother!" observed her
+companion, looking at her rather sharply.
+
+"We have always looked upon him as one. We do just as we like with
+him,--scold and tease him, and send him on our errands;" which
+intelligence fairly convinced the envious Hamilton that the youngest
+Miss Challoner was not his friend's fancy.
+
+Dick always recalled that evening with a sense of pride. How well and
+gracefully Nan had fulfilled her duties! how pretty she had looked, in
+spite of her flushed cheeks! He had never seen a girl to compare with
+her,--not he!
+
+They were so full of these delightful reminiscences that they were at
+the cottage gate before they knew it; and then Dick astonished them by
+refusing to come in. He had quite forgotten, he said, but his mother
+had asked him to come home early, as she was not feeling just the
+thing.
+
+"Quite right; you must do as she wishes," returned Nan, dismissing him
+far too readily, as he thought; but she said "Good-night!" with so
+kind a smile after that, that the foolish young fellow felt his pulses
+quicken.
+
+Dick lingered at the corner until the cottage door was closed, and
+then he raced down the Longmead shrubbery and set the house-bell
+pealing.
+
+"They are in the library, I suppose?" he asked of the butler who
+admitted him; and, on receiving an answer in the affirmative, he
+dashed unceremoniously into the room, while his mother held up her
+finger and smiled at the truant.
+
+"You naughty boy, to be so late; and now you have spoiled you father's
+nap!" she said, pretending to scold him.
+
+"Tut! tut! what nonsense you talk sometimes!" said Mr. Mayne, rather
+crossly, as he stood on the hearth-rug rubbing his eyes. "I was not
+asleep, I will take my oath of that; only I wish Dick could sometimes
+enter a room without making people jump;" by which Dick knew that his
+father was in one of his contrary moods, when he could be very
+cross,--very cross indeed!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+MR. MAYNE MAKES HIMSELF DISAGREEABLE.
+
+
+The library at Longmead was a very pleasant room, and it was the
+custom of the family to retire thither on occasions when guests were
+not forthcoming, and Mr. Mayne could indulge in his favorite nap
+without fear of interruption.
+
+A certain simplicity, not to say homeliness, of manners prevailed in
+the house. It was understood among them that the dining-room was far
+too gorgeous for anything but occasions of ceremony. Mrs. Mayne,
+indeed, had had the good taste to cover the satin couches with pretty,
+fresh-looking cretonne, and had had arranged hanging cupboards of old
+china until it had been transformed into a charming apartment,
+notwithstanding which the library was declared to be the family-room,
+where the usual masculine assortment of litter could be regarded with
+indulgent eyes, and where papers and pamphlets lay in delightful
+confusion.
+
+Longmead was not a pretentious house--it was a moderate-sized
+residence, adapted to a gentleman of moderate means; but in summer no
+place could be more charming. The broad gravel walk before the house
+had a background of roses; hundreds of roses climbed up the railings
+or twined themselves about the steps: a tiny miniature lake, garnished
+with water-lilies, lay in the centre of the lawn; a group of old
+elm-trees was beside it; behind the house lay another lawn, and beyond
+were meadows where a few sheep were quietly grazing. Mr. Mayne, who
+found time hang a little heavily on his hands, prided himself a good
+deal on his poultry-yard and kitchen-garden. A great deal of his spare
+time was spent among his favorite Bantams and Dorkings, and in
+superintending his opinionated old gardener--on summer mornings he
+would be out among the dews in his old coat and planter's hat, weeding
+among the gooseberry-bushes.
+
+"It is the early bird that finds the worm," he would say, when Dick
+sauntered into the breakfast-room later on; for, in common with the
+youth of his generation, he had a wholesome horror of early rising,
+which he averred was one of the barbarous usages of the dark ages in
+which his elders had been bred.
+
+"I never took any interest in worms, sir," returned Dick, helping
+himself to a tempting rasher that had just been brought in hot for the
+pampered youth. "By the bye, have you seen Darwin's work on 'The
+Formation of Vegetable Mould'? he declares that worms have played a
+more important part in the history of the world than most people
+would at first suppose: they were our earliest ploughmen."
+
+"Oh, ah! indeed, very interesting!" observed his father, dryly; "but
+all the same, I beg to observe, no one succeeded in life who was not
+an early riser."
+
+"A sweeping assertion, and one I might be tempted to argue, if it were
+not for taking up your valuable time," retorted Dick, lazily, but with
+a twinkle in his eye. "I know my constitution better than to trust
+myself out before the world is properly aired and dried. I am thinking
+it is less a case of worms than of rheumatism some early birds will be
+catching;" to which Mr. Mayne merely returned an ungracious "Pshaw!"
+and marched off, leaving his son to enjoy his breakfast in peace.
+
+When Dick entered the library on the evening in question, Mr. Mayne's
+querulous observation as to the noisiness of his entrance convinced
+him at once that his father was in a very bad humor indeed, and that
+on this account it behooved him to be exceedingly cool.
+
+So he kissed his mother, who looked at him a little anxiously, and
+then sat down and turned out her work-basket, as he had done Nan's two
+or three hours ago.
+
+"You are late after all, Dick," she said, with a little reproach in
+her voice. It was hardly a safe observation, to judge by her husband's
+cloudy countenance; but the poor thing sometimes felt her evenings a
+trifle dull when Dick was away. Mr. Mayne would take up his paper, but
+his eyes soon closed over it; that habit of seeking for the early worm
+rather disposed him to somnolent evenings, during which his wife
+knitted and felt herself nodding off out of sheer _ennui_ and dulness.
+These were not the hours she had planned during those years of
+waiting; she had told herself that Richard would read to her or talk
+to her as she sat over her work, that they would have so much to say
+to each other; but now, as she regarded his sleeping countenance
+evening after evening, it may be doubted whether matrimony was quite
+what she expected, since its bliss was so temperate and so strongly
+infused with drowsiness.
+
+Dick looked up innocently. "Am I late, mother?"
+
+"Oh, of course not," returned his father, with a sneer; "it is not
+quite time to ring for Nicholson to bring our candles. Bessie, I think
+I should like some hot water to-night; I feel a little chilly." And
+Bessie rang the bell obediently, and without any surprise in her
+manner. Mr. Mayne often woke up chilly from his long nap.
+
+"Are you going to have a 'drap of the cratur'?" asked his son, with
+alacrity. "Well, I don't mind joining you, and that's the truth, for
+we have been dawdling about, and I am a trifle chilly myself."
+
+"You know I object to spirits for young men," returned Mr. Mayne,
+severely: nevertheless he pushed the whiskey to Dick as soon as he
+had mixed his own glass, and his son followed his example.
+
+"I am quite of your opinion, father," he observed, as he regarded the
+handsome cut-glass decanter somewhat critically; "but there are
+exceptions to every rule, and when one is chilly----"
+
+"I wish you would make an exception and stay away from the cottage
+sometimes," returned Mr. Mayne, with ill-suppressed impatience. "It
+was all very well when you were all young things together, but it is
+high time matters should be different."
+
+Dick executed a low whistle of surprise and dismay. He had no idea his
+father's irritability had arisen from any definite cause. What a fool
+he had been to be so late! it might lead to some unpleasant
+discussion. Well, after all, if his father chose to be so disagreeable
+it was not his fault; and he was no longer a boy, to be chidden, or
+made to do this or that against his own will.
+
+Mr. Mayne was sufficiently shrewd to see that his son was somewhat
+taken aback by this sudden onslaught, and he was not slow to press his
+advantage. He had wanted to give Dick a bit of his mind for some time,
+and after all there is no time like the present.
+
+"Yes, it was all very well when you were a lot of children together,"
+he continued. "Of course, it is hard on you, Dick, having no brothers
+and sisters to keep you company; your mother and I were always sorry
+about that for your sake."
+
+"Oh, don't mention it," interrupted Dick: "on the whole, I am best
+pleased as it is."
+
+"But it would have been better for you," returned his father, sharply:
+"we should not have had all this fooling and humbug if you had had
+sisters of your own."
+
+"Fooling and humbug!" repeated Dick, hotly; "I confess, sir, I don't
+quite understand to what you are referring." He was growing very
+angry, but his mother flung herself between the combatants.
+
+"Don't, my boy, don't; you must not answer your father in that way.
+Richard, what makes you so hard on him to-night? It must be the gout,
+Dick: we had better send for Dr. Weatherby in the morning," continued
+the anxious woman, with tears in her eyes, "for your dear father would
+never be so cross to you as this unless he were going to be ill."
+
+"Stuff and nonsense, Bessie! Dr. Weatherby indeed!" but his voice was
+less wrathful. "What is it but fooling, I should like to know, for
+Dick to be daundering his time away with a parcel of girls as he does
+with these Challoners!"
+
+"I suppose you were never a young man yourself, sir."
+
+"Oh, yes, I was, my boy," and the corners of Mr. Mayne's mouth relaxed
+in spite of his efforts to keep serious. "I fell in love with your
+mother, and stuck to her for seven or eight years; but I did not make
+believe that I was brother to a lot of pretty girls, and waste all my
+time dancing attendance on them and running about on their errands."
+
+"You ought to have taken a lesson out of my book," returned his son,
+readily.
+
+"No, I ought to have done no such thing, sir!" shouted back Mr. Mayne,
+waxing irate again. It could not be denied that Dick could be
+excessively provoking when he liked. "Don't I tell you it is time this
+sort of thing was stopped? Why, people will begin to talk, and say you
+are making up to one of them, it is not right, Dick; it is not,
+indeed," with an attempted pathos.
+
+"I don't care that for what people say," returned the young fellow,
+snapping his fingers. "Is it not a pity you are saying all this to me
+just when I am going away and am not likely to see any of them for the
+next six months? You are very hard on me to-night, father; and I can't
+think what it is all about."
+
+Mr. Mayne was silent a moment, revolving his son's pathetic speech. It
+was true he had been cross, and had said more than he had meant to
+say. He had not wished to hinder Dick's innocent enjoyments; but if he
+were unknowingly picking flowers at the edge of a precipice, was it
+not his duty as a father to warn him?
+
+"I think I have been a little hard, my lad," he said, candidly, "but
+there, you and your mother know my bark is worse than my bite. I only
+wanted to warn you; that's all, Dick."
+
+"Warn me!--against what, sir?" asked the young man, quickly.
+
+"Against falling in love, really, with one of the Challoner girls!"
+returned Mr. Mayne, trying to evade the fire of Dick's eyes, and
+blustering a little in consequence. "Why, they have not a penny, one
+of them, and, if report be true, Mrs. Challoner's money is very
+shakily invested. Paine told me so the other day. He said he should
+never wonder if a sudden crash came any minute."
+
+"Is this true, Richard?"
+
+"Paine declares it is; and think of Dick saddling himself with the
+support of a whole family!"
+
+"It strikes me you are taking things very much for granted," returned
+his son, trying to speak coolly, but flushing like a girl over his
+words. "I think you might wait, father, until I proposed bringing you
+home a daughter-in-law."
+
+"I am only warning you, Dick, that the Challoner connection would be
+distasteful to me," replied Mr. Mayne, feeling that he had gone a
+little too far. "If you had brothers and sisters it would not matter
+half so much; but it would be too hard if my only son were to cross my
+wishes."
+
+"Should you disinherit me, father?" observed Dick, cheerfully. He had
+recovered his coolness and pluck, and began to feel more equal to the
+occasion.
+
+"We should see about that, but I hardly think it would be for your
+advantage to oppose me too much," returned his father with an ominous
+pucker of his eyebrows, which warned Dick, that it was hardly safe to
+chaff the old boy too much to-night.
+
+"I think I will go to bed, Richard," put in poor Mrs. Mayne. She had
+wisely forborne to mix in the discussion, fearing that it would bring
+upon her the vials of her husband's wrath. Mr. Mayne was as choleric
+as a Welshman, and had a reserve force of sharp cynical sayings that
+were somewhat hard to bear. He was disposed to turn upon her on such
+occasions, and to accuse her of spoiling Dick and taking his part
+against his father; between the two Richards she sometimes had a very
+bad time indeed.
+
+Dick lighted his mother's candle, and bade her good-night; but all the
+same she knew she had not seen the last of him. A few minutes
+afterwards there was a hasty tap at the bedroom door, and Dick thrust
+in his head.
+
+"Come in, my dear; I have been expecting you," she said, with a
+pleased smile. He always came to her when he was ruffled or put out,
+and brought her all his grievances; surely this was the very meaning
+and essence of her motherhood,--this healing and comfort that lay in
+her power of sympathy.
+
+When he was a little fellow, had she not extracted many a thorn and
+bound up many a cut finger? and now he was a man, would she be less
+helpful to him when he wanted a different kind of comfort?
+
+"Come in, my son," she said, beckoning him to the low chair beside
+her, into which Dick threw himself with a petulant yawn.
+
+"Mother, what made the pater so hard on me to-night? he cut up as
+rough as though I had committed some crime."
+
+"I don't think he is quite himself to-night," returned Mrs. Mayne, in
+her soft, motherly voice. "I fancy he misses you, Dick, and is half
+jealous of the Challoners for monopolizing you. You are all we have,
+that's where it is," she finished, stroking the sandy head with her
+plump hand; but Dick jerked away from her with a little impatience.
+
+"I think it rather hard that a fellow is to be bullied for doing
+nothing at all," replied Dick, with a touch of sullenness. "When the
+pater is in this humor it is no use saying anything to him; but you
+may as well tell him, mother, that I mean to choose my wife for
+myself."
+
+"Oh, my dear, I dare not tell him anything of the kind," returned Mrs.
+Mayne, in an alarmed voice; and then, as she glanced at her son, her
+terror merged into amusement. There was something so absurdly boyish
+in Dick's appearance, such a ludicrous contrast between the manliness
+of his speech and his smooth cheek; the little fringe of hirsute
+ornament, of which Dick was so proud, was hardly visible in the dim
+light; his youthful figure, more clumsy than graceful, had an
+unfledged air about it, nevertheless, the boldness of his words took
+away her breath.
+
+"Every man has a right to his own choice in such a matter," continued
+Dick, loftily. "You may as well tell him, mother, that I intend to
+select my own wife."
+
+"My dear, I dare not for worlds----" she began; and then she stopped,
+and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Why do you say this to me? there
+is plenty of time," she went on hastily; "that is what your father
+says, and I think he is right. You are too young for this sort of
+thing yet. You must see the world; you must look about you; you must
+have plenty of choice," continued the anxious mother. "I shall be hard
+to please, Dick, for I shall think no one good enough for my boy; that
+is the worst of having only one, and he the best son that ever lived,"
+finished Mrs. Mayne, with maternal pride in her voice.
+
+Dick took this effusion very coolly. He was quite used to all this
+sort of worship; he did not think badly of himself; he was not
+particularly humble-minded or given to troublesome introspection; on
+the whole, he thought himself a good fellow, and was not at all
+surprised that people appreciated him.
+
+"There are such a lot of cads in the world, one is always glad to fall
+in with a different sort," he would say to himself. He was quite of
+his mother's opinion, that an honest, God-fearing young fellow, who
+spoke the truth and shamed the devil, who had no special vices but a
+dislike for early rising, who had tolerable brains, and more than his
+share of muscle, who was in the Oxford eleven, and who had earned his
+blue ribbon,--that such a one might be considered to set an example to
+his generation.
+
+When his mother told him she would be hard to please, Dick looked a
+little wicked, and thought of Nan; but the name was not mentioned
+between them. Nevertheless, Mrs. Mayne felt with unerring maternal
+instinct that, in spite of his youth, Dick's choice was made, and
+sighed to herself at the thought of the evil days that were to come.
+
+Poor woman, she was to have little peace that night! Hardly had Dick
+finished his grumble and sauntered away, before her husband's step was
+heard in his dressing-room.
+
+"Bessie," he called out to her, "why do you allow that boy to keep you
+up so late at night? Do you know that it is eleven, and you are still
+fully dressed?"
+
+"Is it so late, Richard?"
+
+"Yes, of course," he snapped; "but that is the care you take of your
+health; and the way you cosset and spoil that boy is dreadful."
+
+"I don't think Dick is easily spoiled," plucking up a little spirit to
+answer him.
+
+"That shows how little you understand boys," returned her husband.
+Evidently the whiskey, though it was the best Glenlivat, had failed to
+mollify him. It might be dangerous to go too far with Dick, for he had
+a way of turning around and defending himself that somewhat
+embarrassed Mr. Mayne, but with his wife there would be no such
+danger. He would dominate her by his sharp speeches, and reduce her to
+abject submission in a moment, for Bessie was the meekest of wives.
+"Take care how you side with him," he continued, in a threatening
+voice. "He thinks that I am not serious in what I said just now, and
+is for carrying it off with a high hand; but I tell you, and you had
+better tell him, that I was never more in earnest in my life. I won't
+have one of those Challoner girls for a daughter-in-law!"
+
+"Oh, Richard! and Nan is such a sweet girl!" returned his wife, with
+tears in her eyes. She was awfully jealous of Nan, at times she almost
+dreaded her; but for her boy's sake she would have taken her now to
+her heart and defied even her formidable husband. "She is such a
+pretty creature, too; no one can help loving her."
+
+"Pshaw!" returned her husband; "pretty creature indeed! that is just
+your soft-hearted nonsense. Phillis is ten times prettier, and has
+heaps more sense. Why couldn't Dick have taken a fancy to her?"
+
+"Because I am afraid he cares for the other one," returned Mrs. Mayne,
+sadly. She had no wish to deceive her husband and she knew that the
+golden apple had rolled to Nan's feet.
+
+"Stuff and rubbish!" he responded, wrathfully. "What is a boy of his
+age to know about such things? Tell him from me to put this nonsense
+out of his head for the next year or two; there is plenty of time to
+look out for a wife after that. But I won't have him making up his
+mind until he has left Oxford." And Mrs. Mayne, knowing that her
+husband had spoken his last word, thankfully withdrew, feeling that in
+her heart she secretly agreed with him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+DICK'S FÊTE.
+
+
+As Mr. Mayne's wrath soon evaporated, and Dick was a sweet-tempered
+fellow and bore no malice, this slight altercation produced no lasting
+effect, except that Dick, for the next few days, hurried home to his
+dinner, talked a good deal about Switzerland, and never mentioned a
+Challoner in his father's hearing.
+
+"We must keep him in a good temper for the 25th," he said to his
+mother, with a touch of the Mayne shrewdness.
+
+That day was rapidly approaching, and all sorts of festive
+preparations were going on at Longmead. Dick himself gravely
+superintended the rolling of the tennis-ground in the large meadow,
+and daubed himself plentifully with lime in marking out the courts,
+while Mr. Mayne stood with his hands in the pockets of his
+shooting-coat watching him. The two were a great deal together just
+then: Dick rather stuck to his father during one or two mornings; the
+wily young fellow knew that Nan was closeted with his mother, helping
+her with all sorts of feminine arrangements, and he was determined to
+keep them apart. Nan wondered a great deal why Dick did not come to
+interrupt or tease them as usual, and grew a little absent over Mrs.
+Mayne's rambling explanations. When the gong sounded, no one asked her
+to stay to luncheon. Mrs. Mayne saw her put on her hat without
+uttering a single protest.
+
+"It is so good of you to help me, dear," she said, taking the girl
+into her embrace. "You are quite sure people won't expect a sit-down
+supper?"
+
+"Oh no; the buffet system is best," returned Nan, decidedly. "Half the
+people will not stay, and you need not make a fuss about the rest. It
+is an afternoon party, you must remember that; only people who are
+very intimate will remain for the fun of the thing. Tell Nicholson to
+have plenty of ices going; people care most for that sort of
+refreshment."
+
+"Yes, dear; I will be sure to remember," returned her friend, meekly.
+
+She was very grateful to Nan for these hints, and was quite willing to
+follow her guidance in all such matters; but when Nan proposed once
+sending for Dick to ask his opinion on some knotty point that baffled
+their women's wits, Mrs. Mayne demurred.
+
+"It is a pity to disturb him; he is with his father; and we can settle
+these things by ourselves," she replied, not venturing to mar the
+present tranquillity by sending such a message to Dick. Mr. Mayne
+would have accompanied his son, and the consultation would hardly have
+ended peaceably. "Men have their hobbies. We had better settle all
+this together, you and I," she said hurriedly.
+
+Nan merely nodded, and cut the Gordian knot through somewhat
+ruthlessly; but on that occasion she put on her hat before the gong
+sounded.
+
+"You must be very busy, for one never has a glimpse of you in the
+morning," she could not help saying to Dick, as he came in that
+afternoon to escort them to Fitzroy Lodge.
+
+"Well, yes, I am tolerably busy," he drawled. "I am never free to do
+things in the afternoons,"--a fact that Nan felt was unanswerable.
+
+When Nan and her sisters woke on the morning of the memorable day, the
+bright sunshine of a cloudless June day set all their fears at rest.
+If the sun smiled on Dick's fête, all would be well. If Nan's
+devotions were longer than usual that morning, no one was the wiser;
+if she added a little clause, calling down a blessing on a certain
+head, no one would be the poorer for such pure prayers; indeed, it
+were well if many such were uttered for the young men who go forth
+morning after morning into the temptations of life.
+
+Such prayers might stretch like an invisible shield before the
+countless foes that environ such a one; fiery darts may be caught upon
+it; a deadly thrust may be turned away. What if the blessing would
+never reach the ear of the loved one, who goes out unconscious of
+sympathy? His guardian angel has heard it, and perchance it has
+reached the very gate of heaven.
+
+Nan came down, smiling and radiant, to find Dick waiting for her in
+the veranda and chattering to Phillis and Dulce.
+
+"Why, Dick!" she cried, blushing with surprise and pleasure, "to think
+of your being here on your birthday morning!"
+
+"I only came to thank you and the girls for your lovely presents,"
+returned Dick, becoming rather incoherent and red at the sight of
+Nan's blush. "It was so awfully good of you all, to work all those
+things for me;" for Nan had taken secret measurements in Dick's room,
+and had embroidered a most exquisite mantelpiece valance, and Phillis
+and Dulce had worked the corners of a green cloth with wonderful
+daffodils and bulrushes to cover Dick's shabby table: and Dick's soul
+had been filled with ravishment at the sight of these gifts.
+
+Nan would not let him go on, but all the same his happy face delighted
+her.
+
+"No, don't thank us, we liked doing it," she returned, rather coolly.
+"You know we owed you something after all your splendid hospitality,
+and work is never any trouble to us."
+
+"But I never saw anything I liked better," blurted out Dick. "All the
+fellows will be jealous of me. I am sure I don't know what Hamilton
+will say. It was awfully good of you, Nan, and so it was of the
+others: and if I don't make it up to you somehow, my name is not
+Dick:" and he smiled round at them as he spoke. "Fancy putting in all
+those stitches for me!" he thought to himself.
+
+"We are so glad you are pleased," returned Nan, with one of her sweet,
+straightforward looks; "that is what we wanted to give you,--a little
+surprise on your birthday. Now you must tell us about your other
+presents." And Dick, nothing loath, launched into eloquent
+descriptions of the silver-fitted dressing-case from his mother, and
+the gun and thorough-bred collie that had been his father's gifts.
+
+"He is such a fine fellow; I must show him to you this afternoon,"
+went on Dick, eagerly. "His name is Vigo, and he has such a superb
+head. Was it not good of the pater? he knew I had a fancy for a
+collie, and he has been in treaty for one ever so long. Is he not a
+dear old boy?" cried Dick, rapturously. But he did not tell his
+friends of the crisp bundle of bank-notes with which Mr. Mayne had
+enriched his son; only as Dick fingered them lovingly, he wondered
+what pretty foreign thing he could buy for Nan, and whether her mother
+would allow her to accept it.
+
+After this Nan dismissed him somewhat peremptorily; he must go back to
+his breakfast, and allow them to do the same.
+
+"Mind you come early," were Dick's last words as he waved his straw
+hat to them. How often the memory of that morning recurred to him as
+he stood solitarily and thoughtful, contemplating some grand sketch of
+Alpine scenery!
+
+The snow peaks and blue glaciers melted away before his eyes; in their
+place rose unbidden a picture framed in green trellis-work, over which
+roses were climbing.
+
+Fresh girlish faces smiled back at him; the brightest and kindest of
+glances met his. "Good-bye, Dick; a thousand good wishes from us all."
+A slim white hand had gathered a rose-bud for him; how proudly he had
+worn it all that day! Stop, he had it still; it lay all crushed and
+withered in his pocket-book. He had written the date under it; one day
+he meant to show it to her. Oh, foolish days of youth, so prodigal of
+minor memories and small deeds of gifts, when a withered flower can
+hold the rarest scent, and in a crumpled roseleaf there is a whole
+volume of ecstatic meaning! Oh, golden days of youth, never to be
+surpassed!
+
+Never in the memory of Oldfield had there been a more delicious day.
+
+The sky was cloudless; long purple shadows lay under the elm-trees; a
+concert of bird-music sounded from the shrubberies: in the green
+meadows flags were waving, tent-draperies fluttering; the house-doors
+stood open, showing a flower-decked hall and vista of cool shadowy
+rooms.
+
+Dick, looking bright and trim, wandering restlessly over the place,
+and Mr. Mayne fidgeted after him; while Mrs. Mayne sat fanning herself
+under the elm-trees and hoping the band would not be late.
+
+No there it was turning in now at the stable-entrance, and playing
+"The girl I left behind me;" and there at the same moment was Nan
+coming up the lawn in her white gown, closely followed by her mother
+and sisters.
+
+"Are we the first?" she asked, as Dick darted across the grass to meet
+her. "That is nice; we shall see all the people arrive. How
+inspiriting that music is, and how beautiful everything looks!"
+
+"It is awfully jolly of you to be the first," whispered Dick; "and how
+nice you look, Nan! You always do, you know, but to-day you are
+first-rate. Is this a new gown?" casting an approving look over Nan's
+costume, which was certainly very fresh and pretty.
+
+"Oh, yes; we have all new dresses in your honor, and we made them
+ourselves," returned Nan, carelessly. "Mother has got her old silk,
+but for her it does not so much matter; at least that is what she
+says."
+
+"And she is quite right. She is always real splendid, as the Yankees
+say, whatever she wears," returned Dick, wishing secretly that his
+mother in her new satin dress looked half so well as Mrs. Challoner in
+her old one. But it was no use. Mrs. Mayne never set off her handsome
+dresses; with her flushed, good-natured face and homely ways, she
+showed to marked disadvantage beside Mrs. Challoner's faded beauty.
+Mrs. Challoner's gown might be antique, but nothing could surpass the
+quiet grace of her carriage, or the low pleasant modulations of her
+voice. Her figure was almost as slim as her daughters', and she could
+easily have passed for their elder sister.
+
+Lady Fitzroy, who was a Burgoyne by birth,--and every one knows that
+for haughtiness and a certain exclusive intoleration none could match
+the Burgoynes,--always distinguished Mrs. Challoner by the marked
+attention she paid her.
+
+"A very lady-like woman, Percival. Certainly the most lady-like person
+in the neighborhood," she would say to her husband, who was not quite
+so exclusive, and always made himself pleasant to his neighbors; and
+she would ask very graciously after her brother-in-law, Sir Francis
+Challoner. "He is still in India, I suppose?"
+
+"Oh, yes; he is still in India," Mrs. Challoner would reply, rather
+curtly. She had not the faintest interest in her husband's brother,
+whom she had never seen more than twice in her life, and who was
+understood to be small credit to his family. The aforesaid Sir Francis
+Challoner had been the poorest of English baronets. His property had
+dwindled down until it consisted simply of a half ruined residence in
+the north of England.
+
+In his young days Sir Francis had been a prodigal, and, like the
+prodigal in the parable, he had betaken himself into far countries,
+not to waste his substance, for he had none, but if possible to glean
+some of the Eastern riches.
+
+Whether he had been successful or not Mrs. Challoner hardly knew. That
+he had married and settled in Calcutta,--that he had a son named
+Harry, who had once written to her in round hand and subscribed
+himself as her affectionate nephew, Henry Ford Challoner--this she
+knew; but what manner of person Lady Challoner might be, or what sort
+of home her brother-in-law had made for himself, those points were
+enveloped in mystery.
+
+"I suppose she is so civil to me because of your uncle Francis," she
+used to say to her girls, which was attributing to Lady Fitzroy a
+degree of snobbishness that was quite undeserved. Lady Fitzroy really
+liked Mrs. Challoner and found intercourse with her very pleasant and
+refreshing. When one is perfectly well-bred, there is a subtile charm
+in harmony of voice and manner. Mrs. Challoner might have dressed in
+rags if she liked, and the young countess would still have aired her
+choicest smiles for her.
+
+It was lucky Nan had those few words from Dick, for they fell apart
+after this, and were separated the greater portion of the afternoon.
+
+Carriages began to drive in at the gates; groups of well-dressed
+people thronged the lawn, and were drafted off to the field where the
+band was playing.
+
+Nan and her sisters had their work cut out for them; they knew
+everybody and they were free of the house. It was they who helped Dick
+arrange the tennis-matches, who pointed out to the young men of the
+party which was the tea-tent, and where the ices and claret-cup were
+to be found. They marshalled the elder ladies into pleasant nooks,
+where they could be sheltered from the sun and see all that was going
+on.
+
+"No, thank you; I shall not play tennis this afternoon; there are too
+many of us, and I am so busy," Nan said, dismissing one after another
+who came up to her. "If you want a partner, there is Carrie Paine, who
+is dying for a game."
+
+Dick, who was passing with Lady Fitzroy on his arm, whom he was
+hurrying somewhat unceremoniously across the field, threw her a
+grateful glance as he went by.
+
+"What a sweet-looking girl that is!" said Lady Fitzroy, graciously, as
+she panted a little over her exertion.
+
+"Who?--Nan? Yes; isn't she a brick?--and the others too?" for Phillis
+and Dulce were just as self-denying in their labors. As Mr. Mayne said
+afterwards, "They were just everywhere, those Challoners, like a hive
+of swarming bees;" which, as it was said in a grumbling tone, was
+ungrateful, to say the least of it.
+
+Dick worked like a horse too; he looked all the afternoon as though he
+had a tough job in hand that required the utmost gravity and despatch.
+He was forever hurrying elderly ladies across the field towards the
+refreshment-tent, where he deposited them, panting and heated, in all
+sorts of corners.
+
+"Are you quite comfortable? May I leave you now? or shall I wait and
+take you back again?" asked Dick, who was eager for a fresh convoy.
+
+"No, no; I would rather stay here a little," returned Mrs. Paine, who
+was not desirous of another promenade with the hero of the day. "Go
+and fetch some one else, Dick: I am very well off where I am,"
+exchanging an amused glance with one of her friends, as Dick, hot and
+breathless, started off on another voyage of discovery.
+
+Dick's behavior had been simply perfect all the afternoon in his
+father's eyes; but later on, when the band struck up a set of
+quadrilles, he committed his first solecism in manners: instead of
+asking Lady Fitzroy to dance with him, he hurried after Nan.
+
+"This is our dance; come along," he said, taking her unwilling hand;
+but she held back a moment.
+
+"Are you sure? Is there not some one else you ought to choose?--Lady
+Fitzroy, for example?" questioned Nan, with admirable forethought.
+
+"Bother Lady Fitzroy!" exclaimed Dick, under his breath; he had had
+quite enough of that lady. "Why are you holding back, Nan, in this
+fashion?" a cloud coming over his face. "Haven't you promised weeks
+ago to give me the first dance?" And Nan, seeing the cloud on his
+face, yielded without another word. Dick always managed to have his
+own way somehow.
+
+"Dick! Dick!" cried his father, in a voice of agony, as they passed
+him.
+
+"All in good time; coming presently," returned the scapegrace,
+cheerfully. "Now, Nan, this is our place. We will have Hamilton and
+Dulce for our _vis-a-vis_. What a jolly day; and isn't this
+first-rate?" exclaimed Dick, rubbing his hands, and feeling as though
+he were only just beginning to enjoy himself.
+
+Nan was not quite so easy in her mind.
+
+"Your father does not look very pleased. I am afraid, after all, you
+ought to have asked Lady Fitzroy," she said, in a low voice; but Dick
+turned a deaf ear. He showed her the rose in his buttonhole; and when
+Nan told him it was withered, and wanted him to take it out, he gave
+her a reproachful look that made her blush.
+
+They were very happy after this; and, when the dance was over, Dick
+gave her his arm, and carried her off to see Vigo, who was howling a
+deep mournful bass at the back of the gardener's cottage.
+
+Nan made friends with him, and stroked his black curly head, and
+looked lovingly into his deep melancholy eyes; and then, as her
+flowers were fading, they strolled off into the conservatory, where
+Dick gathered her a fresh bouquet and then sat down and watched her
+arrange it.
+
+"What clever fingers you have got!" he said, looking at them
+admiringly, as Nan sorted the flowers in her lap; and at this unlucky
+moment they were discovered by Mr. Mayne, who was bringing Lady
+Fitzroy to see a favorite orchid.
+
+He shot an angry suspicious glance at his son.
+
+"Dick, your mother is asking for you," he said, rather abruptly; but
+Dick growled something in an undertone, and did not move.
+
+Nan gave him a frightened nudge. Why was he so imprudent?
+
+"I cannot move, because of my flowers; do go, Dick. You must indeed,
+if your mother wants you;" and she looked at him in such a pleading
+way that Dick dared not refuse. It was just like his father to come
+and disturb his first happy moments and to order him off to go and do
+something disagreeable. He had almost a mind to brave it out, and
+remain in spite of him; but there was Nan looking at him in a
+frightened, imploring way.
+
+"Oh, do go, Dick," giving him a little impatient push in her
+agitation; "if your mother wants you, you must not keep her waiting."
+But Nan in her heart knew, as Dick did in his, that the message was
+only a subterfuge to separate them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+"I AM QUITE SURE OF HIM."
+
+
+Nan would willingly have effected her escape too, but she was detained
+by the flowers that Dick had tossed so lightly into her lap. She was
+rather dismayed at her position, and her fingers trembled a little
+over their work. There was a breath--a sudden entering current--of
+antagonism and prejudice that daunted her. Lady Fitzroy cast an
+admiring look at the girl as she sat there with glowing cheeks and
+downcast lids.
+
+"How pretty she is!" she said, in a low voice, as Mr. Mayne pointed
+out his favorite orchid. "She is like her mother; there is just the
+same quiet style, only I suspect Mrs. Challoner was even better
+looking in her time."
+
+"Humph! yes, I suppose so," returned her host, in a dissatisfied tone.
+He had not brought Lady Fitzroy there to talk of the Challoners, but
+to admire his orchids. Then he shot another glance at Nan between his
+half-closed eyes, and a little spice of malice flavored his next
+words.
+
+"Shall we sit here a moment? Let me see: you were asking me, Lady
+Fitzroy, about Dick's prospects. I was talking to his mother about
+them the other day. I said to her then, Dick must settle in life well;
+he must marry money."
+
+"Indeed?" replied Lady Fitzroy, somewhat absently; she even indulged
+in a slight yawn behind her fan. She liked Dick well enough, as every
+one else did, but she was not partial to his father. How tiresome it
+was of Fitzroy to insist so much on their neighborly duties!
+
+Mr. Mayne was not "one of them," as she would have phrased it; he did
+not speak their language or lead their life; their manners and
+customs, their little tricks and turns of thought were hieroglyphics
+to him.
+
+A man who had never had a grandfather,--at least a grandfather worth
+knowing,--whose father's hands had dabbled in trade,--actually
+trade,--such a one might be a very worthy man, an excellent citizen,
+an exemplary husband and father, but it behooved a woman in her
+position not to descend too freely to his level.
+
+"Percival is such a sad Radical," she would say to herself; "he does
+not make sufficient distinction between people. I should wish to be
+neighborly, but I cannot bring myself to be familiar with these
+Maynes;" which was perhaps the reason why Lady Fitzroy was not as
+popular at Longmead and in other places as her good-natured husband.
+
+"Oh, indeed?" she said, with difficulty repressing another slight yawn
+behind her fan, but speaking in a fatigued voice: but Mr. Mayne was
+too intent on his purpose to notice it.
+
+"If Dick had brothers and sisters it would not matter so much; but
+when one has only a single hope--eh, Lady Fitzroy?--things must be a
+little different then."
+
+"He will have plenty of choice," she returned, with an effort at
+graciousness. "Oldfield is rich in pretty girls:" and she cast another
+approving glance at poor Nan, but Mr. Mayne interrupted her almost
+rudely.
+
+"Ah, as to that," he returned, with a sneer, "we want no such nonsense
+for Dick. Here are the facts of the case. Here is an honest,
+good-tempered young fellow, but with no particular push in him; he has
+money, you say,--yes, but not enough to give him the standing I want
+him to have. I am ambitious for Dick. I want him to settle in life
+well. Why, he might be called to the bar; he might enter Parliament;
+there is no limit to a man's career nowadays. I will do what I can for
+him, but he must meet me half-way."
+
+"You mean," observed Lady Fitzroy, with a little perplexity in her
+tone, "that he must look out for an heiress." She was not in the
+secret, and she could not understand why her host was treating her to
+this outburst of confidence. "It was so disagreeable to be mixed up
+with this sort of thing," as she told her husband afterwards. "I never
+knew him quite so odious before; and there was that pretty Miss
+Challoner sitting near us, and he never let me address a word to
+her."
+
+Nan began to feel she had had enough of it. She started up hastily as
+Lady Fitzroy said the last words, but the entrance of some more young
+people compelled her to stand inside a moment, and she heard Mr.
+Mayne's answer distinctly: "Well, not an heiress exactly; but the girl
+I have in view for him has a pretty little sum of money, and the
+connection is all that could be wished; she is nice-looking, too, and
+is a bright, talking little body----" But here Nan made such a
+resolute effort to pass, that the rest of the sentence was lost upon
+her.
+
+Dick, who was strolling up and down the lawn rather discontentedly,
+hurried up to her as she came out.
+
+"They are playing a valse; come, Nan," he said, holding out his hand
+to her with his usual eagerness; but she shook her head.
+
+"I cannot dance; I am too tired: there are others you ought to ask."
+She spoke a little ungraciously, and Dick's face wore a look of
+dismay, as she walked away from him with quick even footsteps.
+
+Tired! Nan tired! he had never heard of such a thing. What had put her
+out? The sweet brightness had died out of her eyes, and her cheeks
+were flaming. Should he follow her and have it out with her, there and
+then? But, as he hesitated, young Hamilton came over the grass and
+linked his arm in his.
+
+"Come and introduce me to that girl in blue gauze, or whatever you
+call that flimsy manufacture. Come along, there's a good fellow," he
+said, coaxingly; and Dick's opportunity was lost.
+
+But he was wrong; for once in her life Nan was tired; the poor girl
+felt a sudden quenching of her bright elasticity that amounted to
+absolute fatigue.
+
+She had spoken to Dick sharply; but that was to get rid of him and to
+recall him to a sense of his duty. Not for worlds would she be seen
+dancing with him, or even talking to him, again!
+
+She sat down on a stump of a tree in the shrubbery, and wondered
+wearily what had taken it out of her so much. And then she recalled,
+sentence by sentence, everything that had passed in the conservatory.
+
+She had found out quite lately that Mr. Mayne did not approve of her
+intimacy with Dick. His manner had somewhat changed to her, and
+several times he had spoken to her in a carping, fault-finding
+way,--little cut-and-dried sentences of elderly wisdom that she had
+not understood at the time.
+
+She had not pleased him of late, somehow, and all her little efforts
+and overtures had been lost upon him. Nan had been quite aware of
+this, but it had not troubled her much: it was a way he had, and he
+meant nothing by it. Most men had humors that must be respected, and
+Dick's father had his. So she bore herself very sweetly towards him,
+treating his caustic remarks as jokes, and laughing pleasantly at
+them, never taking his hints in earnest; he would know better some
+day, that was all; but she had no idea of any deeply-laid plan against
+their happiness. She felt as though some one had struck her hard; she
+had received a blow that set all her nerves tingling. It was very
+funny, what he said; it was so droll that it almost made her laugh;
+and yet her eyes smarted, and her cheeks felt on fire.
+
+"'Dick must marry money.' Why must he?--that was so droll. 'Well, not
+an heiress exactly, but a pretty little sum of money, and a bright,
+taking little body.' Who was this mysterious person whom he had in
+view, whose connections were so desirable, who was to be Dick's future
+wife? Dick's future wife!" repeated Nan, with an odd little quiver of
+her lip. "And was it not droll, settling it all for him like that?"
+
+Nan fell into a brown study, and then woke up with a little gasp. It
+was all clear to her now, all these cut-and-dried sentences,--all
+those veiled sneers and innuendoes.
+
+They were poor,--poor as church-mice,--and Dick must marry money. Mr.
+Mayne had laid his plans for his son, and was watching their growing
+intimacy with disapproving eyes. Perhaps "the bright, taking little
+body" might accompany them to Switzerland; perhaps among the mountains
+Dick would forget her, and lend a ready acquiescence to his father's
+plans. Who was she? Had Nan ever seen her? Could she be here this
+afternoon, this future rival and enemy of her peace?
+
+"Ah, what nonsense I am thinking!" she exclaimed to herself, starting
+up with a little shame and impatience at her own thoughts. "What has
+this all got to do with me? Let them settle it between
+them,--money-bags and all. Dick is Dick, and after all, I am not
+afraid!" And Nan marched back to the company, with her head higher,
+and a great assumption of cheerfulness, and a little gnawing feeling
+of discomfort at her heart, to which she would not have owned for
+worlds.
+
+Nan was the gayest of the gay that evening, but she would not dance
+again with Dick: she sent the poor boy away from her with a decision
+and peremptoriness that struck him with fresh dismay.
+
+"You are not tired now, Nan; and have been waltzing ever so long with
+Cathcart and Hamilton."
+
+"Never mind about me to-night: you must go and ask Lady Fitzroy. No, I
+am not cross. Do you think I would be cross to you on your birthday?
+but all the same I will not have you neglect your duties. Go and ask
+her this moment, sir!" And Nan smiled in his face in the most
+bewitching way, and gave a little flutter to her fan. She accepted Mr.
+Hamilton's invitation to a valse under Dick's very eyes, and whirled
+away on his arm, while Dick stood looking at her ruefully.
+
+Just at the very last moment Nan's heart relented.
+
+"Walk down to the gate with us," she whispered, as she passed him on
+her way to the cloak-room.
+
+Dick, who was by this time in a somewhat surly humor, make no sort of
+response; nevertheless Nan found him out on the gravel path waiting
+for them in company with Cathcart and Hamilton.
+
+Nan shook off the latter rather cleverly, and took Dick's arm, in
+cheerful unconsciousness of his ill-humor.
+
+"It is so good of you to come with us. I wanted to get you a moment to
+myself, to congratulate you on the success of the evening. It was
+admirably managed; every one says so: even Lady Fitzroy was pleased,
+and her ladyship is a trifle fastidious. Have the band in-doors, and
+set them to dancing,--that is what I said; and it has turned out a
+complete success," finished Nan, with a little gush of enthusiasm; but
+she did not find Dick responsive.
+
+"Oh! bother the success and all that!" returned that very misguided
+young man; "it was the slowest affair to me, I assure you, and I am
+thankful it is over. You have spoiled the evening to me, and that is
+what you have done," grumbled Dick, in his most ominous voice.
+
+"I spoiled your evening, you ungrateful boy!" replied Nan, innocently;
+but she smiled to herself in the darkness, and the reproach was sweet
+to her. They had entered the garden of Glen Cottage by this time, and
+Dick was fiercely marching her down a side-path that led to the
+kitchen. The hall door stood open. Cathcart and Hamilton were
+chattering with the girls in the porch, while Mrs. Challoner went
+inside. They peered curiously into the summer dusk, as Dick's
+impatient footsteps grated on the gravel path.
+
+"I spoiled your evening!" repeated Nan, lifting her bright eyes with
+the gleam of fun still in them.
+
+"Yes," blurted out Dick. "Why have you kept me at such a distance all
+the evening? Why would you not dance with me? and you gave Hamilton
+three valses. It was not like you, Nan, to treat me so,--and on my
+birthday too," went on the poor fellow, with a pathos that brought
+another sort of gleam to Nan's eyes, only she still laughed.
+
+"Ah, you foolish boy!" she said, and gave his coat-sleeve a coaxing
+little pat. "I would rather have danced with you than Mr. Hamilton,
+though he does reverse beautifully, and I never knew any one who
+waltzed more perfectly."
+
+"Oh, I do not presume to rival Hamilton," began Dick hotly, but she
+silenced him.
+
+"Listen to me, you foolish Dick! I would have danced with you, and
+willingly, but I knew my duty better, or rather I knew yours. You were
+a public man to-day; the eyes of the county were upon you. You had to
+pay court to the big ladies, and to take no notice of poor little me.
+I sent you away for your own good, and because I valued your duty
+above my pleasure," continued this heroic young person, in a perfectly
+satisfied tone.
+
+"And you wanted to dance with me, Nan, and not with that goose of a
+Hamilton?" in a wheedling voice.
+
+"Yes, Dick; but he is not a goose for all that: he is more of a swan
+in my opinion."
+
+"He is a conceited ass!" was the very unexpected reply, which was a
+little hard on Dick's chum, who was in many ways a most estimable
+young man and vastly his superior. "Why are you laughing, when you
+know I hate prigs? and Hamilton is about the biggest I ever knew." But
+this did not mend matters, and Nan's laugh still rang merrily in the
+darkness.
+
+"What are those two doing?" asked Phillis, trying to peep between the
+lilac-bushes, but failing to discover more than the white glimmer of
+Nan's shawl.
+
+Nan's laugh, though it was full of sweet triumph, only irritated Dick;
+the lord of the evening was still too sore and humiliated by all these
+rebuffs and repulses to take the fun in good part.
+
+"What is it that amuses you so?" he asked, rather crossly. "That is
+the worst of you girls; you are always so ready to make merry at a
+fellow's expense. You are taking Hamilton's part against me, Nan,--I,
+who am your oldest friend, who have always been faithful to you ever
+since you were a child," continued the young man, with a growing sense
+of aggravation.
+
+"Oh, Dick!" and Nan's voice faltered a little; she was rather touched
+at this.
+
+Dick took instant note of the change of key, and went on in the same
+injured voice:
+
+"Why should I look after all the big people and take no notice of you?
+Have I not made it my first duty to look after you as long as I can
+remember? Though the whole world were about us, would you not be the
+first and the principal to me?"
+
+"Don't, Dick," she said, faintly, trying to repress him; "you must not
+talk in that way, and I must not listen to you; your father would not
+like it." The words were sweet to her,--precious beyond
+everything,--but she must not have him speak them. But Dick, in his
+angry excitement, was not to be repressed.
+
+"What does it matter what he likes? This is between you and me, Nan;
+no one shall meddle between us two." But what imprudent speech Dick
+was about to add was suddenly quenched in light-pealing laughter. At
+this critical moment they were met and surrounded; before them was the
+red glow of Cathcart's cigar, the whiteness of Phillis's gown; behind
+were two more advancing figures. In another second the young people
+had joined hands: a dusky ring formed round the startled pair.
+
+"Fairly caught!" cried Dulce's sunshiny voice; the mischievous little
+monkey had no idea of the sport she was spoiling. None of the young
+people thought of anything but fun; Dick was just Dick, and he and Nan
+were always together.
+
+Dick muttered something inaudible under his breath; but Nan was quite
+equal to the occasion; she was still palpitating a little with the
+pleasure Dick's words had given her, but she confronted her tormentors
+boldly.
+
+"You absurd creatures," she said, "to steal a march on us like that!
+Dick and I were having a quarrel; we were fighting so hard that we did
+not hear you."
+
+"I enjoy a good fight above everything," exclaimed Cathcart, throwing
+away his cigar. He was a handsome dark-eyed boy, with no special
+individuality, except an overweening sense of fun. "What's the odds,
+Mayne? and who is likely to be the winner?"
+
+"Oh, Nan, of course," returned Dick, trying to recover himself. "I am
+the captive of her spear and of her bow: she is in possession of
+everything, myself included."
+
+The rest laughed at Dick's jest, as they thought it; and Mr. Hamilton
+said, "Bravo, Miss Challoner! we will help to drag him at your
+chariot-wheels." But Nan changed color in the darkness.
+
+They went in after this, and the young men took their leave in the
+porch. Dick's strong grip of the hand conveyed his meaning fully to
+Nan: "Remember, I meant it all," it seemed to say to her.
+
+"What did it matter? I am quite sure of him. Dick is Dick," thought
+Nan, as she laid her head happily on the pillow.
+
+As for Dick, he had a long ordeal before him ere he could make his
+escape to the smoking-room, where his friends awaited him. Mr. Mayne
+had a great deal to say to him about the day, and Dick had to listen
+and try to look interested.
+
+"I am sure Dick behaved beautifully," observed Mrs. Mayne, when the
+son and heir had at last lounged off to his companions.
+
+"Well, yes; he did very well on the whole," was the grudging response;
+"but I must say those Challoner girls made themselves far too
+conspicuous for my taste;" but to this his wife prudently made no
+reply.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+MR. TRINDER'S VISIT.
+
+
+The next few days passed far too quickly for Nan's pleasure, and
+Dick's last morning arrived. The very next day the Maynes were to
+start for Switzerland, and Longmead was to stand empty for the
+remainder of the summer. It was a dreary prospect for Nan, and in
+spite of her high spirits her courage grew somewhat low. Six months!
+who could know what might happen before they met again? Nan was not
+the least bit superstitious, neither was it her wont to indulge in
+useless speculations or forebodings; but she could not shake off this
+morning a strange uncanny feeling that haunted her in spite of
+herself--a presentiment that things were not going to be just as she
+would have them,--that Dick and she would not meet again in exactly
+the same manner.
+
+"How silly I am!" she thought, for the twentieth time, as she brushed
+out her glossy brown hair and arranged it in her usual simple
+fashion.
+
+Nan and her sisters were a little behind the times in some ways; they
+had never thought fit to curl their hair _en garcon_, or to mount a
+pyramid of tangled curls in imitation of a poodle; no pruning scissors
+had touched the light-springing locks that grew so prettily about
+their temples; in this, as in much else, they were unlike other girls,
+for they dared to put individuality before fashion, and good taste and
+a sense of beauty against the specious arguments of the multitude.
+
+"How silly I am!" again repeated Nan. "What can happen, what should
+happen, except that I shall have a dull summer, and shall be very glad
+when Christmas and Dick come together;" and then she shook her little
+basket of housekeeping keys until they jingled merrily, and ran
+downstairs with a countenance she meant to keep bright for the rest of
+the day.
+
+They were to play tennis at the Paines' that afternoon, and afterwards
+the three girls were to dine at Longmead. Mrs. Challoner had been
+invited also; but she had made some excuse, and pleaded for a quiet
+evening. She was never very ready to accept these invitations; there
+was nothing in common between her and Mrs. Mayne; and in her heart she
+agreed with Lady Fitzroy in thinking the master of Longmead odious.
+
+It was Mr. Mayne who had tendered this parting hospitality to his
+neighbors, and he chose to be much offended at Mrs. Challoner's
+refusal.
+
+"I think it is very unfriendly of your mother, when we are such old
+neighbors, and on our last evening, too," he said to Nan, as she
+entered the drawing-room that evening bringing her mother's excuses
+wrapped up in the prettiest words she could find.
+
+"Mother is not quite well; she does not feel up to the exertion of
+dining out to-night," returned Nan, trying to put a good face on it,
+but feeling as though things were too much for her this evening. It
+was bad enough for Mr. Mayne to insist on them all coming up to a long
+formal dinner, and spoiling their chances of a twilight stroll; but it
+was still worse for her mother to abandon them after this fashion.
+
+The new novel must have had something to do with this sudden
+indisposition; but when Mrs. Challoner had wrapped herself up in her
+white shawl, always a bad sign with her, and had declared herself
+unfit for any exertion, what could a dutiful daughter do but deliver
+her excuses as gracefully as she could? Nevertheless, Mr. Mayne
+frowned and expressed himself ill pleased.
+
+"I should have thought an effort could have been made on such an
+occasion," was his final thrust, as he gave his arm ungraciously to
+Nan, and conducted her with ominous solemnity to the table.
+
+It was not a festive meal, in spite of all Mrs. Mayne's efforts. Dick
+looked glum. He was separated from Nan by a vast silver epergne, that
+fully screened her from view. Another time she would have peeped
+merrily round at him and given him a sprightly nod or two; but how was
+she to do it when Mr. Mayne never relaxed his gloomy muscles, and when
+he insisted on keeping up a ceremonious flow of conversation with her
+on the subjects of the day?
+
+When Dick tried to strike into their talk, he got so visibly snubbed
+that he was obliged to take refuge with Phillis.
+
+"You young fellows never know what you are talking about," observed
+Mr. Mayne, sharply, when Dick had hazarded a remark about the
+Premier's policy; "you are a Radical one day, and a Conservative
+another. That comes of your debating societies. You take contrary
+sides, and mix up a balderdash of ideas, until you don't know whether
+you are standing on your head or your heels;" and it was after this
+that Dick found his refuge with Phillis.
+
+It was little better when they were all in the drawing-room together.
+If Mr. Mayne had invited them there for the purpose of keeping them
+all under his own eyes and making them uncomfortable, he could not
+have managed better. When Dick suggested a stroll in the garden, he
+said,--
+
+"Pshaw! what nonsense proposing such a thing, when the dews are heavy
+and the girls will catch their deaths of cold!"
+
+"We do it every evening of our life," observed Nan, hardily; but even
+she dared not persevere in the face of this protest, though she
+exchanged a rebellious look with Dick that did him good and put him in
+a better humor.
+
+They found their way into the conservatory after that, but were hunted
+out on pretence of having a little music; at least Nan would have it
+that it was pretence.
+
+"Your father does not care much for music, I know," she whispered, as
+she placed herself at the grand piano, while Dick leaned against it
+and watched her. It was naughty of Nan, but there was no denying that
+she found Mr. Mayne more aggravating than usual this evening.
+
+"Come, come, Miss Nancy!" he called out,--he always called her that
+when he wished to annoy her, for Nan had a special dislike to her
+quaint, old-fashioned name; it had been her mother's and grandmother's
+name; in every generation there had been a Nancy Challoner,--"come,
+come, Miss Nancy! we cannot have you playing at hide-and-seek in this
+fashion. We want some music. Give us something rousing, to keep us all
+awake." And Nan had reluctantly placed herself at the piano.
+
+She did her little best according to orders, for she dared not offend
+Dick's father. None of the Challoners were accomplished girls. Dulce
+sang a little, and so did Nan, but Phillis could not play the simplest
+piece without bungling and her uncertain little warblings, which were
+sweet but hardly true, were reserved for church.
+
+Dulce sang very prettily, but she could only manage her own
+accompaniments or a sprightly valse. Nan, who did most of the
+execution of the family, was a very fair performer from a young lady's
+point of view, and that is not saying much. She always had her piece
+ready if people wanted her to play. She sat down without nervousness
+and rose without haste. She had a choice little repertory of old songs
+and ballads, that she could produce without hesitation from
+memory,--"My mother bids me bind my hair," or "Bid your faithful Ariel
+fly," and such-like old songs, in which there is more melody than in a
+hundred new ones, and which she sang in a simple, artless fashion that
+pleased the elder people greatly. Dulce could do more than this, but
+her voice had never been properly tutored, and she sang her bird-music
+in bird-fashion, rather wildly and shrilly, with small respect to
+rule and art, nevertheless making a pleasing noise, a young foreigner
+once told her.
+
+When Nan had exhausted her little stock, Mr. Mayne peremptorily
+invited them to a round game; and the rest of the evening was spent in
+trying to master the mysteries of a new game, over the involved rules
+of which Mr. Mayne as usual, wrangled fiercely with everybody, while
+Dick shrugged his shoulders and shuffled his cards with such evident
+ill-humor that Nan hurried her sisters away half an hour before the
+usual time, in terror of an outbreak.
+
+It was an utterly disappointing evening; and, to make matters worse,
+Mr. Mayne actually lit his cigar and strolled down the garden-paths,
+keeping quite close to Nan, and showing such obvious intention of
+accompanying them to the very gate of the cottage that there could be
+no thought of any sweet lingering in the dusk.
+
+"I will be even with him," growled Dick, who was in a state of
+suppressed irritation under this unexpected surveillance; and in the
+darkest part of the road he twitched Nan's sleeve to attract her
+attention, and whispered, in so low a voice that his father could not
+hear him, "This is not good-bye. I will be round at the cottage
+to-morrow morning;" and Nan nodded hurriedly, and then turned her head
+to answer Mr. Mayne's last question.
+
+If Dick had put all his feelings in his hand-shake, it could not have
+spoken to Nan more eloquently of the young man's wrath and chagrin and
+concealed tenderness. Nan shot him one of her swift straightforward
+looks in answer.
+
+"Nevermind," it seemed to say; "we shall have to-morrow;" and then she
+bade them cheerfully good-night.
+
+Dorothy met her in the hall, and put down her chamber-candlestick.
+
+"Has the mother gone to bed yet, Dorothy?" questioned the young
+mistress, speaking still with that enforced cheerfulness.
+
+"No, Miss Nan; she is still in there," jerking her head in the
+direction of the drawing-room. "Mr. Trinder called, and was with her a
+long time. I thought she seemed a bit poorly when I took in the
+lamp."
+
+"Mamsie is never fit for anything when that old ogre has been," broke
+in Dulce, impatiently. "He always comes and tells her some nightmare
+tale or other to prevent her sleeping. Now we shall not have the new
+gowns we set our hearts on, Nan."
+
+"Oh, never mind the gowns," returned Nan, rather wearily.
+
+What did it matter if they had to wear their old ones when Dick would
+not be there to see them? And Dorothy, who was contemplating her
+favorite nursling with the privileged tenderness of an old servant,
+chimed in with the utmost cheerfulness:
+
+"It does not matter what she wears; does it, Miss Nan? She looks just
+as nice in an old gown as a new one; that is what I say of all my
+young ladies; dress does not matter a bit to them."
+
+"How long are you all going to stand chattering with Dorothy?"
+interrupted Phillis, in her clear decided voice. "Mother will wonder
+what conspiracy we are hatching, and why we leave her so long alone."
+And then Dorothy took up her candlestick, grumbling a little, as she
+often did, over Miss Phillis's masterful ways, and the girls went
+laughingly into their mother's presence.
+
+Though it was summer-time, Mrs. Challoner's easy-chair was drawn up in
+front of the rug, and she sat wrapped in her white shawl, with her
+eyes fixed on the pretty painted fire-screen that hid the blackness of
+the coals. She did not turn her head or move as her daughters entered;
+indeed, so motionless was her attitude that Dulce thought she was
+asleep, and went on tiptoe round her chair to steal a kiss. But Nan,
+who had caught sight of her mother's face, put her quickly aside.
+
+"Don't, Dulce; mother is not well. What is the matter, mammie,
+darling?" kneeling down and bringing her bright face on a level with
+her mother's. She would have taken her into her vigorous young arms,
+but Mrs. Challoner almost pushed her away.
+
+"Hush, children! Do be quiet, Nan; I cannot talk to you. I cannot
+answer questions to-night." And then she shivered, and drew her shawl
+closer round her, and put away Nan's caressing hands, and looked at
+them all with a face that seemed to have grown pinched and old all at
+once, and eyes full of misery.
+
+"Mammie, you must speak to us," returned Nan, not a whit daunted by
+this rebuff, but horribly frightened all the time. "Of course, Dorothy
+told us that Mr. Trinder has been here, and of course we know that it
+is some trouble about money." Then, at the mention of Mr. Trinder's
+name, Mrs. Challoner shivered again.
+
+Nan waited a moment for an answer: but, as none came, she went on in
+coaxing voice:
+
+"Don't be afraid to tell us, mother darling; we can all bear a little
+trouble, I hope. We have had such happy lives, and we cannot go on
+being happy always," continued the girl, with the painful conviction
+coming suddenly into her mind that the brightness of these days was
+over. "Money is very nice, and one cannot do without it, I suppose;
+but as long as we are together and love each other----"
+
+Then Mrs. Challoner fixed her heavy eyes on her daughter and took up
+the unfinished sentence:
+
+"Ah, if we could only be together!--if I were not to be separated from
+my children! it is that--that is crushing me!" and then she pressed
+her dry lips together, and folded her hands with a gesture of despair;
+"but I know that it must be, for Mr. Trinder has told me everything.
+It is no use shutting our eyes and struggling on any longer; for we
+are ruined--ruined!" her voice sinking into indistinctness.
+
+Nan grew a little pale. If they were ruined, how would it be with her
+and Dick! And then she thought of Mr. Mayne, and her heart felt faint
+within her. Nan, who had Dick added to her perplexities, was hardly
+equal to the emergency; but it was Phillis who took the domestic helm
+as it fell from her sister's hand.
+
+"If we be ruined, mother," she said, briskly, "it is not half so bad
+as having you ill. Nan, why don't you rub her hands! she is shivering
+with cold, or with the bad news, or something. I mean to set Dorothy
+at defiance, and to light a nice little fire, in spite of the clean
+muslin curtains. When one is ill or unhappy, there is nothing so
+soothing as a fire," continued Phillis as she removed the screen and
+kindled the dry wood, not heeding Mrs. Challoner's feeble
+remonstrances.
+
+"Don't, Phillis: we shall not be able to afford fires now;" and then
+she became a little hysterical. But Phillis persisted, and the red
+glow was soon coaxed into a cheerful blaze.
+
+"That looks more comfortable. I feel chilly myself; these summer
+nights are sometimes deceptive. I wonder what Dorothy will say to us;
+I mean to ask her to make us all some tea. No, mamma, you are not to
+interfere; it will do you good, and we don't mean to have you ill if
+we can help it." And then she looked meaningly at Nan, and withdrew.
+
+There was no boiling water, of course, and the kitchen fire was raked
+out; and Dorothy was sitting in solitary state, looking very grim.
+
+"It is time for folks to be in their beds, Miss Phillis," she said,
+very crossly. "I don't hold with tea myself so late: it excites
+people, and keeps them awake."
+
+"Mother is not just the thing, and a cup of tea will do her good.
+Don't let us keep you up, Dorothy," replied Phillis, blandly. "I have
+lighted the drawing-room-fire, and I can boil the kettle in there. If
+mother has got a chill, I would not answer for the consequences."
+
+Dorothy grew huffy at the mention of the fire, and would not aid or
+abet her young lady's "fad," as she called it.
+
+"If you don't want me, I think I will go to bed, Miss Phillis. Susan
+went off a long time ago." And, as Phillis cheerfully acquiesced in
+this arrangement, Dorothy decamped with a frown on her brow, and left
+Phillis mistress of the situation.
+
+"There, now, I have got rid of the cross old thing," she observed, in
+a tone of relief, as she filled the kettle and arranged the little
+tea-tray.
+
+She carried them both into the room, poising the tray skilfully in her
+hand. Nan looked up in a relieved way as she entered. Mrs. Challoner
+was stretching out her chilled hands to the blaze. Her face had lost
+its pinched unnatural expression; it was as though the presence of
+her girls fenced her in securely, and her misfortune grew more shadowy
+and faded into the background. She drank the tea when it was given to
+her, and even begged Nan to follow her example. Nan took a little to
+please her, though she hardly believed its solace would be great; but
+Phillis and Dulce drank theirs in a business-like way, as though they
+needed support and were not ashamed to own it. It was Nan who put down
+her cup first, and leaned her cheek against her mother's hand.
+
+"Now, mother dear, we want to hear all about it. Does Mr. Trinder say
+we are really so dreadfully poor?"
+
+"We have been getting poorer for along time," returned her mother,
+mournfully; "but if we had only a little left us I would not complain.
+You see, your father would persist in these investments in spite of
+all Mr. Trinder could say, and now his words have come true." But this
+vague statement did not satisfy Nan; and patiently, and with
+difficulty, she drew from her mother all that the lawyer had told
+her.
+
+Mr. Challoner had been called to the bar early in life, but his career
+had hardly been a successful one. He had held few briefs, and, though
+he worked hard, and had good capabilities, he had never achieved
+fortune; and as he lived up to his income, and was rather fond of the
+good things of this life, he got through most of his wife's money,
+and, contrary to the advice of older and wiser heads, invested the
+remainder in the business of a connection who only wanted capital to
+make his fortune and Mr. Challoner's too.
+
+It was a grievous error; and yet, if Mr. Challoner had lived, those
+few thousands would hardly have been so sorely missed. He was young in
+his profession, and if he had been spared, success would have come to
+him as to other men; but he was cut off unexpectedly in the prime of
+life, and Mrs. Challoner gave up her large house at Kensington, and
+settled at Glen Cottage with her three daughters, understanding that
+life was changed for her, and that they should have to be content with
+small means and few wants.
+
+Hitherto they had had sufficient; but of late there had been dark
+whispers concerning that invested money; things were not quite square
+and above-board; the integrity of the firm was doubted. Mr. Trinder,
+almost with tears in his eyes, begged Mrs. Challoner to be prudent and
+spend less. The crash which he had foreseen, and had vainly tried to
+avert, had come to-night. Gardiner & Fowler were bankrupt, and their
+greatest creditor, Mrs. Challoner, was ruined.
+
+"We cannot get our money. Mr. Trinder says we never shall. They have
+been paying their dividends correctly, keeping it up as a sort of
+blind, he says: but all the capital is eaten away. George Gardiner,
+too, your father's cousin, the man he trusted above every one,--he to
+defraud the widow and the fatherless, to take our money--my children's
+only portion--and to leave us beggared." And Mrs. Challoner, made
+tragical by this great blow, clasped her hands and looked at her girls
+with two large tears rolling down her face.
+
+"Mother, are you sure? is it quite as bad as that?" asked Nan; and
+then she kissed away the tears, and said something rather brokenly
+about having faith, and trying not to lose courage; then her voice
+failed her, and they all sat quiet together.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+PHILLIS'S CATECHISM.
+
+
+A veil of silence fell over the little party. After the first few
+moments of dismay, conjecture, and exclamation, there did not seem to
+be much that any one could say. Each girl was busy with her own
+thoughts and private interpretation of a most sorrowful enigma. What
+were they to do? How were they to live without separation, and without
+taking a solitary plunge into an unknown and most terrifying world?
+
+Nan's frame of mind was slightly monotonous. What would Dick say, and
+how would this affect certain vague hopes she had lately cherished?
+Then she thought of Mr. Mayne, and shivered, and a sense of coldness
+and remote fear stole over her.
+
+One could hardly blame her for this sweet dual selfishness, that was
+not selfishness. She was thinking less of herself than of a certain
+vigorous young life that was becoming strongly entwined with hers. It
+was all very well to say that Dick was Dick; but what could the most
+obstinate will of even that most obstinate young man avail against
+such a miserable combination of adverse influences,--"when the stars
+in their courses fought against Sisera"? And at this juncture of her
+thoughts she could feel Phillis's hand folding softly over hers with a
+most sisterly pressure of full understanding and sympathy. Phillis had
+no Dick to stand sentinel over her private thoughts; she was free to
+be alert and vigilant for others. Nevertheless, her forehead was
+puckered up with hard thinking, and her silence was so very expressive
+that Dulce sat and looked at her with grave unsmiling eyes, the
+innocent child-look in them growing very pathetic at the
+speechlessness that had overtaken them. As for Mrs. Challoner, she
+still moaned feebly from time to time, as she stretched her numb hands
+towards the comforting warmth. They were fine delicate hands, with the
+polished look of old ivory, and there were diamond rings on them that
+twinkled and shone as she moved them in her restlessness.
+
+"They shall all go; I will keep nothing," she said, regarding them
+plaintively; for they were heirlooms, and highly valued as relics of a
+wealthy past. "It is not this sort of thing that I mind. I would live
+on a crust thankfully, if I could only keep my children with me." And
+she looked round at the blooming faces of her girls with eyes brimming
+over with maternal fondness.
+
+Poor Dulce's lips quivered, and she made a horrified gesture.
+
+"Oh, mamsie, don't talk so. I never could bear crusts, unless they
+were well buttered. I like everything to be nice, and to have plenty
+of it,--plenty of sunshine, and fun, and holiday-making, and friends;
+and--and now you are talking as though we must starve, and never have
+anything to wear, and go nowhere and be miserable forever?" And here
+Dulce broke into actual sobs; for was she not the petted darling? and
+had she not had a life so gilded by sunshine that she had never seen
+the dark edge of a single cloud? So that even Nan forgot Dick for a
+moment, and looked at her young sister pityingly; but Phillis
+interposed with bracing severity:
+
+"Don't talk such nonsense, Dulce. Of course we must eat to live, and
+of course we must have clothes to wear. Aren't Nan and I thinking
+ourselves into headaches by trying to contrive how even the crusts you
+so despise are to be bought?" which was hardly true as far as Nan was
+concerned, for she blushed guiltily over this telling point in
+Phillis's eloquence. "It only upsets mother to talk like this." And
+then she touched the coals skilfully, till they spluttered and blazed
+into fury. "There is the Friary, you know," she continued, looking
+calmly round on them, as though she felt herself full of resources.
+"If Dulce chooses to make herself miserable about the crusts, we have,
+at least, a roof to shelter us."
+
+"I forgot the Friary," murmured Nan, looking at her sister with
+admiration; and, though Mrs. Challoner said nothing, she started a
+little as though she had forgotten it too. But Dulce was not to be
+comforted.
+
+"That horrid, dismal, pokey old cottage!" she returned, with a shrill
+rendering of each adjective. "You would have us go and live in that
+damp, musty, fusty place?"
+
+Phillis gave a succession of quick little nods.
+
+"I don't think it particularly dismal, or Nan either," she returned,
+in her brisk way. Phillis always answered for Nan, and was never
+contradicted. "It is not dear Glen Cottage, of course, but we could
+not begin munching our crusts here," she continued, with a certain
+grim humor. Things were apparently at their worst; but at least
+she,--Phillis,--the clever one, as she had heard herself called, would
+do her best to keep the heads of the little family above water. "It is
+a nice little place enough if we were only humble enough to see it;
+and it is not damp, and it is our own," running up the advantages as
+well as she could.
+
+"The Friary!" commented her mother, in some surprise: "to think of
+that queer old cottage coming into your head! And it so seldom lets.
+And people say it is dear at forty pounds a year; and it is so dull
+that they do not care to stay."
+
+"Never mind all that, mammy," returned Phillis, with a grave
+business-like face. "A cottage, rent-free, that will hold us, is not
+to be despised; and Hadleigh is a nice place, and the sea always suits
+you. There is the house, and the furniture, that belongs to us; and we
+have plenty of clothes for the present. How much did Mr. Trinder think
+we should have in hand?"
+
+Then her mother told her, but still mournfully, that they might
+possibly have about a hundred pounds. "But there are my rings and that
+piece of point-lace that Lady Fitzroy admired so----" but Phillis
+waved away that proposition with an impatient frown.
+
+"There is plenty of time for that when we have got through all the
+money. Not that a hundred pounds would last long, with moving, and
+paying off the servants, and all that sort of thing."
+
+Then Nan, who had worn all along an expression of admiring confidence
+in Phillis's resources, originated an idea of her own.
+
+"The mother might write to Uncle Francis, perhaps;" but at this
+proposition Mrs. Challoner sat upright and looked almost offended.
+
+"My dear Nan, what a preposterous idea! Your uncle Francis!"
+
+"Well, mammy, he is our uncle; and I am sure he would be sorry if his
+only brother's children were to starve."
+
+"You are too young to know any better," returned Mrs. Challoner,
+relapsing into alarmed feebleness; "you are not able to judge. But I
+never liked my brother-in-law,--never; he was not a good man. He was
+not a person whom one could trust," continued the poor lady, trying to
+soften down certain facts to her innocent young daughters.
+
+Sir Francis Challoner had been a black sheep,--a very black sheep
+indeed: one who had dyed himself certainly to a most sable hue; and
+though, for such prodigals, there may be a late repentance and much
+killing of fatted calves, still Mrs. Challoner was right in refusing
+to intrust herself and her children to the uncertain mercies of such a
+sinner.
+
+Now, Nan knew nothing about the sin; but she did think that an uncle
+who was a baronet threw a certain reflected glory or brightness over
+them. Sir Francis might be that very suspicious character, a black
+sheep; he might be landless, with the exception of that ruined
+tenement in the North; nevertheless, Nan loved to know that he was of
+their kith and kin. It seemed to settle their claims to
+respectability, and held Mr. Mayne in some degree of awe; and he knew
+that his own progenitors had not the faintest trace of blue blood, and
+numbered more aldermen than baronets.
+
+It would have surprised and grieved Nan, especially just now, if she
+had known that no such glory remained to her,--that Sir Francis
+Challoner had long filled the cup of his iniquities, and lay in his
+wife's tomb in some distant cemetery, leaving a certain red-headed Sir
+Harry to reign in his stead.
+
+"I don't think we had better talk anymore," observed Phillis, somewhat
+brusquely: and then she exchanged meaning looks with Nan. The two
+girls were somewhat dismayed at their mother's wan looks; her
+feebleness and uncertainty of speech, the very vagueness of her
+lamentations, filled them with sad forebodings for the future. How
+were they to leave her, when they commenced that little fight with the
+world? She had leaned on them so long that her helplessness had become
+a matter of habit.
+
+Nan understood her sister's warning glance, and she made no further
+allusion to Sir Francis; she only rose with assumed briskness, and
+took her mother in charge.
+
+"Now I am going to help you to bed, mammy darling," she said,
+cheerfully. "Phillis is quite right: we will not talk any more
+to-night; we shall want all our strength for to-morrow. We will just
+say our prayers, and try and go to sleep, and hope that things may
+turn out better than we expect." And, as Mrs. Challoner was too
+utterly spent to resist this wise counsel, Nan achieved her pious
+mission with some success. She sat down by the bedside and leaned her
+head against her mother's pillow, and soon had the satisfaction of
+hearing the even breathing that proved that the sleeper had forgotten
+her troubles for a little while.
+
+"Poor dear mother! how exhausted she must have been!" thought Nan, as
+she closed the door softly. She was far too anxious and wide awake
+herself to dream of retiring to rest. She was somewhat surprised to
+find her sisters' room dark and empty as she passed. They must be
+still downstairs, talking over things in the firelight: they were as
+little inclined for sleep as she was. Phillis's carefully decocted tea
+must have stimulated them to wakefulness.
+
+The room was still bright with firelight. Dulce was curled up in her
+mother's chair, and had evidently been indulging in what she called "a
+good cry." Phillis, sombre and thoughtful, was pacing the room, with
+her hands clasped behind her head,--a favorite attitude of hers when
+she was in any perplexity. She stopped short as Nan regarded her with
+some astonishment from the threshold.
+
+"Oh, come in, Nan: it will be such a relief to talk to a sensible
+person. Dulce is so silly, she does nothing but cry."
+
+"I can't help it," returned Dulce, with another sob; "everything is so
+horrible, and Phillis will say such dreadful things."
+
+"Poor little soul!" said Nan, in a sympathetic voice, sitting down on
+the arm of the chair and stroking Dulce's hair; "it is very hard for
+her and for us all," with a pent-up sigh.
+
+"Of course it is hard," retorted Phillis, confronting them rather
+impatiently from the hearth-rug; "it is bitterly hard. But it is not
+worse for Dulce than for the rest of us. Crying will not mend matters,
+and it is a sheer waste of tears. As I tell her, what we have to do
+now is to make the best of things, and see what is to be done under
+the circumstances."
+
+"Yes, indeed," repeated Nan, meekly; but she put her arm round Dulce,
+and drew her head against her shoulder. The action comforted Dulce,
+and her tears soon ceased to flow.
+
+"I am thinking about mother," went on Phillis, pondering her words
+slowly as she spoke; "she does look so ill and weak. I do not see how
+we are to leave her."
+
+Mrs. Challoner's moral helplessness and dread of responsibility were
+so sacred in her daughters' eyes that they rarely alluded to them
+except in this vague fashion. For years they had shielded and petted
+her, and given way to her little fads and fancies, until she had
+developed into a sort of gentle hypochondriac.
+
+"Mother cannot bear this; we always keep these little worries from
+her," Nan had been accustomed to say; and the others had followed her
+example.
+
+The unspoken thought lay heavy upon them now. How were they to prevent
+the rough winds of adversity from blowing too roughly upon their
+cherished charge? The roof, and perhaps the crust, might be theirs;
+but how were they to contrive that she should not miss her little
+comforts? They would gladly work; but how, and after what fashion?
+
+Phillis was the first to plunge into the unwelcome topic, for Nan felt
+almost as helpless and bewildered as Dulce.
+
+"We must go into the thing thoroughly," began Phillis, drawing a chair
+opposite to her sisters. She was very pale, but her eyes had a certain
+brightness of determination. She looked too young for that quiet
+care-worn look that had come so suddenly to her; but one felt she
+could be equal to any emergency. "We are down-hearted, of course; but
+we have plenty of time for all that sort of thing. The question is,
+how are we to live?"
+
+"Just so," observed Nan, rather dubiously; and Dulce gave a little
+gasp.
+
+"There is the Friary standing empty; and there is the furniture; and
+there will be about fifty pounds, perhaps less, when every thing is
+settled. And we have clothes enough to last some time, and----" here
+Dulce put her hands together pleadingly, but Phillis looked at her
+severely, and went on: "Forty or fifty pounds will soon be spent, and
+then we shall be absolutely penniless; we have no one to help us.
+Mother will not hear of writing to Uncle Francis; we must work
+ourselves or starve."
+
+"Couldn't we let lodgings?" hazarded Dulce, with quavering voice; but
+Phillis smiled grimly.
+
+"Let lodgings at the Friary! why, it is only big enough to hold us. We
+might get a larger house in Hadleigh; but no, it would be ruinous to
+fail, and perhaps we should not make it answer. I cannot fancy mother
+living in the basement story; she would make herself wretched over it.
+We are too young. I don't think that would answer, Nan: do you?"
+
+Nan replied faintly that she did not think it would. The mere
+proposition took her breath away. What would Mr. Mayne say to that?
+Then she plucked up spirit and went into the question vigorously.
+
+There were too many lodging-houses in Hadleigh now; it would be a
+hazardous speculation, and one likely to fail; they had not sufficient
+furniture for such a purpose, and they dare not use up their little
+capital too quickly. They were too young, too, to carry out such a
+thing, Nan did not add "and too pretty," though she colored and
+hesitated here. Their mother could not help them; she was not strong
+enough for housework or cooking. She thought that plan must be given
+up.
+
+"We might be daily governesses, and live at home," suggested Dulce,
+who found a sort of relief in throwing out feelers in every direction.
+Nan brightened up visibly at this, but Phillis's moody brow did not
+relax for a moment.
+
+"That would be nice," acquiesced Nan, "and then mother would not find
+the day so long if we came home in the evening; she could busy herself
+about the house, and we could leave her little things to do, and she
+would not find the hours so heavy. I like that idea of yours, Dulce;
+and we are all so fond of children."
+
+"The idea is as nice as possible," replied Phillis, with an ominous
+stress on the noun, "if we could only make it practicable."
+
+"Phil is going to find fault," pouted Dulce, who knew every inflection
+of Phillis's voice.
+
+"Oh, dear, no, nothing of the kind!" she retorted, briskly. "Nan is
+quite right: we all dote on children. I should dearly like to be a
+governess myself; it would be more play than work; but I am only
+wondering who would engage us."
+
+"Who?--oh, anybody!" returned Nan, feeling puzzled by the smothered
+satire of Phillis's speech. "Of course we are not certificated, and I
+for one could only teach young children; but----" here Phillis
+interrupted her:
+
+"Don't think me horrid if I ask you and Dulce some questions, but
+do--do answer me just as though I were going through the Catechism: we
+are only girls, but we must sift the whole thing thoroughly. Are we
+fit for governesses? what can you and I and Dulce teach?"
+
+"Oh, anything!" returned Nan, still more vaguely.
+
+"My dear Nanny, anything won't do. Come, I am really in earnest; I
+mean to catechise you both thoroughly."
+
+"Very well," returned Nan, in a resigned voice; but Dulce looked a
+little frightened. As for Phillis, she sat erect, with her finger
+pointed at them in a severely ominous fashion.
+
+"How about history, Nan? I thought you could never remember dates; you
+used to jumble facts in the most marvellous manner. I remember your
+insisting that Anne of Cleves was Louis XII.'s second wife; and you
+shocked Miss Martin dreadfully by declaring that one of Marlborough's
+victories was fought at Cressy."
+
+"I never could remember historical facts," returned Nan, humbly.
+"Dulce always did better than I; and so did you, Phillis. When I teach
+the children I can have the book before me." But Phillis only shook
+her head at this, and went on:
+
+"Dulce was a shade better, but I don't believe she could tell me the
+names of the English sovereigns in proper sequence;" but Dulce
+disdained to answer. "You were better at arithmetic, Nan. Dulce never
+got through her rule of three; but you were not very advanced even at
+that. You write a pretty hand, and you used to talk French very
+fluently."
+
+"Oh, I have forgotten my French!" exclaimed Nan, in a panic-stricken
+voice. "Dulce, don't you remember me quite settled to talk in French
+over our work three times a week, and we have always forgotten it; and
+we were reading Madame de Sevigne's 'Letters' together, and I found
+the book the other day quite covered with dust."
+
+"I hate French," retuned Dulce, rebelliously. "I began German with
+Phillis, and like it much better."
+
+"True, but we are only beginners," returned the remorseless Phillis:
+"it was very nice, of course, and the Taugenichts' was delicious; but
+think how many words in every sentence you had to hunt out in the
+dictionary. I am glad you feel so competent, Dulce; but I could not
+teach German myself, or French either. I don't remember enough of the
+grammar; and I do not believe Nan does either, though she used to
+chatter so to Miss Martin."
+
+"Did I not say she would pick our idea to pieces?" returned Dulce,
+with tears in her eyes.
+
+"My dear little sister don't look so dreadfully pathetic. I am quite
+as disheartened and disappointed as you are. Nan says she has
+forgotten her French, and she will have to teach history with an open
+book before her; we none of us draw--no, Dulce please let me finish
+our scanty stock of accomplishments. I only know my notes,--for no one
+cares to hear me lumber through my pieces,--and I sing at church. You
+have the sweetest voice Dulce, but it is not trained; and I cannot
+compliment you on your playing. Nan sings and plays very nicely, and
+it is a pleasure to listen to her; but I am afraid she knows little
+about the theory of music, harmony and thorough-bass: you never did
+anything in that way, did you, Nan?"
+
+Nan shook her head sadly. She was too discomfited for speech. Phillis
+looked at them both thoughtfully; her trouble was very real, but she
+could not help a triumphant inflection in her voice.
+
+"Dear Nan, please do not look so unhappy. Dulce, you shall not begin
+to cry again. Don't you remember what mother was reading to us the
+other day, about the country being flooded with incompetent
+governesses,--half-educated girls turned loose on the world to earn
+their living? I can remember one sentence of that writer, word for
+word: 'The standard of education is so high at the present day, and
+the number of certificated reliable teachers so much increased, that
+we can afford to discourage the crude efforts to teach, or un-teach,
+our children.' And then he goes on to ask, 'What has become of womanly
+conscientiousness, when such ignorance presses forward to assume such
+sacred responsibilities? Better the competent nurse than the
+incompetent governess.' 'Why do not these girls,' he asks, 'who,
+through their own fault or the fault of circumstances, are not
+sufficiently advanced to educate others--why do they not rather
+discharge the exquisitely feminine duties of the nursery? What an
+advantage to parents to have their little ones brought into the
+earliest contact with refined speech and cultivated manners,--their
+infant ears not inoculated by barbarous English!'" but here Phillis
+was arrested in her torrent of reflected wisdom by an impatient
+exclamation from Dulce.
+
+"Oh, Nan, do ask her to be quiet! She never stops when she once
+begins. How can we listen to such rubbish, when we are so wretched?
+You may talk for hours, Phil, but I never, never will be a nurse!" And
+Dulce hid her face on Nan's shoulder in such undisguised distress that
+her sisters had much ado to comfort her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+"WE SHOULD HAVE TO CARRY PARCELS."
+
+
+It was hard work to tranquillize Dulce.
+
+"I never, never will be a nurse!" she sobbed out at intervals.
+
+"You little goose, who ever thought of such a thing? Why will you
+misunderstand me so?" sighed Phillis, almost in despair at her
+sister's impracticability. "I am only trying to prove to you and Nan
+that we are not fit for governesses."
+
+"No, indeed; I fear you are right there," replied poor Nan, who had
+never realized her deficiences before. They were all bright, taking
+girls, with plenty to say for themselves, lady-like, and well-bred.
+Who would have thought that, when weighed in the balance, they would
+have been found so wanting? "I always knew I was a very stupid person;
+but you are different,--you are so clever, Phil."
+
+"Nonsense, Nanny! It is a sort of cleverness for which there is no
+market. I am fond of reading. I remember things, and do a great deal
+of thinking; but I am destitute of accomplishments: my knowledge of
+languages is purely superficial. We are equal to other girls,--just
+young ladies, and nothing more; but when it comes to earning our
+bread-and-butter----" Here Phillis paused, and threw out her hands
+with a little gesture of despair.
+
+"But you work so beautifully; and so does Nan," interrupted Dulce, who
+was a little comforted, now she knew Phillis had no prospective
+nurse-maid theory in view. "I am good at it myself," she continued,
+modestly, feeling that, in this case, self-praise was allowable. "We
+might be companions,--some nice old lady who wants her caps made, and
+requires some one to read to her," faltered Dulce, with her child-like
+pleading look.
+
+Nan gave her a little hug; but she left the answer to Phillis, who
+went at once into a brown study, and only woke up after a long
+interval.
+
+"I am looking at it all round," she said, when Nan at last pressed for
+her opinion; "it is not a bad idea. I think it very possible that
+either you or I, Nan,--or both, perhaps,--might find something in that
+line to suit us. There are old ladies everywhere; and some of them are
+rich and lonely and want companions."
+
+"You have forgotten me?" exclaimed Dulce, with natural jealousy, and a
+dislike to be overlooked, inherent in most young people. "And it is I
+who have always made mammy's caps and you know how Lady Fitzroy
+praised the last one."
+
+"Yes, yes; we know all that," returned Phillis, impatiently. "You are
+as clever as possible with your fingers; but one of us must stop with
+mother, and you are the youngest, Dulce; that is what I meant by
+looking at it all round. If Nan and I were away, it would never do for
+you and mother to live at the Friary. We could not afford a servant,
+and we should want the forty pounds a year to pay for bare
+necessaries; for our salary would not be very great. You would have to
+live in lodgings,--two little rooms, that is all; and even then I am
+afraid you and mother would be dreadfully pinched, for we should have
+to dress ourselves properly in other people's houses."
+
+"Oh, Phillis, that would not do at all!" exclaimed Nan, in a voice of
+despair. She was very pale by this time: full realization of all this
+trouble was coming to her, as it had come to Phillis. "What shall we
+do? Who will help us to any decision? How are you and I to go away and
+live luxuriously in other people's houses, and leave mother and Dulce
+pining in two shabby little rooms, with nothing to do, and perhaps not
+enough to eat, and mother fretting herself ill, and Dulce losing her
+bloom? I could not rest; I could not sleep for thinking of it. I would
+rather take in plain needlework, and live on dry bread if we could
+only be together, and help each other."
+
+"So would I," returned Phillis, in an odd, muffled voice.
+
+"And I too," rather hesitatingly from Dulce.
+
+"If we could only live at the Friary, and have Dorothy to do all the
+rough work," sighed Nan, with a sudden yearning towards even that very
+shabby ark of refuge: "if we could only be together, and see each
+other every day, things would not be quite so dreadful."
+
+"I am quite of your opinion," was Phillis's curt observation: but
+there was a sudden gleam in her eyes.
+
+"I have heard of ladies working for fancy-shops; do you think we could
+do something of that kind?" asked Nan, anxiously. "Even mother could
+help us in that; and Dulce does work so beautifully. It is all very
+well to say we have no accomplishments," went on Nan, with apathetic
+little laugh, "but you know that no other girls work as we do. We have
+always made our own dresses. And Lady Fitzroy asked me once who was
+our dressmaker, because she fitted us so exquisitely; and I was so
+proud of telling her that we always did our own, with Dorothy to
+help----"
+
+"Nan," interrupted Phillis, eagerly, and there was a great softness in
+her whole mien, and her eyes were glistening,--"dear Nan, do you love
+us all so that you could give up the whole world for our sakes,--for
+the sake of living together, I mean?"
+
+Nan hesitated. Did the whole world involve Dick, and could even her
+love for her sisters induce her voluntarily to give him up? Phillis,
+who was quick-witted, read the doubt in a moment, and hastened to
+qualify her words:
+
+"The outside world, I mean,--mere conventional acquaintances, not
+friends. Do you think you could bear to set society at defiance, to
+submit to be sent to Coventry for our sakes; to do without it, in fact
+to live in a little world of our own and make ourselves happy in it?"
+
+"Ah, Phillis, you are so clever, and I don't understand you," faltered
+Nan. It was not Dick she was to give up; but what could Phillis mean?
+"We are all fond of society; we are like other girls, I suppose. But
+if we are to be poor and work for our living, I dare say people will
+give us up."
+
+"I am not meaning that," returned her sister, earnestly; "it is
+something far harder, something far more difficult, something that
+will be a great sacrifice and cost us all tremendous efforts. But if
+we are to keep a roof over our heads, if we are to live together in
+anything like comfort, I don't see what else we can do, unless we go
+out as companions and leave mother and Dulce in lodgings."
+
+"Oh, no, no; pray don't leave us!" implored Dulce, feeling that all
+her strength and comfort lay near Nan.
+
+"I will not leave you, dear, if I can possibly help it," returned Nan,
+gently. "Tell us what you mean, Phillis, for I see you have some sort
+of plan in your head. There is nothing,--nothing," she continued, more
+firmly, "that I would not do to make mother and Dulce happy. Speak
+out; you are half afraid that I shall prove a coward, but you shall
+see."
+
+"Dear Nan, no; you are as brave as possible. I am rather a coward
+myself. Yes; I have a plan; but you have yourself put it into my head
+by saying what you did about Lady Fitzroy."
+
+"About Lady Fitzroy?"
+
+"Yes; your telling her about our making our own dresses. Nan, you are
+right: needlework is our forte; nothing is a trouble to us. Few girls
+have such clever fingers, I believe; and then you and Dulce have such
+taste. Mrs. Paine once told me that we were the best-dressed girls in
+the neighborhood, and she wished Carrie looked half as well. I am
+telling you this, not from vanity, but because I do believe we can
+turn our one talent to account. We should be miserable governesses; we
+do not want to separate and seek situations as lady helps or
+companions; we do not mean to fail in letting lodgings; but if we do
+not succeed as good dressmakers, never believe me again."
+
+"Dressmakers!" almost shrieked Dulce. But Nan, who had expressed
+herself willing to take in plain needlework, only looked at her sister
+with mute gravity; her little world was turned so completely upside
+down, everything was so unreal, that nothing at this moment could have
+surprised her.
+
+"Dressmakers!" she repeated, vaguely.
+
+"Yes, yes," replied Phillis, still more eagerly. The inspiration had
+come to her in a moment, full-fledged and grown up, like Minerva from
+the head of Jupiter. Just from those chance words of Nan's she had
+grasped the whole thing in a moment. Now, indeed she felt that she was
+clever; here at least was something striking and original; she took no
+notice of Dulce's shocked exclamation; she fixed her eyes solemnly on
+Nan. "Yes, yes; what does it matter what the outside world says? We
+are not like other girls; we never were; people always said we were so
+original. Necessity strikes out strange paths some times. We could not
+do such a thing here; no, no, I never could submit to that myself," as
+Nan involuntarily shuddered; "but at Hadleigh, where no one knows us,
+where we shall be among strangers. And then, you see, Miss Monks is
+dead."
+
+"Oh, dear! oh, dear! what does she mean?" cried Dulce, despairingly;
+"and what do we care about Miss Monks, if the creature be dead, or
+about Miss Anybody, if we have got to do such dreadful things?"
+
+"My dear," returned Phillis, with compassionate irony, "if we had to
+depend upon you for ideas----" and here she made an eloquent pause.
+"Our last tenant for the Friary was Miss Monks, and Miss Monks was a
+dressmaker; and, though perhaps I ought not to say it, it does seem a
+direct leading of Providence, putting such a thought into my head."
+
+"I am afraid Dulce and I are very slow and stupid," returned Nan,
+putting her hair rather wearily from her face: her pretty color had
+quite faded during the last half-hour. "I think if you would tell us
+plainly, exactly what you mean, Phillis, we should be able to
+understand everything better."
+
+"My notion is this," began Phillis, slowly: "remember, I have not
+thought it quite out, but I will give you my ideas just as they occur
+to me. We will not say anything to mother just yet, until we have
+thoroughly digested our plan. You and I, Nan, will run down to the
+Friary, and reconnoitre the place, judge of its capabilities, and so
+forth; and when we come back we will hold a family council."
+
+"That will be best," agreed Nan, who remembered, with sudden feelings
+of relief, that Dick and his belongings would be safe in the Engadine
+by that time. "But, Phillis, do you really and truly believe that we
+could carry out such a scheme?"
+
+"Why not?" was the bold answer. "If we can work for ourselves, we can
+for other people. I have a presentiment that we shall achieve a
+striking success. We will make the old Friary as comfortable as
+possible," she continued, cheerfully. "The good folk of Hadleigh will
+be rather surprised when they see our pretty rooms. No horse-hair
+sofa; no crochet antimacassars or hideous wax flowers; none of the
+usual stock-in-trade. Dorothy will manage the house for us; and we
+will all sit and work together, and mother will help us, and read to
+us. Aren't you glad, Nan, that we all saved up for that splendid
+sewing-machine?"
+
+"I do believe there is something, after all, in what you say," was
+Nan's response; but Dulce was not so easily won over.
+
+"Do you mean to say that we shall put up a brass plate on the door,
+with 'Challoner, dressmaker,' on it?" she observed, indignantly. A red
+glow mounted to Nan's forehead; and even Phillis looked disconcerted.
+
+"I never thought of that: well, perhaps not. We might advertise at the
+Library, or put cards in the shops. I do not think mother would ever
+cross the threshold if she saw a brass plate."
+
+"No, no; I could not bear that," said Nan, faintly. A dim vision of
+Dick standing at the gate, ruefully contemplating their name--her
+name--in juxtaposition with "dressmaker," crossed her mind directly.
+
+"But we should have to carry parcels, and stand in people's halls, and
+perhaps fit Mrs. Squails, the grocer's wife,--that fat old thing, you
+know. How would you like to make a dress for Mrs. Squails, Phil?"
+asked Dulce, with the malevolent desire of making Phillis as
+uncomfortable as possible; but Phillis, who had rallied from her
+momentary discomfiture, was not to be again worsted.
+
+"Dulce, you talk like a child; you are really a very silly little
+thing. Do you think any work can degrade us or that we shall not be as
+much gentlewomen at Hadleigh as we are here?"
+
+"But the parcels?" persisted Dulce.
+
+"I do not intend to carry any," was the imperturbable reply, "Dorothy
+will do that; or we will hire a boy. As for waiting in halls, I don't
+think any one will ask me to do that, as I should desire to be shown
+into a room at once; and as for Mrs. Squails, if the poor old woman
+honors me with her custom, I will turn her out a gown that shall be
+the envy of Hadleigh."
+
+Dulce did not answer this, but the droop of her lip was piteous; it
+melted Phillis at once.
+
+"Oh, do cheer up, you silly girl!" she said, with a coaxing face.
+"What is the good of making ourselves more miserable than we need? If
+you prefer the two little rooms with mother, say so; and Nan and I
+will look out for old ladies at once."
+
+"No! no! Oh, pray don't leave me!" still more piteously.
+
+"Well, what will you have us do? we cannot starve; and we don't mean
+to beg. Pluck up a little spirit, Dulce; see how good Nan is! You have
+no idea how comfortable we should be!" she went on, with judicious
+word-painting. "We should all be together,--that is the great thing.
+Then we could talk over our work; and in the afternoon, when we felt
+dreary, mother could read some interesting novel to us,"--a tremulous
+sigh from Nan at this point.
+
+What a contrast to the afternoons at Glen Cottage,--tennis, and
+five-o'clock tea, and the company of their young friends! Phillis
+understood the sigh, and hurried on.
+
+"It will not be always work. We will have long country walks in the
+evening; and then, there will be the garden and the sea-shore. Of
+course we must have exercise and recreation, I am afraid we shall have
+to do without society, for no one will visit ladies under such
+circumstances; but I would rather do without people than without each
+other, and so would Nan."
+
+"Yes, indeed!" broke in Nan; and now the tears were in her eyes.
+
+Dulce grew suddenly ashamed of herself. She got up in a little flurry,
+and kissed them both.
+
+"I was very naughty; but I did not mean to be unkind. I would rather
+carry parcels, and stand in halls,--yes, and even make gowns for Mrs.
+Squails,--than lose you both. I will be good. I will not worry you any
+more, Phil, with my nonsense; and I will work; you will see how I will
+work," finished Dulce, breathlessly.
+
+"There's a darling!" said Nan; and then she added, in a tired voice,
+"But it is two o'clock; and Dick is coming this morning to say
+good-bye; and I want to ask you both particularly not to say a word to
+him about this. Let him go away and enjoy himself, and think we are
+going on as usual; it would spoil his holiday; and there is always
+time enough for bad news," went on Nan, with a little tremble of her
+lip.
+
+"Dear Nan, we understand," returned Phillis, gently; "and you are
+right, as you always are. And now to bed,--to bed," she continued, in
+a voice of enforced cheerfulness; and then they all kissed each other
+very quietly and solemnly, and crept up as noiselessly as possible to
+their rooms.
+
+Phillis and Dulce shared the same room; but Nan had a little chamber
+to herself very near her mother's: a door connected the two rooms. Nan
+closed this carefully, when she had ascertained that Mrs. Challoner
+was still sleeping, and then sat down by the window, and looked out
+into the gray glimmering light that preceded the dawn.
+
+Sleep; how could she sleep with all these thoughts surging through her
+mind, and knowing that in a few hours Dick would come and say
+good-bye? and here Nan broke down, and had such a fit of crying as she
+had not had since her father died,--nervous, uncontrollable tears,
+that it was useless to stem in her tired, overwrought state.
+
+They exhausted her, and disposed her for sleep. She was so chilled and
+weary that she was glad to lie down in bed at last and close her eyes;
+and she had scarcely done so before drowsiness crept over her, and she
+knew no more until she found the sunshine flooding her little room,
+and Dorothy standing by her bed asking rather crossly why no one
+seemed disposed to wake this beautiful morning.
+
+"Am I late? Oh, I hope I am not late!" exclaimed Nan, springing up in
+a moment. She dressed herself in quite a flurry, for fear she should
+keep any one waiting. It was only at the last moment she remembered
+the outburst of the previous night, and wondered with some dismay what
+Dick would think of her pale cheeks and the reddened lines round her
+eyes, and only hoped that he would not attribute them to his going
+away. Nan was only just in time, for as she entered the breakfast-room
+Dick came through the veranda and put in his head at the window.
+
+"Not at breakfast yet? and where are the others?" he asked in some
+surprise, for the Challoners were early people, and very regular in
+their habits.
+
+"We sat up rather late last night, talking," returned Nan, giving him
+her hand without looking at him, and yet Dick showed to advantage this
+morning in his new tweed travelling suit.
+
+"Well, I have only got ten minutes. I managed to give the pater the
+slip: he will be coming after me, I believe, if I stay longer. This is
+first-rate, having you all to myself this last morning. But what's up,
+Nan? you don't seem quite up to the mark. You are palish, you know,
+and----" here Dick paused in pained embarrassment. Were those traces
+of tears? had Nan really been crying? was she sorry about his going
+away? And now there was an odd lump in Dick's throat.
+
+Nan understood the pause and got frightened.
+
+"It is nothing. I have a slight headache; there was a little domestic
+worry that wanted putting to right," stammered Nan; "it worried me,
+for I am stupid at such things, you know."
+
+She was explaining herself somewhat lamely, and to no purpose, for
+Dick did not believe her in the least. "Domestic worry!" as though she
+cared for such rubbish as that; as though any amount could make her
+cry,--her, his bright, high spirited Nan! No; she had been fretting
+about their long separation, and his father's unkindness, and the
+difficulties ahead of them.
+
+"I want you to give me a rose," he said, suddenly, _a propos_ of
+nothing, as it seemed; but looking up, Nan caught a wistful gleam in
+his eyes, and hesitated. Was it not Dick who had told her that
+anecdote about the queen, or was it Lothair? and did not a certain
+meaning attach to this gift? Dick was forever picking roses for her;
+but he had never given her one, except with that meaning look on his
+face.
+
+"You are hesitating," he said, reproachfully; "and on my last morning,
+when we shall not see each other for months;" And Nan moved towards
+the veranda slowly, and gathered a crimson one without a word, and put
+it in his hand.
+
+"Thank you," he said, quite quietly; but he detained the hand as well
+as the rose for a moment. "One day I will show you this again, and
+tell you what it means if you do not know; and then we shall see, ah,
+Nan, my----" He paused as Phillis's step entered the room, and said
+hurriedly, in a low voice, "Good-bye; I will not go in again. I don't
+want to see any of them, only you,--only you. Good-bye: take care of
+yourself for my sake, Nan." And Dick looked at her wistfully, and
+dropped her hand.
+
+"Has he gone?" asked Phillis, looking up in surprise as her sister
+came through the open window; "has he gone without finding anything
+out?"
+
+"Yes, he has gone, and he does not know anything," replied Nan, in a
+subdued voice, as she seated herself behind the urn. It was over now,
+and she was ready for anything. "Take care of yourself for my sake,
+Nan!"--that was ringing in her ears; but she had not said a word in
+reply. Only the rose lay in his hand,--her parting gift, and perhaps
+her parting pledge.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+A LONG DAY.
+
+
+Nan never recalled the memory of that "long gray day," as she inwardly
+termed it, without a shiver of discomfort.
+
+Never but once in her bright young life had she known such a day, and
+that was when her dead father lay in the darkened house, and her
+widowed mother had crept weeping into her arms as to her only
+remaining refuge; but that stretched so far back into the past that it
+had grown into a vague remembrance.
+
+It was not only that Dick was gone, though the pain of that separation
+was far greater than she would have believed possible, but a moral
+earthquake had shattered their little world, involving them in utter
+chaos.
+
+It was only yesterday that she was singing ballads in the Longmead
+drawing-room,--only yesterday; but to-day everything was changed. The
+sun shone, the birds sang, every one ate and drank and moved about as
+usual. Nan talked and smiled, and no stranger would have guessed that
+much was amiss; nevertheless, a weight lay heavy on her spirits, and
+Nan knew in her secret heart that she could never be again the same
+light-hearted, easy-going creature that she was yesterday.
+
+Later on, the sisters confessed to each other that the day had been
+perfectly interminable; the hours dragged on slowly; the sun seemed as
+though it never meant to set; and to add to their trouble, their
+mother looked so ill when she came downstairs, wrapped in her soft
+white shawl in spite of the heat, that Nan thought of sending for a
+doctor, and only refrained at the remembrance that they had no right
+to such luxuries now except in cases of necessity.
+
+Then Dorothy was in one of her impracticable moods, throwing cold
+water on all her young mistress's suggestions, and doing her best to
+disarrange the domestic machinery. Dorothy suspected a mystery
+somewhere; her young ladies had sat up half the night, and looked pale
+and owlish in the morning. If they chose to keep her in the dark and
+not take her into their confidence, it was their affair; but she meant
+to show them what she thought of their conduct. So she contradicted
+and snapped, until Nan told her wearily that she was a disagreeable
+old thing, and left her and Susan to do as they liked. She knew Mr.
+Trinder was waiting for her in the dining-room, and, as Mrs. Challoner
+was not well enough to see him, she and Phillis must entertain him.
+
+He had slept at a friend's house a few miles from Oldfield, and was to
+lunch at Glen Cottage and take the afternoon train to London.
+
+He was not sorry when he heard that Mrs. Challoner was too indisposed
+to receive him. In spite of his polite expressions of regret, he had
+found the poor lady terribly trying on the previous evening. She was a
+bad manager, and had muddled her affairs, and she did not seem to
+understand half of what he told her; and her tears and lamentations
+when she had realized the truth had been too much for the soft hearted
+old bachelor, though people did call him a woman-hater.
+
+"But I never could bear to see a woman cry; it is as bad as watching
+an animal in pain," he half growled, as he drew out his red
+pocket-handkerchief and used it rather noisily.
+
+It was easier work to explain everything to these two bright, sensible
+girls. Phillis listened and asked judicious questions; but Nan sat
+with downcast face, plaiting the table-cloth between her restless
+fingers, and thinking of Dick at odd intervals.
+
+She took it all in, however, and roused up in earnest when Mr. Trinder
+had finished his explanations, and Phillis began to talk in her turn;
+she was actually taking the old lawyer into her confidence, and
+detailing their scheme in the most business-like way.
+
+"The mother does not know yet,--this is all in confidence; but Nan and
+I have made up our minds to take this step," finished the young
+philosopher, calmly.
+
+"Bless my soul," ejaculated Mr. Trinder,--he had given vent to this
+expression at various intervals, but had not further interrupted her.
+"Bless my soul! my dear young ladies, I think--but excuse me if I am
+too abrupt, but you must be dreaming."
+
+Phillis shook her head smilingly; and as Dorothy came into the room
+that moment to lay the luncheon, she proposed a turn in the garden,
+and fetched Mr. Trinder's hat herself, and guided him to a side-walk,
+where they could not be seen from the drawing-room windows. Nan
+followed them, and tried to keep step with Mr. Trinder's shambling
+footsteps, as he walked between the girls with a hot perplexed face,
+and still muttering to himself at intervals.
+
+"It is all in confidence," repeated Phillis, in the same calm voice.
+
+"And you are actually serious? you are not joking?"
+
+"Do your clients generally joke when they are ruined?" returned
+Phillis, with natural exasperation. "Do you think Nan and I are in
+such excellent spirits that we could originate such a piece of
+drollery? Excuse me, Mr. Trinder, but I must say I do not think your
+remark quite well timed." And Phillis turned away with a little
+dignity.
+
+"No, no! now you are put out, and no wonder!" returned Mr. Trinder,
+soothingly; and he stood quite still on the gravel path, and fixed his
+keen little eyes on the two young creatures before him,--Nan, with her
+pale cheeks and sad eyes, and Phillis, alert, irritated, full of
+repressed energy. "Dear, dear! what a pity!" groaned the old man; "two
+such bonnie lasses and to think a little management and listening to
+my advice would have kept the house over your heads, if only your
+mother would have hearkened to me!"
+
+"It is too late for all that now, Mr. Trinder," replied Phillis,
+impatiently: "isn't it waste of time crying over spilt milk when we
+must be taking our goods to market? We must make the best of our
+little commodities," sighed the girl. "If we were only clever and
+accomplished, we might do better; but now----" and Phillis left her
+sentence unfinished, which was a way she had, and which people thought
+very telling.
+
+"But, my dear young lady, with all your advantages, and----" Here
+Phillis interrupted him rather brusquely.
+
+"What advantages? do you mean we had a governess? Well, we had three,
+one after the other; and they were none of them likely to turn out
+first-rate pupils. Oh, we are well enough, compared to other girls: if
+we had not to earn our own living, we should not be so much amiss.
+But, Nan, why don't you speak? why do you leave me all the hard work?
+Did you not tell us last night that you were not fit for a
+governess?"
+
+Nan felt rather ashamed of her silence after this. It was true that
+she was leaving all the onus of their plan on Phillis, and it was
+certainly time for her to come to her rescue. So she quietly but
+rather shyly endorsed her sister's speech, and assured Mr. Trinder
+that they had carefully considered the matter from every point of
+view, and, though it was a very poor prospect and involved a great
+deal of work and self-sacrifice, she, Nan, thought that Phillis was
+right, and that it was the best--indeed the only--thing they could do
+under the circumstances.
+
+"For myself, I prefer it infinitely to letting lodgings," finished
+Nan: and Phillis looked at her gratefully.
+
+But Mr. Trinder was obstinate and had old-fashioned views, and argued
+the whole thing in his dictatorial masculine way. They sat down to
+luncheon, and presently sent Dorothy away,--a piece of independence
+that bitterly offended that crabbed but faithful individual,--and
+wrangled busily through the whole of the meal.
+
+Mr. Trinder never could remember afterwards whether it was lamb or
+mutton he had eaten; he had a vague idea that Dulce had handed him the
+mint-sauce, and that he had declined it and helped himself to salad.
+The doubt disturbed him for the first twenty miles of his homeward
+journey. "Good gracious! for a man not to know whether he is eating
+lamb or mutton!" he soliloquized, as he vainly tried to enjoy his
+usual nap; "but then I never was so upset in my life. Those pretty
+creatures, and Challoners too,--bless my soul!" And here the lawyer's
+cogitations became confused and misty.
+
+Nan, who had more than once seen tears in the lawyer's shrewd little
+gray eyes, had been very gentle and tolerant over the old man's
+irritability; but Phillis had resented his caustic speeches somewhat
+hotly. Dulce, who was on her best behavior, was determined not to
+interfere or say a word to thwart her sisters: she even went so far as
+to explain to Mr. Trinder that they would not have to carry parcels,
+as Phillis meant to hire a boy. She had no idea that this magnanimous
+speech was in a figurative manner the last straw that broke the
+camel's back. Mr. Trinder pushed back his chair hastily, made some
+excuse that his train must be due, and beat a retreat an hour before
+the time, unable to pursue such a painful subject any longer.
+
+Nan rose, with a sigh of relief, as soon as the door closed upon their
+visitors, and took refuge in the shady drawing-room with her mother,
+whom she found in a very tearful, querulous state, requiring a great
+deal of soothing. They had decided that no visitors were to be
+admitted that afternoon.
+
+"You may say your mistress is indisposed with a bad headache, Dorothy,
+and that we are keeping the house quiet," Nan remarked, with a little
+dignity, with the remembrance of that late passage of arms.
+
+"Very well, Miss Nan," returned the old servant. However, she was a
+little cowed by Nan's manner: such an order had never before been
+given in the cottage. Mrs. Challoner's headaches were common events in
+every-day life, and had never been known before to interfere with
+their afternoon receptions. A little eau de Cologne and extra petting,
+a stronger cup of tea served up to her in her bedroom, had been the
+only remedies; the girls had always had their tennis as usual, and the
+sound of their voices and laughter had been as music in their mother's
+ears.
+
+"Very well, Miss Nan," was all Dorothy ventured to answer; but she
+withdrew with a face puckered up with anxiety. She took in the
+tea-tray unbidden at an earlier hour than usual; there were Dulce's
+favorite hot cakes, and some rounds of delicately-buttered toast, "for
+the young ladies have not eaten above a morsel at luncheon," said
+Dorothy in explanation to her mistress.
+
+"Never mind us," returned Nan, with a friendly nod at the old woman:
+"it has been so hot to-day," And then she coaxed her mother to eat,
+and made believe herself to enjoy the repast while she wondered how
+many more evenings they would spend in the pretty drawing-room on
+which they had expended so much labor.
+
+Nan had countermanded the late dinner, which they all felt would be a
+pretence and mockery; and as Mrs. Challoner's headache refused to
+yield to the usual remedies, she was obliged to retire to bed as soon
+as the sun set, and the three girls went out in the garden, and walked
+up and down the lawn with their arms interlaced, while Dorothy watched
+them from the pantry window, and wiped away a tear or two, as she
+washed up the tea-things.
+
+"How I should like a long walk?" exclaimed Dulce, impatiently. "It is
+so narrow and confined here; but it would never do: we should meet
+people."
+
+"No, it would never do," agreed her sisters, feeling a fresh pang that
+such avoidance was necessary. They had never hidden anything before,
+and the thought that this mystery lay between them and their friends
+was exquisitely painful.
+
+"I feel as though I never cared to see one of them again!" sighed poor
+Nan, for which speech she was rather sharply rebuked by Phillis.
+
+They settled a fair amount of business before they went to bed that
+night; and when Dorothy brought in the supper-tray, bearing a little
+covered dish in triumph, which she set down before Nan, Nan looked at
+her with grave, reproachful eyes, in there was a great deal of
+kindness.
+
+"You should not do this, Dorothy," she said, very gently: "we cannot
+afford such delicacies now."
+
+"It is your favorite dish, Miss Nan," returned Dorothy, quite ignoring
+this remark. "Susan has cooked it to a nicety; but it will be spoiled
+if it is not eaten hot." And she stood over them, while Nan dispensed
+the dainty. "You must eat it while it is hot," she kept saying, as she
+fidgeted about the room, taking up things and putting them down again.
+Phillis looked at Nan with a comical expression of dismay.
+
+"Dorothy, come here," she exclaimed, at last, pushing away her plate.
+"Don't you see that Susan is wasting all her talents on us, and that
+we can't eat to-day?"
+
+"Every one can eat if they try, Miss Phillis," replied Dorothy,
+oracularly. "But a thing like that must be hot, or it is spoiled."
+
+"Oh, never mind about it being hot," returned Phillis, beginning to
+laugh. She was so tired, and Dorothy was such a droll old thing; and
+how were even stewed pigeons to be appetizing under the
+circumstances?
+
+"Oh, you may laugh," began Dorothy, in an offended tone; but Phillis
+took hold of her and nearly shook her.
+
+"Oh, what a stupid old thing you are! Don't you know what a silly,
+aggravating old creature you can be when you like? If I laugh, it is
+because everything is so ludicrous and wretched. Nan and Dulce are not
+laughing."
+
+"No, indeed," put in Dulce; "we are far, far too unhappy!"
+
+"What is it, Miss Nan?" asked Dorothy, sidling up to her in a coaxing
+manner. "I am only an old servant, but it was me that put Miss Dulce
+in her father's arms,--'the pretty lamb,' as he called her, and she
+with a skin like a lily. If there is trouble, you would not keep it
+from her old nurse, surely?"
+
+"No, indeed, Dorothy: we want to tell you," returned Nan touched by
+this appeal; and then she quietly recapitulated the main points that
+concerned their difficulties,--their mother's loss, their future
+poverty, the necessity for leaving Glen Cottage and settling down at
+the Friary.
+
+"We shall all have to work," finished Nan, with prudent vagueness, not
+daring to intrust their plan to Dorothy: "the cottage is small, and,
+of course, we can only keep one servant."
+
+"I dare say I shall be able to manage if you will help me a little,"
+returned Dorothy, drying her old eyes with the corner of her apron.
+"Dear, dear! to think of such an affliction coming upon my mistress
+and the dear young ladies! It is like an earthquake or a flood, or
+something sudden and unexpected,--Lord deliver us! And to think of my
+speaking crossly to you Miss Nan, and you with all this worry on your
+mind!"
+
+"We will not think of that," returned Nan, soothingly. "Susan's
+quarter will be up shortly, and we must get her away as soon as
+possible. My great fear is that the work may be too much for you, poor
+Dorothy; and that--that--we may have to keep you waiting sometimes for
+your wages," she added, rather hesitatingly fearing to offend
+Dorothy's touchy temper, and yet determined to put the whole matter
+clearly before her.
+
+"I don't think we need talk about that," returned Dorothy, with
+dignity. "I have not saved up my wages for nineteen years without
+having a nest-egg laid up for rainy days. Wages,--when I mention the
+word, Miss Nan," went on Dorothy, waxing somewhat irate, "it will be
+time enough to enter upon that subject. I haven't deserved such a
+speech; no, that I haven't," went on Dorothy, with a sob. "Wages,
+indeed!"
+
+"Now, nursey, you shan't be cross with Nan," cried Dulce, throwing her
+arms round the old woman; for, in spite of her eighteen years, she was
+still Dorothy's special charge. "She's quite right; it may be an
+unpleasant subject, but we will not have you working for us for
+nothing."
+
+"Very well, Miss Dulce," returned Dorothy, in a choked voice preparing
+to withdraw; but Nan caught hold of the hard work-worn hand, and held
+her fast.
+
+"Oh, Dorothy, you would not add to our trouble now, when we are so
+terribly unhappy! I never meant to hurt your feelings by what I said.
+If you will only go to the Friary and help us to make the dear mother
+comfortable, I, for one, will be deeply grateful."
+
+"And you will not talk of wages?" asked Dorothy, mollified by Nan's
+sweet, pleading tones.
+
+"Not until we can afford to do so," returned Nan, hastily, feeling
+that this was a safe compromise, and that they should be eked out
+somehow. And then, the stewed pigeons being regarded as a failure,
+Dorothy consented to remove the supper tray, and the long day was
+declared at an end.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+THE FRIARY.
+
+
+Oldfield was rather mystified by the Challoners' movements. There were
+absolutely three afternoons during which Nan and her sisters were
+invisible. There was a tennis-party at the Paines' on one of these
+days, but at the last minute they had excused themselves. Nan's
+prettily-worded note was declared very vague and unsatisfactory, and
+on the following afternoon there was a regular invasion of the
+cottage,--Carrie Paine, and two of the Twentyman girls, and Adelaide
+Sartoris and her young brother Albert.
+
+They found Dulce alone, looking very sad and forlorn.
+
+Nan and Phillis had gone down to Hadleigh that morning, she explained
+in rather a confused way: they were not expected back until the
+following evening.
+
+On being pressed by Miss Sartoris as to the reason of this sudden
+trip, she added, rather awkwardly, that it was on business; her mother
+was not well,--oh, very far from well; and they had to look at a house
+that belonged to them, as the tenant had lately died.
+
+This was all very plausible; but Dulce's manner was so constrained,
+and she spoke with such hesitation, that Miss Sartoris was convinced
+that something lay behind. They went out in the garden, however, and
+chose sides for their game of tennis; and, though Dulce had never
+played so badly in her life, the fresh air and exercise did her good,
+and at the end of the afternoon she looked a little less drooping.
+
+It was felt to be a failure, however, by the whole party; and when tea
+was over, there was no mention of a second game. "No, we will not stay
+any longer," observed Isabella Twentyman, kissing the girl with much
+affection. "Of course we understand that you will be wanting to sit
+with your mother."
+
+"Yes, and if you do not come in to-morrow we shall quite know how it
+is," added Miss Sartoris, good-naturedly, for which Dulce thanked her
+and looked relieved.
+
+She stood at the hall door watching them as they walked down the
+village street, swinging their racquets and talking merrily.
+
+"What happy girls!" she thought, with a sigh. Miss Sartoris was an
+heiress, and the Twentymans were rich, and every one knew that Carrie
+and Sophy Paine would have money. "None of them will have to work,"
+said poor Dulce sorrowfully to herself: "they can go on playing tennis
+and driving and riding and dancing as long as they like." And then she
+went up to her mother's room with lagging footsteps and a cloudy
+brow.
+
+"You may depend upon it there is something amiss with those
+Challoners," said Miss Sartoris, as soon as they were out of sight of
+the cottage; "no one has seen anything of them for the last three or
+four days, and I never saw Dulce so unlike herself."
+
+"Oh, I hope not," returned Carrie, gravely, who had heard enough from
+her father to guess that there was pecuniary embarrassment at the
+bottom. "Poor little thing, she did seem rather subdued. How many
+people do you expect to muster to-morrow, Adelaide?" and then Miss
+Sartoris understood that the subject was to be changed.
+
+While Dulce was trying to entertain her friends, Nan and Phillis were
+reconnoitring the Friary.
+
+They had taken an early train to London, and had contrived to reach
+Hadleigh a little before three. They went first to Beach House,--a
+small unpretending house on the Parade, kept by a certain Mrs. Mozley,
+with whom they had once lodged after Dulce had the measles.
+
+The good woman received them with the utmost cordiality. Her place was
+pretty nearly filled, she told them proudly; the drawing-room had been
+taken for three months, and an elderly couple were in the
+dining-room.
+
+"But there is a bedroom I could let you have for one night," finished
+Mrs. Mozley, "and there is the little side parlor where you could have
+your tea and breakfast." And when Nan had thanked her, and suggested
+the addition of chops to their evening meal, they left their modest
+luggage and set out for the Friary.
+
+Phillis would have gone direct to their destination, but Nan pleaded
+for one turn on the Parade. She wanted a glimpse of the sea, and it
+was such a beautiful afternoon.
+
+The tide was out, and the long black breakwaters were uncovered; the
+sun was shining on the wet shingles and narrow strip of yellow sand.
+The sea looked blue and unruffled, with little sparkles and gleams of
+light, and white sails glimmered on the horizon. Some boatmen were
+dragging a boat down the beach; it grated noisily over the pebbles. A
+merry party were about to embark,--a tall man in a straw hat, and two
+boys in knickerbockers. Their sisters were watching them. "Oh, Reggie,
+do be careful!" Nan heard one of the girls say, as he waded knee-deep
+into the water.
+
+"Come, Nan, we ought not to dawdle like this!" exclaimed Phillis,
+impatiently; and they went on quickly, past the long row of
+old-fashioned white houses with the green before them and that sweet
+Sussex border of soft feathery tamarisk, and then past the
+cricket-field, and down to the whitewashed cottage of the Preventive
+Station; and then they turned back and walked towards the Steyne, and
+after that Nan declared herself satisfied.
+
+There were plenty of people on the Parade, and most of them looked
+after the two girls as they passed. Nan's sweet bloom and graceful
+carriage always attracted notice; and Phillis, although she generally
+suffered from comparison with her sister, was still very
+uncommon-looking.
+
+"I should like to know who those young ladies are," observed a
+military-looking man with a white moustache, who was standing at the
+Library door waiting for his daughter to make some purchases. "Look at
+them, Elizabeth: one of them is such a pretty girl, and they walk so
+well."
+
+"Dear father, I suppose they are only some new-comers: we shall see
+their names down in the visitors' list by and by;" and Miss Middleton
+smiled as she took her father's arm, for she was slightly lame. She
+knew strangers always interested him, and that he would make it his
+business for the next few days to find out everything about them.
+
+"Did you see that nice-looking woman?" asked Phillis, when they had
+passed. "She was quite young, only her hair was gray: fancy, a
+gray-haired girl!"
+
+"Oh, she must be older than she looks," returned Nan, indifferently.
+
+She was not looking at people: she was far too busily engaged
+identifying each well-remembered spot.
+
+There was the shabby little cottage, where she and her mother had once
+stayed after an illness of Mrs. Challoner's. What odd little rooms
+they had occupied, looking over a strip of garden-ground full of
+marigolds! "Marigolds-all-in-a-row Cottage," she had named it in her
+home letters. It was nearly opposite the White House where Mrs. Cheyne
+lived. Nan remembered her,--a handsome, sad-looking woman, who always
+wore black, and drove out in such handsome carriages.
+
+"Always alone; how sad!" Nan thought; and she wondered, as they walked
+past the low stone walls with grassy mounds slopping from them, and a
+belt of shrubbery shutting out views of the house, whether Mrs. Cheyne
+lived there still.
+
+They had reached a quiet country corner now; there was a clump of
+trees, guarded by posts and chains; a white house stood far back.
+There were two or three other houses, and a cottage dotted down here
+and there. The road looked shady and inviting. Nan began to look about
+her more cheerfully.
+
+"I am glad it is so quiet, and so far away from the town, and that our
+neighbors will not be able to overlook us."
+
+"I was just thinking of that as a disadvantage," returned Phillis,
+with placid opposition. "It is a pity, under the circumstances, that
+we are not nearer the town." And after that Nan held her peace.
+
+They were passing an old-fashioned house with a green door in the
+wall, when it suddenly opened, and a tall, grave looking young man, in
+clerical attire, came out quickly upon them, and then drew back to let
+them pass.
+
+"I suppose that is the new vicar?" whispered Phillis, when they had
+gone a few steps. "You know poor old Dr. Musgrave is dead, and most
+likely that is his successor."
+
+"I forgot that was the vicarage," returned Nan. But happily she did
+not turn round to look at it again; if she had done so, she would have
+seen the young clergyman still standing by the green door watching
+them. "It is a shabby, dull old house in front; but I remember that
+when mother and I returned Mrs. Musgrave's call we were shown into
+such a dear old-fashioned drawing-room, with windows looking out on
+such a pleasant garden. I quite fell in love with it."
+
+"Well, we shall be near neighbors," observed Phillis, somewhat
+shortly, as she paused before another green door, set in a long blank
+wall; "for here we are at the Friary, and I had better just run over
+the way and get the key from Mrs. Crump."
+
+Nan nodded, and then stood like an image of patience before the
+shabby green door. Would it open and let them into a new untried life?
+What sort of fading hopes, of dim regrets, would be left outside when
+they crossed the threshold? The thought of the empty rooms, not yet
+swept and garnished, made her shiver: the upper windows looked blankly
+at her, like blind, unrecognizing eyes. She was quite glad when
+Phillis joined her again, swinging the key on her little finger, and
+humming a tune in forced cheerfulness.
+
+"What a dull, shut-in place! I think the name of Friary suits it
+exactly," observed Nan, disconsolately, as they went up the little
+flagged path, bordered with lilac-bushes. "It feels like a miniature
+convent or prison: we might have a grating in the door, and answer all
+outsiders through it."
+
+"Nonsense!" returned Phillis, who was determined to take a bright view
+of things. "Don't go into the house just yet, I want to see the
+garden." And she led the way down a gloomy side-path, with unclipped
+box and yews, that made it dark and decidedly damp. This brought them
+to a little lawn, with tall, rank grass that might have been mown for
+hay, and some side-beds full of old fashioned flowers, such as lupins
+and monkshood, pinks and small pansies; a dreary little greenhouse,
+with a few empty flower-pots and a turned-up box was in one corner,
+and an attempt at a rockery, with a periwinkle climbing over it, and
+an undesirable number of oyster-shells.
+
+An old medlar tree, very warped and gnarled, was at the bottom of the
+lawn, and beyond this a small kitchen-garden, with abundance of
+gooseberry and currant-bushes, and vast resources in the shape of
+mint, marjoram, and lavender.
+
+"Oh, dear! oh, dear! what a wretched little place after our dear old
+Glen Cottage garden!" And in spite of her good resolutions, Nan's eyes
+grew misty.
+
+"Comparisons are odious," retorted Phillis, briskly. "We have just to
+make the best of things,--and I don't deny they are horrid,--and put
+all the rest away, between lavender, on the shelves of our memory."
+And she smiled grimly as she picked one of the gray spiky flowers.
+
+And then, as they walked round the weedy paths, she pointed out how
+different it would look when the lawn was mown, and all the weeds and
+oyster-shells removed, and the box and yews clipped, and a little
+paint put on the greenhouse.
+
+"And look at that splendid passion-flower, growing like a weed over
+the back of the cottage," she remarked, with a wave of her hand: "it
+only wants training and nailing up. Poor Miss Monks has neglected the
+garden shamefully; but then she was always ailing."
+
+They went into the cottage after this. The entry was rather small and
+dark. The kitchen came first: it was a tolerable-sized apartment, with
+two windows looking out on the lilacs and the green door and the blank
+wall.
+
+"I am afraid Dorothy will find it a little dull," Nan observed,
+rather ruefully. And again she thought the name of Friary was well
+given to this gruesome cottage; but she cheered up when Phillis opened
+cupboards and showed her a light little scullery, and thought that
+perhaps they could make it comfortable for Dorothy.
+
+The other two rooms looked upon the garden: one had three windows, and
+was really a very pleasant parlor.
+
+"This must be our work-room," began Phillis, solemnly, as she stood in
+the centre of the empty room, looking round her with bright knowing
+glances. "Oh, what an ugly paper, Nan! but we can easily put up a
+prettier one. The smaller room must be where we live and take our
+meals: it is not quite so cheerful as this. It is so nice having this
+side-window; it will give us more light, and we shall be able to see
+who comes in at the door."
+
+"Yes, that is an advantage," assented Nan. She was agreeably surprised
+to find such a good-sized room in the cottage; it was decidedly low,
+and the windows were not plate-glass, but she thought that on summer
+mornings they might sit there very comfortably looking out at the lawn
+and the medlar-tree.
+
+"We shall be glad of these cupboards," she suggested, after a pause,
+while Phillis, took out sundry pieces of tape from her pocket and
+commenced making measurements in a business-like manner. "Our work
+will make such a litter, and I should like things to be as tidy as
+possible. I am thinking," she continued, "we might have mother's great
+carved wardrobe in the recess behind the door. It is really a
+magnificent piece of furniture, and in a work-room it would not be so
+out of place; we could hang up the finished and unfinished dresses in
+it out of the dust. And we could have the little drawing-room
+chiffonnier between the windows for our pieces, and odds and ends in
+the cupboards. It is a pity our table is round; but perhaps it will
+look all the more comfortable. The sewing-machine must be in the
+side-window," added Nan, who was quite in her element now, for she
+loved all housewifely arrangements; "and mother's easy-chair and
+little table must stand by the fireplace. My davenport will be useful
+for papers and accounts."
+
+"It is really a very convenient room," returned Phillis, in a
+satisfied voice, when they had exhausted its capabilities; and, though
+the second parlor was small and dull in comparison, even Nan dropped
+no disparaging word.
+
+Both of them agreed it would do very well. There was a place for the
+large roomy couch that their mother so much affected, and their
+favorite chairs and knick-knacks would soon make it look cosey: and
+after this they went upstairs hand in hand.
+
+There were only four bedrooms, and two of these were not large; the
+most cheerful one was, of course, allotted to their mother, and the
+next in size must be for Phillis and Dulce. Nan was to have a small
+one next to her mother.
+
+The evening was drawing on by the time they had finished their
+measurements and left the cottage. Nan, who was tired and wanted her
+tea, was for hurrying on to Beach House; but Phillis insisted on
+calling at the Library. She wanted to put some questions to Miss
+Milner. To-morrow they would have the paper-hanger, and look out for a
+gardener, and there was Mrs. Crump to interview about cleaning down
+the cottage.
+
+"Oh, very well," returned Nan, wearily, and she followed Phillis into
+the shop, where good-natured bustling Miss Milner came to them at
+once.
+
+Phillis put the question to her in a low voice, for there were other
+customers exchanging books over the counter. The same young clergyman
+they had before noticed had just bought a local paper, and was waiting
+evidently for a young lady who was turning over some magazines quite
+close to them.
+
+"Do we know of a good dressmaker in the place?" repeated Miss Milner,
+in her loud cheerful voice, very much to Nan's discomfort, for the
+clergyman looked up from his paper at once. "Miss Monks was a
+tolerable fit, but, poor thing! she died a few weeks ago; and Mrs.
+Slasher, who lives over Viner's the haberdasher's, cannot hold a
+candle to her. Miss Masham there,"--pointing to a smart ringleted
+young person, evidently her assistant,--"had her gown ruined by her:
+hadn't you, Miss Masham?"
+
+Miss Masham simpered, but her reply was inaudible; but the young lady
+who was standing near them suddenly turned round:
+
+"There is Mrs. Langley, who lives just by. I shall be very happy to
+give these ladies her address, for she is a widow with little
+children, and I am anxious to procure her work--" and then she looked
+at Nan, and hesitated; "that is, if you are not very particular," she
+added, with sudden embarrassment, for even in her morning dress there
+was a certain style about Nan that distinguished her from other
+people.
+
+"Thank you, Miss Drummond," returned Miss Milner, gratefully. "Shall I
+write down the address for you, ma'am?"
+
+"Yes,--no,--thank you very much, but perhaps it does not matter,"
+returned Nan, hurriedly, feeling awkward for the first time in her
+life. But Phillis, who realized all the humor of the situation,
+interposed:
+
+"The address will do us no harm, and we may as well have it, although
+we should not trouble Mrs. Langley. I will call in again, Miss Milner,
+to-morrow morning, and then I will explain what it is we really want.
+We are in a hurry now," continued Phillis, loftily, turning away with
+a dignified inclination of her head toward the officious stranger.
+
+Phillis was not prepossessed in her favor. She was a dark, wiry little
+person, not exactly plain, but with an odd, comical face; and she was
+dressed so dowdily and with such utter disregard of taste that Phillis
+instinctively felt Mrs. Langley was not to be dreaded.
+
+"What a queer little body! Do you think she belongs to him?" she asked
+Nan, as they walked rapidly toward Beach House.
+
+"What in the world made you strike in after that fashion?" demanded
+the young man, as he and his companion followed more slowly in the
+strangers' footsteps. "That is just your way, Mattie, interfering and
+meddling in other folks' affairs. Why cannot you mind your own
+business sometimes," he continued, irritably, "instead of putting your
+foot into other people's?"
+
+"You are as cross as two sticks this afternoon, Archie," returned his
+sister, composedly. She had a sharp little pecking voice that seemed
+to match her, somehow; for she was not unlike a bright-eyed bird, and
+had quick pouncing movements. "Wait a moment: my braid has got torn,
+and is dragging."
+
+"I wish you would think a little more of my position, and take greater
+pains with your appearance," returned her brother, in an annoyed
+voice. "What would Grace say to see what a fright you make of
+yourself? It is a sin and a shame for a woman to be untidy or careless
+in her dress; it is unfeminine! it is unlady-like!" hurling each
+separate epithet at her.
+
+Perhaps Miss Drummond was used to these compliments, for she merely
+pinned her braid without seeming the least put out.
+
+"I think I am a little shabby," she remarked, tranquilly, as they at
+last walked on. "Perhaps Mrs. Langley had better make me a dress too,"
+with a laugh, for, in spite of her sharp voice, she was an
+even-tempered little body; but this last remark only added fuel to his
+wrath.
+
+"You really have less sense than a child. The idea of recommending a
+person like Mrs. Langley to those young ladies,--a woman who works for
+Miss Masham!"
+
+"They were very plainly dressed, Archie," returned poor Mattie, who
+felt this last snub acutely; for, if there was one thing upon which
+she prided herself, it was her good sense. "They had dark print
+dresses,--not as good as the one I have on,--and nothing could be
+quieter."
+
+"Oh, you absurd little goose!" exclaimed her brother, and he burst
+into a laugh, for the drollery of the comparison restored him to
+instant good humor. "If you cannot see the difference between that
+frumpish gown of yours, with its little bobtails and fringes, and
+those pretty dresses before us, I must say you are as blind as a bat,
+Mattie."
+
+"Oh, never mind my gown," returned Mattie, with a sigh.
+
+She had had these home-thrusts to meet and parry nearly every day,
+ever since she had come to keep house for this fastidious brother. She
+was a very active, bustling little person, who had done a great deal
+of tough work in her day, but she never could be made to see that
+unless a woman add the graces of life to the cardinal virtues she is,
+comparatively speaking, a failure in the eyes of the other sex.
+
+So, though Mattie was a frugal housekeeper, and worked from morning to
+night in his service,--the veriest little drudge that was ever
+seen,--she was a perpetual eyesore to her brother, who loved feminine
+grace and repose,--whose tastes were fastidious and somewhat
+arbitrary. And so it was poor Mattie had more censure than praise, and
+wrote home piteous letters complaining that nothing she did seemed to
+satisfy Archie, and that her mother had made a great mistake in
+sending her, and not Grace, to preside over his bachelor
+establishment.
+
+"Oh, Phillis, how shall we have courage to publish our plan?"
+exclaimed Nan, when they were at last discussing the much-needed tea
+and chops in the little parlor at Beach House.
+
+The window was wide open. The returning tide was coming in with a
+pleasant ripple and wash over the shingle. The Parade was nearly
+empty; but some children's voices sounded from the green space before
+the houses. The brown sail of a fishing craft dipped into the horizon.
+It was so cool, so quiet, so restful; but Nan's eyes were weary, and
+she put the question wistfully.
+
+Phillis looked into the teapot to gain a moment's reprieve; the
+corners of her mouth had an odd pucker in them.
+
+"I never said it was not hard," she burst out at last. "I felt like a
+fool myself while I was speaking to Miss Milner; but then that
+clergyman was peeping at us between the folds of his paper. He seemed
+a nice-looking, gentlemanly sort of man. Do you think that queer
+little lady in the plaid dress could be his wife? Oh, no; I remember
+Miss Milner addressed her as Miss Drummond. Then she must be his
+sister: how odd!"
+
+"Why should it be odd?" remarked Nan, absently, who had not
+particularly noticed them.
+
+"Oh, she was such a dowdy little thing, not a bit nice-looking, and he
+was quite handsome, and looked rather distinguished. You know I always
+take stock of people, and make up my mind about them at once. And then
+we are to be such close neighbors."
+
+"I don't suppose we shall see much of them," was Nan's somewhat
+depressed reply; and then, as they had finished their tea they placed
+themselves at the open window, and began to talk about the business of
+next day; and, in discussing cupboards and new papers, Nan forgot her
+fatigue, and grew so interested that it was quite late before they
+thought of retiring to rest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+"TELL US ALL ABOUT IT, NAN."
+
+
+Nan overslept herself, and was rather late the next morning; but as
+she entered the parlor, with an exclamation of penitence for her
+tardiness, she found her little speech was addressed to the empty
+walls. A moment after, a shadow crossed the window, and Phillis came
+in.
+
+She went up to Nan and kissed her, and there was a gleam of fun in her
+eyes.
+
+"Oh, you lazy girl!" she said; "leaving me all the hard work to do. Do
+you know, I have been around to the Library, and have had it all out
+with Miss Milner; and in the Steyne I met the clergyman again,
+and--would you believe it; he looked quite disappointed because you
+were not there!"
+
+"Nonsense!" returned Nan, sharply. She never liked this sort of joking
+speeches: they seemed treasonable to Dick.
+
+"Oh, but he did," persisted Phillis, who was a little excited and
+reckless after her morning's work. "He threw me a disparaging glance,
+which said, as plainly as possible, 'Why are you not the other one?'
+That comes from having a sister handsomer than one's self."
+
+"Oh, Phillis! when people always think you so nice, and when you are
+so clever!"
+
+Phillis got up and executed a little courtesy in the prettiest way,
+and then she sank down upon her chair in pretended exhaustion.
+
+"What I have been through! But I have come out of it alive. Confess,
+now, there's a dear, that you could not have done it!"
+
+"No; indeed," with an alarmed air. "Do you really mean to say that you
+actually told Miss Milner what we meant to do?"
+
+"I told her everything. There, sit down and begin your breakfast, Nan,
+or we shall never be ready. I found her alone in the shop. Thank
+goodness, that Miss Masham was not there. I have taken a dislike to
+that simpering young person, and would rather make a dress for Mrs.
+Squails any day than for her. I told her the truth, without a bit of
+disguise. Would you believe it, the good creature actually cried about
+it! she quite upset me too. 'Such young ladies! dear, dear: one does
+not often see such,' she kept saying over and over again. And then she
+put out her hand and stroked my dress, and said, 'Such a beautiful
+fit, too; and to think you have made it yourself! such a clever young
+lady! Oh, dear! whatever will Mr. Drummond and Miss Mattie say?'
+Stupid old thing! as though we cared what he said!"
+
+"Oh, Phillis! and she cried over it?"
+
+"She did indeed. I am not exaggerating. Two big round tears rolled
+down her cheeks. I could have kissed her for them. And then she made
+me sit down in the little room behind the shop, where she was having
+her breakfast, and poured me out a cup of tea and----" But here Nan
+interrupted her, and there was a trace of anxiety in her manner.
+
+"Poured you out a cup of tea! Miss Milner! And you drank it!"
+
+"Of course I drank it; it was very good, and I was thirsty."
+
+But here Nan pounced upon her unexpectedly, and dragged her to the
+window.
+
+"Your fun is only make-believe: there is no true ring about it. Let me
+see your eyes. Oh, Phil, Phil! I thought so! You have been crying,
+too!"
+
+Phillis looked a little taken aback. Nan was too sharp for her. She
+tried to shake herself free a little pettishly.
+
+"Well, if I choose to make a fool of myself for once in my life, you
+need not be silly about it; the old thing was so upsetting, and--and
+it was so hard to get it out." Phillis would not have told for worlds
+how utterly she had broken down over that task of hers; how the
+stranger's sympathy had touched so painful a chord that, before she
+knew what she was doing, she had laid her head down on the counter and
+was crying like a baby,--all the more that she had so bravely pent up
+her feelings all these days that she might not dishearten her
+sisters.
+
+But, as Nan petted and praised her, she did tell how good Miss Milner
+had been to her.
+
+"Fancy a fat old thing like that having such fine feelings," she said,
+with an attempt to recover her sprightliness. "She was as good as a
+mother to me,--made me sit in the easy-chair, and brought me some
+elder-flower water to bathe my eyes, and tried to cheer me up by
+saying that we should have plenty of work. She has promised not to
+tell any one just yet about us; but when we are really in the Friary
+she will speak to people and recommend us: and--" here Phillis gave a
+little laugh--"we are to make up a new black silk for her that her
+brother has just sent her. Oh, dear, what will mother say to us, Nan?"
+And Phillis looked at her in an alarmed, beseeching way, as though in
+sore need of comfort.
+
+Nan looked grave; but there was no hesitation in her answer:
+
+"I am afraid it is too late to think of that now, Phil: it has to be
+done, and we must just go through with it."
+
+"You are right, Nanny darling, we must just go through with it,"
+agreed Phillis; and then they went on with their unfinished breakfast,
+and after that the business of the day began.
+
+It was late in the evening when they reached home. Dulce who was at
+the gate looking out for them, nearly smothered them with kisses.
+
+"Oh, you dear things! how glad I am to get you back," she said,
+holding them both. "Have you really only been away since yesterday
+morning? It seems a week at least."
+
+"You ridiculous child! as though we believe that! But how is mother?"
+
+"Oh, pretty well: but she will be better now you are back. Do you
+know," eying them both very gravely, "I think it was a wise thing of
+you to go away like that? it has shown me that mother and I could not
+do without you at all: we should have pined away in those lodgings; it
+has quite reconciled me to the plan," finished Dulce, in a loud
+whisper that reached her mother's ears.
+
+"What plan? What are you talking about, Dulce? and why do you keep
+your sisters standing in the hall?" asked Mrs. Challoner, a little
+irritably. But her brief nervousness vanished at the sight of their
+faces: she wanted nothing more, she told herself, but to see them
+round her, and hear their voices.
+
+She grew quite cheerful when Phillis told her about the new papers,
+and how Mrs. Crump was to clean down the cottage, and how Crump had
+promised to mow the grass and paint the greenhouse, and Jack and
+Bobbie were to weed the garden-paths.
+
+"It is a perfect wilderness now, mother: you never saw such a place."
+
+"Never mind, so that it will hold us, and that we shall all be
+together," she returned, with a smile. "But Dulce talked of some plan:
+you must let me hear it, my dears; you must not keep me in the dark
+about anything. I know we shall all have to work," continued the poor
+lady; "but if we be all together, if you will promise not to leave me,
+I think I could bear anything."
+
+"Are we to tell her!" motioned Nan with her lips to Phillis; and as
+Phillis nodded, "Yes," Nan gently and quietly began unfolding their
+plan.
+
+But, with all her care and all Phillis's promptings, the revelation
+was a great shock to Mrs. Challoner; in her weakened state she seemed
+hardly able to bear it.
+
+Dulce repented bitterly her incautious whisper when she saw her
+sisters' tired faces, and their fruitless attempts to soften the
+effects of such a blow. For a little while, Mrs. Challoner seemed on
+the brink of despair; she would not listen; she abandoned herself to
+lamentations; she became so hysterical at last that Dorothy was
+summoned from the kitchen and taken into confidence.
+
+"Mother, you are breaking our hearts," Nan said, at last. She was
+kneeling at her feet, chafing her hands, and Phillis was fanning her;
+but she pushed them both away from her with weak violence.
+
+"It is I whose heart is breaking! Why must I live to see such things?
+Dorothy, do you know my daughters are going to be dressmakers?--my
+daughters, who are Challoners,--who have been delicately
+nurtured,--who might hold up their heads with any one?"
+
+"Dorothy, hold your tongue!" exclaimed Phillis, peremptorily. "You are
+not to speak; this is for us to decide, and no one else. Mammy, you
+are making Nan look quite pale: she is dreadfully tired, and so am I.
+Why need we decide anything to-night? Every one is upset and excited,
+and when that is the case one can never arrive at any proper
+conclusion. Let us talk about it to-morrow, when we are rested." And,
+though Mrs. Challoner would not allow herself to be comforted, Nan's
+fatigue and paleness were so visible to her maternal eyes that they
+were more eloquent than Phillis's words.
+
+"I must not think only of myself. Yes, yes, I will do as you wish.
+There will be time enough for this sort of talk to-morrow. Dorothy,
+will you help me? The young ladies are tired; they have had a long
+journey. No, my dear, no," as Dulce pressed forward; "I would rather
+have Dorothy." And, as the old servant gave them a warning glance,
+they were obliged to let her have her way.
+
+"Mammy has never been like this before," pouted Dulce, when they were
+left alone. "She drives us away from her as though we had done
+something purposely to vex her."
+
+"It is because she cannot bear the sight of us to-night," returned
+Phillis, solemnly. "It is worse for her than for us; a mother feels
+things for her children more than for herself; it is nature, that is
+what it is," she finished philosophically; "but she will be better
+to-morrow." And after this the miserable little conclave broke up.
+
+Mrs. Challoner passed a sleepless night, and her pillow was sown with
+thorns. To think of the Challoners falling so low as this! To think of
+her pretty Nan, her clever, bright Phillis, her pet Dulce coming to
+this; "oh, the pity of it!" she cried in the dark hours, when vitality
+runs lowest, and thoughts seem to flow involuntarily towards a dark
+centre.
+
+But with the morning came sunshine, and her girl's faces,--a little
+graver than usual, perhaps, but still full of youth and the brightness
+of energy; and the sluggish nightmare of yesterday's grief began to
+fade a little.
+
+"Now, mammy, you are not going to be naughty to-day!" was Dulce's
+morning salutation as she seated herself on the bed.
+
+Mrs. Challoner smiled faintly:
+
+"Was I very naughty last night, Dulce?"
+
+"Oh, as bad as possible. You pushed poor Nan and Phillis away, and
+would not let any one come near you but that cross old Dorothy, and
+you never bade us good-night; but if you promise to be good, I will
+forgive you and make it up," finished Dulce, with those light
+butterfly kisses to which she was addicted.
+
+"Now, Chatterbox, it is my turn," interrupted Phillis; and then she
+began a carefully concocted little speech, very carefully drawn out to
+suit her mother's sensitive peculiarities.
+
+She went over the old ground patiently point by point. Mrs. Challoner
+shuddered at the idea of letting lodgings.
+
+"I knew you would agree with us," returned Phillis, with a convincing
+nod; and then she went on to the next clause.
+
+Mrs. Challoner argued a great deal about the governess scheme. She was
+quite angry with Phillis, and seemed to suffer a great deal of
+self-reproach, when the girl spoke of their defective education and
+lack of accomplishments. Nan had to come to her sister's rescue; but
+the mother was slow to yield the point:
+
+"I don't know what you mean. My girls are not different from other
+girls. What would your poor father say if he were alive? It is cruel
+to say this to me, when I stinted myself to give you every possible
+advantage, and I paid Miss Martin eighty pounds a year," she
+concluded, tearfully, feeling as though she were the victim of a
+fraud.
+
+She was far more easily convinced that going out as companions would
+be impracticable under the circumstances. "Oh, no, that will never
+do!" she cried, when the two little rooms with Dulce were proposed;
+and after this Phillis found her task less difficult. She talked her
+mother over at last to reluctant acquiescence. "I never knew how I
+came to consent," she said, afterwards, "but they were too much for
+me."
+
+"We cannot starve. I suppose I must give in to you," she said, at
+last; "but I shall never hold up my head again." And she really
+believed what she said.
+
+"Mother, you must trust us," replied Phillis, touched by this victory
+she had won. "Do you know what I said to Dulce? Work cannot degrade
+us. Though we are dressmakers, we are still Challoners. Nothing can
+make us lose our dignity and self-respect as gentlewomen."
+
+"Other people will not recognize it," returned her mother, with a
+sigh. "You will lose caste. No one will visit you. Among your equals
+you will be treated as inferiors. It is this that bows me to the earth
+with shame."
+
+"Mother, how can you talk so?" cried Nan, in a clear, indignant voice.
+"What does it matter if people do not visit us? We must have a world
+of our own, and be sufficient for ourselves, if we can only keep
+together. Is not that what you have said to us over and over again?
+Well, we shall be together, we shall have each other. What does the
+outside world matter to us after all?"
+
+"Oh, you are young; you do not know what complications may arise,"
+replied Mrs. Challoner, with the gloomy forethought of middle age.
+She thought she knew the world better than they, but in reality she
+was almost as guileless and ignorant as her daughters. "Until you
+begin, you do not know the difficulties that will beset you," she went
+on.
+
+But notwithstanding this foreboding speech, she was some what
+comforted by Nan's words: "they would be together!" Well, if
+Providence chose to inflict this humiliation and afflictive
+dispensation on her, it could be borne as long as she had her children
+around her.
+
+Nan made one more speech,--a somewhat stern one for her.
+
+"Our trouble will be a furnace to try our friends. We shall know the
+true from the false. Only those who are really worth the name will be
+faithful to us."
+
+Nan was thinking of Dick; but her mother misunderstood her, and grew
+alarmed.
+
+"You will not tell the Paines and the other people about here what you
+intend to do, surely? I could not bear that! no, indeed, I could not
+bear that!"
+
+"Do not be afraid, dear mother," returned Nan, sadly, "we are far too
+great cowards to do such a thing, and, after all, there is no need to
+put ourselves to needless pain. If the Maynes were here we might not
+be able to keep it from them, perhaps, and so I am thankful they are
+away."
+
+Nan said this quite calmly, though her mother fixed her eyes upon her
+in a most tenderly mournful fashion. She had quite forgotten their
+Longmead neighbors, but now, as Nan recalled them to her mind, she
+remembered Mr. Mayne, and her look had become compassionate.
+
+"It will be all over with those poor children," she thought to
+herself: "the father will never allow it,--never; and I cannot wonder
+at him." And then her heart softened to the memory of Dick, whom she
+had never thought good enough for Nan, for she remembered now with a
+sore pang that her pride was laid low in the dust, and that she could
+not hope now that her daughters would make splendid matches: even Dick
+would be above them, though his father had been in trade, and though
+he had no grandfather worth mentioning.
+
+A few days after their return from Hadleigh, there was an other long
+business interview with Mr. Trinder, in which every thing was settled.
+A tenant had already been found for the cottage. A young couple, on
+the eve of their marriage, who had long been looking for a suitable
+house in the neighborhood had closed at once with Mr. Trinder's offer,
+and had taken the lease off their hands. The gentleman was a cousin of
+the Paines and, partly for the convenience of the in-coming tenants,
+and partly because the Challoners wished to move as soon as possible,
+there was only a delay of a few weeks before the actual flitting.
+
+It would be impossible to describe the dismay of the neighborhood when
+the news was circulated.
+
+Immediately after their return from Hadleigh, Nan and Phillis took
+counsel together, and, summoning up their courage, went from one to
+another of their friends and quietly announced their approaching
+departure.
+
+"Mother has had losses, and we are now dreadfully poor, and we are
+going to leave Glen Cottage and go down to a small house we have at
+Hadleigh," said Nan, who by virtue of an additional year of age was
+spokeswoman on this occasion. She had fully rehearsed this little
+speech, which she intended to say at every house in due rotation. "We
+will not disguise the truth; we will let people know that we are poor,
+and then they will not expect impossibilities," she said, as they
+walked down the shady roads towards the Paines' house,--for the Paines
+were their most intimate friends and had a claim to the first
+confidence.
+
+"I think that will be sufficient; no one has any right to know more,"
+she continued, decidedly, fully determined that no amount of coaxing
+and cross-examination should wring from her one unnecessary word.
+
+But she little knew how difficult it would be to keep their own
+counsel. The Paines were not alone: they very seldom were. Adelaide
+Sartoris was there, and the younger Miss Twentyman, and a young widow,
+a Mrs. Forbes, who was a distant connection of Mrs. Paine.
+
+Nan was convinced that they had all been talking about them, for there
+was rather an embarrassed pause as she and Phillis entered the room.
+Carrie looked a little confused as she greeted them.
+
+Nan sat down by Mrs. Paine, who was rather deaf, and in due time made
+her little speech. She was rather pale with the effort, and her voice
+faltered a little, but every word was heard at the other end of the
+room.
+
+"Leave Glen Cottage, my dear? I can't have heard you rightly. I am
+very deaf, to-day,--very. I think I must have caught cold." And Mrs.
+Paine turned a mild face of perplexity on Nan; but, before she could
+reiterate her words, Carrie was on the footstool at her feet, and Miss
+Sartoris, with a grave look of concern on her handsome features, was
+standing beside her:
+
+"Oh, Nan! tell us all about it! Of course we saw something was the
+matter. Dulce was so strange that afternoon; and you have all been
+keeping yourselves invisible for ever so long."
+
+"There is very little to tell," returned Nan, trying to speak
+cheerfully. "Mother has had bad news. Mr. Gardiner is bankrupt, and
+all our invested money is gone. Of course we could not go on living at
+Glen Cottage. There is some talk, Carrie, of your cousin, Mr.
+Ibbetson, coming to look at it: it will be nice for us if he could
+take the lease off our hands, and then we should go down to the
+Friary."
+
+"How I shall hate to see Ralph there!--not but what it will suit him
+and Louisa well enough, I dare say. But never mind him: I want to
+know all about yourselves," continued Carrie, affectionately. "This is
+dreadful, Nan! I can hardly believe it. What are we to do without you?
+and where is the Friary? and what is it like? and what will you do
+with yourselves when you get there?"
+
+"Yes, indeed, that is what we want to know," agreed Miss Sartoris,
+putting her delicately-gloved hand on Nan's shoulder; and then Sophy
+Paine joined the little group, and Mrs. Forbes and Miss Twentyman left
+off talking to Phillis, and began listening; with all their might. Now
+it was that Nan began to foresee difficulties.
+
+"The Friary is very small," she went on, "but it will just hold us and
+Dorothy. Dorothy is coming with us, of course. She is old, but she
+works better than some of the young ones. She is a faithful
+creature----"
+
+But Carrie interrupted her impatiently:
+
+"But, Nan, what will you do with yourselves? Hadleigh is a nice place,
+I believe. Mamma, we must all go down there next summer, and stay
+there,--you shall come with us, Adelaide,--and then we shall be able
+to cheer these poor things up; and Nan, you and Phillis must come and
+stay with us. We don't mean to give you up like this. What does it
+matter about being poor? We are all old friends together. You shall
+give us tea at the Friary; and I dare say there are tennis-grounds at
+Hadleigh, and we will have nice times together."
+
+"Of course we will come and see you," added Miss Sartoris, with a
+friendly pressure of Nan's shoulder; but the poor girl only colored up
+and looked embarrassed, and then it was that Phillis, who was watching
+her opportunity, struck in:
+
+"You are all very good; but, Carrie, I don't believe you understand
+Nan one bit. When people lose their money they have to work. We shall
+all have to put our shoulder to the wheel. We would give you tea, of
+course, but as for paying visits and playing tennis, it is only idle
+girls like yourselves who have time for that sort of thing. It will be
+work and not play, I fear, with us."
+
+"Oh, Phillis!" exclaimed poor Carrie, with tears in her eyes, and Miss
+Sartoris looked horrified, for she had West-Indian blood in her veins
+and was by nature somewhat indolent and pleasure-loving.
+
+"Do you mean you will have to be governesses?" she asked, with a touch
+of dismay in her voice.
+
+"We shall have to work," returned Phillis, vaguely. "When we are
+settled at the Friary we must look round us and do the best we can."
+This was felt to be vague by the whole party; but Phillis's manner was
+so bold and well assured that no one suspected that anything lay
+beyond the margin of her speech. They had not made up their minds,
+perhaps; Sir Francis Challoner would assist them; or there were other
+sources of help: they must move into the new house first, and then see
+what was to be done. It was so plausible, so sensible, that every one
+was deceived.
+
+"Of course you cannot decide in such a hurry: you must have so much to
+do just now," observed Carrie. "You must write and tell us all your
+plans, Phillis, and if there be anything we can do to help you. Mamma,
+we might have Mrs. Challoner here while the cottage is dismantled. Do
+spare her to us, Nan, and we will take such care of her!" And they
+were still discussing this point, and trying to overrule Nan's
+objections,--who knew nothing would induce her mother to leave
+them,--when other visitors were announced, and in the confusion they
+were allowed to make their escape.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+"LADDIE" PUTS IN AN APPEARANCE.
+
+
+"I think we have managed that as well as possible!" exclaimed Phillis,
+when they found themselves outside the gates. "What a good thing
+Adelaide and Mrs. Forbes and Lily were there! Now we need only call at
+those three houses to say good-bye. How hot you look, Nan! and how
+they all hemmed you in! I was obliged to come to your rescue, you were
+so beset; but I think I have put them off the scent."
+
+"Yes, for the present; but think, Phil, if Carrie really carries out
+her intention, and all the Paine tribe and Adelaide come down to
+Hadleigh next summer! No wonder I am hot; the bare idea suffocates
+me."
+
+"Something may turn up before then; it is no good looking so far
+ahead," was the philosophical rejoinder. "Adelaide is rather
+formidable, certainly, and, in spite of her good nature, one does not
+feel at home with her. There is a flavor of money about her, I think;
+she dresses, talks, and lives in such a gilded way one finds her
+heavy; but she may get married before then. Mr. Dalrymple certainly
+seemed to mean it when he was down here last winter, and he will be a
+good match for her. But here we are at Fitzroy Square. I wonder what
+sort of humor her ladyship will be in?"
+
+Lady Fitzroy received them very graciously. She had just been
+indulging in a slight dispute with her husband, and the interruption
+was welcome to both of them; besides, she was always gracious to the
+Challoners.
+
+"You have just come in time, for we were boring each other
+dreadfully," she said, in her pretty languid way, holding out a hand
+to each of them. "Percival, will you ring the bell, please? I cannot
+think why Thorpe does not bring up the tea as usual!"
+
+Lord Fitzroy obeyed his wife's behest, and then he turned with a
+relieved air to his old friend Phillis. She was the clever one; and
+though some people called her quiet, that was because they did not
+draw her out, or she had no sympathy with them. He had always found
+her decidedly amusing and agreeable in the days of his bachelorhood.
+
+He had married the beauty of a season, but the beauty was not without
+her little crotchets and tempers; and though he was both fond and
+proud of his wife, he found Phillis's talk a relief this afternoon.
+
+But Phillis was a little _distraite_ on this occasion: she wanted to
+hear what Nan was saying in a low voice across the room, and Thorpe
+and his subordinate were setting the tea-table, and Lord Fitzroy would
+place himself just before her.
+
+"Now look here, Miss Challoner," he was saying, "I want to tell you
+all about it;" but here Thorpe left the room, and Lady Fitzroy
+interrupted them:
+
+"Oh, Percival, what a pity! Do you hear?--we are going to lose our
+nicest neighbors? Dear little Glen Cottage is to be empty in a week or
+so!"
+
+"Mr. Ralph Ibbetson will decide to take it, I think; and he and Miss
+Blake are to be married on the 16th of next month," returned Nan,
+softly.
+
+"Ibbetson at Glen Cottage! that red-headed fellow! My dear Miss
+Challoner, what sacrilege!--what desecration! What do you mean by
+forsaking us in this fashion? Are you all going to be married? Has Sir
+Francis died and left you a fortune? In the name of all that is
+mysterious, what is the meaning of this?"
+
+"If you will let a person speak, Percival," returned his wife, with
+dignity, "you shall have an answer:" and then she looked up in his
+handsome, good-natured face, and her manner softened insensibly. "Poor
+dear Mrs. Challoner has had losses! Some one has played her false, and
+they are obliged to leave Glen Cottage. But Hadleigh is a nice place,"
+she went on, turning to Nan: "it is very select."
+
+"Where did you say, Evelyn?" inquired her husband, eagerly. "Hadleigh,
+in Sussex? Oh, that is a snug little place; no Toms and Harries go
+down there on a nine hours' trip. I was there myself once, with the
+Shannontons. Perhaps Lady Fitzroy and I may run down one day and have
+a look at you," he continued, with a friendly look at Phillis. It was
+only one of his good-natured speeches, but his wife took umbrage at
+it.
+
+"The sea never agrees with me. I thought you knew that, Percival!"
+rather reproachfully; "but I dare say we shall often see you here,"
+she went on, fearing Nan would think her ungracious. "You and the
+Paines are so intimate that they are sure to have you for weeks
+together; it is so pleasant revisiting an old neighborhood, is it not?
+I know I always feel that with regard to Nuneaton."
+
+"Nuneaton never suits my constitution. I thought you would have
+remembered that, Evelyn," returned her husband, gravely; and then they
+both laughed. Lord Fitzroy was not without a sense of humor, and often
+restored amity by a joking word after this fashion, and then the
+conversation proceeded more smoothly.
+
+Nan and Phillis felt far more at their ease here than they had felt at
+the Paines'. There were no awkward questions asked: Lady Fitzroy was
+far too well bred for that. If she wondered at all how the Challoners
+were to live after they had lost their money, she kept such remarks
+for her husband's private ear.
+
+"Those girls ought to marry well," observed Lord Fitzroy, when he
+found himself alone again with his wife. "Miss Challoner is as pretty
+a creature as one need see, but Miss Phillis has the most in her."
+
+"How are they to meet people if they are going to bury themselves in a
+little sea-side place?" she returned, regretfully. "Shall I put on my
+habit now, Percy? do you think it will be cool enough for our ride?"
+
+"Yes, run along, my pet, and don't keep me too long waiting."
+Nevertheless, Lord Fitzroy did not object when his wife made room for
+him a moment beside her on the couch, while she made it up to him for
+her cross speeches, as she told him.
+
+"There, little mother, it is all done!" exclaimed Phillis, in a tone
+of triumph, as later on in the afternoon they returned to the cottage;
+but in spite of her bravado, both the girls looked terribly jaded, and
+Nan especially seemed out of spirits; but then they had been round the
+Longmead garden, and had gathered some flowers in the conservatory,
+and this alone would have been depressing work to Nan.
+
+From that time they lived in a perpetual whirl, a bustle of activity
+that grew greater; and not less, from day to day. Mrs. Challoner had
+quietly but decidedly refused the Paines' invitation. Nan was right;
+nothing would have induced her to leave her girls in their trouble:
+she made light of their discomfort, forgot her invalid airs, and
+persisted in fatiguing herself to an alarming extent.
+
+"You must let me do things; I should be wretched to sit with my hands
+before me, and not help you," she said with tears in her eyes, and
+when they appealed in desperation to Dorothy, she took her mistress's
+side:
+
+"Working hurts less than worrying. Don't you be fretting about the
+mistress too much, or watching her too closely. It will do her no
+harm, take my word for it." And Dorothy was right.
+
+But there was one piece of work that Nan set her mother to do before
+they left the cottage.
+
+"Mother," she said to her one day when they were alone together. "Mrs.
+Mayne will be wondering why you do not answer her letter. I think you
+had better write, and tell her a little about things. We must not put
+it off any longer, or she will be hurt with us." And Mrs. Challoner
+very reluctantly set about her unpleasant task.
+
+But, after all, it was Nan who furnished the greater part of the
+composition. Mrs. Challoner was rather verbose and descriptive in her
+style. Nan cut down her sentences ruthlessly, and so pruned and
+simplified the whole epistle that her mother failed to trace her own
+handiwork: and at the last she added a postscript in her own pretty
+handwriting.
+
+Mrs. Challoner was rather dissatisfied with the whole thing.
+
+"You have said so little, Nan! Mrs. Mayne will be quite affronted at
+our reticence."
+
+"What is the use of harrowing people's feelings?" was Nan's response.
+
+It was quite true she had dwelt as little as possible on their
+troubles.
+
+The few opening sentences had related solely to their friends'
+affairs.
+
+"You will be sorry to hear," Mrs. Challoner wrote after this, "that I
+have met with some severe losses. I dare say Mr. Mayne will remember
+that my poor husband invested our little income in the business of his
+cousin, Mark Gardiner. We have just heard the unwelcome news that
+Gardiner & Fowler have failed for a large amount. Under these
+circumstances, we think it more prudent to leave Glen Cottage as soon
+as possible, and settle at Hadleigh, where we have a small house
+belonging to us called the Friary. Fortunately for us, Mr. Trinder has
+found us a tenant, who will take the remainder of the lease off our
+hands. Do you remember Mr. Ralph Ibbetson, the Paines' cousin, that
+rather heavy-looking young man, with reddish hair, who was engaged to
+that pretty Miss Blake?--well, he has taken Glen Cottage; and I hope
+you will find them nice neighbors. Tell Dick he must not be too sorry
+to miss his old friends, but of course you will understand this is a
+sad break to us. Settling down in a new place is never very pleasant;
+and as my girls will have to help themselves, and we shall all have to
+learn to do without things, it will be somewhat of a discipline to us;
+but as long as we are together, we all feel, such difficulties can be
+easily borne.
+
+"Tell Mr. Mayne that, if I had foreseen how things were to turn out, I
+would have conquered my indisposition, and not have forfeited my last
+evening at Longmead."
+
+And in the postscript Nan wrote hurriedly,--
+
+"You must not be too sorry for us, dear Mrs. Mayne, for mother is as
+brave as possible, and we are all determined to make the best of
+things.
+
+"Of course it is very sad leaving dear Glen Cottage, where we have
+spent such happy, happy days; but, though the Friary is small, we
+shall make it very comfortable. Tell Dick the garden is a perfect
+wilderness at present, and that there are no roses,--only a splendid
+passion-flower that covers the whole back of the house."
+
+Nan never knew why she wrote this. Was it to remind him vaguely that
+the time of roses was over, and that from this day things would be
+different with them?
+
+Nan was quite satisfied when she had despatched this letter. It told
+just enough, and not too much. It sorely perplexed and troubled Dick;
+and yet neither he nor his father had the least idea how things really
+were with the Challoners.
+
+"Didn't I tell you so, Bessie?" exclaimed Mr. Mayne, almost in a voice
+of triumph, as he struck his hand upon the letter. "Paine was right
+when he spoke of a shaky investment. That comes of women pretending to
+understand business. A pretty mess they seem to have made of it!"
+
+"Mother," said poor Dick, coming up to her when he found himself alone
+with her for a moment, "I don't understand this letter. I cannot read
+between the lines, somehow, and yet there seems something more than
+meets the eye."
+
+"I am sure it is bad enough," returned Mrs. Mayne, who had been
+quietly crying over Nan's postscript. "Think of them leaving Glen
+Cottage, and of these poor dear girls having to make themselves
+useful!"
+
+"It is just that that bothers me so," replied Dick, with a frowning
+brow. "The letter tells us so little; it is so constrained in tone; as
+though they were keeping something from us. Of course they have
+something to live upon, but I am afraid it is very little."
+
+"Very likely they will only have one servant,--just Dorothy and no one
+else; and the girls will have to help in the house," returned his
+mother, thoughtfully. "That will not do them any harm, Dick: it always
+improves girls to make them useful. I dare say the Friary is a very
+small place, and then I am sure, with a little help, Dorothy will do
+very well."
+
+"But, mother," pleaded Dick, who was somewhat comforted by this
+sensible view of the matter, "do write to Nan or Phillis and beg of
+them to give us fuller particulars." And, though Mrs. Mayne promised
+she would do so, and kept her word, Dick was not satisfied, but sat
+down and scrawled a long letter to Mrs. Challoner, so incoherent in
+its expressions of sympathy and regret that it quite mystified her;
+but Nan thought it perfect, and took possession of it, and read it
+every day, until it got quite thin and worn. One sentence especially
+pleased her. "I don't intend ever to cross the threshold of the
+cottage again," wrote Dick: "in fact, Oldfield will be hateful without
+you all. Of course I shall run down to Hadleigh at Christmas and look
+you up, and see for myself what sort of a place the Friary is. Tell
+Nan I will get her lots of roses for her garden so she need not
+trouble about that; and give them my love, and tell them how awfully
+sorry I am about it all."
+
+Poor Dick! the news of his friends' misfortunes took off the edge of
+his enjoyment for a long time. Thanks to Nan's unselfishness, he did
+not in the least realize the true state of affairs; nevertheless, his
+honest heart was heavy at the thought of the empty cottage, and he was
+quite right in saying Oldfield had grown suddenly hateful to him, and,
+though he kept these thoughts to himself as much as possible, Mr.
+Mayne saw that his son was depressed and ill at ease, and sent him
+away to the Swiss Tyrol, with a gay party of young people, hoping a
+few weeks' change would put the Challoners out of his head. Meanwhile
+Nan and her sisters worked busily, and their friends crowded round
+them, helping or hindering, according to their nature.
+
+On the last afternoon there was a regular invasion of the cottage. The
+drawing-room carpet was up, and the room was full of packing-cases.
+Carrie Paine had taken possession of one and her sister Sophy and Lily
+Twentyman had a turned-up box between them. Miss Sartoris and Gussie
+Scobell had wicker chairs. Dorothy had just brought in tea, and had
+placed before Nan a heterogeneous assemblage of kitchen cups and
+saucers, mugs, and odds and ends of crockery, when Lady Fitzroy
+entered in her habit, accompanied by her sister, the Honorable Maud
+Burgoyne, both of whom seemed to enjoy the picnic excessively.
+
+"Do let me have the mug," implored Miss Burgoyne: she was a pretty
+little brunette with a _nez retrousse_. "I have never drunk out of one
+since my nursery days. How cool it is, after the sunny roads! I think
+carpets ought to be abolished in the summer. When I have a house of my
+own, Evelyn, I mean to have Indian matting and nothing else in the
+warm weather."
+
+"I am very fond of Indian matting," returned her sister, sipping her
+tea contentedly. "Fitzroy hoped to have looked in this afternoon, Mrs.
+Challoner, to say good-bye, but there is an assault-at-arms at the
+Albert Hall, and he is taking my young brother Algernon to see it. He
+is quite inconsolable at the thought of losing such pleasant
+neighbors, and sent all sorts of pretty messages," finished Lady
+Fitzroy, graciously.
+
+"Here is Edgar," exclaimed Carrie Paine; "he told us that he meant to
+put in an appearance; but I am afraid the poor boy will find himself
+_de trop_ among so many ladies."
+
+Edgar was the youngest Paine,--a tall Eton boy, who looked as though
+he would soon be too big for jackets, and an especial friend of
+Nan's.
+
+"How good of you to come and say good-bye, Gar!" she said summoning
+him to her side, as the boy looked round him blushing and half
+terrified. "What have you got there under your jacket?"
+
+"It is the puppy I promised you," returned Edgar, eagerly; "don't you
+know?--Nell's puppy? Father said I might have it." And he deposited a
+fat black retriever puppy at Nan's feet. The little beast made a
+clumsy rush at her and then rolled over on its back. Nan took it up
+in high delight, and showed it to her mother.
+
+"Isn't it good of Gar, mother? and when we all wanted a dog so! We
+have never had a pet since poor old Juno died; and this will be such a
+splendid fellow when he grows up. Look at his head and curly black
+paws; and what a dear solemn face he has got!"
+
+"I am glad you like him," replied Edgar, who was now perfectly at his
+ease. "We have christened him 'Laddie:' he is the handsomest puppy of
+the lot, and our man Jake says he is perfectly healthy." And then, as
+Nan cut him some cake, he proceeded to enlighten her on the treatment
+of this valuable animal.
+
+The arrival of "Laddie" made quite a diversion, and, when the
+good-byes were all said, Nan took the little animal in her arms and
+went with Phillis for the last time to gather flowers in the Longmead
+garden, and when the twilight came on the three girls went slowly
+through the village, bidding farewell to their old haunts.
+
+It was all very sad, and nobody slept much that night in the cottage.
+Nan's tears were shed very quietly, but they fell thick and fast.
+
+"Oh, Dick, it is hard--hard!" thought the poor girl, burying her face
+in the pillow; "but I have not let you know the day, so you will not
+be thinking of us. I would not pain you for worlds, Dick, not more
+than I can help." And then she dried her eyes and told herself that
+she must be brave for all their sakes to-morrow; but, for all her good
+resolutions, sleep would not come to her any more than it did to
+Phillis, who lay open-eyed and miserable until morning.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+"I MUST HAVE GRACE."
+
+
+When the Rev. Archibald Drummond was nominated to the living of
+Hadleigh in Sussex, it was at once understood by his family that he
+had achieved a decided success in life.
+
+Hadleigh until very recently had been a perpetual curacy, and the
+perpetual curate in charge had lived in the large, shabby house with
+the green door on the Braidwood Road, as it was called. There had been
+some talk of a new vicarage, but as yet the first brick had not been
+laid, the building-committee had fallen out on the question of the
+site, and nothing had been definitely arranged: there was a good deal
+of talk, too, about the church restoration, but at the present moment
+nothing had been done.
+
+Mr. Drummond had not been disturbed in his mind by the delay of the
+building-committee in the matter of the new vicarage, but on the topic
+of the church restoration he had been heard to say very bitter
+things,--far too bitter, it was thought, to proceed from the lips of
+such a new-comer. It is not always wise to be outspoken, and when Mr.
+Drummond expressed himself a little too frankly on the ugliness of the
+sacred edifice, which until lately had been a chapel-of-ease, he had
+caused a great deal of dissatisfaction in the mind of his hearers; but
+when the young vicar, still strongly imbued with the beauties of
+Oxford architecture, had looked round blankly on the great square pews
+and galleries, and then at the wooden pulpit, and the Ten Commandments
+that adorned the east end, he was not quite so sure in his mind that
+his position was as enviable as that of other men.
+
+Church architecture was his hobby, and, if the truth must be told, he
+was a little "High" in his views; without attaching himself to the
+Ultra-Ritualistic party, he was still strongly impregnated with many
+of their ideas; he preferred Gregorian to Anglican chants, and would
+have had no objection to incense if his diocesan could have been
+brought to appreciate it too.
+
+An ornate service was decidedly to his taste. It was, therefore, a
+severe mortification when he found himself compelled to minister
+Sunday after Sunday in a building that was ugly enough for a
+conventicle, and to listen to the florid voices of a mixed choir,
+instead of the orderly array of men and boys in white surplices to
+which he had been accustomed. If he had been combative by nature,--one
+who loved to gird his armor about him and to plunge into every sort of
+_melee_,--he would have rejoiced after a fashion at the thought of the
+work cut out for him, of bringing order and beauty out of this chaos;
+but he was by nature too impatient. He would have condemned and
+destroyed instead of trying to renovate.
+
+"Why not build a new church at once?" he said, with a certain youthful
+intolerance that made people angry. "Never mind the vicarage; the old
+house will last my time: but a place like this--a rising place--ought
+to have a church worthy of it. It will be money thrown away to restore
+this one," finished the young vicar, looking round him with sorely
+troubled eyes; and it was this outspoken frankness that had lost him
+popularity at first.
+
+But, if the new vicar had secret cause for discontent in the Drummond
+family there was nothing but the sweetness of triumph.
+
+"Archie has never given me a moment's trouble from his birth," his
+proud mother was wont to declare; and it must be owned that the young
+man had done very fairly for himself.
+
+There had been plenty of anxiety in the Drummond household while
+Archibald was enjoying his first Oxford term. Things had come to a
+climax: his father, who was a Leeds manufacturer, had failed most
+utterly, and to a large amount. The firm of Drummond & Drummond, once
+known as a most respectable and reliable firm, had come suddenly, but
+not unexpectedly to the ground; and Archibald Drummond the elder had
+been compelled to accept a managership in the very firm that, by
+competition and underselling, had helped to ruin him.
+
+It was a heavy trial to a man of Mr. Drummond's proud temperament; but
+he went through with it in a tough, dogged way that excited his wife's
+admiration. True, his bread was bitter to him for a long time, and the
+sweetness of life, as he told himself, was over for him; but he had a
+large family to maintain, sons and daughters growing up around him,
+and the youngest was not yet six months old; under such circumstances
+a man may be induced to put his pride in his pocket.
+
+"Your father has grown quite gray, and has begun to stoop. It makes my
+heart quite ache to see him sometimes," Mrs. Drummond wrote to her
+eldest son; "but he never says a word to any of us. He just goes
+through with it day after day."
+
+At that time Archie was her great comfort. He had begun to make his
+own way early in life, understanding from the first that his parents
+could do very little for him. He had worked well at school, and had
+succeeded in obtaining one or two scholarships. When his university
+life commenced, and the household at Leeds became straitened in their
+circumstances, he determined not to encumber them with his presence.
+
+He soon became known in his college as a reading-man and a steady
+worker; he was fortunate, too, in obtaining pupils for the long
+vacation. By and by he became a fellow and tutor of his college, and
+before he was eight-and-twenty the living of Hadleigh was offered to
+him. It was not at all a rich living,--not being worth more than three
+hundred a year,--and some of his Oxford friends would have dissuaded
+him from accepting it; but Archibald Drummond was not of their
+opinion. Oxford did not suit his constitution; he was never well
+there. Sussex air, and especially the sea-side, would give him just
+the tone he required. He liked the big old-fashioned house that would
+be allotted to him. He could take pupils and add to his income in that
+way; at present he had his fellowship. It was only in the event of his
+marriage that his income might not be found sufficient. At the present
+moment he had no matrimonial intentions: there was only one thing on
+which he was determined, and that was, that Grace must live with him
+and keep his house.
+
+Grace was the sister next to him in age. Mattie,--or Matilda, as her
+mother often called her,--was the eldest of the family, and was two
+years older than Archibald. Between him and Grace there were two
+brothers, Fred and Clyde, and beyond Grace a string of girls ending in
+Dottie, who was not yet ten. Archibald used to forget their ages and
+mix them up in the most helpless way; he was never quite sure if
+Isabel were eighteen or twenty, or whether Clara or Susie came next.
+He once forgot Laura altogether, and was only reminded of her
+existence by the shock of surprise at seeing the awkward-looking,
+ungainly girl standing before him, looking shyly up in his face.
+
+Archibald was never quite alive to the blessing of having seven
+sisters, none of them with any pretension to beauty, unless it were
+Grace, though he was obliged to confess on his last visit to Leeds
+that Isabel was certainly passable-looking. He tried to take a proper
+amount of interest in them and be serenely unconscious of their want
+of grace and polish; but the effort was too manifest, and neither
+Clara nor Susie nor Laura regarded their grave elder brother with any
+lively degree of affection. Mrs. Drummond was a somewhat stern and
+exacting mother, but she was never so difficult to please as when her
+eldest son was at home.
+
+"Home is never so comfortable when Archie is in it," Susie would
+grumble to her favorite confidante, Grace. "Every one is obliged to be
+on their best behavior; and yet mother finds fault from morning to
+night. Dottie is crying now because she has been scolded for coming
+down to tea in a dirty pinafore."
+
+"Oh, hush, Susie dear! you ought not to say such things," returned
+Grace, in her quiet voice.
+
+Poor Grace! these visits of Archie were her only pleasures. The
+brother and sister were devoted to each other. In Archie's eyes not
+one of the others was to be compared to her; and in this he was
+perfectly right.
+
+Grace Drummond was a tall, sweet-looking girl of two-and-twenty,--not
+pretty, except in her brother's opinion, but possessing a soft, fair
+comeliness that made her pleasant to look upon. In voice and manner
+she was extremely quiet,--almost grave; and only those who lived with
+her had any idea of the repressed strength and energy of her
+character, and the almost masculine clearness of intellect that lay
+under the soft exterior. One side of her nature was hidden from every
+one but her brother, and to him only revealed by intermittent flashes,
+and that was the passionate absorption of her affection in him. To her
+parents she was dutiful and submissive, but when she grew up the yoke
+of her mother's will was felt to be oppressive. Her father's nature
+was more in sympathy with her own; but even with him she was reticent.
+She was good to all her brothers and sisters, and especially devoted
+to Dottie; but her affection for them was so strongly pervaded by
+anxiety and the overweight of responsibility that its pains
+overbalanced its pleasures. She loved them, and toiled in their
+service from morning to night; but as yet she had not felt herself
+rewarded by any decided success. But in Archie her pride was equal to
+her love; she was critical, and her standard was somewhat high, but he
+satisfied her. What other people recognized as faults, she regarded
+as the merest blemishes. Without being absolutely faultless, which was
+of course impossible in a creature of flesh and blood, he was still as
+near perfection, she thought, as he could be. Perhaps her affection
+for him blinded her somewhat, and cast a sort of loving glamour over
+her eyes; for it must be owned that Archibald was by no means
+extraordinary in either goodness or cleverness. From a boy she had
+watched his career with dazzled eyes, rejoicing in every stroke of
+success that came to him as though it were her own. Her own life was
+dull and laborious, spent in the overcrowded house in Lowder Street,
+but she forgot it in following his. Now and then bright days came to
+her,--few in number, but absolutely golden, when this dearly-loved
+brother came on a brief visit,--when they had snatches of delicious
+talk in the empty school-room at the top of the house, or he took her
+out with him for a long, quiet walk.
+
+Mrs. Drummond always made some dry sarcastic remark when they came in,
+for she was secretly jealous of Archie's affection for Grace. Hers was
+rather a monopolizing nature, and she would willingly have had the
+first share in her son's affections. It somewhat displeased her to see
+him so wrapt up in the one sister to the exclusion of all the others,
+as she told him.
+
+"I think you might have asked Matilda or Isabel to accompany you. The
+poor girls never see anything of you, Archie," she would say
+plaintively to her son. But to Grace she would speak somewhat sharply,
+bidding her fulfil some neglected duty, which another could as well
+have performed, and making her at once understand by her manner that
+she was to blame in leaving Mattie at home.
+
+"Mother," Archibald said to her one day, when she had spoken with
+unusual severity, and the poor girl had retreated from the room,
+feeling as though she had been convicted of selfishness, "we must
+settle the matter about which I spoke to you last night. I have been
+thinking about it ever since. Mattie will not do at all. I must have
+Grace!"
+
+Mrs. Drummond looked up from her mending, and her thin lips settled
+into a hard line that they always took when her mind was made up on a
+disagreeable subject. She had a pinafore belonging to Dottie in her
+hand; there was a jagged rent in it, and she sighed impatiently as she
+put it down; though she was not a woman who shirked any of her
+maternal duties, she had often been heard to say that her work was
+never done, and that her mending-basket was never empty.
+
+"But if I cannot spare Grace," she said, rather shortly, as she
+meditated another lecture to the delinquent Dottie.
+
+"But, mother, you must spare her!" returned her son, eagerly, leaning
+his elbow on the mantelpiece, and watching her rapid manipulations
+with apparent interest. "Look here; I am quite in earnest. I have set
+my heart on having Grace. She is just the one to manage a clergyman's
+household. She would be my right hand in the parish."
+
+"She is our right hand too, Archie; but I suppose we are to cut it
+off, that it may benefit you and your parish."
+
+Mrs. Drummond seldom spoke so sharply to her eldest son; but this
+request of his was grievous to her.
+
+"I think Grace ought to be considered, too, in the matter," he
+returned, somwhat sullenly. "She works harder than any paid governess,
+and gets small thanks for her trouble."
+
+"She does her duty," returned Mrs. Drummond, coldly,--she very seldom
+praised any of her children,--"but not more than Mattie does hers. You
+are prejudiced strongly against your sister, Archie; you are not fair
+to her in any way. Mattie is a capital little housekeeper. She is
+economical, and full of clever contrivances. It is not as though I
+asked you to try Isabel. She is well enough, too, in her way, but a
+little flighty, and rather too pretty, perhaps--" but here a laugh
+from Archie grated on her ear.
+
+"Too pretty!--what an absurd idea! The girl is passable-looking, and I
+will not deny that she has improved lately; but, mother, there is not
+one of the girls that can be called pretty except Grace."
+
+Mrs. Drummond winced at her son's outspoken words. The plainness of
+her daughters was a sore subject.
+
+She had never understood why her girls were so ordinary-looking. She
+had been a handsome girl in her time, and was still a fine-looking
+woman. Her husband, too, had had a fair amount of good looks, and,
+though he stooped, was still admirable in her eyes. The boys, too,
+were thoroughly fine fellows. Fred was decidedly handsome, and so was
+Clyde; and as for her favorite Archie, Mrs. Drummond glanced up at him
+as he stood beside her.
+
+He certainly looked a model young clergyman. His features were good,
+but the lower part of his face was quite hidden by the fair mustache
+and the soft silky beard. He had thoughtful gray eyes, which could
+look as severe as hers sometimes; and, though his shoulders were
+somewhat too sloping, there could be no fault found with his figure.
+He was as nice-looking as possible, she thought, and no mother could
+have been better satisfied. But why, with the exception of Grace and
+Isabel, were her girls so deficient in outward graces? It could not be
+denied that they were very ordinary girls. Laura was overgrown and
+freckled, and had red hair; Susie was sickly-looking, and so
+short-sighted that they feared she would have to take to spectacles;
+and Clara was stolid and heavy-looking, one of those thick-set girls
+that dress never seems to improve. Dottie had a funny little face; but
+one could not judge of her yet. And Mattie,--Mrs. Drummond sighed
+again as she thought of her eldest daughter,--Mattie was thirty; and
+her mother felt she would never marry. It was not that she was so
+absolutely plain,--people who liked her said Mattie had a nice
+face,--but she was so abrupt, so uncouth in her awkwardness, such a
+stranger to the minor morals of life, that it would be a wonder indeed
+if she could find favor in any man's eyes.
+
+"I do think you are too hard on your sisters," returned Mrs. Drummond,
+stung by her son's remark. "Isabel was very much admired at her first
+party last week. Mrs. Cochrane told me so, and so did Miss Blair." She
+could have added that her maternal interest had been strongly stirred
+by the mention of a certain Mr. Ellis Burton, who she had understood
+had paid a great deal of attention that evening to Isabel, and who was
+the eldest son of a wealthy manufacturer in Leeds. But Mrs. Drummond
+had some good old-fashioned notions, and one of these was never to
+speak on such delicate subjects as the matrimonial prospects of her
+daughters: indeed, she often thanked heaven she was not a match-making
+mother,--which was as well, under the circumstances.
+
+"Well, well, we are not talking about Isabel," returned her son,
+impatiently. "The question is about Grace, mother. I really do wish
+very much that you and my father would stretch a point for me here. I
+want her more than I can say."
+
+"But, Archie, you must be reasonable. Just think a moment. Your father
+cannot afford to send the girls to school, or to pay for a good
+finishing governess. We have given Grace every advantage; and just as
+she is making herself really useful to me in the school-room, you want
+to deprive me of her services."
+
+"You know I offered to pay for Clara's schooling," returned her son,
+reproachfully. "She is more than sixteen, is she not! Surely Mattie
+could teach the others?"
+
+But Mrs. Drummond's clear, concise voice interrupted him:
+
+"Archie, how can you talk such nonsense? You know poor Mattie was
+never good at book-learning. She would hardly do for Dottie. Ask
+Grace, if you doubt my word."
+
+"Of course I do not doubt it, mother," in rather an aggravated voice,
+for he felt he was having the worst of the argument.
+
+"Then why do you not believe me when I tell you the thing you ask is
+impossible?" replied his mother more calmly. "I am sorry for you if
+you are disappointed, Archie; but you undervalue Mattie,--you do
+indeed. She will make you a nice little housekeeper, and, though she
+is not clever, she is so amiable that nothing ever puts her out; and
+visiting the poor and sick-nursing are more in her line than in
+Grace's. Mrs. Blair finds her invaluable. She wanted her for one of
+her district visitors, and I said she had too much to do at home."
+
+Archie shrugged his shoulders. Mrs. Blair was the wife of the vicar of
+All Saints', where the Drummonds attended, and from a boy she had been
+his pet aversion. She was a bustling, managing woman, and of course
+Mattie was just to her taste. He did not see much use in continuing
+the conversation; with all his affection for his mother,--and she was
+better loved by her sons than by her daughters,--he knew her to be as
+immovable as a rock when she had once made up her mind. He thought at
+first of appealing to his father on Grace's behalf, but abandoned this
+notion after a few minutes' reflection. His father was decided and
+firm in all matters relating to business, but for many years past he
+had abandoned the domestic reins to his wife's capable hands. Perhaps
+he had proved her worth and prudence; perhaps he thought the
+management of seven daughters too much for any man. Anyhow, he
+interfered less and less as the years went on; and if at any time he
+differed from his wife, she could always talk him over, as her son
+well knew.
+
+When the subject had been first mooted in the household, he had said a
+word or two to his father, and had found him very reluctant to
+entertain the idea of parting with Grace. She was his favorite
+daughter, and he thought how he should miss her when he came home
+weary and jaded at night.
+
+"I don't think it will do at all," he had said, in an undecided
+dissatisfied tone. "Won't one of the other girls serve your turn?
+There's Mattie, or that little monkey Isabel, she is as pert and
+lively as possible. But Grace; why, she is every one's right hand.
+What would the mother or the young ones do without her?"
+
+No; it was no use appealing to his father, Archie thought, and might
+only make mischief in the house. He and Grace must make up their mind
+to a few more years' separation. He turned away after his mother's
+last speech, and finally left the room without saying another word.
+There was a cloud on his face, and Mrs. Drummond saw that he was much
+displeased; but, though she sighed again as she took up a pair of
+Clyde's socks and inspected them carefully, there was no change in her
+resolution that Mattie, and not Grace, should go to the vicarage for
+the year's visit that was all Archie had asked.
+
+There are mothers and mothers in this world,--some who are capable of
+sacrificing their children to Moloch, who will barter their own flesh
+and blood in return for some barren heritage or other. There are those
+who will exact from those dependent on them heavy tithes of daily
+patience and uncomplaining drudgery; while others, who are "mothers
+indeed" give all, asking for nothing in return.
+
+Mrs. Drummond was a good woman. She had many virtues and few faults.
+She was lady-like, industrious and self-denying in her own personal
+comforts, an exemplary wife, and a tolerant mistress; but she was
+better understood by her sons than by her daughters.
+
+Her maternal instincts were very strong, and no mother had more
+delighted in her nursery than she had in hers. As long as there was a
+baby in the house the tenderness of her love was apparent enough. She
+wore herself out tending her infants, and no one ever heard her say a
+harsh word in her nursery.
+
+But as her children grew up, there was much clashing of wills in the
+household. Her sons did not fear her in the least; but with her
+daughters it was otherwise. They felt the mother's strong will
+repressive; it threatened to dwarf their individuality and cramp that
+free growth that is so necessary to young things.
+
+Dottie, who by virtue of being the last baby had had more than her
+fair amount of petting, was only just beginning to learn her lesson of
+unquestioning obedience; and, as she was somewhat spoiled, her lesson
+was hard one. But Laura and Susie and Clara had not yet found out that
+their mother loved them and wished to be their friend; they were timid
+and reserved with her, and took all their troubles to Grace. Even
+Mattie, who was her first-born, and who was old enough to be her
+mother's companion, quailed and blushed like a child under the dry
+caustic speeches at which Clyde and Fred only laughed.
+
+"You don't understand the mother. Her bark is worse than her bite,"
+Clyde would say to his sister sometimes. "She is an awfully clever
+woman, and it riles her to see herself surrounded by such a set of
+ninnies. Now, don't sulk, Belle. You know Mattie's a duffer compared
+to Grace; aren't you, Matt?"
+
+At which truism poor Mattie would hang her head.
+
+"Yes, Clyde; I know I am dreadfully stupid sometimes, and that makes
+mother angry."
+
+Mrs. Drummond often complained bitterly of her daughters' want of
+confidence in her, but she never blamed herself for the barrier that
+seemed between them. She was forever asserting maternal authority,
+when such questions might have been safely laid to rest between her
+and her grown-up daughters. Mrs. Challoner's oneness of sympathy with
+her girls, her lax discipline, her perfect equality, would have
+shocked a woman of Mrs. Drummond's calibre. She would not have
+tolerated or understood it for a moment.
+
+"My girls must do as I wish," was a very ordinary speech in her mouth.
+"I always do as my girls wish," Mrs. Challoner would have said. And,
+indeed, the two mothers were utterly dissimilar; but it may be doubted
+whether the Challoner household were not far happier than the family
+in Lowder Street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+"YOU CAN DARE TO TELL ME THESE THINGS."
+
+
+Archibald Drummond had left his mother's presence with a cloud on his
+brow. He had plenty of filial affection for her, but it was not the
+first time that he had found her too much for him. She had often
+angered him before by her treatment of Grace, but he had told himself
+that she was his mother, that a man could have but one, and so he had
+brought himself to forgive her. But this time she had set herself
+against the cherished plan of years. He had always looked forward to
+the time when he could have Grace to live with him; they had made all
+sorts of schemes together, and all their talk had concentrated itself
+towards this point; the disappointment would place a sort of blankness
+before them; they would be working separately, far away from each
+other, and the distance would not be bridged for years.
+
+He stood for a moment in the dark, narrow hall, thinking intently over
+all this, and then he went slowly upstairs. He knew where he should
+find Grace. His mother had paid an unwonted visit to the school-room
+during their walk, and on their return had expressed herself with some
+degree of sharpness on the disorder she had found there. Grace would
+be busily engaged in putting everything to rights. It was Clara's
+business, but she had gone out, and had, as usual, forgotten all about
+it. Grace had taken the blame upon herself, of course: she was always
+shielding her younger sisters.
+
+Everything was done when he entered the room, and Grace was sitting by
+the window, with her hands folded in her lap, indulging in a few
+minutes' rare idleness. She looked up eagerly as her brother made his
+appearance.
+
+The school-room was a large, bare-looking room at the top of the
+house, with two narrow windows looking out over a lively prospect of
+roofs and chimney-pots. Mrs. Drummond had done her utmost to give it
+an air of comfort, but it was, on the whole, a dull, uncomfortable
+apartment, in spite of the faded Turkey carpet, and the curtains that
+had once been so handsome, but had now merged into unwholesome neutral
+tints.
+
+Laura, who was the wit of the family, had nicknamed it the Hospital,
+for it seemed to be a receptacle for all the maimed and rickety chairs
+of the household, footstools in a dilapidated condition, and odd
+pieces of lumber that had no other place. Archibald regarded it with a
+troubled gaze; somehow, its dinginess had never before so impressed
+him; and then as he looked at his sister the frown deepened on his
+face.
+
+"Well, Archie?"
+
+"Oh, Grace, it is no use! I have talked myself hoarse, but the mother
+is dead against it: one might as well try to move a rock. We shall
+have to make up our minds to bear our disappointment as well as we
+can."
+
+"I knew it was hopeless from the first," returned Grace, slowly; but,
+as she spoke, a sort of dimness and paleness crept over her face,
+belying her words.
+
+She was young, and in youth hope never dies. Beyond the gray daily
+horizon there is always a possible gleam, a new to-morrow; youth
+abounds in infinite surprises, in probabilities which are as large as
+they are vague. Grace told herself that she never hoped much from
+Archie's mission; yet when he came to her with his ill success
+plainly stamped upon his countenance, the dying out of her dream was
+bitter to her.
+
+"I knew it was hopeless from the first," had been her answer, and then
+breath for further words failed her, and she sat motionless, with her
+hands clasped tightly together, while Archie placed himself on the
+window-seat beside her and looked out ruefully at the opposite
+chimneys.
+
+Well, it was all over, this dearly-cherished scheme of theirs; she
+must go on now with the dull routine of daily duties, she must stoop
+her neck afresh to the yoke she had long found so galling; this
+school-room must be her world, she must not hope any longer for wider
+vistas, for more expansive horizons, for tasks that should be more
+congenial to her, for all that was now made impossible.
+
+Mattie, not she, must go and keep Archie's house, and here for a
+moment she closed her eyes, the pain was so bitter; she thought of the
+old vicarage, of the garden where she and Archie were to have worked,
+of the shabby old study where he meant to write his sermons, while she
+was to sit beside him with her book or needlework, of the evenings
+when he had promised to read to her, of the walks they were to have
+taken together, of all the dear delightful plans they had made.
+
+And now her mother had said them nay; it was Mattie who was to be his
+housekeeper, who would sit opposite to him and pour out his coffee,
+who would mend his socks and do all the thousand-and-one things that a
+woman delights in doing for the mankind dependent on her for comfort.
+
+Mattie would visit his poor people, and teach in the schools,
+entertain his friends, and listen to his voice every Sunday; here
+tears slowly gathered under the closed eyelids. Yes, Mattie would do
+all that, but she would not be his chosen friend and companion; there
+would be no long charming talks for her in the study or the sunny
+garden; he would be as lonely, poor fellow, in his way as she would be
+in hers, and for this her mother was to blame.
+
+"Well, Gracie, haven't you a word to say?" asked her brother, at last,
+surprised at her long silence.
+
+"No, Archie; it does not bear talking about," she returned, so
+passionately that he turned round to look at her. "I must not even
+think of it. I must try and shut it all out of my mind, or I shall be
+no good to any one. But it is hard--hard!" with a quiver of her lip.
+
+"I call it a shame for my father and mother to sacrifice you in this
+way!" he burst out, moved to bitter indignation at the sight of her
+trouble. "I shall tell my father what I think about it pretty
+plainly!"
+
+But this speech recalled Grace to her senses.
+
+"Oh, no, dear! you must do no such thing: promise me you will not. It
+would be no good at all; and it would only make mother so angry. You
+know he always thinks as she does about things, so it would be no
+use. I suppose"--with an impatient sigh--"that I ought to feel myself
+complimented at knowing I cannot be spared. Some girls would be proud
+to feel themselves their mother's right hand; but to me it does not
+seem much of a privilege."
+
+"Don't talk in that way, Grace: it makes me miserable to hear you. I
+am more sorry for you than I am for myself, and yet I am sorry for
+myself too. If it were not that my mother would be too deeply
+offended, I would refuse to have Mattie at all. We never have got on
+well together. She is a good little thing in her way, but her
+awkwardness and left-handed ways will worry me incessantly. And then
+we have not an idea in common----" but here Grace generously
+interposed:
+
+"Poor old fellow! as though I did not know all that; but you must not
+vent it on poor Mattie. She is not to blame for our disappointment.
+She would gladly give it up to me if she could. I know she will do her
+utmost to please you, Archie, and she is so good and amiable that you
+must overlook her little failings and make the best of her."
+
+"It will be rather difficult work, I am afraid," returned her brother,
+grimly. "I shall always be drawing invidious comparisons between you
+both, and thinking what you would do in her place."
+
+"All the same you must try and be good to her for my sake, for I am
+very fond of Mattie," she returned, gently; but he could not help
+feeling gratified at the assurance that he would miss her. And then
+she put her hand on his coat-sleeve, and stroked it, a favorite caress
+with her. "It does not bear talking about: does it, Archie? It only
+makes it feel worse. I think it must be meant as a discipline for me,
+because I am so wicked, and that it would not do at all for me to be
+too happy." And here she pressed his arm, and looked up in his face,
+with an attempt at a smile.
+
+"No, you are right: talking only makes it worse," he returned,
+hurriedly; and then he stooped--for he was a tall man--and kissed her
+on the forehead just between her eyes, and then walked to the door,
+whistling a light air.
+
+Grace did not think him at all abrupt in thus breaking off the
+conversation. She had caught his meaning in a moment, and knew the
+whole business was so painful to him that he did not care to dwell on
+it. When the tea-bell rang, she prepared herself at once to accompany
+him downstairs.
+
+It was Archibald's last evening at home, and all the family were
+gathered round the long tea-table. Since Mr. Drummond's misfortunes,
+late dinners had been relinquished, and more homely habits prevailed
+in the household. Mrs. Drummond had, indeed, apologized to her son
+more than once for the simplicity of their mode of life.
+
+"You are accustomed to a late dinner, Archie. I wish I could have
+managed it for you; but your father objects to any alteration being
+made in our usual habits."
+
+"He is quite right; and I should have been much distressed if you had
+thought such alteration necessary," returned her son, very much
+surprised at this reference to his father. For Mrs. Drummond rarely
+consulted her husband on such matters. In this case, however, she had
+done so, and Mr. Drummond had been unusually testy--indeed,
+affronted--at such a question being put to him.
+
+"I don't know what you mean, Isabella," he had replied; "but I suppose
+what is good enough for me is good enough for Archie." And then Mrs.
+Drummond knew she had made a mistake, for her husband had felt
+bitterly the loss of his late dinner. So Archie tried to fall in with
+the habits of his family, and to enjoy the large plum or seed-cake
+that invariably garnished the tea-table; and, though he ate but
+sparingly of the supper, which always gave him indigestion, Grace was
+his only confidante in the matter. Mr. Drummond, indeed, looked at his
+son rather sharply once or twice, as though he suspected him of
+fastidiousness. "I cannot compliment you on your appetite," he would
+say, as he helped himself to cold meat; "but perhaps our home fare is
+not so tempting as Oxford living?"
+
+"I always say your meat is unusually good," returned Archibald,
+amicably. "If there be any fault, it is in my appetite; but that
+Hadleigh air will soon set right." But, though he answered his father
+after this tolerant fashion, he always added, in a mental aside, that
+nine-o'clock suppers were certainly barbarous institutions, and
+peculiarly deleterious to the constitution of an Oxford fellow.
+
+Mrs. Drummond looked at them both somewhat keenly as they entered. In
+spite of her resolution, she was secretly uncomfortable at the thought
+that Archie was displeased with her: her daughter's vexation was a
+burden that could be more easily borne; but her maternal heart yearned
+for some token that her boy was not estranged from her. But no such
+consolation was to be vouchsafed to her. She had kept his usual place
+vacant beside her; Archie showed no intention of taking it. He placed
+himself by his father, and began talking to him of a change of
+ministry that was impending, and which would overthrow the
+Conservative party. Mrs. Drummond, who was one of those women who can
+never be made to take any interest in politics, was reduced to the
+necessity of talking to Mattie in an undertone, for the other boys
+never put in an appearance at this meal; but as she talked she took
+stock of Grace's pale, abstracted looks as she sat with her plate
+before her, not pretending to eat, and taking no notice of Susie and
+Laura, who chatted busily across her.
+
+It was not a festive meal; on the contrary, there was an unusual air
+of restraint over the whole party. The younger members felt
+instinctively that there was something amiss. Archie looked decidedly
+glum; and there was an expression on the mother's face that they were
+not slow to interpret. No one could hear what it was she was saying to
+Mattie that made her look so red and nervous all at once; but
+presently she addressed herself abruptly to her husband:
+
+"It is all settled, father. I have arranged with Archie that Matilda
+should go down to Hadleigh next month."
+
+Archie stroked his beard, but did not look up or make any remark,
+though poor Mattie looked at him beseechingly across the table, as
+though imploring a word. His mother would carry her point; but he
+would not pretend for a moment that he was otherwise than displeased,
+or that Mattie would be welcome.
+
+His silence attracted Mr. Drummond's attention.
+
+"Oh, what, you have settled it, you say? I hope you are satisfied,
+Archie, and properly grateful to your mother for sparing Mattie. She
+is to go for a year. Well, it will be a grand change for her. I should
+not be surprised if you were to pick up a husband, Miss Mattie;" for
+Mr. Drummond was a man who, in spite of his cares, was not without his
+joke; but, as usual, it was instantly frowned down by his wife:
+
+"I wonder at you, father, talking such nonsense before the children.
+Why are you giggling, Laura? It is very unseemly and ill-behaved. I
+hope no daughter of mine has such unmaidenly notions. Mattie is going
+to Hadleigh to be a comfort to her brother, and to keep his house as a
+clergyman's house ought to be kept."
+
+"And you are satisfied, Archie?" asked Mr. Drummond, not quite pleased
+at his wife's reprimand, and struck anew by his son's silence.
+
+"I consider these questions somewhat unnecessary. You know my wishes,
+sir, on the subject, and my mother also," was the somewhat
+uncompromising remark; "but it appears that they are not to be met in
+this instance. I hope Mattie will be comfortable and not miss her
+sisters;" but he did not look at the poor girl, and the tears came
+into her eyes.
+
+"Oh, Archie, I am so sorry! I never meant-----" she stammered; but her
+mother interrupted her:
+
+"There is no occasion for you to be sorry about anything; you had far
+better be silent, Mattie. But you have no tact. Father, if you have
+finished your tea, I suppose you and Archie are going out." And then
+Archie rose from the table, and followed his father out of the room.
+
+It was Isabel's business to put Dottie to bed. The other girls had to
+prepare their lessons for the next day, and went up to the
+school-room. Mattie made some excuse, and went with them, and Mrs.
+Drummond and Grace were left alone.
+
+Grace had some delicate work to finish, and she placed herself by the
+lamp. Her mother had returned to her mending-basket; but as the door
+closed upon Mattie, she cleared her throat, and looked at her
+daughter.
+
+"Grace, I must say I am surprised at you!"
+
+"Why, mother?" But Grace did not look up from the task she was running
+with such fine even stitches.
+
+"I am more than surprised!" continued Mrs. Drummond, severely. "I am
+disappointed to see in what a bad spirit you have received my
+decision. I did not think a daughter of mine would have been so blind
+to her sense of duty!"
+
+"I have said nothing to make you think that."
+
+"No, you have said nothing, but looks can be eloquent sometimes. I am
+not speaking of Archie, though I can see he is put out too, for he is
+a man, and men are not always reasonable; but that you should place
+yourself in such silent opposition to my wishes, it is that that
+shocks me."
+
+There was an ominous sparkle in Grace's gray eyes, and then she
+deliberately put down her work on the table. She had hoped that her
+mother would have been contented with her victory, and not have spoken
+to her on the subject. But if she were so attacked, she would at least
+defend herself.
+
+"You have no right to speak to me in this way, mother!"
+
+"No right, Grace?" Mrs. Drummond could hardly believe her ears. Never
+once had a daughter of hers questioned her right in anything.
+
+"No; for I have said nothing to bring all this upon me! I have been
+perfectly quiet, and have tried to bear the bitterness of my
+disappointment as well as I could. No one is answerable for their
+looks, and I, at least, will not plead guilty on that score."
+
+"Grace, you are answering me very improperly."
+
+"I cannot say that I think so, mother. I would have been silent, if
+you had permitted such silence; but when you drive me to speech, I
+must say what I feel to be the truth,--that I have not been well
+treated in this matter."
+
+"Grace!" And Mrs. Drummond paused in awful silence. Never before had a
+recusant daughter braved her to her face.
+
+"I have not been well treated," continued Grace, firmly, "in a thing
+that concerns me more than any one else. I have not even been
+consulted. You have arranged it all, mother, without reference to me
+or my feelings. Perhaps I ought to be grateful for being spared so
+painful a decision; but I think such a decision should have been
+permitted to me."
+
+"You can dare to tell me such things to my very face!"
+
+"Why should I not tell them?" returned Grace, meeting her mother's
+angry glance unflinchingly. "It seems to me that one should speak the
+truth to one's mother. You have treated me like a child; and I have a
+right to feel sore and indignant. Why did you not put the whole thing
+before me, and tell me that you and my father did not see how you
+could spare me? Do you really believe that I should have been so
+wanting to my sense of duty as to follow my own pleasure?"
+
+"Grace, I insist upon your silence! I will not discuss the matter with
+you."
+
+"If you insist upon silence, you must be obeyed, mother: but it is you
+who have raised the question between us. But when you attack me
+unjustly, I must defend myself."
+
+"You are forgetting yourself strangely. Your words are most
+disrespectful and unbecoming in a daughter. You tell me to my face
+that I am unjust--I, your mother--because I have been compelled to
+thwart your wishes."
+
+"No, no--not because of that!" returned Grace, in a voice of
+passionate pain; "why will you misunderstand me so?--but because you
+have no faith in me. You treat me like a child. You dispute my
+privilege to decide in a matter that concerns my own happiness. You
+bid me work for you, and you give me no wage--not a word of praise;
+and because I remonstrate for once in my life, you insist on my
+silence."
+
+"It seems that I am not to be obeyed."
+
+"Oh, yes; you will be obeyed, mother. After to-night I will not open
+my lips to offend you again. If I have said more than I ought to have
+said as a daughter, I will ask your pardon now; but I cannot take back
+one of my words. They are true,--true!"
+
+"I must say your apology is tardy, Grace."
+
+"Nevertheless, it is an apology; for, though you have hurt me, I must
+not forget you are my mother. I know my life will be harder after
+this, because of what I have said; and yet I would not take back one
+of my words!"
+
+"I am more displeased with you than I can say," returned her mother,
+taking up her neglected work; and her mouth looked stern and hard.
+
+Never had her aspect been so forbidding, and yet never had her
+daughter feared her less.
+
+"Then, if you are displeased with me, I will go away," replied Grace,
+moving from her seat with gentle dignity. "I wish you had not
+compelled me to speak, mother, and then I should not have offended
+you: but as it is there is no help for it." And then she gathered up
+her work and walked slowly out of the room.
+
+Mrs. Drummond sat moodily in the empty room that had somehow never
+seemed so empty before. Her attitude was as rigid and uncompromising
+as usual; but there was a perplexed frown on her brow. For the first
+time in her life one of her girls had dared to assert her own will and
+to speak the truth to her; and she was utterly nonplussed. It was not
+too much to say that she had received a blow. Her justice and sense of
+fairness had been questioned,--her very maternal authority
+impugned,--and that by one of her own children! Mattie, who was eight
+years older, would not have ventured to cross her mother's will.
+Grace had so dared; and she was bitterly angry with her. And yet she
+had never so admired her before.
+
+How honestly and bravely she had battled for her rights! her gray eyes
+had shone with fire, her pale cheeks had glowed with the passion of
+her words: for once in her life the girl had looked superbly
+handsome.
+
+"You have no faith in me; you treat me like a child." Well, she was
+right; it was no child, it was a proud woman who was flinging those
+hard words at her. For the first time Mrs. Drummond recognized the
+possibility of a will as strong as her own. In spite of all her
+authority, Grace had been a match for her mother: Mrs. Drummond knew
+this, and it added fuel to her bitterness.
+
+"I know my life will be harder for what I have said." Ah, Grace was
+right there; it would be long before her mother would forgive her for
+all those words, true as they were; and yet in her heart she had never
+so feared and admired her daughter. Grace went up to her own room,
+where Dottie was asleep in a little bed very near her sister's: it was
+dark and somewhat cold, but the atmosphere was less frigid than the
+parlor downstairs. Grace's frame was trembling with the force of her
+emotion; her face was burning, and her hands cold. It was restful and
+soothing to put down her aching head on the hard window-ledge and
+close her eyes and think out the pain! It seemed hours before Isabel
+came to summon her to supper, but she made an excuse that she was not
+hungry, and refused to go downstairs.
+
+"But you ate nothing at tea, and your head is aching!" persisted
+Isabel, who was a bright, good-natured girl, and, in spite of Archie's
+strictures, decidedly pretty. "Do let me bring you something. Mother
+will not know."
+
+But Grace refused: she could not eat, and the sight of food would
+distress her.
+
+"Why not go to bed at once, then?" suggested Isabel,--which was
+certainly sensible counsel. But Grace demurred to this; she knew
+Archie would be up presently to say good-night to her: so, when Isabel
+had gone, she lighted the candle, shading it carefully from Dottie's
+eyes, and then she bathed her hot face, and smoothed her hair, and
+took up her work again.
+
+Archie found her quite calm and busy, but he was not so easily
+deceived.
+
+"Now, Gracie, you have got one of your headaches: it is the
+disappointment and the bother, and my going away to-morrow. Poor
+little Gracie!"
+
+"Oh, Archie, I feel as though I shall never miss you so much!"
+exclaimed the poor girl, throwing down her work and clinging to him.
+"When shall I see your dear face again?--not until Christmas?"
+
+"And not then, I expect. I shall most likely run down some time in
+January, and then I shall try hard to take you back with me, just for
+a visit. Mattie will be dull, and wanting to see some of you, and I
+will not have one of the others until you have been."
+
+"I don't believe mother will spare me even for that," returned Grace,
+with a sudden conviction that her mother's memory was retentive, and
+that she would be punished in that way for her sins of this evening;
+"but promise me, Archie, that you will come, if it be only for a few
+days."
+
+"Oh, I will promise you that. I cannot last longer without seeing you,
+Grace!" And he stroked her soft hair as she still clung to him.
+
+The next day Archibald bade his family good-bye: his manner had not
+changed toward his mother, and Mrs. Drummond thought his kiss
+decidedly cold.
+
+"You will be good to Mattie, and try to make the poor girl happy; you
+will do at least as much as this," she said, detaining him as he was
+turning from her to see Grace.
+
+"Oh, yes, I will be good to her," he returned, indifferently, "but I
+cannot promise that she will not find her life dull." And then he took
+Grace in his arms, and whispered to her to be patient, and that all
+would be well one day; and Mrs. Drummond, though she did not hear the
+whisper, saw the embrace and the long lingering look between the
+brother and sister, and pressed her thin lips together and went back
+to her parlor and mending-basket, feeling herself an unhappy mother,
+whose love was not requited by her children, and disposed to be harder
+than ever towards Grace, who had inflicted this pain on her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+A VAN IN THE BRAIDWOOD ROAD.
+
+
+One bright July morning, Mattie Drummond walked rapidly up the
+Braidwood Road, and, unlatching the green door in the wall, let
+herself into the large square hall of the vicarage. This morning it
+looked invitingly cool, with its summer matting and big wicker-work
+chairs; but Mattie was in too great haste to linger; she only stopped
+to disencumber herself of the various parcels with which she was
+ladened, and then she knocked at the door of her brother's study, and,
+without waiting for the reluctant "Come in" that always answered her
+hasty rap, burst in upon him.
+
+It was now three months since Mattie had entered upon her new duties,
+and it must be confessed that Archie's housekeeper had rather a hard
+time of it. As far as actual management went, Mattie fully justified
+her mother's eulogiums in her household arrangements: she was orderly
+and methodical,--far more so than Grace would have been in her place;
+the meals were always punctual and well served, the domestic machinery
+worked well and smoothly. Archie never had to complain of a missing
+button or a frayed wrist-band. Nevertheless, Mattie's presence at the
+vicarage was felt by her brother as a sore burden. There was nothing
+in common between them, nothing that he cared to discuss with her, or
+on which he wished to know her opinion; he was naturally a frank,
+outspoken man, one that demanded sympathy from those belonging to him;
+but with Mattie he was reticent, and as far as possible restrained in
+speech.
+
+One reason for this might be that Mattie, with all her virtues,--and
+she was really a most estimable little person,--was sadly deficient in
+tact. She never knew when she was treading on other people's pet
+prejudices. She could not be made to understand that her presence was
+not always wanted, and that it was as well to keep silence sometimes.
+
+She would intrude her advice when it was not needed, in her
+good-natured way; she had always interfered with everything and
+everybody. "Meddlesome Mattie" they had called her at home.
+
+She was so wonderfully elastic, too, in her temperament, that nothing
+long depressed her. She took all her brother's snubbings in excellent
+part: if he scolded her at dinner-time, and made the ready tears come
+to her eyes,--for it was not the least of Mattie's sins that she cried
+easily and on every possible occasion,--she had forgotten it by
+tea-time, and would chatter to him as happily as ever.
+
+She was just one of those persevering people who seem bound to be
+snubbed; one cannot help it. It was as natural to scold Mattie as it
+was to praise other people; and yet it was impossible not to like the
+little woman, though she had no fine feelings, as Archie said, and was
+not thin-skinned. Grace always spoke a good word for her; she was very
+kind to Mattie in her way,--though it must be owned that she showed
+her small respect as an elder sister. None of her brothers and sisters
+respected Mattie in the least; they laughed at her, and took liberties
+with her, presuming largely on her good nature. "It is only Mattie;
+nobody cares what she thinks," as Clyde would often say. "Matt the
+Muddler," as Frederick named her.
+
+"I wonder what Mattie would say if any one ever fell in love with
+her?" Grace once observed in fun to Archie. "Do you know, I think she
+would be all her life, thanking her husband for the unexpected honor
+he had done her, and trying to prove to him that he had not made such
+a great mistake, after all."
+
+"Mattie's husband! He must be an odd sort of person, I should think."
+And then Archie laughed, in not the politest manner. Certainly Mattie
+was not appreciated by her family. She was not looking her best this
+morning when she went into her brother's study. She wore the
+offending plaid dress,--a particular large black-and-white check that
+he thought especially ugly. Her hat-trimmings were frayed, and the
+straw itself was burnt brown by the sun, and her hair was ill arranged
+and rough, for she never wasted much time on her own person, and, to
+crown the whole, she looked flushed and heated.
+
+Archie, who was sitting at his writing-table in severely-cut
+ecclesiastical garments, looking as trim and well-appointed a young
+clergyman as one might wish to see, might be forgiven for the tone of
+ill-suppressed irritation with which he said,--
+
+"Oh, Mattie! what a figure you look! I am positively ashamed that any
+one should see you. That hat is only fit to frighten the birds."
+
+"Oh, it will do very well for the mornings," returned Mattie,
+perfectly undisturbed at these compliments. "Nobody looks at me: so
+what does it matter?" But this remark, which she made in all
+simplicity, only irritated him more.
+
+"If you have no proper pride, you might at least consider my feelings.
+Do you think a man in my position likes his sister to go about like an
+old beggar-woman? You are enough to try any one's patience, Mattie;
+you are, indeed!"
+
+"Oh, never mind me and my things," returned Mattie coaxingly; "and
+don't go on writing just yet," for Archie had taken up his pen again
+with a great show of being busy. "I want to tell you something that I
+know will interest you. There are some new people come to the
+Friary."
+
+"What on earth do you mean?--what Friary? I am sure I never heard of
+such a place."
+
+"Dear me, Archie, how cross you are this morning!" observed Mattie, in
+a cheerful voice, as she fidgeted the papers on the table. "Why, the
+Friary is that shabby little cottage just above us,--not a stone's
+throw from this house."
+
+"Indeed? Well, I cannot say I am much interested in the movements of
+my neighbors. I am not a gossip like you, Mattie!"--another fling at
+poor Mattie. "I wish you would leave those papers alone. You know I
+never allow my things to be tidied, as you call it, and I am really
+very busy just now. I am in the middle of accounts, and I have to
+write to Grace and----"
+
+"Well, I thought you would like to know." And Mattie looked rather
+crestfallen and disappointed. "You talked so much about those young
+ladies some weeks ago, and seemed quite sorry not to see them again;
+and now----" but here Archie's indifference vanished, and he looked up
+eagerly.
+
+"What young ladies? Not those in Milner's Library, who asked about the
+dressmaker?"
+
+"The very same," returned his sister, delighted at this change of
+manner. "Oh, I have so much to tell you that I must sit down,"
+planting herself comfortably on the arm of an easy-chair near him.
+Another time Archie would have rebuked her for her unlady-like
+attitude, and told her, probably, that Grace never did such things;
+but now his interest was so excited that he let it pass for once. He
+even suffered her to take off her old hat and deposit it unreproved on
+the top of his cherished papers. "I was over at Crump's this morning,
+to speak to Bobbie about weeding the garden, when I was surprised to
+see a railway-van unloading furniture at the Friary."
+
+"What an absurd name!" _sotto voce_ from Archie: but he offered no
+further check to Mattie's gossip.
+
+"I asked Mrs. Crump, as a matter of course, the name of the new
+people; and she said it was Challoner. There was a mother and three
+daughters, she believed. She had seen two of them,--pretty,
+nice-spoken young creatures, and quite ladies. They had been down
+before to see the cottage and to have it done up. It looks quite a
+different place already,--nicely painted, and the shrubs trimmed. The
+door was open, and as I stood at Mrs. Crump's window, peeping between
+her geraniums, I saw such a respectable gray-haired woman, like an
+upper servant, carrying something into the house; and a moment after
+one of those young ladies we saw in the Library--not the pretty one,
+but the other--came to the door and spoke to the men."
+
+"Are you sure you did not make a mistake, Mattie?" asked her brother,
+incredulously. "You are very short-sighted: perhaps you did not see
+correctly. How can those stylish-looking girls live in such a shabby
+place? I can hardly believe it possible."
+
+"Oh, it was the same, I am positive about that. She was in the same
+cambric dress you admired. I could see distinctly. I watched her for a
+long time; and then the pretty one came out and joined her. She is
+pretty, Archie, she has such a lovely complexion."
+
+"But are they poor?--they don't look so. What on earth can it mean?"
+he asked, in a perplexed voice; but Mattie only shook her head, and
+went on:
+
+"We must find out all about them by and by. They are worth knowing, I
+am sure of that. Poor?--well, they cannot be rich, certainly, to live
+in the Friary; but they are gentle-people, one can see that in a
+moment."
+
+"Of course! who doubted it?" was the somewhat impatient answer.
+
+"Well, but that is not all," went on Mattie, too delighted with her
+brother's interest to try to curtail her story. "Of course I could not
+stand long watching them, so I did my errand and came away; and then I
+met Miss Middleton, and we walked down to the Library together to
+change those books. Miss Milner was talking to some ladies when we
+first went in and, as Miss Masham was not in the shop, we had to wait
+our turn, so I had a good look at them. The elder one was such a
+pretty, aristocratic-looking woman,--a little too languid, perhaps
+for my taste; and the younger one was a little like Isabel, only
+nicer-looking. I shouldn't have stared at them so much,--at least, I
+am afraid I stared," went on Mattie, forgetting for the moment how
+often she had been taken to task for this very thing,--"but something
+Miss Milner said attracted my attention, 'I am not to send it to the
+Friary, then, ma'am?' 'Well, no,' the lady returned, rather
+hesitatingly. She had such a nice voice and manner, Archie. 'My
+youngest daughter and I are at Beach House at present; I am rather an
+invalid, and the bustle would be too much for me. Dulce, we had better
+have these things sent to Beach House.' And then the young lady
+standing by her said, 'Oh, yes, mother; we shall want them this
+evening.' And then they went out."
+
+"There is a third sister, then?" observed Archie, not pretending to
+disguise his interest in Mattie's recital.
+
+"Yes, there is a third one: she is certainly a little like Isabel; she
+has a dimple like hers, and is of the same height. I asked Miss
+Milner, when they were out of hearing, if their name were Challoner,
+and if they were the new people who were coming to live at the empty
+cottage on the Braidwood Road. I thought she did not seem much
+disposed to give me information. Yes, their name was Challoner, and
+they had taken the Friary; but they were quite strangers in the town,
+and no one knew anything about them. And then Miss Middleton chimed
+in; she said her father had noticed the young ladies some weeks ago,
+and had called her attention to them. They were very pretty girls, and
+had quite taken his fancy; he had not forgotten them, and had spoken
+of them that very morning. She supposed Mrs. Challoner must be a
+widow, and not very well off: did Miss Milner know. Would you believe
+it, Archie? Miss Milner got quite red, and looked confused. You know
+how she enjoys a bit of gossip generally; but the questions seemed to
+trouble her. 'They were not at all well off, she knew that, but nicer
+young ladies she had never seen, or wished to see; and she hoped every
+one would be kind to them, and not forget they were real born ladies,
+in spite of----' And here the old thing got more confused than ever,
+and came to a full stop, and begged to know how she could serve us."
+
+"It is very strange,--very strange indeed," returned her brother, in a
+meditative voice; but, as Mattie had nothing more to tell him, he did
+not discuss the matter any further, only thanked her for her news, and
+civilly dismissed her on the plea that his business was at a
+stand-still.
+
+But he did not resume his accounts for sometime after he was left
+alone. Instead of doing so, he walked to the window and looked out in
+a singularly absent manner. Mattie's news was somewhat exciting. The
+idea of having such pleasant neighbors located within a stone's throw
+of the vicarage was in itself disturbing to the imagination of a young
+man of eight-and-twenty, even though a clergyman. And then, it must be
+confessed, Nan's charming face and figure had never been forgotten:
+he had looked out for the sisters many times since his chance
+encounter with Phillis, and had been secretly disappointed at their
+total disappearance. And now they proved not mere visitors, but
+positively inhabitants of Hadleigh. He would meet them every day; and,
+as there was but one church in the place, they would of course be
+numbered among his flock. As their future clergyman he would have a
+right of entrance to the cottage.
+
+"How soon do you think we ought to call upon them, Mattie?" he asked,
+when he was seated opposite to his sister at the luncheon-table. The
+accounts had not progressed very favorably, and the letter to Grace
+was not yet commenced. Mattie's news had been a sad interruption to
+his morning's work.
+
+"Whom do you mean, Archie," she returned, a little bewildered at this
+abrupt remark; and then, as he frowned at her denseness, she bethought
+herself of the new people. It was not often Archie asked her advice
+about anything, but on this occasion the young vicar felt himself
+incompetent to decide.
+
+"I suppose you mean the new folk at the Friary," she continued,
+carelessly. "Oh, they are only moving in to-day, and they will be in a
+muddle for a week, I should think. I don't think we can intrude for
+ten days or so."
+
+"Not if you think it will be intrusive," he returned, rather
+anxiously; "but they are strangers in the place, and all ladies--there
+does not seem to be a man belonging to them--would it not be
+neighborly, as we live so close, just to call, not in a formal way,
+you know, but just to volunteer help? There are little things you
+could do for them, Mattie; and, as a clergyman, they could not regard
+my visit as an intrusion, I should think. Do you not agree with me?"
+looking at his sister rather gravely.
+
+"Well, I don't know," replied Mattie, bluntly: "I should not care for
+strangers prying into my concerns, if I were in their place. And yet,
+as you say, we are such close neighbors, and one would like to be kind
+to the poor things, for they must be lonely, settling in a strange new
+place. I'll tell you what, Archie," as his face fell at this
+matter-of-fact speech: "it is Thursday, and they will be sure to be at
+church on Sunday; we shall see them there, and that will be an excuse
+for us to call on Monday. We can say then that we are neighbors, and
+that we would not wait until they were all in order. We can offer to
+send them things from the vicarage, or volunteer help in many little
+ways. I think that would be best."
+
+"Yes, perhaps you are right, and we will wait until Monday," returned
+Archie, taking off his soft felt hat. "Now I must go on my rounds, and
+not waste any more time chattering." But, though he spoke with unusual
+good nature, he did not invite Mattie to be his companion, and the
+poor little woman betook herself to the solitary drawing-room and some
+plain sewing for the rest of the afternoon.
+
+The young clergyman stood for a moment irresolutely at the green door,
+and cast a longing glance in the direction of the Friary, where the
+van was still unloading, and then he bethought himself that, though
+Mattie had given orders about the weeding of the garden-paths, it
+would be as well to speak to Crump about the wire fence that was
+wanted for the poultry-yard; and as soon as he had made up his mind on
+this point he walked on briskly.
+
+The last piece of furniture had just been carried in; but, as Mr.
+Drummond was picking his way through the straw and debris that
+littered the side-path, two girlish figures came out of the doorway
+full upon him.
+
+He raised his hat involuntarily, but they drew back at once, and, as
+he went out, confused at this sudden rencontre, the sound of a light
+laugh greeted his ear.
+
+"How annoying that we should always be meeting him!" observed Nan,
+innocently. "Don't laugh, Phillis: he will hear you."
+
+"My dear, it must be fate," returned Phillis solemnly. "I shall think
+it my duty to warn Dick if this goes on." But, in spite of her
+mischievous speech, she darted a quick, interested look after the
+handsome young clergyman as he walked on. Both the girls stood in the
+porch for some minutes after they had made their retreat. They had
+come out to cool themselves and to get a breath of air, until a July
+sun and Mr. Drummond's sudden appearance defeated their intention.
+They had no idea that they were watched from behind the screening
+geraniums in Mrs. Crump's window. Both of them were enveloped in
+Dorothy's bib-aprons, which hid their pretty rounded figures.
+Phillis's cheeks were flushed, and her arms were bare to the dimpled
+elbows; and Nan's brown hair was slightly dishevelled.
+
+"We look just like cooks!" exclaimed Phillis, regarding her coarse
+apron with disfavor; but Nan stretched her arms with a little
+indifference and weariness.
+
+"What does it matter how we look,--like cooks or housemaids? I am
+dreadfully tired; but we must go in and work, Phil. I wonder what has
+become of Dulce?" And then the charming vision disappeared from the
+young clergyman's eyes, and he was free to fix his mind on the wire
+fence that was required for the poultry-yard.
+
+As soon as he had accomplished his errand he set his face towards the
+vicarage, for he made up his mind suddenly that he would call on the
+Middletons, and perhaps on Mrs. Cheyne. The latter was a duty that he
+owed to his pastoral conscience; but there was no need for him to go
+to the Middletons'. Nevertheless, the father and daughter were his
+most intimate friends, and on all occasions he was sure of Miss
+Middleton's sympathy. They lived at Brooklyn,--a low white house a
+little below the vicarage. It was a charming house, he always thought,
+so well arranged and well managed; and the garden--that was the
+colonel's special hobby--was as pretty as a garden could be. The
+drawing-room looked shady and comfortable, for the French windows
+opened into a cool veranda, fitted up with flower-baskets and wicker
+chairs; and beyond lay the trim lawn, with beds of blazing verbenas
+and calceolarias. Miss Middleton's work-table was just within one of
+the windows; but the colonel, in his gray summer suit, reclined in a
+lounging-chair in the veranda. He was reading the paper to his
+daughter, and was just in the middle of last night's debate;
+nevertheless, he threw it aside, well pleased at the interruption.
+
+"I knew how I should find you occupied," observed Mr. Drummond, as he
+exchanged a smile with Miss Middleton. He was fully aware that
+politics were not to her taste, and yet every afternoon she listened
+to such reading, well content even with the sound of her father's
+voice.
+
+Elizabeth Middleton was certainly a charming person. Phillis had
+called her the "gray-haired girl," and the title suited her. She was
+not a girl by any means, having reached her six-and-thirtieth year;
+but her hair was as silvery as an old woman's, gray and plentiful, and
+soft as silk, and contrasted strangely with her still youthful face.
+
+Without being handsome, Elizabeth Middleton was beautiful. Her
+expression was sweet and restful, and attracted all hearts. People who
+were acquainted with her said she was the happiest creature they
+knew,--that she simply diffused sunshine by her mere presence; such a
+contrast, they would add, to her neighbor Mrs. Cheyne, who bore all
+her troubles badly and was of a proud, fretful disposition. But then
+Mrs. Cheyne had lost her husband and her two children, and led such a
+sad, lonely life; and no such troubles had fallen to Miss Middleton.
+
+Elizabeth Middleton could afford to be happy, they said, for she was
+the delight of her father's eyes. Her young half-brother, Hammond, who
+was with his regiment in India, was not nearly so dear to the old man;
+and of course that was why she had never married, that her father's
+house might not be left desolate.
+
+This is how people talked; but not a single person in Hadleigh knew
+that Elizabeth Middleton had had a great sorrow in her life.
+
+She had been engaged for some years most happily, and with her
+father's consent, to one of his brother officers. Captain Sedgwick was
+of good family, but poor; and they were waiting for his promotion, for
+at that time Colonel Middleton would have been unable to give his
+daughter any dowry. Elizabeth was young and happy, and she could
+afford to wait. No girl ever gloried in her lover more than she did in
+hers. Capel Sedgwick was not only brave and singularly handsome, but
+he bore a reputation through the whole regiment for having a higher
+standard of duty than most men.
+
+Promotion came at last, and, just as Elizabeth was gayly making
+preparations for her marriage, fatal tidings were brought to her.
+Major Sedgwick had gone to visit an old servant in the hospital who
+had been struck down with cholera; he had remained with him some time,
+and on his return to his bungalow the same fell disease had attacked
+him, and before many hours were over he was dead. The shock was a
+terrible one; in the first moments of her bitter loss, Elizabeth cried
+out that her misery was too great,--that all happiness was over for
+her in this world, and that she only prayed that she might be buried
+in the same grave with Capel.
+
+The light had not yet come to the poor soul that felt itself afflicted
+past endurance and could find no reason for such pain. It could not be
+said that Elizabeth bore her trouble better than other girls would
+have borne theirs under like circumstances. She fretted and grew thin,
+and dashed herself wildly against the inevitable, only reproaching
+herself for her selfishness and want of submission when she looked at
+her father's care-worn face.
+
+But then came a time when light and peace revisited the wrecked
+heart,--when confused reasonings no longer beset the poor weak brain
+and filled it with dismay and doubt,--when the Divine will became her
+will, and there was no longer submission, but a most joyful surrender.
+And no one, and least of all she herself, knew when the darkness was
+vanquished by that clear uprising of pure radiance, or how those
+brooding wings of peace settled on her soul. From that time, every
+human being that came within her radius was welcome as a new object of
+love. To give and yet to give, and never to be satisfied, was a daily
+necessity of life to Elizabeth. "Now there is some one more to love,"
+she would say to herself, when a new acquaintance was brought to her;
+and, as the old adage is true that tells us love begets love, there
+was no more popular person in Hadleigh than Elizabeth Middleton. She
+had something to say in praise of every one; not that she was blind to
+the faults of her neighbors, but she preferred to be silent and ignore
+them.
+
+And she was especially kind to Mattie. In the early days of their
+intimacy, the young vicar would often speak to her of his sister Grace
+and lament their enforced separation from each other. Miss Middleton
+listened sympathetically, with the same sweet attention that she gave
+to every man, woman, and child that laid claim to it; but once, when
+he had finished, she said, rather gravely,--
+
+"Do you know, Mr. Drummond, that I think your mother was right?"
+
+"Right in dooming Grace to such a life?" he said, pausing in utter
+surprise at her remark.
+
+"Pardon me; it is not her mother who dooms her," returned Miss
+Middleton, quickly, "but duty,--her own sense of right,--everything
+that is sacred. If Mrs. Drummond had not decided that she could not be
+spared, I am convinced from all you tell me, that Grace would still
+have remained at home: her conscience would have been too strong for
+her."
+
+"Well, perhaps you are right," he admitted, reluctantly. "Grace is a
+noble creature, and capable of any amount of self-sacrifice."
+
+"I am sure of it," returned Miss Middleton, with sparkling eyes. "How
+I should like to know her! it would be a real pleasure and privilege;
+but I am very fond of your sister Mattie, too."
+
+"Fond of Mattie!" It was hardly brotherly, but he could not help that
+incredulous tone in his voice. How could such a superior woman as Miss
+Middleton be even tolerant of Mattie?
+
+"Oh, yes," she replied, quite calmly; "I have a great respect for your
+sister. She is so unselfish and amiable, and there is something so
+genuine in her. Before everything one wants truth," finished
+Elizabeth, taking up her work.
+
+Now, as the young clergyman entered the room, she stretched out her
+hand to him with her usual beaming smile.
+
+"This is good of you, to come so soon again," she said, making room
+for him between her father and herself. "But why have you not brought
+Mattie?" and Archie felt as though he had received a rebuke.
+
+"She is finishing some work," he returned, a little confused; "that
+is, what you ladies call work. It is not always necessary for the
+clergywoman to pay visits, is it?"
+
+"The clergywoman, as you call her, is doing too much. I was scolding
+her this morning for not sparing herself more: I thought she was not
+looking quite well, Mr. Drummond."
+
+"Oh, Mattie is well enough," he replied, carelessly. He had not come
+to talk about his sister: a far more interesting subject was in his
+mind. "Do you know, colonel," he went on, with some animation, "that
+you and I have new neighbors? Do you remember the young ladies in the
+blue cambric dresses?" And at this question the colonel threw aside
+his paper at once.
+
+"Elizabeth has been telling me. I remember the young ladies perfectly.
+I could not help noticing them. They walked so well,--heads up, and as
+neat and trim as though they were on parade; pretty creatures, both of
+them. Elizabeth pretends not to be interested, but she is quite
+excited. Look at her!"
+
+"Nay, father, it is you who can talk of nothing else; but it will be
+very nice to have such pleasant neighbors. How soon do you think we
+may call on them?"
+
+And then Archie explained, with some little embarrassment, that he and
+Mattie thought of calling the following Monday and offering their
+services.
+
+"That is very thoughtful of Mattie. She is such a kind-hearted little
+creature, and is always ready to serve everybody."
+
+And then they entered into a discussion on the new-comers that lasted
+so long that the tea-things made their appearance; and shortly
+afterwards Mr. Drummond announced that he must go and call on Mrs.
+Cheyne.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+A VISIT TO THE WHITE HOUSE.
+
+
+Hitherto Mr. Drummond had acknowledged his afternoon to be a success.
+He had obtained a glimpse of the new-comers through Mrs. Crump's
+screen of geraniums, and had listened with much interest to Colonel
+Middleton's innocent gossip, while Miss Middleton had poured out their
+tea. Indeed, his attention had quite flattered his host.
+
+"Really, Drummond is a very intelligent fellow," he observed to his
+daughter, when they were at last left alone,--"a very intelligent
+fellow, and so thoroughly gentlemanly."
+
+"Yes, he is very nice," returned Elizabeth; "and he seems wonderfully
+interested in our new neighbors." And here she smiled a little
+archly.
+
+There was no doubt that Mr. Drummond had fully enjoyed his visit.
+Nevertheless, as he left Brooklyn, and set his face towards the White
+House, his manner changed, and his face became somewhat grave.
+
+He had told himself that he owed it to his pastoral conscience to call
+on Mrs. Cheyne; but, notwithstanding this monition, he disliked the
+duty, for he always felt on these occasions that he was hardly up to
+his office, and that this solitary member of his flock was not
+disposed to yield herself to his guidance. He was ready to pity her if
+she would allow herself to be pitied; but any expression of sympathy
+seemed repugnant to her. Any one so utterly lonely, so absolutely
+without interest in existence, he had never seen or thought to see;
+and yet he could not bring himself to like her, or to say more than
+the mere commonplace utterances of society. Though he was her
+clergyman, and bound by the sacredness of his office to be specially
+tender to the bruised and maimed ones of his flock, he could not get
+her to acknowledge her maimed condition to him, or to do anything but
+listen to him with cold attention, when he hinted vaguely that all
+human beings are in need of sympathy. Perhaps she thought him too
+young, and feared to find his judgments immature and one-sided; but
+certainly his visits to the White House were failures. Mrs. Cheyne was
+still young enough and handsome enough to need some sort of
+chaperonage: and though she professed to mock at conventionality, she
+acknowledged its claims in this respect by securing the permanent
+services of Miss Mewlstone--a lady of uncertain age and uncertain
+acquirements. It must be confessed that every one wondered at Mrs.
+Cheyne and her choice, for no one could be less companionable than
+Miss Mewlstone.
+
+She was a stout, sleepy-looking woman, with a soft voice, and in
+placidity and a certain cosyness of exterior somewhat resembled a
+large white cat. Some people declared she absolutely purred, and
+certainly her small blue eyes were ready to close on all occasions.
+She always dressed in gray,--a very unbecoming color to a stout
+person,--and when not asleep or reading (for she was a great reader)
+she seemed always busy with a mass of soft fleecy wool. No one heard
+her ever voluntarily conversing with her patroness. They would drive
+together for hours, or pass whole evenings in the same room, scarcely
+exchanging a word. "Just so, my dear," she would say, in return to any
+observation made to her by Mrs. Cheyne. "Just so Mewlstone," a young
+wag once nicknamed her.
+
+People stared incredulously when Mrs. Cheyne assured them her
+companion was a very superior woman. They thought it was only her
+satire, and did not believe her in the least. They would have stared
+still more if they had really known the extent of Miss Mewlstone's
+acquirements.
+
+"She seems so stupid, as though she cannot talk," one of Mrs. Cheyne's
+friends said.
+
+"Oh, yes, she can talk, and very well too," returned that lady,
+quietly, "but she knows that I do not care about it; her silence is
+her great virtue in my eyes. And then she has tact, and knows when to
+keep out of the way," finished Mrs. Cheyne, with the utmost frankness;
+and, indeed, it may be doubted whether any other person would have
+retained her position so long at the White House.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne was no favorite with the young pastor, nevertheless she
+was an exceedingly handsome woman. Before the bloom of her youth had
+worn off she had been considered absolutely beautiful. As regarded the
+form of her features, there was no fault to be found, but her
+expression was hardly pleasing. There was a hardness that people found
+a little repelling,--a bitter, dissatisfied droop of the lip, a
+weariness of gloom in the dark eyes, and a tendency to satire in her
+speech, that alienated people's sympathy.
+
+"I am unhappy, but pity me if you dare!" seemed to be written legibly
+upon her countenance; and those who knew her best held their peace in
+her presence, and then went away and spoke softly to each other of the
+life that seemed wasted and the heart that was so hardened with its
+trouble. "What would the world be if every one were to bear their
+sorrows so badly?" they would say. "There is something heathenish in
+such utter want of resignation. Oh, yes, it was very sad, her losing
+her husband and children, but it all happened four or five years ago;
+and you know"--And here people's voices dropped a little ominously,
+for there were vague hints afloat that things had not always gone on
+smoothly at the White House, even when Mrs. Cheyne had her husband.
+She had been an only child, and had married the only survivor of a
+large family. Both were handsome, self-willed young people; neither
+had been used to contradiction. In spite of their love for each other,
+there had been a strife of wills and misunderstandings from the
+earliest days of their marriage. Neither knew what giving up meant,
+and before many months were over the White House witnessed many
+painful scenes. Herbert Cheyne was passionate, and at times almost
+violent; but there was no malice in his nature. He stormed furiously
+and forgave easily. A little forbearance would have turned him into a
+sweet-natured man; but his wife's haughtiness and resentment lasted
+long; she never acknowledged herself in the wrong, never made
+overtures of peace, but bore herself on every occasion as a
+sorely-injured wife, a state of things singularly provoking to a man
+of Herbert Cheyne's irritable temperament.
+
+There was injudicious partisanship as regarded their children: while
+Mrs. Cheyne idolized her boy, her husband lavished most of his
+attentions on the baby girl,--"papa's girl," as she always called
+herself in opposition to "mother's boy."
+
+Mrs. Cheyne really believed she loved her boy best, but when
+diphtheria carried off her little Jane also, she was utterly
+inconsolable. Her husband was far away when it happened: he had been a
+great traveller before his marriage, and latterly his matrimonial
+relations with his wife had been so unsatisfactory that virtual
+separation had ensued. Two or three months before illness, and then
+death, had devastated the nursery at the White House, he had set out
+for a long exploring expedition in Central Africa.
+
+"You make my life so unbearable that, but for the children, I would
+never care to set foot in my home again," he had said to her, in one
+of his violent moods; and, though he repented of this speech
+afterwards, she could not be brought to believe that he had not meant
+it, and her heart had been hard against him even in their parting.
+
+But before many months were over she would have given all she
+possessed--to her very life--to have recalled him to her side. She was
+childless, and her health was broken; but no such recall was possible.
+Vague rumors reached her of some miserable disaster: people talked of
+a missing Englishman. One of the little party had already succumbed to
+fever and hardship; by and by another followed; and the last news that
+reached them was that Herbert Cheyne lay at the point of death in the
+kraal of a friendly tribe. Since then the silence had been of the
+grave: not one of the party had survived to bring the news of his last
+moments: there had been illness and disaster from the first.
+
+When Mrs. Cheyne recovered from the nervous disorder that had
+attacked her on the receipt of this news, she put on widow's mourning,
+and wore it for two years; then she sent for Miss Mewlstone, and set
+herself to go through with the burden of her life. If she found it
+heavy, she never complained: she was silent on her own as on other
+people's troubles. Only at the sight of a child of two or three years
+of age she would turn pale, and draw down her veil, and if it ran up
+to her, as would sometimes happen, she would put it away from her
+angrily, pushing it away almost with violence, and no child was ever
+suffered to cross her threshold.
+
+The drawing-room at the White House was a spacious apartment, with
+four long windows opening on the lawn. Mrs. Cheyne was sitting in her
+low chair, reading, with Miss Mewlstone at the farther end of the
+room, with her knitting-basket beside her; two or three grayhounds
+were grouped near her. They all rushed forward with furious barks as
+Mr. Drummond was announced, and then leaped joyously round him. Mrs.
+Cheyne put down her book, and greeted him with a frosty smile.
+
+She had laid aside her widow's weeds, but still dressed in black, the
+sombreness of her apparel harmonizing perfectly with her pale, creamy
+complexion. Her dress was always rich in material, and most carefully
+adjusted. In her younger days it had been an art with her,--almost a
+passion,--and it had grown into a matter of custom.
+
+"You are very good to come again so soon, Mr. Drummond," she said, as
+she gave him her hand. The words were civil, but a slight inflection
+on the word "soon" made Mr. Drummond feel a little uncomfortable. Did
+she think he called too often? He wished he had brought Mattie; only
+last time she had been so satirical, and had quizzed the poor little
+thing unmercifully; not that Mattie had found out that she was being
+quizzed.
+
+"I hardly thought I should find you at home, it is so fine an
+afternoon; but I made the attempt, you see," he continued, a little
+awkwardly.
+
+"Your parochial conscience was uneasy, I suppose, because I was
+missing at church?" she returned, somewhat slyly. "You would make a
+capital overseer, Mr. Drummond,"--with a short laugh. "A headache is a
+good excuse, is it not? I had a headache, had I not, Miss Mewlstone?"
+
+"Yes, my dear, just so," returned Miss Mewlstone. She always called
+her patroness "my dear."
+
+"Miss Mewlstone gave me the heads of the sermon, so it was not quite
+labor lost, as regards one of your flock. I am afraid you think me a
+black sheep because I stay away so often,--a very black sheep, eh, Mr.
+Drummond?"
+
+"It is not for me to judge," he said, still more awkwardly. "Headaches
+are very fair excuses; and if one be not blessed with good
+health----"
+
+"My health is perfect," she returned, interrupting him ruthlessly. "I
+have no such convenient plea under which to shelter myself. Miss
+Mewlstone suffers far more from headaches than I do. Don't you, Miss
+Mewlstone?"
+
+"Just so; yes, indeed, my dear," proceeded softly from the other end
+of the room.
+
+"I am sorry to hear it," commenced Mr. Drummond, in a sympathizing
+tone of voice. But his tormentor again interrupted him.
+
+"I am a sad backslider, am I not? I wonder if you have a sermon ready
+for me? Do you lecture your parishioners, Mr. Drummond, rich as well
+as poor? What a pity it is you are so young! Lectures are more
+suitable with gray hair; a hoary head might have some chance against
+my satire. A woman's tongue is a difficult thing to keep in order, is
+it not? I dare say you find that with Miss Mattie?"
+
+Mr. Drummond was literally on thorns. He had no repartee ready. She
+was secretly exasperating him as usual, making his youth a reproach,
+and rendering it impossible for him to be his natural frank self with
+her. In her presence he was always at a disadvantage. She seemed to
+take stock of his learning and to mock at the idea of his pastoral
+claims. It was not the first time she had called herself a black
+sheep, or had spoken of her scanty attendances at church. But as yet
+he had not dared to rebuke her; he had a feeling that she might fling
+back his rebuke with a jest, and his dignity forbade this. Some day he
+owed it to his conscience to speak a word to her,--to tell her of the
+evil effects of such an example; but the convenient season had not yet
+arrived.
+
+He was casting about in his own mind for some weighty sentence with
+which to answer her; but she again broke in upon his silence:
+
+"It seems that I am to escape to-day. I hope you are not a lax
+disciplinarian; that comes of being young. Youth is more tolerant,
+they say, of other people's errors: it has its own glass houses to
+mind."
+
+"You are too clever for me, Mrs. Cheyne," returned the young man, with
+a deprecating smile that might have disarmed her. "No, I have not come
+to lecture: my mission is perfectly peaceful, as befits this lovely
+afternoon. I wonder what you ladies find to do all day?" he continued,
+abruptly changing the subject, and trying to find something that would
+not attract her satire.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne seemed a little taken aback by this direct question; and
+then she drew up her beautiful head a little haughtily, and laughed.
+
+"Ah, you are cunning, Mr. Drummond. You found me disposed to take the
+offensive in the matter of church-going, and now you are on another
+track. There is a lecture somewhere in the background. How doth the
+little busy bee, etc. Now, don't frown,"--as Mr. Drummond knitted his
+brows and really looked annoyed: "I will not refuse to be
+catechised."
+
+"I should not presume to catechise you," he returned, hastily. "I
+appeal to Miss Mewlstone if my question were not a very innocent
+one."
+
+"Just so; just so," replied Miss Mewlstone; but she looked a little
+alarmed at this appeal. "Oh, very innocent; oh, very so."
+
+"With two against me I must yield," returned Mrs. Cheyne, with a curl
+of her lip. "What do we do with our time, Miss Mewlstone? Your
+occupation speaks for itself: it is exquisitely feminine. Don't tell
+Miss Mattie, Mr. Drummond, but I never work. I would as soon arm
+myself with a dagger as a needle or a pair of scissors. When I am not
+in the air, I paint. I only lay aside my palette for a book."
+
+"You paint!" exclaimed Archie, with sudden interest. It was the first
+piece of information he had yet gleaned.
+
+"Yes," she returned, indifferently: "one must do something to kill
+time, and music was never my forte. I sketch and draw and paint after
+my own sweet will. There are portfolios full of my sketches in
+there,"--with a movement of her hand towards a curtained recess. "No,
+I know what you are going to say: you will ask to see them; but I
+never show them to any one."
+
+"For what purpose, then, do you paint them?" were the words on his
+lips; but he forbore to utter them. But she read the question in his
+eyes.
+
+"Did I not say one must kill time?" she returned, rather irritably:
+"the occupation is soothing: surely that is reason enough."
+
+"It is a good enough reason, I suppose," he replied, reluctantly, for
+surely he must say a word here; "but one need not talk about killing
+time, with so much that one could do."
+
+Then there came a gleam of suppressed mischief in her eyes:
+
+"Yes, I know: you may spare me that. I will listen to it all next
+Sunday, if you will, when you have it your own way, and one cannot sin
+against decorum and answer you. Yes, yes, there is so much to do, is
+there not?--hungry people to be fed, and sick to visit,--all sorts of
+disagreeables that people call duties. Ah, I am a sad sinner! I only
+draw for my own amusement, and leave the poor old world to get on
+without me. What a burden I must be on your conscience, Mr.
+Drummond,--heavier than all the rest of your parish. What, are you
+going already? and Miss Mewlstone has never given you any tea."
+
+Then Archie explained, very shortly, that he had partaken of that
+beverage at Brooklyn, and his leave-taking was rather more formal than
+usual. He was very much surprised, as he stood at the hall door, that
+always stood open in the summer, to hear the low sweep of a dress over
+the tessellated pavement behind him, and to see a white pudgy hand
+laid on his coat-sleeve.
+
+"My dear Miss Mewlstone, how you startled me!"
+
+"Just so; yes, I am afraid I did, Mr. Drummond; but I just wanted to
+say, never mind all that nonsense; come again: she likes to see you;
+she does, indeed. It is only her way to talk so; she means no harm,
+poor dear,--oh, none at all!"
+
+"Excuse me," returned Archie, in a hurt voice, "but I think you are
+mistaken. Mrs. Cheyne does not care for my visits, and shows me she
+does not: if it were not my duty, I should not come so often."
+
+"No, no; just so, but all the same it rouses her and does her good. It
+is a bad day with her, poor dear!--the very day the darlings were
+taken ill, four years ago. Now, don't go away and fancy things, don't,
+there's a dear young man; come as often as you can, and try and do her
+good."
+
+"Oh, if I only knew how that is to be done!" returned Archie, slowly;
+but he was mollified in spite of himself. There were tears in Miss
+Mewlstone's little blue eyes: perhaps she was a good creature after
+all.
+
+"I will come again, but not just yet," he said, nodding to her
+good-humoredly; but as he walked down the road he told himself that
+Mrs. Cheyne had never before made herself so disagreeable, and that it
+would be long before he set foot in the White House again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+"A FRIEND IN NEED."
+
+
+Human nature is weak, and we are told there are mixed motives to be
+found even in the holiest actions. Mr. Drummond never could be brought
+to acknowledge even to himself the reason why he took so much pains to
+compose his sermon for that Sunday. Without possessing any special
+claim to eloquence, he had always been earnest and painstaking,
+bestowing much labor on the construction and finish of his sentences,
+which were in consequence more elaborate than original. At times, when
+he took less pains and was simpler in style, he seldom failed to
+satisfy his hearers. His voice was pleasant and well modulated, and
+his delivery remarkably quiet and free from any tricks of gestures.
+
+But on this occasion his subject baffled him; he wrote and rewrote
+whole pages, and then grew discontented with his work. On the Sunday
+in question he woke with the conviction that something out of the
+common order of events distinguished the day from other days; but even
+as this thought crossed his mind he felt ashamed of himself, and was
+in consequence a little more dictatorial than usual at the
+breakfast-table.
+
+The inhabitants of Hadleigh were well accustomed to the presence of
+strangers in their church. In the season there was a regular influx
+of visitors that filled the lodging-houses to overflowing. Hadleigh
+had always prided itself on its gentility, as a watering-place it was
+select and exclusive; only the upper middle classes, and a sprinkling
+of the aristocracy, were the habitual frequenters of the little town.
+It was too quiet; it offered too few attractions to draw the crowds
+that flocked to other places. Mr. Drummond's congregation was well
+used by this time to see new faces in the strangers' pew;
+nevertheless, a little thrill of something like surprise and
+excitement moved a few of the younger members as Nan and her sisters
+walked down the aisle, with their mother following them.
+
+"The mother is almost as good-looking as her daughters," thought
+Colonel Middleton, as he regarded the group through his gold-mounted
+eye-glasses, and Miss Middleton looked up for an instant from her
+prayer-book. Even Mrs. Cheyne roused from the gloomy abstraction which
+was her usual approach to devotion, and looked long and curiously at
+the three girlish faces before her. It was refreshing even to her to
+see anything so fresh and bright-looking.
+
+Nan and her sisters were perfectly oblivious of the sensation they
+were making. Nan's pretty face was a trifle clouded: the strange
+surroundings, the sight of all those people unknown to them, instead
+of the dear, familiar faces that had always been before her, gave the
+girl a dreary feeling of oppression and dismay. Her voice quavered
+audibly as she sang, and one or two drops fell on her prayer-book as
+she essayed to join in the petitions.
+
+"Why is there not a special clause in the Litany for those who are
+perplexed and in poverty? It is not only from murder and sudden death
+one need pray to be delivered," thought Nan, with much sinking of
+heart. "Oh, how helpless they were,--so young, and only girls, with a
+great unknown world before them, and Dick away, ignorant of their
+worst troubles, and too youthful a knight to win his spurs and pledge
+himself to their service!"
+
+Nan's sweet downcast face drew many eyes in the direction of the great
+square pew in which they sat. Phillis intercepted some of these looks,
+as her attention insensibly wandered during the service. It was wrong,
+terribly wrong of course, but her thoughts would not concentrate
+themselves on the lesson the young vicar was reading in his best
+style. She was not heavy-hearted like Nan; on the contrary, little
+thrills of excitement, of impatience, of repressed amusement, pervaded
+her mind, as she looked at the strange faces round her "They would not
+be long strange," she thought: "some of them would be her neighbors.
+What would they say, all these people, when they knew----" And here
+Phillis held her breath a moment. People were wondering even now who
+they were. They had dressed themselves that morning, rehearsing their
+parts, as it were, with studied simplicity. The gown Nan wore was as
+inexpensive as a gown could be; her hat was a model of neatness and
+propriety: nevertheless, Phillis groaned in spirit as she glanced at
+her. Where had she got that style? She looked like a young princess
+who was playing at Arcadia. Would people ever dare to ask her to work
+for them? Would they not beg her pardon, and cry shame on themselves
+for entertaining such a thought for a moment? Phillis almost envied
+Nan, who was shedding salt tears on her prayer-book. She thought she
+was absorbed in her devotions, while her own thoughts would wander so
+sadly; and then a handsome face in the opposite pew attracted her
+attention. Surely that must be Mrs. Cheyne, who lived in the White
+House near them, of whom Nan had talked,--the poor woman who had lost
+husband and children and who lived in solitary state. The sermon had
+now commenced, but Phillis turned a deaf ear to the sentences over
+which Mr. Drummond had expended so much labor: her attention was
+riveted by the gloomy beautiful face before her, which alternately
+attracted and repelled her.
+
+As though disturbed by some magnetic influence, Mrs. Cheyne raised her
+eyes slowly and looked at Phillis. Something in the girl's keen-eyed
+glance seemed to move her strangely. The color crept into her pale
+face, and her lip quivered: a moment afterwards she drew down her veil
+and leaned back in her seat and Phillis, somewhat abashed, endeavored
+fruitlessly to gather up the thread of the sermon.
+
+"There! it is over! We have made our _debut_," she said, a little
+recklessly, as they walked back to Beach House, where Mrs. Challoner
+and Dulce were still staying. And as Nan looked at her, a little
+shocked and mystified by this unusual flippancy, she continued in the
+same excited way:
+
+"Was it not strange Mr. Drummond choosing that text, 'Consider the
+lilies'? He looked at us; I am sure he did, mother. It was quite a
+tirade against dress and vanity; but I am sure no one could find fault
+with us."
+
+"It was a very good sermon, and I think he seems a very clever young
+man," returned Mrs. Challoner, with a sigh, for the service had been a
+long weariness for her. She had not been unmindful of the attention
+her girls had caused; but if people only knew--And here the poor lady
+had clasped her hands and put up petitions that were certainly not in
+the Litany.
+
+Phillis seemed about to say something, but she checked herself, and
+they were all a little silent until they reached the house. This first
+Sunday was an infliction to them all: it was a day of enforced
+idleness. There was too much time for thought and room for regret. In
+spite of all Phillis's efforts,--and she rattled on cheerily most of
+the afternoon,--Mrs. Challoner got one of her bad headaches, from
+worry, and withdrew to her room, attended by Dulce, who volunteered to
+bathe her head and read her to sleep.
+
+The church-bells were just ringing for the evening service, and Nan
+rose, as usual, to put on her hat; but Phillis stopped her:
+
+"Oh, Nan, do not let us go to church again this evening. I am terribly
+wicked to-day, I know, but somehow I cannot keep my thoughts in order.
+So what is the use of making the attempt? Let us take out our
+prayer-books and sit on the beach: it is low tide, and a walk over the
+sands would do us good after our dreadful week."
+
+"If you are sure it would not be wrong," hesitated Nan, whose
+conscience was a little hard to convince in such matters.
+
+"No, no. And the run will do Laddie good. The poor little fellow has
+been shut up in this room all day. We need not tell the mother. She
+would be shocked, you know. But we never have stayed away from church
+before, have we? And, to tell you the truth," continued Phillis, with
+an unsteady laugh that betrayed agitation to her sister's ear, "though
+I faced it very well this morning, I do not feel inclined to go
+through it again. People stared so. And I could not help thinking all
+the time, 'If they only knew!'--that was the thought that kept buzzing
+in my head. If only Mr. Drummond and all those people knew!"
+
+"What does it matter what people think?" returned Nan. But she said it
+languidly. In her heart she was secretly dismayed at this sudden
+failure of courage. Phillis had been quite bold and merry all the day,
+almost reckless in her speeches.
+
+"I am glad we came. This will do us both good," said Nan, gently, as
+they left the parade behind them, and went slowly over the shelving
+beach, with Laddie rolling like a clumsy black ball about their feet.
+Just before them there was a pretty black-timbered cottage, covered
+with roses, standing quite low on the shore, and beyond this was
+nothing but shingly beach, and a stretch of wet, yellow sand, on which
+the sun was shining. There was a smooth white boulder standing quite
+alone, on which the girls seated themselves. The tide was still going
+out; and the low wash of waves sounded pleasantly in their ears as
+they advanced and then receded. A shimmer of silvery light played upon
+the water, and a rosy tinge began to tint the horizon.
+
+"How quiet and still it is!" said Phillis, in an awe-struck voice.
+"When we are tired we must come here to rest ourselves. How prettily
+those baby waves seem to babble! it is just like the gurgle of baby
+laughter. And look at Laddie splashing in that pool: he is after that
+poor little crab. Come here, you rogue!" But Laddie, intent upon his
+sport, only cocked his ear restlessly and refused to obey.
+
+"Yes, it is lovely," returned Nan. "There is quite a silvery path over
+the water; by and by the sunset clouds will be beautiful. But what is
+the matter, dear?" as Phillis sighed and leaned heavily against her;
+and then, as she turned, she saw the girl's eyes were wet.
+
+"Oh, Nan! shall we have strength for it? That is what I keep asking
+myself to-day. No you must not look so frightened. I am brave enough
+generally, and I do not mean to lose pluck; but now and then the
+thought will come to me, Shall we have strength to go through with
+it?"
+
+"We must think of each other; that must keep us up," returned Nan,
+whose ready sympathy fully understood her sister's mood. Only to Nan
+would Phillis ever own her failure of courage or fears for the future.
+But now and then the brave young heart needed comfort, and always
+found it in Nan's sympathy.
+
+"It was looking at your dear beautiful face that made me feel so
+suddenly bad this morning," interrupted Phillis, with a sort of sob.
+"It was not the people so much; they only amused and excited me, and I
+kept thinking, 'If they only knew!' But, Nan, when I looked at
+you--oh, why are you so nice and pretty, if you have got to do this
+horrid work?"
+
+"I am not a bit nicer than you and Dulce," laughed Nan, embracing her,
+for she never could be made to understand that by most people she was
+considered their superior in good looks. The bare idea made her angry.
+"It is worse for you, Phillis, because you are so clever and have so
+many ideas. But there! we must not go on pitying each other, or else,
+indeed, we shall undermine our little stock of strength."
+
+"But don't you feel terribly unhappy sometimes?" persisted Phillis.
+Neither of them mentioned Dick, and yet he was in both their minds.
+
+"Perhaps I do," returned Nan, simply; and then she added, with
+quaintness that was pathetic, "You see, we are so unused to the
+feeling, and it is over-hard at first: by and by we shall be more used
+to not having our own way in things."
+
+"I think I could give up that readily, if I could be sure you and
+Dulce were not miserable," sighed Phillis.
+
+"That is what I say," returned Nan. "Don't you see how simple and
+beautiful that is? Thinking of each other gives us strength to go
+through with it all. This evening trying to cheer you up has done me
+good. I do not feel the least afraid of people to-night. Looking at
+that sea and sky makes one feel the littleness and unreality of all
+these worries. What does it matter--what does anything matter--if we
+only do our duty and love each other, and submit to the Divine will?"
+finished Nan, reverently, who seldom spoke of her deeper feelings,
+even to Phillis.
+
+"Nan, you are a saint," returned Phillis, enthusiastically. The
+worried look had left her eyes; they looked clear and bright as usual.
+"Oh, what a heathen I have been to-day! but, as Dulce is so fond of
+saying, 'I am going to be good. I will read the evening Psalms to you,
+in token of my resolution, if you like. But wait: is there not some
+one coming across the sand! How eerie it looks, such a tall black
+figure standing between the earth and sky!"
+
+Phillis had good sight, or she would hardly have distinguished the
+figure, which was now motionless, at such a distance. In another
+moment she even announced that its draperies showed it to be a woman,
+before she opened her book and commenced reading.
+
+There is something very striking in a lonely central figure in a
+scene, the outline cuts so sharply against the horizon. Nan's eyes
+seemed riveted on it as she listened to Phillis's voice; it seemed to
+her as immovable as a Sphinx, its rigidity lending a sort of
+barrenness and forlornness to the landscape, a black edition of human
+nature set under a violet and opal sky.
+
+She almost started when it moved, at last, with a steady bearing, as
+it seemed, towards them; then curiosity quickened into interest, and
+she touched Phillis's arm, whispering breathlessly,--
+
+"The Sphinx moves! Look--is not that Mrs. Cheyne, the lady who lives
+at the White House near us, who always looks so lonely and unhappy?"
+
+"Hush!" returned Phillis, "she will hear you;" and then Mrs. Cheyne
+approached with the same swift even walk. She looked at them for a
+moment, as she passed, with a sort of well-bred surprise in her air,
+as though she marvelled to see them there; her black dress touched
+Laddie, and he caught at it with an impotent bark.
+
+The sisters must have made a pretty picture, as they sat almost
+clinging together on the stone: one of Nan's little white hands rested
+on Laddie's head, the other lay on Phillis's lap. Phillis glanced up
+from her book, keen-eyed and alert in a moment; she turned her head to
+look at the stranger that had excited her interest, and then rose to
+her feet with a little cry of dismay.
+
+"Oh, Nan, I am afraid she has hurt herself! She gave such a slip just
+now. I wonder what has happened? She is leaning against the
+breakwater, too. Shall we go and ask her if she feels ill or
+anything?"
+
+"You may go," was Nan's answer. Nevertheless, she followed Phillis.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne looked up at them a little sharply as they came towards
+her. Her face was gray and contracted with pain.
+
+"I have slipped on a wet stone, and my foot has somehow turned on me,"
+she said, quickly, as Phillis ran up to her. "It was very stupid. I
+cannot think how it happened; but I have certainly sprained my ankle.
+It gives me such pain. I cannot move."
+
+"Oh, dear, I am so sorry!" returned Phillis, good-naturedly; and, in
+the most natural manner, she knelt down on the beach, and took the
+injured foot in her hands. "Yes, I can feel it is swelling dreadfully:
+we must try and get your boot off before the attempt gets too
+painful." And she commenced unfastening it with deft fingers.
+
+"How am I to walk without my boot?" observed Mrs. Cheyne, a little
+drily, as she looked down on the girl; but here Nan interposed in her
+brisk sensible way:
+
+"You must not walk; you must not think of such a thing. We will wet
+our handkerchiefs in the salt water, and bind up your ankle as well as
+we can; and then one of us will walk over to the White House for
+assistance. Your servants could easily obtain a wheeled chair."
+
+"You knew I lived at the White House, then?" returned Mrs. Cheyne,
+arching her eyebrows in some surprise; but she offered no opposition
+to Nan's plan. The removal of the boot had brought on a sensation of
+faintness, and she sat perfectly still and quiet while the girls
+swathed the foot in wet bandages.
+
+"It is a little easier now," she observed, gratefully. "How neatly you
+have done it! you must be used to such work. I am really very much
+obliged to you both for your kindly help; and now I am afraid I must
+trouble you further if I am ever to reach home."
+
+"I will go at once," returned Nan, cheerfully; "but I will leave my
+sister for fear you should feel faint again: besides, it is so
+lonely."
+
+"Oh, I am used to loneliness!" was the reply, as a bitter expression
+crossed her face.
+
+Phillis, who was still holding the sprained foot in her lap, looked up
+in her eager way.
+
+"I think one gets used to everything; that is a merciful dispensation;
+but all the same I hope you will not send me away. I dearly like to be
+useful; and at present my object is to prevent your foot coming into
+contact with these stones. Are you really in less pain now?--you look
+dreadfully pale."
+
+"Oh, that is nothing!" she returned, with a smile so sudden and sweet
+that it quite startled Phillis, for it lit up her face like sunshine;
+but almost before she caught it, it was gone. "How good you are to me!
+and yet I am a perfect stranger!" and then she added, as though with
+an afterthought, "But I saw you in church this morning."
+
+Phillis nodded: the question certainly required no answer.
+
+"If I knew you better, I should ask why your eyes questioned me so
+closely this morning. Do you know, Miss--Miss----" And here she
+hesitated and smiled, waiting for Phillis to fill up the blank.
+
+"My name is Challoner,--Phillis Challoner," replied Phillis, coloring
+a little; and then she added, frankly, "I am afraid you thought me
+rude, and that I stared at you, but my thoughts were all topsy-turvy
+this morning and refused to be kept in order. One feels curious,
+somehow, about the people among whom one has come to live."
+
+"Have you come to live here?" asked Mrs. Cheyne, eagerly, and a gleam
+of pleasure shot into her dark eyes,--"you, and your mother and
+sisters?"
+
+"Yes; we have just come to the Friary,--a little cottage standing on
+the Braidwood Road."
+
+Her manner became a little constrained and reserved as she said this:
+the charming frankness disappeared.
+
+"The Friary!" echoed Mrs. Cheyne; and then she paused for a moment,
+and her eyes rested searchingly on Phillis. "That shabby little
+cottage!" was the thought that filled up the outline of her words;
+but, though she felt inward surprise and a momentary disappointment,
+there was no change in the graciousness of her manner. Never before
+had she so thawed to any one: but the girl's sweet ministry had won
+her heart. "Then you will be near me,--just at my gates? We shall be
+close neighbors. I hope you will come and see me, Miss Challoner."
+
+Poor Phillis! the blood suddenly rushed over her face at this. How was
+she to answer without appearing ungracious?--and yet at this moment
+how could she explain?
+
+"If you please, we are dressmakers." Oh, no! such words as these would
+not get themselves said. It was too abrupt, too sudden, altogether:
+she was not prepared for such a thing. Oh, why had she not gone to the
+White House instead of Nan? Her officiousness had brought this on her.
+She could not put the poor foot off her lap and get up and walk away
+to cool her hot cheeks.
+
+"Thank you; you are very good," she stammered, feeling herself an
+utter fool: she,--Phillis,--the clever one!
+
+Mrs. Cheyne seemed rather taken aback by the girl's sudden reserve and
+embarrassment.
+
+"I suppose you think I should call first, and thank you for your
+kindness," she returned, quickly; "but I was afraid my foot would keep
+me too long a prisoner. And, as we are to be neighbors, I hardly
+thought it necessary to stand on ceremony; but if you would rather
+wait----"
+
+"Oh, no," replied Phillis, in despair; "we will not trouble you to do
+that! Nan and I will call and ask after your foot, and then we will
+explain. There is a little difficulty: you might not care to be
+friends with us if you knew," went on Phillis with burning cheeks;
+"but we will call and explain. Oh, yes, Nan and I will call!"
+
+"Do; I shall expect you," returned Mrs. Cheyne, half amused and half
+mystified at the girl's obvious confusion. What did the child mean?
+They were gentle-people,--one could see that at a glance. They were in
+reduced circumstances: they had come down to Hadleigh to retrench.
+Well, what did that matter? People's wealth or poverty never affected
+her; she would think none the less well of them for that; she would
+call at the Friary and entertain them at the White House with as much
+pleasure as though they lived in a palace. The little mystery piqued
+her, and yet excited her interest. It was long since she had
+interested herself so much in anything. To Miss Middleton she had
+always been cold and uncertain. Mr. Drummond she treated with a
+mixture of satire and haughtiness that aroused his ire. Phillis's
+frankness and simplicity had won her for a moment to her earlier and
+better self: she conceived an instantaneous liking for the girl who
+looked at her with such grave kindly glances. "I shall expect you,
+remember," she repeated, as Nan at that moment appeared in sight.
+
+"Oh, yes, Nan and I will come," returned Phillis, slowly, and almost
+solemnly; but an instant afterwards a flicker of amusement played
+round her mouth. It was painful, of course; but, still, how droll it
+was!
+
+"How long you have been, Nan!" she exclaimed, a little unreasonably,
+as Nan ran towards them, flushed and breathless from her haste.
+
+"It has not been long to me," observed Mrs. Cheyne, pointedly. She
+talked more to Nan than to Phillis after this, until the servants
+appeared with the wheeled chair; but nevertheless her last words were
+for Phillis. "Remember your promise," was all she said, as she held
+out her hand to the girl; and Phillis tried to smile in answer, though
+it was rather a failure after all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+DOROTHY BRINGS IN THE BEST CHINA.
+
+
+"What a fool I made of myself yesterday! but to-day Richard is himself
+again," said Phillis, as she gathered up another muslin curtain in her
+arms ready to hand to Nan, who was mounted on some steps. It was only
+Monday afternoon, but the girls had done wonders: the work-room, as
+they called it, was nearly finished. The great carved wardrobe and
+mahogany table had been polished by Dorothy's strong hands. Mrs.
+Challoner's easy-chair and little work-table at one window looked
+quite inviting; the sewing-machine and Nan's rosewood davenport were
+in their places. A hanging cupboard of old china, and a few well-bound
+books, gave a little coloring and finish, and one or two fine old
+prints that had hung in the dining-room at Glen Cottage had been
+disposed with advantage on the newly-papered walls. An inlaid clock
+ticked on the mantelpiece, and some handsome ruby-colored vases stood
+on either side of it. Nan was quite right when she had glanced round
+her a few minutes ago in a satisfied manner and said no one need be
+ashamed of living in such a room.
+
+"Our pretty things make it look almost too nice for the purpose," she
+continued, handling a precious relic, a Sevres cup and saucer, that
+had been her especial pride in old days. "I think you were wrong,
+Phil, not to have the china in the other room."
+
+"No, indeed; I want people to see it and be struck with our taste,"
+was Phillis's frank answer. "Think what pleasure it will give the poor
+ladies when their dresses are being tried on. Don't you remember the
+basket of wax fruit at Miss Slinders's, when we were small children? I
+thought it the loveliest work of art, and feasted my eyes all the time
+Miss Slinders was fitting my pink frock. Now, our pictures and china
+will refresh people's eyes in the same way."
+
+Nan smiled and shook her head, as she dusted and arranged her
+treasures. The china was very dear to her,--far more than the books
+Phillis was arranging on the chiffonnier. The Dresden figures that
+Dick had given to her mother were among them. She did not care for
+strangers to look at them and appraise their value. They were home
+treasures,--sacred relics of their past. The last time she had dusted
+them, a certain young man of her acquaintance had walked through the
+open window whistling "Blue bonnets over the Border," and had taken up
+his station beside her, hindering her work with his chattering. Dulce
+was in the upper regions, unpacking a box in her mother's room. Mrs.
+Challoner was coming home the next day, and Dorothy and she were hard
+at work getting things in order.
+
+When Phillis made her downright speech, Nan looked down from her lofty
+perch, and held out her arms for the curtain.
+
+"Richard is always himself, my dear," she said, softly. "Do you know
+when you are down, Phil, I feel as though we are all at a stand-still,
+and there's no getting on at all? and then at one of your dear droll
+speeches the sunshine comes out again, and we are all as right as
+possible."
+
+"Don't talk nonsense," was Phillis's blunt answer; but she could not
+help being pleased at the compliment. She looked up archly at Nan, as
+the mass of soft white drapery lay between them; and then they both
+broke into a laugh, just as two shadows seemed to glide past the
+window, and a moment afterwards the house-bell sounded.
+"Visitors!--oh, Nan!" And Phillis glanced down at the neat bib apron
+that she wore over her cambric dress.
+
+"Don't be afraid; Dorothy will have too much sense to admit them,"
+returned Nan, quite indifferently, as she went up a step higher to
+hang up the curtain.
+
+Phillis was still holding it; but her manner was not quite so well
+assured. She thought she heard Dulce's voice in confabulation with the
+stranger. A moment afterwards Dulce came briskly into the room.
+
+"Nan, Mr. Drummond and his sister have kindly called to see us. We are
+not in order, of course. Oh, dear!" as Nan looked down on them with
+startled eyes, not venturing to descend from her perch. "I ought not
+to have brought them in here," looking half mischievously and half
+guiltily at the young clergyman, who stood hat in hand on the
+threshold.
+
+"It is I who ought not to have intruded," he began, in a perfect agony
+of embarrassment, blushing over his face like a girl as Nan looked
+down at him in much dignity, but Mattie, who was behind him, pushed
+forward in her usual bustling way.
+
+"Oh, Miss Challoner, it is too bad! I told Archie that we ought not to
+come too soon----" but Phillis stopped her with an outstretched hand
+of welcome.
+
+"What is too bad? I call it very kind and friendly of you both: one
+hardly expected to find such good neighbors. Nan, if that curtain is
+finished I think you had better come down. Take care; those steps are
+rickety: perhaps Mr. Drummond will help you."
+
+"Let me do the other ones for you. I don't think those steps are
+safe!" exclaimed Archie, with sudden inspiration.
+
+No one at home would have believed such a thing of him. Mattie's eyes
+grew quite round and fixed with astonishment at the sight. He had not
+even shaken hands with Nan, yet there he was, mounted in her place,
+slipping in the hooks with dexterous hands, while Nan quietly held up
+the curtain.
+
+Months afterwards the scene came back on Archibald Drummond with a
+curious thrill half of pain and half of amusement. How had he done it?
+he wondered. What had made him all at once act in a way so unlike
+himself?--for, with the best intention, he was always a little stiff
+and constrained with strangers. Yet there he was laughing as though he
+had known them all his life, because Nan had rebuked him gravely for
+slipping two hooks into one ring. Months afterwards he recalled it
+all: Nan glancing up at him with quietly amused eyes, Phillis standing
+apart, looking quaint and picturesque in her bib-apron, Dulce with the
+afternoon sunshine lighting up her brown hair; the low old-fashioned
+room, with the great carved wardrobe, and the cupboard of dainty
+china; the shady little lawn outside, with Laddie rolling among the
+daisies. What made it suddenly start up in his memory like a picture
+one has seen and never quite forgotten?
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Drummond. You have done it so nicely," said Nan, with
+the utmost gravity, as he lingered, almost unwilling to descend to
+conventionality again. Dulce and Phillis were busily engaged looping
+up the folds. "Now we will ask Dorothy to remove the steps and then we
+can sit down comfortably."
+
+But here Archie interposed:
+
+"Why need you call any one? Tell me where I shall put them." Mattie
+broke into a loud laugh. She could not help it. It was too droll of
+Archie. She must write and tell Grace.
+
+Archie heard the laugh as he marched out of the room with his burden,
+and it provoked him excessively. He made some excuse about admiring
+Laddie, and went out on the lawn for a few minutes, accompanied by
+Nan. When they came back, the curtains were finished and the two girls
+were talking to Mattie. Mattie seemed quite at ease with them.
+
+"We have such a dear old garden at the vicarage," she was saying, as
+her brother came into the room. "I am not much of a gardener myself
+but Archie works for hours at a time. He talks of getting a set of
+tennis down from town. We think it will help to bring people together.
+You must promise to come and play sometimes of an afternoon when you
+have got the cottage in order."
+
+"Thank you," returned Phillis; and then Nan and she exchanged looks. A
+sort of blankness came over the sisters' faces,--a sudden dying out of
+the brightness and fun.
+
+Mr. Drummond grew a little alarmed:
+
+"I hope you will not disappoint my sister. She has few friends, and is
+rather lonely, missing so many sisters; and you are such close
+neighbors."
+
+"Yes, we are close neighbors," returned Phillis. But her voice was a
+little less clear than usual; and, to Archie's astonishment,--for they
+all seemed talking comfortably together,--her face had grown suddenly
+pale. "But you must not think us unkind if we refuse your
+hospitality," she went on, looking straight at him, and not at Mattie.
+"Owing to painful circumstances, we have made up our minds that no
+such pleasure are in store for us. We must learn to do without things:
+must we not, Nan?"
+
+"Yes, indeed," returned Nan, very gravely. And then the tears came
+into Dulce's eyes. Was Phillis actually going to tell them? She would
+have run away, only she was ashamed of such cowardice.
+
+"I hope you do not mean to do without friends," stammered Archie.
+"That would be too painful to bear." He thought they were excusing
+themselves from partaking of their neighbors' hospitality because they
+were too poor to return it, and wanted to set them at their ease. "You
+may have reasons for wishing to be quiet. Perhaps Mrs. Challoner's
+health, and--and--parties are not always desirable," he went on,
+floundering, a little in his speech, and signing to Mattie to come to
+his help, which she did at once, breathlessly:
+
+"Parties! Oh, dear, no! They are such a trouble and expense. But
+tennis and tea on the lawn is just nothing,--nothing at all. One can
+give a little fruit and some home-made cake. No one need scruple at
+that. Archie is not rich,--clergymen never are, you know,--but he
+means to entertain his friends as well as he can. I should like you to
+see Miss Middleton. She is a charming person. And the colonel is as
+nice as possible. We will just ask them to meet you in a quiet way,
+and, if your mother is not too much of an invalid, I hope she will
+give us the pleasure of her company, for when people are such close
+neighbors it is stupid to stand on ceremony," finished Mattie,
+bringing herself rapidly to a full stop.
+
+"You are very kind. But you do not understand," returned Phillis. And
+then she stopped, and a gleam of fun came into her eyes. Her sharp
+ears had caught the rattle of cups and saucers. Actually, that absurd
+Dorothy was bringing in tea in the old way, making believe that they
+were entertaining their friends in Glen Cottage fashion! She must get
+out the truth somehow before the pretty purple china made its
+appearance. "Oh," she went on, with a sort of gulp, as though she felt
+the sudden touch of cold water, "you come here meaning kindly, and
+asking us to your house, and taking compassion upon us because we are
+strangers and lonely, and you do not know that we are poor, and that
+we have lost our money, and----" But here Mr. Drummond was absolutely
+rude enough to interrupt her:
+
+"What does that matter, my dear Miss Challoner? Do you think that is
+of any consequence in mine or my sister's eyes? I suppose if I be your
+clergyman----" And then he stopped, and stroked his beard in an
+embarrassed way; for though Phillis's face was pale, there was
+laughter in her eyes.
+
+"Oh, if this be a parochial visit," she began, demurely; "but you
+should not have talked of tennis, Mr. Drummond. How do you know we are
+not Roman Catholics, or Wesleyans, or even Baptists, or Bible
+Christians? We might have gone to your church out of curiosity on
+Sunday, or to see the fashions. There is not a Quaker cut about us;
+but, still, we might be Unitarians, and people would not find it out,"
+continued Phillis, looking with much solemnity at the bewildered young
+Anglican.
+
+The situation was too absurd; there was no knowing to what length
+Phillis's recklessness and sense of humor would have brought her, only
+Nan's good sense came to the rescue:
+
+"Phillis is only in fun, Mr. Drummond. Of course we are Church-people:
+and of course we hope to attend your services. I am sure my mother
+will be pleased to see you, when you are kind enough to call. At
+Oldfield we were always good friends with our clergyman: he was such a
+dear old man."
+
+"Do you mean to forbid my sister's visits, then?" asked Archie,
+looking anxiously at her sweet face; Nan looked so pretty, in spite of
+her discomposure.
+
+"Oh, no! we do not mean to be so rude: do we, Phillis? We shall be so
+glad to see Miss Drummond; but--but," faltered Nan, losing breath a
+little, "we have been unfortunate, and must work for our living; and
+your sister perhaps would not care to visit dressmakers."
+
+"What!" exclaimed Archie: he almost jumped out of his chair in his
+surprise.
+
+Phillis had uttered a faint "Bravo, Nan!" but no one heard her.
+Dulce's cheeks were crimson, and she would not look at any one; but
+Nan, who had got out the dreaded word, went on bravely, and was well
+hugged by Phillis in private afterwards.
+
+"We are not clever enough for governesses," continued Nan, with a
+charming smile, addressing Mattie, who sat and stared at her, "and
+there was nothing we dreaded so much as to separate: so, as we had
+capable fingers and were fond of work, my sister Phillis planned this
+for us. Now you see, Miss Drummond, why we could not accept your kind
+hospitality. Whatever we have been, we cannot expect people to visit
+us now. If you would be good enough to recommend us, and help us in
+our efforts to make ourselves independent, that is all we can ask of
+you."
+
+"Well, I don't know," returned Mattie, bluntly: "as far as I am
+concerned, I am never ashamed of any honest calling. What do you say,
+Archie?"
+
+"I say it is all very proper and laudable," he returned, hesitating;
+"but surely--surely there must be some other way more suitable to
+ladies in your position! Let me call again when your mother comes, and
+see if there is nothing that I can do or recommend better than this.
+Yes, I am sure if I can only talk to your mother, we could find some
+other way than this."
+
+"Indeed, Mr. Drummond, you must do nothing of the kind," replied
+Phillis, in an alarmed voice: "the poor dear mother must not be
+disturbed by any such talk! You mean it kindly, but we have made up
+our own minds, Nan and I: we mean to do without the world and live in
+one of our own; and we mean to carry out our plan in defiance of
+everything and everybody; and, though you are our clergyman and we are
+bound to listen to your sermons, we cannot take your advice in this."
+
+"But--but I would willingly act as a friend," began the young man,
+confusedly, looking not at her, but at Nan.
+
+He was so bewildered, so utterly taken aback, he hardly knew what he
+said.
+
+"Here comes Dorothy with the tea," interrupted Nan, pleasantly, as
+though dismissing the subject: "she has not forgotten our old customs.
+Friends always came around us in the afternoon. Mr. Drummond, perhaps
+you will make yourself useful and cut the cake. Dorothy, you need not
+have unpacked the best silver teapot." Nan was moving about in her
+frank hospitable way. Laddie was whining for cake, and breaking into
+short barks of impatience. "This is one of our Glen Cottage cakes.
+Susan always prides herself on the recipe," said Nan, calmly, as she
+pressed it on her guests.
+
+Mr. Drummond almost envied his sister as she praised the cake and
+asked for the recipe. He had always found fault with her manners; but
+now nothing could be finer than her simplicity. Pure good nature and
+innate womanliness were teaching Mattie something better than tact.
+Nan had dropped a painful subject, and she would not revive it in her
+brother's presence. There would be plenty of time for her to call and
+talk it over with them quietly. Help them!--of course she would help
+them. They should have her new silk dress that Uncle Conway had just
+sent her. It was a risk, for perhaps they might spoil it; but such
+fine creatures should have a chance. At present she would only enjoy
+the nice tea, and talk to poor little frightened Dulce, who seemed
+unable to open her lips after her sister's disclosure.
+
+Archie could not emulate her ease: a man is always at a disadvantage
+in such a case. His interest had sustained no shock: it was even
+stimulated by what he had just heard; but his sympathy seemed all at
+once congealed, and he could find no vent for it. In spite of his best
+efforts his manner grew more and more constrained every moment.
+
+Nan looked at him more than once with reproachful sweetness. She
+thought they had lost caste in his eyes; but Phillis, who was shrewd
+and sharp-set in her wits, read him more truly. She knew--having
+already met a score of such--how addicted young Englishmen are to
+_mauvaise honte_, and how they will hide acute sensibilities under
+blunt and stolid exteriors; and there was a certain softness in Mr.
+Drummond's eye that belied his stiffness. Most likely he was very
+sorry for them, and did not know how to show it; and in this she was
+right.
+
+Mr. Drummond was very sorry for them; but he was still more grieved
+for himself. The Oxford fellow had not long been a parish priest, and
+he could not at all understand the position in which he found
+himself,--taking tea with three elegant young dressmakers who talked
+the purest English and had decided views on tennis and horticulture.
+He had just been congratulating himself on securing such companionship
+for his sister and himself. Being rather classical-minded, he had been
+calling them the gray-eyed Graces, and one of them at least "a
+daughter of the gods,--divinely tall and most divinely fair;" for
+where had he seen anything to compare with Nan's bloom and charming
+figure? Dressmakers!--oh, if only Grace were at hand, that he might
+talk to her, and gain her opinion how he was to act in such case!
+Grace had the stiff-necked Drummond pride as well as he, and would
+hesitate long behind the barriers of conventionality. No wonder, with
+all these thoughts passing through his mind, that Nan, with her bright
+surface talk, found him a little vague.
+
+It was quite a relief to all the party when Mattie gave the signal for
+departure and the bell was rung for Dorothy to show them out.
+
+"Well, Nan, what do you think of our visitors?" asked Phillis, when
+the garden-door had clanged noisily after them, and she had treated
+Nan to the aforesaid hugs; "for you were so brave, darling, and
+actually took the wind out of my sails!" exclaimed the enthusiastic
+Phillis. "Miss Drummond is not so bad, after all, is she, in spite of
+her dowdiness and fussy ways?"
+
+"No; she means well; and so does her brother. He is very nice, only
+his self-consciousness spoils him," returned Nan, in a calm,
+discursive tone, as though they were discussing ordinary visitors.
+
+It was impossible for these young girls to see that their ordinary
+language was not humble enough for their new circumstances. They would
+make mistakes at every turn, like Dorothy, who got out the best china
+and brewed her tea in the melon-shaped silver teapot.
+
+Phillis opened her eyes rather widely at this. Nan was not often so
+observant. It was true: self-consciousness was a torment to Archibald
+Drummond, a Frankenstein of his own creation, that had grown
+imperceptibly with his growth to the fell measure of his manhood, as
+inseparable as the shadow from the substance. Phillis had recognized
+it at once; but then, as she said, no one was faultless; and then, he
+was so handsome. "Very handsome" chimed in Dulce, whose opinions were
+full-fledged in such matters.
+
+"Is he? Well, I never cared for a man with a long fair beard,"
+observed Nan, carelessly. Poor Archie! how his vanity would have
+suffered if he had heard her! for, in a masculine way, he prided
+himself excessively on the soft silky appendage that Grace had so
+often praised. A certain boyish countenance, with kindly honest eyes
+and a little sandy moustache, was more to Nan's taste than the
+handsome young Anglican.
+
+"Oh, we all know Nan's opinion in such matters," said Dulce, slyly;
+and then Nan blushed, and suddenly remembered that Dorothy was waiting
+for her in the linen-closet, and hurried away, leaving her sisters to
+discuss their visitors to their hearts' content.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+ARCHIE IS IN A BAD HUMOR.
+
+
+"Oh, Archie, I was never more astonished in my life!" exclaimed
+Mattie, as she tried to adapt her uneven trot to her brother's long
+swinging footsteps; and then she glanced up in his face to read his
+mood: but Archie's features were inscrutable and presented an
+appalling blank. In his mind he was beginning his letter to Grace, and
+wondering what he should say to her about their new neighbors.
+"Writing is such a nuisance when one wants to talk to a person," he
+thought, irritably.
+
+"Oh, Archie, won't you tell me what we are to do?" went on Mattie,
+excitedly. She would not take Archie's silence as a hint that he
+wanted to keep his thoughts to himself. "Those poor girls! oh, how
+nice and pretty they all are, especially the eldest! and is not the
+youngest--Dulce, I think they called her--the very image of Isabel?"
+
+"Isabel! not a bit. That is so like you, Mattie. You always see
+likenesses when other people cannot trace the faintest resemblance,"
+for this remark was sure to draw out his opposition. Isabel was a
+silly flirting little thing in her brother's estimation, and, he
+thought, could not hold a candle to the youngest Miss Challoner.
+
+"Oh dear! now I have made you cross!" sighed poor Mattie, who
+especially wanted to keep him in good humor. "And yet every one but
+you thinks Isabel so pretty. I am sure, from what Grace said in her
+last letter, that Mr. Ellis Burton means to propose to her."
+
+"And I suppose you will all consider that a catch," sneered Archie.
+"That is so like a parcel of women, thinking every man who comes to
+the house and makes a few smooth-tongued speeches--is, in fact,
+civil--must be after a girl. Of course you have all helped to instill
+this nonsense into the child's head."
+
+"Dear me, how you talk, Archie!" returned Mattie, feeling herself
+snubbed as usual. Why, Archie had been quite excited about it only the
+other day, and had said quite seriously that with seven girls in a
+family, it would be a great blessing if Isabel could make such a
+match; for it was very unlikely that Laura and Susie, or even Clara,
+would do much for themselves in that way, unless they decidedly
+improved in looks.
+
+"Well, it is nothing to me," he returned in a chilling manner; "we all
+know our own mind best. If an angular lantern-jawed fellow like
+Burton, who, by the bye, does not speak the best English, is to
+Isabel's taste, let her have him by all means: he is well-to-do, and I
+dare say will keep a carriage for her by and by: that is what you
+women think a great advantage," finished Archie, who certainly seemed
+bent on making himself disagreeable.
+
+Mattie heaved another great sigh, but she did not dare to contradict
+him. Grace would have punished him on the spot by a dose of satire
+that would have brought him to reason and good nature in a moment; but
+Mattie ventured only on those laborious sighs which she jerked up from
+the bottom of her honest little heart.
+
+Archie heard the sigh, and felt ashamed of his bad temper. He did not
+know himself why he felt so suddenly cross; some secret irritation was
+at work within him, and he could scarcely refrain from bidding Mattie
+quite roughly to hold her tongue and not tease him with her chatter.
+If she expected him in his present state of mind, which was at once
+contradictory and aggressive, to talk to her about the Challoners, she
+must just make up her mind to be disappointed, for he could not bring
+himself to speak of them to her just now: he wanted to hold counsel
+with his own thoughts and with Grace. He would call at the Friary
+again and see Mrs. Challoner, and find out more of this strange
+matter; but as to talking it over with Mattie, he quite shrugged his
+shoulders as he swung open the green door.
+
+"Are you going in?" faltered Mattie, as she noticed this movement.
+
+"Well, yes; I have letters to write, and it is too hot for a longer
+walk," he returned, decidedly; and then, as Mattie stood hesitating
+and wistful in the middle of the road, he strode off, leaving the door
+to close noisily after him, and not caring to inquire into her further
+movements, such being the occasional graceless manners of brothers
+when sisterly friendship is not to their liking.
+
+Mattie felt snubbed; but for the first time in her life, she did not
+take her snubbing meekly. It was too much to expect of her, who was
+only a woman and not one of Archie's divinities, that she should
+follow him into the house and hold her tongue just because he was
+pleased to refrain from speaking. Water must find its vent; and
+Mattie's tongue could not be silenced in this way. If Archie would not
+talk to her, Miss Middleton would: so at once she trotted off for
+Brooklyn, thereby incurring Archie's wrath if he could only have known
+her purpose; for gossip was to him as the sin of witchcraft, unless he
+stooped to it himself, and then it was amiable sociability.
+
+Miss Middleton was listening to her father's reading as usual, but she
+welcomed Mattie with open arms, literally as well as metaphorically,
+for she kissed Mattie on either cheek, and then scolded her tenderly
+for looking so flushed and tired; "for somebody who is always looking
+after other people, and never has time to spare for herself, is
+growing quite thin; is she not, father? and we must write to Grace if
+this goes on," finished Miss Middleton, with one of her kind looks.
+
+All this was cordial to poor Mattie, who, though she was used to
+snubbing, and took as kindly to it as a spaniel to water, yet felt
+herself growing rather like a thread-paper and shabby with every-day
+worries and never an encouraging word to inspirit her.
+
+So she gave Elizabeth a misty little smile,--Mattie's smile was
+pretty, though her features were ordinary,--and then sat up straight
+and began to enjoy herself,--that is, to talk,--never noticing that
+Colonel Middleton looked at his paper in a crestfallen manner, not
+much liking the interruption and the cessation of his own voice.
+
+"Oh, dear!" began Mattie: she generally prefaced her remarks by an
+"Oh, dear!" ("That was one of her jerky ways," as Archie said.) "I
+could not help coming straight to you, for Archie would not talk, and
+I felt I must tell somebody. Oh, dear, Miss Middleton! What do you
+think? We have just called at the Friary--and----" but here Colonel
+Middleton's countenance relaxed, and he dropped his paper.
+
+"Those young ladies, eh? Come, Elizabeth, this is interesting. Well,
+what sort of place is the Friary, seen from the inside, eh, Miss
+Drummond?"
+
+"Oh, it is very nice," returned Mattie, enthusiastically. "We were
+shown into such a pretty room, looking out on the garden. They have so
+many nice things,--pictures, and old china, and handsomely-bound
+books, and all arranged so tastefully. And before we went away, the
+old servant--she seems really quite a superior person--brought in an
+elegant little tea-tray: the cups and saucers were handsomer even than
+yours, Miss Middleton,--dark-purple and gold. Just what I admire
+so----"
+
+"Ah, reduced in circumstances! I told you so, Elizabeth," ejaculated
+the colonel.
+
+"I never saw Archie enjoy himself so much or seem so thoroughly at
+home anywhere. Somehow, the girls put us so at our ease. Though they
+were hanging up curtains when we went in,--and any one else would have
+been annoyed at our intruding so soon,--actually, before we were in
+the room a moment, Archie was on the steps, helping the eldest Miss
+Challoner fasten the hooks."
+
+Miss Middleton exchanged an amused look with her father. Mattie's
+narrative was decidedly interesting.
+
+"Oh, don't tell him I repeated that, for he is always calling me
+chatterbox!" implored Mattie, who feared she had been indiscreet, and
+that the colonel was not to be trusted, which was quite true as far as
+jokes were concerned. No one understood the art of teasing better than
+he, and the young vicar had already had a taste of his kindly satire.
+"Archie only meant to be good-natured and put every one at their
+ease."
+
+"Quite right. Mr. Drummond is always kind," returned Elizabeth,
+benignly. She had forgotten Mattie's frequent scoldings, and the poor
+little thing's tired face, or she would never have hazarded such a
+compromise with truth. But somehow Elizabeth always forgot people's
+weaknesses, especially when they were absent. It was so nice and easy
+to praise people; and if she always believed what she said, that was
+because her faith was so strong, and charity that is love was her
+second nature.
+
+"Oh, yes, of course," returned Mattie, innocently. She was far too
+loyal a little soul to doubt Archie's kindness for a moment. Was he
+not the pride and ornament of the family,--the domestic pope who
+issued his bulls without possibility of contradiction? Whatever Archie
+did must be right. Was not that their domestic creed?--a little
+slavish, perhaps, but still so exquisitely feminine. Mattie was of
+opinion that--well, to use a mild term--irritability was a necessary
+adjunct of manhood. All men were cross sometimes. It behooved their
+womankind, then, to throw oil on the troubled waters,--to speak
+peaceably, and to refrain from sour looks, or even the shadow of a
+frown. Archie was never cross with Grace: therefore it must be she,
+Mattie, on whom the blame lay; she was such a silly little thing, And
+so on. There is no need to follow the self-accusation of one of the
+kindest hearts that ever beat.
+
+"Did not your visit end as pleasantly as it began?" asked Elizabeth,
+who, though she was over-merciful in her judgments, was not without a
+good deal of sagacity and shrewdness. Something lay beyond the margin
+of Mattie's words, she could see that plainly; and then her father was
+getting impatient.
+
+"Well, you see, that spoiled everything," returned Mattie, jumbling
+her narrative in the oddest manner. "Archie was so sorry, and so was
+I; and he got quite--you know his way when he feels uncomfortable. I
+thought Miss Challoner was joking at first,--that it was just a bit of
+make-believe fun,--until I saw how grave Miss Phillis, that is the
+second one, looked: and then the little one--at least, she is not
+little, but somehow one fancies she is--seemed as though she were
+going to cry."
+
+"But what did Miss Challoner say to distress you and Mr. Drummond so?"
+asked Elizabeth, trying patiently to elicit facts and not vague
+statements from Mattie.
+
+"Oh, she said--no, please don't think I am exaggerating, for it is all
+true--that they had lost their money, and were very poor, and, that
+she and her sisters were dressmakers."
+
+"Dressmakers!" shouted the colonel, and his ruddy face grew almost
+purple with the shock: his very moustache seemed to bristle.
+"Dressmakers! my dear Miss Drummond, I don't believe a word of it!
+Those girls! It is a hoax!--a bit of nonsense from beginning to end!"
+
+"Hush, father! you are putting Mattie out," returned Elizabeth,
+mildly. It was one of her idiosyncrasies to call people as soon as
+possible by their Christian names, though no one but her father and
+brother ever called her Elizabeth. Perhaps her gray hair, and a
+certain soft dignity that belonged to her, forbade such freedom. "Dear
+father, we must let Mattie speak." But even Elizabeth let her work lie
+unheeded in her lap in the engrossing interest of the subject.
+
+"I do not mean they have been dressmakers all this time, but this is
+their plan for the future. Miss Challoner said they were not clever
+enough for governesses, and that they did not want to separate. But
+that is what they mean to do,--to make dresses for people who are not
+half so good as themselves."
+
+"Preposterous! absurd!" groaned the colonel. "Where is their
+mother? What can the old lady be thinking about?" Mrs. Challoner
+was not an old lady by any means; but then the choleric colonel had
+never seen her, or he would not have applied that term to the
+aristocratic-looking gentlewoman whom Mattie had admired in Miss
+Milner's shop.
+
+"I had a good look round the room afterwards," went on Mattie,
+letting this pass. "They had got a great carved wardrobe,--I thought
+that funny in a sitting-room; but of course it was for the
+dresses,"--another groan from the colonel,--"and there was a
+sewing-machine, and a rosewood davenport for accounts, and a
+chiffonnier of course for the pieces. Oh, they mean business; and I
+should not be surprised if they understand their work well," went on
+Mattie, warming up to her subject and thinking of the breadths of
+green silk that reposed so snugly between silver paper in her
+drawers at the vicarage,--the first silk dress she had ever owned,
+for the Drummond finances did not allow of such luxuries,--the new
+color, too; such a soft, invisible, shadowy green, like an autumn
+leaf shrivelled by the sun's richness. "Oh, if they should spoil it!"
+thought Mattie, with a sigh, as the magnitude of her intended
+sacrifice weighed heavily upon her mind.
+
+"It is sheer girlish nonsense,--I might say foolery; and the mother
+must be a perfect idiot!" began the colonel, angrily.
+
+He was an excitable man; and his wrath at the intelligence was really
+very great. He had taken a fancy to the new-comers, and was prepared
+to welcome them heartily in his genial way; but now his old-fashioned
+prejudices were grievously wounded. It was against his nice code of
+honor that women should do anything out of the usual beaten groove:
+innovations that would make them conspicuous were heinous sins in his
+eyes.
+
+"Come, Mattie, you and I will have a chat about this by ourselves,"
+observed Elizabeth, cheerfully, as she noticed her father's vexation.
+He would soon cool down if left to himself: she knew that well.
+"Suppose we go down to Miss Milner, and hear what she has to say: you
+may depend upon it that it was this that made her so reserved with us
+the other day."
+
+"Oh, do you think so?" exclaimed Mattie; but she was charmed at the
+idea of fresh gossip. And then they set off together.
+
+Miss Milner seemed a little surprised to see them so soon, for Mattie
+had already paid her a visit that day; but at Miss Middleton's first
+words a look of annoyance passed over her good-natured face.
+
+"Dear, dear! to think of that leaking out already," she said, in a
+vexed voice; "and I have not spoken to a soul, because the young
+ladies asked me to keep their secret a few days longer. 'You must give
+us till next Monday,' one of them said this very morning: 'by that
+time we shall be in order, and then we can set to work.'"
+
+"It was Miss Challoner who told me herself," observed Mattie, in a
+deprecating manner. "My brother and I called this afternoon: you see,
+being the clergyman, and such close neighbors, he thought we might be
+of some use to the poor things."
+
+"Poor things indeed!" ejaculated Miss Milner. "I cannot tell you how
+bad I felt," she went on, her little gray curls bobbing over her high
+cheek-bones with every word, "when that dear young lady put down her
+head there"--pointing to a spot about as big as a half-crown on the
+wooden counter--"and cried like a baby. 'Oh, how silly I am!' she
+said, sobbing-like; 'and what would my sisters say to me? But you are
+so kind, Miss Milner; and it does seem all so strange and horrid.' I
+made up my mind, then and there," finished the good woman, solemnly,
+"that I would help them to the best of my powers. I have got their
+bits of advertisements to put about the shop; and there's my new black
+silk dress, that has laid by since Christmas, because I knew Miss
+Slasher would spoil it; not but what they may ruin it finely for me;
+but I mean to shut my eyes and take the risk," with a little smile of
+satisfaction over her own magnanimity.
+
+Elizabeth stretched out her hand across the counter.
+
+"Miss Milner, you are a good creature," she said, softly. "I honor you
+for this. If people always helped each other and thought so little of
+a sacrifice, the world would be a happier place." And then, without
+waiting for a reply from the gratified shopwoman, she went out of the
+library with a thoughtful brow.
+
+"Miss Milner has read me a lesson," she said, by and by, when Mattie
+had marvelled at her silence a little. "Conventionality makes cowards
+of the best of us. I am not particularly worldly-minded," she went on,
+with a faint smile, "but all the same I must plead guilty to feeling a
+little shocked myself at your news; but when I have thought a little
+more about it, I dare say I shall see things by a truer light, and be
+as ready to admire these girls as I am now to wonder at them." And
+after this she bade Mattie a kindly good-bye.
+
+Meanwhile, Phillis was bracing herself to undergo another ordeal. Mr.
+Drummond and his sister had only just left the cottage when a footman
+from the White House brought a note for her. It was from Mrs. Cheyne,
+and was worded in a most friendly manner.
+
+She thanked the sisters gracefully for their timely help on the
+previous evening, and, though making light of her accident, owned that
+it would keep her a prisoner to her sofa for a few days; and then she
+begged them to waive ceremony and come to her for an hour or two that
+evening.
+
+"I will not ask you to dinner, because that will perhaps inconvenience
+you, as you must be tired or busy," she wrote; "but if one or both of
+you would just put on your hats and walk up in the cool of the evening
+to keep Miss Mewlstone and myself company, it would be a real boon to
+us both." And then she signed herself "Magdalene Cheyne."
+
+Phillis wore a perplexed look on her face as she took the note to Nan,
+who was still in the linen-closet.
+
+"Very kind; very friendly," commented Nan, when she had finished
+reading it; "but I could not possibly go, Phil. As soon as I have done
+this I have promised to sit with mother. She has been alone all day.
+You could easily send an excuse, for Mrs. Cheyne must know we are
+busy."
+
+"I don't feel as though an excuse will help us here," returned
+Phillis, slowly. "When an unpleasant thing has to be done, it is as
+well to get it over: thinking about it only hinders one's sleep."
+
+"But you will surely not go alone!" demanded Nan, in astonishment.
+"You are so tired, Phil: you have been working hard all day. Give it
+up, dear, and sit and rest in the garden a little."
+
+"Oh, no," returned Phillis, disconsolately. "I value my night's rest
+too much to imperil it so lightly: besides, I owe it to myself for a
+penance for being such a coward this afternoon." And then, without
+waiting for any further dissuasion, she carried off the letter and
+wrote a very civil but vague reply, promising to walk up in the
+evening and inquire after the invalid; and then she dismissed the
+messenger, and went up to her room with a heavy heart.
+
+Dulce came to help her, like a dutiful sister, and chattered on
+without intermission.
+
+"I suppose you will put on your best dress?" she asked, as she dived
+down into the recesses of a big box.
+
+Phillis, who was sitting wearily on the edge of her bed, roused up at
+this:
+
+"My best blue silk and cashmere, that we wore last at Fitzroy Lodge?
+Dulce, how can you be so absurd! Anything will do,--the gray stuff, or
+the old foulard. No, stop; I forgot: the gray dress is better made and
+newer in cut. We must think of that. Oh, what a worry it is going out
+when one is tired to death!" she continued, with unusual irritation.
+
+Dulce respected her sister's mood, and held her peace, though she knew
+the gray dress was the least becoming to Phillis, who was pale, and
+wanted a little color to give her brightness.
+
+"There, now, you look quite nice," she said, in a patronizing voice,
+as Phillis put on her hat and took her gloves. Phillis nodded her
+thanks rather sadly, and then bethought herself and came back and
+kissed her.
+
+"Thank you, dear Dulce; I am not nearly so tired now; but it is
+getting late, and I must run off." And so she did until she had turned
+the corner, and then, in spite of herself, her steps became slower and
+more lagging.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+"YOU ARE ROMANTIC."
+
+
+Human nature is prone to argument; a person will often in the course
+of a few moments bring himself or herself to the bar of conscience,
+and accuse, excuse, and sum up the case in the twinkling of an eye.
+
+On arriving at the lodge-gates Phillis began to take herself to task.
+Conscience, that "makes cowards of us all," began its small inner
+remonstrance; then followed self-flagellation and much belaboring of
+herself with many remorseful terms. She was a pitiful thing compared
+to Nan; she was conventional; there were no limits to her pride. Where
+were that freedom and nobility of soul which she once fancied would
+sweep over worldly prejudices, and carry her into purer air? She was
+still choking in the fogs of mere earthly exhalations; no wonder Nan
+was a little disappointed in her, though she was far too kind to say
+so. Well, she was disappointed in herself.
+
+By this time she had reached the hall door; and now she began to hold
+up her head more boldly, and to look about her; when a very
+solemn-looking butler confronted her, she said to herself, "It will be
+all the same a hundred years hence, and I am determined this time not
+to be beaten;" and then she asked for Mrs. Cheyne with something of
+her old sprightliness, and nothing could exceed the graceful ease of
+her entrance.
+
+All the Challoners walked well. There was a purity of health about
+them that made them delight in movement and every bodily exercise,--an
+elasticity of gait that somehow attracted attention.
+
+No girls danced better than they. And when they had the chance, which
+was seldom, they could ride splendidly. Their skating was a joy to
+see, and made one wish that the ice would last forever, that one could
+watch such light, skimming practice; and as for tennis, no other girl
+had a chance of being chosen for a partner unless the Challoners
+good-naturedly held aloof, which ten times out of twelve they were
+sure to do.
+
+Phillis, who, from her pale complexion, was supposed to possess the
+least vitality, delighted in exercise for its own sake. "It is a
+pleasure only to be alive and to know it," was a favorite speech with
+her on summer mornings, when the shadows were blowing lightly hither
+and thither, and the birds had so much to say that it took them until
+evening to finish saying it.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne, who was lying on her couch, watched with admiring eyes
+the girl's straightforward walk, so alert and business-like, so free
+from fuss and consciousness, and held out her hand with a more
+cordial welcome than she was accustomed to show her visitors.
+
+It was a long room; and as the summer dusk was falling, and there was
+only a shaded lamp beside Mrs. Cheyne, it was full of dim corners.
+Nevertheless, Phillis piloted herself without hesitation to the
+illuminated circle.
+
+"This is good of you, Miss Challoner, to take me at my word. But where
+is your sister? I wanted to look at her again, for it is long since I
+have seen any one so pretty. Miss Mewlstone, this is the good
+Samaritan who bound up my foot so cleverly."
+
+"Ah, just so," returned Miss Mewlstone. And a soft, plump hand touched
+Phillis's, and then she went on picking up stitches and taking no
+further notice.
+
+"Nan could not come," observed Phillis. "She had to run down to Beach
+House to report progress to mother. We hope she is coming home
+to-morrow. But, as you were so kind as to write, I thought I would
+just call and inquire about your foot. And then it would be easier to
+explain things than to write about it."
+
+"Oh! so your mother is coming home!" returned Mrs. Cheyne, with so
+much interest in her voice that Miss Mewlstone left off counting to
+look at her. ("Just so, just so," Phillis heard her mutter.) "You must
+have worked hard to get ready for her so soon. When my foot will allow
+me to cross a room without hobbling, I will do myself the pleasure of
+calling on her. But that will be neither this week nor the next, I am
+afraid. But I shall see a good deal of you and your sister before
+then," she concluded, with the graciousness of one who knows she is
+conferring an unusual honor.
+
+"I do not know," faltered Phillis. And then she sat upright, and
+looked her hostess full in the face. "That will be for you to decide
+when you hear what I have to say. But I fear"--with a very poor
+attempt at a smile--"that we shall see very little of each other in
+the future."
+
+"Oh, there is a mystery, is there?" returned Mrs. Cheyne, with a
+little scorn in her manner; and her mouth took one of the downward
+curves that Mr. Drummond so thoroughly disliked. She had taken an odd
+fancy to these girls, especially to Phillis, and had thought about
+them a good deal during a sleepless, uneasy night. Their simplicity,
+their straightforward unconsciousness, had attracted her in spite of
+her cynicism. But at the first suspicion of mystery she withdrew into
+herself rather haughtily. "Do speak out, I beg, Miss Challoner; for if
+there be one thing that makes me impatient, it is to have anything
+implied."
+
+"I am quite of your opinion," replied Phillis, with equal haughtiness,
+only it sat more strangely on her girlishness. "That is why I am here
+to-night,--just to inquire after your foot and explain things."
+
+"Well?" still more impatiently, for this woman was a spoiled child,
+and hated to be thwarted, and was undisciplined and imperious enough
+to ruin all her own chances of happiness.
+
+"I told you that we were very poor," went on Phillis, in a sweet and
+steady voice; "but that did not seem to impress you much, and I
+thought how noble that was,"--catching her breath an instant; "but it
+will make a difference and shock you dreadfully, as it did Mr.
+Drummond, when I tell you we are dressmakers,--Nan and Dulce and I: at
+least that will be our future occupation."
+
+"Ah, just so!" ejaculated Miss Mewlstone; but she said it with her
+lips far apart, and a mistiness came into her sleepy blue eyes.
+Perhaps, though she was stout and middle-aged and breathed a little
+too heavily at times, she remembered--long ago when she was young and
+poor and had to wage a bitter war with the world--when she ate the dry
+bread and drank the bitter water of dependence and felt herself ill
+nourished by such unpalatable sustenance. "Oh, just so, poor thing!"
+And a little round tear dripped on to the ball of scarlet fleecy
+wool.
+
+But Mrs. Cheyne listened to the announcement in far different mood.
+There was an incredulous stare at Phillis, as though she suspected her
+of a joke; and then she laughed, a dry, harsh laugh, that was not
+quite pleasant to hear.
+
+"Oh, this is droll, passing droll!" she said, and leaned back on her
+cushions, and drew her Indian cashmere round her and frowned a
+little.
+
+"I am glad you find it so," returned Phillis, who was nonplussed at
+this, and did not know what to say, and was a little angry in
+consequence; and then she got up from her chair with a demonstration
+of spirit. "I am glad you find it so; but to us it is sad
+earnestness!"
+
+"What! are you going?" asked Mrs. Cheyne, with a keen glance through
+her half-shut eyes at poor Phillis standing so tall and straight
+before her. "And you have not told me the reason for taking so strange
+a step!"
+
+"The reason lies in our poverty and paucity of resources," was
+Phillis's curt reply.
+
+"It is not to make a sensation, then? no, I did not mean that," as
+Phillis shot an indignant glance at her,--"not exactly; but there is
+no knowing what the emancipated girl will do. Of course I have no
+right to question, who was a stranger to you four-and-twenty hours
+ago, and had never heard the name of Challoner, except that it was a
+good and an old name; but when one sees young things like you about to
+forfeit caste and build up a barrier between yourselves and your
+equals that the bravest will fear to pass, it seems as though one must
+lift up one's voice in protest."
+
+"Thank you; but it will be of no use," returned Phillis, coldly.
+
+"You are determined to make other people's dresses?" And here her lip
+curled a little, perhaps involuntarily.
+
+"We must must make dresses or starve; for our fingers are cleverer
+than our brains," replied Phillis, defiantly; for she knew nothing
+about it, and her powers were so immature and unfledged that she had
+never tried her wings, and had no notion whether she could fly or not,
+and yet no girl had a clearer head. "We have chosen work that we know
+we can do well, and we mean not to be ashamed of our occupation. In
+the old days ladies used to spin and weave, and no one blamed them,
+though they were noble; and if my work will bring me money, and keep
+the mother comfortable, I see nothing that will prevent my doing it."
+
+"Ah, you are romantic, Miss Challoner; you will soon be taught
+matter-of-fact!"
+
+"I am willing to learn anything, but I must choose my teachers,"
+retorted Phillis, with a little heat, for the word "romantic," and the
+satirical droop of Mrs. Cheyne's lip made her decidedly cross. "But I
+must not detain you any more with our uninteresting affairs," dropping
+a little courtesy, half in pique and half in mockery, for her spirits
+were rising under this rough treatment.
+
+"It is far from uninteresting; I have not heard anything so exciting
+for a long time. Well, perhaps you had better go before I say anything
+very rude, for I am terribly outspoken, and I think you are all silly
+self-willed young people." Then, as Phillis bridled her neck like an
+untamed colt, she caught hold of the girl's dress to detain her, and
+the sharpness passed out of her eyes. "Now, don't go away and believe
+that I think any worse of you for telling me this. I am a
+cross-grained body, and contradiction makes me worse. I don't know how
+I shall act: I must have time to consider this extraordinary bit of
+news. But all the same, whatever I do, whether I know you or do not
+know you, I shall always think you the very bravest girl I ever saw."
+And then she let her go, and Phillis, with her head in the air and her
+thoughts all topsy-turvy, marched out of the room.
+
+But when she reached the end of the corridor there was a soft but
+distinctly audible breathing behind her, and, as in Mr. Drummond's
+case Miss Mewlstone's shadowy gray gown swept between her and the
+door.
+
+"Miss Mewlstone, how you startled me! but the carpets are so soft and
+thick!"
+
+"Yes, indeed! just so, my dear; but Phillips must be asleep as he does
+not answer the bell, and so I thought I would let you out. You are
+young to walk alone: shall I throw a shawl over my cap, and walk down
+the road with you?"
+
+"Not for worlds, my dear Miss Mewlstone;" but Phillis was quite
+touched at this unexpected kindness. Miss Mewlstone did not look
+sleepy now; her small blue eyes were wide open, and her round placid
+face wore a most kindly expression, and there was a tremulous movement
+of her hands, as though they were feeling after something. "It is
+only such a little bit of road; and though the trees make it dark, I
+am not the least afraid of going alone."
+
+"Ah! just so. When we are young, we are brave; it is the old who are
+afraid of the grasshopper. I like your spirit, my dear; and so does
+she, though she is a little taken aback and disappointed; but anything
+that interests and rouses her is welcome. Even this may do her good;
+for it will give her something to think about besides her own
+troubles."
+
+"I have heard of her troubles----" began Phillis; but a moving door
+arrested Miss Mewlstone's attention, and she interrupted her
+hurriedly:
+
+"Ah! there is Phillips at last. Just so; you shall hear from me again.
+It is a gray satin,--one of her presents,--but I have never had it
+made up; for what is the use, when we keep no company?" went on Miss
+Mewlstone incoherently. "Oh! is that you, Phillips? Please go with
+this young lady to the lodge-gate.--You shall make it after your own
+fashion," she whispered in Phillis's ear; "and I am not as particular
+as other people. There is Magdalene now. Ah! just so. Good-night, my
+dear; and mind the scraper by the gate."
+
+Phillis was almost sorry when the obsequious Phillips left her; for
+the road certainly looked terribly dark. There was no moon, and the
+stars chose to be invisible; and there was a hot thundery feeling in
+the air that suggested a storm. And she moved aside with a slight
+sensation of uneasiness--not fear, of course not fear--as a tall,
+gloomy-looking figure bore swiftly down on her; for, even if a girl be
+ever so brave, a very tall man walking fast on a dark night with a
+slouching hat like a conspirator's is rather a terrifying object; and
+how could she know that it was only Archie Drummond in his old
+garden-hat, taking a constitutional?
+
+But he brought himself up in front of her with a sudden jerk.
+
+"Miss Challoner!--alone at this time of night!"
+
+"Why, it is not ten; and I could not wait for Dorothy to fetch me,"
+returned Phillis, bound to defend herself, and quite palpitating with
+relief; not that she was afraid--not a bit of it!--but still, Mr.
+Drummond's presence was very welcome.
+
+"I suppose I shall do as well as Dorothy?" he returned veering round
+with the greatest ease, just as though he were Dick, and bound to
+escort a Challoner. "Challoners' Squire,"--that was Dick's name among
+people.
+
+"Oh poor Dick!" thought Phillis, with a sudden rush of tenderness for
+her old playmate; and then she said, demurely but with a spice of
+malice,--
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Drummond. The road is so gloomy that I shall be glad
+of your escort this evening, but we shall have to do without that sort
+of thing now, for our business may often bring us out after dark, and
+we must learn not to be too particular."
+
+"Oh, this must not be!" he returned, decidedly; and, though it was too
+dark to see his face, she knew by his voice that he was dreadfully
+shocked. "I must see your mother and talk to her about this; for it
+would never do for you to run such risks. I could not allow it for a
+moment; and as your clergyman"--coming down from his high horse, and
+stammering a little,--"I have surely--surely a right----" But Phillis
+snapped him up in a moment, and pretty sharply too, for she had no
+notion of a young man giving himself airs and torturing her.
+
+"Oh, no right at all!" she assured him: "clergymen could only rebuke
+evil-doers, to which class she and her sisters did not belong, thank
+heaven!" to which Mr. Drummond devoutly said an "amen." "And would he
+please tell her if dressmakers were always met two and two, like the
+animals in the ark? and how would it sound when she or Nan had been
+fitting on a dress, on a winter's evening, if they were to refuse to
+leave the house until Dorothy fetched them? and how----" But here Mr.
+Drummond checked her, and the darkness hid his smile.
+
+"Now you are beyond me, Miss Challoner. In a matter of detail, a man,
+even a parson, is often at fault. Is there no other way of managing
+this odious business? Forgive me; the word slipped out by accident!
+Could you not do the fitting, or whatever you call it, by daylight,
+and stay at home quietly in the evening like other young ladies?"
+
+"Of course not," returned Phillis, promptly. She had not the least
+idea why it could not be done; indeed, if she had been perfectly
+cool--which she was not, for Mrs. Cheyne had decidedly stroked her the
+wrong way and ruffled her past endurance--she would have appreciated
+the temperate counsel vouchsafed her, and acquiesced in it without a
+murmur; but now she seemed bent on contradiction.
+
+"Our opinions seem to clash to-night," returned Mr. Drummond,
+good-humoredly, but feeling that the young lady beside him had
+decidedly a will of her own. "She is very nice, but she is not as
+gentle as her sister," he said to himself; which was hard on Phillis,
+who, though she was not meek, being a girl of spirit, was wholesomely
+sweet and sound to the heart's core.
+
+"One may be supposed to know one's business best," she replied rather
+dryly to this. And then, fearing that she might seem ungracious to a
+stranger, who did not know her and her little ways, she went on in a
+more cordial tone: "I am afraid you think me a little cross to-night;
+but I have been having a stand-up fight, and am rather tired. Trying
+to battle against other people's prejudices makes one irritable. And
+then, because I am down and out of heart about things, our clergyman
+thinks fit to lecture me on propriety."
+
+"Only for your good. You must forgive me if I have taken too much upon
+myself," returned Mr. Drummond, with much compunction. "You seem so
+lonely,--no father or brother; at least--pardon me--I believe you have
+no brother?"
+
+"Oh, no; we have no brother," sighed Phillis. Their acquaintance was
+in too early a stage to warrant her in bringing in Dick's name.
+Besides, that sort of heterogeneous relationship is so easily
+misconstrued. And then she added, "I see. You meant to be very kind,
+and I was very ungrateful."
+
+"I only wish I could find some way of helping you all," was his reply
+to this. But it was said with such frank kindness that Phillis's brief
+haughtiness vanished. They were standing at the gate of the Friary by
+this time; but Mr. Drummond still lingered. It was Phillis who
+dismissed him.
+
+"Good-night, and many thanks," she said, brightly. "It is too late to
+ask you in, for you see, even dressmakers have their notions of
+propriety." And as she uttered this malicious little speech, the young
+man broke into a laugh that was heard by Dorothy in her little
+kitchen.
+
+"Oh, that is too bad of you, Miss Challoner," he said, as soon as he
+recovered himself; but, nevertheless, he liked the girl better for her
+little joke.
+
+Mr. Drummond's constitutional had lasted so long that Mattie grew
+quite frightened, and came down in her drab dressing-gown to wait for
+him. It was not a becoming costume, but it was warm and comfortable;
+but then Mattie never considered what became her. If any one had
+admired her, or cared how she looked or what she wore, or had taken an
+interest in her for her own sake, she would doubtless have developed
+an honest liking for pretty things. But what did it matter under the
+present circumstances? Mr. Drummond was lighting his chamber candle
+when Mattie rushed out on him,--a grotesque little figure, all capes
+and frills.
+
+"Oh, Archie, how you frightened me! Where have you been?"
+
+Archie shrugged his shoulders at this.
+
+"I am not aware, Matilda,"--for in severe moods he would call her by
+her full name, a thing she especially disliked from him,--"I did not
+know before that I was accountable to you for my actions. Neither am I
+particularly obliged to you for spying upon me in this way." For the
+sight of Mattie at this time of night was peculiarly distasteful. Why
+was he to be watched in his own house?
+
+"Oh, dear, Archie! How can you say such things? Spy on you, indeed!
+when there is a storm coming up, and I was so anxious."
+
+"I am very much obliged to you," returned Archie, ironically; "but, as
+you see I am safe, don't you think you had better take off that
+thing"--pointing to the obnoxious garment--"and go to bed?" And such
+was his tone that poor Mattie fled without a word, and cried a little
+in her dark room, because Archie would not be kind to her and let her
+love him, but was always finding fault with one trifle or other.
+To-night it was her poor old dressing-gown, which had been her
+mother's, and had been considered good enough for Mattie. And then he
+had called her a spy. And here she gave a sob that caught Archie's
+ears as he passed her door.
+
+"Good-night, you little goose!" he called out, for the sound made him
+uncomfortable; and though the words were contemptuous, the voice was
+not, and Mattie at once dried her eyes and was comforted.
+
+But before Archie went to sleep that night he made up his mind that it
+was his duty as a clergyman and a Christian to look over Phillis's
+wilfulness, and to befriend to the utmost of his power the strangers,
+widow and fatherless, that Providence had placed at his very gates.
+
+"They are so very lonely, poor things!" he said to himself; "not a
+man about them. By the bye, I noticed she did not wear an
+engagement-ring." But which was the "she" he meant, was an enigma
+known only to himself. "Not a man about them!" he repeated, in a
+satisfied manner, for as yet the name of Dick had not sounded in his
+ear.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+BREAKING THE PEACE.
+
+
+Nan went to Beach House to fetch her mother home, escorted by Laddie,
+who was growing a most rollicking and friendly little animal, and a
+great consolation to his mistress, whom he loved with all his doggish
+heart.
+
+They all three came back in an old fly belonging to their late host,
+and found Phillis waiting for them on the door-step, who made her
+mother the following little speech:
+
+"Now, mammie, you are to kiss us, and tell us what good industrious
+girls we have been; and then you are to shut your eyes and look at
+nothing, and then sit down in your old arm-chair, and try and make the
+best of everything."
+
+"Welcome home, dearest mother," said Nan, softly kissing her. "Home is
+home, however poor it may be; and thank God for it," finished the
+girl, reverently.
+
+"Oh, my darlings!" exclaimed the poor mother; and then she cried a
+little, and Dulce came up and put a rose-bud in her hand; and Dorothy
+executed an old-fashioned courtsey, and hoped that her mistress and
+the dear young ladies would try and make themselves as happy as
+possible.
+
+"Happy, you silly old Dorothy! of course we mean to be as busy as
+bees, and as frolicsome as kittens!" returned Phillis, who had
+recovered her old sprightliness, and was ready to-day for a dozen Mrs.
+Cheynes and all the clergy of the diocese. "Now, mammie, you are only
+to peep into this room: this is our work-room, and those are the
+curtains Mr. Drummond was kind enough to hang. In old days," continued
+Phillis, with mock solemnity, "the parson would have pronounced a
+benediction; but the modern Anglican performs another function, and
+with much gravity ascends the steps, and hooks up the curtains of the
+new-comers."
+
+"Oh, Phillis, how can you be so absurd! I am sure it was very
+good-natured of him. Come, mother, dear, we will not stand here
+listening to her nonsense." And Nan drew the mother to the parlor.
+
+It was a very small room, but still snug and comfortable, and full of
+pretty things. Tea was laid on the little round table that would
+hardly hold five, as Nan once observed, thinking of Dick; and the
+evening's sunshine was stealing in, but not too obtrusively. Mrs.
+Challoner tried not to think it dull, and endeavored to say a word of
+praise at the arrangements Dulce pointed out to her; but the thought
+of Glen Cottage, and her pretty drawing-room, and the veranda with its
+climbing roses, and the shady lawn with the seat under the
+acacia-trees, almost overpowered her. That they should come to this!
+That they should be sitting in this mean little parlor, where there
+was hardly room to move, looking out at the little strip of grass, and
+the medlar-tree, and the empty greenhouse! Nan saw her mother's lip
+quiver, and adroitly turned the subject to their neighbors. She had so
+much to say about Mr. Drummond and his sister that Mrs. Challoner grew
+quite interested; nevertheless, it was a surprise even to Nan when
+Dorothy presently opened the door, and Mr. Drummond coolly walked in
+with a magnificent basket of roses in his hand.
+
+Nan gravely introduced him to her mother, and the young man accosted
+her; but there was a little surprise on his face. He had taken it into
+his head that Mrs. Challoner would be a far older-looking and more
+homely person; but the stately-looking woman before him might have
+been an older and faded edition of Nan. Somehow, her appearance
+confused him; and he commenced with an apology for his intrusion:
+
+"I ought not to have been so unceremonious. I am afraid, as you have
+just arrived, my visit will seem an intrusion; but my sister thought
+you would like some of our roses,"--he had obliged poor Mattie to say
+so,--"and, as we had cut some fine ones, we thought you ought to have
+them while they are fresh."
+
+"Thank you; this is very kind and neighborly," returned Mrs.
+Challoner; but, though her tone was perfectly civil, Nan thought her
+manner a little cold, and hastened to interpose with a few glowing
+words of admiration.
+
+"The roses were lovely; they were finer than those at Longmead, or
+even at Fitzroy Lodge, though Lady Fitzroy prided herself on her
+roses." Archie pricked up his ears at this latter name, which escaped
+quite involuntarily from Nan. "And was it not good of Miss Drummond to
+spare them so many, and of Mr. Drummond to carry them?" all of which
+Nan said with a sweet graciousness that healed the young man's
+embarrassment in a moment.
+
+"Yes, indeed!" echoed Mrs. Challoner, obedient, as usual, to her
+daughter's lead. "And you must thank your sister, Mr. Drummond, and
+tell her how fond my girls are of flowers." But, though Mrs. Challoner
+said this, the roses were not without thorns for her. Why had not Miss
+Drummond brought them herself? She was pleased indeed that, under
+existing circumstances, any one should be civil to her girls; but was
+there not a little patronage intended? She was not quite sure that she
+rejoiced in having such neighbors. Mr. Drummond was nice and
+gentlemanly, but he was far too young and handsome for an unmarried
+clergyman; at least, that was her old-fashioned opinion; and when one
+has three very good-looking daughters, and dreads the idea of losing
+one, one may be pardoned for distrusting even a basket of roses.
+
+If Mr. Drummond perceived her slight coldness, he seemed quite
+determined to overcome it. He took small notice of Nan, who busied
+herself at once arranging the flowers under his eyes; even Phillis,
+who looked good and demure this evening, failed to obtain a word. He
+talked almost exclusively to Mrs. Challoner, plying her with artful
+questions about their old home, which he now learned was at Oldfield,
+and gaining scraps of information that enabled him to obtain a pretty
+clear insight into their present circumstances.
+
+Mrs. Challoner, who was a soft hearted woman, was not proof against so
+much sympathy. She perceived that Mr. Drummond was sorry for them, and
+she began to warm a little towards him. His manner was so respectful,
+his words so discreet; and then he behaved so nicely, taking no notice
+of the girls, though Nan was looking so pretty, but just talking to
+her in a grave responsible way, as though he were a gray-haired man of
+sixty.
+
+Phillis was not quite sure she approved of it: in the old days she had
+never been so excluded from conversation: she would have liked a word
+now and then. But Nan sat by quite contented: it pleased her to see
+her mother roused and interested.
+
+When Mr. Drummond took his leave, she accompanied him to the door, and
+thanked him quite warmly.
+
+"You have done her so much good, for this first evening is such a
+trial to her, poor thing!" said Nan, lifting her lovely eyes to the
+young man's face.
+
+"I am so glad! I will come again," he said, rather incoherently. And
+as he went out of the green door he told himself that it was his clear
+duty to befriend this interesting family. He ought to have gone home
+and written to Grace, for it was long past the time when she always
+expected to hear from him. But the last day or two he had rather
+shirked this duty. It would be difficult to explain to Grace. She
+might be rather shocked, for she was a little prim in such things,
+being her mother's daughter. He thought he would ask Mattie to tell
+her about the Challoners, and that he was busy and would write soon;
+and when he had made up his mind to this, he went down to the
+sea-shore and amused himself by sitting on a breakwater and staring at
+the fishing-smacks,--which of course showed how very busy he was.
+
+"I think I shall like Mr. Drummond," observed Mrs. Challoner, in a
+tolerant tone, when Nan had accompanied the young vicar to the door.
+"He seems an earnest, good sort of young man."
+
+"Yes, mammie dear. And I am sure he has fallen in love with you,"
+returned Phillis, naughtily, "for he talked to no one else. And you
+are so young-looking and pretty that of course no one could be
+surprised if he did." But though Mrs. Challoner said, "Oh, Phillis!"
+and looked dreadfully shocked in a proper matronly way, what was the
+use of that, when the mischievous girl burst out laughing in her
+face?
+
+But the interruption had done them all good, and the evening passed
+less heavily than they had dared to hope. And when Mrs. Challoner
+complained of fatigue and retired early, escorted by Dorothy, who was
+dying for a chat with her mistress, the three girls went out in the
+garden, and walked, after their old fashion, arm in arm up and down
+the lawn, with Nan in the middle; though Dulce pouted and pretended
+that the lawn was too narrow, and that Phillis was pushing her on the
+gravel path.
+
+Their mother's window was open, and they could have heard snatches of
+Dorothy's conversation if they had chosen to listen. Dulce stood still
+a moment, and wafted a little kiss towards her mother's room.
+
+"Dear old mamsie! She has been very good this evening, has she not,
+Nan? She has only cried the least wee bit, when you kissed her."
+
+"Yes, indeed. And somebody else has been good too. What do you say,
+Phillis? Has not Dulce been the best child possible?"
+
+"Oh, Nan, I should be ashamed to be otherwise," returned Dulce, in
+such an earnest manner that it made her sisters laugh, "Do you think I
+could see you both so good and cheerful, making the best of things,
+and never complaining, even when the tears are in your eyes,--as yours
+are often, Nan, when you think no one is looking,--and not try and
+copy your example? I am dreadfully proud of you both,--that is what I
+am," continued the warm-hearted girl. "I never knew before what was in
+my sisters. And now I feel as though I want the whole world to come
+and admire my Phillis and Nan!"
+
+"Little flatterer!" but Nan squeezed Dulce's arm affectionately. And
+Phillis said, in a joking tone,--
+
+"Ah, it was not half so bad. This evening there was mother looking so
+dear and pretty: and there were you girls; and, though the nest is
+small, it feels warm and cosy. And if we could only forget Glen
+Cottage, and leave off missing the old faces, which I never shall--"
+("Nor I," echoed Nan, with a deep sigh, fetched from somewhere)--"and
+root ourselves afresh, we should contrive not to be unhappy."
+
+"I think it is our duty to cultivate cheerfulness," added Nan,
+seriously; and after this they fell to a discussion on ways and means.
+As usual, Phillis was chief spokeswoman, but to Nan belonged the
+privilege of the casting vote.
+
+The next few days were weary ones to Mrs. Challoner: there was still
+much to be done before the Friary could be pronounced in order. The
+girls spent most of the daylight hours unpacking boxes, sorting and
+arranging their treasures, and, if the truth must be told, helping
+Dorothy to polish furniture and wash glass and china.
+
+Mrs. Challoner, who was not strong enough for these household labors,
+found herself condemned to hem new dusters and mend old table-linen,
+to the tune of her own sad thoughts. Mr. Drummond found her sorting a
+little heap on the parlor table when he dropped in casually one
+morning,--this time with some very fine cherries that his sister
+thought Mrs. Challoner would enjoy.
+
+When Mr. Drummond began his little speech he could have sworn that
+there were tears on the poor lady's cheeks; but when he had finished
+she looked up at him with a smile, and thanked him warmly, and then
+they had quite a nice chat together.
+
+Mr. Drummond's visit was quite a godsend, she told him, for her girls
+were busy and had no time to talk to her; and "one's thoughts are not
+always pleasant companions," she added, with a sigh. And Mr. Drummond,
+who had caught sight of the tears, was at once sympathetic, and
+expressed himself in such feeling terms--for he was more at ease in
+the girls' absence--that Mrs. Challoner opened out in the most
+confiding way, and told him a great deal that he had been anxious to
+learn.
+
+But she soon found out, to her dismay, that he disapproved of her
+girls' plans; for he told her so at once, and in the coolest manner.
+The opportunity for airing his views on the subject was far too good
+to be lost. Mrs. Challoner was alone; she was in a low, dejected mood;
+the rulers of the household were gathered in an upper chamber. What
+would Phillis have said, as she warbled a rather flat accompaniment to
+Nan's "Bonnie Dundee," which she was singing to keep up their spirits
+over a piece of hard work, if she had known that Mr. Drummond was at
+that moment in possession of her mother's ear?
+
+"Oh, Mr. Drummond, this is very sad, if every one should think as you
+do about my poor girls! and Phillis does so object to being called
+romantic;" for he had hinted in a gentlemanly way that he thought the
+whole scheme was crude and girlish and quixotic to a degree.
+
+"I hope you will not tell her, then," returned Mr. Drummond in a
+soothing tone, for Mrs. Challoner was beginning to look agitated. "I
+am afraid nothing I say will induce Miss Challoner to give up her pet
+scheme; but I felt, as your clergyman, it was my duty to let you know
+my opinion." And here Archie looked so very solemn that Mrs.
+Challoner, being a weak woman, and apt to overvalue the least
+expression of masculine opinion, grew more and more alarmed.
+
+"Oh, yes!" she faltered; "it is very good--very nice of you to tell me
+this." Phillis would have laughed in his face and Mrs. Cheyne would
+have found something to say about his youth; but in Mrs. Challoner's
+eyes, though she was an older woman, Archie's solemnity and Oriental
+beard carried tremendous weight with them. He might be young,
+nevertheless she was bound to listen meekly to him, and to respect his
+counsel as one who had a certain authority over her. "Oh, you are very
+good! and if only my girls had not made up their minds so quickly! but
+now what can I do but feel very uncomfortable after you have told me
+this?"
+
+"Oh, as to that, there is always time for everything; it is never too
+late to mend," returned Mr. Drummond, tritely. "I meant from the first
+to tell you what I thought, if I should ever have an opportunity of
+speaking to you alone. You see, we Oxford men have our own notions
+about things: we do not always go with the tide. If your daughters--"
+here he hesitated and grew red, for he was a modest, honest young
+fellow in the main--"pardon me, but I am only proposing an
+hypothesis--if they wanted to make a sensation and get themselves
+talked about, no doubt they would achieve a success, for the
+novelty----" But here he stopped, reduced to silence by the shocked
+expression of Mrs. Challoner's face.
+
+"Mr. Drummond! my girls--make a sensation--be talked about?" she
+gasped; and all the spirit of her virtuous matronhood, and all the
+instinctive feeling that years of culture and ingrained refinement of
+nature had engendered, shone in her eyes. Her Nan and Phillis and
+Dulce to draw this on themselves!
+
+Now, at this unlucky moment, when the maternal fires were all alight,
+who should enter but Phillis, wanting "pins, and dozens of
+them,--quickly, please," and still warbling flatly that refrain of
+"Bonnie Dundee!"
+
+"Oh, Phillis! Oh, my darling child!" cried Mrs. Challoner, quite
+hysterically; "do you know what your clergyman says? and if he should
+say such things, what will be the world's opinion? No, Mr. Drummond, I
+did not mean to be angry. Of course you are telling us this for our
+good; but I do not know when I have been so shocked."
+
+"Why, what is this?" demanded Phillis, calmly; but she fixed her eyes
+on the unlucky clergyman, who began to wish that that last speech had
+not been uttered.
+
+"He says it is to make a sensation--to be talked about--that you are
+going to do this," gasped Mrs. Challoner, who was far too much upset
+to weigh words truly.
+
+"What!" Phillis only uttered that very unmeaning monosyllable:
+nevertheless, Archie jumped from his seat as though he had been shot.
+
+"Mrs. Challoner, really this is too bad! No, you must allow me to
+explain," as Phillis turned aside with a curling lip, as though she
+would leave them. He actually went between her and the door, as though
+he meant to prevent her egress forcibly. There is no knowing to what
+lengths he would have gone in his sudden agitation. "Only wait a
+moment, until I explain myself. Your mother has misunderstood me
+altogether. Never has such a thought entered my mind!"
+
+"Oh," observed Phillis. But now she stood still and began to collect
+her pins out of her mother's basket. "Perhaps, as this is rather
+unpleasant, you will have the kindness to tell me what it was you said
+to my mother?" And she spoke like a young princess who had just
+received an insult.
+
+"I desire nothing more," returned Archie, determined to defend himself
+at all costs. "I had been speaking to Mrs. Challoner about all this
+unfortunate business. She was good enough to repose confidence in me,
+and, as your clergyman, I felt myself bound to tell her exactly my
+opinions on the subject."
+
+"I do not quite see the necessity; but no doubt you know best," was
+Phillis's somewhat sarcastic answer.
+
+"At least, I did it for the best," returned the young man, humbly. "I
+pointed out things to Mrs. Challoner, as I told you I should. I warned
+her what the world would say,--that it would regard your plan as very
+singular and perhaps quixotic. Surely there is nothing in this to
+offend you?"
+
+"You have not touched on the worst part of all," returned Phillis,
+with a little disdain in her voice. "About making a sensation, I
+mean."
+
+"There it was that your mother so entirely misunderstood. What I said
+was this: If this dressmaking scheme were undertaken just to make a
+sensation, it would of course, achieve success, for I thought the
+novelty might take. And then I added that I was merely stating an
+hypothesis by way of argument, and then Mrs. Challoner looked shocked,
+and you came in."
+
+"Is that all?" asked Phillis, coming down from her stilts at once, for
+she knew of old how her mother would confuse things sometimes; and, if
+this were the truth, she, Phillis, had been rather too hard on him.
+
+"Yes. Do you see now any necessity for quarrelling with me?" returned
+Mr. Drummond, breathing a little more freely as the frown lessened on
+Phillis's face. He wanted to be friends with these girls, not to turn
+them against him.
+
+"Well, no, I believe not," she answered, quite gravely. "And I am sure
+I beg your pardon if I was rude." But this Archie would not allow for
+a moment.
+
+"But, Mr. Drummond, one word before peace is quite restored," went on
+Phillis, with something of her old archness, "or else I will fetch my
+sisters, and you will have three of us against you."
+
+"Oh, do, Phillis, my dear," interrupted her mother; "let them come and
+hear what Mr. Drummond thinks."
+
+"Mammy, how dare you!--how dare you be so contumacious, after all the
+trouble we have taken to set your dear fidgety mind at rest? Just look
+what you have done, Mr. Drummond," turning upon him. "Now I am not
+going to forgive you, and we will not trust the mother out of our
+sight, unless you promise not to say this sort of thing to her when we
+are not here to answer them."
+
+"But, Miss Challoner, my pastoral conscience!" but his eyes twinkled a
+little.
+
+"Oh, never mind that!" she retorted, mischievously. "I will give you
+leave to lecture us collectively, but not individually: that must not
+be thought about for a moment." She had not a notion what the queer
+expression on Mr. Drummond's face meant, and he did not know himself;
+but he had the strongest desire to laugh at this.
+
+They parted after this the best of friends; and Phillis tasted the
+cherries, and pronounced them very good.
+
+"You have quite forgiven me?" Mr. Drummond said, as she accompanied
+him to the door before rejoining her sisters. "You know I have
+promised not to do it again until the next time."
+
+"Oh, we shall see about that!" returned Phillis, good-humoredly.
+"Forewarned is forearmed; and there is a triple alliance against
+you."
+
+"Good heavens, what mockery it seems! I never saw such girls,--never!"
+thought Mr. Drummond, as he took long strides down the road. "But
+Mattie is right: they mean business, and nothing in the world would
+change that girl's determination if she had set herself to carry a
+thing out. I never knew a stronger will!" And in this he was tolerably
+right.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+"TRIMMINGS, NOT SQUAILS."
+
+
+The longest week must have an end; and so at last the eventful Monday
+morning arrived,--"Black Monday," as Dulce called it, and then sighed
+as she looked out on the sunshine and the waving trees, and thought
+how delicious a long walk or a game of tennis would be, instead of
+stitch, stitch, stitching all day. But Dulce was an unselfish little
+soul, and kept all these thoughts to herself, and dressed herself
+quickly; for she had overslept herself, and Phillis had long been
+downstairs.
+
+Nan was locking up the tea-caddy as she entered the parlor, and
+Phillis was standing by the table, drawing on her gloves, and her lips
+were twitching a little,--a way they had when Phillis was nervous.
+
+Nan went up and kissed her, and gave her an encouraging pat.
+
+"This is for luck, my dear; and mind you make the best of poor Miss
+Milner's dumpy, roundabout little figure. There I have put the
+body-lining, and the measuring-tape, and a paper of pins in this
+little black bag; and I have not forgotten the scissors,--oh, dear,
+no! I have not forgotten the scissors," went on Nan, with such
+surprising cheerfulness that Phillis saw through it, and was down on
+her in a moment.
+
+"No, Nan; there! I declare I will not be such a goose. I am not
+nervous,--not one bit; it is pure fun, that's what it is. Dulce, what
+a naughty child you are to oversleep yourself this morning, and I had
+not the heart to wake you, you looked so like a baby: and we never
+wake babies because they are sure to squall!"
+
+"Oh, Phil, are you going to Miss Milner's? I would have walked with
+you if I had had my breakfast; but I am so hungry."
+
+"I could not possibly wait," returned Phillis; "punctuality is one of
+the first duties of--hem!--dressmakers; all orders executed promptly,
+and promises performed with undeviating regularity: those are my
+maxims. Eat a good breakfast, and then see if mammy wants any help,
+for Nan must be ready for me at the work-table, for she is our head
+cutter-out." And then Phillis nodded briskly, and walked away.
+
+By a singular chance, Mr. Drummond was watering his ferns in the front
+court as Phillis passed, and in spite of her reluctance, for somehow
+he was the last person she wanted to encounter that day, she was
+obliged to wish him good-morning.
+
+"Good-morning! Yes, indeed, it is a glorious morning," observed
+Archie, brightly. "And may I ask where you are going so early?"
+
+"Only to the Library," returned Phillis, laconically; but the color
+mounted to her forehead. "We begin business to-day."
+
+And then Archie took up his watering-pot and refrained from any more
+questions. It was absurd, perhaps, but at the moment he had forgotten,
+and the remembrance was not pleasing.
+
+Phillis felt quite brave after this, and walked into the Library as
+though the place belonged to her. When it came to details, Miss Milner
+was far more nervous than she.
+
+She would keep apologizing to Phillis for making her stand so long,
+and she wanted to hold the pins and to pick up the scissors that
+Phillis had dropped; and when the young dressmaker consulted her about
+the trimmings, she was far too humble to intrude her opinions.
+
+"Anything you think best, Miss Challoner, for you have such beautiful
+taste as never was seen; and I am sure the way you have fitted that
+body-lining is just wonderful, and would be a lesson to Miss Slasher
+for life. No, don't put the pins in your mouth, there's a dear."
+
+For, in her intense zeal, Phillis had thought herself bound to follow
+the manner of Mrs. Sloper, the village factotum, and she always did
+so, though Nan afterwards assured her that it was not necessary, and
+that in this particular they might be allowed to deviate from
+example.
+
+But she was quite proud of herself when she had finished, for the
+material seemed to mould under her fingers in the most marvellous way,
+and she knew the fit would be perfect. She wanted to rush off at once
+and set to work with Nan; but Miss Milner would not let her off so
+easily. There was orange wine and seed-cake of her own making in the
+back parlor, and she had just one question--a very little question--to
+ask. And here Miss Milner coughed a little behind her hand to gain
+time and recover her courage.
+
+"The little papers were about the shop, and Mrs. Trimmings saw one,
+and--and----" Here Phillis came promptly to her relief.
+
+"And Mrs. Trimmings wants to order a dress, does she?" And Phillis
+bravely kept down the sudden sinking of heart at the news.
+
+Mrs. Trimmings was the butcher's wife,--the sister of that very Mrs.
+Squails of whom Dulce once made mention,--well known to be the
+dressiest woman in Hadleigh, who was much given to imitate her
+betters. The newest fashions, the best materials, were always to be
+found on Mrs. Trimmings's portly figure.
+
+"What could I do?" observed Miss Milner, apologetically: "the papers
+were about the shop, and what does the woman do but take one up? 'I
+wonder what sort of dressmakers these are?' she said, careless-like;
+'there is my new blue silk that Andrew brought himself from London
+and paid five-and-sixpence a yard for in St. Paul's Churchyard; and I
+daren't let Miss Slasher have it, for she made such a mess of that
+French merino. She had to let it out at every seam before I could get
+into it, and it is so tight for me now that I shall be obliged to cut
+it up for Mary Anne. I wonder if I dare try these new people?"
+
+"And what did you say, Miss Milner?"
+
+"What could I do then, my dear young lady, but speak up and say the
+best I could for you? for though Mrs. Trimmings is not high,--not one
+of the gentry, I mean,--and has a rough tongue sometimes, still she
+knows what good stuff and good cutting-out means, and a word from her
+might do you a power of good among the townfolks, for her gowns are
+always after the best patterns."
+
+"All right!" returned Phillis, cheerfully: "one must creep before one
+runs, and, until the gentry employ us, we ought to think ourselves
+fortunate to work for the townpeople. I am not a bit above making a
+dress for Mrs. Trimmings, though I would rather make one for you, Miss
+Milner, because you have been so kind to us."
+
+"There, now! didn't I say there never were such young ladies!"
+exclaimed Miss Milner, quite affected at this. "Well, if you are sure
+you don't mind, Miss Challoner dear, will you please go to Mrs.
+Trimmings's this morning? for though I told her my dress was to be
+finished first, still Trimmings's isn't a stone's-throw from here; and
+you may as well settle a thing when you are about it."
+
+"And I will take the silk, Miss Milner, if you will kindly let me have
+a nice piece of brown paper."
+
+"Indeed and you will do no such thing, Miss Challoner; and there is
+Joseph going down with the papers to Mr. Drummond's, and will leave it
+at the Friary as he passes."
+
+"Oh, thank you," observed Phillis, gratefully. "Then I will pencil a
+word to my sister, to let her know why I am detained." And she
+scrawled a line to Nan:
+
+"Trimmings, not Squails: here beginneth the first chapter. Expect me
+when you see me, and do nothing until I come."
+
+There was no side-door at Trimmings's, and Mrs. Trimmings was at the
+desk, jotting down legs of mutton, and entries of gravy-beef and suet,
+with a rapidity that would have tried the brain of any other woman
+than a butcher's wife.
+
+When Phillis approached, she looked up at her suavely, expecting
+custom.
+
+"Just half a moment, ma'am," she said, civilly. "Yes, Joe, wing-rib
+and half of suet to Mrs. Penfold, and a loin of lamb and sweet-bread
+for No. 12, Albert Terrace. Now, ma'am, what can I do for you?"
+
+"I have only come about your dress, Mrs. Trimmings," returned Phillis,
+in a very small voice; and then she tried not to laugh, as Mrs.
+Trimmings regarded her with a broad stare of astonishment, which took
+her in comprehensively, hat, dress, and neat dogskin gloves.
+
+"You might have taken up my pen and knocked me down with it," was Mrs.
+Trimmings's graphic description of her feelings afterwards, as she
+carved a remarkably fine loin of veal, with a knuckle of ham and some
+kidney-beans to go with it. "There was the colonel standing by the
+desk, Andrew; and he turned right round and looked at us both. 'I've
+come about your dress, Mrs. Trimmings,' she said, as pertlike as
+possible. Law, I thought I should have dropped, I was that taken
+aback."
+
+Phillis's feelings were none of the pleasantest when Colonel Middleton
+turned round and looked at her. There was an expression almost of
+sorrow in the old man's eyes, as he so regarded her, which made her
+feel hot and uncomfortable. It was a relief when Mrs. Trimmings roused
+from her stupefaction and bustled out of the desk.
+
+"This way, miss," she said, with a jerk of her comely head. But her
+tone changed a little, and became at once sharp and familiar. "I hope
+you understand your business, for I never could abide waste; and the
+way Miss Slasher cut into that gray merino,--and it only just meets,
+so to say,--and the breadths are as scanty as possible; and it would
+go to my heart to have a beautiful piece of silk spoiled,
+flve-and-sixpence a yard, and not a flaw in it."
+
+"If I thought I should spoil your dress I would not undertake it,"
+returned Phillis, gently. She felt she must keep herself perfectly
+quiet with this sort of people. "My sister and I have just made up
+some very pretty silk and cashmere costumes, and they fitted as
+perfectly as possible."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" observed Mrs. Trimmings, in a patronizing tone. She had
+no idea that the costumes of which Phillis spoke had been worn by the
+young dressmakers at one of Lady Fitzroy's afternoon parties. She was
+not quite at her ease with Phillis; she thought her a little
+high-and-mighty in her manner. "A uppish young person," as she said
+afterwards; "but her grand airs made no sort of difference to me, I
+can assure you."
+
+There was no holding pins or picking up scissors in this case. On the
+contrary, Mrs. Trimmings watched with a vigilant eye, and was ready to
+pounce on Phillis at the least mistake or oversight, seeing which
+Phillis grew cooler and more off-hand every moment. There was a great
+deal of haggling over the cut of the sleeve and arrangement of the
+drapery. "If you will kindly leave it to me," Phillis said once; but
+nothing was further from Mrs. Trimmings's intention. She had not a
+silk dress every day. And she had always been accustomed to settle all
+these points herself, while Miss Slasher had stood by humbly turning
+over the pages of her fashion-books, and calling her, at every
+sentence, "Ma'am," a word that Phillis's lips had not yet uttered.
+Phillis's patience was almost tired out, when she was at last allowed
+to depart with a large brown-paper parcel under her arm. Mrs.
+Trimmings would have wrapped it up in newspaper, but Phillis had so
+curtly refused to have anything but brown paper that her manner rather
+overawed the woman.
+
+Poor Phillis! Yes, it had really come to pass, and here she was,
+actually walking through Hadleigh in the busiest time of the day, with
+a large, ugly-looking parcel and a little black bag! She had thought
+of sending Dorothy for the dress, but she knew what a trial it would
+have been to the old woman to see one of her young ladies reduced to
+this, and she preferred ladening herself to hurting the poor old
+creature's feelings. So she walked out bravely in her best style. But
+nevertheless her shapely neck would turn itself now and then from side
+to side, as though in dread of some familiar face. And there were
+little pin-pricks all over her of irritation and mortified self-love.
+"A thing is all very well in theory, but it may be tough in practice,"
+she said to herself. And she felt an irresistible desire to return the
+offending dress to that odious Trimmings and tell her she would have
+nothing to do with her,--"a disagreeable old cat," I am afraid Phillis
+called her, for one is not always charitable and civil-spoken in one's
+thoughts.
+
+"We are going the same way. May I carry that formidable-looking parcel
+for you?" asked a voice that was certainly becoming very familiar.
+
+Poor Phillis started and blushed; but she looked more annoyed than
+pleased at the rencontre.
+
+"Mr. Drummond, are you omnipresent?--one is forever encountering you!"
+she said, quite pettishly; but, when Archie only laughed, and tried to
+obtain possession of the parcel, she resisted, and would have none of
+his assistance.
+
+"Oh, dear, no!" she said: "I could not think of such a thing! Fancy
+the vicar of Hadleigh condescending to carry home Mrs. Trimmings's
+dress!"
+
+"Mrs. Trimmings's dress?" repeated Mr. Drummond, in a rapid crescendo.
+"Oh, Miss Challoner! I declare this beats everything!"
+
+Phillis threw him a glance. She meant it to be cool, but she could not
+keep the sadness out of her eyes; they did so contradict the assumed
+lightness of her words:
+
+"Miss Milner was far more considerate: she made Joseph carry hers to
+the Friary when he left your papers. Was he not a benevolent Joseph?
+Mrs. Trimmings wanted to wrap up her silk in newspaper; but I said to
+myself, 'One must draw the line somewhere;' and so I held out for
+brown paper. Do you think you could have offered to carry a parcel in
+newspaper, Mr. Drummond? Oh, by the bye, how can you condescend to
+walk with a dressmaker? But this is a quiet road, and no one will see
+you."
+
+"Pardon me if I contradict you, but there is Colonel Middleton looking
+over his garden palings this moment," returned Mr. Drummond, who had
+just become painfully aware of the fact.
+
+"Don't you think you had better go and speak to him, then? for you see
+I am in no need of help," retorted Phillis, who was sore all over, and
+wanted to get rid of him, and yet would have been offended if he had
+taken her at her word. But Mr. Drummond, who felt his position an
+uncomfortable one, and was dreadfully afraid of the colonel's banter,
+was not mean enough to take advantage of her dismissal. He had joined
+himself to her company out of pure good nature, for it was a hot day
+and the parcel was heavy, but she would have none of his assistance.
+
+So he only waved his hand to his friend, who took off his old felt hat
+very solemnly in return, and watched them with a grieved expression
+until they were out of sight.
+
+"Now I will bid you good-bye," he said, when they had reached the
+vicarage.
+
+Phillis said nothing; but she held out her hand, and there was a
+certain brightness in her eyes that showed she was pleased.
+
+"He is a gentleman, every inch of him; and I won't quarrel with him
+any more," she thought, as she walked up to the Friary. "Oh, how nice
+it would have been if we were still at Glen Cottage and he could see
+us at our best, and we were able to entertain him in our old fashion!
+How Carrie and the other girls would have liked him! and how jealous
+Dick would have been! for he never liked our bringing strange young
+men to the house, and always found fault with them if he could," and
+here Phillis sighed, and for the moment Mrs. Trimmings was forgotten.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+"BRAVO, ATALANTA!"
+
+
+Phillis received quite an ovation as soon as she crossed the
+threshold. Dulce, who was listening for her footsteps, rushed out into
+the little hall, and dragged her in, as though she were too weary to
+have any movement or volition of her own. And then Nan came up, in her
+calm elder-sisterly way, and put her arm round her, and hoped she was
+not so very tired, and there was so much to say, and so much to do,
+and she wanted her advice, and so on.
+
+And on Nan's forehead lay a thoughtful pucker; and on the centre-table
+were sundry breadths of green silk, crisp-looking and faintly bronzed,
+like withered leaves with the sun on them.
+
+"Oh, dear! has Miss Drummond been here in my absence?" asked Phillis,
+with the overwhelmed feeling of a beginner, who has not yet learned to
+separate and classify, or the rich value of odd moments. "Three
+dresses to be done at once!"
+
+"One at a time. But never mind Miss Drummond's this moment. Mother is
+safe in the store-cupboard for the next half-hour, and we want to know
+what you mean by your ridiculous message, 'Trimmings, not Squails.'
+Dulce is dying of curiosity, and so am I."
+
+"Yes; but she looks so hot and tired that she must refresh herself
+first." And Dulce placed on her sister's lap a plate of yellow plums,
+perfectly bedded in moss, which had come from the vicarage garden. And
+as Phillis enjoyed the dainty repast and poured out her morning's
+experiences in the ears of her astonished auditors, lo, the
+humiliation and the sting were forgotten, and only an intense sense of
+the humor of the situation remained.
+
+It was Dulce whose pink cheeks were burning now.
+
+"Oh, Phillis! how could you? It is too dreadful even to think about!
+That fat old thing, too! Why, she is twice as big as Mrs. Squails!"
+
+"Beggars cannot be choosers, my dear," replied Phillis, airily; for
+rest was pleasant, and the fruit was good, and it was so delicious to
+feel all that was over and she was safe in her nest again; and then
+the pleasure of talking it all over! "Do you know--?" she began, in a
+disconnected manner, and then sat and stared at her sisters with
+luminous gray eyes, until they begged to know what the new idea was.
+
+"Oh, nothing," she replied, and colored a little. And then she blurted
+out, in an oddly-ashamed way, "it was talking to you two dears that
+put it in my head. But I could not help thinking that moment that if
+one is ever good enough to get to heaven, one of the greatest
+pleasures will be to talk about all our past miseries and
+difficulties, and how the angels helped us! and, though you may laugh
+at me,"--they were doing nothing of the kind, only admiring her with
+all their might,--"I have a kind of fancy that even my 'Trimmings, not
+Squails' episode may have a different look up there!"
+
+"My dear," returned Nan, gently, for she loved all speeches of this
+sort, being a devout little soul and truly pious, "nothing was further
+from my thoughts than to laugh at you, for the more we think in this
+way the grander our work will appear to us. Mrs. Trimmings may be fat
+and vulgar, but when you were measuring her and answering her so
+prettily--and I know how nicely you would speak, Phil--I think you
+were as brave as one of those old knights--I cannot remember their
+names--who set out on some lofty quest or other!"
+
+"I suppose the child means Sir Galahad," observed Phillis, with a
+groan at Nan's ignorance. "Oh, Nannie, I wish I could say,--
+
+               "'My strength is as the strength of ten,
+                   Because my heart is pure;'"
+
+and then she softly chanted,--for quotation never came amiss to her,
+and her head was crammed with choice selections from the poets,--
+
+                 "'All armed I ride, whate'er betide,
+                     Until I find the Holy Grail.'"
+
+"Yes, the Sangreal, or the Quest. It does not matter what, for it was
+only an allegory," returned Nan, who had plenty of ideas, only she
+confused them sometimes, and was not as clever in her definitions as
+Phillis. "It only meant that those grand old knights had some holy
+purpose and aim in their lives, for which they trained and toiled and
+fought. Don't you see?--the meaning is quite clear. We can have our
+Quest too."
+
+"Bless her dear heart, if she is not travelling thousands of years and
+miles from Mrs. Trimmings!" exclaimed Phillis, who never could be
+serious long. "Well, Nannie, I understand you, though you are a trifle
+vague. We will have our Quest and our unattainable standard; and I
+will be your maiden knight--yours and Dulce's.
+
+                "'How sweet are looks that ladies bend
+                    On whom their favors fall!
+                For them I'll battle till the end,
+                    To save from shame and thrall.'"
+
+And when she had repeated this she rose, laughing, and said they were
+all a little demented; and what did they mean by wasting their time
+when there were three dresses to be cut out? and Dulce must have the
+work fixed for the sewing-machine.
+
+For the next hour there was little talk, only the snipping sound of
+scissors and the rustling of silken breadths, and sometimes the swish
+and the tearing of sundry materials, and then the whirring and burning
+and tappings of Dulce's sewing machine, like a dozen or two of
+woodpeckers at work on an iron tree. And no one quoted any more
+poetry, for prose was heaped up everywhere about them, and their heads
+were full of business.
+
+But in the afternoon, when things were in progress and looked
+promising, and Mrs. Challoner had had her nap, and was busy over some
+sleeves that they had given her to keep her quiet and satisfy her
+maternal conscience that she was helping her girls, Phillis did hear a
+little about Miss Drummond's visit. The sewing machine, which they
+worked by turns, had stopped for a time, and they were all three round
+the table, sewing and fixing as busily as possible: and Phillis,
+remembering Sir Galahad, dared not say she was tired, only she looked
+out on the lengthening shadows with delight, and thought about tea and
+an evening walk just to stretch her cramped muscles. And if one day
+seemed so long, how would a week of days appear before the blessed
+Sunday gave them a few hours of freedom?
+
+It was at this moment that Nan, with fine tact, broke the silence that
+was good for work, but was apt to wax drowsy in time:
+
+"Miss Milner's dress is getting on well. How fast you two girls work!
+and mammie is doing the sleeves beautifully. Another afternoon you
+must let the work rest, mammie, and read to us, or Phillis will get
+restive. By the bye, Dulce, we have not told her a word about Miss
+Drummond's visit."
+
+"No, indeed: was it not good of her to come so soon?" exclaimed Dulce.
+"She told us she wanted to be our first customer, and seemed quite
+disappointed when we said that we were bound in honor and mere
+gratitude to send Miss Milner's dress home first. 'Not that I am in a
+hurry for my dress, for nobody cares what I wear,' she said, quite
+cheerfully; 'but I wanted to be the first on your list.' I wish we
+could oblige her, for she is a nice, unaffected little thing, and I am
+beginning to like her, though she is a little fussy."
+
+"But she was as meek as a lamb about her dress," added Nan, who was a
+first-rate needle-woman, and could work rapidly while she talked.
+"Just fancy, Phil! she wanted to have a jacket with tabs and loose
+sleeves, just for comfort and coolness."
+
+"Loose sleeves and a jacket!" almost gasped Phillis, for the princess
+skirts were then worn, and jackets were consigned to oblivion for the
+time being. "I hope you told her, Nan, that we had never worked for
+Mrs. Noah, neither had Mrs. Shem ever honored us by her custom."
+
+"Well, no, Phillis; I was not quite so impertinent, and clever
+speeches of that sort never occur to me until you say them. But I told
+Miss Drummond that I could not consent to spoil her lovely dress in
+that way; and then she laughed and gave in, and owned she knew nothing
+about fashions, and that her sister Grace always ordered her clothes
+for her, because she chose such ugly things. She sat and chatted such
+a long time with us; she had only just gone when you came home."
+
+"And she told us such a lot about this wonderful Grace," went on
+Dulce: "she says Archie quite worships her.--Well, mammie," as Mrs.
+Challoner poised her needle in mid-air and regarded her youngest
+daughter with unfeigned astonishment, "I am only repeating Miss
+Drummond's words; she said 'Archie.'"
+
+"But, my dear, there was no need to be so literal," returned Mrs.
+Challoner, reprovingly; for she was a gentlewoman of the old school,
+and nothing grieved her more than slipshod English or any idiom or
+idiotcy of modern parlance in the mouths of her bright young
+daughters: to speak of any young man except Dick without the
+ceremonious prefix was a heinous misdemeanor in her eyes. Dulce would
+occasionally trespass, and was always rebuked with much gravity. "You
+could have said 'her brother,' could you not?"
+
+"Oh, mammie, I am sure Providence intended you for an old maid, and
+you have not fulfilled your destiny," retorted Dulce, who was rarely
+awed by her mother's solemnity. "All that fuss because I said
+'Archie!' Oh, I forgot, that name is sacred: the Rev. Archibald
+Drummond adores his sister Grace."
+
+"And she must be very nice," returned Mrs. Challoner with an indulgent
+smile at her pet Dulce. "I am sure, from what Miss Drummond told us
+this morning, that she must be a most superior person. Why, Phillis,
+she teaches all her four younger sisters, and one of them is sixteen.
+Miss Drummond says she is never out of the school-room, except for an
+hour or two in the evening, when her father and brothers come home.
+There are two more brothers, I think she said. Dear what a large
+family! and Miss Drummond hinted that they were not well off."
+
+"I should like to know that Grace," began Phillis; and then she shook
+her head reflectively. "No, depend upon it, we should be disappointed
+in her: family paragons are generally odious to other folk. Most
+likely she wears spectacles, and is a thin thread-papery sort of
+person."
+
+"On the contrary, she is a sweet-looking girl, with large melancholy
+eyes; for Miss Drummond showed us her photograph. So much for your
+imagination, Phil?" and Dulce looked triumphant. "And she is only
+twenty-two, and, though not pretty, just the sort of face one could
+love."
+
+"Some people's swans turn out to be geese in the end," remarked
+Phillis, provokingly; but she registered at the same time a mental
+resolve that she would cross-examine Mr. Drummond on the earliest
+opportunity about this wonderful sister of his. Oh, it was no marvel
+if he did look down on them when they had not got brains enough to
+earn their living except in this way! and Phillis stuck her needle
+into Miss Milner's body-lining so viciously that it broke.
+
+The sharp click roused Nan's vigilance, and she looked up, and was at
+once full of pity for Phillis's pale face.
+
+"You are tired, Phil, and so are we all," she said, brightly; "and, as
+it is our first day of work, we will not overdo ourselves. Mammie, if
+you will make the tea, we will just tidy up, and look out the patterns
+for you to match the trimmings and buttons to-morrow;" for this same
+business of matching was rather hailed by Mrs. Challoner as a relief
+and amusement.
+
+Phillis grumbled a little over this additional labor, though, at the
+same time, no one worked harder than she; but she was careful to
+explain that it was her right, as a freeborn Britoness, to grumble,
+and that it was as much a relief to her peculiar constitution as a
+good long yawn is to some people.
+
+"And it answers two purposes," as she observed; "for it airs the
+lungs, and relieves the mind, and no one takes any more notice than if
+I set the wind blowing. And thankful I am, and every mother's child of
+us, that Dorothy is approaching this room with her dust-pan and brush.
+Dorothy, I have a nice little sum for you to do. How many snippets of
+green and black silk go to a dust-pan? Count them, and subtract all
+the tacking-thread, and Dulce's pins."
+
+"Phillis, you are just feverish from overfatigue and sitting so long
+in one place, for you are used to running about." And Nan took her by
+the shoulders, and marched her playfully to the small parlor, where
+Mrs. Challoner was waiting for them.
+
+"Come, girls!" she said, cheerfully. "Dorothy has baked your favorite
+little cakes, and there are new-laid eggs for those who are hungry;
+and I am sure you all earned your tea, darlings. And, oh, Phillis! how
+tired you look!" And Mrs. Challoner looked round on each face in turn,
+in the unwise but loving way of mothers.
+
+This was too much for Phillis; and she interlaced her fingers and put
+them suddenly and sternly over her mother's eyes.
+
+"Now, mammie, promise."
+
+"Phillis, my dear, how can you be so absurd!" but Mrs. Challoner
+strove in vain to release herself. Phillis's fingers had iron tenacity
+in them when she chose.
+
+"A thing like this must be nipped in the bud," pronounced Phillis,
+apostrophizing her laughing sisters. "You must not look at us in that
+fashion every evening, as though we were sheep in a pen, or rabbits
+for sale. You will be weighing us next; and my nerves will not stand
+it. No, mother; here I strike. I will not be looked at in that
+manner."
+
+"But, Phillis--Oh, you nonsensical child!"
+
+"Personal remarks are to be tabooed from this moment. You must not
+say, 'How tired you look!' or 'How pale you are!' It is not manners at
+the Friary, and it is demoralizing. I am ten times more tired this
+minute than I was before you told me so."
+
+"Very well, Phillis; but you must let me pour out the tea." And then
+Phillis subsided. But she had started the fun, and Dulce soon took it
+up and set the ball rolling. And Dorothy, working hard with her
+dust-pan and brushes, heard the merriment, and her old face lighted
+up.
+
+"Bless their sweet faces!--pretending to be happy, just to cheer up
+the mistress, and make believe it is only a game they are having!"
+muttered the old woman, as she paused to listen. "But, if I am not
+mistaken, Miss Phillis, poor dear, is just ready to drop with fatigue.
+Only to hear her, one would think she was as perky as possible."
+
+When the evening meal was over, Mrs. Challoner leaned back in her
+chair and made a little speech to her daughters:
+
+"Thank you, my dears. You have done me so much good. Now, if you want
+to please me, you will all three put on your hats and take a nice long
+walk together."
+
+The girls looked at each other, and every pair of eyes said, as
+plainly as possible, "What a delicious idea! But only two can go, and
+I intend to be the filial victim." But Mrs. Challoner was too quick
+for them. "I said all three," she remarked, very decidedly. "If one
+offers to stay with me, I shall just put myself to bed and lock the
+door; but if you will be good, and enjoy this lovely evening, I will
+take my book in the garden and be quite happy until you come back to
+me." And when they saw that she meant it, and would only be worried by
+a fuss, they went off as obediently as possible.
+
+They walked very sedately down the Braidwood Road, and past the White
+House; but when they got into the town, Phillis hurried them on a
+little: "I don't want people. It is air and exercise and freedom for
+which I am pining." And she walked so fast that they had some trouble
+to keep up with her.
+
+But when they had left every trace of human habitation behind them,
+and were strolling down the rough, uneven beach, towards a narrow
+strip of sand, that would soon be covered by the advancing tide,
+Phillis said, in an odd, breathless way, "Nan, just look round and see
+if there be any one in sight, before, behind, or around us;" and Nan,
+though in some little surprise, did at once as she was bidden, in the
+most thorough manner. For she looked up at the sky first, as though
+she were afraid of balloons or possible angels; and then at the sea,
+which she scanned narrowly, so that not even a fish could escape her;
+and after that she beat the boundaries of the land.
+
+"No, there is not a creature in sight except ourselves and Laddie,"
+she answered.
+
+"Very well," answered Phillis promptly. "Then, if it be all safe, and
+the Hadleigh wits are away wool gathering, and you will not tell
+mother, I mean to have a race with Dulce, as far as we can run along
+the shore; and if I do not win----" And here she pursed up her lips
+and left her sentence unfinished, as though determined to be
+provoking.
+
+"We shall see about that," returned Dulce, accepting the challenge in
+a moment; for she was always ready to follow a good lead.
+
+"Oh, you foolish children?" observed Nan, in her staid fashion. But
+she did not offer the slightest remonstrance, knowing of old that
+unless Phillis found some safety-valve she would probably wax
+dangerous. So she called Laddie to her, and held him whining and
+struggling, for he wanted to stretch his little legs too; thinking a
+race was good for dogs as well as for girls. But Nan would not hear of
+it for a moment: he might trip them up and cause another sprained
+ankle.
+
+"Now, Nan, you must be umpire, and say, One, two, three!" And Nan
+again obeys, and then watches them with interest. Oh, how pretty it
+was, if only any one could have seen it, except the crabs and the
+star-fish, and they never take much notice: the foreground of the
+summer sea coming up with little purple rushes and a fringe of foam;
+the yellow sand, jagged, uneven, with salt-water pools here and there;
+the two girls in their light dresses skimming over the ground with
+swift feet, skirting the pools, jumping lightly over stones, even
+climbing a breakwater, then running along another level piece of
+sand,--Dulce a little behind, but Phillis as erect and sure-footed as
+Atalanta.
+
+Now Nan has lost them, and puts Laddie down and prepares to follow. In
+spite of her staidness, she would have dearly loved a run too; only
+she thinks of Dick, and forbears.
+
+Dulce, who is out of breath, fears she must give up the race, and
+begins to pant and drop behind in earnest, and to wish salt water were
+fresh, and then to dread the next breakwater as a hopeless obstacle;
+but Phillis, who is still as fresh as possible, squares her elbows as
+she has seen athletes do, and runs lightly up to it, unmindful and
+blissfully ignorant of human eyes behind a central hole.
+
+Some one who is of a classical turn has been thinking of the daughter
+of Iasus and Clymene, and cries out, "Bravo, Atalanta! but where is
+Milanion, that he has forgotten the golden apples?" And Phillis,
+stricken dumb by the question and the sudden apparition of a bearded
+face behind the breakwater, remains standing as though she were carved
+in stone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+MOTHERS ARE MOTHERS.
+
+
+"Mr. Drummond! Oh dear! is one never to be free from pastoral
+supervision?" muttered Phillis, half sulkily, when she roused from her
+stupefaction and had breath to take the offensive. And what would he
+think of her? But that was a question to be deferred until later, when
+nightmares and darkness and troublesome thoughts harass the unwary
+soul. "Like a dog, he hunts in dreams," she might have said to
+herself, quoting from "Locksley Hall." But she did nothing of the
+kind,--only looked at the offending human being with such an outraged
+dignity in her bearing that Mr. Drummond nearly committed himself by
+bursting out laughing.
+
+He refrained with difficulty, and said rather dryly,--
+
+"That was a good race; but I saw you would win from the first; and you
+jumped that stone splendidly. I suppose you know the story of
+Atalanta?"
+
+"Oh, yes," responded Phillis, gloomily; but she could not help showing
+off her knowledge all the same; and she had always been so fond of
+heathen mythology, and had even read translations of Homer and Virgil.
+"She had a she-bear for a nurse, and was eventually turned into a
+lion; and I always thought her very stupid for being such a baby and
+stopping to pick up the golden apple."
+
+"Nevertheless, the subject is a charming one for a picture," returned
+Archie, with admirable readiness, for he saw Phillis was greatly hurt
+by this untoward accident, and he liked the girl all the better for
+her spirit. He would not have discovered himself at all, only in
+another moment she must have seen him; and if she would only have
+believed how fully he entered into the fun, and how graceful and
+harmless he thought it, there would have been no pang of wounded
+self-esteem left. But girls, especially if they be worthy of the name,
+are so sensitive and prickly on such matters.
+
+Dulce had basely deserted her sister, and, at the sight of the
+clerical felt hat, had fled to Nan's side for protection.
+
+"Oh, never mind," Nan had said, consoling her: "it is only Mr.
+Drummond. And he will know how it was, and that we thought there was
+not a creature in sight." Nevertheless, she felt a little sorry in her
+heart that such a thing had happened. It would spoil Phillis's mirth,
+for she was very proud; and it might shock their mother.
+
+"Oh, he will think us such tomboys for grown-up young ladies!" sighed
+Dulce, who was only just grown up.
+
+"Never mind what he thinks," returned Nan, walking fast, for she was
+anxious to come to Phillis's relief. She joined them very quietly, and
+held out her hand to Archie as though nothing had happened.
+
+"Is this a favorite walk of yours, Mr. Drummond? We thought we had it
+all to ourselves, and so the girls had a race. They will be dreadfully
+troubled at having a spectator; but it might be worse, for you already
+know us well enough not to misconstrue a little bit of fun."
+
+"I am glad you judge me so truly," returned Archie, with a gleam of
+pleasure in his eyes. Phillis certainly looked uncommonly handsome, as
+she stood there, flushed and angry. But how sweet and cool Nan
+looked!--not a hair ruffled nor a fold of her dress out of order;
+whereas Dulce's brown locks were all loose about her shoulders, shaken
+down by the exercise. Nevertheless, at that moment Phillis looked the
+most striking.
+
+"I am afraid my sudden appearance has put your sister out dreadfully.
+I assure you I would have made myself into thin air if I could," went
+on Archie, penitently; "but all the same it was impossible not to
+applaud the winner. I felt inclined to wave my hat in the air, and
+cry, 'Bravo, Atalanta!' half a dozen times. You made such pretty
+running, Miss Challoner; and I wish Grace could have seen it."
+
+The last word acted like magic on Phillis's cloudy brow. She had
+passed over two delicately-implied compliments with a little scorn.
+Did he think her, like other girls, to be mollified by sugar-plums and
+sweet speeches? He might keep all that for the typical young lady of
+Hadleigh. At Oldfield the young men knew her better.
+
+It must be owned that the youth of that place had been slightly in awe
+of Phillis. One or two had even hinted that they thought her
+strong-minded. "She has stand-off ways, and rather laughs at a fellow,
+and makes one feel sometimes like a fool," they said; which did not
+prove much, except that Phillis showed herself above nonsense, and
+had a knowledge of shams, and would not be deceived, and, being the
+better horse of the two, showed it; and no man likes to be taken down
+in his class.
+
+As Phillis would not flirt,--not understanding the art, but Dulce
+proved herself to be a pretty apt pupil,--they left off trying to make
+her, and talked sensibly to her instead, which she liked better. But,
+though more than one had admired her, no one had ventured to persuade
+himself or her that he was in love; but for that there was plenty of
+time, Phillis not being the sort of girl to remain long without a
+lover.
+
+So when she heard Grace's name she pricked up her ears, and the proud
+look left her face; and she said, a little archly, but in a way that
+pleased Mr. Drummond,--
+
+"All the same, I am glad your sister was not here, for she would think
+Dulce and me such tomboys!" using Dulce's very expression.
+
+Archie shook his head very decidedly at this.
+
+"Ah! you do not know Grace, and how she loves a bit of fun; only she
+never gets it, poor girl!" sighing in a marked manner, for he saw how
+interested Phillis looked. "If you could only hear her laugh; but
+please sit down a moment and rest yourselves," continued the artful
+young man, who had not dared to purpose such a thing before.
+
+Nan hesitated; but a glance at Phillis's hot face decided her.
+
+"Just for five minutes," she said, "and then we must go back to
+mother;" for she had already determined that they must cut their walk
+short for the purpose of getting rid of Mr. Drummond.
+
+And then they sat down on the beach, and Dulce retired behind the
+breakwater to take off her hat and tuck up her hair; while Archie,
+taking no notice, leaned against the other side, and felt well
+contented with his position,--three such pretty girls, and all the
+world well away!
+
+"Is Grace your favorite sister?" asked Phillis, suddenly, as she
+menaced Laddie with a small pebble.
+
+This was a lucky opening for Archie. He was never seen to more
+advantage than when he was talking about Grace. There was no
+constraint or consciousness about him at such times, but he would
+speak with a simple earnestness that made people say, "What a good
+fellow he is!"
+
+"Oh, she has always been that, you know," he said, brightly, "ever
+since she was a little thing, and I used to carry her about in my
+arms, and string horse-chestnuts for her, when she was the funniest,
+merriest little creature, and so clever. I suppose when a man has
+seven sisters he may be allowed to have a favorite among them? and
+there is not one of them to compare with Grace."
+
+"Seven sisters!" repeated Nan, with a smile; and then she added "you
+are very lucky, Mr. Drummond."
+
+Archie shrugged his shoulders at this: he had never quite recognized
+his blessings in this respect. Isabel and Dottie might be tolerated,
+but he could easily have dispensed with Susie and Laura and Clara; he
+had a knack of forgetting their existence when he was absent from
+them, and when he was at home he did not always care to be reminded of
+their presence. He was one of those men who are very exacting to their
+women-kind, who resent it as a personal injury if they fail in good
+looks or are not pleasant to the eye. He did not go so far as to say
+to himself that he could dispense with poor Mattie too, but he
+certainly acted on most occasions as though he thought so.
+
+"Are you not fond of all your sisters?" asked Phillis, rather
+maliciously, for she had remarked the shrug.
+
+"Oh, as to that," replied the young man, coloring a little, "one
+cannot expect to be interested in a lot of school-girls. I am afraid I
+know very little about the four youngest, except that they are working
+Grace to death. Just fancy, Miss Challoner!" he continued, addressing
+Nan, and quite disregarding Phillis's sympathetic looks. "Grace has
+actually no life of her own at all; she teaches those girls, sits with
+them, walks with them, helps them mend their clothes, just like a
+daily or rather a nursery governess, except that she is not paid, and
+has no holidays. I cannot think how my mother can find it in her heart
+to work her so hard!" finished Archie, excited to wrath at the
+remembrance of Grace's wrongs.
+
+"Well, do you know," returned Nan, thoughtfully, as he seemed to
+expect an answer to this, and Phillis for a wonder was silent, "I
+cannot think your sister an object of pity. Think what a good and
+useful life she is leading! She must be a perfect treasure to her
+mother; and I dare say they all love her dearly."
+
+"The girls do," was the somewhat grudging response: "they follow her
+about like four shadows, and even Isabel can do nothing without her
+advice. When I am at home I can scarcely get her for a moment to
+myself; it is 'Grace, come here,' and 'Grace, please do this for me,'
+until I wonder she is not worn out."
+
+"Oh, how happy she must be!" responded Nan, softly, for to her no lot
+seemed sweeter than this. To be the centre and support of a large
+family circle,--the friend and trusted confidante of each! What a
+wonderful creature this Grace must be! and how could he speak of her
+in that pitying tone? "No life of her own!" Well, what life could she
+want better than this? To be the guide and teacher of her younger
+sisters, and to be loved by them so dearly! "Oh, I think she is to be
+envied! her life must be so full of interest," she said, addressing
+the astonished Archie, who had certainly never taken this view of it.
+And when she had said this, she gave a slight signal to her sisters,
+which they understood at once; and then they paced slowly down the
+beach, with their faces towards the town, talking as they went.
+
+They did not walk four abreast, as they used to do in the Oldfield
+lanes; but Nan led the way with Mr. Drummond, and Phillis and Dulce
+dropped behind.
+
+Archie was a little silent; but presently he said, quite frankly, as
+though he had known her for years,--but from the first moment he had
+felt strangely at home with these girls,--
+
+"Do you know, you have thrown a fresh light on a vexed subject? I have
+been worrying myself dreadfully about Grace. I wanted her to live with
+me because there was more sympathy between us than there ever will be
+between my sister Mattie and myself. We have more in common, and think
+the same on so many subjects; and I knew how happy I could have made
+her."
+
+"Yes, I see," returned Nan; and she looked up at him in such an
+interested way that he found no difficulty in going on:
+
+"We had planned for years to live together; but when I accepted the
+living, and the question was mooted in the family council, my mother
+would not hear of it for a moment. She said Grace could not possibly
+be spared."
+
+"Well, I suppose not, after what you have told me. But it must have
+been a great disappointment to you both," was Nan's judicious reply.
+
+"I have never ceased to regret my mother's decision," he returned,
+warmly; "and as for Grace, I fear she has taken the disappointment
+grievously to heart."
+
+"Oh, I hope not!"
+
+"Isabel writes to my sister Mattie that Grace is looking thin and pale
+and has lost her appetite, and she thinks the mother is getting uneasy
+about her; and I cannot help worrying myself about it, and thinking
+how all this might have been averted."
+
+"I think you are wrong in that," was the unexpected answer. "When one
+has acted rightly to the very best of one's power, it is of no use
+worrying about consequences."
+
+"How do you mean?" asked Archie, very much surprised at the decided
+tone in which Nan spoke. He had thought her too soft in manners to
+possess much energy and determination of character; but he was
+mistaken.
+
+"It would be far worse if your sister had not recognized her duty and
+refused to remain at home. One cannot find happiness if one moves out
+of one's allotted niche; but of course you know all this better than
+I, being a clergyman. And, oh! how beautifully you spoke to us last
+Sunday!" finished Nan, remembering all at once that she was usurping
+his place and preaching a little sermon of her own.
+
+"Never mind that," he replied, impatiently: "tell me what you mean.
+There is something behind your speech: you think I am wrong in pitying
+poor Grace so much?"
+
+"If you ask me so plainly, I must say yes, though perhaps I am not
+competent to judge; but, from what you tell me, I think you ought not
+to pity her at all. She is fulfilling her destiny. Is she not doing
+the work given her to do? and what can any girl want more? You should
+trust your mother, I think, Mr. Drummond; for she would not willingly
+overwork her. Mothers are mothers: you need not be afraid," said Nan,
+looking up in her clear honest way.
+
+"Thank you; you have taken a weight off my mind," returned Archie,
+more moved by this than he cared to own. That last speech had gone
+home: he must trust his mother. In a moment scales seemed to fall from
+the young man's eyes as he walked along gravely, and silently by Nan.
+"Why, what manner of girls could these be?" he thought; "frolicsome as
+kittens, and yet possessing the wisdom of mature womanhood?" And those
+few simple words of Nan abided long with him.
+
+What if he and Grace were making a mistake, and there was no hardship
+in her case at all, but only clear duty, and a most high privilege, as
+Nan hinted? What if his mother were right, and only they were wrong?
+
+The idea was salutary, but hardly pleasant; for he had certainly aided
+and abetted Grace in her discontent, and had doubtless increased her
+repinings at her dull surroundings. Surely Grace's talents had been
+given her for a purpose; else why was she so much cleverer than the
+others,--so gifted with womanly accomplishments? And that clear head
+of hers,--she had a genius for teaching, he had never denied that. Was
+his mother, a sensible large-sighted woman in her way, to be secretly
+condemned as a tyrant, and wanting in maternal tenderness for Grace,
+because she had made use of this gifted daughter for the good of her
+other children, and had refused to part with her at Archie's request?
+
+Archie began to feel uncomfortable, for conscience was waxing warm
+within him; and there had been a grieved hurt tone in his mother's
+letters of late, as though she had felt herself neglected by him.
+
+"Mothers are mothers: you need not be afraid," Nan had said, with
+simple wholesome faith in the instincts of motherhood; and the words
+had come home to him with the strongest power.
+
+His poor harassed mother,--what a hard life hers had been! Archie
+began to feel his heart quite tender towards her; perhaps she was a
+little severe and exacting with the girls, but they none of them
+understood her in the least, "for her bark was always worse than her
+bite," thought Archie; and girls, at least the generality of them, are
+sometimes aggravating.
+
+He thought of the weary times she must have had with his father,--for
+Mr. Drummond could make himself disagreeable to his wife when things
+went wrong with him, and the sullen fortitude with which he bore his
+reversal of fortune gave small opening to her tenderness; the very
+way in which he shirked all domestic responsibilities, leaving on her
+shoulders the whole weight of the domestic machinery and all the
+home-management, had hardened and embittered her.
+
+A large family and small means, little support from her husband,--who
+interfered less and less with domestic matters,--all this had no doubt
+fostered the arbitrary will that governed the Drummond household. If
+her husband had only kept her in check,--if he had supported her
+authority, and not left her to stand alone,--she would have been, not
+a better woman, for Archie knew his mother was good, but she would
+have been softer and more lovable, and her children would have seen
+deeper into her heart.
+
+Some such thoughts as these passed through Archie's mind as he walked
+beside Nan; but he worked them out more carefully when he was alone
+that night. Just before they reached the Friary, he had started
+another subject; for, turning to Phillis and Dulce, whom he had
+hitherto ignored, he asked them whether he might enroll one or all of
+them among his Sunday-school teachers.
+
+Phillis's eyes sparkled at this.
+
+"Oh, Nan, how delightful! it will remind us of Oldfield."
+
+"Yes, indeed:" chimed in Dulce, who had left her infant-class with
+regret; but, to their surprise, Nan demurred.
+
+"At Oldfield things were very different," she said, decidedly: "we
+played all the week, and it was no hardship to teach the dear children
+on Sunday; but now we shall have to work so hard that we shall be glad
+of one day's rest."
+
+"But surely you might spare us one hour or two in the afternoon?"
+returned Archie, putting on what Grace called "his clerical face."
+
+"In the afternoons mother will be glad of our company, and sometimes
+we shall indulge in a walk. No, Mr. Drummond, our week-days are too
+full of work, and we shall need all the rest we can get on Sunday."
+And, with a smile, Nan dismissed the subject.
+
+Phillis spoke regretfully of it when he had left them.
+
+"It would have been so nice," she pleaded; but Nan was inexorable.
+
+"You can go if you like, Phil; but I think mother is entitled to that
+one afternoon in the week, and I will not consent to any parish work
+on that account; and then I am sure we shall often be so tired." And
+Nan's good sense, as usual, carried the day.
+
+After that they all grouped round the window in the little parlor, and
+repeated to their mother every word of their conversation with Mr.
+Drummond.
+
+Mrs. Challoner grew alarmed and tearful in a moment.
+
+"Oh, my darlings, promise me to be more careful for the future!" she
+pleaded. "Of course it was only fun, Phillis and he will not think
+anything of it. Still, in a strange place, where no one knows
+you----"
+
+"Dulce and I will never run a race again, I think I can promise you
+that," replied Phillis, very grimly, who felt that "Bravo, Atalanta!"
+would haunt her in her dreams.
+
+"And--and I would not walk about with Mr. Drummond, though he is our
+clergyman and a very gentlemanly person. People might talk: and in
+your position, my poor dears"--Mrs. Challoner hesitated, for she was
+very nice in her scruples, and not for worlds would she have hinted to
+her daughters that Mr. Drummond was young and unmarried, and a very
+handsome man in the bargain: "You see, I cannot always be with you,
+and, as you have to work for your living, and cannot be guarded like
+other girls, you have all the more need to be circumspect. You don't
+think me over strict, do you, darlings?"
+
+"No, dear mother, you are perfectly right," returned Nan, kissing her.
+"I knew how you would feel, and so we came home directly to get rid of
+him: it would never do for the vicar of the parish to be seen walking
+about with dressmakers."
+
+"Don't, Nan!" exclaimed Phillis, with a shudder. Nevertheless, as she
+turned away she remembered how she had enjoyed that walk down the
+Braidwood Road that very morning, when he offered to carry home Mrs.
+Trimmings's dress and she would not let him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+MATTIE'S NEW DRESS.
+
+
+The remainder of the week passed harmlessly and without any special
+event to mark it, and, thanks to Nan's skilful management and
+Phillis's pride, there were no further _contretemps_ to shock Mrs.
+Challoner's sense of propriety. The work progressed with astonishing
+rapidity: in the mornings the young dressmakers were sufficiently
+brisk and full of zeal, and in the afternoons, when their energies
+flagged and their fingers grew weary, Dulce would sing over her task,
+or Mrs. Challoner would read to them for the hour together; but,
+notwithstanding the interest of the tale, there was always great
+alacrity manifested when the tea-bell gave them the excuse for putting
+away their work.
+
+On one or two evenings they gardened, and Mrs. Challoner sat under the
+mulberry-tree and watched them; on another occasion they took a long
+country walk, and lost themselves, and came back merry and tired, and
+laden with primrose-roots and ferns: they had met no one, except a
+stray laborer,--had seen glow-worms, picked wild flowers, and declared
+themselves mightily refreshed. One evening Phillis, who was not to be
+repressed, contrived a new amusement.
+
+"Life is either a mill-pond or a whirlpool," she said, rather
+sententiously: "we have been stagnant for three days, and I begin to
+feel flat. Races are tabooed: besides, we cannot always leave mother
+alone. I propose we go out in the garden and have a game of battledore
+and shuttlecock;" for this had been a winter pastime with them at the
+cottage.
+
+Nan, who was always rather sober-minded now, demurred to this. She
+would have preferred gardening a little, or sitting quietly with her
+mother under the mulberry-tree; but Phillis, who was in a wild mood,
+overruled all her objections, and by and by the battle began, and the
+shuttlecocks flew through the air.
+
+The week's work was finished, and the three dresses lay in their
+wrappers, waiting for Dorothy to convey them to their several owners.
+Nan who was really an _artiste_ at heart, had called her mother
+proudly into the room to admire the result of their labors. Mrs.
+Challoner was far too accustomed to her daughter's skilfulness to
+testify any surprise, but she at once pronounced Miss Drummond's dress
+the _chef-d'oeuvre_. Nan's taste was faultless; and the trimmings she
+had selected harmonized so well with the soft tints of the silk.
+
+"They are all very nice; and Mrs. Trimmings will be charmed with her
+blue silk," observed Mrs. Challoner, trying to throw a little interest
+into her voice, and to suppress a sigh; and then she helped Nan to
+adjust the wrappers, and to pin the neatly-written bills inside each.
+
+"I am sure that is business-like," said Nan, with a satisfied nod, for
+she never could do anything by halves; and she was so interested in
+her work that she would have been heart-broken if she thought one of
+the dresses would be a misfit; and then it was that Phillis, who had
+been watching her very closely, brightened up and proposed a game.
+
+It was a very pretty sight, the mother thought, as she followed her
+girls' movements; the young figures swayed so gracefully as they
+skimmed hither and thither over the lawn with light butterfly
+movements, the three eager faces upturned in the evening light, their
+heads held well back.
+
+"Two hundred, two hundred and one, two hundred and two--don't let it
+drop, Dulce!" panted Phillis, breathlessly.
+
+"Oh, my darlings, don't tire yourselves!" exclaimed Mrs. Challoner, as
+her eyes followed the white flutter of the shuttlecocks.
+
+This was the picture that Mr. Drummond surveyed. Dorothy, who was just
+starting on her round, and was in no mood for her errand, had admitted
+him somewhat churlishly.
+
+"Yes, the mistress and the young ladies were in; and would he step
+into the parlor, as her hands were full?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I know the way," Mr. Drummond had returned, quite undaunted
+by the old woman's sour looks.
+
+But the parlor was empty, save for Laddie, who had been shut up there
+not to spoil sport, and who was whining most piteously to be let out.
+He saluted Archie with a joyous bark, and commenced licking his boots
+and wagging his tail with mute petition to be released from this
+durance vile.
+
+Archie patted and fondled him, for he was good to all dumb creatures.
+
+"Poor little fellow! I wonder why they have shut you up here?" he
+said; and then he took him up in his arms, and stepped to the window
+to reconnoitre.
+
+And then he stood and looked, perfectly fascinated by the novel sight.
+His sisters played battledore and shuttlecock in the school-room
+sometimes, or out in the passages on a winter's afternoon. He had once
+caught Susie and Clara at it, and had laughed at them in no measured
+terms for indulging in such a babyish game. "I should have thought
+Dottie might have played at that," he had said, rather contemptuously.
+"I suppose you indulge in skipping-ropes sometimes." And the poor
+girls had paused in their game, feeling ashamed of themselves. Archie
+would think them such hoydens.
+
+He remembered his reprimand with a strange feeling of compunction, as
+he stood by the window trying vainly to elude Laddie's caresses. What
+a shame of him to have spoiled those poor children's game with his
+sneer, when they had so little fun in their lives! and yet, as he
+recalled Clara's clumsy gestures and Susie's short-sighted attempts,
+he was obliged to confess that battledore and shuttlecock wore a
+different aspect now. Could anything surpass Phillis's swift-handed
+movements, brisk, graceful, alert, or Nan's attitude, as she sustained
+the duel? Dulce, who seemed dodging in between them in a most
+eccentric way, had her hair loose as usual, curling in brown lengths
+about her shoulders. She held it with one hand, as she poised her
+battledore with the other. This time Archie thought of Nausicaa and
+her maidens tossing the ball beside the river, after washing the
+wedding-garments. Was it in this way the young dressmakers disported
+themselves during the evenings?
+
+It was Phillis who first discovered the intruder. The shuttlecocks had
+become entangled, and fallen to the ground. As she stooped to pick
+them up, her quick eyes detected a coat-sleeve at the window; and an
+indefinable instinct, for she could not see his face, made her call
+out,--
+
+"Mother, Mr. Drummond is in the parlor. Do go to him, while Dulce puts
+up her hair." And then she said, severely, "I always tell you not to
+wear your hair like that, Dulce. Look at Nan and me; we are quite
+unruffled; but yours is always coming down. If you have pretty hair,
+you need not call people's attention to it in this way." At which
+speech Dulce tossed her head and ran away, too much offended to
+answer.
+
+When Archie saw Mrs. Challoner crossing the lawn with the gait of a
+queen, he knew he was discovered: so he opened the window, and stepped
+out in the coolest possible way.
+
+"I seem always spoiling sport," he said, with a mischievous glance at
+Phillis, which she received with outward coolness and an inward
+twinge. "Bravo, Atalanta!" sounded in her ears again. "Your maid
+invited me in; but I did not care to disturb you."
+
+"I am glad you did not open the window before," returned Nan, speaking
+with that directness and fine simplicity that always put things to
+rights at once: "it would have startled us before we got to the five
+hundred, and then Phillis would have been disappointed. Mother, shall
+we bring out some more chairs instead of going into the parlor? It is
+so much pleasanter out here." And as Mrs. Challoner assented, they
+were soon comfortably established on the tiny lawn; and Archie, very
+much at his ease, and feeling himself unaccountably happy, proceeded
+to deliver some trifling message from his sister, that was his
+ostensible reason for his intrusion.
+
+"Why does she not deliver her messages herself?" thought Phillis; but
+she kept this remark to herself. Only, that evening she watched the
+young clergyman a little closely, as though he puzzled her. Phillis
+was the man of the family; and it was she who always stood upon guard
+if Nan or Dulce needed a sentinel. She was beginning to think Mr.
+Drummond came very often to see them, considering their short
+acquaintance. If it were Miss Mattie, now, who ran in and out with
+little offerings of flowers and fruit in a nice neighborly fashion!
+But for this very dignified young man to burden himself with these
+slight feminine messages,--a question about new-laid eggs, which even
+Nan had forgotten.
+
+Phillis was quite glad when her mother said,--
+
+"You ought to have brought your sister, Mr. Drummond: she must be so
+dull all alone,"--forgetting all about the dressmaking, poor soul! but
+Phillis remembered it a moment afterwards, with a rush of bitter
+feeling.
+
+Perhaps, after all, that was why he came in so often, because he was
+so sorry for them, and wished to help them, as he said. A clergyman
+has more privileges than other men: perhaps she was wrong to suspect
+him. He might not wish his sister to visit them, except in a purely
+business-like way; but with him it was different. Most likely he had
+tea with Mrs. Trimmings sometimes, just to show he was not proud; he
+might even sit and chat with Mrs. Squails, and not feel compromised in
+the least. Oh, yes! how stupid she was to think he admired Nan,
+because she had intercepted a certain glance! That was her mania,
+thinking every one must be after Nan. Things were different now.
+
+Of course he would be their only link with civilized society,--the
+only cultivated mind with which they could hold converse; and here
+Phillis ceased to curl her lip, and her gray eyes took a sombre
+shade, and she sighed so audibly that Archie broke off an interesting
+discussion on last Commemoration, and looked at her in unfeigned
+surprise.
+
+"Oh, yes! we were there," returned Nan, innocently, who loved to talk
+of those dear old times; "and we were at the _fête_ at Oriel, and at
+the concert at Magdalen also. Ah! do you remember, Dulce?" And then
+she faltered a little, and flushed,--not because Mr. Drummond was
+looking at her so intently but at certain thoughts that began to
+intrude themselves, which entwined themselves with the moonlighted
+cloisters.
+
+"I was to have been there too, only at the last moment I was
+prevented," replied Archie; but his tone was inexplicable to the girl,
+it was at once so regretful and awe-struck. Good heavens! if he had
+met them, and been introduced to them in proper form! They had
+mentioned a Mr. Hamilton: well, Hamilton had been a pupil of his; he
+had coached him during a term. "You know Hamilton?" he had said,
+staring at her; and then he wondered what Hamilton would say if he
+came down to stay with him next vacation.
+
+These reflections made him rather absent; and even when he took his
+leave, which was not until the falling dews and the glimmer of a late
+dusk drove Mrs. Challoner into the house, these thoughts still pursued
+him. Nothing else seemed to have taken so strong a hold on him as
+this.
+
+"Good heavens!" he kept repeating to himself, "to think that the
+merest chance--just the incidental business of a friend--prevented me
+from occupying my old rooms during Commemoration! to think I might
+have met them in company with Hamilton and the other fellows!"
+
+The sudden sense of disappointment, of something lost and irremediable
+in his life, of wasted opportunities, of denied pleasure, came over
+the young man's mind. He could not have danced with Nan at the
+University ball, it is true: clergymen, according to his creed, must
+not dance. But there was the _fête_ at Oriel, and the Magdalen
+concert, and the Long Walk in the Christchurch meadows, and doubtless
+other opportunities.
+
+He never asked himself if these girls would have interested him so
+much if he had met them first in ordinary society: from the very first
+moment they had attracted him strangely. Had he only known them a
+fortnight? Good heavens! it seemed months, years, a lifetime! These
+revolutions of mind are not to be measured by time. It had come to
+this that the late fellow of Oriel, so aristocratic in his tastes, so
+temperate in his likings, had entered certain devious paths, where
+hidden pitfalls and thorny enclosures warn the unwary traveller of
+unknown dangers, and in which he was walking, not blindfold, but by
+strongest will and intent, led by impulse like a mere boy, and not
+daring to raise his eyes to the future. "And what Grace would have
+said!" And for the first time in his life Archie felt that in this
+case he could not ask Grace's advice. He was loath to turn in at his
+own gate; but Mattie was standing there watching for him. She ran out
+into the road to meet him, and then he could see there were letters in
+her hand.
+
+"Oh, dear, Archie, I thought you were never coming home!" she
+exclaimed. "And I have such news to tell you! There is a letter for
+you from Grace, and mother has written to me; and there is a note from
+Isabel inside, and she is engaged--really and truly engaged--to Mr.
+Ellis Burton; and the wedding is to be in six weeks, and you and I are
+to go down to it, and--oh, dear----" Here Mattie broke down, and began
+to sob with excitement and pleasure and the longing for sympathy.
+
+"Well, well, there is nothing to cry about!" returned Archie, roughly;
+and then his manner changed and softened in spite of himself; for
+after all, Isabel was his sister, and this was the first wedding in
+the family, and he could not hear such a piece of news unmoved. "Let
+me hear all about it," he said, by and by; and then he took poor
+hysterical little Mattie into the house, and gave her some wine, and
+was very kind to her, and listened to his mother's letter and Isabel's
+gushing effusion without a single sneer. "Poor little Belle; she does
+seem very happy!" he said, quite affectionately, as he turned up the
+lamp still more, and began Grace's letter.
+
+Mattie sat and gazed at him in a sort of ecstasy; but she did not
+venture to ask him to read it to her. How nice he was to-night, and
+how handsome he looked! there never was such a brother as Archie. But
+suddenly, as though he was conscious of being watched, he sat down by
+the table, and shaded his face with his hand.
+
+No, Mattie, was right in her surmise: he would not have cared to show
+that letter to any one.
+
+The first sheet was all about Isabel. "Dear little Isabel has just
+left me," wrote Grace. "The child looks so pretty in her new
+happiness, you would hardly know her. She has just been showing me the
+magnificent hoop of diamonds Ellis has given her. She says we must all
+call him Ellis now. 'Chacun a son gout:' Poor Ellis is not very
+brilliant, certainly: I remember we used to call him clownish and
+uncultivated. But he has a good heart, and he is really very fond of
+Isabel; and as she is satisfied, I suppose we need not doubt the
+wisdom of her choice. Mother is radiant, and makes so much of the
+little bride-elect that she declares her head is quite turned. The
+house is quite topsy-turvy with the excitement of this first wedding
+in the family. Isabel is very young to be married, and I tell mother
+six weeks is far too short for an engagement; but it seems Ellis will
+not listen to reason, and he has talked mother over. Perhaps I am
+rather fastidious, but, if I were Isabel, I should hate to receive my
+trousseau from my lover; and yet Ellis wants his mother to get
+everything for his _fiancee_. I believe there is to be a sort of
+compromise, and Mrs. Burton is to select heaps of pretty
+things,--dresses and mantles and Paris bonnets. They are rolling in
+riches. Ellis has taken a large house in Sloane Square, and his father
+has bought him a landau and a splendid pair of horses;
+everything--furniture, plate and ornaments--is to be as massive and
+expensive as possible. If I were Isabel I should feel smothered by all
+these grand things but the little lady takes it all quite coolly.
+
+"When I get a moment to myself I sit down and say, 'In six weeks I
+shall see Archie!' Oh, my darling! this is almost too good news to be
+true! Only six weeks, and then I shall really see you! Now do you
+know, I am longing for a good clearing-up talk? for your letters
+lately have not satisfied me at all. Perhaps I am growing fanciful,
+but I cannot help feeling as though something has come between us. The
+current of sympathy seems turned aside, somehow. No, do not laugh, or
+put me off with a jest, for I am really in earnest; and but for fear
+of your scolding me I should own to being just a little unhappy.
+Forgive me, Archie, if I vex you; but there is something, I am
+thoroughly convinced of that. You have some new interest or worry that
+you are keeping from me. Is this quite in accordance with our old
+compact, dear? Who are these Challoners Mattie mentions in her
+letters? She told me a strange rigmarole about them the other
+day,--that they were young ladies who had turned dressmakers. What an
+eccentric idea! They must be very odd young ladies, I should think, to
+emancipate themselves so completely from all conventionalities. I wish
+they had not established themselves at Hadleigh and so near the
+vicarage. Mattie says you are so kind to them. Oh, Archie! dear
+brother! do be careful! I do not half like the idea of these girls;
+they sound rash and designing, and you are so chivalrous in your
+notions. Why not let Mattie be kind to them instead of you? In a
+parish like Hadleigh you need to be careful. Mother is calling me, so
+I will just close this with my fondest love.
+
+                                                              "GRACE."
+
+Archie threw down the letter with a frown. For the first time he was
+annoyed with Grace.
+
+Nan and her sisters rash and designing! "Odd young ladies"! She was
+sorry they had established themselves at Hadleigh! It was really too
+bad of Grace to condemn them in this fashion. But of course it must be
+Mattie's fault: she had written a pack of nonsense, exaggerating
+things as much as possible.
+
+Poor Mattie would have had to bear the brunt of his wrath as usual,
+only, as he turned to her with the frown black on his forehead, his
+eyes caught sight of her dress. Hitherto the room had been very dimly
+lighted; but now, as he looked at her in the soft lamplight, his anger
+vanished in amazement.
+
+"Why, Mattie, what have you done to yourself? We are not expecting
+company this evening: it is nearly ten o'clock."
+
+Mattie blushed and laughed, and then she actually bridled with
+pleasure:
+
+"Oh, no, Archie; of course not. I only put on my new dress just to see
+how it would fit; and then I thought you might like to see it. It is
+the one uncle gave me; and is it not beautifully made? I am sure Mrs.
+Cheyne's dresses never fit better. You and Grace may say what you like
+about the Challoners, but if they can make dresses like this, it would
+be tempting Providence not to use such a talent, and just because they
+were too fine ladies to work."
+
+"I do believe you are right, Mattie," returned Archie, in a low voice.
+"Turn round and let me look at you, girl. Do you mean--that she--that
+they made that?"
+
+Mattie nodded as she slowly pivoted on one foot, and then revolved
+like the figures one used to see on old-fashioned barrel-organs; then,
+as she stood still, she panted out the words,--
+
+"Is it not just lovely, Archie?" for in all the thirty years of her
+unassuming life Mattie had never had such a dress, so no wonder her
+head was a little turned.
+
+"Yes, indeed; I like it excessively," was Archie's comment; and then
+he added, with the delicious frankness common to brothers, "It makes
+you look quite a different person, Mattie: you are almost nice-looking
+to-night."
+
+"Oh, thank you, dear!" cried poor Mattie, quite moved by this
+compliment; for if Archie thought her almost nice-looking he must be
+pleased with her. Indeed, she even ventured to raise herself on tiptoe
+and kiss him in gratitude, which was taking a great liberty; only
+Archie bore it for once.
+
+"She really looked very well, poor little woman!" thought Archie, when
+Mattie had at last exhausted her raptures and bidden him good-night.
+"She would not be half so bad-looking if some one would take her in
+hand and dress her properly. The women must be right, after all, and
+there is a power in dress. Those girls do nothing by halves," he
+continued, walking up and down the room. "I would not have believed
+they had made it, if Mattie had not told me. 'Rash and designing,'
+indeed! just because they are not like other girls,--because they are
+more natural, more industrious, more courageous, more religious in
+fact." And then the young clergyman softly quoted to himself the words
+of the wise old king, words that Nan and her sisters had ever loved
+and sought to practise:
+
+"Whatsoever thy hands findeth to do, do it with thy might."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+"OH, YOU ARE PROUD!"
+
+
+On the following Monday morning, Nan said in rather a curious voice to
+Phillis,--
+
+"If no customers call to-day, our work-room will be empty. I wonder
+what we shall do with ourselves?"
+
+To which Phillis replied, without a moment's hesitation,--
+
+"We will go down and bathe, and Dulce and I will have a
+swimming-match; and after that we will sit on the beach and quiz the
+people. Most likely there will be a troupe of colored minstrels on the
+Parade, and that will be fun."
+
+"Oh, I hope no one will come!" observed Dulce, overjoyed at the idea
+of a holiday; but, seeing Nan's face was full of rebuke at this
+outburst of frivolity, she said no more.
+
+It was decided at last that they should wait for an hour to see if any
+orders arrived, and after that they would consider themselves at
+liberty to amuse themselves for the remainder of the day. But, alas
+for Dulce's hopes! long before the appointed hour had expired, the
+gate-bell rang, and Miss Drummond made her appearance with a large
+paper parcel, which she deposited on the table with a radiant face.
+
+The story was soon told. Her silk dress was such a success, and dear
+Archie was so charmed with it--here Mattie, with a blush, deposited a
+neatly-sealed little packet in Nan's hand--that he had actually
+proposed that she should have another gown made after the same pattern
+for every-day wear. And he had taken her himself directly after
+breakfast down to Mordant's, and had chosen her this dress. He had
+never done such a thing before, even for Grace: so no wonder Mattie
+was in the seventh heaven of delight.
+
+"It is very pretty," observed Nan, critically: "your brother has good
+taste." Which speech was of course retailed to Archie.
+
+Mattie had only just left the cottage, when another customer appeared
+in the person of Miss Middleton.
+
+Nan, who had just begun her cutting-out, met her with a pleased glance
+of recognition, and then, remembering her errand, bowed rather
+gravely. But Miss Middleton, after a moment's hesitation, held out her
+hand.
+
+She had not been able to make up her mind about these girls. Her
+father's shocked sense of decorum, and her own old-fashioned
+gentlewoman's idea, had raised certain difficulties in her mind, which
+she had found it hard to overcome. "Recollect, Elizabeth, I will not
+have those girls brought here," the colonel had said to her that very
+morning. "They may be all very well in their way, but I have changed
+my opinion of them. There's poor Drummond: now mark my words, there
+will be trouble by and by in that quarter." For Colonel Middleton had
+groaned in spirit ever since the morning he had seen the young vicar
+walking with Phillis down the Braidwood Road, when she was carrying
+Mrs. Trimmings's dress. Elizabeth answered this gentle protest by one
+of her gentle smiles. "Very well, dear father: I will ask no one to
+Brooklyn against your wish, you may be sure of that; but I suppose
+they may make my new dress? Mattie's has been such a success; they
+certainly understand their business."
+
+"You have a right to select your own dressmaker, Elizabeth," returned
+the colonel, with a frigid wave of his hand, for he had not got over
+his disappointment about the girls. "I only warn you because you are
+very quixotic in your notions; but we must take the world as we find
+it, and make the best of it; and there is your brother coming home by
+and by. We must be careful, for Hammond's sake." And, as Elizabeth's
+good sense owned the justice of her father's remark, there was nothing
+more said on the subject.
+
+But it was not without a feeling of embarrassment that Miss Middleton
+entered the cottage: her great heart was yearning over these girls,
+whom she was compelled to keep at a distance. True, her father was
+right, Hammond was coming home, and a young officer of
+seven-and-twenty was not to be trusted where three pretty girls were
+concerned: it would never do to invite them to Brooklyn or to make too
+much of them. Miss Middleton had ranged herself completely on her
+father's side, but at the sight of Nan's sweet face and her grave
+little bow she forgot all her prudent resolutions, and her hand was
+held out as though to an equal.
+
+"I have come to ask you if you will be good enough to make me a
+dress," she said, with a charming smile. "You have succeeded so well
+with Miss Drummond that I cannot help wishing to have one too." And
+when she had said this she looked quietly round her, and surveyed the
+pretty work-room, and Dulce sitting at the sewing-machine, and lastly
+Phillis's bright, intelligent face, as she stood by the table turning
+over some fashion-books.
+
+At that moment Mrs. Challoner entered the room with her little
+work-basket, and placed herself at the other window. Miss Middleton
+began talking to her at once, while Nan measured and pinned.
+
+"I don't think I ever spent a pleasanter half-hour," she told her
+father afterwards. "Mattie was right in what she said: they have made
+the work-room perfectly lovely with pictures and old china: and
+nothing could be nicer than their manners,--so simple and unassuming,
+yet with a touch of independence too."
+
+"And the old lady?" inquired the colonel, maliciously, for he had seen
+Mrs. Challoner in church, and knew better than to speak of her so
+disrespectfully.
+
+"Old lady, father! why, she is not old at all. She is an exceedingly
+pleasing person, only a little stately in her manner; one would not
+venture to take a liberty with her. We had such a nice talk while the
+eldest daughter was fitting me. Is it not strange, father dear, that
+they know the Paines? and Mrs. Sartoris is an old acquaintance of
+theirs. I think they were a little sorry when they heard we knew them
+too, for the second girl colored up so when I said Adelaide was your
+goddaughter."
+
+"Humph? we will have Adelaide down here, and hear all about them,"
+responded her father, briskly.
+
+"Well, I don't know; I am afraid that would be painful to them, under
+their changed circumstances. Just as we were talking about Adelaide,
+Miss Mewlstone came in; and then they were so busy that I did not like
+to stay any longer. Ah, there is Mr. Drummond coming to interrupt us,
+as usual."
+
+And then the colonel retailed all this for Archie's benefit. He had
+come in to glean a crumb or two of intelligence, if he could, about
+the Challoners' movements, and the colonel's garrulity furnished him
+with a rich harvest.
+
+Phillis had taken Miss Mewlstone in hand at once in the intervals of
+business: she had inquired casually after Mrs. Cheyne's injured
+ankle.
+
+"It is going on well: she can stand now," returned Miss Mewlstone.
+"The confinement has been very trying for her, poor thing, and she
+looks sadly the worse for it. Don't take out those pins, my dear: what
+is the good of taking so much pains with a fat old thing like me and
+pricking your pretty fingers? Well, she is always asking me if I have
+seen any of you when I come home."
+
+"Mrs. Cheyne asks after us!" exclaimed Phillis, in a tone of
+astonishment.
+
+"Ah, just so. She has not forgotten you. Magdalene never forgets any
+one in whom she takes interest; not that she likes many people, poor
+dear! but then so few understand her. They will not believe that it is
+all on the surface, and that there is a good heart underneath."
+
+"You call her Magdalene," observed Phillis, rather curiously, looking
+up into Miss Mewlstone's placid face.
+
+"Ah, just so; I forgot. You see, I knew her as a child,--oh, such a
+wee toddling mite! younger than dear little Janie. I remember her just
+as though it were yesterday; the loveliest little creature,--prettier
+even than Janie!"
+
+"Was Janie the child who died?"
+
+"Yes, the darling! She was just three years old; a perfect angel of a
+child! and Bertie was a year older. Poor Magdalene! it is no wonder
+she is as she is,--no husband and children! When she sent for me I
+came at once, though I knew how it would be."
+
+"You knew how it would be?" repeated Phillis, in a questioning voice,
+for Miss Mewlstone had come to a full stop here. She looked a little
+confused at this repetition of her words.
+
+"Oh, just so--just so. Thank you, my dear. You have done that
+beautifully, I am sure. Never mind what an old woman says. When people
+are in trouble like that, they are often ill to live with. Magdalene
+has her moods; so have we all, my dear, though you are too young to
+know that; but no one understands her better than her old Bathsheba;
+that is my name, and a funny old name too, is it not?" continued Miss
+Mewlstone, blinking at Phillis with her little blue eyes. "The worst
+of having such a name is that no one will use it; even father and
+mother called me Barby, as Magdalene does sometimes still."
+
+Bathsheba Mewlstone! Phillis's lip curled with suppressed amusement.
+What a droll old thing she was! and yet she liked her, somehow.
+
+"If she takes it into her head to come and see you, you will try and
+put up with her sharp speeches?" continued Miss Mewlstone, a little
+anxiously, as she tied on her bonnet. "Mr. Drummond does not
+understand her at all: and I will not deny that she is hard on the
+poor young man, and makes fun of him a bit; but, bless you, it is only
+her way! She torments herself and other people, just because time will
+not pass quickly enough and let her forget. If we had children
+ourselves we should understand it better, and how in Ramah there must
+be lamentation," finished Miss Mewlstone, with a vague and peculiar
+reference to the martyred innocents which was rather inexplicable to
+Phillis, as in this case there was certainly no Herod, but an ordinary
+visitation of Providence; but then she did not know that Miss
+Mewlstone was often a little vague.
+
+After this hint, Phillis was not greatly surprised when, one morning,
+a pair of gray ponies stopped before the Friary, and Mrs. Cheyne's
+tall figure came slowly up the flagged path.
+
+It must be owned that Phillis's first feelings were not wholly
+pleasurable. Nan had gone out: an invalid lady staying at Seaview
+Cottage had sent for a dressmaker rather hurriedly, and Miss Milner
+had of course recommended them. Nan had gone at once, and, as Dulce
+looked pale, she had taken her with her for a walk. They might not be
+back for another hour; and a _tete-a-tete_ with Mrs. Cheyne after
+their last interview was rather formidable.
+
+Dorothy preceded her with a parcel, which she deposited rather
+gingerly on the table. As Mrs. Cheyne entered the room she looked at
+Phillis in a cool, off-hand manner.
+
+"I am come on business," she said with a little nod. "How do you do,
+Miss Challoner? You are looking rather pale, I think." And then her
+keen glance travelled round the room.
+
+The girl flushed a little over this abruptness, but she did not lose
+her courage.
+
+"Is this the dress?" she asked, opening the parcel; but her fingers
+would tremble a little, in spite of her will. And then, as the rich
+folds of the black brocade came into view, she asked, in a
+business-like tone, in what style Mrs. Cheyne would wish it made, and
+how soon she required it. To all of which Mrs. Cheyne responded in the
+same dry, curt manner; and then the usual process of fitting began.
+
+Never had her task seemed so tedious and distasteful to Phillis. Even
+Mrs. Trimmings was preferable to this: she hardly ventured to raise
+her eyes, for fear of meeting Mrs. Cheyne's cold, satirical glance;
+and yet all the time she knew she was being watched. Mrs. Cheyne's
+vigilant silence meant something.
+
+If only her mother would come in! but she was shelling peas for
+Dorothy. To think Nan should have failed her on such an occasion! even
+Dulce would have been a comfort, though she was so easily frightened.
+She started almost nervously when Mrs. Cheyne at last broke the
+silence:
+
+"Yes, you are decidedly paler,--a little thinner, I think, and that
+after only a fortnight's work."
+
+Phillis looked up a little indignantly at this; but she found Mrs.
+Cheyne was regarding her not unkindly.
+
+"I am well enough," she returned, rather ungraciously; "but we are not
+used to so much confinement and the weather is hot. We shall grow
+accustomed to it in time."
+
+"You think restlessness is so easily subdued?" with a sneer.
+
+"No; but I believe it can be controlled," replied poor Phillis, who
+suffered more than any one guessed from this restraint on her sweet
+freedom.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne was right: even in this short time she was certainly paler
+and thinner.
+
+"You mean to persevere, then, in your moral suicide?"
+
+"We mean to persevere in our duty," corrected Phillis, as she pinned
+up a sleeve.
+
+"Rather a high moral tone for a dressmaker to take: don't you think
+so?" returned Mrs. Cheyne, in the voice Archie hated. The woman
+certainly had a double nature: there was a twist in her somewhere.
+
+This was too much for Phillis: she fired up in a moment.
+
+"Why should not dressmakers take a high moral tone? You make me feel
+glad I am one when you talk like that. This is our ambition,--Nan's
+and mine, for Dulce is too young to think much about it,--to show by
+our example that there is no degradation in work. Oh, it is hard!
+First Mr. Drummond comes, and talks to us as though we were doing
+wrong; and, then you, to cry down our honest labor, and call it
+suicide! Is it suicide to work with these hands, that God has made
+clever, for my mother?" cried Phillis; and her great gray eyes filled
+up with sudden tears.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne did not look displeased at the girl's outburst. If she had
+led up to this point, she could not have received it more calmly.
+
+"There, there! you need not excite yourself, child!" she said, more
+gently. "I only wanted to know what you would say. So Miss Mewlstone
+has been to you, I hear?--and Miss Middleton, too? but that's her
+benevolence. Of course Miss Mattie comes out of curiosity. How I do
+detest a fussy woman, with a tongue that chatters faster than a
+purling brook! What do you say? No harm in her?" for Phillis had
+muttered something to this effect. "Oh, that is negative praise! I
+like people to have a little harm in them: it is so much more
+amusing."
+
+"I cannot say I am of your opinion," returned Phillis, coldly: she was
+rather ashamed of her fit of enthusiasm, and cross in consequence.
+
+"My dear, I always thought Lucifer must have been rather an
+interesting person." Then, as Phillis looked scandalized, and drew
+herself up, she said, in a funny voice, "Now, don't tell your mother
+what I said, or she will think me an improper character; and I want to
+be introduced to her."
+
+"You want to be introduced to my mother!" Phillis could hardly believe
+her ears. Certainly Mrs. Cheyne was a most inexplicable person.
+
+"Dressmakers don't often have mothers, do they?" returned Mrs. Cheyne,
+with a laugh; "at least, they are never on view. I suppose they are in
+the back premises doing something?"
+
+"Shelling peas, for example," replied Phillis, roused to mischief by
+this: "that is mother's work this morning. Dorothy is old and
+single-handed, and needs all the help we can give her. Oh, yes! I will
+take you to her at once."
+
+"Indeed you must not, if it will inconvenience her!" returned Mrs.
+Cheyne, drawing back a little at this. She was full of curiosity to
+see the mother of these singular girls, but she did not wish to have
+her illusion too roughly dispelled; and the notion of Mrs. Challoner's
+homely employment grated a little on the feelings of the fine lady who
+had never done anything useful in her life.
+
+"Oh, nothing puts mother out!" returned Phillis, in an indifferent
+tone. The old spirit of fun was waking up in her, and she led the way
+promptly to the parlor.
+
+"Mother, Mrs. Cheyne wishes to see you," she announced, in a most
+matter-of-fact voice, as though that lady were a daily visitor.
+
+Mrs. Challoner looked up in a little surprise. One of Dorothy's rough
+aprons was tied over her nice black gown, and the yellow earthenware
+bowl was on her lap. Phillis took up some of the green pods, and began
+playing with them.
+
+"Will you excuse my rising?--you see my employment," observed Mrs.
+Challoner, with a smile that was almost as charming as Nan's; and she
+held out a white soft hand to her visitor.
+
+The perfect ease of her manner, the absence of all flurry, produced an
+instant effect on Mrs. Cheyne. For a moment she stood as though at a
+loss to explain her intrusion; but the next minute one of her rare
+sunshiny smiles crossed her face:
+
+"I must seem impertinent; but your daughters have interested me so
+much that I was anxious to see their mother. But I ought to apologize
+for disturbing you so early."
+
+"Not at all; all hours are the same to me. We are always glad to see
+our friends: are we not, Phillis? My dear, I wish you would carry
+these away to Dorothy and ask her to finish them."
+
+"Oh, no! pray do nothing of the kind," returned Mrs. Cheyne, eagerly.
+"You must not punish me in this way. Let me help you. Indeed, I am
+sure I can, if I only tried." And, to Phillis's intense amusement,
+Mrs. Cheyne drew off her delicate French gloves, and in another moment
+both ladies were seated close together, shelling peas into the same
+pan, and talking as though they had known each other for years.
+
+"Oh, it was too delicious!" exclaimed Phillis, when she had retailed
+this interview for Nan's and Dulce's benefit. "I knew mother would
+behave beautifully. If I had taken the Princess of Wales in to see
+her, she would not have had a word of apology for her apron, though it
+was a horrid coarse thing of Dorothy's. She would just have smiled at
+her, as she did at Mrs. Cheyne. Mother's behavior is always lovely."
+
+"Darling old mammie!" put in Dulce, rapturously, at this point.
+
+"I made some excuse and left them together, because I could see Mrs.
+Cheyne was dying to get rid of me; and I'm always amiable, and like to
+please people. Oh, it was the funniest sight, I assure you!--Mrs.
+Cheyne with her long fingers blazing with diamond rings, and the peas
+rolling down her silk dress; and mother just going on with her
+business in her quiet way. Oh, I had such a laugh when I was back in
+the work-room!"
+
+It cost Phillis some trouble to be properly demure when Mrs. Cheyne
+came into the work-room some time afterwards in search of her. Perhaps
+her mischievous eyes betrayed her, for Mrs. Cheyne shook her head at
+her in pretended rebuke:
+
+"Ah, I see; you will persist in treating things like a comedy. Well,
+that is better than putting on tragedy airs and making yourselves
+miserable. Now I have seen your mother, I am not quite so puzzled."
+
+"Indeed!" and Phillis fixed her eyes innocently on Mrs. Cheyne's
+face.
+
+"No; but I am not going to make you vain by telling you what I think
+of her: indiscriminate praise is not wholesome. Now, when are you
+coming to see me?--that is the point in question."
+
+"Dorothy will bring home your dress on Saturday," replied Phillis, a
+little dryly. "If it requires alteration, perhaps you will let me
+know, and of course I will come up to the White House at any time."
+
+"But I do not mean to wait for that. You are misunderstanding me
+purposely, Miss Challoner. I want you to come and talk to me one
+evening,--any evening. No one but Miss Mewlstone will be there."
+
+"Oh, no!" responded Phillis, suddenly turning very red:
+
+"I do not think that would do at all, Mrs. Cheyne. I do not mean to be
+rude or ungrateful for your kindness, but--but----" Here the girl
+stammered and broke down.
+
+"You wish, then, to confine our intercourse to a purely business
+relation?" asked Mrs. Cheyne, and her voice had a tone of the old
+bitterness.
+
+"Would it not be better under the circumstances? Forgive me if I am
+too proud, but----"
+
+"Oh, you are proud, terribly proud!" returned Mrs. Cheyne, taking up
+her words before she could complete her sentence. "You owe me a grudge
+for what I said that night, and now you are making me pay the penalty.
+Well, I am not meek: there is not a human being living to whom I would
+sue for friendship. If I were starving for a kind word, I would sooner
+die than ask for one. You see, I am proud too, Miss Challoner."
+
+"Oh, I did not mean to hurt you," returned Phillis, distressed at
+this, but determined not to yield an inch or bend to the sudden
+caprice of this extraordinary woman, who had made her suffer so once.
+
+"To be hurt, one must have feelings," returned this singular person.
+"Do not be afraid, I shall not attempt to shake your resolution: if
+you come to me now it must be of your own free will."
+
+"And if I come, what then?" asked Phillis, standing very straight and
+stiff, for she would not be patronized.
+
+"If you come you will be welcome," returned Mrs. Cheyne; and then,
+with a grave inclination of the head, she swept out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+A DARK HOUR.
+
+
+"I should go one evening, if I were you: it is easy to see that Mrs.
+Cheyne has taken a fancy to you," said Nan, who was much interested by
+this recital; but to this Phillis replied, with a very decided shake
+of the head,--
+
+"I shall do nothing of the kind; I was not made to be a fine lady's
+_protegee_. If she patronized me, I should grow savage and show my
+teeth; and, as I have no desire to break the peace, we had better
+remain strangers. Dear Magdalene certainly has a temper!" finished
+Phillis, with a wicked little sneer.
+
+Nan tried to combat this resolution, and used a great many arguments:
+she was anxious that Phillis should avail herself of this sudden fancy
+on the part of Mrs. Cheyne to lift herself and perhaps all of them
+into society with their equals. Nan's good sense told her that though
+at present the novelty and excitement of their position prevented them
+from realizing the full extent of their isolation, in time it must
+weigh on them very heavily, and especially on Phillis, who was bright
+and clever and liked society; but all her words were powerless against
+Phillis's stubbornness: to the White House she could not and would not
+go.
+
+But one evening she changed her mind very suddenly, when a note from
+Miss Mewlstone reached her. A gardener's boy brought it: "it was very
+particular, and was to be delivered immediate to the young lady," he
+observed, holding the missive between a very grimy finger and thumb.
+
+"MY DEAR YOUNG LADY,--
+
+"Pride is all very well, but charity is often best in the long run,
+and a little kindness to a suffering human being is never out of place
+in a young creature like you.
+
+"Poor Magdalene has been very sadly for days, and I have got it into
+my stupid old head--that is always fancying things--that she has been
+watching for folks who have been too proud to come, though she would
+die sooner than tell me so; but that is her way, poor dear!
+
+"It is ill to wake at nights with nothing but sad thoughts for
+company, and it is ill wearing out the long days with only a silly old
+body to cheer one up; and when there is nothing fresh to say, and
+nothing to expect, and not a footstep or a voice to break the silence,
+then it seems to me that a young voice--that is, a kind voice--would
+be welcome. Take this hint, my dear, and keep my counsel, for I am
+only a silly old woman, as she often says.
+
+                                                       "Yours,
+                                                 Bathsheba Mewlstone."
+
+"Oh, I must go now!" observed Phillis, in an embarrassed voice, as she
+laid this singular note before Nan.
+
+"Yes, dear; and you had better put on your hat at once, and Dulce and
+I will walk with you as far as the gate. It is sad for you to miss the
+scramble on the shore; but, when other people really want us, I feel
+as though it were a direct call," finished Nan, solemnly.
+
+"I am afraid there is a storm coming up," replied Phillis, who had
+been oppressed all day by the heavy thundery atmosphere: she had
+looked so heated and weary that Nan had proposed a walk by the shore.
+Work was pouring upon them from all sides: the townspeople, envious of
+Mrs. Trimmings's stylish new dress, were besieging the Friary with
+orders, and the young dressmakers would have been literally
+overwhelmed with their labors, only that Nan, with admirable
+foresight, insisted on taking in no more work than they felt
+themselves able to complete.
+
+"No," she would say to some disappointed customer, "our hands are full
+just now, and we cannot undertake any more orders at present: we will
+not promise more than we can perform. Come to me again in a
+fortnight's time, and we will willingly make your dress, but now it is
+impossible." And in most cases the dress was brought punctually at the
+time appointed.
+
+Phillis used to grumble a little at this.
+
+"You ought not to refuse orders, Nan," she said, rather fretfully,
+once. "Any other dressmaker would sit up half the night rather than
+disappoint a customer."
+
+"My dear," Nan returned, in her elder-sisterly voice, which had always
+a great effect on Phillis, "I wonder what use Dulce and you would be
+if you sat up sewing half the night, and drinking strong tea to keep
+yourselves awake? No, there shall be no burning the candles at both
+ends in this fashion; please God we will keep our health, and our
+customers; and no one in their senses could call us idle. Why, we are
+quite the fashion! Mrs. Squails told me yesterday that every one in
+Hadleigh was wild to have a gown made by the 'lady dressmakers.'"
+
+"Oh, I daresay!" replied Phillis, crossly, for the poor thing was so
+hot and tired that she could have cried from pure weariness and
+vexation of spirit: "but we shall not be the fashion long when the
+novelty wears off; people will call us independent, and get tired of
+us; and no wonder, if they are to wait for their dresses in this
+way."
+
+Nan's only answer was to look at Phillis's pale face in a pitying way;
+and then she took her hand, and led her to the corner, where her
+mother's Bible always lay, and then with ready fingers turned to the
+well known-passage, "Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labor
+unto the evening."
+
+"Well, Nan, what then?"
+
+"Evening is for rest,--for refreshment of mind and body: I will not
+have it turned into a time of toil. I know you, Phillis; you would
+work till your poor fingers got thin, and your spirits were all
+flattened out, and every nerve was jarring and set on edge; and you
+would call that duty! No, darling,--never! Dulce shall keep her roses,
+and we will have battledore and shuttlecock every evening; but, if I
+have to keep the key of the work-room in my pocket, you and Dulce
+shall never enter it after tea." And Nan's good sense, as usual,
+carried the day.
+
+Phillis would much rather have joined her sisters in their walk than
+have turned in at the gloomy lodge-gates.
+
+            "'All ye who enter here, leave hope behind,'"
+
+she quoted, softly, as she waved her hand to Nan.
+
+The servant who admitted her looked a little dubious over his errand.
+
+"His mistress was in her room," he believed, "and was far too unwell
+to see visitors. He would tell Miss Mewlstone, if the young lady liked
+to wait; but he was sure it was no use,"--all very civilly said. And
+as Phillis persisted in her intention of seeing Mrs. Cheyne, if
+possible, he ushered her into the library, a gloomy-looking room, with
+closed blinds, one of which he drew up, and then went in search of
+Miss Mewlstone.
+
+Phillis did not find her surroundings particularly cheerful. The air
+was darkened by the approaching storm. A sullen cloud hung over the
+sky. The library windows opened upon the shrubberies. Here the trees
+were planted so thickly that their shade obscured much of the light.
+The room was so dark that she could only dimly discern the handsome
+bindings of the books in the carved oak book-cases. The whole of the
+furniture seemed sombre and massive. The chair that the footman had
+placed for her was covered with violet velvet, and was in harmony with
+the rest of the furniture.
+
+Dreary as the room looked, it was nothing to the shrubbery walk. A
+narrow winding path seemed to vanish into utter darkness. In some
+places the trees met overhead, so closely had they grown.
+
+"If I were the mistress of the White House," Phillis said to herself,
+"I would cut every one of those trees down. They must make this part
+of the house quite unhealthy. It really looks like a 'ghost walk' that
+one reads about." But scarcely had these thoughts passed through her
+mind when she uttered a faint cry of alarm. The dark room, the
+impending storm, and her own overwrought feelings were making her
+nervous; but actually, through the gloom, she could see a figure in
+white approaching.
+
+In another moment she would have sought refuge in the hall, but
+contempt at her own cowardice kept her rooted to the spot.
+
+"She was an utter goose to be so startled! It was--yes, of course it
+was Mrs. Cheyne. She could see her more plainly now. She would step
+through the window and meet her."
+
+Phillis's feelings of uneasiness had not quite vanished. The obscurity
+was confusing, and invested everything with an unnatural effect. Even
+Mrs. Cheyne's figure, coming out from the dark background, seemed
+strange and unfamiliar. Phillis had always before seen her in black;
+but now she wore a white gown, fashioned loosely, like a wrapper, and
+her hair, which at other times had been most carefully arranged, was
+now strained tightly and unbecomingly from her face, which looked
+pallid and drawn. She started violently when she saw Phillis coming
+towards her, and seemed inclined to draw back and retrace her steps.
+It evidently cost her a strong effort to recover herself. She seemed
+to conquer her reluctance with difficulty.
+
+"So you have come at last, Miss Challoner," she said, fixing her eyes,
+which looked unnaturally bright, on Phillis. Her voice was cold,
+almost harsh, and her countenance expressed no pleasure. The hand she
+held out was so limp and cold that Phillis relinquished it hastily.
+
+"You said that I should be welcome," she faltered, and trying not to
+appear alarmed. She was too young and healthy to understand the
+meaning of the word hysteria, or to guess at the existence of nervous
+maladies that make some people's lives a long torment to them.
+Nevertheless, Mrs. Cheyne's singular aspect filled her with vague
+fear. It did not enter into her mind to connect the coming storm with
+Mrs. Cheyne's condition, until she hinted at it herself.
+
+"Oh, yes, you are welcome," she responded, wearily. "I have looked for
+you evening after evening, but you chose to come with the storm. It is
+a pity, perhaps; but then you did not know!"
+
+"What would you have me know?" asked Phillis, timidly.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne shrugged her shoulders a little flightily.
+
+"Oh, you are young!" she returned; "you do not understand what nerves
+mean; you sleep sweetly of a night, and have no bad dreams: it does
+not matter to you happy people if the air is full of sunshine or
+surcharged with electricity. For me, when the sun ceases to shine I am
+in despair. Fogs find me brooding. An impending storm suffocates me,
+and yet tears me to pieces with restlessness: it drives me hither and
+thither like a fallen leaf. I tire myself that I may sleep, and yet I
+stare open-eyed for hours together into the darkness. I wonder
+sometimes I do not go mad. But there! let us walk--let us walk." And
+she made a movement to retrace her steps; but Phillis, with a courage
+for which she commended herself afterwards, pulled her back by her
+hanging sleeves.
+
+"Oh, not there! it is not good for any one who is sad to walk in that
+dark place. No wonder your thoughts are sombre. Look! the heavy
+rain-drops are pattering among the leaves. I do not care to get wet:
+let us go back to the house."
+
+"Pshaw! what does it matter getting wet?" she returned, with a little
+scorn; but nevertheless she suffered Phillis to take her arm and draw
+her gently towards the house. Only as they came near the library
+window, she pointed to it indignantly. "Who has dared to enter that
+room, or open the window! Have I not forbidden over and over again
+that that room should be used? Do you think," she continued, in the
+same excited way, "that I would enter that room to-night of all
+nights! Why, I should hear his angry voice pealing in every corner!
+It was a good room for echoes; and he could speak loudly if he chose.
+Come away! there is a door I always use that leads to my private
+apartments. I am no recluse; but in these moods I do not care to show
+myself to people. If you are not afraid, you may come with me, unless
+you prefer Miss Mewlstone's company."
+
+"I would rather go with you," returned Phillis, gently. She could not
+in truth say she was not afraid; but all the same she must try and
+soothe the poor creature who was evidently enduring such torments of
+mind: so she followed in silence up the broad oak staircase.
+
+A green-baize door admitted them into a long and somewhat narrow
+corridor, lighted up by a row of high narrow windows set prettily with
+flower-boxes. Here there were several doors. Mrs. Cheyne paused before
+one a moment.
+
+"Look here! you shall see the mysteries of the west wing. This is my
+world; downstairs I am a different creature--taciturn, harsh, and
+prone to sarcasm. Ask Mr. Drummond what he thinks of me; but I never
+could endure a good young man--especially that delicious compound of
+the worldling and the saint--like the Reverend Archibald. See here, my
+dear: here I am never captious or say naughty things!"
+
+She threw open the door, and softly beckoned to Phillis to enter. It
+was a large empty room,--evidently a nursery. Some canaries were
+twittering faintly in a gilded cage. There were flowers in the two
+windows, and in the vases on the table: evidently some loving hands
+had arranged them that very morning. A large rocking-horse occupied
+the centre of the floor: a doll lay with its face downwards on the
+crimson carpet; a pile of wooden soldiers strutted on their zigzag
+platform,--one or two had fallen off; a torn picture-book had been
+flung beside them.
+
+"That was my Janie's picture-book," said Mrs. Cheyne, mournfully: "she
+was teaching her doll out of it just before she was taken ill. Nothing
+was touched; by a sort of inspiration,--a foreboding,--I do not know
+what,--I bade nurse leave the toys as they were. 'It is only an
+interrupted game: let the darlings find their toys as they put them,'
+I said to her that morning. Look at the soldiers, Bertie was always
+for soldiers,--bless him!"
+
+Her manner had grown calmer; and she spoke with such touching
+tenderness that tears came to Phillis's eyes. But Mrs. Cheyne never
+once looked at the girl; she lingered by the table a moment, adjusting
+a leaf here and a bud there in the bouquets, and then she opened an
+inner door leading to the night-nursery. Here the associations were
+still more harrowing. The cots stood side by side under a muslin
+canopy, with an alabaster angel between them; the little night-dresses
+lay folded on the pillows; on each quilt were the scarlet
+dressing-gown and the pair of tiny slippers; the clothes were piled
+neatly on two chairs,--a boy's velvet tunic on one, a girl's white
+frock, a little limp and discolored, hung over the rails of the
+other.
+
+"Everything just the same," murmured the poor mother. "Look here, my
+dear,"--with a faint smile--"these are Bertie's slippers: there is the
+hole he kicked in them when he was in his tempers, for my boy had the
+Cheyne temper. He was Herbert's image,--his very image." She sighed,
+paused, and went on: "Every night I come and sit beside their beds,
+and then the darlings come to me. I can see their faces--oh, so
+plainly!--and hear their voices. 'Good-night, dear mamma!' they seem
+to say to me, only Bertie's voice is always the louder."
+
+Her manner was becoming a little excited again; only Phillis took her
+hand and pressed it gently, and the touch seemed to soothe her like
+magic.
+
+"I am so glad you come here every night," she said, in her sweet,
+serious voice, from which every trace of fear had gone. "I think that
+a beautiful idea, to come and say your prayers beside one of these
+little beds."
+
+"To say my prayers!--I pray beside my darlings' beds!" exclaimed Mrs.
+Cheyne, in a startled voice. "Oh no! I never do that. God would not
+hear such prayers as mine,--never--never!"
+
+"Dear Mrs. Cheyne, why not?" She moved restlessly away at the
+question, and tried to disengage herself from Phillis's firm grasp.
+"The Divine Father hears all prayers," whispered the girl.
+
+"All?--but not mine,--not mine, or I should not be sitting here alone.
+Do you know my husband left me in anger,--that his last words to me
+were the bitterest he ever spoke? 'Good-by, Magdalene: you have made
+my life so wretched that I do not care if I never live to set foot in
+this house again!' And that to me,--his wedded wife, and the mother of
+his children,--who loved him so. Oh, Herbert! Herbert!" and, covering
+her face, the unhappy woman suddenly burst into a passion of tears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.
+
+
+Phillis kept a sad silence: not for worlds would she have checked the
+flow of tears that must have been so healing to the tortured brain.
+Besides, what was there that she, so young and inexperienced, could
+say in the presence of a grief so terrible, so overpowering? The whole
+thing was inexplicable to Phillis. Why were the outworks of
+conventionality so suddenly thrown down? Why was she, a stranger,
+permitted to be a witness of such a revelation? As she sat there
+speechless and sympathizing, a faint sound reached her ear,--the
+rustle of a dress in the adjoining room,--footsteps that approached
+warily, and then paused; a moment afterwards the door closed softly
+behind them. Phillis looked round quickly, but could see nothing; and
+the same instant a peal of thunder rolled over their heads.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne started up with an hysterical scream, and caught hold of
+Phillis. "Come," she said, almost wildly, "we will not stay here. The
+children will not come to-night, for who could hear their voices in
+such a storm? My little angels!--but they shall not see me like this.
+Come, come!" And, taking the girl by the arm, she almost dragged her
+from the room, and led the way with rapid and disordered footsteps to
+a large luxurious chamber, furnished evidently as a dressing-room, and
+only divided from the sleeping-room by a curtained archway.
+
+As Mrs. Cheyne threw herself down in an arm-chair and hid her face in
+her hands, the curtain was drawn back, and Miss Mewlstone came in with
+an anxious, almost frightened expression on her good-natured
+countenance. She hurried up to Mrs. Cheyne and took her in her arms as
+though she were a child.
+
+"Now, Magdalene, now, my dear," she said, coaxingly, "you will try to
+be good and command yourself before this young lady. Look at her: she
+is not a bit afraid of the storm:--are you, Miss Challoner? No, just
+so; you are far too sensible."
+
+"Oh, that is what you always tell me," returned Mrs. Cheyne, wrenching
+herself free with some violence. "Be sensible,--be good,--when I am
+nearly mad with the oppression and suffocation, here, and here,"
+pointing to her head and breast. "Commonplaces, commonplaces; as well
+stop a deluge with a teacup. Oh, you are an old fool, Barby: you will
+never learn wisdom."
+
+"My poor lamb! Barby never minds one word you say when you are like
+this."
+
+"Oh, I will beg your pardon to-morrow, or when the thunder stops.
+Hark! there it is again," cowering down in her chair. "Can't you pray
+for it to cease, Barby? Oh, it is too horrible! Don't you recollect
+the night he rode away,--right into the storm, into the very teeth of
+the storm? 'Good-bye, Magdalene; who knows when we may meet again?'
+and I never looked at him, never kissed him, never broke the silence
+by one word; and the thunder came, and he was gone," beating the air
+with her hands.
+
+"Oh, hush, my dear, hush! Let me read to you a little, and the fever
+will soon pass. You are frightening the poor young lady with your wild
+talk, and no wonder!"
+
+"Pshaw! who minds the girl? Let her go or stop; what do I care? What
+is the whole world to me, when I am tormented like this? Three years,
+four years--more than a thousand days--of this misery! Oh, Barby! do
+you think I have been punished enough? do you think where he is, up in
+heaven with the children, that he forgives and pities me, who was such
+a bad wife to him?"
+
+As Miss Mewlstone paused a moment to wipe the tears that were flowing
+over her old cheeks, Phillis's voice came to her relief.
+
+"Oh, can you doubt it?" she said, in much agitation. "Dear Mrs.
+Cheyne, can you have an instant's doubt? Do you think the dead carry
+all these paltry earthly feelings into the bright place yonder?
+Forgive you--oh, there is no need of forgiveness there; he will only
+be loving you,--he and the children too."
+
+"God bless you!" whispered Miss Mewlstone. "Hush, that is enough! Go,
+my dear, go, and I will come to you presently. Magdalene, put your
+poor head down here: I have thought of something that will do you
+good." She waved Phillis away almost impatiently, and laid the poor
+sufferer's head on her bosom, shielding it from the flashes that
+darted through the room. Phillis could see her bending over her, and
+her voice was as tender as though she were soothing a sick infant.
+
+Phillis was trembling with agitation as she stole down the dark
+corridor. Never in her happy young life had she witnessed or imagined
+such a scene. The wild words, the half-maddened gestures, the look of
+agony stamped on the pale, almost distorted features, would haunt her
+for many a day. Oh, how the poor soul must have suffered before she
+lost self-control and balance like this!
+
+It was not the death of her children that had so utterly unnerved her.
+It must have been that bitter parting with her husband, and the
+remembrance of angry words never to be atoned for in this life, that
+was cankering the root of her peace, and that brought about these
+moods of despair.
+
+Phillis thought of Coleridge's lines,--
+
+               "And to be wroth with one we love
+               Doth work like madness on the brain,"--
+
+as she took refuge in the dim drawing-room. Here, at least, there were
+signs of human life and occupation. A little tea-table had been set in
+one window, though the tea was cold. The greyhounds came and laid
+their slender noses on her gown, and one small Italian one coiled
+himself up on her lap. Miss Mewlstone's work-basket stood open, and a
+tortoise shell kitten had helped itself to a ball of wool and was
+busily unwinding it. The dogs were evidently frightened at the storm,
+for they all gathered round Phillis, shivering and whining, as though
+missing their mistress; and she had much ado to comfort them, though
+she loved animals and understood their dumb language better than most
+people.
+
+It was not so very long, and yet it seemed hours before Miss Mewlstone
+came down to her.
+
+"Are you here, my dear?" she asked, in a loud whisper, for the room
+was dark. "Ah, just so. We must have lights, and I must give you a
+glass of wine or a nice hot cup of coffee." And, notwithstanding
+Phillis's protest that she never took wine and was not in need of
+anything, Miss Mewlstone rang the bell, and desired the footman to
+bring in the lamp. "And tell Bishop to send up some nice hot coffee
+and sandwiches as soon as possible. For young people never know what
+they want, and you are just worried and tired to death with all you
+have gone through,--not being an old woman and seasoned to it like
+me," went on the good creature, and she patted Phillis's cheek
+encouragingly as she spoke.
+
+"But how is she? Oh, thank God, the storm has lulled at last!"
+exclaimed the girl, breathlessly.
+
+"Oh, yes; the storm is over. We have reason to dread storms in this
+house," returned Miss Mewlstone, gravely. "She was quite exhausted,
+and let Charlotte and me help her to bed. Now she has had her
+composing-draught, and Charlotte will sit by her till I go up. I
+always watch by her all night after one of these attacks."
+
+"Is it a nervous attack?" asked Phillis, timidly, for she felt she was
+treading on delicate ground.
+
+"I believe Dr. Parkes calls it hysteria," replied Miss Mewlstone,
+hesitating a little. "Ah, we have sad times with her. You heard what
+she said, poor dear: she has been sorely tried."
+
+"Was not her husband good to her, then?"
+
+"I am sure he meant to be kind," returned Miss Mewlstone, sorrowfully,
+"for he loved her dearly; but he was passionate and masterful, and was
+one that would have his way. As long as it was only courtship, he
+worshipped the ground she walked upon, as the saying is. But poor
+Magdalene was not a good wife. She was cold when she ought to have
+been caressing, stubborn when she might have yielded; and sarcasm
+never yet healed a wound. Ah, here comes your coffee! Thank you,
+Evans. Now, my dear, you must just eat and drink, and put some color
+into those pale cheeks. Scenes like these are not good for young
+creatures like you. But when Magdalene is in these moods, she would
+not care if the whole world listened to her. To-morrow she will be
+herself, and remember and be ashamed; and then you must not mind if
+she be harder and colder than ever. She will say bitter things all the
+more, because she is angered at her own want of self-control."
+
+"I can understand that: that is just as I should feel," returned
+Phillis, shuddering a little at the idea of encountering Mrs. Cheyne's
+keen-edged sarcasms. "She will not like to see me any more; she will
+think I had no right to witness such a scene."
+
+"It is certainly a pity that I wrote that note," returned Mrs.
+Mewlstone, reflectively. "I hoped that you would turn her thoughts,
+and that we might avert the usual nervous paroxysm. When I opened the
+door and saw you sitting together so peacefully beside the children's
+beds, I expected a milder mood; but it was the thunder. Poor
+Magdalene! She has never been able to control herself in a storm since
+the evening Herbert left her, and we went in and found her lying
+insensible in the library, in the midst of one of the worst storms I
+have ever witnessed."
+
+"That was when he said those cruel words to her!" ejaculated Phillis.
+
+"Yes. Did she repeat them? How often I have begged her to forget them,
+and to believe that he repented of them before an hour was over! Ah,
+well! the sting of death lies in this: if she had had one word, one
+little word, she would be a different woman, in spite of the
+children's death. God's strokes are less cruel than men's strokes: the
+reed may be bruised by them, but is not broken. She had a long illness
+after the children were gone; it was too much,--too much for any
+woman's heart to bear. You see, she wanted her husband to comfort her.
+Dr. Parkes feared for her brain, but we pulled her through. Ah, just
+so, my dear; we pulled her through!" finished Miss Mewlstone, with a
+sigh.
+
+"Oh, how good you are to her! she is happy to have such a friend!"
+observed Phillis, enthusiastically.
+
+Miss Mewlstone shook her head, and a tear rolled down her face.
+
+"Oh, my dear, I am only an old fool, as she said just now. And, after
+all, the company of a stupid old woman is not much to a proud bonnie
+creature like that. Sometimes for days together she hardly opens her
+lips to me; we sit together, eat together, drive together, and not a
+word for Barby. But sometimes, poor dear! she will cling to me and
+cry, and say her heart is breaking. And Solomon was right: but it was
+not only a brother that is good for adversity. When she wants me, I am
+here, and there is nothing I will not do for her, and she knows
+it;--and that is about the long and short of it," finished Miss
+Mewlstone, dismissing the subject with another sigh. And then she bade
+Phillis finish her coffee and put on her hat. "For your mother will be
+expecting you, and wondering what has become of you; and Phillips or
+Evans must walk with you, for it is past nine o'clock, and such a
+pretty young lady must not go unattended," concluded the simple
+woman.
+
+Phillis laughed and kissed her at this; but, though she said nothing
+of her intentions, she determined to dismiss the servant as soon as
+possible, and run on alone to the Friary. She had not forgotten her
+encounter with Mr. Drummond on her last visit to the White House; but
+to-night the storm would keep him in-doors.
+
+Evans, the new footman, was desired to escort her; but in the middle
+of the avenue Phillis civilly dismissed him.
+
+"There is no need for two of us to get wet; and the rain is coming on
+very heavily," she said.
+
+The young man hesitated; but he was slow-witted and new to his duty,
+and the young lady had a peremptory way with her, so he touched his
+hat, and went back to the house.
+
+"Such nonsense, having a liveried servant at my heels, when I am only
+a dressmaker!" thought Phillis, scurrying down the avenue like a
+chased rabbit.
+
+Hitherto, the trees had sheltered her; but a glance at the open road
+and the driving rain made her resolve to take refuge in the porch of
+the cottage that stood opposite the gate. It was the place where Nan
+and her mother had once lodged; and, though all the lights were
+extinguished, and the people had retired to bed, she felt a
+comfortable sense of safety as she unlatched the little gate. Not even
+Mr. Drummond would discover her there.
+
+But Phillis's satisfaction was of short duration: the foolish girl was
+soon to repent of her foolhardiness in dismissing her escort. She
+little knew that her words to Evans had been overheard, and that
+behind the dripping shrubbery she had been watched and followed.
+Scarcely had she taken refuge under the green porch, and placed her
+wet umbrella to dry, before she heard the latch of the little gate
+unclosed, and a tall dark figure came up the gravel-walk. It was not
+Isaac Williams's portly form,--she could discern that in the
+darkness,--and, for the moment, a thrill of deadly terror came upon
+the incautious girl; but the next minute her natural courage returned
+to her aid. The porch was just underneath the room where Isaac slept;
+a call of 'help' would reach him at once; there was no reason for this
+alarm at all. Nevertheless, she shrunk back a little as the stranger
+came directly towards her, then paused as though in some
+embarrassment:
+
+"Pardon me, but you have poor shelter here. I am Mrs. Williams's
+lodger. I could easily let you into the cottage. I am afraid the rain
+comes through the trellis-work."
+
+Phillis's heart gave a great thump of relief. In the first place, Mrs.
+Williams's lodger must be a respectable person, and no dangerous
+loafer or pickpocket; in the second place the refined cultured tones
+of the stranger pleased her ear. Phillis had a craze on this point.
+"You may be deceived in a face, but in a voice, never!" she would say;
+and, as she told Nan afterwards, the moment that voice greeted her in
+the darkness she felt no further fear.
+
+"I have a dry corner here," she returned, quietly; "it is only a
+thunder-shower, and I am close to home,--only down the road, and just
+round the corner, past the vicarage."
+
+"Past the vicarage!" in a tone of surprise: "why, there are no houses
+there!"
+
+"There is a very small one called the Friary," returned Phillis,
+feeling herself color in the darkness, as she mentioned their humble
+abode. There was no answer for a moment, and then her mysterious
+neighbor continued:
+
+"My good landlord seems to retire early; the whole place looks
+deserted. They are very early risers, and perhaps that is the reason.
+If you will allow me to pass, I will open the door and light a lamp in
+my little parlor. Even if you prefer to remain in the porch, it will
+look more cheerful." And, without waiting for her reply, he took a key
+from his pocket, and let himself into the house.
+
+Their voices had disturbed the owners of the cottage, and Phillis
+overheard the following colloquy:
+
+"Dear sakes alive! what a frightful storm! Is there anything you want,
+Mr. Dancy?" in Mrs. Williams's shrill tones.
+
+"Not for myself, Mrs. Williams; but there is a young lady sheltering
+in the porch. I should be glad if you could come down and make her a
+little comfortable. The floodgates of heaven seem open to-night."
+
+"Dear, dear!" in a still more perplexed voice; "a young lady at this
+time of night,--why, it must be half-after nine. Very well, Mr. Dancy;
+beg her to come in and sit in your parlor a moment, and I will be
+down."
+
+But Phillis absolutely refused to comply with the invitation.
+
+"I am not tired, and I am not a bit wet, and I like watching the rain.
+This is a nice little porch, and I have taken refuge here before. We
+all know Mrs. Williams very well."
+
+"She is a good creature, if she were not always in a bustle," returned
+Mr. Dancy. "There, the lamp is lighted: that looks more comfortable."
+And as he spoke he came out into the little hall.
+
+Phillis stole a curious glance at him.
+
+He was a tall man, and was dressed somewhat strangely. A long
+foreign-looking cloak and a broad-brimmed felt hat, which he had not
+yet removed, gave him the look of an artist; but, except that he had a
+beard and moustache, and wore blue spectacles, she could not gain the
+slightest clue to his features. But his voice,--it pleased Phillis's
+sensitive ear more every moment; it was pleasant,--rather foreign,
+too,--and had a sad ring in it.
+
+He leaned against the wall opposite to her, and looked out
+thoughtfully at the driving rain.
+
+"I think I saw you coming out from the White House," he observed
+presently. "Are you a friend of Mrs. Cheyne? I hope," hesitating a
+little, "that she is very well."
+
+"Do you know her?" asked Phillis, in surprise.
+
+"That is a very Irish way of answering my question; but you shall have
+your turn first. Yes; I used to know her many years ago, and Herbert
+Cheyne, too."
+
+"Her poor husband! Oh! and did you like him?" rather breathlessly.
+
+"Pretty fairly," was the indifferent reply. "People used to call him a
+pleasant fellow, but I never thought much of him myself,--not but what
+he was more sinned against than sinning, poor devil. Anyhow, he paid
+dearly enough for his faults."
+
+"Yes, indeed; and one must always speak leniently of the dead."
+
+"Ah, that is what they say,--that he is dead. I suppose his widow put
+on mourning, and made lamentation. She is well, you say, and
+cheerful?"
+
+"Oh, no! neither the one nor the other. I am not her friend; I only
+know her just little; but she strikes me as very sad. She has lost her
+children, and----"
+
+"Ah!" Phillis thought she heard a strange sound, almost like a groan;
+but of course it was fancy; and just then good Mrs. Williams came
+bustling downstairs.
+
+"Dear heart! why, if it is not Miss Challoner! To think of you, my
+dear miss, being out so late, and alone! Oh, what ever will your ma
+say?"
+
+"My mother will scold me, of course," returned Phillis, laughing; "but
+you must not scold me too, Mrs. Williams, though I deserve all I get.
+Mrs. Mewlstone sent Evans with me, but I made him go back. Country
+girls are fearless and it is only just a step to the Friary."
+
+"The rain is stopping now, if you will permit me to escort you. Mrs.
+Williams will be the voucher for my respectability," observed Mr.
+Dancy, very gravely and without a smile; and, as Phillis seemed
+inclined to put him off with an excuse, he continued, more seriously:
+"Pardon me, but it is far too late, and the road far too lonely, for a
+young lady to go unattended. If you prefer it, I will go to the White
+House, and bring out the recreant Evans by force."
+
+"Oh, no; there is no need for that," observed Phillis, hastily; and
+Mrs. Williams interposed volubly:
+
+"Goodness' sakes, Miss Challoner, you have no call to be afraid of Mr.
+Dancy! Why, Mr. Frank Blunt, that nice young gentleman who lodged with
+me ever so many years, recommended him to me as one of his best and
+oldest friends. Your ma knew Mr. Blunt, for he was here with her, and
+a nicer-spoken young gentleman she said she never saw."
+
+"That will do, Mrs. Williams," returned Mr. Dancy, in rather a
+peremptory tone; and then, turning to Phillis, he said, more civilly,
+but still a little abruptly, as though he were displeased,--
+
+"Well, Miss Challoner, do you feel inclined to trust yourself with me
+for the few hundred yards, or shall I fetch Evans?" And Phillis,
+feeling herself rebuked, unfurled her umbrella at once, and bade Mrs.
+Williams good-night by way of answer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+MRS. WILLIAMS'S LODGER.
+
+
+Phillis felt rather shy and uncomfortable as she picked her way warily
+among the rain-pools in the semi-darkness. Her companion was inclined
+to be silent; most likely he considered her churlish in repelling his
+civil offers of help: so, to make amends, and set herself at her ease,
+she began to talk to him with an attempt at her old sprightliness.
+
+"Do you know this neighborhood well, Mr. Dancy? Have you been long at
+Ivy Cottage?"
+
+"Only a few days; but I know the place well enough," he responded,
+quietly. "It depends upon circumstances how long I remain here."
+
+"Hadleigh is very quiet," returned Phillis, quickly. "It does not
+offer many attractions to strangers, unless they have very moderate
+views of enjoyment. It is select, and the bathing is good, and the
+country tolerable; but when you have said that, you have said all in
+its favor."
+
+"I have always liked the place," with a checked sigh. "Quiet,--that is
+what I want, and rest also. I have been rather a wanderer over the
+face of the earth, and one wants a little breathing-time occasionally,
+to recruit one's exhausted energies. I like Ivy Cottage, and I like
+Mrs. Williams: both suit me for the present. Are you a visitor to
+Hadleigh,--a mere bird of passage like myself, Miss Challoner?"
+
+"Oh, dear, no: we have come here to live."
+
+"And--and you are intimate with Mrs. Cheyne?" coming a little closer
+to her side in the darkness.
+
+"Nothing of the kind," retorted Phillis: "we are mere acquaintances. I
+do not feel to know her at all; she is not a person with whom one
+could get intimate all at once; she is a little difficult. Besides in
+our position----" And here she pulled herself up suddenly.
+
+"Pardon me," returned Mr. Dancy, in an interested voice, "perhaps I
+have no right to inquire, but your words are a little mysterious. Why
+should you not be intimate with Mrs. Cheyne?"
+
+Phillis grew hot in the darkness. What right had he, a perfect
+stranger, to question her so closely? And yet, if he were interested
+in his old friends, perhaps he meant to call at the White House, and
+then he would hear all about them; and after all, perfect frankness
+always answered best in the long run. Phillis hesitated so long over
+her rejoinder that Mr. Dancy said, rather apologetically,--
+
+"I see, I have been incautious; but you must not attribute my question
+to impertinent curiosity. I am anxious to learn all I can about a very
+old friend, of whom I have long lost sight, and I hoped that you might
+have been able to satisfy me."
+
+"Miss Middleton would tell you far more than I."
+
+"What! Elizabeth Middleton? Oh, no: she is far too much of a saint for
+me."
+
+"You know her, too!" exclaimed Phillis, in surprise. "No, I do not
+think you are curious, Mr. Dancy; it was only a little awkward for me
+to tell you about our acquaintance with Mrs. Cheyne. My sister and I
+rendered her a trifling service, and she took a fancy to us, and
+wished to be friends; but in our present position any close intimacy
+would be impossible, as we are only dressmakers."
+
+"Dressmakers!" It is impossible to describe the genuine astonishment,
+almost dismay, in Mr. Dancy's voice. "Dressmakers! Pardon me, Miss
+Challoner, but when one has seen and spoken to a lady like yourself,
+it is almost incredible."
+
+This put Phillis on her mettle at once, and in a moment she laid by
+all her reserve:
+
+"You have been a traveller, Mr. Dancy, and must have seen strange
+things by this time: it surely cannot be such a matter of surprise
+that when gentle-people are poor they must work for their bread. When
+one has ten clever fingers, it is better to use them than to starve. I
+am not ashamed of my position; my sisters and I are very independent;
+but, as we do not like to cause other people embarrassment, we prefer
+to lead hermit lives."
+
+Phillis's silvery tones were rather fierce, but it was well that she
+did not see her companion's expression of suppressed amusement; there
+was a little smothered laugh, too, that was turned into a cough.
+
+"Are your sisters young like yourself?" he asked, rather abruptly.
+
+"Oh, yes, we are all much of an age."
+
+"And you have parents?"
+
+"Only one parent," she corrected,--"a mother. Ah, here we are at the
+Friary! Many thanks for your escort, Mr. Dancy."
+
+"Many thanks for allowing me to escort you," he returned, pointedly:
+"after what you have told me, I esteem it an honor, Miss Challoner.
+No, you have no need to be ashamed of your position; I wish more
+English ladies would follow such a noble example. Good-night. I trust
+we shall meet again." And, lifting his felt hat, he withdrew, just as
+Nan appeared on the threshold, holding a lamp in her hand.
+
+"You naughty girl, what has kept you so late?" she asked, as Phillis
+came slowly and meditatively up the flagged path.
+
+"Hush, Nannie! Have they all gone to bed? Let me come into your room
+and talk to you. Oh, I have had such an evening!" And thereupon she
+poured into her sister's astonished ears the recital of her
+adventure,--the storm, the figure in the shubbery, the scene in the
+west corridor, the porch at Ivy Cottage, and the arrival of Mrs.
+Williams's mysterious lodger.
+
+"Oh, Phillis, I shall never trust you out of my sight again! How can
+you be so reckless,--so incautious? Mother would be dreadfully shocked
+if she knew it."
+
+"Mother must not know a single word: promise, Nan. You know how
+nervous she is. I will tell her, if you like, that I took refuge from
+the rain in Mrs. Williams's porch, and that her lodger walked home
+with me; but I think it would be better to suppress the scene at the
+White House."
+
+Nan thought over this a moment, and then she agreed.
+
+"It would make mother feel uneasy and timid in Mrs. Cheyne's
+presence," she observed. "She never likes that sort of hysterical
+attacks. We could not make her understand. Poor thing! I hope she is
+asleep by this time. Shall you go to-morrow, Phil, and ask after
+her?"
+
+Phillis made a wry face at this, and owned she had had enough
+adventures to last her for a long time. But she admitted, too, that
+she would be anxious to know how Mrs. Cheyne would be.
+
+"Yes, I suppose I must go and just ask after her," she said, as she
+rose rather wearily and lighted her candle. "There is not the least
+chance of my seeing her. Good-night, Nannie! Don't let all this keep
+you awake; but I do not expect to sleep a wink myself."
+
+Which dismal prophecy was not fulfilled, as Phillis dropped into a
+heavy slumber the moment her head touched the pillow.
+
+But her dreams were hardly pleasant. She thought she was walking down
+the "ghost's walk," between the yews and cypresses, with Mr. Dancy,
+and that in the darkest part he threw off his cloak and felt hat, and
+showed the grinning skull of a skeleton, while a bony arm tried to
+seize her. She woke moaning with fright, to find Dulce's long hair
+streaming over her face, and the birds singing in the sweet breezy
+dawn; after which she fell into a dreamless, refreshing sleep.
+
+Phillis had to submit to rather a severe reproof from her mother, in
+return for her frankness. Mrs. Challoner's prudery was up in arms the
+moment she heard of Mrs. Williams's lodger.
+
+"Mrs. Williams ought to have come with you herself; but a strange man
+at that time of night!--what would Mr. Drummond have said to you?"
+
+"Whatever Mr. Drummond liked to say!" returned Phillis, pettishly, for
+this was stroking her already ruffled feelings decidedly the wrong
+way.
+
+Phillis always turned captious whenever Mr. Drummond was mentioned;
+but she subsided into meekness again when her mother fell to crying
+and bemoaning her hard fate and her darlings' unprotected position.
+
+"Oh, what would your dear father have said?" she cried, in such utter
+misery of tone that Phillis began kissing her, and promising that she
+would never, never be out so late again, and that on no account would
+she walk up the Braidwood Road in the evening with a strange man who
+wore an outlandish cloak and a felt hat that only wanted a feather to
+remind her of Guy Fawkes, only Guy Fawkes did not wear blue
+spectacles.
+
+When Phillis had at last soothed her mother,--always a lengthy
+process, for Mrs. Challoner, like other sensitive and feeble natures,
+could only be quieted by much talk,--she fell to her work in vigorous
+silence; but by a stroke of ill luck, Mr. Drummond chose to make
+another pastoral visitation; and, to her secret chagrin, her mother at
+once repeated the whole story.
+
+"Mrs. Williams's lodger saw Miss Phillis home! Why, I did not know
+Mrs. Williams had a lodger!" returned Mr. Drummond, in a perplexed
+voice.
+
+This made matters worse.
+
+"I suppose Mrs. Williams is not bound to let the vicarage know
+directly she lets her rooms?" observed Phillis, rather impatiently;
+for she was vexed with her mother for repeating all this.
+
+"No, of course not; but I was at Ivy Cottage myself yesterday, and
+Mrs. Williams knows I always call on her lodgers, and she never
+mentioned the fellow's existence to me."
+
+"Fellow, indeed!" observed Phillis, _sotto voce_; for she had a vivid
+remembrance of the stranger's commanding presence and pleasant voice.
+
+"When did he come?" inquired the young vicar, curiously, "He must keep
+himself pretty close by daylight; for I have passed and repassed Ivy
+Cottage at least half a dozen times a day, and have never caught a
+glimpse of any one;" to which Phillis replied reluctantly that he had
+not been there long,--that he wanted rest and quiet, and was most
+likely an invalid.
+
+"And his name is Dancy, you say?"
+
+Phillis bowed. She was far too much taken up in her work to volunteer
+unnecessary words; and all this maternal fuss and fidget was odious to
+her.
+
+"Then I will go and call upon him this very afternoon," returned
+Archie, with cheerful alacrity. He had no idea that his curiosity on
+the subject was disagreeable to the girl: so he and Mrs. Challoner
+discussed the matter fully, and at some length. "I don't like the
+description of your mysterious stranger, Miss Challoner," he said,
+laughing, as he stood up to take his leave. "When novelists want to
+paint a villain, they generally bring in a long cloak and beard, and
+sometimes a disguising pair of blue spectacles. Well, I will catch him
+by daylight, and see what I can make of him."
+
+"You may disguise a face, but you cannot disguise a voice," returned
+Phillis, bluntly. "I do not want to see Mr. Dancy to know he is a
+gentleman and a true man." And this speech, that piqued Archie, though
+he did not know why, made him all the more bent on calling on Mrs.
+Williams's lodger.
+
+But Mr. Drummond's curiosity was destined to be baffled. Mrs. Williams
+turned very red when she heard the vicar's inquiries.
+
+"You never told me you had let your rooms," he said, reproachfully;
+"and yet you know I always make a practice of calling on your
+lodgers."
+
+"'Deed and it is very kind and thoughtful of you, too," returned the
+good woman, dropping an old-fashioned courtesy; "and me that prizes my
+clergyman's visits and thinks no end of them! But Mr. Dancy he says to
+me, 'Now, my good Mrs. Williams, I have come here for quiet,--for
+absolute quiet; and I do not want to see or hear of any one. Tell no
+tales about me, and leave me in peace; and then we shall get on
+together.' And it was more than I ventured to give you the hint,
+hearing him speak so positive; for he is a bit masterful, and no
+mistake."
+
+"Well, never mind; a clergyman never intrudes, and I will thank you to
+take Mr. Dancy my card," returned Archie, impatiently; but his look of
+assurance soon faded when Mrs. Williams returned with her lodger's
+compliments, and he was very much obliged to Mr. Drummond for his
+civility, but he did not wish to receive visitors.
+
+Phillis was a little contrary all the remainder of the day: she was
+not exactly cross,--all the Challoners were sweet-tempered,--but
+nothing quite suited her. Mrs. Challoner had proposed going that
+evening into the town with her youngest daughter to execute some
+commissions.
+
+Just before they started Phillis observed rather shortly that she
+should call at the White House to make inquiries after Mrs. Cheyne,
+and that she would came back to the Friary to fetch Nan for a country
+walk. "If I do not appear in half an hour, you must come in search of
+me," finished Phillis, with a naughty curl of her lip, to which Nan
+with admirable tact returned no answer, but all the same she fully
+intended to carry out the injunction; for Nan had imbibed her mother's
+simple old-fashioned notions, and a lurking dislike of Mrs. Williams's
+lodger had already entered her mind.
+
+As Phillis did not enjoy her errand, she put on the best face she
+could, and hurried down the Braidwood Road as though her feet were
+winged like a female Mercury; and Mr. Dancy, who happened to be
+looking over the wire blind in the little parlor, much admired the
+girl's free swift gait as she sped down the avenue. Evans, the young
+footman, admitted her, and conducted her at once to the drawing-room;
+and great was Phillis's surprise and discomposure when she saw Mrs.
+Cheyne sitting alone reading by one of the windows, with her
+greyhounds grouped around her.
+
+She started slightly at the announcement of Phillis's name, and, as
+she came forward to greet her, a dark flush crossed her face for a
+moment; then her features settled into their usual impassive calm,
+only there was marked coldness in her voice.
+
+"Good-evening. Miss Challoner: you have chosen a fine evening for your
+visit. Let me beg of you never again to venture to the White House in
+such a storm."
+
+Phillis stammered out something about hoping that she was better, but
+she interrupted her almost abruptly:
+
+"Much better, thank you. I am afraid you found me decidedly strange
+yesterday. I had what people call a nervous attack: electricity in the
+air, a brooding storm, brings it on. It is a pity one should be so
+childish as to dread thunder; but we are oddly constituted, some of
+us." She shrugged her shoulders, as though to dismiss the subject, and
+stroked the head of the greyhound that lay at her feet.
+
+Poor Phillis found her position decidedly embarrassing. To be sure,
+Miss Mewlstone had warned her of the reception that she might expect;
+but all the same she found it very unpleasant. She must not abridge
+her visit so much as to excite suspicion; and yet it seemed impossible
+to carry on a comfortable conversation with Mrs. Cheyne in this
+freezing mood, and, as Phillis could think of nothing to say, she
+asked after Miss Mewlstone.
+
+"Oh, she is very well," Mrs. Cheyne answered, indifferently. "Nothing
+ever ails Barby: she is one of those easy-going people who take life
+as they find it, without fuss and grumbling."
+
+"I think she is very nice and sympathetic," hazarded Phillis.
+
+"Oh, yes Miss Mewlstone has a feeling heart," returned Mrs. Cheyne;
+but she said it in a sarcastic voice. "We have all our special
+endowments. Miss Mewlstone is made by nature to be a moral feather bed
+to break other people's awkward tumbles. She hinders broken bones, and
+interposes a soft surface of sympathy between unlucky folks. There is
+not much in common between us, but all the same old Barby is a sort of
+necessity to me. We are a droll household at the White House, Miss
+Challoner, are we not,--Barby and the greyhounds and I?--oh, quite a
+happy family!" And she gave a short laugh, very much the reverse of
+merriment.
+
+Phillis began to feel that it was time to go.
+
+"Well, how does the dressmaking progress?" asked her hostess,
+suddenly. "Miss Middleton tells me the Challoner fit is quite the rage
+in Hadleigh."
+
+"We have more orders than we can execute," returned Phillis, curtly.
+
+"Humph! that sounds promising. I hope your mother is careful of you,
+and forbids any expenditure of midnight oil, or you will be reduced to
+a thread-paper. As I have told you you are not the same girl that you
+were when you came to the relief of my injured ankle."
+
+"I feel tolerably substantial, thank you," returned Phillis,
+ungraciously, for, in common with other girls, she hated to be pitied
+for her looks, and she had a notion that Mrs. Cheyne only said this to
+plague her. "Nan is our head and task mistress. We lead regular lives,
+have stated hours for work, take plenty of exercise and on the whole,
+are doing as well as possible."
+
+"There speaks the Challoner spirit."
+
+"Oh, yes; that never fails us. But now Nan will be waiting for me, and
+I only called just to inquire after you."
+
+"And you did not expect to see me. Well, come again when I am in a
+better humor for conversation. If you stay longer now I might not be
+sparing of my sarcasms. By the by, what has become of our young vicar?
+Tell him he has not converted me yet, and I quite miss his pastoral
+visits. Do you know," looking so keenly at Phillis that she blushed
+with annoyance, "a little bird tells me that our pastor has undertaken
+the supervision of the Friary. Which is it, my dear, that he is trying
+to convert?"
+
+The tone and manner were intolerable to Phillis.
+
+"I don't understand you, Mrs. Cheyne," she returned, with superb
+youthful haughtiness. "Mr. Drummond is a kind neighbor, and so is Miss
+Mattie. You may keep these insinuations for him, if you will." Then
+she would have escaped without another glance at her tormentor, but
+Mrs. Cheyne detained her:
+
+"There, never mind. I will take back my naughty speech. It was rude
+and impertinent of me, I know that. But I like you all the better for
+your spirit; and, my dear, take care of yourself and your pretty
+sisters, for he is not worthy of one of you."
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Cheyne! for shame!" And Phillis's gray eyes sparkled with
+lively indignation.
+
+"He is a very ordinary good young man; and you and your sisters are
+real metal, and worth your weight in gold. There! go away, child; and
+come and see me again, for it does me good to torment you!" And the
+singular woman drew the girl into her arms suddenly and kissed her
+forehead, and then pushed her away. "To-morrow, or the next day, but
+not to-night," she said, hurriedly. "I should make you cross fifty
+times if you stay longer to-night." And Phillis was too thankful to be
+released to linger any longer; but her cheeks were burning as she
+walked down the avenue.
+
+"Why do people always put these things into girls' heads?" she said to
+herself. "A young man cannot come into the house, cannot say pleasant
+words, or do kind neighborly actions, but one must at once attribute
+motives of this kind. I have not been free from blame myself in this
+matter, for I have feared more than once that Nan's sweet face
+attracted him,--poor Mr. Drummond! I hope not, for he would not have a
+chance against Dick. I wonder if I ought to say a word?--if it would
+be premature or unnecessary? But I should hate him to be
+unhappy,"--here Phillis sighed, and then threw up her head proudly: "I
+might say just a word, mentioning Dick,--for he does not know of his
+existence. I wonder if he would take the hint. I could do it very
+cleverly, I know. I hate to see people burning their fingers for
+nothing: I always want to go to their rescue. He is tiresome, but he
+is very nice. And, heigh-ho! what a crooked world we live in!--nothing
+goes quite straight in it." And Phillis sighed again.
+
+"Miss Challoner!" The voice sounded so near her that Phillis gave a
+great start. She had nearly reached the gate, and there was Mr. Dancy
+walking beside her, just as though he had emerged from the ground; and
+yet Phillis had not heard a sound. "Have I startled you?" he
+continued, gravely. "You were in such a brown study that I had to call
+you by your name to rouse you. There is nothing wrong at the White
+House, I hope?"
+
+"Oh, no! Mrs. Cheyne is better: her nervous attack has quite passed
+off."
+
+"Magdalene suffering from a nervous attack?" and then Mr. Dancy
+stopped, and bit his lip. "Excuse me, I knew her before she was
+married, when she was Magdalene Davenport--before she and poor Herbert
+Cheyne unfortunately came together. I doubt whether things have not
+happened for the best; there!--I mean," as Phillis looked at him in
+some perplexity, "that there is little fear of her being an
+inconsolable widow."
+
+"How can you say such a thing!" returned Phillis, indignantly. "That
+is the way with you men, you judge so harshly of women. Mrs. Cheyne is
+singular in her ways. She wears no mourning, and yet a more unhappy
+creature never existed on this earth. Not inconsolable!--and yet no
+one dares to speak a word of comfort to her, so great is her misery."
+
+"Excuse me one moment: I have been ill, and am still subject to fits
+of giddiness. A mere vertigo; nothing more." But he said the words
+gasping for breath, and looked so deadly pale that Phillis felt quite
+frightened as she stood beside him.
+
+They had been walking a few steps down the Braidwood Road, and Phillis
+had looked out anxiously for Nan, who had not yet appeared in sight.
+But now Mr. Dancy had come to an abrupt pause, and was leaning for
+support against the low wall that shut in the grounds of the White
+House. Phillis looked at him a little curiously, in spite of her
+sympathy. He still wore his loose cloak, though the evening was warm;
+but he had loosened it, and taken off his felt hat for air.
+
+In figure he was a tall, powerful-looking man, only thin and almost
+emaciated, as though from recent illness. His features were handsome,
+but singularly bronzed and weather-beaten, as though from constant
+exposure to sun and wind; and even the blue spectacles could not hide
+a pair of keen blue eyes. By daylight Phillis could see that his brown
+beard and moustache were tinged with gray, and the hair on the temples
+was almost white; and yet he seemed still in the prime of life. It was
+a far handsomer face than Archie Drummond's; but the deep lines and
+gray hair spoke of trouble more than age, and one thing especially
+impressed Phillis,--the face was as refined as the voice.
+
+If Mr. Dancy were aware of her close scrutiny, he took no notice of
+it. He leaned his arm against the wall and rested his head against it;
+and the thin brown hand was plainly visible, with a deep-red scar just
+above the wrist.
+
+As Phillis had regarded it with sudden horror, wondering what had
+inflicted it, he suddenly aroused himself with an apology:
+
+"There! it has passed: it never lasts long. Shall we walk on? I am so
+ashamed of detaining you in this way; but when a man has had a
+sunstroke----"
+
+"Oh, that is sad!" returned Phillis, in a sympathizing voice. "Is that
+why you keep in-doors so much in the daylight? at least"--correcting
+herself in haste, for she had spoken without thought--"one never sees
+you about," which was a foolish speech, and showed she took notice of
+his movements; but she could not betray Mr. Drummond.
+
+"Some one else only comes out in the evening," he rejoined, rather
+pointedly. "Who told you I kept in-doors in the daylight? Oh, I know!"
+the frown passing from his face, for he had spoken quickly and in
+annoyed fashion. "This sounds like a parson's prating: I know the
+language of old. By the bye, did you set the clergy on my track?"
+turning the blue spectacles full on the embarrassed Phillis.
+
+"I?--no indeed!" and then she went on frankly: "Mr. Drummond was at
+our house, and he told us that he always called on Mrs. Williams's
+lodgers."
+
+"True, Miss Challoner; but how did his reverence know Mrs. Williams
+had a lodger?"
+
+This was awkward, but Phillis steered her way through the difficulty
+with her usual dexterity.
+
+"I mentioned to my mother that you were kind enough to see me home,
+and she repeated the fact to Mr. Drummond."
+
+"Thank you, Miss Challanor; now I understand. I wonder if your mother
+would be very shocked if a stranger intruded upon her? but you and I
+must have some more conversation together, and I do not see how it is
+to be managed in accordance with what you ladies call _les
+convenances_."
+
+"My mother----" began Phillis, demurely; and then she paused, and
+looked up at him in astonishment, "What, Mr. Dancy! you purpose to
+call on my mother, and yet you refused Mr. Drummond's visit?" for the
+news of Archie's defeat had already reached the Friary through Miss
+Mattie.
+
+Mr. Dancy seemed rather nonplussed at this, and then he laughed:
+
+"Ah, you are shrewd, Miss Challoner; there is no deceiving you! I have
+seen Mr. Drummond pass and repass often enough; and--pardon me, if he
+be a friend--I thought from the cut of his coat that he was prig, and
+I have a horror of clerical prigs."
+
+"He is not priggish in the least," was Phillis's annoyed rejoinder.
+
+"No? Well, appearances are sometimes deceptive: perhaps I was too
+hasty in my dread of being bored. But here comes your sister, I
+think,--at least, I have seen you together: so I am leaving you in
+good hands." And, before Phillis could reply, he had lifted his hat
+and turned away, just as Nan, whose vigilant eyes were upon him, was
+hurrying to join her sister.
+
+"Oh, Phillis, was that Mr. Dancy?" she asked, in a reproachful voice,
+as she hurried up to her.
+
+"Yes, Nannie, it was Mr. Dancy," returned Phillis, composedly; "and I
+wish I could have introduced him to you, for I believe he is coming to
+call on mother." And, when she had related this astounding piece of
+intelligence, she looked in Nan's face and laughed, and, in high good
+humor, proceeded to relate their conversation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+"NOW WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER."
+
+
+One fine morning in September, Mr. Drummond was standing at the back
+of Milner's Library, turning over the last new assortment of books
+from Mudie, when two gentlemen entered the shop.
+
+Strangers were always interesting to Archie, and he criticised them
+under a twofold aspect--pastoral and social. In this way curiosity
+becomes a virtue, and a man with a mission is not without his
+interests in life. Hadleigh was Mr. Drummond's sheep-walk, where he
+shepherded his lambs, and looked after his black sheep and tried to
+wash them white, or, in default of that, at least to make out that
+their fleece was not so sable after all: so he now considered it his
+duty to leave off turning over the pages of a seductive-looking novel,
+and to inspect the strangers.
+
+They were both dressed in tweed travelling costumes, and looked
+sunburnt, as though they had just returned from a walking-tour. The
+elder was a short wiry man, with a shrewd face and quizzical eyes; and
+he asked in sharp clipping voice that was not free from accent, for
+the last number of the local paper, containing lists of inhabitants,
+visitors, etc.
+
+Meanwhile, the younger man walked about the shop, whistling softly to
+himself, as though he had a fund of cheerfulness on hand which must
+find vent somewhere. When he came opposite Archie, he took a brief
+survey of him in a careless, good-humored fashion, and then turned on
+his heel, bestowing a very cursory glance on Miss Masham, who stood
+shaking her black ringlets after the fashion of shopwomen, and waiting
+to know the gentleman's pleasure.
+
+No one would have called this young man very good-looking, unless such
+a one had a secret predilection for decidedly reddish hair and a sandy
+moustache; but there was an air of _bonhommie_, of frank kindness, of
+boyish fun and pleasantry, that attracted even strangers, and Archie
+looked after him with considerable interest.
+
+"Oxford cut, father and son: father looks rather a queer customer,"
+thought Archie to himself.
+
+"Dick, come here!--why, where is that fellow?" suddenly exclaimed the
+elder man, beginning to put on his eye-glasses very nervously.
+
+"Coming, father. All right: what is it?" returned the imperturbable
+Dick. He was still whistling "Twickenham Ferry" under his breath, as
+he came to the counter and leaned with both elbows upon it.
+
+"Good gracious, boy, what does this mean?" went on the other, in an
+irritable perturbed voice; and he read a short advertisement, written
+in a neat lady-like hand: "Dressmaking undertaken. Terms moderate, and
+all orders promptly executed. Apply to--the Misses Challoner, the
+Friary, Braidwood Road. Ladies waited upon at their own residences'.
+What the"--he was about to add a stronger term, but, in deference to
+Miss Milner, substituted--"dickens does this mean, Dick?"
+
+The young man's reply was to snatch the paper out of his father's
+hand, and study it intently, with his elbows still on the counter, and
+the last bar of "Twickenham Ferry" died away uncompleted on his lips;
+and if any one could have seen his face, they would have remarked a
+curious redness spreading to his forehead.
+
+"Nan's handwriting, by Jove!" he muttered, but still inaudibly; and
+then he stared at the paper, and his face grew redder.
+
+"Well, Dick, can't you answer? What does this piece of tomfoolery
+mean--'dressmaking undertaken--ladies waited upon at their own
+residences'? Can there be two families of Challoner and two Friaries?
+and why don't you speak and say something?"
+
+"Because I know as little as yourself, father," returned the young
+man, without lifting his head; and he surreptitiously conveyed the
+paper to his pocket. "Perhaps this lady," indicating Miss Milner,
+"could inform us?"
+
+"I beg your pardon," observed a gentlemanly voice near them; and,
+looking up, Dick found himself confronted by the young clergyman. "I
+overheard your inquiries, and, as I am acquainted with the ladies in
+question, I may be able to satisfy you."
+
+"I should be extremely obliged to you if you would do so, sir,"
+returned the elder man, with alacrity; but Dick turned away rather
+ungraciously, and his cheerful face grew sullen.
+
+"Confound him! what does he mean by his interference? Knows them,
+indeed! such a handsome beggar, too,--a prig, one can see that from
+the cut of his clothes and beard!" And again he planted his elbows on
+the counter, and began pulling his rough little stubbly moustache.
+
+"If you are referring to a mother and three daughters who live in the
+Friary and eke out a scanty income by taking in dressmaking, I am
+happy to say I know them well," went on Archie. "My sister and I visit
+at the cottage, and they attend my church; and, as Miss Milner can
+tell you, they work hard enough all the six days of the week."
+
+"Indeed, Mr. Drummond, there are few that work harder!" broke in Miss
+Milner, volubly. "Such pretty creatures, too, to earn their own
+living; and yet they have a bright word and a smile for everybody!
+Ever since Miss Phillis," (here Dick groaned) "made that blue dress
+for Mrs. Trimmings--she is the butcher's wife, and a dressy woman,
+though not flashy, like Mrs. Squails--they have been quite the rage in
+Hadleigh. All the townspeople, and the resident gentry, and even the
+visitors, want their gowns made by the Miss Challoners. Their fit is
+perfect; and they have such taste. And----" But here the luckless Dick
+could bear no more.
+
+"If you will excuse me, sir," he said, addressing his bewildered
+father, "I have left something particular at the hotel: I must just
+run and fetch it."
+
+Dick did not specify whether it was his handkerchief, or his
+cigar-case, or his purse, of which he stood so urgently in need; but
+before Mr. Mayne could remonstrate, he had gone out of the shop. He
+went as far as the door of the hotel, and there he seized on a passing
+waiter and questioned him in a breathless manner. Having obtained his
+information, he set off at a walk that was almost a run through the
+town, and down the Braidwood Road. The few foot-passengers that he met
+shrank out of the way of this young man; for he walked, looking
+neither to the right nor to left, as though he saw nothing before him.
+And his eyes were gloomy, and, he did not whistle; and the only words
+he said to himself were, "Oh, Nan, never to have told me of this!"
+over and over again.
+
+The gate of the Friary stood open; for a small boy had been washing
+the flags, and had left his pail, and had gone off to play marbles in
+the road with a younger brother. Dick,--who understood the bearings of
+the case at once, shook his fist at the truant behind his back, and
+then turned in at the gate.
+
+He peeped in at the hall door first; but Dorothy was peeling potatoes
+in the kitchen, and would see him as he passed, so he skirted the
+little path under the yews. And if Dulce had been at her
+sewing-machine as usual, she would have seen him at once; but this
+morning the machine was silent.
+
+A few steps farther he came to a full stop, and his eyes began to
+glisten, and he pricked up his ears after the manner of lovers; for
+through an open window just behind him, he could hear Nan's voice,
+sweet and musical, reading aloud to her sisters.
+
+"Oh, the darling!" he murmured, and composed himself for a few
+moments' ecstasy, for no doubt she was reading Tennyson, or
+Barrett-Browning, or one of the poetry-books he had given her; but he
+was a little disappointed when he found it was prose.
+
+"'With regard to washing-dresses,'" read Nan, in her clear tones,
+"'cottons, as a general thing, have another material made up with
+them; the under-skirt may be of foulard or satin----?'"
+
+"Oh, I dare say! What nonsensical extravagance!" observed Phillis.
+
+"'Or the bodice of surah, satin, cashmere, or llama, and the skirt of
+cotton.... The skirts are nearly always made with single box-pleats,
+with a flat surface in the centre, and a flat band of trimming is
+often stitched on at about five inches from the edge of the flounce.'
+I should say that would be sweetly pretty, dear: we might try it for
+Mrs. Penlip's dress. And just listen to a little more."
+
+"I shall do nothing of the kind," blurted out Dick. "Oh, Nan, Nan! how
+could you be such a traitor?--washing-dresses indeed, and me left in
+ignorance!" And there was Dick, his face glowing and indignant,
+standing in the window, with Laddie barking furiously at him, and his
+outstretched hand nearly touching Nan.
+
+Phillis and Dulce screamed with surprise, being young and easily
+excited; but Nan only said, "Oh, Dick!" very faintly; and her sweet
+face grew red and pale by turns, and her fingers fluttered a little in
+his grasp, but only for joy and the sheer delight of seeing him.
+
+As for Dick, his eyes shone, but his manner was masterful.
+
+"Look here!" he said, drawing Nan's advertisement from his pocket; "we
+had come down here to surprise you girls, and to have a little fun and
+tennis; and I meant to have treated you to the public ground at the
+hotel, as I knew you had only a scrubby little bit of lawn; and this
+is what has met my eyes this morning! You have deceived mother and me;
+you have let us enjoy our holiday, which I didn't a bit, for I had a
+sort of nasty presentiment and a heap of uncomfortable thoughts; and
+all the while you were slaving away at this hideous dressmaking,--I
+wish I could burn the whole rag, tag, and bobtail,--and never let us
+know you wanted anything. And you call that being friends!"
+
+"Yes, and the best of friends, too," responded Phillis, cheerfully,
+for Nan was too much crushed by all this eloquence to answer. "Come
+along, Dulce! don't listen any more to this nonsense, when you know
+mother is wanting us. Dick is all very well when he is in a good
+humor, but time and dressmaking wait for no man." And the young
+hypocrite dragged the unwilling Dulce away. "Can't you leave them
+alone to come to an understanding?" whispered Phillis in her ear, when
+they got outside the door. "I can see it in his eyes; and Nan is on
+the verge of crying, she is so upset with the surprise. And, you
+goose, where are you going now?"
+
+"To mother. Did you not say she wanted us?"
+
+"Oh, you silly child!" returned Phillis, calmly: "does not mother
+always want us? One must say what comes uppermost in one's mind in
+emergencies of this sort. But for me, you would have stood there for
+an hour staring at them. Mother is out, as it happens: if you like we
+will go and meet her. Oh, no, I forgot: Dick is a young man, and it
+would not be proper. Let us go into the kitchen and help Dorothy." And
+away they went.
+
+"Phillis is a trump!" thought Dick, as he shut the door. "I love that
+girl." And then he marched up to Nan, and took her hands boldly.
+
+"Now, Nan you owe me amends for this; at least you will say you are
+sorry."
+
+"No, Dick," hanging her head, for she could not face his look, he was
+so masterful and determined with her, and so unlike the easy Dick of
+old. "I am not a bit sorry: I would not have spoiled your holiday for
+worlds."
+
+"My holiday!--a precious holiday it was without you! A lot of stupid
+climbing, with grinning idiots for company. Well, never mind that,"
+his wrathful tone changing in a moment. "So you kept me in the dark
+just for my own good?"
+
+"Yes, of course, Dick. What an unnecessary question!"
+
+"And you wanted me, Nan?"
+
+"Yes," very faintly, and there was a little tear-drop on one of Nan's
+lashes.
+
+She had been so miserable,--how miserable he would never know; but he
+need not have asked her that.
+
+"Oh, very well: then I won't bother you with any more questions. Now
+we understand each other, and can just go to business."
+
+Nan looked up in his face in alarm. She anticipated another lecture,
+but nothing of the sort came. Dick cleared his throat, got a little
+red, and went on.
+
+"I say settle our business, because we have been as good as engaged
+all these years. You know you belong to me, Nan?"
+
+"Yes, Dick," she returned, obediently; for she was too much taken by
+surprise to know what she ought to say, and the two words escaped from
+her almost unconsciously.
+
+"There never was a time we were not fond of each other,--ever since
+you were so high," pointing to what would represent the height of an
+extremely dwarfish infant of seven or eight months.
+
+"Oh, not so long ago as that," returned Nan, laughing a little.
+
+"Quite as long," repeated Dick, solemnly. "I declare, I have been so
+fond of you all my life, Nan, that I have been the happiest fellow in
+the world. Now, look here; just say after me, 'Dick, I promise on my
+word and honor to marry you.'"
+
+Nan repeated the words, and then she paused in affright.
+
+"But your father!" she gasped,--"and the dressmaking! Oh, Dick! what
+have you made me say? You have startled me into forgetting everything.
+Oh, dear! oh, dear! what shall I do?" continued Nan, in the most
+innocent way. "We shall be engaged all our lives, for he will never
+allow you to marry me. Dick, dear Dick, please let me off! I never
+meant to give in like this."
+
+"Never mind what you meant to do," returned Dick, with the utmost
+gravity: "the thing is, you have done it. On your word and honor, Nan,
+remember. Now we are engaged."
+
+"Oh, but Dick, please don't take such advantage of me, just because I
+said--or, at least, you said--I was fond of you. What will mother say?
+She will be so dreadfully shocked; and it is so cruel to your father.
+I will be engaged to you in a way. I will promise--I will vow, if you
+will--never to marry any one else."
+
+"I should think not," interrupted Dick, fiercely. "I would murder the
+fellow, whoever he was!" and in spite of himself his thought reverted
+to the fair beard and handsome face of the young clergyman.
+
+Nan saw from his obstinate face that her eloquence was all wasted; but
+she made one more attempt, blushing like a rose:
+
+"I will even promise to marry you, if your father gives his consent.
+You know, Dick, I would never go against him."
+
+"Nor I. You ought to know me better, Nan, than to think I should act
+shabbily and leave the dear old fellow in the dark."
+
+"Then you will set me free," marvelling a little over her lover's good
+sense and filial submission.
+
+"As free as an engagement permits. Why, what do you mean, Nan? Have I
+not just told you we are engaged for good and all? Do you suppose I do
+not mean to tell my father so on the first opportunity? There he
+comes! bless the man, I knew he would follow me! Now you shall see how
+I can stick up for the girl I love." But Dick thought it better to
+release the hand he had been holding all this time.
+
+There are certain moments in life when one is in too exalted a mood to
+feel the usual sensations that circumstances might warrant. At another
+time Nan would have been shocked at the condition of her work-room,
+being a tidy little soul, and thrifty as to pins and other odds and
+ends; and the thought of Mr. Mayne coming upon them unexpectedly would
+have frightened her out of her senses.
+
+The room was certainly not in its usual order. There had been much
+business transacted there that morning. The table was strewn with
+breadths of gay _broche_ silk; an unfinished gauzy-looking dress hung
+over a chair; the door of the wardrobe was open, and a row of
+dark-looking shapes--like Bluebeard's decapitated wives--were dimly
+revealed to view. A sort of lay figure, draped in calico, was in one
+corner. As Nan observed to Phillis afterwards, "There was not a tidy
+corner in the whole room."
+
+Nevertheless, the presence of Dick so glorified the place that Nan
+looked around at the chaos quite calmly, as she heard Mr. Mayne's
+sharp voice first inquiring for her mother and then for herself.
+Dorothy, with her usual tact, would have shown him into the little
+parlor; but Nan, who wished for no disguise, stepped forward and threw
+open the door.
+
+"I am here, Dorothy. Come in, Mr. Mayne. Dick is here too, and I am so
+sorry mother is out."
+
+"I might have known that scapegrace would have given me the slip!"
+muttered Mr. Mayne, as he shook hands ungraciously with Nan, and then
+followed her into the work-room.
+
+Dick, who was examining the wardrobe, turned round and saluted his
+father with a condescending nod:
+
+"You were too long with the parson: I could not wait, you see. Did you
+make all these dresses, Nan? You are awfully clever, you girls! They
+look first-rate,--this greeny-browny-yellowish one, for example,"
+pulling out a much furbelowed garment destined for Mrs. Squails.
+
+"Oh, Dick, do please leave them alone!" and Nan authoritatively waved
+him away, and closed the wardrobe.
+
+"I was only admiring your handiwork," returned Dick, imperturbably.
+"Does she not look a charming little dressmaker, father?" regarding
+Nan with undisguised pleasure, as she stood in her pretty bib-apron
+before them.
+
+But Mr. Mayne only drew his heavy eyebrows together, and said,--
+
+"Pshaw, Dick! don't chatter such folly. I want to have some talk with
+Miss Nancy myself."
+
+"All right: I have had my innings," returned naughty Dick; but he shot
+a look at Nan that made her blush to her finger ends, and that was not
+lost on Mr. Mayne.
+
+"Well, now, Miss Nancy, what does all this mean?" he asked, harshly.
+"Here we have run down just in a friendly way,--Dick and I,--leaving
+the mother rather knocked up after her travels at Longmead, to look
+you up and see how you are getting on. And now we find you have been
+deceiving us all along, and keeping us in the dark, and that you are
+making yourselves the talk of the place, sewing a parcel of gowns for
+all the townspeople."
+
+Mr. Mayne did not add that his son had so bothered him for the last
+three weeks to run down to Hadleigh that he had acceded at last to his
+request, in the hope of enjoying a little peace.
+
+"Draw it mild!" muttered Dick, who did not much admire this opening
+tirade; but Nan answered, with much dignity,--
+
+"If people talk about us it is because of the novelty. They have never
+heard of gentle-people doing this sort of work before----"
+
+"I should think not!" wrathfully from Mr. Mayne.
+
+"Things were so bad with us that we should have all had to separate if
+Phillis had not planned this scheme; and then mother would have broken
+her heart; but now we are getting on famously. Our work gives
+satisfaction, we have plenty of orders; we do not forfeit people's
+good opinions, for we have nothing but respect shown us, and----"
+
+But here Mr. Mayne interrupted her flow of quiet eloquence somewhat
+rudely.
+
+"Pack of nonsense!" he exclaimed, angrily. "I wonder at your
+mother,--I do indeed. I thought she had more sense. You have no right
+to outrage your friends in this way! it is treating us badly. What
+will your mother say, Dick? She will be dreadfully shocked. I am sorry
+for you, my boy,--I am indeed: but, under the circumstances----"
+
+But what he was about to add was checked by a very singular proceeding
+on the part of his son; for Dick suddenly took Nan's hand, and drew
+her forward.
+
+"Don't be sorry for me, father: I am the happiest fellow alive. Nan
+and I have come to an understanding at last, after all these years.
+Allow me to present to you the future Mrs. Richard Mayne."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+DICK THINKS OF THE CITY.
+
+
+When Dick had uttered this audacious speech, Mr. Mayne started back,
+and his expression of mingled wrath and dismay was so ludicrous that
+under any other circumstances his son would have found it difficult to
+keep his countenance.
+
+"What! what!" he almost shouted, losing all sense of politeness, and
+even of Nan's presence; "you young fool, what do you mean by trumping
+up this nonsense and presuming to talk to me in this way?"
+
+Dick thought it prudent to drop Nan's hand,--and, indeed, the girl
+shrank away from them both in alarm at this outburst: nevertheless,
+his countenance and bearing maintained the same admirable
+_sang-froid_, as he confronted his angry parent:
+
+"Now, father, what is the use of calling me names? When a fellow is of
+age, and knows his own mind, he does not care a pin for being called a
+fool. 'Hard words break no bones,' as our copy-leaves used to tell
+us,--no, I have not got that quite right; but that is about my
+meaning. Look here, father," he continued, in a coaxing, boyish voice;
+"I have cared for Nan ever since she was a little creature so high,"
+again reverting to the infantile measurement. "I have always meant to
+marry her,--that is, if she would have me," correcting himself, as Nan
+drew herself up a little proudly. "Money or no money, there is not
+another girl in England that I would have for a wife. I would wait for
+her if I had to wait half my life, just the same as she would wait for
+me; and so, as I said before, when a fellow has made up his mind,
+there is nothing more to say." And here Dick pursed up his lips for a
+whistle, but thought better of it, and fell to twisting and untwisting
+the ends of his sandy moustache.
+
+Nan's downcast eyes revealed nothing. But if Dick could only have seen
+the happy look in them! What eloquence could ever have been so dear to
+her as that clear rough-and-ready statement of her lover's feelings
+for her? "There is not another girl in England that I would have for a
+wife." Could anything surpass the beauty of that sentence? Oh, how
+manly, how true he was, this Dick of hers!
+
+"Oh, indeed! I am to say nothing, am I?" returned Mr. Mayne, with
+exquisite irony. "My son is to dictate to me; and I am to be silent!
+Oh, you young fool!" he muttered under his breath; but then for the
+moment words seemed to fail him.
+
+In spite of the wrath that was boiling within him, and to which he did
+not dare give vent in Nan's presence, in spite of the grief and
+disappointment that his son's defiance had caused him, Dick's bearing
+filled him with admiration and amazement.
+
+This boy of his was worth something, he thought. He had a clear head
+of his own, and could speak to some purpose. Was a likely young fellow
+like this to be thrown away on that Challoner girl? Poor Nan! Pretty
+and blooming as she looked, Mr. Mayne felt almost as though he hated
+her. Why had she come between his boy and him? Had he a dozen sons,
+that he could spare one of them? Was not Dick his only one,--the son
+of his right hand, his sole hope and ambition? Mr. Mayne could have
+wept as these thoughts passed through his mind.
+
+It was at this moment that Nan thought it right to speak. Dick had had
+his say, but it was not for her to be silent.
+
+"Mr. Mayne, please listen to me a moment," she said, pleadingly. "No;
+I must speak to your father," as Dick, much alarmed, tried to silence
+her. "He must not think hard things of us, and misunderstand us."
+
+"No, dear; indeed you had better be silent!" implored Dick, anxiously;
+but Nan for once turned a deaf ear to him.
+
+"I must speak," she persisted. "Mr. Mayne, it is quite true what Dick
+says: we have been together all our lives, and have grown to care for
+each other. I cannot remember the time,"--the tears coming into her
+bright eyes--"when Dick was not more to me than a brother; it is all
+of such long standing, it is far, far too late to stop it now."
+
+"We shall see about that, Miss Nancy," muttered Mr. Mayne, between his
+teeth; but the girl did not seem to hear him.
+
+"Dick took me by surprise just now. I ought to have been more on my
+guard, and not have given him that promise."
+
+"What promise?" demanded Mr. Mayne, harshly; and Nan hung her head,
+and returned, shyly,--
+
+"That I would marry him some time; but indeed--indeed he made me say
+it, and I was so taken by surprise. No, Dick; you must let me finish,"
+for Dick was looking at her with piteous entreaty in his eyes. "I know
+we were wrong to say so much without your leave; but indeed I will do
+your son no harm. I cannot marry any one else, because I am engaged to
+him; but as far as he is concerned he is free. I will never marry him
+without your permission; he shall not come here if you do not wish;
+but do not be so angry with us;" and here her lip quivered. "If you
+did not mean this to happen, you should have kept us apart all these
+years."
+
+"Oh, hush, dear!" whispered Dick in her ear; but Mr Mayne almost
+thrust him aside, and laid a rough grasp on the girl's wrist. "Never
+mind him: answer me one question. Are you serious in what you say,
+that you will never marry him without my permission?"
+
+"Of course I will not," answered Nan, quite shocked. "Dick would not
+ask me to do such a thing; he is far too honorable, and--and--no one
+would think of such a thing."
+
+"Very well; that is all I wanted to know;" and he released her, not
+over-gently: "the rest I can settle with Master Dick himself.
+Good-morning, Miss Nancy: under the circumstances I do not think I
+will wait to see your mother. I am not quite in the mood for ladies;
+perhaps, later on, I may have something to say to her."
+
+"Don't you mean to shake hands with me, Mr. Mayne?" asked poor Nan,
+much distressed at the evil temper of Dick's father; but there was no
+sign of softening.
+
+"Yes; I will shake hands with you, and gladly, if you will promise to
+be sensible and send this boy of mine about his business. Come now,
+Nan; own for my comfort that it is only a bit of boy-and-girl
+nonsense, that means nothing. I am not over-particular, and do not
+object to a bit of flirting with young folk."
+
+"You had better go with your father, Dick," returned Nan, with much
+dignity, and quite ignoring this speech.
+
+Dick seized the little hand that had been so rudely rejected, and
+kissed it under his father's eyes.
+
+"I will see you again somehow," he whispered, and Nan was quite
+content with this promise. Dick would keep his word, she knew: he
+would not leave Hadleigh without seeing her.
+
+A very unpleasant hour ensued for poor Dick. Mr. Mayne in one of his
+worst tempers; he had conducted himself to Nan in an ungentlemanly
+manner, and he knew it; as Dick said to himself,--
+
+"It is very hard on a fellow when one's father acts like a cad."
+
+Mr. Mayne had shown himself a cad. No gentleman by birth or breeding
+would have conducted himself in that offensive way. Bad temper had
+broken down the trammels of conventionality: never before in his life
+had Dick felt so utterly ashamed of his father. Mr. Mayne was
+conscious of his son's criticism, and it made things worse.
+
+It spoke well for Dick's prudence and self-command that he let the
+storm of his father's anger break over his head, and said no word. Mr.
+Mayne ranted and raved; I am afraid he even swore once or twice,--at
+least his language was undesirably strong,--and Dick walked beside him
+and held his peace. "Poor old boy, he is terribly cut up about this!"
+he thought once.
+
+Mr. Drummond saw them coming along, and wondered at the energy of the
+older man. Was it the visit to the Friary that had put him out? and
+then he fell anew into cogitation. Who were these people who were so
+curious about the Challoners? At least that sulky young fellow had
+taken no apparent interest, for he had made an excuse to leave them;
+but the other one had persisted in very close investigation. Perhaps
+he was some relation,--an uncle, or a distant cousin; evidently he had
+some right or claim to be displeased. Archie determined to solve the
+mystery as soon as possible.
+
+"Well, sir, have you nothing to say for yourself?" demanded Mr. Mayne,
+when he had fairly exhausted himself. He had disinherited Dick half a
+dozen times; he had deprived him of his liberal allowance; he had
+spoken of a projected voyage to New Zealand: and Dick had only walked
+on steadily, and thought of the cold trembling little hand he had
+kissed. "Have you nothing to say for yourself?" he vociferated.
+
+Dick woke up at this.
+
+"Oh, yes, I have plenty to say," he returned cheerfully; "but two
+cannot talk at once, you know. It was right for you to have the first
+innings, and all that; and I say, father,"--his filial feelings coming
+to the surface,--"I am awfully sorry, and so is Nan, to see you so
+vexed."
+
+"Speak for yourself," was the wrathful answer. "Don't mention that
+girl's name in my hearing for the present."
+
+"Whose name?--Nan's?" returned Dick, innocently. "I don't see how we
+are to keep it out of the conversation, when the row is all about her.
+Look here, father: I say again I am awfully sorry you are vexed; but
+as N--she says, it is too late to mend matters now. I have made my
+choice, for better for worse, and I am sorry it does not please you."
+
+"Please me!" retorted Mr. Mayne; and then he added, venomously: "The
+girl said you would not marry without my permission; but I will never
+give it. Come, Dick, it is no use thwarting me in this: you are our
+only child and we have other plans for you. Pshaw! you are only a boy!
+You have not seen the world yet. There are dozens of girls far
+prettier than this Nan. Give this nonsense up, and there is nothing I
+will not do for you; you shall travel, have your liberty, do as you
+like for the next two or three years, and I will not worry you about
+marrying. Why, you are only one-and-twenty; and you have two more
+years of University life! What an idea,--a fine young fellow like you
+talking of tying yourself down to matrimony!"
+
+"There is no use in my going back to Oxford, father," returned Dick,
+steadily; "thank you kindly all the same, but, it would be sheer waste
+of money. I have made up my mind to go into the City; it is the
+fashionable thing nowadays. And one does not need Greek and Latin for
+that, though, of course, it is an advantage to a fellow, and gives him
+a standing; but, as I have to get my own living, I cannot afford the
+two years. Your old chums Stanfield & Stanfield would give me a berth
+at once."
+
+"Is the boy mad? What on earth do you mean by all this tomfoolery?"
+demanded Mr. Mayne, unable to believe his ears. His small gray eyes
+opened widely and irately on his son; but Dick took no notice. He
+walked on, with his shoulders looking rather square and determined;
+the corners of his mouth were working rebelliously: evidently he did
+not dare to look at his father for fear of breaking into
+incontrollable laughter. Really the dear old boy was getting too
+absurd; he--Dick--could not stand it much longer. "What in the name of
+all that is foolish do you mean, sir?" thundered Mr. Mayne.
+
+Dick executed a low whistle, and then he said, in an aggrieved
+voice,--
+
+"Well, father, I don't call you very consistent. I suppose I know what
+being disinherited means? In plain language, you have told me about
+half a dozen times that if I stick to Nan I am not to expect a
+shilling of your money. Now, in my own mind, of course I call that
+precious hard on a fellow, considering I have not been such a bad
+sort of son after all. But I am not going to quarrel with you about
+that: a man has a right to do as he likes with his own money."
+
+"Yes; but, Dick, you are going to be sensible, you know, and drop the
+girl?" in a wheedling sort of tone.
+
+"Excuse me, father; I am going to do nothing of the kind," returned
+Dick, with sudden firmness. "I am going to stick to her, as you did to
+my mother; and for just as long, if it must be so. I am not a bit
+afraid that you will not give your permission, if we only wait long
+enough to prove that we are in earnest. The only thing I am anxious
+about is how I am to get my living; and that is why I will not consent
+to waste any more time at the University. The bar is too uphill work;
+money is made quickest in the City: so, if you will be good enough to
+give me an introduction to Stanfield & Stanfield,--I know they are a
+rattling good sort of people,--that is all I will trouble you about at
+present." And Dick drew in a long breath of relief after this weighty
+speech.
+
+"Do you mean this, Dick?" asked Mr. Mayne, rather feebly.
+
+They had reached the hotel now, and, as they entered the private room
+where their luncheon was awaiting them, he sat down as though he had
+grown suddenly old and tired, and rested his head on his hand, perhaps
+to hide the moisture that had gathered under his shaggy eyebrows.
+
+"Yes, father, I do," returned Dick; but he spoke very gently, and his
+hand touched his father's shoulder caressingly. "Let me give you some
+wine: all this business has taken it out of you."
+
+"Yes, I have had a blow, Dick,--my only boy has given me a blow,"
+returned Mr. Mayne, pathetically; but as he took the wine his hand
+trembled.
+
+"I am awfully sorry," answered Dick, penitently: "if there were
+anything else you had asked me but this--but I cannot give up Nan."
+And, as he pronounced the name, Dick's eyes shone with pride and
+tenderness. He was a soft-hearted, affectionate young fellow, and this
+quarrel with his father was costing him a great deal of pain. In
+everything else he would have been submissive to his parents; but now
+he had a purpose and responsibility in his life: he had to be faithful
+to the girl whom he had won; he must think for her now as well as for
+himself. How sweet was this sense of dual existence, this unity of
+heart and aim!
+
+Mr. Mayne fairly groaned as he read the expression on his son's face.
+Dick's youthful countenance was stamped with honest resolution. "I am
+going to stick to her, as you did to my mother."--that was what he had
+said. If this were true, it was all over with Dick's chances with the
+pretty little heiress; he would never look at her or her thirty
+thousand pounds; "but all the same he, Richard Mayne, would never
+consent to his son marrying a dressmaker. If she had only not
+disgraced herself, if she had not brought this humiliation on them, he
+might have been brought to listen to their pleading in good time and
+at his own pleasure; but now, never!--never!" he muttered, and set his
+teeth hard.
+
+"Dick," he said, suddenly, for there had been utter silence for a
+space.
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"You have upset me very much, and made me very unhappy; but I wish you
+to say nothing to your mother, and we will talk about this again.
+Promise me one thing,--that you will go back to Oxford at least until
+Christmas."
+
+"What is the good of that, sir?" asked his son, dubiously.
+
+"What is the good of anything? for you have taken every bit of
+pleasure out of my life; but at least you can do as much as this for
+me."
+
+"Oh, yes, father, if you wish it," returned Dick, more cheerfully;
+"but all the same I have fixed upon a City life."
+
+"We will talk of that again," replied his father; "and, Dick, we go
+home to-morrow, and, unless you promise me not to come down to
+Hadleigh between this and Christmas, I shall be obliged to speak to
+Mrs. Challoner."
+
+"Oh, there is no need for that," returned Dick, sulkily.
+
+"You give me your word?"
+
+"Oh, yes," pushing aside his chair with a kick. "It would be no use
+coming down to Hadleigh, for Nan would not speak to me. I know her too
+well for that. She has got such a conscience, you know. I shall write
+to her, but I do not know if she will answer my letters; but it does
+not matter: we shall both be true as steel. If you don't want me any
+more, I think I will have a cigar on the beach, for this room is
+confoundedly hot." And, without waiting for permission, Dick strode
+off, still sulky and fully aware that his father meant to follow him,
+for fear of his footsteps straying again down the Braidwood Road.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+"DICK IS TO BE OUR REAL BROTHER."
+
+
+Never was a father more devoted to his son's company than Mr. Mayne
+was that day. Dick's cigar was hardly alight before his father had
+joined him. When Dick grew weary of throwing stones aimlessly at
+imaginary objects, and voted the beach slow, Mr. Mayne proposed a walk
+with alacrity. They dined together,--not talking much, it is true, for
+Dick was still sulky, and his father tired and inclined to headache,
+but keeping up a show of conversation for the waiter's benefit. But
+when that functionary had retired, and the wine was on the table,
+Dick made no further effort to be agreeable, but placed himself in the
+window-seat and stared moodily at the sea, while his father watched
+him and drank his wine in silence.
+
+Mr. Mayne was fighting against drowsiness valiantly.
+
+Dick knew this, and was waiting for an opportunity to make his
+escape.
+
+"Had we not better ring for lights and coffee?" asked his father, as
+he felt the first ominous sensations stealing over him.
+
+"Not just yet. I feel rather disposed for a nap myself; and it is a
+shame to shut out the moonlight," returned that wicked Dick, calling
+up a fib to his aid, and closing his eyes as he spoke.
+
+The bait took. In another five minutes Mr. Mayne was nodding in
+earnest, and Dick on tiptoe had just softly closed the door behind
+him, and was taking his straw hat from its peg.
+
+Nan was walking up and down the little dark lawn, feeling restless and
+out of sorts after the agitation of the morning, when she heard a low
+whistle at the other side of the wall, and her heart felt suddenly as
+light as a feather.
+
+Dick saw her white gown as she came down the flagged path to the gate
+to let him in. The moonlight seemed to light it up with a sort of
+glory.
+
+"You are a darling not to keep me waiting, for we have not a moment to
+lose," he whispered, as she came up close to him. "He is asleep now,
+but he will wake up as soon as he misses me. Have you expected me
+before, Nan? But indeed I have not been left to myself a moment."
+
+"Oh, I knew all about it, my poor Dick," she answered, looking at him
+so softly. "Phillis is reading to mother in the parlor, and Dulce is
+in the work-room. I have nowhere to ask you unless you come in and
+talk to them. But mother is too upset to see you, I am afraid."
+
+"Let us wait here," returned Dick, boldly. "No one can hear what we
+say, and I must speak to you alone. No; I had better not see your
+mother to-night, and the girls would be in the way. Shall you be
+tired, dear, if you stand out here a moment talking to me? for I dare
+not wait long."
+
+"Oh, no, I shall not be tired," answered Nan gently. Tired, when she
+had her own Dick near her!--when she could speak to him,--look at
+him!
+
+"All right; but it is my duty to look after you, now you belong to
+me," returned Dick, proudly. "Whatever happens,--however long we may
+be separated,--you must remember that--that you belong to me,--that
+you will have to account to me if you do not take care of yourself."
+
+Nan smiled happily at this, and then she said,--
+
+"I have told mother all about it, and she is dreadfully distressed
+about your father's anger. She cried so, and took his part, and said
+she did not wonder that he would not listen to us; he would feel it
+such a disgrace, his son wanting to marry a dressmaker. She made me
+unhappy, too, when she put it all before me in that way," and here
+Nan's face paled perceptibly in the moonlight, "for she made me see
+how hard it is on him, and on your mother, too! Oh, Dick don't you
+think you ought to listen to them, and not have anything more to do
+with me?"
+
+"Nan, I am shocked at you!"
+
+"But, Dick!"
+
+"I tell you I am utterly shocked! You to say such a thing to my face,
+when we have been as good as engaged to each other all our lives! Who
+cares for the trumpery dressmaking? Not I!"
+
+"But your father!" persisted Nan, but very faintly, for Dick's eyes
+were blazing with anger.
+
+"Not another word! Nan, how dare you--after what you have promised
+this morning! Have I not been worried and badgered enough, without
+your turning on me in this way? If you won't marry me, you won't; but
+I shall be a bachelor all my life for your sake!" and Dick, who was so
+sore, poor fellow, that he was ready to quarrel with her out of the
+very fulness of his love, actually made a movement as though to leave
+her, only Nan caught him by the arm in quite a frightened way.
+
+"Dick! dear Dick!"
+
+"Well?" rather sullenly.
+
+"Oh, don't leave me like this! It would break my heart! I did not mean
+to make you angry. I was only pleading with you for your own good. Of
+course I will keep my promise. Have I not been true to you all my
+life? Oh, Dick! how can you turn from me like this?" And Nan actually
+began to sob in earnest, only Dick's sweet temper returned in a moment
+at the sight of her distress, and he fell to comforting her with all
+his might; and after this things went on more smoothly.
+
+He told her about his conversation with his father, and how he had
+planned a city life for himself; but here Nan timidly interposed:
+
+"Would that not be a pity, when you had always meant to study for the
+bar?"
+
+"Not a bit of it," was the confident answer. "That was my father's
+wish, not mine. I don't mind telling you in confidence that I am not
+at all a shining light. I am afraid I am rather a duffer, and shall
+not make my mark in the world. I have always thought desk-work must be
+rather a bore; but, after all, with a good introduction and a
+tolerable berth, one is pretty sure of getting on in the City. What I
+want is to make a little nest cosey for somebody, and as quick as
+possible,--eh, Nan?"
+
+"I do not mind waiting," faltered Nan. But she felt at this moment
+that no lover could have been so absolutely perfect as her Dick.
+
+"Oh, that is what girls always say," returned Dick, rather loftily.
+"They are never in a hurry. They would wait seven--ten years,--half a
+lifetime. But with us men it is different. I am not a bit afraid of
+you. I know you will stick to me like a brick, and all that; and
+father will come round when he sees we are in earnest. But all the
+same I want to have you to myself as soon as possible. A fellow likes
+the feeling of working for his wife. I hate to think of these pretty
+fingers stitching away for other people. I want them to work for me:
+do you understand, Nan?'" And Nan, of course, understood.
+
+Dick, poor fellow, had not much time for his love-making, he and Nan
+had too much business to settle. Nan had to explain to him that her
+mother was of opinion that under the present circumstances, nothing
+ought to be done to excite Mr. Mayne's wrath. Dick might write to her
+mother sometimes, just to let them know how he was getting on; but
+between the young people themselves there must be no correspondence.
+
+"Mother says it will not be honorable, and that we are not properly
+engaged." And, though Dick combated this rather stoutly, he gave in at
+last, and agreed that, until the new year, he would not claim his
+rights, or infringe the sacred privacy of the Friary.
+
+"And now I must go," said Dick, with a great sigh; "and it is good-bye
+for months. Now, I do not mean to ask your leave,--for you are such a
+girl for scruples, and all that, and you might take it into your head
+to refuse me: so there!"
+
+Dick's words were mysterious; but he very soon made his meaning
+plain.
+
+Nan said, "Oh, Dick!" but made no further protest. After all, whatever
+Mr. Mayne and her mother said, they were engaged.
+
+As Dick closed the little gate behind him, he was aware of a tall
+figure looming in the darkness.
+
+"Confound that parson! What does he mean by loafing about here?" he
+thought, feeling something like a pugnacious bull-dog at the prospect
+of a possible rival. "I forgot to ask Nan about him; but I dare say he
+is after one of the other girls." But these reflections were nipped in
+the bud, as the short, sturdy form of Mr. Mayne was dimly visible in
+the road.
+
+Dick chuckled softly: he could not help it.
+
+"All right, dear old boy," he said to himself; and then he stepped up
+briskly, and took his father's arm.
+
+"Do you call this honorable, sir?" began Mr. Mayne, in a most
+irascible voice.
+
+"I call it very neat," returned Dick, cheerfully. "My dear pater,
+everything is fair in love and war; and if you will nap at
+unseasonable times--but that comes of early rising, as I have often
+told you."
+
+"Hold your tongue, sir!" was the violent rejoinder. "It is a mean
+trick you have served me, and you know it. We will go back to-night;
+nothing will induce me to sleep in this place. You are not to be
+trusted. You told me a downright lie. You were humbugging me, sir,
+with your naps."
+
+"I will plead guilty to a fib, if you like," was Dick's careless
+answer. "What a fuss you are making, father! Did you never tell one in
+your life? Now, what is the use of putting yourself out?--it is not
+good at your age, sir. What would my mother say? It might bring on
+apoplexy, after that port-wine."
+
+"Confound your impertinence!" rejoined Mr. Mayne, angrily; but Dick
+patted his coat-sleeve pleasantly:
+
+"There, that will do. I think you have relieved your feelings
+sufficiently. Now we will go to business. I have seen Nan, and told
+her all about it; and she has had it out with her mother. Mrs.
+Challoner will not hear of our writing to each other; and I am not to
+show my face at the Friary without your permission. There is no
+fibbing or want of honor there: Nan is not the girl to encourage a
+fellow to take liberties."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" sneered Mr. Mayne; but he listened attentively for all
+that. And his gloomy eyebrows relaxed in the darkness. The girl was
+not behaving so badly, after all.
+
+"So we said good-bye," continued Dick, keeping the latter part of the
+interview to himself; "and in October I shall go back for the term, as
+I promised. We can settle about the other things after Christmas."
+
+"Oh, yes, we can talk about that by and by," replied his father,
+hastily; and then he waxed cheerful all at once, and called his son's
+attention to some new houses they were building. "After all, Hadleigh
+is not such a bad little place," he observed; "and they gave us a very
+good dinner at the hotel. It is not every one who can cook fish like
+that." And then Dick knew that the storm had blown over for the
+present, and that his father intended to make himself pleasant and
+ignore all troublesome topics.
+
+Dick was a little tired when he went to bed; but, on the whole, he was
+not unhappy. It was quite true that the idea of a City life was
+repugnant to him, but the thought of Nan sweetened even that. Nothing
+else remained to him if his father chose to be disagreeable and
+withdraw his allowance, or threaten to cut him off with a shilling, as
+other fellows' fathers did in novels.
+
+"It is uncommonly unpleasant, having to wage war with one's own
+father," thought Dick, as he laid his sandy head on the pillow. "He is
+such an old trump, too, that it goes against the grain. But when it
+comes to his wanting to choose a wife for me, it is too much of a good
+thing: it is tyranny fit for the Middle Ages. Let him threaten if he
+likes. He will find I shall take his threats in earnest. After
+Christmas I will have it out with him again; and if he will not listen
+to reason, I will go up to Mr. James Stanfield myself, and then he
+will see that I mean what I say. Heigho! I am not such a lucky fellow
+as Hamilton always thinks me." And at this juncture of his sad
+cogitations Dick forgot all about it, and fell asleep.
+
+Yes, Dick slept the sleep of the just. It was Mr. Drummond who was
+wakeful and uneasy that night. A vague sense of something wrong
+tormented him waking and sleeping.
+
+Who was that sandy-headed young fellow who had been twice to the
+Friary that day. What business had he to be shutting the gate after
+him in that free-and-easy way at ten o'clock at night? He must find it
+out somehow; he must make an excuse for calling there, and put the
+question as indifferently as he could; but even when he made up his
+mind to pursue this course, Archie felt just as restless as ever.
+
+He made his way to the cottage as early as possible. Phillis, who was
+alone in the work-room, colored a little as she saw him coming in at
+the gate. He came so often, he was so kind, so attentive to them all,
+and yet she had a dim doubt in her mind that troubled her at times.
+Was it for Nan's sake that he came? Could she speak and undeceive him
+before things went too far with him? Yes, when the opportunity
+offered, she thought she could speak, even though the speaking would
+be painful to her.
+
+Mr. Drummond looked round the room with a disappointed air as he
+entered, and then he came up to Phillis.
+
+"You are alone?" he said, with a regretful accent in his voice; at
+least Phillis fancied she detected it. "How is that? Are your sisters
+out, or busy?"
+
+"Oh, we are always busy," returned Phillis, lightly; but, curiously
+enough, she felt a little sore at his tone. "Nan has gone down to
+Albert Terrace to take a fresh order, and Dulce is in the town
+somewhere with mother. Don't you mean to sit down, Mr. Drummond? or is
+your business with mother? She will not be back just yet, but I could
+give her any message." Phillis said this as she stitched away with
+energy; but one quick glance had shown her that Mr. Drummond was
+looking irresolute and ill at ease as he stood beside her.
+
+"Thank you, but I must not stay and hinder you. Yes, my business was
+with your mother; but it is of no consequence, and I can call again."
+Nevertheless, he sat down and deposited his felt hat awkwardly enough
+on the table. He liked Phillis, but he was a little afraid of her; she
+was shrewd, and seemed to have the knack of reading one's thoughts. He
+was wondering how he should bring his question on the _tapis_; but
+Phillis, by some marvellous intuition that really surprised her, had
+already come to the conclusion that this visit meant something. He had
+seen Dick; perhaps he wanted to find out all about him. Certainly he
+was not quite himself to-day. Yes, that must be what he wanted.
+Phillis's kind heart and mother-wit were always ready for an
+emergency.
+
+"How full Hadleigh is getting!" she remarked, pleasantly, as she
+adjusted the trimming of a sleeve. "Do you know some old neighbors of
+ours from Oldfield turned up unexpectedly yesterday? They are going
+away to-day, though," she added, with a little regret in her voice.
+
+Archie brightened up visibly at this.
+
+"Oh, indeed!" he observed, with alacrity. "Not a very long visit.
+Perhaps they came down purposely to see you?"
+
+"Yes, of course," returned Phillis, confusedly. "They had intended
+staying some days at the hotel, but Mr. Mayne suddenly changed his
+mind, much to our and Dick's disappointment; but it could not be
+helped."
+
+"Dick," echoed Archie, a little surprised at this familiarity and then
+he added, somewhat awkwardly, "I think I saw the young man and his
+father at the Library yesterday; and last night as I was coming from
+the station I encountered him again at your gate."
+
+"Yes, that was Dick," answered Phillis, stooping a little over her
+work. "He is not handsome, poor fellow! but he is as nice as possible.
+They live at Longmead; that is next door to our dear old Glen Cottage,
+and the gardens adjoin. We call him Dick because we have known him all
+our lives, and he has been a sort of brother to us."
+
+"Oh, yes, I see," drawled Archie, slowly. "That sort of thing is very
+nice when you have not a man belonging to you. It is a little awkward
+sometimes, for people do not always see this sort of relationship. He
+seemed a nice sort of fellow, I should say," he continued, in his
+patronizing way, stroking his beard complacently. After all, the
+sandy-headed youth was no possible rival.
+
+"Oh, Dick is ever so nice," answered Phillis, enthusiastically; "not
+good enough for--" and then she stopped and broke her thread. "I am
+glad we are so fond of him," she continued, rather hurriedly, "because
+Dick is to be our real brother some day. He and Nan have cared for
+each other all their lives, and, though Mr. Mayne is dreadfully angry
+about it, they consider themselves as good as engaged, and mean to
+live down his opposition. They came to an understanding yesterday,"
+finished Phillis, who was determined to bring it all out.
+
+"Oh, indeed!" returned Archie: "that must be a great relief, I am
+sure. There is your little dog whining at the door; may I let him in?"
+And, without waiting for an answer, Archie had darted out in pursuit
+of Laddie, but not before Phillis's swift upward glance had shown her
+a face that had grown perceptibly paler in the last few minutes.
+
+"Oh, poor fellow! I was right!" thought Phillis, and the tears rushed
+to her eyes. "It was best to speak. I see that now; and he will get
+over it if he thinks no one knows it. How I wish I could help him! but
+it will never do to show the least sympathy: I have no right." And
+here Phillis sighed, and her gray eyes grew dark with pain for a
+moment. Archie was rather a long time absent; and then he came back
+with Laddie in his arms, and stood by the window.
+
+"Your news has interested me very much," he said, and his voice was
+quite steady. "I suppose, as this--this engagement is not public, I
+had better not wish your sister joy, unless you do it for me."
+
+"Oh, no; there is no need of that," returned Phillis, in a low voice.
+"Mother might not like my mentioning it; but I thought you might
+wonder about Dick, and----" here Phillis got confused.
+
+"Thank you," replied Archie, quietly; but now he looked at her. "You
+are very kind. Yes, it was best for me to know." And then, as Phillis
+rose and gave him her hand, for he had taken up his hat as he spoke,
+she read at once that her caution had been in vain,--that he had full
+understanding why the news had been told to him, and to him only, and
+that he was grateful to her for so telling him.
+
+Poor Phillis! she had accomplished her task; and yet as the door
+closed behind the young clergyman, two or three tears fell on her
+work. He was not angry with her; on the contrary, he had thanked her,
+and the grasp of his hand had been as cordial as ever. But, in spite
+of the steadiness of his voice and look, the arrow had pierced between
+the joints of his armor. He might not be fatally wounded,--that was
+not in the girl's power to know; but that he was in some way
+hurt,--made miserable with a man's misery,--of this she was acutely
+sensible; and the strangest longing to comfort him--to tell him how
+much she admired his fortitude--came over her, with a strong stinging
+pain that surprised her.
+
+Archie had the longest walk that day that he had ever had in his life.
+He came in quite fagged and foot-sore to his dinner, and far too tired
+to eat. Mattie told him he looked ill and worn out; but, though he
+generally resented any such personal remarks, he merely told her very
+gently that he was tired, and that he would like a cup of coffee in
+his study, and not to be disturbed. And when she took in the coffee
+presently, she found him buried in the depths of his easy-chair, and
+evidently half asleep, and stole out of the room on tiptoe.
+
+But his eyes opened very speedily as soon as the door closed upon her.
+It was not sleep he wanted, but some moral strength to bear a pain
+that threatened to be unendurable. How had that girl read his secret?
+Surely he had not betrayed himself! Nan had not discovered it, for her
+calmness and sweet unconsciousness had never varied in his presence.
+Never for an instant had her changing color testified to the faintest
+uneasiness. He understood the reason of her reserve now. Her thoughts
+had been with this Dick; and here Archie groaned and hid his face.
+
+Not mortally hurt, perhaps; but still the pain and the sense of loss
+were very bitter to this young man, who had felt for weeks past that
+his life was permeated by the sweetness and graciousness of Nan's
+presence. How lovely she had seemed to him,--the ideal girl of his
+dreams! It was love at first sight. He knew that now. His man's heart
+had been set on the hope of winning her, and now she was lost to him.
+
+Never for one moment had she belonged to him, or could belong to him.
+"He and Nan have cared for each other all their lives,"--that was what
+her sister had told him; and what remained but for him to stamp out
+this craze and fever before it mastered him and robbed him of his
+peace?
+
+"I am not the only man who has had to suffer," thought Archie, as
+hours after he stumbled up to bed in the darkness. "At least, it makes
+it easier to know that no one shares my pain. These things are better
+battled out alone. I could not bear even Grace's sympathy in this."
+And yet as Archie said this to himself, he recalled without any
+bitterness the half-tender, half pitying look in Phillis's eyes. "She
+was sorry for me. She saw it all; and it was kind of her to tell me,"
+thought the young man.
+
+He had no idea that Phillis was at that moment whispering little
+wistful prayers in the darkness that he might soon be comforted.
+
+Who knows how many such prayers are flung out into the deep of God's
+mercy,--comfort for such a one whom we would fain comfort ourselves;
+feeble utterances and cries of pity; the stretching out of helpless
+hands, which nevertheless may bring down blessings? But so it shall be
+while men and women struggle and fall, and weep the tears common to
+humanity, "until all eyes are dried in the clear light of eternity,
+and the sorest heart shall then own the wisdom of the cross that had
+been laid upon them."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+"THIS IS LIFE AND DEATH TO ME."
+
+
+Phillis found it difficult during the next few days to reconcile
+divided sympathies; a nice adjustment of conflicting feelings seemed
+almost impossible. Nan was so simply, so transparently happy, that no
+sister worthy of the name could refuse to rejoice with her: a creature
+so brimming over with gladness, with contented love, was certain to
+reflect heart-sunshine. On the other hand, there was Mr. Drummond! To
+be glad and sorry in a breath was as provoking to a feeling woman as
+the traveller's blowing hot and cold was to the satyr in the fable.
+
+In trying to preserve an even balance Phillis became decidedly cross.
+She was one who liked a clear temperature,--neither torrid nor frigid.
+Too much susceptibility gave her an east-windy feeling; to be always
+at the fever-point of sympathy with one's fellow-creatures would not
+have suited her at all.
+
+Nan, who possessed more sweetness of temper than keenness of
+psychological insight, could not understand what had come to Phillis.
+She was absent, a trifle sad, and yet full of retort. At times she
+seemed to brim over with a wordy wisdom that made no sort of
+impression.
+
+One evening, as they were retiring to bed, Nan beckoned her into her
+little room, and shut the door. Then she placed a seat invitingly by
+the open window, which was pleasantly framed by jasmine; and then she
+took hold of Phillis's shoulders in a persuasive manner.
+
+"Now, dear," she said, coaxingly, "you shall just tell me all about
+it."
+
+Phillis looked up, a little startled. Then, as she met Nan's gentle,
+penetrative glance, she presented a sudden blank of non-comprehension,
+most telling on such occasions, and yawned slightly.
+
+"What do you mean, Nannie?" in a somewhat bored tone.
+
+"Come, dear, tell me," continued Nan, with cheerful pertinacity. "You
+are never dull or touchy without some good reason. What has been the
+matter the last few days? Are you vexed or disappointed about
+anything? Are you sure--quite sure you are pleased about Dick?"--the
+idea occurring to her suddenly that Phillis might not approve of their
+imprudent engagement.
+
+"Oh, Nannie, how absurd you are!" returned Phillis, pettishly. "Have I
+not told you a dozen times since Wednesday how delighted I am that you
+have come to an understanding? Have I not sounded his praises until I
+was hoarse? Why, if I had been in love with Dick myself I could not
+have talked about him more."
+
+"Yes, I know you have been very good, dear; but still I felt there was
+something."
+
+"Oh, dear, no!" returned Phillis decidedly, and her voice was a little
+hard. "The fact is, you are in the seventh heaven yourself, and you
+expect us to be there too. Not that I wonder at you, Nannie, because
+Dick--dear old fellow--is ever so nice."
+
+She threw in this last clause not without intention, and of course the
+tempting bait took at once.
+
+"I never knew any one half so good," replied Nan, in a calmly
+satisfied tone. "You have hinted once or twice, Phil, that you thought
+him rather too young,--that our being the same age was a pity; but--do
+you know?--in Dick's case it does not matter in the least. No man
+double his age could have made his meaning more plain, or have spoken
+better to the purpose. He is so strong and self-reliant and manly: and
+with all his fun, he is so unselfish."
+
+"He will make you a very good husband, Nan; I am sure of that."
+
+"I think he will," returned Nan, with a far-away look in her eyes.
+She was recalling Dick's speech about the nest that he wanted to make
+cosey for some one. "Phil, dear," she went on, after this blissful
+pause, "I wish you had a Dick too."
+
+"Good Gracious, Nannie!"
+
+"I mean--you know what I mean,--some one to whom you are first, and
+who has a right to care for you; it gives such a meaning to one's
+life. Of course it will come in time; no one can look at you and not
+prophesy a happy future: it is only I who am impatient and want it to
+come soon."
+
+Phillis wrinkled her brows thoughtfully over this speech: she seemed
+inclined to digest and assimilate it.
+
+"I dare say you are right," she replied, after a pause. "Yes it would
+be nice, no doubt."
+
+"When the real _he_ comes, you will find how nice it is," rejoined
+Nan, with sympathetic readiness. "Do you know, Phil, the idea has once
+or twice occurred to me that Mr. Drummond comes rather often!" But
+here Phillis shook off her hand and started from her chair.
+
+"There is a moth singing its wings. Poor wee beastie! let me save it,
+if it be not too late." And she chased the insect most patiently until
+the blue-gray wings fluttered into her hand.
+
+"There, I have saved him from utter destruction!" she cried
+triumphantly, leaning out into the darkness. "He has scorched himself,
+that is all;" then as she walked back to her sister, her head was
+erect, and there was a beautiful earnest look upon her face.
+
+"Nannie, I don't want to find fault with you, but don't you remember
+how we used to pride ourselves, in the dear old days, in not being
+like other girls,--the Paines, for example, or even Adelaide Sartoris,
+who used to gossip so much about young men."
+
+Nan opened her eyes widely at this, but made no answer.
+
+"We must not be different now, because our life is narrower and more
+monotonous. I know, talking so much over our work, we have terrible
+temptations to gossip; but I can't bear to think that we should ever
+lower our standard, ever degenerate into the feeble girlishness we
+abhor. We never used to talk about young men, Nan, except Dick; and
+that did not matter. Of course we liked them in their places, and had
+plenty of fun, and tormented them a little; but you never made such a
+speech as that at Glen Cottage."
+
+"Oh, dear! oh, dear! What have I done?" exclaimed Nan, much distressed
+at this rebuke. "I do think you are right, Phil; and it was naughty of
+me to put such a thing into your head."
+
+"You have put no idea into my head," replied Phillis, with crisp
+obstinacy. "There! I am only moralizing for my own good, as well as
+yours. Small beginnings make great endings. If we once began to
+gossip, we might end by flirting; and, Nan, if you knew how I hate
+that sort of thing!" And Phillis looked grand and scornful.
+
+"Yes, dear; and I know you are right," returned Nan, humbly. She was
+not quite sure what she had done to provoke this outburst of high
+moral feeling: but she felt that Phillis was dreadfully in earnest.
+They kissed each other rather solemnly after that, and Phillis was
+suffered to depart in silence.
+
+That night there was no wistful little prayer that Mr. Drummond might
+be comforted: Phillis had too many petitions to offer up on her own
+account. She was accusing herself of pride, and Pharisaism, and
+hypocrisy, in no measured terms. "Not like other girls! I am
+worse,--worse," she said to herself. And then, among other things, she
+asked for the gift of content,--for a quiet, satisfied spirit, not
+craving or embittered,--strength to bear her own and her friends'
+troubles, and far-looking faith to discern "God's perfectness round
+our uncompleteness,--round our restlessness His rest."
+
+The following evening, as Phillis was sorting out patterns in the
+work-room, a note was brought to her from the White House. It was in
+Mrs. Cheyne's handwriting, and, like herself, strangely abrupt.
+
+"Your visits are like angels' visits,--extremely rare," it began. "I
+am afraid I have frightened you away, as I have frightened the parson.
+I thought you had more wit than he to discern between mannerism and
+downright ill-humor. This evening the temperature is equable,--not the
+sign of a brooding cloud: so put on your hat, like a good girl, and
+come over. Miss Mewlstone and I will be prepared to welcome you."
+
+"You had better go," observed Nan, who had read the note over her
+sister's shoulder: "you have worked so dreadfully hard all day, and it
+will be a little change."
+
+"No one cares for east winds as a change," replied Phillis, dryly;
+nevertheless, she made up her mind that she would go. She was
+beginning to dread being summoned to the White House: she felt that
+Mrs. Cheyne alternately fascinated and repelled her. She was growing
+fond of Miss Mewlstone; but then, on these occasions, she had so
+little intercourse with her. The charitable instinct that was always
+ready to be kindled in Phillis's nature prompted her to pay these
+visits; and yet she always went reluctantly.
+
+She had two encounters on the road, both of which she had foreseen
+with nice presentiment.
+
+The first was with Mr. Drummond.
+
+He was walking along slowly, with his eyes on the ground. A sort of
+flush came to his face when he saw Phillis; and then he stopped, and
+shook hands, and asked after them all comprehensively, yet with
+constraint in his voice. Phillis told him rather hurriedly that she
+was going to the White House: Mrs. Cheyne had sent for her.
+
+Archie smiled:
+
+"I am glad she does not send for me. I have not been there for a long
+time. Sarcasm is not an attractive form of welcome. It slams the door
+in a man's face. I hope you will not get some hard hits, Miss
+Challoner." And then he went on his way.
+
+As she approached Mrs. Williams's cottage, Mr. Dancy was, as usual,
+leaning against the little gate. He stepped out in the road, and
+accosted her.
+
+"I have not called on your mother," he began, rather abruptly. "After
+all, I thought it best not to trouble her just now. Can you spare me a
+few minutes? or are you going in there?" looking towards the White
+House.
+
+"I am rather in a hurry," returned Phillis, surprised at his manner,
+it seemed so agitated. "I am already late, and Mrs. Cheyne will be
+expecting me."
+
+"Very well: another time," he replied, stepping back without further
+ceremony; but until Phillis's figure disappeared in the trees he
+watched her, leaning still upon the little gate.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne received her with a frosty smile; but, on the whole, her
+manner was more gracious than usual, and by and by it thawed
+completely.
+
+She was a little captious at first, it was true, and she snubbed poor
+Miss Mewlstone decidedly once or twice,--but then Miss Mewlstone was
+used to being snubbed,--but with Phillis she was sparing of sarcasms.
+After a time she began to look kindly at the girl; then she bade her
+talk, rather peremptorily, because she liked her voice and found it
+pleasant to listen to her; and by and by Phillis grew more at her
+ease, and her girlish talk rippled on as smoothly as possible.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne's face softened and grew strangely handsome as she
+listened: she was drawing Phillis out,--leading her to speak of the
+old life, and of all their youthful sources of happiness. Then she
+fell into a retrospect of her own young days, when she was a spoiled
+madcap girl and had all sorts of daring adventures.
+
+Phillis was quite fascinated; she was even disappointed when Miss
+Mewlstone pointed out the lateness of the hour.
+
+"I have enjoyed myself so much," she said, as she put on her hat.
+
+"I meant you to enjoy yourself," returned Mrs. Cheyne, quietly, as she
+drew the girl's face down to hers. "I have given you such a bad
+impression that you look on me as a sort of moral bugbear. I can be
+very different, when I like, and I have liked to be agreeable
+to-night." And then this strange woman took up a rich cashmere shawl
+from the couch where she was lying, and folded it around Phillis's
+shoulders. "The evenings are chilly. Jeffreys can bring this back with
+her;" for Mrs. Cheyne had already decided that this time her maid
+should accompany Phillis to the cottage.
+
+Phillis laughed in an amused fashion as she saw the reflection of
+herself in one of the mirrors: her figure looked quite queenly
+enveloped in the regal drapery. "She has forgotten all about the
+dressmaking," she thought to herself, as she tripped downstairs.
+
+It was a lovely moonlight evening; the avenue was white and glistening
+in the soft light; the trees cast weird shadows on the grass. Phillis
+was somewhat surprised to see in the distance Mr. Dancy's tall figure
+pacing to and fro before the lodge-gate. He was evidently waiting for
+her; for as she approached he threw away his cigar and joined her at
+once. Jeffreys, who thought he was some old acquaintance, dropped
+behind very discreetly, after the manner of waiting-women.
+
+"How long you have stayed this evening! I have been walking up and
+down for more than an hour, watching for you," he began, with curious
+abruptness.
+
+This and no more did Jeffreys hear before she lingered out of earshot.
+The lady's maid thought she perceived an interesting situation, and
+being of a susceptible and sympathetic temperament, with a blighted
+attachment of her own, there was no fear of her intruding. Phillis
+looked around once, but Jeffreys was absorbed in her contemplations of
+the clouds.
+
+"I thought you were never coming," he continued; and then he stopped
+all at once, and caught hold of the fringe of the shawl. "This is not
+yours: I am sure I have seen Magdalene in it. Pshaw! what am I saying?
+the force of old habit. I knew her once as Magdalene."
+
+"It is dreadfully heavy, and, after all, the evening is so warm,"
+returned Phillis, taking no notice of this incoherent speech.
+
+"Let me carry it," he rejoined, with singular eagerness; "it is
+absurd, a wrap like that on such a night." And, while Phillis
+hesitated, he drew the shawl from her shoulders and hung it over his
+arm, and all the way his disengaged right hand rested on the folds,
+touching it softly from time to time, as though the mere feeling of
+the texture pleased him.
+
+"How was she to-night?" he asked, coming a little closer to Phillis,
+and dropping his voice as he spoke.
+
+"Who?--Mrs. Cheyne? Oh, she was charming! just a little cold and
+captious at first, but that is her way. But this evening she was bent
+on fascinating me, and she quite succeeded; she looked ill, though,
+but very, very beautiful."
+
+"She never goes out. I cannot catch a glimpse of her," he returned,
+hurriedly. "Miss Challoner, I am going to startle--shock you, perhaps;
+but I have thought about it all until my head is dizzy, and there is
+no other way. Please give me your attention a moment," for Phillis,
+with a vague sense of uneasiness, had looked around for Jeffreys. "I
+must see you alone: I must speak to you where we shall not be
+interrupted. To call on your mother will be no good; you and only you
+can help me. And you are so strong and merciful--I can read that in
+your eyes--that I am sure of your sympathy, if you will only give me a
+hearing."
+
+"Mr. Dancy! oh, what can you mean?" exclaimed Phillis. She was
+dreadfully frightened at his earnestness, but her voice was dignified,
+and she drew herself away with a movement full of pride and _hauteur_.
+"You are a stranger to me; you have no right----"
+
+"The good Samaritan was a stranger too. Have you forgotten that?" he
+returned, in a voice of grave rebuke. "Oh, you are a girl; you are
+thinking of your mother! I have shocked your sense of propriety, my
+child; for you seem a child to me, who have lived and suffered so
+much. Would you hesitate an instant if some poor famishing wretch were
+to ask you for food or water? Well, I am that poor wretch. What I have
+to tell you is a matter of life and death to me. Only a woman--only
+you--can help me; and you shrink because we have not had a proper
+introduction. My dear young lady, you have nothing to fear from me. I
+am unfortunate, but a gentleman,--a married man, if that will satisfy
+your scruples----"
+
+"But my mother," faltered Phillis, not knowing what to say to this
+unfortunate stranger, who terrified and yet attracted her by turns.
+
+Never had she heard a human voice so persuasive, and yet so agonized
+in its intensity. A conviction of the truth of his words seized upon
+her as she listened,--that he was unhappy, that he needed her sympathy
+for some purpose of his own, and yet that she herself had nothing to
+do with his purpose. But what would Nan say if she consented--if she
+acceded to such an extraordinary proposition--to appoint a meeting
+with a stranger?
+
+"It is life and death to me; remember that!" continued Mr. Dancy, in
+that low, suppressed voice of agitation. "If you refuse on the score
+of mere girlish propriety, you will regret it. I am sure of that.
+Trust to your own brave heart, and let it answer for you. Will you
+refuse this trifling act of mercy,--just to let me speak to you alone,
+and tell you my story? When you have heard that, you will take things
+into your own hands."
+
+Phillis hesitated, and grew pale with anxiety; but the instincts of
+her nature were stronger than her prudence. From the first she had
+believed in this man, and felt interested in him and his mysterious
+surroundings. "One may be deceived in a face, but never in a voice,"
+she had said, in her pretty dictatorial way; and now this voice was
+winning her over to his side.
+
+"It is not right; but what can I do? You say I can help you."--And
+then she paused. "To-morrow morning I have to take some work to Rock
+Building. I shall not be long. But I could go on the beach for half an
+hour. Nan would spare me. I might hear your story then."
+
+She spoke rapidly, and rather ungraciously, as though she were
+dispensing largess to a troublesome mendicant; but Mr. Dancy's answer
+was humble in its intense gratitude.
+
+"God bless you! I knew your kind heart was to be trusted There! I will
+not come any farther. Good-night; good-night, a thousand thanks!" And,
+before Phillis could reply, this strange being had left her side, and
+was laying the cashmere shawl in Jeffreys's arms slowly and tenderly,
+as though it were a child.
+
+Phillis was glad that Dulce opened the door to her that night, for she
+was afraid of Nan's questioning glance. Nan was tired, and had retired
+early; and, as Dulce was sleepy too, Phillis was now left in peace.
+She passed the night restlessly, walking up at all sorts of untimely
+hours, her conscience pricking her into wakefulness. To her
+well-ordered nature there was something terrifying in the thought that
+she should be forced to take such a step.
+
+"Oh, what would mother and Nan say?" was her one cry.
+
+"I know I am dreadfully impulsive and imprudent, but Nan would think I
+am not to be trusted;" but she had passed her word, and nothing now
+would have induced her to swerve from it.
+
+She ate her breakfast silently, and with a sense of oppression and
+guilt quite new to her. She grew inwardly hot whenever Nan looked at
+her, which she did continually and with the utmost affection. Before
+the meal was over, however, Miss Middleton and Mattie made their
+appearance, and in the slight bustle of entrance Phillis managed to
+effect her escape.
+
+The hour that followed bore the unreality of a nightmare. Outwardly,
+Phillis was the grave, business-like dressmaker. The lady who had sent
+for her, and who was a stranger to Hadleigh, was much struck with her
+quiet self-possessed manners and lady-like demeanor.
+
+"Her voice was quite refined," she said afterwards to her daughter.
+"And she had such a nice face and beautiful figure. I am sure she is a
+reduced gentlewoman, for her accent was perfect. I am quite obliged to
+Miss Milner for recommending us such a person, for she evidently
+understands her business. One thing I noticed, Ada,--the way in which
+she quietly laid down the parcel, and said it should be fetched
+presently. Any ordinary dressmaker in a small town like this would
+have carried it home herself."
+
+Poor Phillis! she had laid down the parcel and drawn on her
+well-fitting gloves with a curious sinking at her heart: from the
+window of the house in Rock Building she could distinctly see Mr.
+Dancy walking up and down the narrow plat of grass before the houses,
+behind the tamarisk hedge, his foreign-looking cloak and slouch hat
+making him conspicuous.
+
+"There is that queer-looking man again, mamma," exclaimed one of the
+young ladies, who was seated in the window. "I am sure he is some
+distinguished foreigner, he has such an air with him."
+
+Phillis listened to no more, but hurried down the stairs and then
+prepared to cross the green with some degree of trepidation. She was
+half afraid that Mr. Dancy would join her at once, in the full view of
+curious eyes; but he knew better. He sauntered on slowly until she had
+reached the Parade and was going towards a part of the beach where
+there was only a knot of children wading knee-deep in the water,
+sailing a toy-boat. She stood and watched them dreamily, until the
+voice she expected sounded in her ear:
+
+"True as steel! Ah, I was never deceived in a face yet. Where shall we
+sit, Miss Challoner? Yes, this is a quiet corner, and the children
+will not disturb us. Look at that urchin, with his bare brown legs and
+curly head: is he not a study? Ah, if he had lived--my----" And then
+he sighed, and threw himself on the beach.
+
+"Well," observed Phillis, interrogatively. She was inclined to be
+short with him this morning. She had kept her word, and put herself
+into this annoying position; but there must be no hesitation, no
+beating about the bush, no loss of precious time. The story she had
+now to hear must be told, and with out delay.
+
+Mr. Dancy raised his eyes as he heard the tone, and then he took off
+his spectacles as though he felt them an incumbrance. Phillis had a
+very good view of a pair of handsome eyes, with a lurking gleam of
+humor in them, which speedily died away into sadness.
+
+"You are in a hurry; but I was thinking how I could best begin without
+startling you. But I may as well get it out without any prelude. Miss
+Challoner, to Mrs. Williams I am only Mr. Dancy; but my real name is
+Herbert Dancy Cheyne."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+MISS MEWLSTONE HAS AN INTERRUPTION.
+
+
+"HERBERT DANCY CHEYNE!"
+
+As he pronounced the name slowly and with marked emphasis, a low cry
+of uncontrollable astonishment broke from Phillis: it was so
+unexpected. She began to shiver a little from the sudden shock.
+
+"There! I have startled you,--and no wonder; and yet how could I help
+it? Yes," he repeated, calmly, "I am that unfortunate Herbert Cheyne
+whom his own wife believes to be dead."
+
+"Whom every one believes to be dead," corrected Phillis, in a panting
+breath.
+
+"Is it any wonder?" he returned, vehemently; and his eyes darkened,
+and his whole features worked, as though with the recollection of some
+unbearable pain. "Have I not been snatched from the very jaws of
+death? Has not mine been a living death, a hideous grave, for these
+four years?" And then, hurriedly and almost disconnectedly, as though
+the mere recalling the past was torture to him, he poured into the
+girl's shrinking ears fragments of a story so stern in its reality, so
+terrible in its details, that, regardless of the children that played
+on the margin of the water, Phillis hid her face in her hands and wept
+for sheer pity.
+
+Wounded, bereft of all his friends, and left apparently dying in the
+hands of a hostile tribe, Herbert Cheyne had owed his life to the
+mercy of a woman, a poor, degraded ill-used creature, half-witted and
+ugly, but who had not lost all the instincts of her womanhood, and who
+fed and nursed the white stranger as tenderly as though he were her
+own son.
+
+While the old negress lived, Herbert Cheyne had been left in peace to
+languish back to life, through days and nights of intolerable
+suffering, until he had regained a portion of his old strength; then a
+fever carried off his protectress, and he became virtually a slave.
+
+Out of pity for the tender-hearted girl who listened to him, Mr.
+Cheyne hurried over this part of his sorrowful past. He spoke briefly
+of indignities, abuse, and at last of positive ill treatment. Again
+and again his life had been in danger from brute violence; again and
+again he had striven to escape, and had been recaptured with blows.
+
+Phillis pointed mutely to his scarred wrists, and the tears flowed
+down her cheeks.
+
+"Yes, yes; these are the marks of my slavery," he replied, bitterly.
+"They were a set of hideous brutes; and the fetish they worshipped was
+cruelty. I carry about me other marks that must go with me to my
+grave; but there is no need to dwell on these horrors. He sent His
+angel to deliver me," he continued, reverently; "and again my
+benefactor was a woman."
+
+And then he went on to tell Phillis that one of the wives of the chief
+in whose service he was took pity on him, and aided him to escape on
+the very night before some great festival, when it had been determined
+to kill him. This time he had succeeded; and, after a series of
+hair-breadth adventures, he had fallen in with some Dutch traders who
+had come far into the interior in search of ivory tusks. He was so
+burnt by the sun and disfigured by paint that he had great difficulty
+in proving his identity as an Englishman. But at last they had
+suffered him to join them, and after some more months of wandering he
+had worked his way to the coast.
+
+There misfortune bad again overtaken him, in the form of a long and
+tedious illness. Fatigue, disaster, anguish of mind, and a slight
+sunstroke had taken dire effect upon him; but this time he had fallen
+into the hands of good Samaritans. The widowed sister of the consul, a
+very Dorcas of good works, had received the miserable stranger into
+her house; and she and her son, like Elijah's widow of Zarephath, had
+shared with him their scanty all.
+
+"They were very poor, but they pinched themselves for the sake of the
+stricken wretch that was thrown on their mercy. It was a woman again
+who succored me the third time," continued Mr. Cheyne: "you may judge
+how sacred women are in my eyes now! Dear motherly Mrs. Van Hollick!
+when she at last suffered me to depart, she kissed and blessed me as
+though I were her own son. Never to my dying day shall I forget her
+goodness. My one thought, after seeing Magdalene, will be how I am to
+repay her goodness,--how I can make prosperity flow in on the little
+household, that the cruse and cake may never fail!"
+
+"But," interrupted Phillis at this point, "did you not write, or your
+friends write for you, to England?"
+
+Mr. Cheyne smiled bitterly:
+
+"It seems as though some strange fatality were over me. Yes, I wrote.
+I wrote to Magdalene, to my lawyer, and to another friend who had
+known me all my life, but the ship that carried these letters was
+burnt at sea. I only heard that when I at last worked my way to
+Portsmouth as a common sailor and in that guise presented myself at my
+lawyer's chambers. Poor man! I thought he would have fainted when he
+saw me. He owned afterwards he was a believer in ghosts at that
+moment."
+
+"How long ago was that?" asked Phillis, gently.
+
+"Two months; not longer. It was then I heard of my children's death,
+of my wife's long illness and her strange state. I was ill myself, and
+not fit to battle through any more scenes. Mr. Standish took me home
+until I had rested and recovered myself a little; and then I put on
+this disguise--not that much of that is necessary, for few people
+would recognize me, I believe--and came down here and took possession
+of Mrs. Williams's lodgings."
+
+Phillis looked at him with mute questioning in her eyes. She did not
+venture to put it into words, but he understood her:
+
+"Why have I waited so long, do you ask? and why am I living here
+within sight of my own house, a spy on my own threshold and wife? My
+dear Miss Challoner, there is a bitter reason for that!
+
+"Four years ago I parted from my wife in anger. There were words said
+that day that few women could forgive. Has she forgiven them? That is
+what I am trying to find out. Will the husband who has been dead to
+her all these years be welcome to her living?" His voice dropped into
+low vehemence, and a pallor came over his face as he spoke.
+
+Phillis laid her hand on his own. She looked strangely eager:
+
+"This is why you want my help. Ah! I see now! Oh, it is all right--all
+that you can wish! It is she who is tormenting herself, who has no
+rest day or night! When the thunder came that evening--you
+remember--we sat beside the children's empty beds, and she told me
+some of her thoughts. When the lighting flashed, her nerves gave way,
+and she cried out, in her pain, 'Did he forgive?' That was her one
+thought. Her husband,--who was up in heaven with the children,--did he
+think mercifully of her, and know how she loved him? It was your name
+that was on her lips when that good woman, Miss Mewlstone, hushed her
+in her arms like a child. Oh, be comforted!" faltered Phillis, "for
+she loves you, and mourns for you as though she were the most desolate
+creature living!" But here she paused, for something that sounded like
+a sob came to her ear, and looking round, she saw the bowed figure of
+her companion shaking with uncontrollable emotion,--those hard
+tearless sobs that are only wrung from a man's strong agony.
+
+"Oh, hush!" cried the girl, tenderly. "Be comforted: there is no room
+for doubt. There! I will leave you; you will be better by and by." And
+then instinctively she turned away her face from a grief too sacred
+for a stranger to touch, and walked down to the water, where the
+children had ceased playing, and listened to the baby waves that
+lapped about her feet.
+
+And by and by he joined her; and on his pale face there was a rapt,
+serious look, as of one who has despaired and has just listened to an
+angel's tidings.
+
+"Did I not say that you, and only you, could help me? This is what I
+have wanted to know: had Magdalene forgiven me? Now I need wait no
+longer. My wife and home are mine, and I must take possession of my
+treasures."
+
+He stopped, as though overcome by the prospect of such happiness; but
+Phillis timidly interposed:
+
+"But, Mr. Cheyne, think a moment. How is it to be managed? If you are
+in too great a hurry, will not the shock be too much for her? She is
+nervous,--excitable. It would hardly be safe."
+
+"That is what troubles me," he returned, anxiously. "It is too much
+for any woman to bear; and Magdalene--she was always excitable. Tell
+me, you have such good sense; and, though you are so young, one can
+always rely on a woman; you understand her so well--I see you do--and
+she is fond of you,--how shall we act that my poor darling, who has
+undergone so much, may not be harmed by me any more?"
+
+"Wait one moment," returned Phillis, earnestly. "I must consider." And
+she set herself to revolve all manner of possibilities, and then
+rejected them one by one. "There seems no other way," she observed,
+at last, fixing her serious glance on Mr. Cheyne. "I must seek for an
+opportunity to speak to Miss Mewlstone. It must be broken carefully to
+your poor wife; I am sure of that. Miss Mewlstone will help us. She
+will tell us what to do, and how to do it. Oh, she is so kind, so
+thoughtful and tender, just as though Mrs. Cheyne were a poor wayward
+child, who must be guided and helped and shielded. I like her so much:
+we must go to her for counsel."
+
+"You must indeed, and at once!" he returned, rather peremptorily; and
+Phillis had a notion now what manner of man he had been before
+misfortunes had tamed and subdued him. His eyes flashed with
+eagerness; he grew young, alert, full of life in a moment. "Forgive me
+if I am too impetuous; but I have waited so long, and now my patience
+seems exhausted all at once during the last hour. I have been at
+fever-point ever since you have proved to me that my wife--my
+Magdalene--has been true to me. Fool that I was! why have I doubted so
+long? Miss Challoner, you will not desert me?--you will be my good
+angel a little longer? You will go to Miss Mewlstone now,--this very
+moment,--and ask her to prepare my wife?"
+
+"It is time for me to be going home: mother and Nan will think I am
+lost," returned Phillis, in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone. "Come Mr.
+Cheyne, we can talk as we go along." For he was so wan and agitated
+that she felt uneasy for his sake. She took his arm gently, and guided
+him as though he were a child; and he obeyed her like one.
+
+"Promise me that you will speak to her at once," he said, as he walked
+beside her rather feebly; and his gait became all at once like that of
+an old man. But Phillis fenced this remark very discreetly.
+
+"This afternoon or this evening, when I get the chance," she said,
+very decidedly: "if I am to help you, it must be as I think best, and
+at my own time. Do not think me unkind, for I am doing this for your
+own good: it would not help you if your wife were to be brought to the
+brink of a nervous illness. Leave it to me. Miss Mewlstone will serve
+us best, and she will know." And then she took her hand from his arm,
+and bade him drop behind a little, that she might not be seen in the
+town walking with him. "Good-bye! keep up your courage. I will help
+you all I can," she said, with a kindly smile, as he reluctantly
+obeyed her behest. She was his good angel, but he must not walk any
+longer in her shadow: angels do their good deeds invisibly, as Phillis
+hoped to do hers. He thought of this as he watched her disappearing in
+the distance.
+
+Phillis walked rapidly towards the cottage. Archie, who was letting
+himself in at his own door, saw the girl pass, carrying her head high,
+and stepping lightly as though she were treading on air. "Here comes
+Atalanta," he said to himself; but, though a smile came over his tired
+face, he made no effort to arrest her. The less he saw of any of them
+the better, he thought, just now.
+
+Nan looked up reproachfully as the truant entered the work-room, and
+Mrs. Challoner wore her gravest expression; evidently she had prepared
+a lecture for the occasion. Phillis looked at them both with sparkling
+eyes.
+
+"Listen to me, Nan and mother. Oh, I am glad Dulce is not here, she is
+so young and giddy; and she might talk--No, not a word from either of
+you, until I have had my turn." And then she began her story.
+
+Nan listened with rapt speechless attention, but Mrs. Challoner gave
+vent to little pitying moans and exclamations of dismay.
+
+"Oh, my child!" she kept saying, "to think of your being mixed up in
+such an adventure! How could you be so imprudent and daring? Mrs.
+Williams's lodger--a strange man! in that outlandish cloak, too! and
+you walked home with him that dark night! Oh, Phillis, I shall never
+be at peace about you again!" and so on.
+
+Phillis bore all this patiently, for she knew she had been incautious:
+and when her mother's excitement had calmed down a little, she
+unfolded to them her plan.
+
+"I must see Miss Mewlstone quite alone; and that unfinished French
+merino will be such a good excuse, Nan. I will take the body with me
+this afternoon, and beg her to let me try it on; the rest must come
+afterwards, but this will be the best way of getting her to myself."
+And, as Nan approved of this scheme, and Mrs. Challoner did not
+dissent, Phillis had very soon made up her parcel, and was walking
+rapidly towards the White House.
+
+As she turned in at the gates she could see a shadow on the blind in
+Mrs. Williams's little parlor, and waved her hand towards it. He was
+watching her, she knew: she longed to go back and give him a word of
+encouragement and exhortation to patience; but some one, Mr. Drummond
+perhaps, might see her, and she dare not venture.
+
+She sent her message by Jeffreys, and Miss Mewlstone soon came
+trotting into the room; but she wore a slightly-disturbed expression
+on her good-natured face.
+
+She had been reading the third volume of a very interesting novel, and
+had most unwillingly laid down her book at the young dressmaker's
+unseasonable request. Like many other stout people, Miss Mewlstone was
+more addicted to passivity than activity after her luncheon; and,
+being a creature of habit, this departure from her usual rules
+flurried her.
+
+"Dear, dear! to think of your wanting to try on that French merino
+again!" she observed; "and the other dress fitted so beautifully, and
+no trouble at all. And there has Miss Middleton being calling just
+now, and saying they are expecting her brother Hammond home from India
+in November; and it is getting towards the end of September now. I
+was finishing my book, but I could not help listening to her,--she has
+such a sweet voice. Ah, just so--just so. But aren't you going to open
+your parcel, my dear?"
+
+"Never mind the dress," returned Phillis, quickly. "Dear Miss
+Mewlstone, I was sorry to disturb you; but it could not be helped.
+Don't look at the parcel: that is only an excuse. My business is far
+more important. I want you to put on your bonnet, and come with me
+just a little way across the road. There is some one's identity that
+you must prove."
+
+Phillis was commencing her task in a somewhat lame fashion; but Miss
+Mewlstone was still too much engrossed with her novel to notice her
+visitor's singular agitation.
+
+"Ah, just so--just so," she responded; "that is exactly what the last
+few chapters have been about. The real heir has turned up, and is
+trying to prove his own identity; only he is so changed that no one
+believes him. It is capitally worked out. A very clever author, my
+dear----"
+
+But Phillis interrupted her a little eagerly:
+
+"Is that your tale, dear Miss Mewlstone? How often people say truth is
+stranger than fiction! Do you know, I have heard a story in real life
+far more wonderful than that? Some one was telling me about it just
+now. There was a man whom every one, even his own wife, believed to be
+dead; but after four years of incredible dangers and hardships--oh,
+such hardships!--he arrived safely in England, and took up his abode
+just within sight of his old house, where he could see his wife and
+find out all about her without being seen himself. He put on some sort
+of disguise, I think, so that people could not find him out."
+
+"That must be a make-up story, I think," returned Miss Mewlstone, a
+little provokingly; but her head was still full of her book. Poor
+woman! she wanted to get back to it. She looked at Phillis and the
+parcel a little plaintively. "Ah, just so,--a very pretty story, but
+improbable,--very improbable, my dear."
+
+"Nevertheless, it is true!" returned Phillis, so vehemently that Miss
+Mewlstone's little blue eyes opened more widely. "Never mind your
+book. I tell you I have business so important that nothing is of
+consequence beside it. Where is Mrs. Cheyne? She must not know we are
+going out."
+
+"Going out!" repeated Miss Mewlstone, helplessly. "My dear, I never go
+out after luncheon, as Magdalene knows."
+
+"But you are going out with me," replied Phillis, promptly. "Dear Miss
+Mewlstone, I know I am perplexing and worrying you; but what can I do?
+Think over what I have just said,--about--about that improbable story,
+as you called it; and then, you will not be so dreadfully startled.
+You must come with me now to Mrs. Williams's cottage: I want you to
+see her lodger."
+
+"Her lodger!" Miss Mewlstone was fully roused now; and, indeed,
+Phillis's pale face and suppressed eager tones were not without their
+due effect. Had the girl taken leave of her senses? Why, the ladies at
+the White House led the lives of recluses. Why should she be asked to
+call upon any stranger, but especially a gentleman,--Mrs. Williams's
+lodger? "My dear," she faltered, "you are very strange this
+afternoon.--Magdalene and I seldom call on any one, and certainly not
+on gentlemen."
+
+"You must come with me," replied Phillis, half crying with excitement.
+She found her task so difficult. Miss Mewlstone was as yielding as a
+feather bed in appearance, and yet it was impossible to move her. "He
+calls himself Mr. Dancy; but now he says that is not all his name: let
+me whisper it in your ear, if it will not startle you too much. Think
+of Mrs. Cheyne, and try and command yourself. Mrs. Williams's lodger
+says that he is Herbert Cheyne,--poor Mrs. Cheyne's husband!"
+
+
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+"BARBY, DON'T YOU RECOLLECT ME?"
+
+
+"I do not believe it!--stuff and nonsense! You are crazy, child, to
+come to me with this trumped-up story! The man is an impostor. I will
+have the police to him. For heaven's sake don't let Magdalene hear
+this nonsense!"
+
+Phillis recoiled a few steps, speechless with amazement. Miss
+Mewlstone's face was crimson; her small eyes were sparkling with angry
+excitement: all her softness and gentle inanity had vanished.
+
+"Give me a bonnet,--shawl,--anything, and I will put this matter
+straight in a moment. Where is Jeffreys? Ring the bell, please, Miss
+Challoner! I must speak to her."
+
+Phillis obeyed without a word.
+
+"Ah, just so. Jeffreys," resuming her old purring manner as the maid
+appeared, "this young lady has a friend in trouble, and wants me to go
+down to the cottage with her. Keep it from your mistress if you can,
+for she hates hearing of anything sad; say we are busy,--I shall be in
+to tea,--anything. I know you will be discreet, Jeffreys."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," returned Jeffreys, adjusting the shawl over Miss
+Mewlstone's shoulders; "but this is your garden-shawl, surely?"
+
+"Oh, it does not matter; it will do very well. Now Miss Challoner, I
+am ready." And so noiseless and rapid were her movements that Phillis
+had much to do to keep up with her.
+
+"Won't you listen to me?" she pleaded. "Dear Miss Mewlstone, it is no
+made-up story; it is all true;" but to her astonishment, Miss
+Mewlstone faced round upon her in a most indignant manner:
+
+"Be silent, child! I cannot, and will not, hear any more. How should
+you know anything about it? Have you ever seen Herbert Cheyne? You are
+the tool of some impostor. But I will guard Magdalene; she shall not
+be driven mad. No, no, poor dear! she shall not, as long as she has
+old Bathsheba to watch over her." And Phillis, in despair, very wisely
+held her peace. After all she was a stranger: had she any proof but
+Mr. Dancy's word?
+
+Just towards the last, Miss Mewlstone's pace slackened; and her hand
+shook so, as she tried to unlatch the little gate, that Phillis was
+obliged to come to her assistance. The cottage door stood open as
+usual, but there was no tall figure lurking in the background,--no
+shadow on the blind.
+
+"We had better go in there," whispered Phillis, pointing to the closed
+door of the parlor; and Miss Mewlstone, without knocking, at once
+turned the handle and went in, while Phillis followed trembling.
+
+"Well, sir," said Miss Mewlstone, sternly, "I have come to know what
+you mean by imposing your story on this child."
+
+Mr. Dancy, who was standing with his back to them, leaning for support
+against the little mantle-shelf, did not answer for a moment; and then
+he turned slowly round, and looked at her.
+
+"Oh, Barby!" he said; "don't you recollect me?" And then he held out
+his thin hands to her imploringly, and added "Dear old Barby! but you
+are not a bit changed."
+
+"Herbert--why, good heavens! Ah, just so--just so," gasped the poor
+lady, rather feebly, as she sat down, feeling her limbs were deserting
+her, and every scrap of color left her face. Indeed, she looked so
+flabby and lifeless that Phillis was alarmed and flew to her
+assistance; only Mr. Cheyne waved her aside rather impatiently.
+
+"Let her be; she is all right. She knows me, you see: so I cannot be
+so much altered. Barby," he went on, in a coaxing voice, as he knelt
+beside her and chafed her hands, "you thought I was an impostor, and
+were coming to threaten me: were you not? But now you see Miss
+Challoner was in the right. Have you not got a word for me? Won't you
+talk to me about Magdalene? We have got to prepare her, you know."
+
+Then, as he spoke his wife's name, and she remembered her sacred
+charge, the faithful creature suddenly fell on his neck in piteous
+weeping.
+
+"Oh, the bonnie face," she wept, "that has grown so old, with the
+sorrow and the gray hair! My dear, this will just kill her with joy,
+after all her years of bitter widowhood." And then she cried again,
+and stroked his face as though he were a child, and then wrung her
+hands for pity at the changes she saw. "It is the same face, and yet
+not the same," she said, by and by. "I knew the look of your eyes, my
+bonnie man, for all they were so piercing with sadness. But what have
+they done to you, Herbert?--for it might be your own ghost,--so thin;
+and yet you are brown, too; and your hair!" And she touched the gray
+locks over the temples with tender fluttering fingers.
+
+"Magdalene never liked gray hairs," he responded, with a sigh. "She is
+as beautiful as ever, I hear; but I have not caught a glimpse of her.
+Tell me, Barby,--for I have grown timorous with sorrow,--will she hate
+the sight of such a miserable scarecrow?"
+
+"My dear! hate the sight of her own husband, who is given back to her
+from the dead? Ay, I have much to hear. Why did you never write to us,
+Herbert? But there! you have all that to explain to her by and by."
+
+"Yes; and you must tell me about the children,--my little Janie," he
+returned, in a choked voice.
+
+"Ah, the dear angels! But, Herbert, you must be careful. Nobody speaks
+of them to Magdalene, unless she does herself. You are impetuous, my
+dear; and Magdalene--well, she has not been herself since you left
+her. It is pining, grief, and the dead weight of loss that has ailed
+her being childless and widowed at once. There, there! just so. We
+must be tender of her, poor dear! and things will soon come right."
+
+"You need not fear me, Barby. I have learned my lesson at last. If I
+only get my wife back, you shall see--you shall see how I will make up
+to her for all I have ever made her suffer! My poor girl! my poor
+girl!" And then he shaded his face, and was silent.
+
+Phillis had stolen out in the garden, and sat down on a little bench
+outside, where passers-by could not discern her from the road, and
+where only the sound of their voices reached her faintly. Now and
+then, chance words fell on her ear,--"Magdalene" over and over again;
+and "Janie" and "Bertie,"--always in the voice she had so admired. By
+and by she heard her own name, and rose at once, and found them
+looking for her.
+
+"Here is my good angel, Barby," observed Mr. Cheyne, as she came up
+smiling. "Not one girl in a thousand would have acted as bravely and
+simply as she has done. We are friends for life, Miss Challoner, are
+we not?" And he stretched out his hand to her, and Phillis laid her
+own in it.
+
+"I was a bit harsh with you, dearie, was I not?" returned Miss
+Mewlstone, apologetically: "but there! you were such a child that I
+thought you had been deceived. But I ought to have known better,
+craving your pardon, my dear. Now we will just go back to Magdalene;
+and you must help my stupid old head, for I am fairly crazy at the
+thought of telling her. Go back into the parlor and lie down, Herbert,
+for you are terribly exhausted. You must have patience, my man, a wee
+bit longer, for we must be cautious,--cautious, you see."
+
+"Yes, I must have patience," he responded, rather bitterly. But he
+went back into the room and watched them until they disappeared into
+the gates of his own rightful paradise.
+
+Miss Mewlstone was leaning on Phillis's arm. Her gait was still rather
+feeble, but the girl was talking energetically to her.
+
+"What a spirit she has! just like Magdalene at her age," he thought,
+"only Magdalene never possessed her even temper. My poor girl! From
+what Barby says, she has grown hard and bitter with trouble. But it
+shall be my aim in life to comfort her for all she has been through!"
+And then, as he thought of his dead children, and of the empty
+nursery, he groaned, and threw himself face downward upon the couch.
+But a few minutes afterwards he had started up again, unable to rest,
+and began to pace the room; and then, as though the narrow space
+confined him, he continued his restless walk into the garden, and then
+into the shrubberies of the White House.
+
+"My dear, I am not as young as I was. I feel as if all this were too
+much for me," sighed Miss Mewlstone, as she pressed her companion's
+arm. "One needs so much vitality to bear such scenes. I am terrified
+for Magdalene, she has so little self-control! and to have him given
+back to her from the dead! I thank God! but I am afraid, for all
+that." And a few more quiet tears stole over her cheeks.
+
+"Thinking of it only makes it worse," returned Phillis, feverishly.
+She, too, dreaded the ordeal before them; but she was young, and not
+easily daunted. All the way through the shrubbery she talked on
+breathlessly, trying to rally her own courage. It was she who entered
+the drawing-room first, for poor Miss Mewlstone had to efface the
+signs of her agitation.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne looked up, surprised to see her alone.
+
+"Jeffreys told me you and Miss Mewlstone had gone out together on a
+little business. What have you done with poor old Barby?" And, as
+Phillis answered as composedly and demurely as she could, Mrs. Cheyne
+arched her eyebrows in her old satirical way:
+
+"She is in her room, is she? Never mind answering, if you prefer your
+own counsel. Your little mysteries are no business of mine. I should
+have thought the world would have come to an end, though, before Barby
+had thrown down the third volume of a novel for anything short of a
+fire. But you and she know best." And, as Phillis flushed and looked
+confused under her scrutiny, she gave a short laugh and turned away.
+
+It was a relief when Miss Mewlstone came trotting into the room with
+her cap-strings awry.
+
+"Dear, dear! have we kept you waiting for your tea, Magdalene?" she
+exclaimed, in a flurried tone, as she bustled up to the table. "Miss
+Challoner had a little business, and she thought I might help her.
+Yes; just so! I have brought her in, for she is tired, poor thing! and
+I knew she would be welcome."
+
+"It seems to me that you are both tired. You are as hot as though you
+had walked for miles, Barby. Oh, you have your secrets too. But it is
+not for me to meddle with mysteries." And then she laughed again, and
+threw herself back on her couch, with a full understanding of the
+discomfort of the two people before her.
+
+Phillis saw directly she was in a hard, cynical mood.
+
+"You shall know our business by and by," she said, very quietly. "Dear
+Miss Mewlstone, I am so thirsty, I must ask you for another cup of
+tea." But, as Miss Mewlstone took the cup from her, the poor lady's
+hand shook so with suppressed agitation that the saucer slipped from
+her grasp, and the next moment the costly china lay in fragments at
+her feet.
+
+"Dear! dear!--how dreadfully careless of me!" fumed Miss Mewlstone.
+
+But Mrs. Cheyne made no observation. She only rang the bell, and
+ordered another cup. But, when the servant had withdrawn, she said,
+coldly,--
+
+"Your hand is not as steady as usual this evening, Barby;" and somehow
+the sharp incisive tone cut so keenly that, to Phillis's alarm, Miss
+Mewlstone became very pale, and then suddenly burst into tears.
+
+"This is too much!" observed Mrs. Cheyne, rising in serious
+displeasure. She had almost a masculine abhorrence to tears of late
+years; the very sight of them excited her strangely.
+
+"Miss Challoner may keep her mysteries to herself if she likes, but I
+insist on knowing what has upset you like this."
+
+"Oh dear! oh, dear!" sobbed the simple woman, wringing her hands
+helplessly. "This is just too much for me! Poor soul, how am I to tell
+her?" And then she looked at Phillis in affright at her own words,
+which revealed so much and so little.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne turned exceedingly pale, and a shadow passed over her
+face.
+
+"'Poor soul!' does she mean me? Is it of me you are speaking, Barby?
+Is there something for me to know, that you dread to tell me? Poor
+soul, indeed!" And then her features contracted and grew pinched. "But
+you need not be afraid. Is it not the Psalmist who says, 'All thy
+waves and thy billows have gone over me'? Drowned people have nothing
+to fear: there is no fresh trouble for them." And her eyes took an
+awful stony look that terrified Phillis.
+
+"Oh, it is no fresh trouble!" stammered the girl. "People are not
+tormented like that: they have not to suffer more than they can
+bear."
+
+But Mrs. Cheyne turned upon her fiercely:
+
+"You are wrong, altogether wrong. I could not bear it, and it drove me
+mad,--at least as nearly mad as a sane woman could be. I felt my
+reason shaken; my brain was all aflame, and I cried out to heaven for
+mercy; and a blank answered me. Barby, if there be fresh trouble, tell
+me instantly, and at once. What do I care? What is left to me, but a
+body that will not die, and a brain that will not cease to think? If I
+could only stop the thoughts! if I could only go down into silence and
+nothingness! but then I should not find Herbert and the children.
+Where are they? I forget!" She stopped, pressed her hands to her brow
+with a strange bewildered expression; but Miss Mewlstone crept up to
+her, and touched her timidly.
+
+"My bonnie Magdalene!" she exclaimed; "don't let the ill thoughts
+come; drive them away, my poor dear. Look at me. Did old Barby ever
+deceive you? There is no fresh trouble, my pretty. In his own good
+time the All-Merciful has had mercy!"
+
+Mrs. Cheyne's hand dropped down to her sides, but her brilliant eyes
+showed no comprehension of her words.
+
+"Why did you frighten me like that?" she repeated, rocking herself to
+and fro; and her voice had a high, strained tone in it. "There is no
+trouble, but your face is pale, and there are tears in your eyes; and
+look how your hand shakes! Miss Challoner--Phillis, what does she
+mean? Barby, you are a foolish old woman; your wits are gone."
+
+"If they are gone, it is with joy!" she sobbed. "Yes, my precious one!
+for sheer joy!" but then she broke down utterly. It was Phillis who
+came to the rescue.
+
+"Dear Mrs. Cheyne, I think I could tell you best," she began, in her
+sweet sensible voice, which somehow stilled Mrs. Cheyne's frightful
+agitation. "There has been some news,--a letter that has been lost,
+which ought to have arrived months ago. We have heard about it this
+afternoon." She stopped, for there seemed to be a faint sound of
+footsteps in the hall below. Could he have followed them? What would
+be the result of such imprudence? But, as she faltered and hesitated,
+Mrs. Cheyne gripped her arm with an iron force:
+
+"A letter from Herbert! Did he write to me? oh, my darling! did he
+write to me before he died? Only one word--one word of forgiveness,
+and I will say heaven indeed is merciful! Give it to me, Barby! Why do
+you keep me waiting? Oh, this is blessed, blessed news!" But Miss
+Mewlstone only clasped her gently in her arms.
+
+"One moment, my dearie! There is more than that. It is not a message
+from heaven. There is still one living on earth that loves you! Try
+and follow my meaning," for the perplexed stare had returned again.
+"Say to yourself, 'Perhaps, after all, Herbert is not dead. Nobody saw
+him die. He may be alive; he may have written to me----" She stopped,
+for Mrs. Cheyne had suddenly flung up her arms over her head with a
+hoarse cry, that rang through the house:
+
+"Herbert! Herbert! Herbert!"
+
+"I am here,--Magdalene! Magdalene!" A tall figure that had crept
+unperceived through the open hall door, and had lurked unseen in the
+shadow of the portiere, suddenly dashed into the room, and took his
+wife's rigid form into his arms. "Magdalene!--love--wife! It is
+Herbert! Look up, my darling!--I am here! I am holding you!" But there
+was no response. Magdalene's face was like the face of the dead.
+
+They took her from him almost by force, for he refused to give her up.
+Over and over again they prayed him to leave her to their care, but he
+seemed like a deaf man that did not hear.
+
+"She is dead! I have killed her; but there is no reason why I should
+give her up," he had said, with terrible calm in his voice.
+
+"She is not dead!" returned Miss Mewlstone, almost angrily. "She has
+been like this before; but Jeffreys and I know what to do. Ay, you
+were always wilful, Herbert; but when it comes to killing your own
+wife----" And after this he consented to lay her down on her couch.
+
+He watched them with wistful eyes as they tried the usual remedies;
+but it was long before even the flicker of an eyelid spoke to them of
+life. At the first sign of returning animation Herbert crept just
+behind his wife's pillow, where he could see the first unclosing of
+the drooping lids. When Magdalene opened her eyes at last, they fell
+full on her husband's face.
+
+Phillis, who was beside her, marvelled at the strange beauty of that
+rapt look, as she lay and gazed at him.
+
+"Herbert's face!" they heard her whisper, in an awe-struck voice.
+"Then I have died at last, and am in heaven. Oh, how merciful! but I
+have not deserved it,--a sinner such as I."
+
+"Magdalene, my darling, you are in our own home! It is I who was lost,
+and have come back to you. Look at me. It is only the children that
+are in heaven. You and I are spared to each other on earth." But for a
+long time her scattered faculties failed to grasp the truth.
+
+Phillis went home at last, and left them. There was nothing she could
+do, and she was utterly spent; but Miss Mewlstone kept watch beside
+her charge until late into the night.
+
+Little by little the truth dawned slowly on the numbed brain; slowly
+and by degrees the meaning of her husband's tears and kisses sank into
+the clouded mind. Now and again she wandered, but Herbert's voice
+always recalled her.
+
+"Then I am not dead?" she asked him, again and again. "They do not cry
+in heaven, and Barby was crying just now. Barby, am I dreaming! Who is
+this beside me? is it Herbert's ghost? only his hands are warm, and
+mine are so terribly cold. Why you are crying too, love; but I am to
+tired to understand." And then she crept wearily closer and closer
+into his arms, like a tired-out child who has reached home.
+
+And when Herbert stooped over her gently, he saw that the long lashes
+lay on her cheek. Magdalene had fallen asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+MOTES IN THE SUNSHINE.
+
+
+That sleep was, humanly speaking, Magdalene's salvation.
+
+At the greatest crisis of her life, when reason hung in the
+balance,--when the sudden influx of joy might have paralyzed the
+overwrought heart and brain,--at that moment physical exhaustion saved
+her by that merciful, overpowering sleep.
+
+When she woke, it was to the resurrection of her life and love. Months
+afterwards she spoke of that waking to Phillis, when she lay in her
+bed weak as a new born babe, and the early morning light streamed full
+on the face of her slumbering husband.
+
+They were alone; for Miss Mewlstone had just crept softly from the
+room. Her movement had roused Magdalene. Herbert, who was utterly worn
+out by his long watching, had just dropped asleep, with his head
+resting against the wood-work. He was still sitting in the arm-chair
+beside her, and only the thin profile was visible.
+
+The previous night had been passed by Magdalene in a semi-conscious
+state: delirious imaginations had blended with realities. There were
+flashes and intervals of comparative consciousness, when the truth
+rushed into her mind; but she had been too weak to retain it long.
+That she was dreaming or dead was her fixed idea: that this was her
+husband's greeting to her in paradise seemed to be her one thought.
+"Strange that the children do not kiss me too," they heard her say
+once.
+
+But now, as she opened her eyes, there was no blue misty haze through
+which she ever feebly sought to pierce. She was lying in her own room,
+where she had passed so many despairing days and nights. The window
+was open; the sweet crisp morning air fanned her temples; the birds
+were singing in the garden below; and there beside her was the face so
+like, yet so unlike, the face from which she had parted four years
+ago.
+
+For a little while she lay and watched it in a sort of trance; and
+then in the stillness full realization came to her, and she knew that
+she was not mad or dreaming. This was no imagination: it was reality.
+
+With incredible effort, for she felt strangely weak, she raised
+herself on her elbow to study that dear face more closely, for the
+change in it baffled her. Could this be her Herbert? How bronzed and
+thin he had grown! Those lines that furrowed his forehead, those
+hollows in the temples and under the eyes, were new to her. And, oh,
+the pity of those gray hairs in the place of the brown wavy locks she
+remembered! But it was when she laid her lips against the scarred
+wrist that Herbert woke, and met the full look of recognition in his
+wife's eyes, for which he had waited so long.
+
+Now he could fall upon his knees beside her, and crave that
+forgiveness for words and acts that had seared his conscience all
+these years like red-hot iron. But at the first word she stopped him,
+and drew his head to her breast:
+
+"Oh, Herbert, hush! What! ask forgiveness of me, when I have sinned
+against you doubly,--trebly,--when I was no true wife, as you know?
+Oh, do not let us ask it of each other, but of God, whom we have so
+deeply offended! He has punished us; but He has been merciful too. He
+has taken our children because we did not deserve them. Oh, Herbert!
+what will you do without them?--for you loved Janie so!" And then for
+a little while the childless parents could only hold each other's
+hands and weep, for to Herbert Cheyne the grief was new, and at the
+sight of her husband's sorrow Magdalene's old wounds seemed to open
+and bleed afresh; only now--now she did not weep alone.
+
+When Miss Mewlstone entered the room, shortly afterwards, she found
+Magdalene lying spent and weary, holding her husband's hand.
+
+Joy had indeed returned to the White House, but for a long time it was
+joy that was strangely tempered with sorrow. Upstairs no sound greeted
+Herbert from the empty nurseries; there were no little feet pattering
+to meet the returned wanderer, no little voices to cry a joyous
+"Father!" And for years the desolate mother had borne this sorrow
+alone.
+
+As the days passed on, Magdalene regained her strength slowly, but
+neither wife nor husband could hide from each other the fact that
+their health was broken by all they had gone through. Herbert's
+constitution was sadly impaired for the remainder of his life: he knew
+well that he must carry with him the consequences of those years of
+suffering. Often he had to endure intense neuralgic agony in his limbs
+and head; an unhealed wound for a long time troubled him sorely.
+Magdalene strove hard to regain strength, that she might devote
+herself to nurse him, but, though her constitution was superb, she had
+much to bear from her disordered nerves. At times the old irritability
+was hard to vanquish; there were still dark moods of restlessness when
+her companionship was trying; but it was now that Herbert proved the
+nobleness and reality of his repentance.
+
+For he was ever gentle with her, however much she might try him. Some
+talk he had had with her doctor had convinced him that she was not to
+blame for these morbid moods; that the nerves had become disorganized
+by those years of solitary misery. "We must bear all our troubles
+together," as he often told her; and so he bore this, as he did the
+trial of his children's loss, with grave fortitude, and a patience
+that surprised all who knew him.
+
+And he was not without his reward, for, the dark fit over, Magdalene's
+smile would greet him like sunshine after a storm, and she would thank
+him with tears and caresses for his forbearance.
+
+"I can't think what makes me still so horrid, when I am so happy," she
+said once to him, when the first year of their reunion had passed. "I
+do my best to fight against these moods, but they seem stronger than
+myself and overcome me. Do not be so good to me next time, Herbert;
+scold me and be angry with me, as you used in the old days."
+
+"I cannot," he answered, smiling. "I never loved you in the old days
+as I do now. I would not change my wife, in spite of all the trouble
+she gives me, for any other woman upon earth. You believe this, love,
+do you not?" looking at her beautiful face anxiously, for it had
+clouded a little at his last words.
+
+"Yes, but I do not like to trouble you: it is that that frets me. I
+wanted to be a comfort to you, and never to give you a moment's
+uneasiness; but I cannot help myself, somehow. I love you, I don't
+believe you know yet how I love you, Herbert; but it seems as if I
+must grieve you sometimes."
+
+"Never mind; I will hear your trouble and my own too," he answered,
+cheerily; and in this way he always comforted her. But to Magdalene
+her own self ever remained a mystery; the forces of her own nature
+were too strong for her, and yet she was not a weak woman. She had
+expected that in her case love and happiness would have worked a
+miracle, as though miracles were ever effected by mere human
+agencies,--that she would rise like a Phoenix from the ashes of her
+past, reborn, rejuvenated, with an inexhaustible fund of moral
+strength.
+
+Now she had Herbert, all would go smoothly; she would no longer mourn
+for her little ones. Since her husband was there to comfort her, with
+his constant presence to sustain her, all must be well; never again
+would she be nervous, irritable, or sarcastic. Poor Magdalene! she was
+creating heaven for herself upon earth; she was borrowing angels'
+plumes before the time; she had forgotten the conditions of humanity,
+"the body of the flesh," which weighed down greater souls than hers.
+
+There are Gethsemanes of the spirit to the weary ones of earth, hours
+of conflict that must be lived through and endured. Nature that
+groaneth and travaileth cannot find its abiding place of rest here. To
+the end of time it seems to be written in enduring characters that no
+human lot shall be free from suffering: sooner or later, more or
+less,--that is all! Magdalene had still to learn this lesson
+painfully: that she was slow in learning it, proved the strength and
+obduracy of her will. True, she was rarely sarcastic,--never in her
+husband's presence, for a word or a look from him checked her, and she
+grew humble and meek at once. It was her unruly nerves that baffled
+her; she was shocked to find that irritable words still rose to her
+lips; that the spirit of restlessness was not quelled forever; that
+thunder still affrighted her; and that now and then her mind seemed
+clouded with fancied gloom.
+
+She once spoke of this to Miss Middleton, with tears in her eyes.
+
+"It is so strange," she said. "Herbert is different, but I am still so
+unchanged."
+
+"The conditions of your health are unchanged, you mean," answered
+Elizabeth, with that quiet sympathy that always rested people. "This
+is the mistake that folk make: they do not distinguish between an
+unhealthy mind and a diseased soul: the one is due to physical
+disorganization, the other to moral causes. In your case, dear Mrs.
+Cheyne, one may safely lay the blame on the first cause."
+
+"Oh, do you think so?" she asked, earnestly. "I dare not cheat my
+conscience in that way: it is my bad temper, my undisciplined nature,
+that ought to bear the blame."
+
+"No; believe me," answered Elizabeth, for they had grown great friends
+of late, "I have watched you narrowly, and I know how you try to
+conquer this irritability; there is no black spot of anger in your
+heart, whatever words come to your lips. You are like a fretful child
+sometimes, I grant you that, who is ailing and unconscious of its
+ailment. When you would be calm, you are strangely disturbed; you
+speak sharply, hoping to relieve something that oppresses you."
+
+"Oh, yes!" sighed Magdalene; "and yet Herbert never speaks crossly to
+me."
+
+"He never will, for he knows what you suffer. Well, dear friend, what
+of this? This is a cross that you must carry perhaps all your life.
+You are not the only one who has to bear the torment of disordered
+nerves: it must be borne with resignation, as we bear other troubles.
+Once you felt you could not love God; you ceased to pray to Him; now
+you love Him a little. Go on loving; thank him for your husband's
+patience, and pray that you may have patience with yourself. One is
+weary of always living with one's self, I know that well," finished
+Elizabeth, with a charming smile.
+
+Mr. Drummond would have verified Miss Middleton's opinion that
+Magdalene was not so unchanged as she believed herself to be.
+
+At his first interview with her after Herbert Cheyne's return, he
+could almost have sworn that she was a different woman.
+
+Phillis, who spent all her spare time at the White House,--for they
+both made much of Herbert's "good angel," as he still called her
+jestingly,--was sitting alone with Mrs. Cheyne when Archie was
+announced.
+
+His old enemy greeted him with a frank smile.
+
+"This is kind of you, Mr. Drummond," she said, quite warmly. "How I
+wish my husband were not out, that I could introduce him to you! I
+have told him how good you have tried to be to me, but that I was
+ungrateful and repulsed you."
+
+Archie was shaking hands with Phillis, who seemed a little disturbed
+at his entrance. He turned around and regarded the beautiful woman
+with astonishment. Was this really Mrs. Cheyne? Where was the hard,
+proud droop of the lip, the glance of mingled coldness and _hauteur_,
+the polished sarcasm of voice and manner? Her face looked clear and
+open as a child's; her eyes were brilliant with happiness.
+
+Magdalene was in one of her brightest moods when she was most truly
+herself.
+
+"I have met him just now. He stopped and introduced himself. We had
+quite a long talk outside of Mrs. Williams's cottage. I called upon
+him there, you know, but he had good reasons for refusing my visits.
+Mrs. Cheyne, you must allow me to congratulate you most earnestly. You
+will own now that Providence has been good to you."
+
+"I will own that and everything," returned Magdalene, joyously. "I
+will own, if you like, that I treated you shamefully, and took a
+pleasure in tormenting you; and you were so patient,--oh, so patient,
+Mr. Drummond! I could have called you back sometimes and apologized,
+but I would not. In my bitter moments I felt it was such a relief to
+mock at people."
+
+"Never mind all that. Let bygones be bygones. I wish I could have
+served you better." And then, as he changed the subject, and spoke
+feelingly about the miracle of her husband's restoration, Mrs. Cheyne
+looked at him rather wistfully.
+
+"Oh, how good you are!" she said, softly. "Do you know, the world
+seems full of good people to me now; and yet once it appeared too bad
+a place for any one to live in. We create our own atmosphere,--at
+least so Herbert tells me. But you are looking thin, Mr.
+Drummond,--thin and pale. You must be working too hard."
+
+"Oh, as to that, hard work never hurts any one," he replied,
+carelessly; but there was something forced in his tone.
+
+Phillis, who had been sitting apart quite silently, raised her eyes
+involuntarily from her work. Was it her fancy, or had some undefinable
+change passed over him? They had seen him so little of late. Since all
+this had happened at the White House he had called once or twice; and
+once Nan had been there, and he had spoken to her much as usual. No
+one would have detected any difference in his manner, except that he
+was a little grave and preoccupied. Nan had not noticed anything; but
+then she was singularly blind in such matters. Had she not vaguely
+hinted that his visits were on Phillis's account?--that mere hint
+conveying exquisite pain to Phillis.
+
+Now, as she stole a glance at him, the conviction was strong within
+her that the arrow had gone deep. He certainly looked a little thin
+and care-worn, and something of a young man's vigor and hopefulness
+seemed temporarily impaired. But, as it happened, that girlish
+scrutiny was not unperceived by Archie. In a moment he was on the
+alert. His eyes challenged hers boldly, and it was Phillis who flushed
+and looked conscious.
+
+It was as though he said to her, "Ah! you think you know all about it.
+But you need not trouble yourself to be sorry for me; you do not know
+what a man's strength can do. And I am determined to bear this by
+myself, and to myself; for in silence there is power."
+
+It certainly seemed as though a new strength had come to Archie. He
+had been a man who was prone to speak much of his feelings. Irritable
+and sensitive, he had demanded much sympathy from his womankind. His
+was a nature that craved support in his work; but now, not even to
+Grace, could he speak of this trouble that had befallen him.
+
+Was it a trouble, after all, this vague shadow that lay about his
+path? No one but he himself knew the sweetness and graciousness of the
+dream that had come to him. It had only been a dream, after all; and
+now he was awake. The vision he had conjured up to himself had faded
+into unreality. She was not his second self: never by look or word had
+he wooed her; she was only the woman he could have loved. This was how
+he put it; and now he would bury this faint hope that was
+still-born,--that had never had breathed into it the breath of life.
+And if for a little while his future should be cloudy and bereft of
+its sunshine, was he the only one to whom "some days must be dark and
+dreary"?
+
+Phillis's unspoken sympathy drooped under this stern repression; and
+yet in her heart she reverenced him all the more for this moral
+strength,--for there is nothing a true woman abhors more than weakness
+in a man. After this silent rebuff, Archie took himself well in hand,
+and began to speak of other things: he told Mrs. Cheyne, being certain
+now of her interest, of his sister's intended marriage, and how he and
+Mattie were going down to the wedding.
+
+"He is a very good fellow, this intended brother-in-law of mine,--a
+sort of rough diamond; but hardly good enough for Isabel," he said.
+"Oh, yes, he is very rich. My poor little sister will have her head
+turned by all her magnificence; for his parents are so generous: they
+quite load her with gifts." And he smiled to himself at the notion of
+the little sister, just fresh from her narrow school-room life,
+rejoicing over her trousseau and her handsome house, and driving away
+from the church in her own carriage. No wonder his father and mother
+were pleased. As for the bridegroom-elect, Archie spoke of him with
+half-contemptuous amusement: "Oh, he was a good fellow,--no one wished
+to deny that;" but there was a want of culture and polish that grated
+upon the susceptibilities of the Oxford fellow.
+
+Phillis listened with undivided interest--especially when he mentioned
+Grace.
+
+"Mattie and I are in hopes that we shall bring her back with us; but,
+at all events, my mother has promised to spare her at Christmas." This
+time he addressed himself to Phillis.
+
+"Oh, that will be nice for you!" she returned a little eagerly. "You
+have told us so much about her that I quite long to know her."
+
+"I should say you would suit each other perfectly," he replied, as he
+rose to take his leave. "Sometimes you remind me of her, Miss
+Challoner; and yet you are not really alike. Good-bye, if I do not see
+you again before we go to Leeds." And Phillis gave him her hand, and a
+cordial smile.
+
+But when he had gone out of the room, his hostess accompanying
+him--for she had a word for his private ear,--Phillis sat down, and
+thought over those last words with a strange feeling of pleasure:
+"Sometimes you remind me of her, Miss Challoner." Was it possible that
+he could trace any resemblance between her and this dearly-beloved
+sister, this Grace, whom he seemed to regard as absolute perfection?
+
+"Oh, I hope she will come! I am sure we shall be such friends," she
+said to herself: and from this time Phillis looked anxiously for Grace
+Drummond's arrival.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+"A MAN HAS A RIGHT TO HIS OWN THOUGHTS."
+
+
+There were great rejoicings in the house in Lowder Street on the
+occasion of Isabel Drummond's marriage.
+
+There is always something pathetic in the first wedding in a
+family,--the first severing of the family circle,--the first break,
+the first ingathering of new interest. But when there are small means,
+and seven portionless daughters, very few of whom can be said to be
+gifted with good looks, a wealthy son-in-law must indeed be regarded
+as a direct blessing from Providence.
+
+That Mr. Drummond did so regard it, was evident from the jovial good
+humor that had replaced his usual moody and irritable manner; while
+his wife's beaming face, softened by maternal tenderness for the
+child who would no longer share the daily life with them, was a
+surprising spectacle to those acquainted with Mrs. Drummond's ordinary
+reserve and somewhat severe bearing. But it is not too much to say
+that on this occasion Mrs. Drummond was a happy woman.
+
+The tide of fortune, long so adverse to their interests, seemed
+turning in their favor at last. Archie had done great things for
+himself, and the mother's eyes rested on him proudly as he performed
+the marriage ceremony for his young sister, the gravity of his
+priestly office setting him apart, as it were, for her reverence as
+well as love. That Isabel had done great things for herself also could
+not be denied. But there were other causes for content in the mother's
+heart.
+
+Both the boys were doing well. Clyde had been articled to a lawyer, an
+old friend of Mr. Drummond's, and had won golden opinions from his
+chief, who pronounced him an intelligent, likely lad, and as sharp as
+a needle. Fred had lately obtained a clerkship in an old-established
+house in Leeds, and was also doing well, and his salary was a great
+boon to the straitened household. Grace, too, was doing her duty
+vigorously, and no longer vexed her mother's soul by her drooping
+looks of uncomplaining discontent,--that silent protest of many, that
+is so irritating to the home-rule. True, it might be only the
+quiescence of despair, but at least she veiled it decently under a
+show of Spartan cheerfulness. The fox of bitterness might gnaw, but
+she drew the mantle of her pride closer round her. She might suffer
+and pine, like a caged lark in her narrow cage, but at least no one,
+not even Archie, and least of all her mother, should guess the extent
+of her sufferings. So there was peace in Lowder Street. A truce had
+silently proclaimed itself between the two strong wills of the
+household; and, touched by a submission that somehow appealed to her
+generosity, Mrs. Drummond was secretly revolving schemes for her
+daughter's future happiness.
+
+"Mothers are mothers," as Nan had once sweetly said, and Mrs. Drummond
+was no exception to the rule. She could be hard to her own flesh and
+blood; she could exact obedience that was difficult to yield, and
+sacrifices that cost tears in plenty; but she was a just woman, and,
+when the right time came, she knew how to reward such obedience.
+
+But there was still another drop that filled the maternal cup of
+content almost to overflowing, and of this she spoke to Grace, as they
+were together in the mother's room, folding up the bridal finery. The
+little bride had just driven off, all tears and smiles. Archie and the
+boys had started off for a long walk. Mattie was with her sisters in
+the small ugly enclosure they called a garden; and Grace and her
+mother had gone up to shake out the satin dress and lay it between
+tissue-paper.
+
+"I hope she will be happy, poor little dear!" observed Grace, touching
+tenderly the Brussels-lace veil; for Isabel had been her first pupil
+and charge. "I do think and believe Ellis is really very fond of
+her."
+
+"Without doubt he is. His manners were all your father and I could
+wish. What a magnificent present, and how thoughtful, his bringing
+those diamond ear-drops just the last moment! Isabel has such pretty
+little ears. He is as proud of her as he can be. And really she looked
+quite lovely. Take care how you fold that veil, Grace. It is a perfect
+beauty."
+
+"Yes, mother," returned Grace, meekly.
+
+She was ready to drop with fatigue, for she had been up since six, and
+had dressed all her sisters one after another in their pretty
+bridesmaids' dresses, Mattie's skill as a lady's-maid being distrusted
+even by Dottie. But Mrs. Drummond was not satisfied, and took the lace
+out of her hand.
+
+"And, Grace, did you ever see any one so improved as Mattie? Her visit
+to Hadleigh is doing wonders for her. Last evening I could hardly help
+looking at her. She holds herself so much better, and her dresses are
+so pretty and well made. I never knew before that her figure was so
+nice."
+
+"Yes, indeed; she is wonderfully improved," returned Grace.
+
+But she said the words mechanically. Her mother's speech had touched a
+sore place in her memory. She knew who had transformed Mattie's
+dowdiness into comeliness and neatness. She might be an ordinary
+little woman in the world's opinion, but in the eyes of her family she
+was quite another Mattie. Those tasteful dresses had been made by
+those Challoners of whom Mattie spoke so much and Archie so little.
+
+Mrs. Drummond, who had not noticed her daughter's sudden abstraction,
+went on in the same satisfied tone:
+
+"She is not pretty, of course,--no one could ever call Mattie that at
+the best of times,--but now she has left off making a fright of
+herself, and hunching her shoulders with every word, she is quite
+passable-looking. I am glad you talked her out of being a bridesmaid.
+She would have looked absurd among the girls. But that green surah
+just suited her. It was good of Archie to buy her such a pretty dress;
+and yours that came from Hadleigh was even prettier, and wonderfully
+well made, considering they had only a pattern gown."
+
+"Yes; it fitted admirably;" but Grace spoke without enthusiasm.
+
+Archie, who knew her tastes, had chosen a soft, creamy stuff which he
+informed Mattie must be trimmed with no end of lace. Phillis had
+received and executed the order with such skill and discernment that a
+most ravishing costume had been produced. But Grace, who had her own
+ideas on the subject of those "Challoner girls," had received the gift
+somewhat coldly, and had even seemed displeased when her father
+pinched her ear and told her that Archie's gown had transformed her
+into a princess fit for a fairy-tale. "And there is always a prince
+in that, my dear,--eh, Gracie?" continued the lucky father, who could
+afford to laugh when one of the seven daughters had got a husband. But
+Grace would have nothing to do with the jest. She even got up a little
+frown, like her mother's on similar occasions.
+
+"Archie is so generous, dear old fellow!" continued Mrs. Drummond,
+breaking out afresh after a minute's interval, as she skilfully
+manipulated the veil. "That is what I always say. There never was such
+a son or brother. Do you think he is overworking, Grace, or that
+Mattie really looks after him well? But he strikes me as a little
+thin,--and--yes--perhaps a little grave."
+
+Grace's lips closed with an expression of pain. But her mother was
+looking at her and she must answer.
+
+"Well, if you ask me, mother," she returned, a little huskily, "I do
+not think Archie looks very well, or in his usual spirits; but I am
+sure Mattie takes good care of him," she continued, with careful
+veracity.
+
+"Humph! I am sorry to find you endorsing my opinion," replied Mrs.
+Drummond, thoughtfully. "I hoped you would say it was my fancy. He has
+not said anything to you that makes you uneasy?" with a touch of her
+old sharpness, remembering that Grace, and not she, was Archie's
+confidante; but Grace replied so quickly and decidedly, "Oh, no,
+mother; we have not exchanged a word together since he and Mattie
+arrived," that her maternal jealousy was allayed.
+
+But the next night, when she was alone with him for a few minutes, she
+was struck afresh by the gravity of his look as he sat by the window,
+pretending to read, but for the last half-hour he had not turned his
+page.
+
+"A penny for your thoughts, my son!" she said, so archly and abruptly
+that Archie started, and his brow grew crimson at finding himself
+watched.
+
+"Oh, they were nothing particular," he stammered; and then he said
+something about the fineness of the evening, and the possibility of
+his father coming in in time for a long walk.
+
+But Mrs. Drummond was not to be put off so easily. She left her seat,
+where she had been sewing as usual, and came and stood beside him a
+moment. He would have jumped up and given her his own chair, but she
+pressed his shoulder gently, as though to forbid the movement.
+
+"I like to stand, Archie. Yes, it is a lovely evening; but I think you
+ought to ask Grace, and not your father, to accompany you. Grace was
+always your companion, you know, and you must not drop old habits too
+suddenly." Then Archie saw that his avoidance of Grace had been
+marked.
+
+"Very well, I will ask her," he returned; but he showed none of his
+old alacrity and spirit in claiming his favorite.
+
+Mrs. Drummond noticed this; and the shade of anxiety on her face grew
+deeper.
+
+"Archie, you are not quite your old self with Grace; and I am sure she
+feels it. What has come between you, my dear?"
+
+"Why, nothing, mother;" and here he attempted a laugh. "Grace and I
+never quarrel, as you know."
+
+"I was not speaking of quarrelling," she returned, in a graver voice;
+"but you do not seek her out as you used. Before, when you arrived,
+you always disappointed me by shutting yourself up in the school-room,
+where no one could get at you; and now Grace tells me she has not had
+a word with you these four days."
+
+"Has Grace complained of me, then?"
+
+"You know Grace never complains of you. It was not said in any
+fault-finding way. We agreed you were not quite yourself, or in your
+usual spirits; and I asked her the reason. Tell me, my son, is there
+anything troubling you?" Archie sat silent. Mrs. Drummond was so
+rarely demonstrative to her children that even this well-beloved son
+had never heard before such chords of tenderness in his mother's
+voice; and, looking up, he saw that her keen gray eyes were softened
+and moist with tears. "You are not quite yourself, Archie,--not quite
+happy?" she went on.
+
+Then he took counsel with himself; and after a moment he answered
+her:
+
+"No, mother; you are right. I am not--not quite myself nor quite
+happy; but I mean to be both presently." And then he looked up in her
+face pleadingly, with an expression of entreaty that went to her
+heart, and continued: "But my own mother will not pain me by
+unnecessary questions that I could not answer." And then she knew that
+his will was that she should be silent.
+
+"Very well," she returned, with a sigh. "But you will tell me one
+thing, will you not, my dear! Is it--is it quite hopeless?" her
+mother's instinct, like that of the Eastern Caliph, immediately
+suggesting a woman in the case.
+
+"Quite--quite hopeless!--as dead as this!" bringing down his hand on a
+large defunct moth. "Talking will not bring to life, or help a man, to
+carry a real burden."
+
+Then, as she kissed him, she knew that his pain had been very great,
+but that he meant to bear it with all the strength he could bring.
+
+Grace went up to prepare for her walk that evening with no very
+pleasurable anticipations. Her mother had given her Archie's message
+in due form, as she sat somewhat sadly by the school-room window,
+mending a frock Dottie had just torn.
+
+"Archie wants you to go out with him, Grace," Mrs. Drummond said, as
+she came in, in her usual active bustling way. "The grass never grew
+under her feet," as she was often pleased to observe. "Loitering and
+lagging make young bones grow prematurely old," she would say, coining
+a new proverb for the benefit of lazy Susie. "Never measure your
+footsteps when you are about other people's business," she would say
+to Laura, who hated to be hunted up from her employment for any
+errand. "He thinks of going over to Blackthorn Farm, as it is so fine;
+and the walk will do you good," continued Mrs. Drummond, with a keen
+look at her daughter's pale face. "Give me Dottie's frock: that little
+monkey is always getting into mischief." But Grace yielded her task
+reluctantly.
+
+"Are you sure he wishes me to go, mother?"
+
+"Quite sure," was the brief answer; but she added no more.
+
+Silence was ever golden to this busy, hard-working mother. She was
+generally sparing of words. Grace, who saw that her mother was bent on
+her going, made no further demur; but, as she put on her
+walking-things, she told herself that Archie was only making a virtue
+of necessity. He was so little eager for her society that he had not
+sought her himself, but had sent her a message. Ever since his return,
+no light-springing footsteps had been heard on the uncarpeted stairs
+leading to the school-room. He had forsaken their old haunt, where
+they had once talked so happily, sitting hand in hand on the old
+window-seat.
+
+Grace felt herself grievously wounded. For months a barrier had been
+between her and Archie. He had written seldom; and his letters, when
+they came, told her nothing. In manner he was kindness itself. That
+there was no change in his affection was evident; but the key to his
+confidence was mislaid. He had withdrawn himself into some inner
+citadel, where he seemed all at once inaccessible, and her sisterly
+soul was vexed within her.
+
+He met her at the door with his usual smile of welcome.
+
+"That is right, Grace; you have not kept me long waiting," he said,
+pleasantly, as she came towards him; and then, as they walked down
+Lowder Street, he commenced talking at once. He had so much to tell
+her, he said; and here Grace's pulses began to throb expectantly; but
+the eager light died out of her face when he went on to detail a long
+conversation he had had with his mother the previous night. Was that
+all? she thought. Was the longed-for confidence still to be withheld?
+
+Archie did not seem to notice her silence: he rattled on volubly.
+
+"I think we were hard on the mother, Gracie, you and I," he said.
+"After all, I believe she was right in not giving us our own way in
+the spring."
+
+"I am glad you think so," replied Grace, coldly. Archie winced at her
+tone, but recovered himself, and went on gayly:
+
+"It does one good sometimes to have one's wishes crossed; and, after
+all, it was only fair that poor Mattie, being the eldest, should have
+her turn. She does her best, poor little soul! and, though I find her
+terribly trying sometimes, I can hold out pretty patiently until
+Christmas; and then mother herself suggested that you should take her
+place at the vicarage."
+
+"I! oh, no, Archie!" And here the color flushed over Gracie's face,
+and her eyes filled with tears. The news was so unexpected,--so
+overwhelming. Another time the sweetness of it would have filled her
+with rapture. But now! "Oh, no, no!" she cried, in so vehement a tone
+that her brother turned in surprise, and something of her meaning came
+home to him.
+
+"Wait a moment," he said, deprecatingly. "I have not finished yet what
+I want to say. Mother said Mattie was greatly improved by her visit,
+and that she was infinitely obliged to me for yielding to her wish.
+She told me plainly that it was impossible to have spared you
+before,--that you were her right hand with the girls, and that even
+now your loss would be great."
+
+"I do not mean to leave mother," returned Grace, in a choked voice.
+
+"Not if I want you and ask you to come?" he replied, with reproachful
+tenderness, "Why, Grace, what has become of our old compact?"
+
+"You do not need me now," she faltered, hardly able to speak without
+weeping.
+
+"We will talk of that by and by," was the somewhat impatient answer.
+"Just at this minute I want to tell you all the mother said on the
+subject. Facts before feelings, please," with a touch of sarcasm; but
+he pointed it with a smile. "You see, Grace, Isabel's marriage makes a
+difference. There is one girl off my father's hands. And then the boys
+are doing so well. Mother thinks that in another three months Clara
+may leave the school-room; she will be seventeen then, and, as Ellis
+has promised her a course of music-lessons, to develop her one talent,
+you may consider her off your hands."
+
+"Clara will never do me credit," returned his sister, mournfully: "she
+works steadily and takes pains, but she was never as clever as
+Isabel."
+
+"No; she is no shining light, as mother owns; but she will play
+beautifully, if she be properly trained. Well, as to the other girls,
+it appears that my father has decided to accept my offer of sending
+Susie to a first-class boarding-school; and, as he has determined to
+do the same for Laura, there is only Dottie for Mattie to manage or
+mismanage. So you see, Gracie, your school-room drudgery is over.
+Mother herself, by her own will, has opened the prison-doors."
+
+He spoke in a light jesting tone, but Grace answered, almost
+passionately,--
+
+"I tell you no, Archie! I no longer wish it so; it is too late: things
+are now quite different."
+
+"What do you mean?" he returned, with a long steady look that seemed
+to draw out her words in spite of her resolve not to speak them.
+
+"I mean that things are changed--that you no longer need me, or wish
+me to live with you."
+
+"I need you more," he returned, calmly; "perhaps I have never needed
+you so much. As for living with me, is it your desire to condemn me to
+an existence of perfect loneliness?--for after Christmas Mattie leaves
+me. You are mysterious, Grace; you are not your old self."
+
+"Oh, it is you that are not yourself!" she retorted, in a tone of
+grief. "Why have you avoided me? why do you withhold your confidence?
+why do your letters tell me nothing? and then you come and are still
+silent."
+
+"What is it that you would have me tell you?" he asked; but this time
+he did not look her in the face.
+
+"I would know this thing that has come between us and robbed me of
+your confidence. You are ill at ease; you are unhappy, Archie! You
+have never kept a trouble from me before: it was always I who shared
+your hopes and fears."
+
+"You may still share them. I am not changed, as you imagine Grace. All
+that I can tell you I will, even if you demand it in that
+'money-or-your-life' style, as you are doing now," trying to turn it
+off with a jest.
+
+"Oh, Archie!"
+
+"Well, what of Archie, now?"
+
+"That you should laugh away my words! you have never done that
+before."
+
+"Very well, I will be serious; nay, more, I will be solemn. Grace, I
+forbid you ever to mention this thing again, on pain of my bitter
+displeasure!"
+
+Then, as she looked at him, too much startled to answer, he went on:
+
+"A man has a right to his own thoughts, if he choose to keep them to
+himself and his Maker. There are some things with which even you may
+not meddle, Grace. What if my life holds a grief which I would bury
+from all eyes but my own? would you tear up the clods with unhallowed
+fingers? To no living person but my Saviour"--and here Archie looked
+up with reverent eyes--"will I speak of this thing." Then she clung to
+his arm, and tears flowed over her cheeks.
+
+"Oh, Archie! forgive me! forgive me! I never meant to hurt you like
+this; I will not say another word!"
+
+"You have not hurt me," he returned, striving after his old manner,
+"except in refusing to live with me. I am lonely enough, God knows!
+and a sister who understands me, and with whom I could have sympathy,
+would be a great boon."
+
+"Then I will come," she replied; drying her eyes. "If you want me, I
+will come, Archie."
+
+"I do want you; and I have never told you anything but the truth. But
+you must come and be happy, my dear. I want you, yourself, and not a
+grave, reticent creature who has gone about the house the last few
+days, looking at me askance, as though I had committed some deadly
+sin."
+
+Then the dimple showed itself in Grace's cheek.
+
+"Have I really been so naughty, Archie?"
+
+"Yes, you have been a very shadowy sort of Grace; but I give you full
+absolution, only don't go and do it any more." And, as she looked at
+him with her eyes full of sorrowful yearning, he went on, hastily:
+"Oh, I am all right, and least said is soonest mended. I am like the
+dog in Æsop's fable, who mistook the shadow for the substance. A poor
+sort of dog, that fellow. Well, is your poor little mind at rest,
+Grace?" And the tone in which she said "Yes" seemed to satisfy him,
+for he turned their talk into another channel.
+
+When Mrs. Drummond saw her daughter's face that evening, she knew the
+cloud had passed between the brother and sister.
+
+Grace followed her to her room that night,--a thing she had not done
+for months.
+
+"Mother, I must thank you for being so good to us," she began,
+impulsively, as soon as she had crossed the threshold.
+
+"How have I been good to you, Grace?" observed her mother, calmly, as
+she unfastened her brooch. "Of course, I have always tried to be good
+to my children, although they do not seem to think so."
+
+"Ah, but this is very special goodness: and I am more grateful than I
+can say. Are you sure you will be able to spare me, mother?"
+
+"After Christmas?--oh, yes: things will be possible then. If I
+remember rightly, I had to endure some very bitter words from you on
+this very subject. I hope you will do justice to my judgment at that
+time."
+
+"Yes, mother," with downcast eyes. "I am afraid Archie and I were very
+wilful."
+
+"You were wilful, Grace,"--for Mrs. Drummond never suffered any one to
+find fault with her son in her hearing,--"you who ought to have known
+better. And yet I do believe that, but for my determination to enforce
+the right thing, you would have left your post, and all your duties,
+because Archie wanted you."
+
+"I was wrong. I see that plainly."
+
+"Yes, you were wrong: for a long time you bore yourself towards me as
+no daughter ought to bear herself to her mother. You angered me
+sorely, Grace, because I saw you were hardening yourself against me,
+only because I insisted that no child of mine should neglect her
+duty."
+
+"Mother, surely I am humbling myself now?"
+
+"True; but how long have I waited for this confession? Night after
+night I have said to myself, 'Surely Grace will come and tell me that
+she feels herself in the wrong!' But no such words came. At last I
+ceased to hope for them; and now at this eleventh hour you can hardly
+expect me to show much joy at hearing them spoken."
+
+Then Grace's head drooped, and she was silent. She knew she deserved
+all these hard words, bitter as they were to bear; but Mrs. Drummond
+had said her say.
+
+"Well, well, better late than never; and we will say no more about it.
+Next time you will understand me better, Grace."
+
+Then, as her mother kissed her, Grace knew that her sin was condoned.
+Nevertheless, as she left the room a few minutes later, her heart was
+not quite so light in her bosom; she felt that her mother had been
+just, but hardly generous.
+
+"I thought mothers forgave more easily," she said to herself, in
+somewhat aggrieved fashion. She had no idea that her mother was
+equally disappointed.
+
+Mrs. Drummond was a hard, but not an unloving woman; and she would
+have liked more demonstration from her daughters. If Grace, for
+example, instead of all these words, had thrown herself into her arms
+and owned herself in the wrong, with a child-like pleading for
+forgiveness, Mrs. Drummond would have felt herself satisfied, and
+would have pressed her to her bosom with a loving word or two that
+Grace would have remembered when her mother was in her grave. But such
+outward forms of tenderness were not possible to Mrs. Drummond's
+daughters: for in such matters we must reap as we sow; and Mrs.
+Drummond's manner hardly merited softness. For there are mothers and
+mothers; and the world must produce its Drummonds and its Challoners
+until the end of time.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+ABOUT NOTHING PARTICULAR.
+
+
+It was as well that Grace had had this talk with her brother; for,
+during the two days that remained of his brief visit, they were not
+alone together until the last half-hour before his departure. The
+young vicar had to return for his Sunday duties; but Mattie remained
+behind for another week. Archie, indeed, had once sought her in his
+old fashion,--running up to the school-room for a chat; but Susie had
+been there all the time. In former days, Archie would have sent her
+away with blunt peremptoriness; but now he seemed well content to have
+her there. He had no secrets to discuss, as he sat in his old place in
+the window-seat; yet Grace was too happy to see him there to find
+fault with his discourse.
+
+But on the morning of his departure she had come down early to pour
+out his coffee. He had bidden his mother good-bye in her room; but he
+knew that, in spite of the earliness of the hour, Grace would be in
+her place to minister to his wants.
+
+"Well, Grace," he said, entering with his travelling-plaid over his
+arm, "so it is to be good-bye until Christmas."
+
+"Yes," she returned, looking at him with a sort of wistfulness; "but
+the time will pass quickly now. It is so nice to think that we shall
+begin our new year together." And, as her brother checked an
+involuntary sigh, she went on eagerly: "If you knew how happy I am
+about it! It will be something to wake every morning and know you are
+not a hundred miles off,--that when I come down to breakfast I shall
+find you there,--that I shall be able to talk to you as much as I
+like; and as for work, why, it will be play to me to work for you,
+Archie!"
+
+"Of course I know that," rather mischievously.
+
+"I would work for you like a servant: would I not, dear? I mean to be
+ever so good to you. Your friends shall be my friends; your likes and
+dislikes shall be mine too."
+
+"Why, Gracie," he said, humoring her, "this is more than a wife would
+do for me!"
+
+"Ah! but it is not too much to ask from a sister," she returned,
+earnestly. "When you bring home your wife, Archie, I mean to be good
+to her too. I shall have to leave you then, and come back here; but if
+you are happy I shall not be miserable." But he interrupted her a
+little impatiently.
+
+"What put such nonsense into your head? I shall never marry. We shall
+be a pattern of old-bachelor brother and maiden sister." And then he
+pushed away his plate, and went to the window. "Is it not Mrs. Carlyle
+who quotes that quaint old story about some one who always thanked God
+'for the blessings that passed over his or her head'? Is not that a
+curious idea, when one comes to think it out? Fancy thanking heaven
+really and seriously for all our disappointed hopes and plans,--for
+'the blessings that go over our heads'! It would be a new clause in
+our petitions,--eh, Gracie?"
+
+"Why, yes," she replied, as she came and stood near him. "I am afraid
+I could never say that from my heart."
+
+"It is not easy," he returned, quietly; "but I do not know that we
+ought to give up trying, for all that." And then his manner changed,
+and he put his arm round her in his old fashion. "Recollect, I want
+you very much, Grace: your coming will make me far happier. Mattie
+only touches the outside of things; I want some one near me who can go
+deeper than that,--who will help me with real work, and put up with my
+bad humors; for I am a man who is very liable to discouragement." And
+when he had said this, he bade her good-bye.
+
+It was a comfort to Archie to find himself hard at work again. These
+few days of idleness had been irksome to him. Now he could throw
+himself without stint or limit into his pastoral labors, walking miles
+of country road until he was weary, and planning new outlets for the
+feverish activity that seemed to stimulate him to fresh efforts.
+
+People began to talk of the young vicar. His sermons were changed
+somehow. There was more in them,--"less of the husk, and more of the
+kernel," as Miss Middleton once remarked rather pithily.
+
+They were wonderfully brief discourses; but, whereas they had once
+been elegant and somewhat scholarly productions, they were now earnest
+and even pungent. If the sentences were less carefully compiled, more
+rough-hewn, and deficient in polish, there was matter in them that
+roused people and made them think.
+
+"I never could remember Mr. Drummond's sermons before," Dulce once
+observed, "but now I can recollect whole sentences quite nicely."
+
+Phillis, to whom she spoke, assented by a nod. If she had chosen, she
+could have admitted the fact that she could remember not sentences,
+but the entire sermon itself. In secret she marvelled also at the
+change.
+
+"He is more earnest," she would say to herself. "He preaches now, not
+from the outside, but from the inside of things,--from his own
+experience, not from other people's. That makes the difference."
+
+And to Nan, who was her other conscience, she said one day, when they
+were discussing this subject,--
+
+"I have been thinking a great deal about sermons lately. I wish I
+could publish the result of my cogitation. I feel inclined to write a
+pamphlet and entitle it 'Hints to the Clergy.' I think it would take
+vastly."
+
+It was Sunday afternoon, and they were sitting together on their
+favorite boulder. Phillis had christened it her "thinking-stone."
+
+"I never think to more purpose than when I am sitting here," she would
+say.
+
+Nan, who was looking out to sea rather dreamily, intent on her usual
+vision, Dick, roused herself at this, and began to smile in a lofty
+way.
+
+"You think yourself very clever, Phillis, and so do I; but sermons are
+hardly in your province, my dear."
+
+Phillis shook her head gravely. She dissented from this view of the
+case.
+
+"Common sense is in every one's province," she persisted. "I am a
+practical woman, and some of my hints would be valuable. Sermons are
+failures, Nan. They go over people's heads like a flight of badly-shot
+arrows. Does not Goulburn say that? Now and then one touches the mark.
+When they are all let fly hither and thither and anyhow, the preacher
+shuts up his book, and his hearers cease to yawn."
+
+"Oh, Phillis, how absurd you are! Suppose Mr. Drummond were to hear
+you?"
+
+"I should have no objection. But, Nan, seriously, do you not notice
+how formal and cut-and-dried most sermons are? They come round
+regularly, like Sunday. People have to bear being preached at, and so
+the unfortunate parson must hammer it out of his head somehow. He
+picks out his text, writes out his composition, drags in his learning
+by the ear, and delivers it in his best fashion; and people listen to
+it politely, and the best behaved do not yawn."
+
+"Phillis, you are positively irreverent! I am shocked at you!"
+
+"On the contrary, I am very reverent. Well, in my 'Hints to the
+Clergy' I would say, first, 'Never preach what you do not feel
+yourself, or the current of electricity or sympathy, or whatever it is
+that communicates between preacher and people, will be checked or
+impeded. Do not preach out of the book: we can read that for
+ourselves. Preach out of your own head and your own experience, just
+as much as you can.' Bless you," continued Phillis, in a wise,
+half-sad tone, "half the pulpits would be empty: we should get
+sometimes no sermons at all!"
+
+This was too much for Nan's simplicity.
+
+"But people would be so disappointed," she observed, plaintively. "All
+the middle-aged people like sermons."
+
+"It would not hurt them to be disappointed sometimes. They would
+appreciate the real thing all the more when it came. It is as well to
+go without food altogether as to be fed on husks. After all, people
+forget that they come to church to say their prayers all together, and
+sing glorias."
+
+"That is very nicely said, dear," was Nan's admiring comment on this.
+
+But Phillis waved aside the praise. She was quite in earnest.
+
+"But if I were speaking to one of these real and not make-believe
+preachers, I would say to him, 'Never be discouraged. Say what you
+have got to say: if you really feel it and mean it, some one will feel
+it too. You can't see into people's hearts: and a good thing, too, my
+friend. But "the arrow at the venture" may tell; some one may be "hit
+between the joints of the armor."' There, come along; you shall have
+more of my hints another time. I have said my say for the present."
+And Phillis rose from the boulder, with her eyes bright and kindled by
+some moving thought, and went down to the edge of the water, and
+watched a sea-gull dipping towards the shore in the midst of the windy
+lights; while Nan, marvelling at her sister's unusual earnestness,
+followed more slowly.
+
+The Challoners were holding up their heads in the place now. There was
+no denying that. By the people at the vicarage and the White House
+they were owned and regarded as equals. Mrs. Cheyne made no secret of
+her affection for Phillis; and she was full of kindness also to Nan
+and Dulce. It was their own fault if they declined her frequent
+invitations. But there was one person who refused to hold out the hand
+of amity to the eccentric new-comers.
+
+Colonel Middleton still shook his white head, and delivered his
+protest into his daughter's ear. Elizabeth, declared, laughingly,
+"that the Challoner girls were to her father what a red rag is to a
+bull." He never met one of them without coming home and relieving his
+mind, as he called it. "My father is dying to know them," she would
+say to Mr. Drummond. "He has fallen in love with them all,--mother and
+daughters too; but he is denying himself an introduction for a certain
+reason." But, though Archie looked curious and questioned her very
+closely, she chose to be provoking and say no more. It was Colonel
+Middleton who at last enlightened the young man.
+
+They were walking from the town together. The colonel was carrying his
+stick musket-wise over his shoulder, and had the vicar by the arm,
+when Phillis and Dulce came out of the gateway of the White House. As
+the girls passed Archie, they smiled at him and nodded, and Phillis,
+in a pretty way she had, waved her hand; and then they went on rapidly
+towards the Friary. As they did so, Colonel Middleton groaned, and
+touched his companion's arm impressively.
+
+"There, now, Drummond, did you ever see girls with a better
+carriage?--heads up--light springy step? Why, it is a pleasure even to
+an old fellow like myself to watch them. Fancy that taller one on
+horseback in the Row! Why, she would cut out half the girls. And think
+that one dare not notice them!" And he struck his stick into the
+ground almost angrily.
+
+Archie smiled: he could not help it. The colonel was so whimsical in
+his wrath.
+
+"They had plenty of notice from the folk at the White House," he
+returned, quietly.
+
+"Ah, Cheyne was always a bit of a Radical, and madam is no better.
+They can do as they like, without being afraid of consequences. But
+that is not my case." And, as Archie looked at him rather mystified,
+he went on: "Bless me, you do not suppose I am afraid of knowing them
+for my own sake? Elizabeth tells me that she is intimate with them.
+But that is not my business, so long as she does not have them at
+Brooklyn. 'We must draw the line there, Elizabeth,' I said. 'If you
+choose to visit your dressmakers, it is not for me to prevent you; you
+are old enough to select your own friends, so you may be as eccentric
+as you like. But your brother is coming home. Young men are young men;
+and I do not choose to expose Hammond to such temptation.'"
+
+"Oh, Hammond! That is your son, I suppose?" asked Archie, who was much
+amused at the colonel's earnestness.
+
+"Yes; my boy Hammond! the finest fellow in the regiment, though I say
+it, who should not. Do you think that I, his father, would expose him
+to such danger as to throw him into the society of a set of
+fascinating young women who have chosen to emancipate themselves from
+all conventionality, and who call themselves--stuff and
+rubbish!--dressmakers?"
+
+"Not call themselves, so: they are excellent dressmakers!" was
+Archie's somewhat malicious reply.
+
+"All the more reason that my son should not know them!" thundered the
+old man. "What, sir! an officer in one of her Majesty's regiments--the
+son and grandson of officers,--is such a one to be mixed up with a
+family that has lost caste,--to flirt with or make love to girls who
+are not above making gowns for my butcher's wife? Before Hammond does
+such a thing as that----" And here the colonel paused from excess of
+emotion.
+
+"You are perfectly right to defend your son from such danger,"
+returned the young clergyman with covert sarcasm. "In your case I
+should probably feel the same. But, in my position, being intimate
+with those ladies of whom you speak, and having had good opportunity
+to form my opinions of them, I cannot help saying, in their defence,
+that even your son, excellent officer as he is,--and, I am sure, a
+most worthy young man,--would scarcely be dishonored by an alliance
+with the finest young gentlewomen I ever met!" And, as he said this,
+with all due gravity, Archie released his arm, and, with a farewell
+nod, went off, leaving the colonel, open-mouthed and gasping with
+astonishment, at his own gate.
+
+Elizabeth met him on the threshold.
+
+"Oh, father, why did you not bring Mr. Drummond in!" she said,
+reproachfully; "it is so long since he has paid us a visit."
+
+"Poor Drummond!" replied the colonel, with a mournful shake of his
+head: "it is just as I thought. He has almost owned it, in fact. He is
+seriously smitten with one of those Challoner girls, and before long
+there will be a wedding in the place."
+
+"Now, father, this is just one of your whimsies," replied Elizabeth,
+placidly. "Mr. Drummond is going to have his favorite sister, Grace,
+to live with him and keep his house. He told me so himself; and that
+does not look as though he expected to bring home a wife. So you may
+just put this idea out of your head." But, though Elizabeth was well
+aware of the truth of her words, that no new mistress was to come to
+the vicarage, still her fine sympathy and unerring woman's divination
+had read the meaning of the young vicar's clouded brow, and she knew
+that he, too, had to try and be grateful for "the blessings that went
+over his head."
+
+Archie's grand and somewhat heroic speech failed in its effect, as far
+as the colonel was concerned. Elizabeth was right in saying her father
+was longing to know the Challoners. The old man's fancy had been
+mightily taken by the girls; but for Hammond, for his boy's sake, he
+was capable of any amount of self-denial. Once he was sorely tempted
+to give in. When turning the corner of the Braidwood Road, not far
+from his own house, he came suddenly upon his daughter, who was
+standing on the side-path, talking to Dulce.
+
+Dulce, who always seemed a sort of reflection and shadow of her
+sisters, and who withdrew somewhat in the background, obscured a
+little by Nan's beauty and Phillis's sprightliness, was nevertheless
+in her way a most bewitching little maiden.
+
+"There comes my father!" observed Elizabeth, tranquilly, never
+doubting that he would join them; and Dulce looked up a little shy and
+fluttered from under her broad-brimmed hat; for she had taken a fancy
+to the colonel, with his white moustache and kindly inquisitive
+eyes. He was a sort of hero in her fancy; and Dulce loved
+heroes,--especially when they wore a medal.
+
+Colonel Middleton saw the little girl dimpling and blushing with
+pleasure, and his old heart thumped a little with excitement and the
+conflict of feeling: the innocent child-look appealed to his fatherly
+sympathies. There was a moment's wavering; then he lifted his white
+hat, with a muttered "Good-morning," and the next minute he was
+walking on with squared shoulders and tremendous energy.
+
+Poor little Dulce's lip quivered with disappointment: she thought it
+hard, when other people were so kind to them. Elizabeth said nothing;
+but she bade the child good-bye with greater tenderness than usual,
+and sent all sort of messages to her mother and Nan.
+
+The colonel, meanwhile, had retreated into the house, and was opening
+his papers with more than his usual fuss.
+
+"It is for Hammond," he murmured to himself. "When one has boys, one
+must do one's duty by them; but it was confoundedly hard, by Jove!"
+And all the remainder of the day a pair of appealing eyes seemed to
+reproach him with unkindness. But Elizabeth never said a word; it was
+not her place to find fault with her father.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+"HOW DO YOU DO, AUNT CATHERINE?"
+
+
+One drizzling November morning, Mattie was standing at the hall door,
+looking out a little blankly through the open gateway at the prospect
+before her,--at the rotting leaves that lay heaped up in the road, and
+at the gray, humid sky,--when a very big man suddenly blocked up the
+entrance, and startled her dreadfully.
+
+Mattie afterwards described the occurrence very graphically to her
+brother:
+
+"He was the biggest man I ever saw in my life, Archie. He looked as
+strong as a navvy; and his shoulders reminded me of one of those men
+one sees in brewers' drays. And his face was so red, and his hair,
+too,--that dreadfully red color, you know, that no one admires; and
+his hands, and even his voice, were big."
+
+"What a fascinating description!" laughed Archie. "Upon my word,
+Mattie, you are rather tremendous in your language. Well, and what did
+the navvy say to you?"
+
+"Oh, he was not a navvy, really! Of course he was a gentleman. He
+could not help his big voice, and what he said was nice; but, I assure
+you, Archie, he nearly took my breath away;" and so on, and so on, to
+the end of her story.
+
+But it was enough to surprise any one whose nerves were not of the
+strongest, when one lives in a lonely country road, and the master of
+the house is out, to see a gigantic specimen of manhood, not very
+carefully dressed, and with hair like a red glory, come suddenly
+striding through one's open gate, without "by your leave," or waiting
+for any possible permission.
+
+Mattie dropped her umbrella,--for she was dressed in her waterproof,
+and her oldest hat, ready for her district-work; and the stranger
+picked it up, and handed it to her promptly, and then he removed his
+hat politely.
+
+"How do you do, cousin?" he said; and a broad, genial smile revealed a
+set of white teeth.
+
+Mattie retreated a step in genuine affright.
+
+"For you know, Archie," she explained afterwards, in her simple way,
+"we have no cousins worth mentioning, except Sophy Trinder, who is not
+our cousin at all, but mother's; and so you see it sounded so very
+odd."
+
+"Very odd indeed," muttered Archie.
+
+"If you please, Mr. Drummond--that is my brother--is out, and I am
+going out too," faltered Mattie, who was not a specially heroic little
+person, and who decidedly had not got her wits about her just then.
+
+"I do not want Mr. Drummond, whoever he may be. I never heard of him
+in my life. I only want my aunt and cousins. Which of them are you,
+eh? Why, you must be Nan, I suppose?" And the big man looked down at
+her with a sort of supercilious good nature. The name gave Mattie
+instant enlightenment.
+
+"Nan!--Oh, you must mean the Challoners!" she exclaimed, with a little
+gasp of surprise.
+
+"Yes, of course; I am a Challoner myself. Well, which of them are you,
+eh? You are a long time telling me your name." And the new-comer
+peered down at her still more curiously, as though he were surprised
+to find anything so small and ordinary-looking.
+
+Mattie never looked to advantage in her waterproof. More than once her
+brother had threatened to burn the old rag of a thing.
+
+"My name is Mattie Drummond," replied the bewildered Mattie, trying
+to speak with dignity,--she never would call herself Matilda, she
+hated it so,--"and I live with my brother, who is the clergyman of the
+parish. This is the vicarage: if you want the Friary, it is a little
+lower down the road."
+
+"Where?" he asked, striding to the gate; and then he came back again,
+taking the few steps at a single bound,--so at least it appeared to
+Mattie. "Why--why--there is no house at all--only a miserable cottage,
+and----"
+
+"That is the Friary," repeated Mattie, decidedly; "but it is not
+miserable at all: it is very nice and pretty. The Challoners are very
+poor, you know; but their house looks beautiful for all that."
+
+"Oh, yes; I know all about it. I have been down to that place,
+Oldfield, where they lived; and what I heard has brought me here like
+an express train. I say, Miss Mattie Drummond, if you will excuse
+ceremony in a fellow who has never seen his father's country before,
+and who has roughed it in the colonies, may I come in a moment and ask
+you a few questions about my cousins?"
+
+"Oh, by all means," returned Mattie, who was very good-natured and was
+now more at her ease. "You will be very welcome, Mr. Challoner."
+
+"Sir Henry Challoner, at your service," responded that singular
+individual with a twinkle of his eye, as Mattie became confused all at
+once. "You see," he continued, confidentially, as she led the way
+rather awkwardly to her brother's study, hoping fervently that Archie
+would come in, "I have been making up my mind to come to England for
+years, but somehow I have never been able to get away; but after my
+father's death--he was out in Australia with me--I was so lonely and
+cut up that I thought I would take a run over to the mother-country
+and hunt up my relations. He was not much of a father perhaps; but, as
+one cannot have a choice in such matters, I was obliged to put up with
+him;" which was perhaps the kindest speech Sir Francis's son could
+make under the circumstances.
+
+Mattie listened intelligently, but she was so slightly acquainted with
+the Challoners' past history that she did not know they possessed any
+relations. But she had no need to ask any questions: the new-comer
+seemed determined to give a full account of himself.
+
+"So do you see, Miss Drummond, having made my fortune by a stroke of
+good luck, and not knowing quite how to spend it--the father and
+mother both gone,--and having no wife or chick of my own, and being
+uncommon lonely under the circumstances, I thought I would just run
+over and have a look at my belongings. I have a sort of fancy for Aunt
+Catherine; she used to write me such pretty letters when I was a
+little chap in Calcutta, and tell me about Nan, and Phillis, and--what
+was the baby's name?--Dulce. I believe she and the poor old governor
+never hit it off: the old man had been a sad sinner in his day. But I
+never forgot those letters: and when he was gone, poor old boy! I said
+to myself, Now I will go and see Aunt Catherine."
+
+"And you went down to Oldfield, Sir Henry?"
+
+"Eh, what? meaning me, I suppose? but out there they called me Sir
+Harry, or Harry mostly, for what was the use of a title there? Oh,
+yes, I went down and found out all about them from a chatty little
+woman, rather like yourself, and she sent me on here."
+
+"Oh, dear, I am so glad!" exclaimed Mattie, who was now thoroughly
+herself: "they will be so pleased to see you, and you will think them
+all so charming. I am sure I never saw any one the least like them,
+except Grace, and she is not half so pretty as Nan; and as for
+Phillis, I admire her even more, she lights up so when she talks."
+
+"Aunt Catherine used to be beautiful," observed Sir Harry, gravely;
+for then and afterwards he insisted on that form of address. He was
+not English enough or sufficiently stiff for Henry, he would say.
+
+"Oh, dear, yes! she is quite lovely now,--at least Archie and I think
+so; and Dulce is the dearest little thing. I am ever so fond of them;
+if they were my own sisters I could not love them more," continued
+Mattie, with a little gush; but, indeed the girls' gentle high-bred
+ways had won her heart from the first.
+
+Sir Harry's eyes positively sparkled with delight; he had pleasant
+eyes which redeemed his other features, for it must be confessed he
+was decidedly plain.
+
+"I must shake hands with you, Miss Drummond," he said, stretching out
+a huge hand, with a diamond ring on it that greatly impressed Mattie.
+"We shall be good friends, I see that." And though poor Mattie winced
+with pain under that cordial grasp, she hid it manfully.
+
+"Did they tell you at Oldfield how poor they are?" she said, when this
+ceremony had been performed, and Sir Harry's face looked more like a
+sunset than ever with that benevolent glow on it.
+
+"Oh, yes," he returned, indifferently; "but all that is over now."
+
+"You know they have to work for their living; the girls are
+dressmakers," bringing out the news rather cautiously, for fear he
+should be shocked; a baronet must be sensitive on such points. But Sir
+Harry only laughed.
+
+"Well, they are plucky girls," he said, admiringly; "I like them for
+that." And then he asked, a little anxiously, if his aunt sewed gowns
+too,--that was how he put it,--and seemed mightily relieved to hear
+that she did very little but read to the girls.
+
+"I would not like to hear she was slaving herself at her age," he
+remarked, seriously. "Work will not hurt the girls: it keeps them out
+of mischief. But now I have come, we must put a stop to all this." And
+then he got up and threw back his shoulders, as though he were
+adjusting them to some burden; and Mattie, as she looked up at him,
+thought again of the brewer's dray.
+
+"I was afraid when he got off his chair he would touch the ceiling,"
+she said, afterwards. "He quite stooped of his own accord going
+through the study doorway."
+
+When Sir Henry had shaken himself into order, and pulled an end of his
+rough red moustache, he said, quite suddenly,--
+
+"As you are a friend of the family, Miss Drummond, I think it would be
+as well if you would go with me to the Friary and introduce me in due
+form; for, though you would not believe it in a man of my size, I am
+painfully shy, and the notion of all these girls, unless I take them
+singly, is rather overwhelming." And, though this request took Mattie
+a little by surprise, she saw no reason for refusing to do him this
+kindness. So she assented willingly, for in her heart Mattie was fond
+of a scene. It gave her such a hold on Archie's attention afterwards;
+and, to do him justice, when the Challoners were on the _tapis_, he
+made a splendid listener.
+
+Sir Henry walked very fast, as though he were in a tremendous hurry;
+but he was nervous, poor fellow, and, though he did not like to own as
+much to a woman, he would almost have liked to run away, in spite of
+his coming all those thousands of miles to see his relations. He had
+pressed Mattie into the service to cover his confusion, but the little
+woman herself hardly saw how she was needed, for, instead of waiting
+for her introduction, or sending in his name or card by Dorothy, he
+just put them both aside and stepped into the first room that stood
+handy, guided by the sound of voices.
+
+"How do you do, Aunt Catherine?" he said, walking straight up to the
+terrified lady, who had never seen anything so big in her life. "I am
+Harry,--Harry Challoner, you know,--to whom you used to write when I
+was a little slip of a boy."
+
+A strange queen in a hive of bees could not have produced more
+confusion. Dulce stopped her sewing-machine so suddenly that her
+thread broke; Phillis, who was reading aloud, let her book fall with
+quite a crash; and Nan said, "Oh, dear!" and grew quite pale with
+surprise and disappointment: for a moment she thought it was Dick. As
+for Mrs. Challoner, who had a right to her nerves from years of
+injudicious spoiling and indulgence, and would not have been without
+her feelings for worlds, she just clasped her hands and murmured "Good
+heavens!" in the orthodox lady-like way.
+
+"Why, yes, Aunt Catherine, I am Harry; and I hope you have not
+forgotten the existence of the poor little beggar to whom you were so
+kind in the old Calcutta days." And his big voice softened
+involuntarily in the presence of this dignified aunt.
+
+"Oh, no, my dear!--no!" touched by his manner, and remembering the
+boyish scrawls that used to come to her, signed "Your affectionate
+nephew, Harry." "And are you indeed my nephew?--are you Harry?" And
+then she held out her slim hand, which he took awkwardly enough.
+"Girls, you must welcome your cousin. This is Nan, Harry, the one they
+always say is like me; and this is Phillis, our clever one; and this
+is my pet Dulce." And with each one did their cousin solemnly shake
+hands, but without a smile; indeed, his aspect became almost
+ludicrous, until he caught sight of his homely little acquaintance,
+Mattie, who stood an amused spectator of this family tableau, and his
+red, embarrassed face brightened a little.
+
+"Aunt Catherine was such an awfully grand creature, you know," as he
+observed to her afterwards, in a confidential aside: "her manners
+make a fellow feel nowhere. And as for my cousins, a prettier lot
+of girls I never saw anywhere; and of course, they are as jolly and
+up to larks as other girls; but just at first, you know, I had a
+bull-in-a-china-shop sort of feeling among them all."
+
+Mrs. Challoner, in spite of her fine manners, was far too nervous
+herself to notice her nephew's discomfort. She had to mention a name
+that was obnoxious to her, for of course she must ask after his
+father. She got him into a chair by her at length, where he stared
+into his hat to avoid the bright eyes that seemed to quiz him so
+unmercifully.
+
+"And how is Sir Francis?" she asked, uttering the name with languid
+interest.
+
+"My father! Oh, did you not know, Aunt Catherine?--he died out in
+Sydney a year ago. Poor old fellow! he had a terrible illness. There
+was no pulling him through it."
+
+Mrs. Challoner roused up at this:
+
+"Your father dead! Then, Harry, you have come to the title?"
+
+But her nephew burst into a boisterous laugh at this:
+
+"Yes,--a title and an old ruin. A precious heritage, is it not? Not
+that I care what people call me. The most important part is that
+another fellow--Dalton they call him--and I made a grand hit out in
+Sydney. When I saw the money flowing in, I just sent for the poor old
+governor to join me; and we did not have a bad time of it, until the
+gout took him off. And then I got sick of it all, and thought I would
+have a look at England and hunt up my relations."
+
+Sir Harry had blurted out this long speech as he still attentively
+regarded the lining of his hat; but, happening to look up, he caught
+Phillis's eyes, which were contemplating him. The mischievous look of
+fun in them was not to be resisted. Sir Harry first got redder, if
+possible; then his own eyes began to twinkle, and finally they both
+laughed. And after that the ice was broken, and they got on famously.
+
+The girls chattered to him like magpies. They made Mattie take off her
+hat and hideous old waterproof and stay to luncheon. Nan smoothed her
+hair, which was sadly ruffled, and Phillis settled her brooch and
+collar.
+
+There was only cold mutton in the larder; but what did that matter?
+Dulce ran out in the garden and picked dahlias for the table; and Nan
+took her mother's keys and drew from the recesses of a dim
+sweet-smelling press some dainty napkins and a fine old cloth that
+might have suited a princess. There was a bottle of rare Madeira that
+remained from their stock of wine; and Dorothy had made a batch of
+fresh dinner-rolls. Dorothy was always full of resources in an
+emergency.
+
+"Don't fash yourself, Miss Nan," she said, when her young mistress
+came into the kitchen. "The cold mutton can't be helped; but we have
+got angels in the larder, and I will just pop them into the oven."
+
+Sir Harry roared with laughter when Dorothy's speech was repeated to
+him. The little puddings were declared by Mattie to be delicious; but
+Sir Harry could scarcely eat his for laughing.
+
+"Who ever heard of baked angels, Aunt Catherine!" he exclaimed, after
+another explosion.
+
+"My dear, it is only a name," she returned, mildly. "Will you have
+another, Harry? And, Nan, you must pass your cousin the Madeira."
+
+They were all seated round the table in the small parlor. It was felt
+to be a triumph when Sir Harry contrived to seat himself without
+grazing himself seriously against the chiffonnier or knocking over a
+piece of the blue-and-gold china.
+
+"What a cosey little cabin of a place!" he said with critical
+approval; "but it is rather small to hold you all,--eh, Aunt
+Catherine?"
+
+"Yes: it is small after Glen Cottage," she sighed. "We had such a
+pretty drawing-room there."
+
+"And such a lovely garden!" added Dulce.
+
+"Oh, this crib in not fit for you? We will alter all that," he
+returned, complacently. "I am the head of the family now, and I must
+take my uncle's place. I am awfully rich, Aunt Catherine; so you have
+only got to tell me what you and the girls want, you know." And then
+he rubbed his hands as though he were pleased about something.
+
+But no one took any notice of this speech, hardly knowing how to treat
+it.
+
+When luncheon--which was, indeed, the family dinner--was over, the
+girls carried him off to the work-room, and showed him specimens of
+their skill.
+
+"Very nice; very well done," he observed, approvingly.
+
+"I am glad you showed such pluck; for why any woman should think it
+_infra dig._ to make a gown for another woman quite beats me. Why,
+bless you, in the colonies we fellows turned our hands to anything!
+Well, Aunt Catherine, they are plucky ones, these girls of yours. But
+we must put a stop to this sort of thing, you and I. I don't think my
+uncle would have liked it. And as I am in his place----" And here he
+thrust aside some amber satin with his great hands, with a movement
+full of suggestive possibilities.
+
+He took them all out to walk after that. Mrs. Challoner, indeed,
+begged to be excused,--the poor lady was already sadly fatigued, and
+longed for her nap,--but he would not dispense with Mattie's company.
+
+"We were acquaintances first," he said to her; "and I look upon you as
+a sort of cousin too, Miss Mattie." And poor little Mattie, who had
+never met with so much friendliness before, quite blushed and bridled
+with pleasure.
+
+Mr. Drummond, who was coming out of his own gate, stood as though
+transfixed as the procession came towards him. The four girls were
+walking all abreast, Mattie in the middle; and beside them stalked a
+huge man, in rough, rather outlandish attire, looking like a son of
+the Anakin, or a red-headed Goliath.
+
+Archie stood still in the middle of the road, and Mattie rushed up to
+him:
+
+"We are going for a walk. Oh, Archie, I wish you would come too! It
+would be such fun!"
+
+"Yes; do come!" cried unconscious Nan, seconding her out of pure good
+nature. "Mr. Drummond, this is our cousin, Sir Henry Challoner, who
+has just come from Australia; and we have never seen him before." And
+then the young clergyman shook hands with him very stiffly, and spoke
+a few conventional words.
+
+"They have not a man belonging to them," he had said to himself,
+triumphantly, and then that odious Dick had turned up and now this
+extraordinary-looking being who called himself Sir Henry Challoner.
+
+Archie took down the "Peerage" when he got home, for he could not be
+induced to join the merry party in their walk. He found the name there
+all right,--"Henry Fortescue Challoner, son of Sir Francis Challoner,
+son of Sir Henry Challoner," and so on. It was an old baronetcy,--one
+of the oldest in England,--but the estates had dwindled down to a
+half-ruined residence and a few fields. "Challoner Place," as it was
+called, was nothing but a heap of mouldering walls; but Mattie had
+whispered to him gleefully that he was "awfully rich, and the head of
+the family, and unmarried; and he did not mean to let his cousins make
+gowns anymore for other people, though they might do it for
+themselves."
+
+Mattie never forgot that walk. Never in her life had she enjoyed such
+fun. Archie, with his grave face and prim ways, would have spoiled the
+hilarity.
+
+First Sir Henry took his cousins to the hotel, where they heard him
+order his apartments and dinner: he evidently considered he had not
+dined; and there was a good deal of discussion about some game that he
+ordered, and a certain brand of champagne that was to his liking.
+
+"If they make me comfortable, I may stop on a goodish bit," he
+informed them, "until we have settled where my aunt would like to
+live. I shall run up to London every few days, and can do all your
+commissions. By the bye, I got some trinkets for you girls on my way
+down; we will haul them over when I come up for the cup of coffee Aunt
+Catherine promised me this evening."
+
+"Now, Harry, we don't want presents," remarked Phillis, taking him to
+task as easily as though she had known him all her life long.
+
+In spite of his bigness, his great burly figure and plain face, there
+was something very pleasant about him. He was rough and unpolished,
+his dress was careless and of colonial cut; and yet one could not fail
+to see he was a gentleman. His boyishness and fun would have delighted
+Dick, who was of the same calibre; only Dick was far cleverer, and had
+more in his little finger than this great lumbering Harry in his whole
+body.
+
+He was slow and clumsy, but his heart and intentions were excellent;
+he was full of tenderness for women, and showed a touching sort of
+chivalry in his intercourse with them. In some way, his manners were
+far finer than those of a New Bond Street gentleman; for he could not
+sneer at a woman, he believed in the goodness of the sex, in spite of
+much knowledge to the contrary, he could not tell a lie, and he only
+cheated himself. This was saying a good deal for the son of that very
+black sheep Sir Francis; but, as Sir Harry once simply observed, "his
+mother was a good woman:" if this were the case, her husband's vices
+must have shortened her life, for she died young.
+
+Phillis was glad when they turned their backs on the town: she found
+her cousin's long purse a difficulty: it seemed an impossibility to
+get him past the shops.
+
+First, he was sure Aunt Catherine was fond of champagne,--all ladies
+liked sweet sparkling things; but he would see about that at the hotel
+presently. Then his attention was attracted by some grouse hanging up
+at the poulterer's: Aunt Catherine must have some grouse, as he
+remembered the cold mutton. Phillis made no objection to the grouse,
+for she knew her mother's fondness for game; but she waxed indignant
+when partridges and a hare were added, and still more when Sir Harry
+ransacked the fruiterers for a supply of the rarest fruit the town
+could afford. After this, he turned his attention to cakes and
+bonbons; but here Dulce took his part, for she loved bonbons. Phillis
+caught Nan by the arm, and compelled her to leave them; but Mattie
+deserted her friends, and remained to watch the fun.
+
+Dulce grew frightened at last, and tried to coax her cousin away.
+
+"Oh, no more--no more?" she pleaded. "Phillis and Nan will be so angry
+with us."
+
+"I don't see anything more worth getting," returned her cousin,
+contemptuously. "What a place this is, to be sure! Never mind, Dulce;
+I am going up to London to-morrow, and I will bring you down as many
+bonbons as you like from the French place in Regent Street. I will
+bring Miss Mattie some too," he continued, as the girls hurried him
+along. "And, Dulce, just write out a list of what you girls want; and
+I will get them, as sure as my name is Harry."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+ALCIDES.
+
+
+There was quite a battle-royal on the sea-shore after that: Dulce and
+Phillis pelted Laddie with bonbons; while their mother enjoyed her nap
+in the snug parlor. And Dorothy, pleased, bewildered, and half
+frightened at what the mistress might say, stowed away game and fruit
+and confectionery in the tiny larder, and then turned her attention to
+such a tea as her young ladies had not seen since the Glen Cottage
+days.
+
+Laddie raced and barked, and nearly made himself ill with the sweet
+things; and Nan laughed, and then grew serious as she remembered an
+afternoon in the Longmead Meadows, when Dick, in wild spirits, had
+pelted her and Phillis with roses until their laps were full of the
+delicious, fragrant leaves. "'Sweets to the sweet,'--so look out for
+yourself, Nan!" he had said, in his half-rough, boyish way. But that
+was in the days when both were very young and Dick had not learned to
+make love.
+
+Mattie joined in the game a little awkwardly,--it was so long since
+the poor little woman had played at anything. Her younger sisters
+never chose Mattie in their games. "She makes such mistakes, and puts
+us out; and that spoils the fun," they said; and so Grace was their
+favorite playfellow.
+
+For it is perfectly true that some grown-up people have forgotten how
+to play, while others are such children at heart that they can abandon
+themselves most joyously and gracefully to any game, however romping;
+but Mattie, who was sobered by frequent snubbing, was not one of
+these. She loved fun still, in her way, but not as Phillis and Dulce,
+who thought it the cream of life and would not be content with the
+sort of skimmed-milk existence of other young ladies.
+
+Sir Harry watched them admiringly, and his enthusiasm grew every
+moment.
+
+"I say, you are the right sort, and no mistake. I never met jollier
+girls in my life. A fellow would not know which to choose: would he,
+Miss Mattie?"
+
+Mattie took this seriously.
+
+"Nan is chosen:--are you not, Nan?" she said, in her downright
+fashion. And then, as Sir Harry stared at this, and Nan blushed and
+looked even prettier, Phillis first scolded Mattie soundly for her
+bluntness, and then took upon herself to describe Dick's perfections:
+
+"The dearest fellow in the world, Harry, when you come to know him;
+but not handsome, and dreadfully young looking, some people think.
+But, as Nan will not look at any one else, we must make the best of
+him."
+
+"And when are they to be married?" asked her cousin, curiously. He was
+not quite pleased with this discovery.
+
+"When?--Oh, Harry, there is an 'if' in the case," returned Phillis,
+solemnly. "The dearest fellow in the world has an ogre of a father,--a
+man so benighted, so narrow in his prejudices, that he thinks it
+decidedly _infra dig._ for his intended daughter in-law to sew other
+people's gowns. I do love that expression. Harry: it is so forcible.
+So he forbids the banns."
+
+"No, really!--Is she serious, Nan?" But Nan grew shy all at once, and
+would not answer.
+
+"I am serious, Sir Henry Challoner," replied Phillis, pompously. "The
+path of true love is impeded. Poor Dick is pining in his rooms at
+Oxford; and Nan--well, I am afraid her looks belie her; only you know
+appearances are sometimes deceitful." And indeed Nan's pink cheeks and
+air of placid contentment scarcely bore out her sister's words.
+
+The newly found cousin sat in silent perplexity staring at them both.
+Love-affairs were not much in his way; and until now he had never been
+thrown much with his equals in the other sex. His rough colonial life,
+full of excitement and money-getting, had engrossed his youth. He was
+now a man of thirty; but in disposition, in simplicity, and in a
+certain guilelessness of speech, he seemed hardly more than an
+overgrown boy.
+
+"Well, now, is it not like a book?" he said, at last, breaking the
+silence quite abruptly. "It must be an awful bother for you, Nan; but
+we must put a stop to all that. I am the head of the family; and I
+shall have a word to say to that Mr.--what is his name?"
+
+"Mr. Mayne," returned Nan, softly.
+
+It was at this moment that the name of Hercules came into Phillis's
+head for her cousin. What feats of strength did he mean to undertake
+on their behalf? Would he strangle the hydra-headed monster of public
+opinion that pronounced "women who sewed other women's gowns" were
+not to be received into society? Would he help Nan gather the golden
+apples of satisfied love and ambition? What was it that he meant to do
+by dint of sheer force and good nature?
+
+Harry Challoner did not long leave them in ignorance of his
+intentions. In the coolest possible way he at once assumed the
+headship of the family,--adopting them at once, and giving them the
+benefit of his opinions on every point that could possibly be mooted.
+
+"I had not a soul belonging to me until now," he said, looking around
+on his cousins' bright faces with a glow of honest satisfaction on his
+own. "It made a fellow feel precious lonely out there, I can tell
+you."
+
+"You ought to have married, Harry," suggested Dulce.
+
+"I never thought any one would care for such a great hulking fellow,"
+he returned, simply; "and then the girls over there were not to my
+taste. Besides, I never thought of it; I was too busy. I am going to
+take a holiday now, and look about me a little; and when you and Aunt
+Catherine are settled, I may have a try myself at some one," he
+finished, with a big laugh.
+
+This notion amused the girls immensely, then and afterwards. They
+began to talk of the future Lady Challoner. Nan proposed one of the
+Paines. Phillis thought if Grace Drummond were only as sweet-looking
+as her photograph he could hardly help falling in love with her. And
+Dulce was of opinion that Adelaide Sartoris, handsome and queenly as
+she was, would not consider a baronet beneath her. They confided all
+these thoughts to Sir Harry, who thanked them quite gravely for their
+interest and promised to consider the matter. He even wrote down the
+names in his pocket-book one after another.
+
+"Adelaide Sartoris, did you say? Ah, we had an Adelaide at Sydney, a
+little, dark thing, with hair blown all over her temples, and such a
+pair of mischievous eyes: that girl was always laughing at me,
+somehow. And yet she seemed sorry to bid me good-bye."
+
+"Perhaps she was in love with you?" observed Dulce. But Phillis
+frowned at this. She thought they had gone too far in their jokes
+already with a cousin who was such a complete stranger. But he
+returned, quite gravely,--
+
+"Well, now, you know, such a thing never came into my head. I talked
+to her because a fellow likes to be amused by a lively girl like Miss
+Addie. But as to thinking seriously of her--well, I could not stand
+that, you know to be laughed at all one's life; eh, Miss Mattie?" And
+Mattie, at this appeal, looked up with round, innocent eyes, and said,
+"Certainly not," in such an impressive tone that the other girls burst
+out laughing.
+
+They all went home after that. Sir Harry escorted his cousins and
+Mattie to the Friary, and then returned to his hotel to dinner. But
+the girls, who were in a merry mood, would not part with Mattie. They
+sent her home to put on her green silk dress, with strict orders that
+she was to return as soon as possible.
+
+"We are all going to make ourselves pretty," announced Phillis. "A
+cousin does not turn up every day; and when he promises to be a good
+fellow, like Harry, we cannot do him too much honor."
+
+"Ah, I should like to come," returned Mattie. "I have had such a nice
+day; and, if Archie will not mind----" And then she bustled into the
+vicarage, and into her brother's study.
+
+Archie roused himself a little wearily from his abstraction to listen
+to his sister's story; but at the end of it he said good-naturedly,
+for he had taught himself to be tolerant of Mattie's little
+gaucheries,--
+
+"And the long and short of it is that you want to be gadding again.
+Well, run and get ready, or you will keep their tea waiting; and do
+put on your collar straight, Mattie." But this slight thrust was lost
+on Mattie as she delightedly withdrew. Archie sighed as he tried to
+compose himself to his reading. He had not been asked to join Mattie.
+For the last few weeks he had become a stranger to the cottage. Did
+they notice his absence? he wondered. Did they miss the visits that
+had once been so frequent? By and by he would resume his old habits of
+intimacy, and go among them as he had done; but just now the effort
+was too painful. He dreaded the unspoken sympathy in Phillis's eyes.
+He dreaded anything like an understanding between them. Nan's perfect
+unconsciousness was helpful to him; but there was something in
+Phillis's manner that stirred up an old pain. For the present he was
+safer and happier alone in his study, though Mattie did not think so,
+and told her friends that Archie looked terribly dull.
+
+Mrs. Challoner proposed sending for him; but Phillis, greatly to her
+mother's surprise, negatived the proposition:
+
+"Oh, no, mother; pray do not! Mattie, you must excuse me. I do not
+mean to be rude, but we should all have to be so dreadfully
+well-behaved if Mr. Drummond came, and I just feel myself in a
+'nonsense mood,' as Dulce used to say when she was a baby." And then
+they all forgot Archie, and fell to discussing the new cousin.
+
+"He is dreadfully ugly, mammie, is he not?" observed Dulce, who had a
+horror of red hair. But Mrs. Challoner demurred:
+
+"Well, no, pet; I cannot agree with you. He is very plain, but so is
+Dick; but it struck me they were both rather alike." An indignant "How
+can you, mother!" from Nan. "Well, my dear," she continued, placidly,
+"I do not mean really alike, for they have not a feature in common;
+but they have both got the same honest, open look, only Dick's face is
+more intelligent." But this hardly appeased Nan, who was heard to say
+under her breath "that she thought Dick had the nicest face in the
+world."
+
+"And Sir Harry has a nice face too: has he not, Mrs. Challoner?"
+exclaimed Mattie, who never could be silent in a discussion. "It takes
+time to get used to such very red hair; and, of course, he is
+dreadfully big,--almost too big, I should say. But when he talks he
+has such a good-natured way with him; now, hasn't he?" appealing to
+Nan, who looked just a little glum,--that is, glum for Nan, for she
+could not do the sulks properly; she could only look dignified.
+
+Mrs. Challoner grew a little alarmed at her daughter's demure face:
+"Nan, darling, you know I am as fond of Dick as possible; but I cannot
+help being pleased with my new nephew, can I? And I must say I think
+Harry is very nice, in spite of his roughness." But here Phillis, who
+had been unaccountably silent, suddenly struck in:
+
+"Mother, it was a mistake mentioning Dick: the name is sacred. Nan, if
+it will please you we will declare that he is beautiful as a young
+Apollo."
+
+"Don't be a goose, Phil!" from her sister. But Nan was smiling.
+
+"As for Harry, he is a perfect hero. I expect great things from the
+great man. To my imagination he is a perfect Hercules,--Heracles, son
+of Zeus and Alcmene. I wonder if Harry could tell us the name of
+Hercules's mother?"
+
+"Of course not, and no one else either," retorted Dulce.
+
+But Phillis did not heed this.
+
+"To me he shall be the young Alcides. He has promised to fight the
+Nemæan lion, in the shape of Richard Mayne the elder. By and by we
+shall have him striking off the heads of the Lernean Hydra. You look
+mystified, Nan. And I perceive Mattie has a perplexed countenance. I
+am afraid you are deficient in heathen mythology; but I will spare
+your ignorance. You will see, though, I am right----"
+
+"But, Phillis----" broke in Dulce, eagerly. But Phillis waved her hand
+majestically at the interruption:
+
+"Mother, to be serious, I consider Harry in the light of a
+providential interposition. You are always mourning that there is not
+a man belonging to us. Well, now we have got one, large as life, and
+larger, and a very good fellow, as you say; and we are no longer
+'forlorn females.'"
+
+"And indeed, Phillis, I am most thankful for that, my dear; for if
+Harry be only as good as a brother to you----"
+
+"He means to be more," returned Phillis, with a sage nod of her head.
+"He talks in the coolest way, as though he had adopted the whole
+family and meant to put a spoke into the domestic wheel. 'I must put a
+stop to this,' or, 'That must be altered,' has been a frequent remark
+of his. Mother, if he is dreadfully rich, as he says, does he mean to
+make us rich too?"
+
+"My dear, we have no claim on him."
+
+"He thinks we have the strongest possible claim: does he not, Nan? You
+should have heard him talk this afternoon! According to him, we were
+never to sew gowns again; Nan and Dick were to be immediately united;
+the Friary was to be pulled down, and a glorified Glen Cottage to be
+erected in its stead. But mother,"--here Phillis's lip grew
+plaintive,--"you won't desert your own girls, and be talked over even
+by an Alcides? We do not mean to have our little deeds all put on the
+shelf in that off-hand fashion. I shall sew gowns as long as I like,
+in spite of a hundred Sir Harrys."
+
+And then they perceived that under Phillis's fun there was a vein of
+serious humor, and that, in spite of her admiration of her hero, she
+was a little afraid that her notions of independence would be
+wounded.
+
+They became divided on the question. Mrs. Challoner, who had never had
+a son of her own, and did not much like the idea of a son-in-law, was
+disposed to regard her nephew warmly, and to accord to him at once his
+privilege of being head of the family.
+
+"In this case, a cousin is as good as a brother," she averred; and Nan
+rather leaned to her opinion.
+
+"You see," she said, in her practical way, addressing no one in
+particular, but looking at Phillis, "it has been terribly against us,
+having no one belonging to us of the same name; and it will really
+give us a standing with some sort of people."
+
+"Fie, Nan! what a worldly speech! You are thinking of that tiresome
+Mayne _pere_ again."
+
+"I have to think of him," returned Nan, not at all put out by this.
+"Dick's father must be a person of great importance to me. He has
+often hinted in my hearing that we have no relations, and that the
+Challoner name will die out. I expect he will be rather taken aback at
+Harry's appearance."
+
+"Yes; and Dick will be jealous: he always is of other fellows, as he
+calls them. You must score that up against Dick, please. Well, I won't
+deny that Harry may make himself useful there: all I protest against
+is the idea that he will bundle us out of this dear old Friary, and
+make us grand, in spite of ourselves."
+
+"Dear old Friary!--Oh, oh!" gasped Dulce; and even Nan looked mildly
+surprised.
+
+"He will not make me give up my work until I choose," continued
+Phillis, who was in an obstinate mood. "It is not make-believe
+play-work, I can tell him that;" but Mrs. Challoner grew tearful at
+this.
+
+"Phillis, my dear, pray hush! Indeed--indeed I cannot have you talking
+as though you meant and wished to be a dressmaker all your life."
+
+And when Phillis asked, "Why not?" just for the sake of argument,--for
+in her heart she was growing heartily sick of her employment,--her
+mother threw up her hands in despair:
+
+"Oh, my dear Miss Drummond, do not believe her: Phillis is a good
+girl; but she is always like that,--hard to be convinced. She does not
+really mean it. She has worked harder than any of them; but she has
+only done it for her mother's sake."
+
+"Of course she does not mean it," echoed Nan, affectionately, and much
+struck by a sudden yearning look on Phillis's face,--an expression of
+smothered pain; but Phillis drew away from her sister's gentle grasp.
+
+"I do mean it!" she said, almost passionately. "I am dreadfully tired
+of the work sometimes, and hate it. Oh, how I hate it! But I think I
+have been happy, too. I liked the excitement of the fighting, and the
+novelty of the thing; it was such fun,--first shocking people, and
+then winning them over in spite of themselves. One felt 'plucky,' as
+Harry said. And then one's friends were so real." And her eyes fell
+unconsciously on Mattie.
+
+"Oh, yes," returned Mattie, with her usual gush: "Archie and I took to
+you from the first. I must say I was surprised, knowing how fastidious
+Archie was, and his notions about young ladies in general. But, dear,
+he never would hear a word against you: he was even angry with Colonel
+Middleton the other day because--but there! I ought not to have told
+you that."
+
+"Oh, we know all about it," returned Phillis, carelessly; but Dulce's
+bright face looked a little overcast. "Son Hammond is in the case; and
+we can all judge of a father's feelings by a certain example that
+shall be nameless. Good gracious, mammie! there comes the Alcides
+himself, and Dorothy has not cleared the tea-things! I vote we meet
+him in the garden, to avert breakages." And Phillis's proposition was
+carried out.
+
+But when they were all seated in the little parlor again, and the lamp
+was brought, sundry packages made their appearence, and were
+delightedly unpacked by the girls, Phillis assisting with great
+interest, in spite of her heroic speeches.
+
+"One can accept gifts from a cousin," she said, afterwards.
+
+Sir Harry had shown good taste in his purchases. The ornaments and
+knick-knacks were all pretty and well chosen. The good-natured fellow
+had ransacked the shops in Paris for such things as he thought would
+please his unknown cousins. The bracelets, and fans, and gloves, and
+laces, made Dulce almost dance with glee. The lace was for Aunt
+Catherine, he said; and there were gloves for everybody,--dozens and
+dozens of them. But the fans and bracelets were for the girls; and
+to-morrow he would get the bonbons for Dulce. And then, as the girls
+laughingly apportioned the spoil, he whispered something to Nan, at
+which she nodded and smiled.
+
+Mattie, who was carefully admiring the lace in her short-sighted way,
+felt something touch her elbow, and found Nan pushing a fan and a
+parcel of gloves towards her,--beautiful gloves, such as Isabel had in
+her trousseau.
+
+"Yes; take them; we have so many; and, indeed, we have no use for more
+than a fan apiece. Oh, you extravagant Harry!"
+
+Sir Harry laughed as he balanced the fan clumsily on his huge finger:
+
+"Take it; you are very welcome, Miss Mattie. You know we are quite old
+acquaintances; and, indeed, I look on you as a sort of cousin."
+
+"Oh, dear!--thank you; you are very good, Sir Harry," cried poor
+Mattie, blushing with pleasure.
+
+Never had she spent such a day in her life,--a day wherein she had not
+been once snubbed, except in that remark of Archie's about her collar,
+and that did not matter.
+
+"Poor little woman, she looks very happy!" observed Mrs. Challoner,
+benevolently, as Mattie gathered up her spoils and went out of the
+room, accompanied by Dulce. "She is such a good little soul, and so
+amiable, that it is a pity Mr. Drummond is always finding fault with
+her. It spoils him, somehow; and I am sure she bears it very well."
+She spoke to Nan, for her nephew seemed engrossed with tying up
+Laddie's front paw with his handkerchief.
+
+"I am afraid, from what she says, that they all snub her at home,"
+returned Nan. "It seems Grace is the favorite; but you know, mother,
+Mattie is just a little tiresome and awkward at times."
+
+"Yes; but she is very much improved. And I must say her temper is of
+the sweetest; for she never bears her brother any malice." But at that
+moment Mattie re-entered the room: and Sir Harry, releasing Laddie,
+proceeded, as in duty bound, to escort her to the vicarage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+SIR HARRY BIDES HIS TIME.
+
+
+Phillis might have spared herself that little outburst to which she
+had given vent on the day of her cousin's arrival. For, in spite of
+the lordly way in which he had claimed his prerogative as the only
+male Challoner, Sir Harry took no further steps to interfere with her
+liberty: indeed, as the days and even the weeks passed away, and
+nothing particular happened in them, she was even a little
+disappointed.
+
+For it is one thing to foster heroic intentions, but quite another
+when one has no choice in the matter. The heroism seemed lost,
+somehow, when no one took the trouble to combat her resolution.
+Phillis began to tire of her work,--nay, more, to feel positive
+disgust at it. The merry evenings gave her a distaste for her morning
+labors, and the daylight seemed sometimes as though it would never
+fade into dark, so as to give her an excuse for folding up her work.
+
+These fits of impatience were intermittent, and she spoke of them to
+no one: in other respects the new cousin brought a great deal of
+brightness and pleasure into their daily life.
+
+They all grew very fond of him. Mrs. Challoner, indeed, was soon heard
+to say that she almost loved him like a son,--a speech that reached
+Dick's ears by and by and made him excessively angry. "I should like
+to kick that fellow," he growled, as he read the words. But then Dick
+never liked interlopers. He had conceived a hatred of Mr. Drummond on
+the spot. Sir Harry took up his quarters at the same hotel where Dick
+and his father had spent that one dreary evening. He gave lavish
+orders and excited a great deal of attention and talk by his careless
+munificence. Without being positively extravagant he had a free-handed
+way of spending his money: as he often said, "he liked to see things
+comfortable about him." And, as his notions of comfort were somewhat
+expensive, his host soon conceived a great respect for him,--all the
+more that he gave himself no airs, never talked about his wealth
+except to his cousins, and treated his title as though it were not of
+the slightest consequence to himself or any one else; indeed, he was
+decidedly modest in all matters pertaining to himself.
+
+But, being a generous soul, he loved to give. Every few days he went
+up to London, and he never returned without bringing gifts to the
+Friary. Dulce, who was from the first his chief favorite, revelled in
+French bonbons; hampers of wine, of choice game, or fruit from Covent
+Garden, filled the tiny larder to overflowing. Silks and ribbons, and
+odds and ends of female finery, were sent down from Marshall &
+Snelgrove's, or Swan & Edgar's. In vain Mrs. Challoner implored him
+not to spoil the girls, who had never had so many pretty things in
+their lives, and hardly knew what to do with them. Sir Harry would not
+deny himself this pleasure; and he came up evening after evening,
+overflowing with health and spirits, to join the family circle in the
+small parlor and enliven them with his stories of colonial life.
+
+People began to talk about him. He was too big and too prominent a
+figure to pass unnoticed in Hadleigh. The Challoners and their odd
+ways, and their cousin the baronet who was a millionaire and
+unmarried, were canvassed in many a drawing-room. "We always knew they
+were not just 'nobodies,'" as one young lady observed; and another
+remarked, a little scornfully, "that she supposed Sir Henry Challoner
+would put a stop to all that ridiculous dressmaking now." But when
+they found that Nan and Phillis went about as usual, taking orders
+and fitting on dresses, their astonishment knew no bounds.
+
+Sir Harry watched them with a secret chuckle. "He must put a stop to
+all that presently," he said; but just at first it amused him to see
+it all. "It was so pretty and plucky of them," he thought.
+
+He would saunter into the work-room in the morning, and watch them for
+an hour together as he sat and talked to them. After the first they
+never minded him, and his presence made no difference to them. Nan
+measured and cut out, and consulted Phillis in her difficulties, as
+usual. Dulce sang over her sewing-machine, and Phillis went from one
+to the other with a grave, intent face. Sometimes she would speak
+petulantly to him, and bid him not whistle or tease Laddie: but that
+was when one of her fits of impatience was on her. She was generally
+gracious to him, and made him welcome.
+
+When he was tired of sitting quiet, he would take refuge with Aunt
+Catherine in her little parlor, or go into the vicarage for a chat
+with Mattie and her brother: he was becoming very intimate there.
+Sometimes, but not often, he would call at the White House; but,
+though the Cheynes liked him, and Magdalene was amused at his
+simplicity, there was not much in common between them.
+
+He had taken a liking to Colonel Middleton and his daughter, and would
+have found his way to Brooklyn over and over again, only the colonel
+gave him no encouragement. They had met accidentally in the grounds of
+the White House, and Mr. Cheyne had introduced them to each other; but
+the colonel bore himself very stiffly on that occasion and ever after
+when they met on the Parade and in the reading-room. In his heart he
+was secretly attracted by Sir Harry's blunt ways and honest face; but
+he was a cousin of those Challoners, and intimacy was not to be
+desired: so their intercourse was limited to a brief word or two.
+
+"Your father does not want to know me," he said once, in his outspoken
+way, to Miss Middleton, when they met at the very gate of Brooklyn,
+and she had asked him, with some little hesitation, if he were coming
+in. "It is a pity," he added, regretfully, "for I have taken a fancy
+to him: he seems a downright good sort, and we agree in politics."
+
+Elizabeth blushed; for once her courtesy and love of truth were sadly
+at variance.
+
+"He does like you very much, Sir Harry," she said; and then she
+hesitated.
+
+"Only my cousins sew gowns," he returned, with a twinkle of amusement
+in his eyes, "so he must not encourage me,--eh, Miss Middleton?--as we
+are all in the same boat. Well, we must allow for prejudice. By and by
+we will alter all that." And then he gave her a good-natured nod, and
+sauntered away to tell his old friend Mattie all about it; for he had
+a kindly feeling towards the little woman, and made her his
+confidante on these occasions.
+
+Phillis still called him Alcides, to his endless mystification: but
+she privately wondered when his labors were to begin. After that first
+afternoon he did not speak much of his future intentions: indeed, he
+was a little reserved with the girls, considering their intimacy; but
+to his aunt he was less reticent.
+
+"Do you know, Aunt Catherine," he said one day to her, "that that old
+house of yours--Glen Cottage, is it not?--will soon be in the market?
+Ibbetson wants to get off the remainder of the lease."
+
+Mrs. Challoner leaned back in her chair and put down her knitting:
+
+"Are you sure, Harry? Then Adelaide was right: she told me in her last
+letter that Mrs. Ibbetson's health was so bad that they thought of
+wintering at Hyeres, and that there was some talk of giving up the
+house."
+
+"Oh, yes, it is true," he returned, carelessly; "Ibbetson told me so
+himself. It is a pretty little place enough, and they have done a good
+deal to it, even in a few months: they want to get off the lease, and
+rid themselves of the furniture, which seems to be all new. It appears
+they have had some money left to them unexpectedly; and now Mrs.
+Ibbetson's health is so bad, he wants to try travelling, and thinks it
+a great pity to be hampered with a house at present. I should say the
+poor little woman is in a bad way, myself."
+
+"Dear me, how sad! And they have been married so short a time,--not
+more than six months. She comes of a weakly stock, I fear. I always
+said she looked consumptive, poor thing! Dear little Glen Cottage! and
+to think it will change hands so soon again!"
+
+"You seem fond of it, Aunt Catherine," for her tone was full of
+regret.
+
+"My dear," she answered, seriously, "I always loved that cottage so!
+The drawing-room and the garden were just to my taste; and then the
+girls were so happy there."
+
+"Would you not like a grander house to live in?" he asked, in the same
+indifferent tone. "I do not think it is half good enough for you and
+the girls."
+
+Mrs. Challoner opened her eyes rather widely at this: but his voice
+gave her no clue to his real meaning, and she thought it was just his
+joking way with her.
+
+"It would seem a palace after this!" she returned, with a sigh.
+"Somehow, I never cared for great big houses, they are so much expense
+to keep up; and when one has not a man in the house----"
+
+"Why, you have me, Aunt Catherine!" speaking up rather briskly.
+
+"Yes, my dear; and you are a great comfort to us all. It is so nice to
+have some one to consult; and, though I would not say so to Nan for
+the world, Dick is so young that I never could consult him."
+
+"By the bye, that reminds me I must have a look at that young fellow,"
+returned her nephew. "Let me see, the Oxford term is over, and he will
+be home again. Suppose I run over to Oldfield--it is no distance from
+town--and leave my card on Mr. Mayne senior?"
+
+"You, Harry!" And Mrs. Challoner looked quite taken aback at the
+proposition.
+
+"Well," he remarked, candidly, "I think it is about time something was
+done: Nan looks awfully serious sometimes. What is the good of being
+the head of one's family, if one is not to settle an affair like that?
+I don't feel inclined to put up with any more nonsense in that
+quarter, I can tell you that, Aunt Catherine."
+
+"But, Harry,"--growing visibly alarmed,--"you do not know Mr. Mayne:
+he can make himself so excessively disagreeable."
+
+"So can most men when they like."
+
+"Yes; but not exactly in that way. I believe he is really very fond of
+Dick; but he wants to order his life in his own way, and no young man
+will stand that."
+
+"No, by Jove! that is rather too strong for a fellow. I should say
+Master Dick could not put up with that."
+
+"It seems my poor Nan is not good enough for his son, just because she
+had no money and has been obliged to make herself useful. Does it not
+seem hard, Harry?--my beautiful Nan! And the Maynes are just nobodies:
+why, Mr. Mayne's father was only a shopkeeper in a very small way, and
+his wife's family was no better!"
+
+"Well, you must not expect me to understand all that," replied her
+nephew, in a puzzled tone. "In the colonies, we did not think much
+about that sort of thing: it would not have done there to inquire too
+narrowly into a man's antecedents. I knew capital fellows whose
+fathers had been butchers, and bakers, and candlestick-makers; and,
+bless me! what does it matter if the fellow is all right himself?" he
+finished; for the last Challoner was a decided Radical.
+
+But Mrs. Challoner, who was mildly obstinate in such matters, would
+not yield her point:
+
+"You would think differently if you had been educated at Eton. In
+England, it is necessary to discriminate among one's acquaintances. I
+find no fault with Dick: he is as nice and gentlemanly as possible;
+but his father has not got his good-breeding; possibly he had not his
+advantages. But it is they--the Maynes--who would be honored by an
+alliance with one of my daughters." And Mrs. Challoner raised her head
+and drew herself up with such queenly dignity that Sir Harry dared not
+argue the point.
+
+"Oh, yes; I see," he returned, hastily. "Well, I shall let him know
+what you think. You need not be afraid I shall lower your dignity,
+Aunt Catherine. I meant to be rather high and mighty myself,--that is,
+if I could manage it." And he broke into one of his huge laughs.
+
+Mrs. Challoner was very fond of her nephew; but she was not a clever
+woman, and she did not always understand his hints. When they were
+alone together, he was perpetually making this sort of remarks to her
+in a half-serious, half-joking way, eliciting her opinions, consulting
+her tastes, with a view to his future plans.
+
+With the girls he was provokingly reticent. Phillis and Dulce used to
+catechise him sometimes; but his replies were always evasive.
+
+"Do you know, Harry," Phillis said to him once, very gravely, "I think
+you are leading a dreadfully idle life? You do nothing absolutely all
+day but walk to and fro between the hotel and the Friary."
+
+"Come, now," retorted her cousin, in an injured tone, "I call that
+confoundedly hard on a fellow who has come all these thousands of
+miles just to cultivate his relations and enjoy a little relaxation.
+Have I not worked hard enough all my life to earn a holiday now?"
+
+"Oh, yes," she returned, provokingly, "we all know how hard you have
+worked; but all the same it does not do to play at idleness too long.
+You are very much improved, Harry. Your tailor has done wonders for
+you; and I should not be ashamed to walk down Bond Street with you any
+afternoon, though the people do stare, because you are so big. But
+don't you think it is time to settle down? You might take rooms
+somewhere. Lord Fitzroy knows of some capital ones in Sackville
+Street; Algie Burgoyne had them."
+
+"Well, no, thank you, Phillis: I don't think I shall go in for
+rooms."
+
+"Well, then, a house: you know you are so excessively rich, Harry,"
+drawling out her words in imitation of his rather slow pronunciation.
+
+"Oh, of course I shall take a house; but there is plenty of time for
+that."
+
+And when she pressed him somewhat eagerly to tell her in what
+neighborhood he meant to live, he only shrugged his shoulders, and
+remarked, carelessly, that he would have a look round at all sorts of
+places by and by.
+
+"But do you mean to take a house and live all alone?" asked Dulce.
+"Won't you find it rather dull?"
+
+"What's a fellow to do?" replied her cousin, enigmatically. "I suppose
+Aunt Catherine will not undertake the care of me?--I am too big, as
+you call it, for a houseful of women!"
+
+"Well, yes; perhaps you are," she replied, contemplating him
+thoughtfully. "We should not know quite what to do with you."
+
+"I wish I could get rid of a few of my superfluous inches," he
+remarked, dolorously; "for people seem to find me sadly in the way
+sometimes."
+
+But Dulce said, kindly,--
+
+"Oh, no, Harry; we never find you in the way: do we, mammie? We should
+be dreadfully dull without you now. I can hear you whistling a quarter
+of a mile off, and it sounds so cheerful. If there were only a house
+big enough for you next door, that would do nicely."
+
+"Oh. I dare say I shall not be far off: shall I, Aunt Catherine?" for,
+to his aunt's utter bewilderment, he had established a sort of
+confidence between them, and expected her to understand all his vague
+hints. "You will not speak about this to the girls; this is just
+between you and me," he would say to her, when sometimes she had not a
+notion what he meant.
+
+"I don't understand you, Harry," she said, once. "Why did you stop me
+just now when I was going to tell Phillis about the Ibbetsons leaving
+Glen Cottage? She would have been so interested."
+
+"You must keep that to yourself a little while, Aunt Catherine: it
+will be such a surprise to the girls, you know. Did I tell you about
+the new conservatory Ibbetson has built? It leads out of the
+drawing-room, and improves the room wonderfully, they say."
+
+"My dear Harry! what an expense! That is just what Mr. Mayne was
+always wanting us to do; and Nan was so fond of flowers. It was just
+what the room needed to make it perfect." And Mrs. Challoner folded
+her hands, with a sigh at the remembrance of the house she had loved
+so dearly.
+
+"They say Gilsbank is for sale," remarked her nephew, rather suddenly,
+after this.
+
+"What! Gilsbank, where old Admiral Hawkins lived? Nan saw the
+announcement of his death the other day, and she said then the place
+would soon be put up for sale. Poor old man! He was a martyr to
+gout."
+
+"I had a look at it the other day," he replied, coolly. "Why, it is
+not a hundred yards from your old cottage. There is a tidy bit of
+land, and the house is not so bad, only it wants doing up; but the
+furniture--that is for sale too--is very old-fashioned and shabby."
+
+"Are you thinking of it for yourself?" asked his aunt, in surprise.
+"Why, Gilsbank is a large place; it would never do for a single man.
+You would find the rooms Phillis proposed far handier."
+
+"Why, Aunt Catherine!" in a tone of strong remonstrance. "You don't
+mean to condemn me to a life of single blessedness because of my
+size?"
+
+"Oh, Harry, of course not! My dear boy, what an idea!"
+
+"And some one may be found in time who could put up even with red
+hair."
+
+"Oh, yes; that need not be an obstacle." But she looked at him with
+vague alarm. Of whom could he be thinking?
+
+He caught her expression, and threw back his head with one of his
+merry laughs:
+
+"Oh, no, Aunt Catherine; you need not be afraid. I am not going to
+make love to one of my cousins; I know your views on the subject, and
+that would not suit my book at all. I am quite on your side there."
+
+"Surely you will tell me, my dear, if you are serious?"
+
+"Oh, yes, when I have anything to tell; but I think I will have a good
+look round first." And then, of his own accord, he changed the
+subject. He was a little sparing of his hints after that, even to his
+aunt.
+
+It was shortly after this that he came into the Friary one evening and
+electrified his cousins by two pieces of news. He had just called at
+the vicarage, he said; but he had not gone in, for Miss Mattie had run
+downstairs in a great bustle to tell him her sister Grace had just
+arrived. Her brother had been down to Leeds and brought her up with
+him. Phillis put down her work; her face had become suddenly rather
+pale.
+
+"Grace has come," she half whispered to herself. And then she added
+aloud, "Poor Mattie will be glad, and sorry too! She will like to have
+her sister with her for the New Year; but in a few weeks she will have
+to pack up her own things and go home. And she was only saying the
+other day that she has never been so happy in her life as she has been
+here."
+
+"Why can't she stay, then?" asked Sir Harry, rather abruptly. "I don't
+hold with people making themselves miserable for nothing: that does
+not belong to my creed."
+
+"Oh, poor Mattie has not a choice in the matter," returned Nan, who
+had grown very fond of her little neighbor. "Though she is thirty, she
+must still do as other people bid her. They cannot both be spared from
+home,--at least, I believe not,--and so her mother has recalled her."
+
+"Oh, but that is nonsense!" replied Sir Harry, rather crossly for him.
+"Girls are spared well enough when they are married. And I thought the
+Drummonds were not well off. Did not Phillis tell me so?"
+
+"They are very badly off; but then, you see, Mr. Drummond does not
+want two sisters to take care of his house; and, though he tries to be
+good to Mattie, he is not so fond of her as he is of his sister Grace;
+and they have always planned to live together, and so poor Mattie has
+to go."
+
+"Yes, and I must say I am sorry for the poor little woman," observed
+Mrs. Challoner. "There is a large family of girls and boys,--I think
+Mr. Drummond told us he had seven sisters,--and Mattie seems left out
+in the cold among them all: they laugh at her oddities, and quiz her
+most unmercifully; even Mr. Drummond does, and Nan scolds him for it;
+but he has not been so bad lately. It is rather hard that none of
+them seem to want her."
+
+"You forget Grace is very good to her, mother," broke in Phillis,
+somewhat eagerly. "Mattie always says so."
+
+"By the by, I must have a look at this paragon. Is not her name among
+those in my pocket-book?" returned her cousin, wickedly. "I saw Miss
+Sartoris at Oldfield that day, and she was too grand for my taste.
+Why, a fellow would never dare to speak to her. I have scored that one
+off the list, Phillis."
+
+"My dears, what have you been saying to Harry?"
+
+"Oh, nothing, mammie," returned Dulce, hastily, fearing her mother
+would be shocked. "Phillis was only in her nonsense-mood; but Harry is
+such a goose, and will take things seriously. I wish you would let me
+have your pocket-book a moment, and I would tear out the page." But
+Sir Harry returned it safely to his pocket.
+
+"What was your other piece of news?" asked Nan, in her quiet voice,
+when all this chatter had subsided.
+
+"Oh, I had almost forgotten it myself! only Miss Middleton charged me
+to tell you that 'son Hammond' has arrived by the P. and O. Steamer
+the 'Cerberus,' and that she and her father were just starting for
+Southampton to meet him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+"COME, NOW, I CALL THAT HARD."
+
+
+Phillis was unusually silent during the remainder of the evening; but,
+as she bade Nan good-night at the door of her little room, she
+lingered a moment, shading the flame of her candle with her hand.
+
+"Do you think Mattie will bring her sister round to see us,
+to-morrow?" she asked, in a very low tone.
+
+"Oh, yes,--I am sure I hope so," returned Nan, sleepily, not noticing
+the restrained eagerness of Phillis's manner. "We can hardly call
+first, under our present circumstances. Mr. Drummond knows that." And
+Phillis withdrew, as though she were satisfied with the answer.
+
+Nothing more was said on the subject; and they settled themselves to
+their work as usual on the following morning, Dulce chattering and
+singing snatches of songs,--for she was a most merry little soul,--Nan
+cheerful and ready for conversation with any one; but Phillis withdrew
+herself to the farthest window and stitched away in grave silence.
+And, seeing such was her mood, her sisters wisely forbore to disturb
+her.
+
+At twelve o'clock the gate-bell sounded, and Dulce, who hailed any
+interruption as a joyful reprieve, announced delightedly that Mattie
+and a tall young lady were coming up the flagged walk; and in an
+instant Phillis's work lay untouched on her lap.
+
+"Are you all here? Oh, dear, I am so glad," exclaimed Mattie, bustling
+into the room with a radiant face. "I have brought Grace to see you;
+she arrived last night." And in a moment the young stranger was
+surrounded and welcomed most cordially.
+
+Phillis looked at her curiously for a moment: indeed, during the whole
+visit her eyes rested upon Grace's face from time to time, as though
+she were studying her. She had heard so much of this girl that she had
+almost feared to be disappointed in her; but every moment her interest
+increased.
+
+Grace Drummond was not a pretty girl,--with the exception of Isabel
+and the boys, the Drummond family had not the slightest pretension to
+beauty,--but she was fair and tranquil-looking, and her expression was
+gentle and full of character. She had very soft clear eyes, with a
+trace of sadness in them; but her lips were thin--like her
+mother's--and closed firmly, and the chin was a little massively cut
+for a woman.
+
+In looking at the lower part of this girl's face, a keen observer
+would read the tenacity of a strong will; but the eyes had the
+appealing softness that one sees in some dumb creatures.
+
+They won Phillis at once. After the first moment, her reserved manner
+thawed and became gracious; and before half an hour had passed she and
+Grace were talking as though they had known each other all their
+lives.
+
+Nan watched them smilingly as she chatted with Mattie: she knew her
+sister was fastidious in her likings, and that she did not take to
+people easily. Phillis was pleasant to all her friends and
+acquaintances: but she was rarely intimate with them, as Nan and Dulce
+were wont to be. She held her head a little high, as though she felt
+her own superiority.
+
+"Phillis is very amusing and clever; but one does not know her as well
+as Nan and Dulce," even Carrie Paine had been heard to say; and
+certainly Phillis had never talked to Carrie as she did to this
+stranger.
+
+Grace was just as must charmed on her side. On her return, she
+delighted and yet pained her brother by her warm praises of his
+favorites.
+
+"Oh, Archie!" she exclaimed, as they sat at luncheon in the old
+wainscoted dining-room at the vicarage, "you are quite right in saying
+the Challoners are not like any other girls. They are all three so
+nice and pretty; but the second one--Miss Phillis--is most to my
+taste."
+
+Archie checked an involuntary exclamation, but Mattie covered it.
+
+"Dear me, Grace!" she observed, innocently; "I rather wonder at your
+saying that. Nan is by far the prettiest: is she not, Archie? Her
+complexion and coloring are perfect."
+
+"Oh, yes! If you are talking of mere looks, I cannot dispute that,"
+returned Grace, a little impatiently; "but, in my opinion, there is
+far more in her sister's face: she has the beauty of expression, which
+is far higher than that of form or coloring. I should say she has far
+more character than either of them."
+
+"They are none of them wanting in that," replied Archie, breaking up
+his bread absently.
+
+"No; that's just what I say: they are perfectly unlike other girls.
+They are so fresh, and simple, and unconscious, that it is quite a
+pleasure to be with them: but if I were to choose a friend from among
+them I should certainly select Miss Phillis." And to this her brother
+made no reply.
+
+"They are all so pleased about Tuesday," interrupted Mattie, at this
+point,--"Nan was so interested and amused about my grand tea-party, as
+she called it. They have all promised to come, only Mrs. Challoner's
+cold will not allow her to go out this severe weather. And then we met
+Sir Harry, and I introduced him to Grace, and he will be delighted to
+come too. I wish you would let me ask Miss Middleton and her brother,
+Archie; and then we should be such a nice little party."
+
+"How can you be so absurd, Mattie?" returned Archie, with a touch of
+his old irritability. "A nice confusion you would make, if you were
+left to arrange things! You know the colonel's one object in life is
+to prevent his son from having any intercourse with the Challoners;
+and you would ask him to meet them the first evening after his arrival
+in the place."
+
+"Is the father so narrow in his prejudices as that?" asked Grace, who
+had quite forgotten her own shocked feelings when she first heard that
+Archie was visiting a family of dressmakers on equal terms.
+
+"Oh, dear! I forgot," sighed Mattie, taking her brother's blame
+meekly, as usual. "How very stupid of me! But would you not like the
+Cheynes or the Leslies invited, Archie? Grace ought to be introduced
+to some of the best people."
+
+"You may leave Grace to me," returned her brother, somewhat haughtily:
+"I will take care of her introductions. As for your tea-party, Mattie,
+I shall be much obliged if you will keep it within its first
+limits,--just the Challoners and Sir Harry. If any one be asked, it
+ought to be Noel Frere: he has rather a dull time of it, living alone
+in lodgings,"--the Rev. Noel Frere being a college chum of Archie's,
+who had come down to Hadleigh to recruit himself by a month or two of
+idleness. "Perhaps we had better have him, as there will be so many
+ladies."
+
+"Oh, yes,--of course! He is so nice and clever," observed Grace, not
+noticing the shade on Mattie's face. "How pleased you must be to have
+him staying here so long, Archie!--you two were always such
+friends."
+
+"He comes nearly every evening," returned Mattie, disconsolately. "He
+may suit you, Grace, because you are clever yourself; but I am
+dreadfully afraid of him, he is so dry and sarcastic. Must he really
+be asked for Tuesday, Archie?"
+
+"Yes, indeed: you ought to have thought of him first. I am sorry for
+your bad taste, Mattie, if you do not like Frere: he is a splendid
+fellow, though terribly delicate, I fear. Now, Gracie, if we have
+finished luncheon, I should like you to put on your wraps, and I will
+show you some of my favorite haunts; and perhaps we shall meet
+Frere."
+
+Grace hesitated for a moment. She thought Archie would have included
+Mattie in his invitation; but he did nothing of the kind, and she knew
+him too well to suggest such a thing.
+
+"Good-bye, Mattie dear. I hope you will have some tea ready for us
+when we come back," she said, kissing her sister affectionately; but
+they neither of them noticed the pained wistfulness of Mattie's look
+as the door closed upon them.
+
+They were going out without her; and on Grace's first day, too. Archie
+was going to show her the church, and the schools, and the model
+cottages where his favorite old women lived,--all those places that
+Mattie had visited and learned to love during the eight months she had
+lived with her brother. In a few weeks she must say good-bye to them
+all, and go back to the dull old house at Leeds, to be scolded by her
+mother for her awkward ways, and to be laughed at and teased by her
+brothers and sisters. Archie was bad enough sometimes, but then he was
+Archie, and had a right to his bad humors; but with the boys and girls
+it was less endurable. It was, "Oh, you stupid old Matt! Of course it
+was all your fault;" or, "Mattie, you goose!" from Fred; or, "You
+silly child, Mattie" from her father, who found her a less amusing
+companion than Grace; and even Dottie would say, "Oh, it is only
+Mattie: I never care if she scolds me."
+
+The home atmosphere was a little depressing, Mattie thought, with a
+sigh, dearly as she loved her young torments. She knew she would find
+it somewhat trying after these eight months of comparative freedom.
+True, Archie had snubbed her and kept her in order; but one tyrant is
+preferable to many. At home the thirty-years-old Mattie was only one
+of the many daughters,--the old maid of the family,--the unattractive
+little wall-flower who was condemned to wither unnoticed on its stalk.
+Here, in her brother's vicarage, she had been a person of consequence,
+whom only the master of the house presumed to snub.
+
+The maids liked their good-natured mistress, who never found fault
+with them, and who was so bustling and clever a little housekeeper.
+The poor people and the school-children liked Mattie too. "Our Miss
+Drummond" they called her for a long time, rather to Grace's
+discomfiture. "Ah, she is a rare one, when a body is low!" as old
+Goody Saunders once said.
+
+And Archie's friends respected the little woman, in spite of her
+crudities and decidedly odd ways. Miss Middleton and the Challoners
+were quite fond of her. So no wonder Mattie grew low at the thought of
+leaving her friends.
+
+Grace had come to take her place. Nevertheless, she had welcomed her
+on the previous evening with the utmost cheerfulness and
+unselfishness. She had shown her the house; she had introduced her to
+the Challoners; she had overwhelmed her with a thousand little
+attentions; and Grace had not been ungrateful.
+
+"I am afraid this is hard for you, Mattie," Grace had said to her, as
+the sisters were unpacking late the previous night. "I ought not be so
+happy to come, when I know I am turning you out." And Mattie had
+winked away a tear, and answered, quite cheerily,--
+
+"Oh, no, Grace; you must not feel that. I have had a nice time, and
+enjoyed myself so much with dear Archie, and now it is your turn; and,
+you know, he has always wanted you from the first."
+
+"Poor dear fellow!" murmured Grace; "but he looks thin, Mattie.
+Perhaps I ought to be here, as he wants me; but I shall never keep his
+house as beautifully as you have done. Mother would be astonished if
+she saw it." And this piece of well-deserved praise went far to
+console Mattie that night.
+
+But she began to feel just a little sore at breakfast-time. Once or
+twice, Archie decidedly ignored her, and turned to Grace; he even
+brought her his gloves to mend, though Mattie had been his faithful
+mender all these months.
+
+"Come into the study, and we will have a talk, Grace," he had said,
+and as Grace had involuntarily waited for her sister to accompany
+them, he had-added, hastily: "Oh, Mattie is always busy at this time
+with butchers and bakers! Come along, Grace:" and, though Mattie had
+no such business on her hands, she dared not join them.
+
+It was only when a parish meeting called the young vicar away that
+Mattie bethought herself of the Challoners.
+
+Poor Mattie! Low spirits were not much in her line. She had never
+thought enough of herself to indulge in the luxury of wounded
+susceptibility,--the atmosphere that surrounded her had been too rough
+and bracing for that; but nevertheless this afternoon she longed to
+indulge in a good cry. Happily, however, before the first tear had
+begun to redden her eyelids--indeed, she hardly got her mouth into the
+proper pucker--a vigorous pull at the bell warned her of an impending
+visitor, and immediately afterwards Sir Harry marched into the room,
+looking ruddier than ever with the cold air and exercise, his warm
+coloring kindling a glow in the room.
+
+His heavy footsteps shook the old flooring of the vicarage; but as he
+greeted Mattie he looked round him, as though somewhat surprised to
+find her alone.
+
+"How do you do, Miss Mattie? Why, what have you done with your
+sister?" he asked, in rather a disappointed tone. "I came to have a
+chat with you both."
+
+Another little sting for Mattie: he had only come to see Grace.
+
+"She has gone out with Archie," she returned, in a subdued voice. "He
+is showing her the church and the schools."
+
+"I was up at the Friary just now," he said, carelessly, "and they were
+all talking about your sister, praising her up to the skies. What an
+odd capacity women have for falling in love with each other at first
+sight! Phillis especially seemed very far gone. So I told them I would
+just come and have a good look at this paragon: one cannot judge of a
+person in a hat and veil."
+
+"I am sure you will like Grace," replied Mattie, reviving a little at
+the idea of her sister's perfections. "She is not pretty, exactly,
+though Archie and I think her so; but she is so nice and clever. Oh,
+you should hear those two talk! it is perfectly wonderful to listen to
+them!"
+
+"It strikes me you are a little left out in the cold, aren't you, Miss
+Mattie?" asked Sir Harry, with one of his shrewd good-humored looks.
+"Why did you not go out with them?"
+
+"Oh, Archie never wants me when he has Grace," answered Mattie, with a
+sudden pang at the truthfulness of this speech. "They have always been
+so much to each other, those two."
+
+"He would want you fast enough if Miss Grace--is that not her
+name?--were to marry and leave him to shift for himself," was the
+somewhat matter-of-fact answer.
+
+But Mattie shook her head at this with a faint smile:
+
+"Grace will never marry. She would not leave Archie."
+
+"Oh, but that is nonsense, do you know?--sheer nonsense! Many girls
+talk like that, but they change their mind in the end. Why, the parson
+may marry himself. You don't suppose a good looking fellow like that
+intends to be an old bachelor? And then what will Miss Grace do?"
+
+"I don't know. I am afraid she will miss him dreadfully."
+
+"Oh, but she will get over it all right. It does not do to make a fuss
+over that sort of thing. Sentimentality between brothers and sisters
+is all very well in its way, but it won't hold against a wife's or
+husband's claims. I never had any myself, so I don't know; but I find
+it precious lonely without them. That is why I have adopted my
+cousins. A man must care for some one."
+
+"Yes, indeed," echoed Mattie, with a sigh.
+
+"I am afraid your people do not use you very well, Miss Mattie," he
+went on, with cheerful sympathy that was quite a cordial in its way.
+"You look a bit down this afternoon; a fellow would call it in the
+blues, and he would be thinking of a cigar and brandy-and-soda. What a
+pity women don't smoke! it is no end soothing to the spirits!"
+
+"We have got afternoon tea," returned Mattie, beginning to smile at
+this.
+
+"Well, why don't you ring and order some?" he replied, quite
+seriously. "Do, please, Miss Mattie, if it will put a little heart
+into you. Why, I should like a cup myself uncommonly. There never was
+such a fellow for afternoon tea." And then Mattie did ring the bell,
+and, Sir Harry having stirred the fire into a cheerful blaze, and the
+little brass kettle beginning to sing cheerily on its trivet, things
+soon looked more comfortable.
+
+"Now you are all right," he remarked, presently. "You look quite a
+different sort of body now. When I first came in you reminded me of
+Cinderella in a brown dress, sitting all alone, by a very black fire.
+I do believe you were on the verge of crying. Now, weren't you, Miss
+Mattie?" And Mattie, with much shame, owned to the impeachment.
+
+"And what was it all about, eh?" he asked, with such a coaxing
+peremptoriness that Mattie confessed that she was rather dull at the
+thought that nobody wanted her, and that she must go home; and, on
+being further pressed and questioned, out it all came,--Mattie's
+shortcomings, her stupid ways, and the provocation she offered to home
+criticism. Sir Harry listened and laughed, and every now and then
+threw in a jesting remark; but so encouraging was his manner and so
+evident his interest that Mattie found herself talking as she had
+never done to any one but Miss Middleton. Before she had finished, Sir
+Harry knew all about the household in Lowder Street, and had formed a
+tolerable estimate of every member of the family,--the depressed
+father; the care-worn and some what stern mother; the boys, clever and
+handsome and flippant; the girls in all stages of awkwardness; and the
+quiet, talented Grace, who was every one's right hand, and who had
+come to the vicarage to dispossess Mattie.
+
+"Come, now, I call that hard; I do, upon my word!" he repeated more
+than once at the end of Mattie's little narrative. "Women have a lot
+put upon them. I dare say if I had had sisters I should have bullied
+them sometimes. Men are awful tyrants, aren't they, Miss Mattie?"
+
+Mattie took this literally.
+
+"I do not think you would be a tyrant, Sir Harry," she returned,
+simply, and then wondered why he suddenly colored up to the roots of
+his hair.
+
+"Oh, there is no knowing," he replied, in an embarrassed tone. "I have
+never had any one to bully. I think I shall try my hand on Dulce, only
+she is such a little spit-fire. Well, I must be going," he went on,
+straightening himself. "By the bye, I shall not see you again until
+Tuesday; I have to run over to Oldfield about a lot of business I have
+in hand. Do you know Oldfield?"
+
+"Oh, no; but Nan and Phillis have described it so often that I seem as
+though I have been there."
+
+"It is a niceish place, and I am half inclined to settle there myself;
+there is a house going that would just suit me."
+
+Mattie's face lengthened: she did not like the idea of losing Sir
+Harry, he had been so good-natured and kind to her.
+
+"One would never see you if you live at Oldfield," she said, a little
+sorrowfully; and again Sir Harry looked embarrassed.
+
+"Oh, but you will be at Leeds, so it won't make much difference. But I
+do not want to be parted from Aunt Catherine and the girls: there is a
+great deal to arrange. Perhaps, before you go, I shall be able to tell
+you that things are settled. Anyhow, good-bye till Tuesday." And then
+he nodded to her in a friendly way, and Mattie returned to her
+fireplace refreshed and comforted.
+
+Archie and Grace came in presently, bringing another current of cold
+air with them. They both looked bright and happy, as though they had
+enjoyed their walk. Grace's pale cheeks had the loveliest tinge in
+them.
+
+"Have we left you too long alone, Mattie dear?" she asked, as she took
+the cup of tea offered her. "How cosy this dear old room looks! and
+what a beautiful fire!"
+
+"Sir Harry has been emptying the coal-scuttle!" laughed Mattie. "What
+a pity you missed him, Grace! he has been so amusing."
+
+Grace smiled incredulously:
+
+"Why, that great big Sir Harry Challoner whom you introduced this
+morning! my dear Mattie, I am sure he could never be amusing. I was
+not greatly prepossessed with him."
+
+"Mattie's geese are all swans. I don't think much of him myself,"
+broke in Archie, in a satirical voice. "I like quality better than
+quantity. He is so big, I am sure his brains must suffer by
+comparison. Now, there is Frere."
+
+"Oh, yes, we met Mr. Frere!" interrupted Grace, eagerly; "and Archie
+and he had such a talk: it was delightful only to listen to it. I
+liked his ideas on ecclesiastical architecture, Archie." And then
+followed an animated discussion between the sister and brother, about
+a book of Ruskin's that they had both been reading. Mattie tried to
+follow them; but she had not read Ruskin, and they soon left her miles
+behind; indeed, after the first few minutes they seemed to have
+forgotten her existence; but somehow Mattie did not feel so forlorn as
+usual.
+
+"Come, now, I call that hard," a sympathizing voice seemed to say in
+her ear. Sir Harry's genial presence, his blunt, kindly speeches, had
+done Mattie good: he had called her Cinderella, and made the fire
+blaze for her, and had coaxed her in quite a brotherly manner to tell
+him her little troubles and Mattie felt very grateful to him.
+
+So she stared into the fire wistful and happy, while the others talked
+over her head, and quite started when she heard her own name.
+
+"We are forgetting Mattie; all this must be so dull for her," Grace
+was saying, as she touched her shoulder caressingly. "Come upstairs
+with me, dear: we can have a chat while we get ready for dinner. You
+must not let your friends make themselves so much at home, you
+extravagant child, for your fire is far too large for comfort;" but
+Mattie turned away from it reluctantly as she followed her sister out
+of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII.
+
+"I WILL WRITE NO SUCH LETTER."
+
+
+The new year had not opened very auspiciously at Longmead, neither had
+the Christmas festivities been great.
+
+Dick on his first return home had put on a great appearance of
+cheerfulness, and had carried himself much as usual; but Mr. Mayne had
+been glum, decidedly glum, and Mrs. Mayne had found it difficult to
+adjust the balance of her sympathy between Dick's voluble quicksilver
+on the one hand, and her husband's dead weight of ill humor on the
+other.
+
+The truth was, Mr. Mayne's sharp eyes had discerned from the first
+moment of his son's entrance into the house that there was no change
+in his purpose.
+
+To an outsider, Dick's behavior to his father was as nice as possible.
+He still kept up his old jokes, rallying him on his matutinal
+activity, and saying a word about the "early worm," "so bad for the
+worm, poor beggar," observed Dick. And he sauntered after him into the
+poultry-yard, and had a great deal to say about some Spanish fowls
+that had been lately imported into Longmead and that were great
+sources of pride to Mr. Mayne.
+
+Dick paid a great deal of dutiful attention to his father's hobbies:
+he put on his thickest boots every day after luncheon, that his father
+might enjoy the long walks in which he delighted. Dick used to sally
+forth whistling to his dogs when they went down Sandy Lane; he was
+careful to pause where the four roads met, that Mr. Mayne might enjoy
+his favorite view. In all these things Dick's behavior was perfect.
+Nevertheless, on their return from one of these walks they each had a
+secret grievance to pour into Mrs. Mayne's ear.
+
+Dick's turn would come first.
+
+"Mother," he would say, as he lounged into the room where she sat
+knitting by the firelight and thinking of her boy--for just now she
+was heart and soul on Dick's side--and full of yearning for the sweet
+girl whom he wanted for his wife, "I don't know how long this sort of
+thing is going on, but I don't think I can put up with it much
+longer."
+
+"Have you not had a nice walk with your father?" she asked,
+anxiously.
+
+"Oh, yes; the walk was well enough. We had some trouble with Vigo,
+though, for he startled a pheasant in Lord Fitzroy's preserve, and
+then he bolted after a hare. I had quite a difficulty in getting him
+to heel."
+
+"These walks do your father so much good, Dick."
+
+"That is what you always say; but I do not think I can stand many more
+of them. He will talk of everything but the one subject, and that he
+avoids like poison. I shall have to bring him to book directly, and
+then there will be no end of a row. It is not the row I mind,"
+continued Dick, rather ruefully; "but I hate putting him out and
+seeing him cut up rough. If he would only be sensible and give me my
+way in this, there is nothing I would not do to please him. You must
+talk to him; you must indeed, mother." And then Mrs. Mayne, with a
+sinking heart, promised that she would do what she could.
+
+And after that it would be her husband's turn.
+
+"I tell you what Bessie; I am not satisfied about that boy," he
+remarked, once, as he came in to warm his hands before going upstairs
+to dress for dinner. "I don't know from whom he gets his
+obstinacy,--not from either of us, I am sure of that,--but his
+cheerfulness does not deceive me. He means mischief; I can see that
+plainly."
+
+"Oh, Richard! And Dick has been so nice to you ever since he came
+home. Why, he has not once asked to have any of his friends down to
+stay. And before this he was never content unless we filled the house.
+He takes walks with you, and is as domesticated and quiet as possible,
+so different from other young fellows, who are always racketing
+about."
+
+"That is just what bothers me," returned her husband, crossly. "You
+have no discernment, Bessie, or you would know what I mean. I should
+not care a straw if Dick were to cram the house with young fellows:
+that sort of larking is just natural at his age. Why, he quite
+pooh-poohed the idea of a dinner-party the other night, though I
+planned it for his pleasure. His mind is set on other things, and that
+is why I say he is up to mischief."
+
+Mrs. Mayne sighed as she smoothed down her satin dress with her plump
+white hands; but she could not gainsay the truth of this speech: his
+father was right,--Dick's mind was set on other things.
+
+"I wish you would let him talk to you," she began, timidly,
+remembering her promise. "Do, my dear; for I am sure Dick is very much
+in earnest."
+
+"So am I very much in earnest," he returned, wrathfully; and his small
+eyes grew bright and irritable. "No, it is no use your looking at me
+in that way, Bessie. I am determined not to allow that boy to ruin
+his prospects for life. He will thank me one day for being firm; and
+so will you, though you do turn against your own husband."
+
+This was too much for Mrs. Mayne's affectionate nature to bear.
+
+"Oh, Richard, how can you talk so? and I have been a good wife to you
+all these years!" And here the poor woman began to sob. "You might
+make allowance for a mother's feelings; he is my boy as well as yours,
+and I would cut off my right hand to make him happy; and I do--I do
+think you are very hard upon him about Nan."
+
+Mr. Mayne stared at her in speechless amazement. Bessie, his
+long-suffering Bessie,--the wife of his bosom, over whom he had a
+right to tyrannize,--even she had turned against him, and had taken
+his son's part. "Et tu, Brute!" he could have said, in his bitterness;
+but his wrath was too great.
+
+"I tell you what," he said, rising from the seat that was no longer
+restful to him, and pointing his finger at her, "you and your boy
+together will be the death of me."
+
+"Oh, Richard, how can you be so wicked?"
+
+"Oh, I am wicked, am I? That is a nice wifely speech."
+
+"Yes, you are, when you say such things to me!" she returned, plucking
+up spirit that amazed herself afterwards. "If you do not know when you
+have a good wife and son, I am sorry for you. I say again, I think you
+are making a grievous mistake, Richard. Dick's heart is set on the
+girl; and I don't wonder at it, a dear pretty creature like that. And
+if you cross him, and set him wrong, you will have to answer to both
+of us for the consequences." And then she, too, rose, trembling in
+every limb, and with her comely face very much flushed. Even a worm
+will turn, and Bessie Mayne had for once ventured to speak the truth
+to her husband.
+
+She had the victory that night, for he was too much dumbfounded by her
+rebellion to indulge in his usual recriminations: he had never
+imagined before that Bessie owned a will of her own; but he felt now,
+with a pang of wounded self-love, that the younger Richard had proved
+a formidable rival.
+
+His wife's heart relented when she saw his moody looks; but he would
+not be reconciled to her, in spite of her coaxing speeches.
+
+"Come Richard,--come, my dear! you must not be so cross with me," she
+said to him later on that night. "We have been married
+three-and-twenty years, and have never had a serious quarrel; and I
+don't like your black looks at me."
+
+"Then you should not anger me by taking that boy's part," was his only
+answer; and he could not be induced to say anything more conciliatory.
+And the poor woman went to bed weeping.
+
+Things were in this uncomfortable state, when, one morning, Dick
+thrust his head into the study where his father was jotting down some
+household accounts; for he managed all such minor details himself,
+much to his wife's relief.
+
+"Are you particularly busy, father?--I want to have a talk with you."
+
+Mr. Mayne looked up quickly, and his bushy eyebrows drew together.
+
+"Well, yes, I am, Dick,--most particularly busy just now;" for there
+was a look on his son's face that made him feel disinclined for
+conversation.
+
+"Oh, very well, then; I can leave it until after luncheon," was the
+cheerful response; then Mr. Mayne knew that Dick was determined to
+take the bull by the horns.
+
+They went out after luncheon, taking the dogs with them, and turning
+their steps in the direction of Sandy Lane. For the first mile, Dick
+said very little; he had his eye on Vigo, who seemed to be inclined to
+bolt. But when they had reached the second mile-stone, he cleared his
+throat; and then Mr. Mayne knew that his trouble was beginning.
+
+"Well, father," commenced Dick, "I think it is about time we had a
+little serious talk together about my future plans. Of course I want
+to know if I am to go down next term."
+
+"I don't see that we need discuss that. You will read for your degree,
+of course."
+
+Mr. Mayne spoke fast and nervously; but Dick was quite cool,--at
+least, outwardly so.
+
+"There is no 'of course' in the matter. I can only read for my degree
+on one condition."
+
+"And what is that, may I ask?" with rising choler in his voice.
+
+"That you will have Nan down to Longmead, and that you and my mother
+sanction our engagement."
+
+"Never, sir! never!" in a vehement tone.
+
+"Please don't excite yourself, father. I think it is I who ought to be
+excited; but, you see, I am quite cool,--perfectly so. I am far too
+much in earnest to be otherwise. When a man's future prospects are at
+stake, and his own father seems determined to thwart him, it is time
+to summon up all one's energies. I hope you are not serious in what
+you say,--that you do absolutely refuse to sanction my engagement with
+Nan?"
+
+"There is no engagement. If there were, I do absolutely refuse; nay,
+more, I am determined actively to oppose it."
+
+"I am sorry to find you have not changed your mind; for it makes all
+the difference to me, I assure you. Very well: then I must go in for a
+City life."
+
+"Do you threaten me, sir?"
+
+"No, father, I would not be so undutiful; but it is a pity your
+throwing all that money away on my education if I am not to complete
+it. If I had taken a good degree, I might have turned out something;
+but never mind,--it can't be helped now. Then you will be kind enough
+to write a letter of introduction to Stansfield & Stansfield?"
+
+"No, sir; I will write no such letter!" thundered Mr. Mayne; and Dick
+put his hands in his pocket and whistled. He felt himself losing
+patience; but, as he said afterwards, his father was in such an awful
+rage that it was necessary for one of them to keep cool. So, as soon
+as he recovered, he said, quite pleasantly,--
+
+"Well, if you will not, you will not. We may take a horse to the
+water, but we can't make him drink. And the time has not come yet for
+a son to order his own father, though we are pretty well advanced
+now."
+
+"I think we are, Dick."
+
+"I confess I am rather disappointed at not getting that letter. Mr.
+Stansfield would have attached some importance to it; but I dare say I
+shall get on with the old boy without it. I may as well tell you that
+I shall accept anything he likes to offer me,--even if it be only a
+clerkship at eighty pounds a year. After all, I am not worse off than
+you were at my age. You began at the bottom of the ladder: so I need
+not grumble."
+
+"Do you mean to say," demanded his father, in a tone of grief, "that
+you really intend to throw me over, and not only me, but all your
+advantages, your prospects in life, for the sake of this girl?"
+
+"I think it is you who are throwing me over," returned his son,
+candidly. "Put yourself in my place. When you were a young man,
+father, would you have given up my mother, if my grandfather had
+wished you to do so?"
+
+"The cases are different,--altogether different," was the angry
+response. "I never would have married a dressmaker."
+
+"There are dressmakers and dressmakers: but at least my _fiancee_ is a
+gentlewoman," returned his son, hotly.
+
+Dick meant nothing by this speech more than his words implied: he was
+far too good-natured for an _arriere-pensee_. But his father chose to
+consider himself insulted.
+
+"You insolent young fellow!" he exclaimed, fuming. "Do you mean your
+mother was not as good as Miss Nancy, any day? I never did believe in
+those Challoners,--never, in spite of the mother's airs. I tell you
+what, Dick, you are treating me shamefully; after all the money I have
+wasted on you, to turn round on me in this way and talk about the
+City. I wash my hands of you, sir. I will have nothing to do with
+introductions: you may go your way, but you will never see a penny of
+my money." And he walked on with a very black look indeed.
+
+"All right," returned Dick. But he was not quite so cool now. "Thank
+you for all you have done for me, and for letting me know your future
+intentions. I am thinking it is a good thing Nan has learned her
+business, for, as we shall be tolerably poor, it will be handy for her
+to make her own gowns."
+
+"Very well, Dick."
+
+"I shall go up to Mr. Stansfield to-morrow; and the day after I
+suppose I had better write to the Dean. You may not believe me,
+father,"--and here Dick's lip quivered for the first time,--"but I am
+awfully sorry to cross you in this way; but my heart is so set on Nan
+that I could not possibly bring myself to live without her." But to
+this Mr. Mayne made no reply, and they walked the remainder of the way
+in silence.
+
+Mrs. Mayne's heart grew sick with apprehension when she saw their
+faces at dinner.
+
+Dick looked decidedly cross. To do him justice, the poor fellow was
+thoroughly miserable; but his aspect was cheerful compared to that of
+her husband.
+
+Mr. Mayne would not speak; neither would he eat. And even the footman,
+who took away the untasted viands, looked at his master with fear and
+trembling, his countenance was so gloomy.
+
+Dick did not seem to notice his father's failure of appetite; but Mrs.
+Mayne was one of those women who are given to fancy that if a man
+refuse his dinner there is something serious the matter with him. And
+as the meal proceeded she cast piteous looks at her son, but Dick
+totally ignored them.
+
+As soon as the servants had handed round the fruit, and had left the
+room, Mr. Mayne rose from the table, leaving his claret untasted, and
+shut himself into the library, first banging the door behind him, a
+sound that made his wife's heart palpitate.
+
+"Oh, Dick, what was happened to your father?" she asked, turning to
+her boy for comfort. But Dick was unusually sulky, and refused to
+answer.
+
+"You had better ask him, mother, if you are anxious to know," he
+replied, in a voice he very seldom used to her. "As for me, I am so
+sick of the whole thing, and feel myself so badly used, that I would
+rather not open my lips on the subject."
+
+Then Mrs. Mayne sighed, for she knew Dick had one of his obstinate
+fits on him, and that there would be no further word spoken by him
+that night.
+
+Poor woman! She knew it was her duty to go into the library and speak
+a word of comfort to her husband. It might be that Dick had been
+contumacious, and had angered his father, and it might be her task to
+pour in the balm of sympathy. Even if he had been hard on her boy, she
+must not forget that he was her husband.
+
+But as she opened the door she forgot her doubts in a moment. Mr.
+Mayne's face was so pale, despite its blackness, that she was moved to
+instant pity.
+
+"Oh, Richard, what is it?" she said, hurrying to him, "My dear, you
+must not take it to heart in this way." And she took his forehead
+between her hands and kissed it with the old tenderness she had once
+felt for him, when they, too, had lived and worked for each other, and
+there was no Master Dick to plague them and rule over his mother's
+heart.
+
+"Bessie, that boy will be the death of me," he groaned. But,
+notwithstanding the despondency of these words, the comfort of his
+wife's presence was visibly felt, and by and by he suffered her to
+coax the truth from him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+MR. MAYNE ORDERS A BASIN OF GRUEL.
+
+
+On the following morning Mr. Mayne did open his lips to address a word
+to his son:
+
+"I shall be obliged to you, Dick, if you will postpone your intended
+visit to town, for this day at least;" for Dick had an "ABC" beside
+him, and was picking out a fast train while he ate his breakfast.
+
+"All right," replied Dick: "I can wait another four-and-twenty hours."
+But though he yielded the point graciously enough, he did not look at
+his father, or say anything more on the subject; and as soon as his
+appetite was satisfied, he took up the "Times," and lounged into his
+den. Shortly afterwards they heard him whistling to his dogs, and knew
+that he would not appear until luncheon.
+
+Mrs. Mayne wished that her husband would follow his example; but he
+had put on his slippers, and showed no inclination to leave the
+fireside. He read his paper and dozed a good deal, and snapped up
+Bessie if she spoke to him: so, on the whole, Mrs. Mayne had rather a
+dull morning. When the luncheon-bell rang, he chose to put on invalid
+airs, and ordered a basin of gruel to be brought to him in the
+library. Mrs. Mayne who knew he was not ill, and that his
+indisposition was purely mental and imaginary, was yet wise enough to
+fall in with his whim.
+
+"Your master would like his gruel nicely flavored, James," she said to
+the footman. "Please ask Mrs. Simpkins to prepare it in the way he
+likes." And then she placed his favorite little table beside him, and
+stirred the fire into a more cheerful blaze.
+
+"Your father does not feel himself well enough to come in to luncheon,
+Dick," she said to her son, probably for the benefit of the servant,
+who was waiting to remove the covers; and Dick, for the same reason,
+testified a proper amount of sympathy.
+
+"He takes too long walks for a man of his age," he said, applying
+himself vigorously to the dismemberment of a chicken. "Mother, I will
+trouble you for some of that game-pie." And then he told her another
+anecdote about Vigo.
+
+After luncheon Dick again disappeared, and Mrs. Mayne, who dreaded an
+afternoon's _tete-a-tete_ with her husband in his present mood, went
+up to her own room, for some feminine business, or to take a nap. Mr.
+Mayne, a little mollified by the gruel, which had been flavored
+exactly to his liking with a _soupcon_ of rum, was just composing
+himself for another doze, when he was roused by the loud pealing of
+the hall bell, and the next moment the door was flung open by James,
+and Sir Henry Challoner was announced.
+
+It was a dark wintry afternoon, and the library was somewhat sombre:
+the fire had died down, owing to Mr. Mayne's drowsiness. In the dim
+light Sir Harry's big burly figure looked almost gigantic. Mr. Mayne,
+with his little lean shoulders and sharp face, looked beside him much
+as a small gray-hound would beside a mastiff.
+
+"How do you do?" began Sir Harry, in his loud voice. "I must apologize
+for my intrusion; but I think my name is well known to you, and needs
+no introduction. I have often heard of Mr. Mayne, I can assure you."
+
+"You do me too much honor," returned that gentleman, stiffly; and he
+glanced at the card in his hand. There it was, "Sir Henry Challoner."
+"But what the----" And here his favorite expletive rose to his lips.
+
+"We can scarcely see each other's faces," observed Sir Harry,
+cheerfully. "Will you allow me to take the liberty, though I have not
+known you for seven years--and hardly for seven minutes!" And then he
+seized the poker, and broke up an obstinate piece of coal.
+
+"Actually, in my own house, and before my own eyes," as Mr. Mayne told
+his wife afterwards.
+
+"There, now! I have made a glorious blaze. These are first-rate coals.
+Now we can have our talk comfortably together. You do not know me
+personally; but I dare say you have heard of my father,--Sir Francis
+Challoner? Poor old fellow! I am afraid too many people heard of him
+in his time."
+
+"Yes, sir: but, as it is hardly becoming of me to say to his son, I
+have never heard much good of him. If I remember rightly, he did poor
+Challoner a bad turn once."
+
+"Hush, my good friend!" And Sir Harry's ruddy face looked a little
+disturbed. "I thought no one but myself and Aunt Catherine knew that
+story. It is rather hard on a man to have this sort of things brought
+up. And the poor old governor is dead now: so, if you will permit me
+to observe, bygones had better be bygones on that subject."
+
+"Oh, by all means, Sir Harry; but you introduced the matter
+yourself."
+
+"Excuse me, Mr. Mayne," rather haughtily, "I introduced myself. I am
+the son of Sir Francis. Well, if you know so much, you will understand
+the sort of interest I take in my cousins and how I consider it my
+duty to make up to them for what they have lost."
+
+"Very proper, I am sure."
+
+"As to that, duty is a pleasure. They are such awfully jolly girls,
+and so uncommonly plucky, that I am as proud of them as though they
+were my own sisters. Nan is so confoundedly pretty, too. I don't
+wonder at your son's taste. He must be a lucky fellow who gets Nan."
+
+"Sir!" vociferated Mr. Mayne; and Sir Harry immediately changed his
+tactics:
+
+"That is a tidy place opposite you,--Gilsbank, I mean. I have been
+over there settling about the purchase. I am afraid Crauford is rather
+a screw: he wanted to drive too close a bargain. But I said, 'No; you
+shall have your money down, right and tight, but not a farthing over.'
+And I insisted on my right to change the name if I like. I have half a
+mind to call it 'Challoner Place.'"
+
+Mr. Mayne was wide awake now; his astonishment knew no bounds.
+
+"You are going to buy Gilsbank!"
+
+"I have bought it," was the cool response; "and I am now in treaty for
+Glen Cottage. My aunt has a fancy for her old home; and, though it is
+not much of a place, it is big enough for her and the girls; and
+Ibbetson has done a good deal to improve it. You look surprised, Mr.
+Mayne; but I suppose a man must live somewhere!"
+
+"Of course it is none of my business; but I thought Sir Francis was as
+poor as a church mouse. Mrs. Challoner was my informant; and she
+always led me to suppose so."
+
+"She was perfectly right. The poor old man never could keep money in
+his pocket: it always seemed to slip through his fingers. But that is
+not my case. I have been a lucky fellow all my life. I roughed it a
+bit in the colonies at first; but it did me no harm. And then we made
+a splendid hit out in Sydney,--coined money, in fact. I would not like
+to tell you what I made in one year: it seems blowing one's trumpet,
+somehow. But I soon got sick of making it; and here I am, with a tidy
+fortune,--plenty for myself, and enough to set up my aunt and the
+girls comfortably without feeling the loss. And now, Mr. Mayne when
+they are back at Glen Cottage, I want to know what you will do about
+your son."
+
+To do Mr Mayne justice, he was far too perplexed to answer off-hand;
+in fact, he was almost rendered dumb by excessive astonishment. To
+borrow his own forcible expression, used to his wife afterwards, "he
+hardly knew where he was, things were so topsy-turvy."
+
+In the old days, before Dick had produced that wonderful moustache
+that was so long in growing, Mr. Mayne had been very partial to his
+neighbors at Glen Cottage. It is always pleasant to a man to patronize
+and befriend a pretty woman; and Mrs. Challoner was an exceedingly
+pretty woman. It was quite an occupation to a busy man like the master
+of Longmead to superintend their garden and give his advice on all
+subjects that belong to a man's province.
+
+But for the last year, since Dick had so greatly developed in mental
+culture, his father had been growing very weary even of the name of
+Challoner; it had become a habit with him to decry them on every
+possible occasion. "What is in a name?" he would say, when some person
+would lament the dead-and-gone glories of Challoner Place. "There is
+not a soul belonging to them, except that disreputable Sir Francis;
+and he is as good as a beggar."
+
+But since Glen Cottage had given way to the Friary, and the
+dressmaking scheme had been carried out, his opposition had become
+perfectly frantic: he could have sworn at Dick for his senselessness,
+his want of pride, his lamentable deficiency in ambition. "Never, as
+long as my name is Richard Mayne, will I give in to that boy," he had
+vowed inwardly.
+
+And now there had suddenly started up, like a piece of gilded
+clap-trap, this amazing man of inches, calling himself their cousin,
+Sir Henry Challoner; a man who was absolutely tired of making
+money,--who called Gilsbank, a far finer house than Longmead, a tidy
+little place, and who could throw in Glen Cottage, that bijou
+residence, as a sort of dower-house for widowed Challoners; a man who
+would soon be talked about in Hadleigh, not because he was rich,--most
+of the Hadleigh families were rich,--but because he was restoring an
+ancient name to something of its old respectability.
+
+Mr. Mayne was essentially a shrewd, far-sighted man. Like other
+self-made men, he attached great importance to good blood. In a moment
+he realized that Nan Challoner of the Friary was a very different
+person from Nan Challoner of Glen Cottage, the cousin of Sir Henry
+Challoner. Under the latter circumstances she would be received on
+equal terms at Fitzroy Lodge and at the other houses of the
+aristocracy. In marrying her, Dick would be at once on an intimate
+footing with those very people who only just tolerated his father.
+
+"Well," observed Sir Harry, after a lengthy pause, "what do you say
+about the matter, eh? Though I have accumulated a pretty sum of money,
+I do not pretend to be a millionaire; and of course, as I may settle
+down some day and have a family of my own, I must not treat my cousins
+as though they were my sisters. I think of allowing my aunt a
+sufficient income during her lifetime to keep up Glen Cottage, and I
+do not mind paying the girls three thousand pounds down on their
+wedding-day just for pin-money; but more than that cannot be expected
+of me."
+
+"Of course not," returned Mr. Mayne; and then he hesitated. Three
+thousand pounds was not much of a fortune. Why, the girl he wanted for
+Dick had fifteen thousand, at least; but then Dick would not look at
+her; and even three thousand was better than nothing. "I had hoped
+better things for my son," he went on, stiffly. "I always meant Dick
+to marry money."
+
+"Oh, true, money is very good in its way; but then, you see, young
+fellows are not always to be coerced. I believe there is a very strong
+attachment between your son and my cousin Nan."
+
+"It has cost me a great deal of vexation," replied Mr. Mayne very
+testily,--all the more that his resolution was wavering. "I do not
+wish to hurt your feelings, Sir Henry, but this confounded dressmaking
+of theirs----" But here Sir Harry stopped him by a most extraordinary
+facial contraction, which most certainly resembled a wink.
+
+"Hush!" he exclaimed, in a very loud whisper. "It does not matter to
+me, of course; but if I were you, I would not mention this little fact
+to any one else. Girls are girls, and they will have their fling. A
+good steady husband, that is what they want, the best of them, to
+sober them when the right time comes. I mean to put a stop to this
+nonsense; but after all, a little bit of larking like that with a lot
+of high-spirited generous creatures, what does it matter in the long
+run? You just settle things with me off-hand, and I will come to terms
+with the young ladies. I am the head of the family, as they know." And
+Sir Harry threw out his big chest with a sudden movement of importance
+and pride. "I am the head of the family: they will be pleased to
+remember that," he repeated pompously.
+
+It was just at this moment, when victory lay within his grasp, that
+Dick sauntered lazily into the room.
+
+Dick was in an execrable humor: he was tired and worried, and his
+boots were muddy. And what was the use of being still contumacious,
+unless his obstinacy were to be a spectacle to men and gods,--unless
+he were to flaunt his ill humor in the face of his tyrant, and make
+his father's soul wretched within him? Such is youthful reasoning,
+that hates to veil its feelings unobserved.
+
+Dick had not perceived Sir Harry's card, so he stared at the intruder
+a little coolly. Sir Harry returned his look with a glance of mingled
+surprise and amusement.
+
+"Is this the young gentleman in question?" he asked, in a tone that
+roused Dick's ire. To tell the truth, he was a little disappointed by
+Nan's choice. It was not so much Dick's want of good looks, but in Sir
+Harry eyes he appeared somewhat insignificant; and then a scowl is not
+always becoming to a face. Dick's bright genial expression was
+wanting; he looked a little too like his father at this moment for Sir
+Harry's taste.
+
+"Do you mean me?" observed Dick, in a magnificent tone. "Is it I who
+am the young gentleman in question?--Father, will you have the
+goodness to introduce me to this gentleman with whom you have been
+talking me over?" And Dick twirled his moustache angrily.
+
+Mr. Mayne looked at his son's moody face, and his feelings underwent a
+sudden revulsion; but before he could speak Sir Harry stepped in
+nimbly before him:
+
+"Well now, I like spirit--no one cares to be talked about behind
+one's back. Supposing we shake hands, you and I, as we are to be so
+nearly related. I am Nan's guardian, her next of kin,--Sir Harry
+Challoner, at your service; and Nan sends her love and you are a lucky
+fellow, that is what you are!" exclaimed Sir Harry, genially, as he
+struck Dick a sounding blow on his shoulder. But Dick did not wince;
+and, though the diamond ring cut into his hand as they exchanged that
+grasp, no expression of pain crossed his face, which became all at
+once quite radiant.
+
+Sir Harry hailed the metamorphosis with delight. Here was the real
+Dick emerging like a young sun-god from the clouds.
+
+"Come, that is first-rate; I like the look of you better now," he
+said, with an appreciative nod.
+
+"Father, what does this mean?" faltered Dick.
+
+"It means," growled Mr. Mayne, for he could not get quite amiable all
+at once, though his heart was lightening in his bosom, "it means that
+I am an old fool, Dick, and that you are a young one."
+
+"No, father,--not really,--does it?" And Dick beamed still more.
+
+"And it means that you are not to plague me any more about the City.
+But there! though you have behaved so badly to me, Dick, I forgive
+you. Sir Harry and I have been talking over things, and if you will
+work hard for your degree your mother shall ask the girl down here,
+and we will see about it, and that is all I can say at present. And so
+we may as well shake hands upon it too."
+
+But Dick did more than that; he threw his arm over his father's
+shoulder with a movement that was almost caressing.
+
+"Thank you, pater; you are a brick and no mistake!" was all the
+undemonstrative Briton's tongue could say. But Mr. Mayne, as he looked
+in his boy's face and felt that pressure on his shoulder, thought them
+sufficiently eloquent.
+
+"There! get along with you, and have it out with your mother," he
+growled. But, in spite of his surly tone, Mr. Mayne felt an amount of
+relief that astonished himself: to see Dick's face happy again, to
+have no cloud between them, to know that no domestic discord would
+harass his soul and render gruel necessary to his well-being, was
+restoring him to his old self again. Sir Harry longed to throw back
+his head and indulge in a good laugh as he witnessed this little scene
+of reconciliation.
+
+Mrs. Mayne, who was sitting somewhat sadly by her own fireside,
+thinking over that day's discomfort, was quite taken aback by hearing
+Dick coming upstairs in his old way--three steps at a time--and then
+bursting into the room after a hasty knock at the door.
+
+"Mother," he cried, breathlessly, "Sir Harry Challoner is in the
+library--and pater wants you to come down and give them some tea--and
+Sir Henry is going to stop to dinner--and the woodcock is to be
+cooked--and you are to get the best room ready. But first of all--like
+the dear, darling mother you are--you are to sit down and write a
+letter to Nan."
+
+But the letter was not written then; for how could Bessie keep her
+husband and his guest waiting for their tea after such an urgent
+message? And had she not first of all to listen to Dick's incoherent
+story, which she heard better from Sir Harry afterwards, who took
+great pains to explain it to the poor bewildered woman?
+
+Mr. Mayne thought he had never seen Bessie look so handsome since the
+days he courted her, as she sat smiling at the head of the table in
+her velvet gown. And Sir Harry, too, was quite charmed with the soft,
+comely creature.
+
+Later on, while the two elder gentlemen were chatting confidentially
+over their cigars and whisky-and-water, she did manage to write a few
+lines to Nan. But it was not much of a letter; for how was she to
+construct a decent sentence with that torment Dick hanging over the
+back of her chair and interrupting her every moment? But Nan was not
+ill pleased by the missive when she received it.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+"My own dear girl," it said,--"my dearest girl,--for no daughter could
+ever be so dear to me as you will be, Nan, for my boy's sake, and
+because he loves you so." ("You are right there, mother!" struck in
+Dick, in a tone of ecstasy.) "Everything has come right, through Sir
+Henry's intercession and my Richard's goodness." ("Humph!" coughed
+Dick. "Well, it is not for the like of me to contradict you.")
+
+"You are to come to us--at once--at once,"--underlined,--"for Dick
+will be going back to Oxford, so there is no time to lose; and you
+have not got any good of your engagement yet." ("Only just at that
+last moment," muttered her son at this.)
+
+"My precious boy looks so happy that I could cry with joy to see him."
+("Oh, shut up, mother! Nan knows all that.") "And his dear father
+looks as pleased as possible, and he sends his love." ("He did indeed,
+Dick," as an incredulous sound broke from his lips), "and he says
+bygones are bygones. And you are on no account to feel yourself
+awkward as regards him, for of course Dick's _fiancee_" ("Are you sure
+that is spelt right, Dick?") "will bring her own welcome. Is not that
+a sweet speech for my Richard to say? So you will come, my dear, will
+you not? And I remain, just what I always was, my Nan's loving
+friend,
+
+                                                       "Bessie Mayne."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+And then the letter was carefully consigned to Dick's pocket, and in
+due course of time was delivered into Nan's fair hands.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV.
+
+AN UNINVITED GUEST.
+
+
+During the next few days Grace and Phillis made great strides towards
+intimacy; and, as though some magnetic influence attracted each to
+each, they were to be found constantly together. Neither of them was a
+girl to indulge in gushing sentimentality; but Grace, whose refined
+intellectual nature had hitherto met with no response except from her
+brother, perceived at once Phillis's innate superiority and clear
+generous temperament. For the first time she felt feminine friendship
+a possibility, and hailed it as a new-found joy. Nan testified her
+pleasure on more than one occasion: jealousy never found a
+resting-place in a corner of her heart.
+
+"I am so glad, Phillis," she observed, once, "that you and Grace
+Drummond like each other so much. You have never found any girl equal
+to you yet; and I was always too stupid to give you what you wanted."
+
+"Oh, Nannie, as though I would change you for a dozen Grace
+Drummonds!" returned Phillis, stanch as ever to her domestic creed,
+that there never was and never could be such another as Nan.
+
+"Oh, of course we shall always be the same to each other, you and I,"
+returned Nan, seriously, "we are such old comrades, Phil; but then I
+have Dick, and it is only fair you should have some one too;" but she
+did not understand why Phillis suddenly sighed and turned away.
+
+An amusing little incident happened to Phillis after this, which she
+greatly enjoyed. Colonel Middleton's avoidance of them had long been a
+sore point with her, as it was with Dulce.
+
+"I feel almost like that wicked Haman," she said, once, in a
+serio-comic voice, "and as if he were my Mordecai. I shall never think
+we have achieved perfect success until I have forced him to shake
+hands with me." But Nan, who cared very little about such things, only
+laughed.
+
+On Sunday morning Colonel Middleton marched up the aisle rather more
+pompously than usual, and there followed him a tall, very solemn-faced
+young man, with serious eyes that reminded them of Elizabeth.
+
+"Son Hammond," whispered Phillis, who was not always as devout as she
+ought to be; and Dulce tried hard to compose her dimples.
+
+Possibly the young officer was not as solemn as his looks, for he
+certainly paid more attention to the opposite pew than he did to his
+prayer-book; and as he walked home with his sister, Colonel Middleton
+being just then out of earshot, he questioned her rather closely on
+the subject:
+
+"Who were those girls, Elizabeth? I mean the three who were just
+opposite us with their mother. Are they visitors or residents?" Then
+Elizabeth told him very briefly their name and occupation.
+
+"Good gracious!" he returned, in a thunderstruck tone; and then all at
+once he burst out laughing, as though at a good joke:
+
+"I call that a piece of splendid pluck. Do you know, I could see in a
+moment there was something out of the common about them? They are all
+very pretty,--at least good-looking,--and I liked their quiet style of
+dress. You must introduce me to-morrow."
+
+"My dear Hammond, I can do nothing of the kind," returned Elizabeth,
+glancing round in an alarmed way. "Father has refused to have them at
+Brooklyn; and it will annoy him terribly if you were to take any
+notice of them." But to this Hammond turned a deaf ear, and, though he
+forbore to question her any further on that occasion, he had fully
+made up his mind that the introduction should take place as soon as
+possible.
+
+As it fell out, accident favored him the very next day; for, as he was
+calling with his sister, at the White House, who should be announced
+the next minute but the Misses Challoner,--Phillis and Dulce, who had
+been bidden to afternoon tea!
+
+Mrs. Cheyne kissed and welcomed them both. Then Captain Middleton was
+introduced; and they were soon chatting merrily together, to
+Elizabeth's secret amusement.
+
+Captain Middleton made himself very agreeable to the two girls, as
+Dulce observed afterwards. She had never before been so deceived in a
+man's appearance,--for he was not solemn at all; and, though the
+serious brown eyes certainly inspected them rather critically from
+time to time, he proved himself a bright amusing companion, and fully
+bore out his father's and sister's encomiums.
+
+The Middletons were easily induced to prolong their visit. Elizabeth
+felt herself a traitor to her father; but she could not refuse
+Hammond's imploring glance. And so they stayed, and all took their
+leave together.
+
+Mr. Cheyne walked down to the gate with them. He had an errand in the
+town; and he and Elizabeth walked behind the young people, talking
+them over in a low voice.
+
+Now, it so happened that Colonel Middleton was trudging down the
+Braidwood Road; and as he neared the White House he looked up, and
+there was his son walking contentedly with a Challoner girl on each
+side of him, and the three were laughing merrily.
+
+It was Dulce who saw him first.
+
+"There comes your father!" she said; and she began to blush as she
+had done on the day when he had left her at the gate of Brooklyn,
+talking to Elizabeth.
+
+Hammond proved himself quite worthy of the occasion.
+
+"Well met, father," he called out, cheerily, "We seem all going one
+way. I suppose no one needs any introduction? Of course you know my
+father, Miss Challoner?"
+
+Then the colonel threw down his arms. He had fought very bravely on
+his son's behalf; but, after all his labors, his bristling defences
+and skilful retreats, Hammond had of his own free will delivered
+himself into the hands of the Philistines. What was the use of
+guarding an empty citadel?--his treasure was already in the enemy's
+grasp.
+
+All this was written on the colonel's lugubrious face as he bowed
+stiffly and walked in sorrowful silence beside them, shaking his white
+head at intervals; but no one but Dulce took any notice of his sombre
+mood.
+
+Dulce was very timid by nature. She was the least outspoken of the
+three, and always kept in the background, like a modest little flower
+that loved the shade; but she was very soft-hearted, and had great
+regard for people's feelings. And the old man's downcast looks pained
+her; for how was she to know that he was secretly pleased at this
+meeting?
+
+"I hope--I wish--you did not mind knowing us so much. But it has not
+been our fault this afternoon," sighed Dulce, stammering and blushing
+over her words. "You will believe that, will you not, Colonel
+Middleton?"
+
+If a cannon shot had been fired into the old warrior's ear, he could
+hardly have started more than he did at these childish words. He
+looked round. There was the little girl, looking up at him with the
+innocent eyes he remembered so well, and her mouth puckered a little
+as though she wanted to cry.
+
+This was more than any man could bear, even if he had a harder heart
+than Colonel Middleton.
+
+"My dear," he said, taking the little hand, "I have always wanted to
+know you; Elizabeth will tell you that. I lost my heart to your
+sisters the first day I saw them. I am sure we shall be good friends
+in time, if you will forgive an old man's pride." And then he patted
+her hand as though she had been an infant.
+
+When Mr. Drummond sat down to dinner that evening, he astonished
+Mattie very much by saying,--
+
+"You can ask the Middletons, after all, for your tea-party, if you
+like, Mattie. What wonderful sight do you think I saw just now? Why,
+the colonel himself coming out from the Friary, and all the three
+girls were round him, chattering as though they had known him all
+their life; and I am pretty sure that in spite of the dark, I saw 'son
+Hammond' behind him." And Mattie, glad of the permission, gave the
+invitation the next day.
+
+Mattie grew a little alarmed as the evening approached. It was her
+first party and she knew Archie would be critical; but Grace proved
+herself a useful ally.
+
+In spite of her efforts to keep in the background and leave Mattie in
+her position as mistress of her brother's house, she felt herself
+becoming insensibly its presiding spirit.
+
+Archie was tolerably good-natured to Mattie; but the habits of a
+lifetime were too strong for him, and he still snubbed and repressed
+her at intervals. Mattie felt herself of no importance now that Grace
+had come: her duties were usurped before her eyes. Archie made a fresh
+demand on her forbearance every day.
+
+"Why cannot you keep to the housekeeping, and let Grace do the schools
+and visitings?" he said, once. "It must come to her by and by, when
+you are gone; and I want her to begin as soon as possible. It will not
+do to let her think she has come too soon," implying that good taste
+should lead Mattie to resign of her own account.
+
+Poor Mattie! she had many a good cry in secret before that Tuesday.
+She could hardly help feeling pained to see how all-in-all those two
+were to each other, and the glad eagerness Grace threw into her work,
+knowing the reward of commendation she would reap. "It must be so
+strange never to be snubbed or scolded,--to do everything right,"
+Mattie thought.
+
+Grace felt very sorry for her, and petted her a good deal. The dark
+little face had always a pained wistfulness on it now that touched
+her. She spoke kindly of Mattie to her brother on all possible
+occasions.
+
+"I think Mattie is so generous in giving up to me as she does," she
+observed, as Archie joined her in the drawing-room in expectation of
+their guests. Mattie had not yet made her appearance. She had been
+lighting the wax candles and trimming a refractory lamp that refused
+to burn, and had just run past her brother with blackened fingers and
+hot, tired face.
+
+"Oh, yes, she is good enough," he returned, indifferently, as he
+straightened a crooked candle; "but I wish she would not always be
+late. She has not begun to dress, and it is the time we appointed for
+the Challoners to come. Of all things I hate unpunctuality and fuss,
+and Mattie is always so fussy."
+
+Grace's conscience pricked her. "I am afraid I left her too much to
+do," she said, penitently. "Phillis asked me to go for a walk with
+them; but I ought not to have left her. I will go and help her now."
+
+But Archie objected:
+
+"No, no; let her be. You must not leave me alone to receive them. How
+nice you look in that cream-colored dress, Grace! I thought it would
+suit you." But, though his eyes rested on her as he spoke, he seemed
+rather absent. And when the door-bell rang a moment afterwards, a
+sudden flush came to his face.
+
+It was very odd to feel that he was receiving Nan as his guest. He
+had dreaded the ordeal greatly, but after the first moment it was not
+so bad. Grace, who had her suspicions and watched them closely, had
+them verified without doubt during the moment that followed the
+Challoners' entrance; but no other eyes but hers would have read
+anything amiss in the young vicar's gravely composed face.
+
+Nan, who was looking beautiful, met him with her usual
+unconsciousness: though neither of them knew it, it was this very
+unconsciousness that was fast healing the wound. One cannot mourn long
+after a lost dream, and there had never been any reality in it. Not
+one of Nan's thoughts had ever belonged to him for a moment: his
+existence, his individuality had never grazed the outer edge of her
+susceptibilities. Dick had encased her from childhood in armor of
+proof against all manhood. Archie felt this even as he touched her
+hand, and his lips gave her welcome.
+
+"I am so sorry your mother could not come," he said, politely. And
+then he turned to Phillis, who was regarding him with an odd, dubious
+look.
+
+Archie felt the look, and his spirit rose in instant opposition.
+
+"Do you know the Middletons are to be here, after all?" he said,
+moving a little into the background, for this girl had keen vision,
+and, as of old, her sympathy moved him strangely.
+
+"Oh, then we shall be quite a party," she returned, brightly. "It
+seems ages since we have been at one, and I feel disposed to enjoy
+myself. The very sight of wax candles is exhilarating. I am half
+afraid to touch coffee, for fear it will get into my head. And how
+sweet Grace looks in that dress!"
+
+"Your _chef-d'oeuvre_!" he replied, rather wickedly.
+
+"Oh, yes, I recognize my handiwork," returned Phillis, nonchalantly.
+"I am quite as proud of it as an artist would be of a picture. Here
+comes Mattie; poor little thing! she seems tired, but she looks nice,
+too."
+
+Archie moved away after this, for the Middletons were announced; but
+he thought as he left her that he had never seen her look so handsome.
+Nan's beauty had so blinded him that he had hardly been aware what a
+charming face Phillis really had: when she was pleased or excited she
+lighted up quite radiantly.
+
+"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Mattie, fussily coming up at that moment. "I
+don't know what has become of your cousin; but Captain Middleton says
+all the trains have been snowed up."
+
+"If the train he is in has been snowed up, of course we must not
+expect to see him this evening," was Phillis's laughing reply. "Never
+mind; I dare say we shall all survive it; though Harry is such a good
+fellow, and I am immensely fond of him."
+
+"Oh, but the tea and coffee will be spoiled. I must go and pour it out
+now. Look, Grace is making signs to me."
+
+"Shall I come and help you?" was the ready response. "What a pretty
+little tea-table, Mattie, and how charmingly snug it looks in the
+bay-window! The gentlemen will wait on us, of course. I like this way
+better than servants handing round lukewarm cups from the kitchen: it
+is not so grand, but it is cosier. Was it your arrangement, Mattie?"
+
+"Oh, yes," returned Mattie, in a disconsolate tone, as she took her
+place. "But, Phillis, are you really not anxious about your cousin? It
+is so dreadful to think of him snowed up all night, with nothing to
+eat and drink!"
+
+Phillis laughed outright at this.
+
+"My imagination will not conjure up such horrors. I believe Harry is
+at this moment sitting in the hotel discussing a good dinner before a
+blazing fire." And, as Mattie looked injured at this, she continued,
+still more merrily: "My dear, are you such an ignoramus as to believe
+that any amount of wax candles and charming women will induce an
+Englishman to forego his dinner? He will come by and by; and if he
+gets cold coffee, he will have his deserts." And then Mattie's anxious
+face grew more cheerful.
+
+The tea-table became the nucleus of the whole room before long. Even
+Mr. Frere, a tall scholarly-looking man, with spectacles and a very
+bald head, though he was still young, seemed drawn magnetically into
+the circle that closed round Phillis. The girl was so natural and
+sprightly, there was such buoyancy and brightness in her manner; and
+yet no man could ever have taken a liberty with her, or mistaken the
+source of that pure rippling fun. The light jesting tone, the
+unembarrassed manner, were as free from consciousness as though there
+were gray-headed dons round her. And yet, alas for Phillis! there was
+not a word uttered in a certain voice that did not reach her ear
+somehow; not a movement that was lost upon her, even when she chatted
+and laughed with those who stood round her.
+
+Colonel Middleton was stanch to his little favorite, and sat on the
+couch between her and Grace, while Nan and Miss Middleton talked
+apart. Nan watched the tea-table smilingly. She did so love to see
+Phillis happy; it never occurred to her to feel herself a little
+neglected, or to wonder why the grave young master of the house so
+seldom addressed her: thoughts of this sort never entered Nan's head.
+
+But she grew a little silent by and by, and began to answer Elizabeth
+somewhat absently. She did not know what it meant, but a certain
+strong longing took possession of her,--a sort of craving to see
+Dick's face and hear his voice. It was foolish, of course; and then
+she roused herself with difficulty.
+
+"How late Harry is! I wonder if the train be really snowed up! Oh,
+that must be he!" as the door-bell sounded. "Mattie will be glad; she
+was so afraid the coffee would be cold." For Mattie had poured this
+grievance into every one's ears.
+
+Of course it was Sir Harry. Yes, as the door opened, there were the
+broad, genial face and the massive shoulders that could only belong
+to one person. And who was this young man following him,--a somewhat
+insignificant young man compared to this son of Anak,--a young man
+with sandy hair, with a trivial moustache, with a free, careless
+expression of good-nature that seemed somehow stamped on his
+features?
+
+Nan did not speak or move in her corner; but she locked her hands
+together tightly, and a most wonderful blush came to her face; for the
+young man's eyes had moved quickly round the room, with an eager
+expression in them, and had just rested upon her.
+
+Nan sat immovable while Sir Harry, gave the necessary introduction in
+his loud, jovial voice:
+
+"I am sorry to be late,--I am, 'pon my honor, Miss Mattie! but it
+could not be helped: could it, Mayne? Mr. Drummond, I have taken the
+liberty to bring a friend with me; he is my guest at present,--Mr.
+Richard Mayne. He has come down to Hadleigh to see some old
+acquaintances of his."
+
+"Dick! Oh, Dick!" the words would come out now. Miss Middleton had
+judiciously vacated the corner of the couch, and Dick had boldly
+placed himself there instead, after first touching Nan's trembling
+hand. "What does it mean? Why have you startled me so?" she whispered,
+for they were in a snug corner, and no one was near them.
+
+"I suppose a man has a right to come and look after his own
+belongings?" returned Dick, in the coolest possible manner. But his
+eyes were more eloquent than his words, as usual. "How lovely you are
+looking, Nan! I do believe you grow prettier every day. And are you
+glad to see me?--half or a quarter as glad as I am to see you?"
+
+"I was thinking of you," she returned, softly. "I was wondering what
+you were doing, and picturing you at Longmead; and then the door
+opened, and there you were, half hidden by Harry; and I thought I was
+dreaming."
+
+"Well, that was transmission of thought, don't you see?--animal
+magnetism, and all that sort of thing. You thought of me because I was
+thinking of you; but you did not know that only the door divided us.
+Oh, Nan! isn't it awfully jolly to be together again?"
+
+"Yes; but I don't understand it yet," she replied. "Have you come
+without your father's permission, Dick? Are you sure he will not be
+very angry?"
+
+"Oh, no; the pater is all right. Sir Harry--what a brick that fellow
+is!--has talked him over, and he has given his consent to our
+engagement. Look here, Nan! what you have got to do is to pack up your
+things, and I am to take you down to-morrow. This is a note from
+mother, and you will see what she says." And Nan's gloved hand closed
+eagerly upon the precious missive.
+
+The letter could not be read just then. Nan sent Dick away after that,
+though he would willingly have remained in his corner during the
+remainder of the evening. He went off grumbling, to be civil to his
+hostess, and Nan remained behind trying to calm herself. It was "all
+right," Dick had told her. She was to go down with him the next day to
+dear Longmead. Were their troubles really over? Well, she would hear
+all about it to-morrow. She must wait patiently until then.
+
+Nan did not long remain alone. Archie, who had watched this little
+scene from the bay-window, suddenly took his opportunity and crossed
+the room.
+
+Nan looked up at him with a happy smile.
+
+"You have had a surprise this evening, have you not, Miss Challoner?
+Sir Harry has just been telling me all about it. You will permit me
+now to offer my congratulations?"
+
+"Most certainly, Mr. Drummond."
+
+"I am so glad, for both your sakes, that things should be so
+comfortably settled," he went on, placing himself beside her,--a
+movement that mightily displeased Dick, who had conceived a dislike to
+the handsome parson from the first. "A parent's opposition is always a
+serious drawback in such cases; but Sir Harry tells me that Mr. Mayne
+has given his full consent."
+
+"I believe so," returned Nan, blushing a little; "but I really hardly
+know any particulars. It is such a surprise to me altogether; but his
+mother has written to me, and I am expected down there."
+
+"You have my warmest wishes for your happiness," continued Archie,
+gravely; and then Nan thanked him.
+
+But here Dick interrupted them. He was still new to his _role_, and
+hardly had the assurance that belongs to the engaged man, who feels
+himself safely steering towards the desired haven of matrimony. It
+appeared to him that on this evening he ought not to lose sight of Nan
+for a moment. To see Mr. Drummond taking his place was too much for
+him, and he put down his untasted coffee.
+
+"I am afraid it is rather cold," observed Mattie, anxiously; but she
+spoke to deaf ears.
+
+Dick was already half-way to the corner. Nan received him a little
+shyly; but Mr. Drummond at once took the hint.
+
+"Oh, Dick, people will notice! you must take care," remonstrated Nan.
+
+She was preparing one of those gentle little lectures to which she
+sometimes treated him, and to which he was wont to listen with the
+utmost submission; but, to her intense surprise, he turned restive.
+
+"That was all very well when things were not settled between us,"
+observed Dick, decidedly. "Now we are engaged, of course I shall
+assert my rights publicly. What does it matter if people notice? They
+will only think what a lucky fellow I am, and how they would like to
+be in my place. Do you think I was going to remain at the other end of
+the room while that parson was talking to you?" And then Nan all at
+once discovered that, in spite of Dick's boyish looks and easy
+temper, she had found her master,--that, like other men, he was
+capable of jealousy and insisted on an entire and undivided
+allegiance.
+
+Nan was weak enough to like him all the better for this little touch
+of tyranny; and, after all, though she felt it a little hard on Mr.
+Drummond, who was so harmless and good-natured, the sense of this
+monopoly was very sweet to her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI.
+
+A NEW INVASION OF THE GOTHS.
+
+
+It was the most successful evening--every one said so; but, somehow,
+Mattie had not enjoyed it. She supposed she was tired; that lamp had
+worried her; but, though every one had been very pleasant, and had
+said nice things to her,--even that formidable Mr. Frere,--Mattie felt
+something had been lacking. She had been very pleased to see Sir
+Harry, and he had come up to her at once and spoken to her in his
+usual genial manner; but after the first few minutes, during which he
+had drunk his coffee standing beside her, she did not remember that he
+had again addressed her. After that, he had made his way to Grace, and
+did not stir for a long time.
+
+Mattie had Colonel Middleton on her hands then; but her eyes would
+stray to that part of the room. How pretty Grace looked in that soft
+creamy dress, with the dainty lace ruffles that Archie had sent her!
+Her face generally wanted color and animation, but to-night she was
+quite rosy by comparison. She seemed to find Sir Harry amusing, for
+she looked up at him very brightly. And then Archie joined them: he
+would not be _de trop_ there, he knew. And the three talked as though
+they never meant to leave off.
+
+When Sir Harry came to take his leave, he said, a little abruptly,--
+
+"I like that sister of yours, Miss Mattie. She is sensible for a girl;
+and yet she knows how to laugh. Clever girls are generally a little
+priggish, do you know? But one need not be afraid of Miss Grace." And
+Mattie knew that from Sir Harry this was high praise.
+
+"Every one likes Grace," she faltered.
+
+"I am not surprised at that," was the ready response; and then he
+shook hands and thanked her for the pleasant evening. He did not even
+look at her as he spoke, Mattie remembered afterwards: he was watching
+Nan, who was smiling on Dick's arm.
+
+The young vicar stood bare-headed on the snowy door-step, as his
+guests merrily trooped out together. Dick and Nan came first: Nan had
+a scarlet hood over her bright hair, and Dick was grumbling over the
+lightness of her cloak, and was wrapping his gray overcoat round her.
+
+"Nonsense, Nan! I insist upon it! and you know nothing gives me cold!"
+Dick was saying, in his authoritative way; and then of course Nan
+yielded.
+
+"'Oh, wert thou in the cauld blast,'" sang Phillis, mockingly, who was
+following them under Captain Middleton's escort. "Don't you think
+engaged people are sometimes very masterful?" She spoke, of course, to
+her companion; but he had turned to warn his father and Dulce of an
+awkward step, and Archie intercepted the sentence:
+
+"Most men are masterful, Miss Challoner. You will find that out some
+day for yourself." He meant nothing by this little speech, and he was
+rather taken aback by the sudden hot blush that came to the girl's
+face, and the almost angry light in her eyes, as she turned away from
+him and ran down the slippery steps, to Captain Middleton's alarm.
+
+"'On yonder lea, on yonder lea,'" they heard her humming gayly; and
+Hammond caught the refrain, and finished it in a fine manly bass,
+while Archie stood still under the wintry sky. Why had she looked like
+that at him? What was there in his lightly-uttered speech to offend
+her?
+
+Grace was standing alone when he re-entered the drawing-room. Most of
+the wax candles were extinguished, but the soft glow of the firelight
+irradiated the farthest corner of the room.
+
+"What a glorious fire!" he said, warming his chilly hands at it, and
+then throwing himself into the easy-chair that Grace silently placed
+for him. "And where is Mattie? Really, she did very well to-night."
+
+"You must tell her to-morrow, she will be so pleased; she seems tired,
+and her head aches, so I advised her to go to bed." And, though Archie
+did not say openly that he approved of this sensible advice, he
+implied it by the way he drew a low chair forward for Grace,--so close
+beside him that she could rest her arm upon the cushioned elbow of
+his.
+
+They remained comfortably silent for along time: it was Grace who
+spoke first.
+
+"Archie," she said, rather nervously, but her eyes had a settled
+purpose in them, "shall you be angry if I disobey you, dear, and speak
+again on a certain subject?"
+
+"What subject?" he asked, rather surprised by her manner. He had not a
+notion to what she was referring; he did not know how during that long
+silence their thoughts had been couching the same point, and that all
+this time she was seeking courage to speak to him.
+
+"I know your secret, Archie; I discovered it to-night."
+
+"My secret!" he returned, in utter amazement. "I have no secret,
+Gracie." And then, as he caught her meaning, a cloud came to his brow.
+"But this is nonsense!" he continued harshly,--"pure nonsense; put it
+out of your head."
+
+"I saw it to-night," she went on, in a very low voice, undisturbed by
+his evident displeasure. "She is good and sweet, and quite lovely,
+Archie, and that young man is not half worthy of her; but she has no
+thought but for him."
+
+"Do you think I do not know that?" he returned, in an exasperated
+tone. "Grace, I will not have you talk in this way. I am cured,--quite
+cured: it was nothing but a passing folly."
+
+"A folly that made you very unhappy, my poor Archie; but--hush! you
+must not interrupt me--I am not going to talk about her."
+
+"Oh, that is well," he returned, in a relieved tone.
+
+"I was sorry--just a little sorry--at first, because I knew how much
+it had cost you; but this evening I could have found it in my heart to
+be angry with you,--yes, even with you. 'Oh, the blindness of these
+men!' I thought: 'why will they trample on their own happiness?'"
+
+"Are you speaking of me?" he asked, in a bewildered tone.
+
+"Of whom should I be speaking?" she answered; and her voice had a
+peculiar meaning in it. "You are my dear brother,--my dearest brother;
+but you are no more sensible than other men."
+
+"I suppose not," he returned, staring at her; "I suppose not."
+
+"Many men have done what you are doing," she went on, quietly. "Many
+have wanted what belonged to another, and have turned their backs upon
+the blessing that might have been theirs. It is the game of
+cross-purposes. Do you remember that picture, Archie,--the lovely
+print you longed to buy--the two girls and the two men? There was the
+pretty demure maiden in front, and at the back a girl with a far
+sweeter face to my mind, watching the gloomy-looking fellow who is
+regarding his divinity from afar. There was a face here to-night that
+brought that second girl strongly to my mind; and I caught an
+expression on it once----" Here Archie violently started.
+
+"Hush! hush! what are you implying? Grace, you are romancing; you do
+not mean this?"
+
+"As there is a heaven above us, I do mean it, Archie."
+
+"Then, for God's sake, not another word!" And then he rose from his
+seat, and stood on the rug.
+
+"You are not really angry with me?" she urged, frightened at his
+vehemence.
+
+"No; I am not angry. I never am angry with you, Grace, as you know;
+but all the same there are some things that never should be said."
+And, when he had thus gravely rebuked her speech, he kissed her
+forehead, and muttering some excuse about the lateness of the hour,
+left the room.
+
+Grace crept away to her chamber a little discomfited by this rebuff,
+gently as it had been given; but if she had only guessed the commotion
+those few hinted words had raised in her brother's mind!
+
+He had understood her; in one moment he had understood her. As though
+by a lightning-flash of intelligence, the truth had dawned upon him;
+and if an electric shock had passed through his frame and set all his
+nerves tingling he could not have been more deeply shaken.
+
+Was that what she thought, too, when she had turned away from him with
+that quiet look of scorn on her face! Did she know of any possible
+blessing that might have been his, only that he had turned his back
+upon it, crying out childishly for a shadowy happiness? Did she mutter
+to herself also, "Oh, the blindness of these men!"?
+
+There is an old saying, greatly credited by the generality of people,
+that hearts are often caught at the rebound,--that in their painful
+tossings from uneven heights and depths, and that sad swinging over
+uncertain abysses, some are suddenly attracted and held fast; and
+there is sufficient proof to warrant the truth of this adage.
+
+The measurements of pain are unequal: different natures hold different
+capacities. A trouble that seems very real at the time, and full of
+stings, may be found later on to be largely alloyed by wounded
+self-love and frustrated vanity. Sound it with the plumb-line of
+experience, of time, of wakening hopefulness, and it may sink fathoms,
+and by and by end in nothingness, or perhaps more truly in just a
+sense of salt bitterness between the teeth, as when one plunges in a
+waning tide.
+
+Not that Archie realized all this as he paced his room that night: no;
+he was very strangely moved and excited. Something, he knew not what,
+had again stirred the monotony of his life. He had been sick and sad
+for a long time; for men are like children, and fret sometimes after
+the unattainable, if their hearts be set upon it. And yet, though he
+forbore to question himself too closely that night, how much of his
+pain had been due to wounded vanity and crossed wilfulness!
+
+It was long before he could sleep, for the sudden broadening of the
+prospective of his future kept him wide awake and restless. It was as
+though he had been straining his eyes to look down a long, gray vista,
+where he saw things dimly, and that suddenly there was a low light on
+the horizon,--not brilliant, not even clear; but it spoke of
+approaching daybreak. By and by the path would be more plainly
+visible.
+
+There was great excitement at the Friary on the next day. They had
+found it hard to get rid of Dick the previous night; but Sir Harry,
+who read his aunt's tired face rightly, had carried him off almost by
+sheer force, after a lengthy leave-taking with Nan in the passage.
+
+It was only Mrs. Challoner who was tired. Poor woman! she was fairly
+worn out by the violence of her conflicting feeling,--by sympathy with
+Nan in her happiness, with pleasure in Dick's demonstrative joy, and
+sorrow at the thought of losing her child. The girl herself was far
+too much excited for sleep.
+
+She and Phillis did all the packing for the next day, and it was not
+until Dulce sleepily warned them of the lateness of the hour that they
+consented to separate; and then Nan sat by the parlor fire a long time
+alone, enjoying the luxury of undisturbed meditation.
+
+But the next morning, just as they had gone into the work-room,--not
+to settle to any business,--that was impossible under the present
+exciting circumstances,--but just to fold up and despatch a gown that
+had been finished for Mrs. Squails, while Dulce put the
+finishing-touches to Mrs. Cheyne's tweed dress, Nan announced in a
+glad voice that their cousin and Dick were at the gate; "and I am so
+thankful we packed last night," she continued, "for Dick will not let
+me have a free moment until we start."
+
+"You should keep him in better order," observed Phillis, tersely: "if
+you give him his own way so much, you will not have a will of your own
+when you are married: will she, mother?" Mrs. Challoner smiled a
+little feebly in answer to this: she could not remember the time when
+she had had a will of her own.
+
+Nan went out shyly to meet them; but she could not understand her
+reception at all. Dick's grasp of her hand was sufficiently eloquent,
+but he said nothing; and Nan thought he was trying not to laugh, for
+there was a gleam of fun in his eyes, though he endeavored to look
+solemn. Sir Harry's face, too, wore an expression of portentous
+gravity.
+
+"Are you all in the work-room, Nan?" he asked, in a tone as though
+they were assembled at a funeral.
+
+"Yes; mother and all," answered Nan, brightly. "What is the matter
+with you both? You look dreadfully solemn."
+
+"Because we have a little business before us," returned Sir Harry,
+wrinkling his brows and frowning at Dick. "Come, Mayne, if you are
+ready."
+
+"Wait a minute, Nan. I will speak to you afterwards," observed that
+young gentleman, divesting himself of his gray overcoat; and Nan, very
+much puzzled, preceded them into the room.
+
+"How do you do, Aunt Catherine? Good-morning, girls," nodded Sir
+Harry; and then he looked at Dick. And what were they both doing? Were
+they mad? They must have taken leave of their senses; for Dick had
+raised his foot gently,--very gently,--and Mrs. Squails's red merino
+gown lay in the passage. At the same moment, Sir Harry's huge hand had
+closed over the tweed, and, by a dexterous thrust, had flung it as far
+as the kitchen. And now Dick was bundling out the sewing-machine.
+
+"Dick! oh, Dick!" in an alarmed voice from Dulce. And Phillis flew to
+the great carved wardrobe, that Sir Harry was ransacking; while Nan
+vainly strove to rescue the fashion-books that Dick was now flinging
+into the fender.
+
+"Oh, you great Goth! You stupid, ridiculous Harry!" observed Phillis,
+scornfully, while the rolls of silk and satin and yards of trimming
+were tossed lightly into a heap of _debris_.
+
+Laddie was growling and choking over the buttons. Dorothy afterwards
+carried away a whole shovelful of pins and hooks and eyes.
+
+Nan sat down by her mother and folded her hands on her lap. When men
+were masterful, it was time for maidens to sit still. Dulce really
+looked frightened; but Phillis presently broke into a laugh.
+
+"This is a parable of nature," she said. "Mammie, does your head ache?
+Would you like to go into the next room?"
+
+"There, we have about done!" observed Sir Harry. "The place is pretty
+well clear: isn't it, Mayne?" And, as Dick nodded a cheerful assent,
+he shut the door of the wardrobe, locked it, and, with much solemnity,
+put the key in his pocket. "Now for my parable," he said. "Aunt
+Catherine, you will excuse a bit of a spree, but one must take the
+high hand with these girls. I have bundled out the whole lot of
+trumpery; but, as head of this family, I am not going to stand any
+more of this nonsense."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" put in Phillis. "I hope Mrs. Squails will take her
+creased gown! Dulce, the sewing-machine is right on the top of it,--a
+most improving process, certainly."
+
+"Now, Phillis, you will just shut up with your nonsense! As head of
+the family, I am not going to stand any more of this sort of thing."
+
+"What sort of thing?" asked Mrs. Challoner, timidly. "My dears, I
+thought it was only fun; but I do believe your cousin is in earnest."
+
+"I am quite in earnest, Aunt Catherine," returned Sir Harry, sitting
+down beside her, and taking her hand. "I hope our bit of larking has
+not been too much for you; but that fellow vowed it would be a good
+joke." Here Dick's eyes twinkled. "If Mrs. Squails's gown is spoiled,
+I will buy her another; but on your peril, girls, if you put a stitch
+in any but your own from this day forward!"
+
+"Please your honor, kindly," whined Phillis, dropping a courtesy, "and
+what will your honor have us do?"
+
+"Do!" and then he broke into a laugh. "Oh, I will tell you that
+presently. All I know is, Nan is engaged to my friend Mayne here; and
+I have promised his father, on my word as a gentleman and head of this
+family, that this dressmaking humbug shall be given up."
+
+"You had no right to give such a promise," returned Phillis, offended
+at this; but Nan's hand stole into Dick's. She understood now.
+
+"But, Harry, my dear," asked Mrs. Challoner, "what would you have them
+do?"
+
+"Oh, play tennis,--dance,--flirt, if they like! How do young ladies
+generally occupy their time? Don't let us talk about such petty
+details as this. I want to tell you about my new house. You all know
+Gilsbank? Well, it is 'Challoner Place' now."
+
+"You have bought it, Harry?"
+
+"Yes; I have bought it," he returned, coolly. "And what is more, I
+hope to settle down there in another month's time. How soon do you
+think you will be ready to move, Aunt Catherine?"
+
+"My dear!" in a voice of mild astonishment. But Dulce clapped her
+hands: she thought she guessed his meaning. "Are we to live with you,
+Harry? Do you really mean to take us with you?"
+
+"Of course I shall take you with me; but not to Challoner Place. That
+would be rather close quarters; and--and--I may make different
+arrangements," rather sheepishly. "Aunt Catherine, Glen Cottage will
+be all ready for you and the girls. I have settled about the
+furniture; and Mrs. Mayne will have fires lighted whenever you like to
+come down. Why, aunt,--dear Aunt Catherine," as he felt her thin hand
+tremble in his, and the tears started to her eyes, "did you not tell
+me how much you loved your old home? And do you think, when you have
+no son to take care of you, that I should ever let you be far from
+me?"
+
+"Confound you!" growled Dick. "Is not a son-in-law as good as a son
+any day."
+
+But no one heard this but Nan.
+
+Mrs. Challoner was weeping for joy, and Dulce was keeping her company;
+but Phillis walked up to her cousin with a shamefaced look:
+
+"I am sorry I called you a Goth, Harry. I ought to have remembered
+Alcides. You are as good as gold. You are a dear generous fellow. And
+I love you for it; and so do Nan and Dulce. And I was not a bit cross,
+really; but you did look such a great goose, turning out that
+wardrobe." But, though she laughed at the remembrance, the tears were
+in Phillis's eyes.
+
+Dick was nobody after this: not that he minded that. How could they
+help crowding round this "big hero" of theirs who had performed such
+wonders?
+
+Gilsbank turned into Challoner Place; Glen Cottage, with its
+conservatory and brand-new furniture, theirs again,--their own,--their
+very own (for Sir Harry intended to buy that too as soon as possible);
+Nan engaged to her dearest Dick, and all the neighborhood prepared to
+welcome them back!
+
+"If you please, Miss Phillis, Mrs. Squails desires her compliments,
+and she is waiting for her dress."
+
+We forbare to repeat Sir Harry's answer. Nevertheless, with Dick's
+help, the unfortunate gown was extricated, and privately ironed by
+Dorothy.
+
+"That is a good morning's work of yours," observed Phillis, quietly
+looking down at the heap at her feet. "Dorothy, it seems Sir Harry is
+master here. If any more orders come for us, you may as well say, 'The
+Misses Challoner have given up business.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII.
+
+"IT WAS SO GOOD OF YOU TO ASK ME HERE."
+
+
+Mrs. Challoner heaved a gentle little sigh when in the afternoon the
+fly carried off Nan and Dick to the station: it brought to her mind
+another day that would come far too soon. Phillis spoke out this
+thought boldly as she ran back to the cottage.
+
+"I wanted to throw an old shoe for luck, mammie," she said, laughing,
+"only I knew Nan would be so dreadfully shocked. How happy they
+looked! And Dick was making such a fuss over her, bringing out his
+plaid to wrap her in. Certainly he is much improved, and looks five
+years older."
+
+Perhaps Dick shared Mrs. Challoner's thought too, for an expression of
+deep gravity crossed his face as he sat down by Nan,--a look that was
+tender, and yet wistful, as he took her hand.
+
+"Oh, Nan! it does seem so nice to have you all to myself for a
+little,--just you and I, alone, and all the rest of the world outside
+somewhere! Do you know it is possible to be almost too happy!" And
+Dick sighed from the very fulness of content.
+
+Nan gave a merry little laugh at this.
+
+"Oh, no: to me it seems only natural to be happy. When things were at
+their worst I knew that they would come right some day; and I could
+not be quite miserable, even then. It was hard, of course; but when
+one is young, one ought not to mind a little waiting. And we have not
+waited long, have we, dear?" But to this Dick demurred.
+
+"It was the longest term I ever passed," he returned, seriously. "When
+a fellow is in that sort of unsettled state, one cannot measure time
+in the ordinary way. Well, the ordeal is over, thank heaven!" And then
+he paused, and continued, a little thoughtfully: "What I have to do
+now is to work hard and do my best to deserve you. I shall never be
+worthy of you, Nan; I know that."
+
+"I think you quite worthy of me," she answered, softly, and now there
+were tears in her eyes.
+
+"Oh, no; no fellow could be that," he replied, decidedly. "I am well
+enough in my way, and compared with other men I am not so bad,"
+continued Dick, who had a sufficiently good opinion of his own merits,
+in spite of the humility of his speech; "but as to coming up to you,
+Nan, by a long way, why, the thing is impossible! But I tell you this,
+it helps a fellow to keep right and steady when he believes in the
+goodness of the girl belonging to him."
+
+"You must not make me vain," she half whispered, and her lips trembled
+a little at his praise. But he disregarded this remonstrance, and went
+on:
+
+"You have kept me right all my life. How could I ever do a mean or a
+shabby action to make you ashamed of me? When I was tempted once or
+twice,--for idle young fellows will be tempted,--I used to say to
+myself, No, Nan would not approve if she knew it. And I held tight to
+this thought, and I am glad now that I can look in your dear face and
+tell you this. It makes me feel so happy." And indeed Dick's face was
+radiant.
+
+They were almost sorry when the journey was over; they had so much to
+say to each other. The wintry landscape was growing gray and
+indistinct as they reached their destination, and, though Nan peered
+anxiously into the darkness for a glimpse of each well-remembered
+spot, she could only just discern the dim outline of Glen Cottage
+before the carriage turned in at the gates of Longmead.
+
+Mr. Mayne had determined to pay his intended daughter-in-law all
+becoming honors, and as soon as the carriage wheels were heard he had
+the hall door thrown back to show the bright, welcoming light, and he
+himself descended the flight of steps to the terrace. "Just as though
+I were a royal personage," laughed Nan. But she was a little nattered
+by the compliment.
+
+Most girls would have felt the awkwardness of the situation, but not
+Nan. The moment Dick assisted her out of the carriage she walked up to
+his father, and put up her face to be kissed in the most natural way.
+"It was so good of you to ask me here; and I am so glad to come," she
+said, simply.
+
+"There, there! run in out of the cold," was all his answer; and he
+patted her hand a little awkwardly. But, though his voice had its
+usual gruffness, his manner was otherwise kind. "How are you, Dick? I
+hope Roper did not keep you waiting at the station, for you are a
+quarter of an hour behind your time." And then he took his son's arm
+and walked up the steps again.
+
+Nan, meanwhile, had run through the hall and into the warm,
+softly-lighted drawing-room, and there she soon found herself in Mrs.
+Mayne's motherly arms. When the gentlemen came in they interrupted
+quite a little scene, for Mrs. Mayne was actually crying over the
+girl, and Nan was kissing her.
+
+"Don't you think you had better stop that sort of thing, Bessie,"
+observed her husband, drily, "and get Nan a cup of tea? You would like
+some tea, my dear, would you not?" in a more gracious voice.
+
+Of course Nan said she would like some, just to show her appreciation
+of his thoughtfulness; and then Dick said he should like some too, and
+his father quizzed him a little as he rang the bell. And as Mrs. Mayne
+obediently dried her eyes at her husband's behest, they were soon very
+happy and comfortable. When Nan's cup was empty, Dick darted to take
+it, that it might be replenished; but his father was before him.
+
+All that evening Mr. Mayne waited on Nan, quite ignoring his son's
+claims. He had a special brand of champagne served that Nan had once
+said she liked; and he reminded her of this, and pressed her to
+partake of it.
+
+"This is to your health, my dear," he said, lifting his glass of port
+to his lips when the servants had withdrawn; "and to yours too, Dick."
+And then Nan blushed very becomingly, and Dick thanked him a little
+gravely.
+
+"I do think the old boy has fallen in love with you himself, for he
+has not let me come near you all the evening," whispered Dick later on
+that night, pretending to grumble, but in reality looking very happy.
+
+"He has been so good to me," returned the girl; and she repeated this
+for Mrs. Mayne's benefit, when at last the two women found themselves
+free to indulge in a little talk. Nan had coaxed her friend to sit
+beside her fire for a few minutes, and then she had knelt down beside
+her, wrapping her arms round her in the most affectionate way.
+
+"Dear, dear Mrs. Mayne, how nice all this is! and how good Mr. Mayne
+has been to me all this evening!"
+
+"My Richard never does things by halves," returned Mrs. Mayne,
+proudly. "People cannot always understand him, because his manner is a
+little rough sometimes; but I know, and none better, his real goodness
+of heart. Why, he is so pleased with himself and you and Dick this
+evening that he hardly knows how to contain himself; but he is a
+little awkward in showing it."
+
+"Oh, no; I did not think him awkward at all."
+
+"I must say you behaved beautifully, Nan, never seeming as though you
+remembered that there had been anything amiss, but just taking
+everything as he meant it. Of course I knew how you would act: I was
+not afraid that I should be disappointed."
+
+"Of course I could not do otherwise."
+
+"And Dick, too, behaved so well, keeping in the background just to
+give his father full freedom. I must say I was pleased with him, too,
+for most young men are so thoughtless; but then his behavior to his
+father has been perfect throughout."
+
+"I knew it would be," whispered Nan.
+
+"I am sure it made my heart ache to see him. Sometimes he would come
+in whistling and pretending to be his old self, so light-hearted and
+cheerful; and all the time he was fretting himself to death, as I told
+Richard. Richard was terribly trying sometimes,--you know his
+way,--but the boy bore it so well. It was not till the last, when they
+had that walk, and Dick was goaded into positive anger, that he ever
+lost his temper in the least. I will say this, Nan, that though my
+Dick may not be much to look at, he has the sweetest temper and the
+kindest heart." And so the simple woman ran on, and Nan listened, well
+pleased.
+
+When Mr. Mayne came up to his dressing-room that evening, his wife
+stole in after him, and laid her hands on his shoulder as he stood
+thoughtfully contemplating the fire.
+
+"Well, Richard, won't you own she is lovely now?"
+
+"Humph! yes; I suppose people would call her pretty," he returned, in
+his grudging way. "But I tell you what, Bessie," suddenly kindling
+into animation, "she is better than handsome; she is out and out good,
+and she will make a man of Dick."
+
+"God bless him, and her too!" whispered the mother, as she withdrew
+softly, but not before she caught the sound of an "Amen" uttered
+distinctly in her husband's voice.
+
+Nan made Dick take her to all their old haunts the next morning; but
+first of all they went to Glen Cottage. Nan ran through all the rooms
+with almost a child's glee: nothing could exceed her delight when Dick
+showed her the drawing-room, with the new conservatory opening out of
+it.
+
+"It always was a pretty room," she said, glancing round her; "but the
+conservatory and the new furniture have quite transformed it. How
+charmed mother and the girls will be! The whole house looks better
+than when we were in it."
+
+"Nonsense!" returned Dick, stoutly. "There never was a house to
+compare with it. I always loved it; and so did you, Nan. What a summer
+we shall have here, when I am reading up for honors in the long
+vacation! I mean to work pretty hard; for when a fellow has such an
+object as that----" And then he looked at Nan meaningly; but she was
+not to be beguiled into that subject.
+
+They were so happy, and so young, that they could afford to wait a
+little; and she did not wish Dick to speak yet of that day that was
+looming in the distance.
+
+She could only be sure of one summer at Glen Cottage; but what a time
+they would have! She stood for a long while looking out on the lawn
+and calling up possible visions of summer afternoons. The
+tennis-ground was marked out already in her imagination; the tea-table
+in its old place under the trees; there was her mother knitting in her
+favorite wicker-chair; there were Dulce and Phillis, surrounded by
+their friends
+
+"Come away, Nan. Are you moon-struck, or dreaming?" questioned Dick,
+drawing her arm through his. "Do you remember what we have to do
+before luncheon? And Vigo looks so impatient for his run." But even
+Dick paused for a moment in the veranda to show Nan the rose she had
+picked for him just there, and which still lay in his pocket-book.
+
+All her old friends crowded round Nan to welcome her back; and great
+were the rejoicings when they heard that Glen Cottage was to be in the
+Challoners' possession again. Carrie Paine and Adelaide Sartoris
+called first. Carrie embraced Nan with tearful effusion: she was an
+honest, warm-hearted creature. But Adelaide looked at her a little
+curiously.
+
+"Oh, my dear, the scandal that has been talked about you all!" she
+said, in a mysterious tone. "Carrie and I would not believe it: would
+we, Car? We told people to hold their tongues, and not talk such
+nonsense."
+
+"Never mind that now, Addie," returned Nan, cheerfully. She felt she
+must be careful of what she said, for Dick's sake. "We have had our
+worries, and have worked as better people have before us; but now it
+is all over."
+
+"But is it true that your cousin, Sir Henry Challoner, has bought
+Gilsbank?" broke in Carrie. "Tell us about him, dear. Addie thought
+she saw him once. Is he a tall man, with red hair?"
+
+"Very red hair," responded Nan, laughing.
+
+"Then I did see him," replied Miss Sartoris, decidedly. "He is quite a
+giant, Nan; but he looks very good-natured."
+
+Miss Sartoris was just engaged to a dapper little colonel in the
+Hussars, so she could afford to be quizzical on the subject of Sir
+Harry's inches; but Carrie, who was at present unattached, was a
+little curious about the future master of Gilsbank.
+
+After this, Nan called at Fitzroy Lodge, and Dick went with her. Lady
+Fitzroy, who was looking very pretty and delicate, welcomed Nan with
+the greatest kindness. When Lord Fitzroy came in with the rest of the
+gentlemen from hunting, he questioned Nan very closely about their new
+neighbor, Sir Henry Challoner, and made a great many kind inquiries
+after his favorite, Miss Phillis.
+
+"So we are to have you all back, eh," he queried, pleasantly. "Well, I
+call that good news. I am bound that Evelyn is as pleased to hear it
+as I am."
+
+"I am very much pleased," returned Lady Fitzroy graciously. "And you
+must tell your mother so, with my love. Percival, will you ring for
+some more hot water, please? I shall not be long: but I am going to
+take Miss Challoner upstairs to see our boy."
+
+Nan knew that a great privilege was being conferred on her as she
+followed Lady Fitzroy into the grand nursery, where the tiny heir lay
+in his bassinette.
+
+"Is he not just like Fitzroy?" exclaimed the proud young mother, as
+they stood looking down on the red crumpled features of the new-comer.
+"Nurse says she has never seen such a striking likeness."
+
+"He is a darling!" exclaimed Nan, who was, like other girls, a devout
+baby-worshipper; and then they discoursed very eloquently on his
+infantile beauties.
+
+It was after this that Lady Fitzroy congratulated Nan on her
+engagement, and kissed her in quite a sisterly way.
+
+"Fitzroy and I do not think him half good enough for you," she said,
+very prettily. "But no one who knows Mr. Mayne can fail to like him,
+he is so thoroughly genuine and nice. Will the engagement be a long
+one, Miss Challoner?"
+
+"Not so very long," Nan returned, blushing. "Dick has to read for
+honors; but, when he has taken his degree, his father has promised to
+make things straight for us, while Dick reads for the bar."
+
+"He is to be a barrister, then?" asked Lady Fitzroy, in surprise. "You
+must not think me inquisitive, but I thought Mr. Mayne was so very
+well off."
+
+"So he is," replied Nan, smiling,--"quite rich, I believe; but Dick
+would not like an idle life, and during his father's lifetime he can
+only expect a moderate income."
+
+"You will live in London, then?"
+
+"Oh, yes; I suppose so;" was Nan's answer. "But we have not talked
+much about that yet. Dick must work hard for another year, and after
+that I believe things are to be settled." And then Lady Fitzroy kissed
+her again, and they went downstairs.
+
+Nan wrote home that she was _fêted_ like a queen, and that Dick
+grumbled sadly at having her so little to himself; but then Dick was
+much given to that sort of good-natured grumbling.
+
+The visit was necessarily a very brief one, as term-time was
+approaching, and Dick had to go up to Oxford. On the last morning he
+took Nan for a walk down to Sandy Lane. Vigo and the other dogs were
+with them, and at the point where the four roads met, Dick stopped and
+leaned his arms over a gate.
+
+"It will seem a long time to Easter, Nan," he said, rather
+lugubriously.
+
+"Oh, no," she replied brightly to this; "you will have my
+letters,--such long ones, Dick,--and you know Mr. Mayne has promised
+to bring Phillis and me down for a couple of days. We are to stay at
+the Randolph, and of course we shall have afternoon tea in your
+rooms."
+
+"Yes; I will ask Hamilton and some of the other fellows to meet you. I
+want all my friends to see you, Nan." And as Dick thought of the glory
+of this introduction, and of the envy of Hamilton and the other
+fellows, his brow cleared and his old spirits returned.
+
+"I shall think of nothing but my work and those letters, Nan," were
+his last words. "I am determined that next summer shall see you my
+wife." His voice dropped over the last word almost shyly; but Nan saw
+a great brightness come into his eyes.
+
+"You must not work too hard," was all her answer to this, as she moved
+gently away from him. But her heart beat a little faster at his words.
+No; she would only have another summer at Glen Cottage. She knew that,
+and then the new life would lie before them, which she and Dick were
+to live together.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII.
+
+MRS. SPARSIT'S POODLE.
+
+
+While Nan was being _fêted_ and petted at Longmead, Mattie's visit was
+dragging heavily to its close. Since the evening of the tea-party
+things had been more unsatisfactory than ever.
+
+Archie and Grace were a good deal out. Grace was perpetually at the
+Friary, and Archie had resumed his old habit of dropping in there for
+a morning or evening chat. Sir Harry came almost daily, and often
+spent his disengaged hours with them; but Mattie never saw him for a
+moment alone. Grace was always in the room, and his conversation was
+chiefly addressed to her. When Mattie dropped sadly out of the talk,
+or sat silent in her corner, he did not in his old kind fashion try to
+include her in the conversation: indeed, he rarely noticed her, except
+in his brief leave-taking. It hurt Mattie inexpressibly to be thus
+ignored by her old friend, for from the first his cordiality had had a
+sunshiny influence over her,--he had been so good to her, so
+thoughtful for her comfort, before Grace came; but now he seemed to
+forget sometimes that such a person as Mattie even existed. Was it
+because Grace's fair, serious face had bewitched him, or was there
+anything on his mind? for more than once Mattie thought he seemed
+absent and ill at ease.
+
+Mattie could not understand it at all. She was not a very acute little
+person, neither was she over-sensitive by nature, but this sudden
+coldness on Sir Harry's part was wounding and perplexing in the
+extreme. Had she done anything to offend him? Mattie wondered, or was
+he simply bored by her as most people were?
+
+Once Archie had snubbed her very severely in his presence; something
+had put him out, and he had spoken to Mattie as though no one were
+present but their two selves. It was Grace who called him so gently to
+order, and made him feel ashamed of himself. Sir Harry did not even
+seem to notice it: he had a paper in his hand, and he went on reading
+it. But as Mattie left the room she heard him speaking to Grace in
+his usual way about some political question or other.
+
+Mattie cried bitterly in her room that day. Somehow, she had never
+taken Archie's snubbing so much to heart before. How could he speak to
+her like that, she thought? What would Sir Harry think of her, and of
+him too? Archie's conscience pricked him when he saw the traces of
+tears on Mattie's face that afternoon, and he was very kind to her all
+the remainder of the day; but he did not apologize for his words: no
+one ever did apologize to Mattie. But to his surprise, and Grace's
+too, Mattie's sad face did not clear.
+
+It was her last afternoon but one at the vicarage, and Mattie was
+sitting alone. All the morning she and Grace had been packing
+together, for Grace, in her sensible way, had begged her sister not to
+leave things for the last day. It would tire her for her journey, she
+said; and the Challoners were coming to spend Mattie's last evening
+with her at the vicarage; and there were the Middletons probably
+coming for an afternoon visit, and so Mattie had better keep herself
+free for her friends. Mattie had assented to this, and she had been
+very grateful to Grace for all the help she had given her. Her boxes
+were ready for cording, and her little parting gifts for the servants
+laid ready labelled in her drawers, and nothing remained for her busy
+hands to do.
+
+It was a cold, cheerless afternoon; a cutting north wind and a gray
+cloudy sky made the fireside all the more tempting by comparison; but
+Mattie knew there was one duty unfulfilled that she ought to perform.
+She had promised to call and say good-bye to an old acquaintance of
+hers who lived at Rock Building.
+
+Mrs. Chamberlain was not a favorite with most people: she was an
+invalid of somewhat uncertain temper, and most of her friends felt her
+society an infliction on their patience. Mattie, who was very
+good-natured, had often done kindly little offices for her, sitting
+with her for an hour or two at a time, and teaching her some new
+stitch, to beguile her tedious and often painful days.
+
+Mrs. Chamberlain would feel herself aggrieved if Mattie disappointed
+her. And she never had stayed at home for the weather; only she was
+lazy,--tired, perhaps, from her packing,--and reluctant to move.
+
+Sir Harry was in the study, she knew: she had heard his voice some
+time ago. He often turned in there of his own accord or perhaps Archie
+had waylaid him and brought him in, for they were excellent friends
+now; Grace was there, of course, but Mattie had hesitated to join
+them: none of them wanted her, she said bitterly to herself.
+
+A dim hope that Grace might come in search of her, or that even Sir
+Henry might saunter in by and by and ask for a cup of tea in his old
+way, had kept Mattie in her place; but now it was getting a little
+late, and perhaps after all Grace would ring, and have the tea in
+there, as she had done once before: and it was no use waiting. And so,
+when Mattie reached this point, she hurried upstairs and put on her
+hat and thick jacket, and then, after a moment's hesitation, opened
+the study door.
+
+It was just the scene she pictured. Sir Harry was in the big chair in
+front of the blazing fire, and Grace in her low wicker seat, facing
+him, with a Chinese screen in her hand. Archie was standing on the
+rug, with his elbow against the narrow wooden mantelpiece, and all
+three were talking merrily. Sir Harry stopped in the middle of a
+laugh, as Mattie entered, and shook hands with her a little gravely.
+
+"How comfortable you all look!" faltered Mattie. The words came in
+spite of her efforts not to say them.
+
+"Then come and join us," returned Archie, with unusual affability.
+"Grace was just wondering what you were doing."
+
+"I was in the drawing-room alone. No, I cannot sit down, Archie, thank
+you. I am just going to bid old Mrs. Chamberlain good-bye: she is
+expecting me, and I must not disappoint her."
+
+"Oh, but it is not fit for you," remonstrated Grace. "Sir Harry says
+the wind is piercing. Do put off your visit until to-morrow, Mattie,
+and we will go together."
+
+"Fie, Miss Grace! never put off until to-morrow what can be done
+to-day," observed Sir Harry, in his joking voice. "What is it the
+copy-books say?--is it procrastination or money that is the root of
+all evil?"
+
+"Sir Harry is quite right, and I must go," stammered Mattie, made
+quite desperate by this joke; he knew how the wind was sweeping over
+the gray sea, and yet he had not said a word about her remaining. Poor
+Mattie! a miserable choking feeling came into her throat, as she
+closed the door on another laugh and struggled along in the teeth of
+the wind. Another time she would not have minded it, for she was hardy
+by nature; but now the cold seemed to freeze her very heart; she
+looked quite blue and pinched when she entered Mrs. Chamberlain's
+drawing-room. It seemed to Mattie as though hours had passed before
+she brought her visit to a close, and yet she had been sitting there
+only three quarters of an hour before she took her leave. The old lady
+was very gracious this afternoon; she pressed Mattie again and again
+to wait a little until Sallie brought up the tea and a nice hot cake
+she was baking. But Mattie steadily refused even these tempting
+delicacies: she was not cold any longer, she said; but it was growing
+late, or the afternoon was darker than usual. And then she wished her
+old friend good-bye,--oh, good-bye for such a long time, Mattie
+thought,--and sallied forth bravely into the wind gain.
+
+It had lulled a little, but the scene before her was very desolate;
+just the gray expanse of sea, with the white line of surge breaking
+into the shore; and here and there a wave tossing up its foamy head
+in the distance. The air seemed full of that continuous low rolling
+and splashing of breakers on the beach: a sea-gull was flying inland;
+the Parade looked white and wind-bleached,--not a creature in sight
+but a coast-guard on duty, moving backwards and forwards in a rather
+forlorn manner, except----Here Mattie turned her head quickly: yes, a
+little beyond there was a man in a rough pilot's coat, looking out
+seaward,--a nautical man, Mattie thought, by the way he stood, as
+though summer gales were blowing about his ears.
+
+Mattie passed quite close to him, for the wind drifted her a little as
+she did so. He turned coolly round and confronted her.
+
+"Sir Harry! Oh, I did not know you in the least," faltered Mattie,
+standing still in her surprise.
+
+"I dare say not," he replied, quietly: "you have never seen me in this
+costume before, and I had my back turned towards you. I saw you
+coming, though, walking as unsteadily as a duck in a storm. What a
+time you have been, Miss Mattie! You ladies are so fond of a gossip."
+
+"Were you waiting for me?" she asked, rather breathlessly, and then
+colored painfully at her question. How absurd! Of course he was not
+waiting for her; his hotel was just opposite, and he was probably
+taking a constitutional before his dinner. "Mrs. Chamberlain pressed
+me to take tea with her," she went on, by way of saying something,
+"but I told her I would rather go home."
+
+"Miss Grace was just ringing for tea when I left," he returned. "No
+wonder you look cold or like a starved robin, Miss Mattie. Why are you
+walking so fast? there is no hurry, is there? I think you owe me some
+amends for keeping me standing for an hour in this bitter wind. There!
+why don't you take my arm and hold on, or you will be blown away?"
+
+Mattie always did as she was bidden, and Sir Harry's tone was a little
+peremptory. He had been waiting for her, then; he had not quite
+forgotten her. Mattie began to feel a little less chilled and numb. If
+he would only say a kind word to her, she thought, she could go away
+more happily.
+
+"I am thinking about that rejected cup of tea," he said, suddenly,
+when they had walked for a moment in silence: "it will be all cleared
+away at the vicarage, and you do look so cold, Miss Mattie."
+
+"Oh, no, not very," she corrected.
+
+"But I say that you do," he persisted, in quite a determined manner:
+"you are cold, and tired, and miserable,--there!"
+
+"I--I am not particularly miserable," but there were tears in Mattie's
+voice, as she uttered this little fib. "I don't quite like going away
+and saying good-bye to people."
+
+"Won't your people be kind to you?" Then changing his tone, "I tell
+you what, Miss Mattie, no one is in a hurry for you at home, and I
+don't see why we should not enjoy ourselves. You remember my old
+friend Mrs. Sparsit, who lives up at Rose Cottage,--you know I saved
+her poodle from drowning one rough day, when some boys got hold of it:
+well, Mrs. Sparsit and I are first-rate friends, and I will ask her to
+give us some tea."
+
+"Oh, no," faltered Mattie, quite shocked at this; for what would Grace
+say? "I only know Mrs. Sparsit a very little."
+
+"What does that matter?" returned Sir Harry, obstinately: "I am always
+dropping in myself for a chat. Now, it is no use your making any
+objection, Miss Mattie, for I have got a lot to say to you, and I
+don't mean to part with you yet. They will only think you are still at
+Rock Building, and I suppose you are old enough to act without Miss
+Grace's advice sometimes."
+
+Mattie hung her head without replying to this. What a feeble, helpless
+sort of creature he must think her! his voice seemed to express a
+good-humored sort of contempt. Well, he was right; she was old enough
+to do as she pleased, and she would like very much to go with him to
+Mrs. Sparsit's. It was rather a reckless proceeding, perhaps; but
+Mattie was too down and miserable to argue it out, so she walked
+beside Sir Harry in a perfectly unresisting manner. Perhaps this was
+the last time she would enjoy his company for a long time: she must
+make the most of it.
+
+"We need not walk quite so fast," he said, checking her, for she was
+hurrying again. "Look here, Miss Mattie, I want to ask you a queer
+sort of question, if only this confounded wind will let me make myself
+heard. Please don't laugh; I don't want to be laughed at, for I am
+quite in earnest. But have you any special objection to red hair?--I
+mean, do you particularly dislike it?"
+
+Mattie opened her eyes rather widely at this. "No, I rather like it,"
+she returned, without a moment's hesitation, and quite in the dark as
+to his possible meaning.
+
+"Oh, that is all right," he returned, cheerfully. "You won't believe
+it, Miss Mattie, but, though I am such a great big fellow, I am as
+bashful as anything; and I have always had a fancy that no one would
+have me because of my red hair."
+
+"What an idea!" observed Mattie, with a little laugh, for she thought
+this so droll, and had not the dimmest idea of his real purpose in
+asking her such a question.
+
+"Don't laugh, please," he remonstrated, "for I am quite serious; I
+never was more serious in my life; for this sort of thing is so
+awkward for a fellow. Then, Miss Mattie, you won't say 'No' to me?"
+
+Mattie stared; but Sir Harry's face, red and embarrassed as it was,
+gave her no clue to his meaning.
+
+"I don't think you understand me," he said, a little impatiently; "and
+yet I am sure I am putting it very plainly. You don't object to me,
+do you, Miss Mattie? I am sure I will do my best to make you happy.
+Gilsbank is a pretty place, and we shall have Aunt Catherine and the
+girls near us. We shall all be as merry as larks, if you will only
+promise to marry me, for I have liked you from the first; I have
+indeed, Miss Mattie."
+
+Sir Harry was a gentleman, in spite of his rough ways. He understood
+in a moment, when Mattie's answer to this was a very feeble clutch at
+his arm, as though her strength were deserting her. What with the
+sudden surprise of these words, and the force of the wind, the poor
+little woman felt herself reeling.
+
+"Stand here for a moment, and I will shelter you from the wind. No,
+don't speak; just hold on, and keep quiet: there is no hurry. No one
+shall scold you, if I can help it. I am afraid"--speaking as gently as
+to a child--"that I have been a little rough and sudden with you. Do
+you feel faint? I never saw you look so pale. What a thoughtless brute
+I have been!"
+
+"No,--oh, no," panted Mattie; "only I am so giddy, and--so happy." The
+last words were half whispered, but he caught them. "Are you sure you
+really mean this, Sir Harry?"
+
+"As sure as that the wind blows," he returned, cheerfully. "Well,
+that's settled. You and I are to be in the same boat for good and
+all,--eh, Miss Mattie? Now let us walk on; and I won't say another
+word until we reach Mrs. Sparsit's."
+
+Perhaps he had taken this resolution because he saw that Mattie found
+speech impossible. Her very footsteps tottered as she struggled
+against the opposing wind. Only the arm on which she leaned seemed to
+give her strength; and yet Mattie no longer shivered in the cutting
+blast. She was no longer cold, and numb, and desolate. Something
+wonderful and incredible and altogether unreal had befallen
+her,--something that had turned her dizzy with happiness, and which
+she could not in the least believe. All she knew was that he had told
+her that no one should scold her now.
+
+"Here we are!" exclaimed Sir Harry, stopping at a trim little cottage,
+with a side-view of the sea; "and, by Jove, there is the poodle
+himself at the window. How do you do, Mrs. Sparsit?" as a pleasant,
+wrinkled dame appeared on the threshold. "You know Miss Drummond, I
+believe? though not as well as you know me. How is Popples? Oh, there
+you are, old fellow,--ready to give me your paw, as usual! Look at
+him, Miss Mattie! Now, Mrs. Sparsit," in a coaxing voice, "this lady
+is dreadfully tired; and I know your kettle is boiling----" but here
+Mrs. Sparsit interrupted him:
+
+"Oh, yes, indeed, Sir Harry; and you shall have some tea directly.
+Dear me, Miss Drummond, you do look poorly, to be sure! Let me stir
+the fire a little, and draw out the couch. Bettie has gone out to see
+her sick mother, Sir Harry; but if you don't mind my leaving you a
+minute, while I just brew the tea----" And without waiting for his
+answer, the worthy creature bustled off to her tiny kitchen, leaving
+Popples to entertain her guests.
+
+Sir Harry closed the door, and then he helped Mattie to divest herself
+of her warm jacket, and placed her in a snug corner of the
+old-fashioned couch.
+
+"You will be all right directly," he said, as he sat down beside her.
+"The wind was too strong; and I was a little sudden: wasn't I,
+Mattie?" And now the color began to come into Mattie's face.
+
+Sir Harry found plenty to tell her as Mrs. Sparsit brewed the tea and
+prepared the hot buttered cakes.
+
+Mattie shed tears of pure happiness when she heard from his own lips
+how good and unselfish and amiable he thought her, and how he had
+liked her from the first in a sort of way,--"not quite the right way,
+you know," explained Sir Harry, candidly; "but every one was so hard
+on you, and you bore it so well, and were such a good little woman,
+that I quite longed to stand your friend; and we were friends,--were
+we not, Mattie? And then somehow it came to me what a nice little wife
+you would make; and so----" but here Mattie timidly interrupted him:
+
+"But Grace,--I thought you liked Grace best!"
+
+Sir Harry laughed outright at this; but he had the grace to look
+ashamed of himself:
+
+"So I did like her very much; but I was only trying you, Mattie. I was
+not sure how much you liked me; but you seemed such a miserable little
+Cinderella among them all that I could hardly keep it up. If they snub
+you now, they will have to answer to me." And at this moment Mrs.
+Sparsit entered with the tea-tray.
+
+Dinner was nearly over at the vicarage when Mattie's step was heard in
+the hall. Archie, who was the soul of punctuality, frowned a little
+when the sound reached his ear.
+
+"This is too bad of Mattie," he said, rather fretfully. "She has no
+right to put us to such inconvenience. I suppose we must have the fish
+up again?"
+
+"Miss Drummond desires that you will go on with your dinner, sir,"
+observed the maid, entering at that moment. "She has had a late tea,
+and will not require anything more."
+
+"Very strange!" fumed Archie; but he was a little pacified by the
+message. But Grace slightly elevated her eyebrows with an expression
+of surprise. Such independence was new in Mattie.
+
+The brother and sister had adjourned to the drawing-room, and Archie
+was about to ring for his coffee, before Mattie made her appearance.
+
+Grace uttered a little exclamation when she saw her sister:
+
+"My dear Mattie, we have no visitors coming in this evening! Why have
+you put on your best gown? You extravagant child!" for Mattie had
+come into the room rustling in her green silk dress, and her little
+dark face glowing from the wind. "She looked almost pretty," as Grace
+said afterwards; but at her sister's quizzical observation Mattie
+blushed and seemed confused.
+
+"It is no use saving it," she began. "Sir Harry is coming in by and
+by. And, oh, Archie! he told me to say it, but I don't know how to do
+it." And then, to Archie's intense surprise,--for she had never done
+such a thing in her life,--she suddenly threw her arms round his neck.
+"Oh, Archie! he says you are never to scold me again,--any of you,"
+she sobbed, "because I belong to him now. And he--Sir Harry, I
+mean--is so good to me; and I am so happy. And won't you wish me joy,
+both of you? And what--what will mother say?" finished Mattie, as
+though this were the climax of everything.
+
+"Good heavens, Mattie!" gasped Archie; but he did not shake her off:
+on the contrary, he kissed her very kindly. "Do you mean you are going
+to marry Sir Harry Challoner?"
+
+"He means to marry me," returned Mattie, smiling, in spite of her
+tears; and then Grace came forward, and took her in her arms.
+
+"I am so glad, dear Mattie," she whispered, soothingly. "Of course we
+none of us expected it; and we are all very much surprised. Oh, dear!
+how happy mother will be!"
+
+"I tell you what," exclaimed Archie, in great excitement, "I will take
+you down myself to Lowder Street, and see what she says. They will all
+be out of their senses with joy; and, upon my word, Mattie, I never
+was so pleased about anything in my life. He is a right-down good
+fellow, I am sure of that; and you are not such a bad little thing
+yourself, Mattie. There!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX.
+
+MATTIE IN A NEW CHARACTER.
+
+
+The family at Lowder Street were all gathered together when the
+travellers made their appearance. There was a general shout of delight
+when Archie's face peered in at them from the dusky hall over Mattie's
+shoulder. Mrs. Drummond's thin face flushed with the unexpected
+pleasure.
+
+"Oh, Archie! my dear boy, I never thought you would surprise us in
+this way!" she said, throwing down her work with tremulous hands. She
+kissed Mattie affectionately; but that dark glow of tenderness in her
+eyes was for Archie. In spite of her ordinary undemonstrativeness, she
+seldom spoke to him without that involuntary softening of her voice.
+However much she loved her other children, her maternal passion was
+reserved for her first-born son.
+
+"How naughty of you to steal a march on us in this manner!" she said,
+playfully. "We have only prepared a meat-tea for Mattie, because I
+knew she would not mind; but if you had telegraphed I would have had
+dinner ready for you, Archie."
+
+"Stuff! nonsense! why need he have telegraphed? I suppose what is good
+enough for Mattie and the rest of us is good enough for Archie!"
+
+Mr. Drummond spoke testily as he put down the paper. These hints about
+the late dinners always nettled him. His renunciation of them years
+ago had been a heavy piece of self-denial, for he was a man rather
+fond of creature comforts; he had done it for his children's sake; but
+it was more than flesh and blood could bear that this renounced luxury
+should be served for his son's benefit. Was he not as good as Archie,
+though he had not been to a University and become fellow of his
+college?
+
+"Father is quite right," returned Archie, cheerfully. "I would not
+telegraph, because I wanted to surprise you; and I knew you were such
+a good manager, mother, that you would have plenty of aired sheets
+ready for my bed. Of course what is good enough for Mattie is right
+for me. As we are both as hungry as hunters, we shall do justice to
+anything you have prepared."
+
+"There is only some cold meat and some ham and eggs," observed Mrs.
+Drummond, a little plaintively. She did not dare anger her husband
+further by proposing even a chop, for she knew how touchy he was about
+Archie's fastidiousness; but if she could have had her own way she
+would have killed the fatted calf for this dearest son. Nothing was
+too good for him in her eyes; and yet for the sake of tranquillity she
+dared not even hazard the question of a chop.
+
+"Cold meat,--that is just what I should like," replied Archie, with
+excellent _sang-froid_. He detested that stock-dish of the Lowder
+Street larder, ham and eggs. The eggs were dubious, he
+considered,--not actually new-laid, but a little suggestive of lime.
+"But there! you must not give me all your attention, mother," he
+continued. "I have brought Mattie home, you see, and you have never
+told her even how she looks."
+
+"She looks very well," replied Mrs. Drummond. In spite of her anxiety
+about Archie, she had been looking at her daughter more than once with
+puzzled eyes. There was something different about her, she thought. It
+was hardly like Mattie to come in so quietly among them all and take
+her place beside her father. Mattie seldom did anything without a
+fuss: it was her ordinary way to stand among them chattering as fast
+as her tongue would go, until some one reminded her that it was time
+for her to take off her hat and jacket or she would be late for tea.
+But to-night Mattie had hardly opened her lips, except to answer her
+father's questions about the journey. She had kissed her sisters very
+quietly, and had asked after Isabel, and had then proposed of her own
+accord to go upstairs.
+
+"Clara, go up with your sister. No, not Laura; you will all get
+chattering, and then we shall be kept waiting. Isabel is upstairs,
+Archie: she has come in to sit with us this evening, as Ellis has to
+go to a business dinner. He will call for her on his way."
+
+"I am very glad she is here," returned Archie, "for I have to go back
+by the early train to-morrow. Ah, there she is. Well, how are you,
+Belle?" greeting her affectionately as she came up to him rather
+shyly. Archie could hardly help smiling at the contrast between
+Isabel's brilliant evening toilet and his other sister's brown stuff
+dress. It was a little trying to his gravity to see her putting on
+such pretty little airs of matronly dignity. Mrs. Ellis Burton was an
+important person now; that was sufficiently obvious; the plump little
+figure was most lavishly adorned. But the round childish face was
+certainly very pretty; and, as every other sentence brought in
+"Ellis," and as Ellis's opinion appeared always right in her eyes,
+Archie deduced that his sister was satisfied with her choice.
+
+"Oh, dear, Mattie! how droll it is to see you home again!" exclaimed
+Susie, who was noted for making awkward speeches. "And how funny you
+look beside Isabel!"
+
+"We are very glad to have her back," returned Mrs. Drummond, in her
+repressive tones. She was just refilling her teapot from the urn, but
+she found opportunity to shake her head at Susie. "People do not
+generally look smart in their travelling-dress; but I think she looks
+very nice. Had you not a commoner gown, my dear? That looks almost too
+good for the purpose;" for Mrs. Drummond's sense of economy was a
+little shocked by perceiving that Mattie's gown was a new one.
+
+"It is very well made," observed Isabel, critically. "I am so glad,
+Mattie, that you have given up that hideous plaid: it never suited
+you."
+
+"If I had been you, I would have travelled in it," persisted Mrs.
+Drummond, who never could remember that Mattie was over thirty and
+might possibly have opinions of her own.
+
+Archie listened to all this with great amusement.
+
+"Don't you think it is about time I started a pleasanter subject,
+Mattie?" he asked, laughing. "Have you finished your tea, my dear? for
+I do not want to spoil your appetite; but time is getting on, and----"
+here he glanced at the clock.
+
+Every one stared at this, for Archie had never spoken in exactly that
+way to Mattie before; and, as he did so, Mattie's cheeks were burning.
+But what was their surprise when Archie suddenly rose from his seat
+and laid his hand kindly on Mattie's shoulder!
+
+"She is too shy to tell you herself; I have come all these miles to do
+it for her. Isabel, you need not look so consequential. Ellis is a
+good fellow, I dare say, but our little Mattie has done better for
+herself than even you. Mother, you have achieved a success in one of
+your seven daughters: let me introduce to you the future Lady
+Challoner!" And then, still keeping his hand upon her shoulder, he
+looked blandly round on them all.
+
+"Well, I am sure!" from Isabel, half pouting; but no one else spoke
+except Mr. Drummond:
+
+"What does this mean, Archie? Can't you speak for yourself, my girl?
+Is this a joke? Does he mean something amusing?" asked the father; but
+his lip quivered a little: if it should be true,--if it were no joke!
+
+"It is just as Archie says!" replied Mattie, timidly, not daring to
+raise her eyes. "Sir Harry asked me to marry him, and I said yes,
+because--because he was always so good to me." And here Mattie laughed
+a little hysterically. "And I did not think you would object,
+father."
+
+"Me object!" replied Mr. Drummond, oblivious of grammar just then.
+"Why, my little Mattie, what news is this? Come here and kiss me, my
+girl. I am proud of you; I am delighted to think a daughter of mine is
+going to make such a splendid match. Why don't you speak to her, my
+dear?" addressing his wife, with some excitement. "Bless my
+soul,--Lady Challoner, my plain little Mattie Lady Challoner! Is it
+possible? Why, you were telling us, Archie, what a Croesus this Sir
+Henry was, and how he had just bought quite a fine place for
+himself."
+
+"Mattie, come here." Her children could hardly recognize their
+mother's voice, it was so broken, and the tears were running down her
+cheeks, though not one of them remembered seeing her cry before.
+Mattie never felt her triumph greater, never understood the
+magnificence of her own success, until she saw those tears, and felt
+the presence of her mother's arms round her. Never since the child
+Mattie had had to make way for the new-born brother, and had toddled
+away with the never-forgotten words, "Mammy's arms are full; no room
+for Mattie now," had she laid her head upon that mother's shoulder to
+indulge in the good cry that was needed to relieve her. Isabel looked
+almost affronted as she twirled her diamond rings round her plump
+fingers. When she and Ellis had been engaged, her mother had not made
+all this fuss. And Mattie was such an old thing; and it was so
+ridiculous; and her father seemed on the verge of crying too. "But
+then," as Susie said afterwards, "Belle did not like her consequence
+to be set aside; and she and Ellis were just nobodies at all."
+
+No one enjoyed the scene so much as Archie: that was how his mother
+ought to be with her girls. Nevertheless, he interrupted them
+ruthlessly:
+
+"Don't make your eyes too red, Mattie: remember who will be in by and
+by." And as she started up at this and began to smooth her rumpled
+hair, he explained to them generally that they had not travelled
+alone; Sir Harry had accompanied them to Leeds, and was at present
+dining, he believed at the Star Hotel, where he had bespoken a room.
+"He thought it best to make himself known personally to you; and, as
+Mattie raised no objection, he announced his intention of calling this
+evening----" but before Archie could finish his sentence, or the
+awe-struck domestic announce him properly, Sir Harry himself was among
+them all, shaking hands with everybody, down to Dottie.
+
+And, really, for a shy man he did his part very well: he seemed to
+take his welcome for granted, and beamed on them all most genially.
+
+"I suppose the parson has already introduced me," he said, when Mr.
+Drummond senior held out his hand, "What a lot of you there are!" he
+continued, as he reached Dottie, who, dreadfully frightened at his
+size, tried to hide behind Susie. Dottie compared him in her own mind
+to one of their favorite giants. "He was so dreadfully like Fee-fo-fum
+in 'Jack the Giant-Killer,'" she pouted, when Mattie afterwards took
+her to task, "when he kissed me I thought he was going to eat me up."
+
+Mattie's dark little face lit up with shy happiness when she saw him
+sit down beside her mother and talk to her in his frank pleasant way.
+In her eyes he was nothing less than an angel of light. True, the room
+had never looked so small and shabby as it looked to-night, but what
+did that matter to Mattie?--the poor little Cinderella in the brown
+gown had found her prince. By and by the pumpkin-coach would fetch her
+to a grand house, she would have jewels and fine clothes,--everything
+that the heart of woman could desire; but it may be doubted if such
+thoughts ever crossed Mattie's mind. That he had chosen her, this was
+the miracle; that she was never to be scolded, and laughed at, and
+teased; that he had stooped to her, this noble, great-hearted man, to
+raise her from her humbleness; that he could care for her, in spite of
+her plainness and her many faults. No wonder if such happiness almost
+beautified Mattie, as she sat a little apart, surrounded by her young
+sisters.
+
+Mrs. Drummond's stern face glowed with pleasure when Sir Harry in a
+few simple words spoke to her of his pride in winning her daughter.
+Could it be her homely, old-fashioned little Mattie of whom he was
+speaking, whose unselfishness and goodness he praised so highly! "I
+have never known a more beautiful nature: she does not seem to me to
+have an unkind thought of any one. All my cousins love her. If you
+will trust her to me, I think I can promise, as far as a man can, that
+her life shall be a happy one." No wonder if the mother's eyes filled
+with joyous tears at such words as these.
+
+"Mattie, dear," said Sir Harry to her the next day, when they found
+themselves alone,--a rather difficult thing to achieve in the crowded
+household, but Mrs. Drummond had just left the room,--"I have been
+talking to your mother. She is a sensible woman, and she thinks in six
+weeks everything can be ready. What do you say?"
+
+"If mother thinks so, I suppose she is right," returned Mattie, very
+much confused by this sudden appeal to her opinion. Sir Harry had
+already importuned for a speedy marriage, and she had in much
+trepidation referred him to her mother, feeling herself unequal to the
+task of answering him.
+
+"Yes, your mother is a sensible woman," continued Sir Harry, taking no
+notice of her confusion. "She knows that a great house full of
+servants is more than a man can manage alone; and so, as I told her
+that Gilsbank was ready, and its master waiting, she was quite of my
+opinion that there should be no delay. You see, Mattie," in a tone of
+great gentleness, "though I am very fond of you, I cannot help feeling
+stifled in a small house full of people. There is no getting you to
+myself, or being comfortable; and a man of my size feels out of place
+among a lot of girls. So if you are willing, as of course you are,"
+very coaxingly, "and I am willing, we may as well get the thing over.
+It takes a good deal out of a fellow to go through this sort of thing
+properly, and I don't fancy I hit it off well: so we will say this day
+six weeks. And to-morrow you will be a good little woman, and let me
+go back to my comfortable quarters at Hadleigh, for one breathes only
+smoke here; and how you have always borne it all these years is a
+mystery to me."
+
+So Mattie let him go cheerfully. She had never been selfish in her
+life, and of course she spoke no word to dissuade him; but, though she
+had but few letters from him, and those of the briefest possible
+kind,--for Sir Harry was not fond of penmanship,--those six weeks were
+far from being unhappy. How could they be, when they were all so good
+to her, Mattie thought?--when her opinion was deferred to even by her
+mother, and when her brothers and sisters treated her with such
+respect and affection?
+
+Mattie had no sense of the ludicrous, or she would have laughed at the
+change in Clyde's tone, or at the way Fred boxed Dottie's ears for
+speaking rudely to Mattie: in their eyes the future Lady Challoner was
+a person of the utmost importance. The boys vied with each other in
+waiting on her; the girls were always ready with their little
+services. Mattie felt herself almost overwhelmed sometimes.
+
+"Oh, mother, ask them not to do it!" she said, one day, with tears in
+her eyes. "I am only Mattie; I am not different; I never shall be
+different. I shall want to wait on you all my life,--on you and all of
+them!"
+
+"It is for them to wait on you more!" returned her mother, gravely. "I
+am afraid they have not always been good to you, and they want to make
+up for it."
+
+But not all the attentions she received could move Mattie from her own
+humble estimate of herself; and yet in some ways, if she could have
+seen herself, she would have owned there was a difference. Mattie no
+longer fussed and fidgeted: always sweet-natured, she grew placid in
+her new happiness.
+
+"I consider myself a fortunate fellow, for I have the dearest little
+wife in the world," Sir Harry said to her a few days after they were
+married, when Mattie had, as usual, said something disparaging of
+herself. "Never mind what you think, so long as I am satisfied; and it
+is very rude of you to be always finding fault with my choice,--ay,
+Lady Challoner!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L.
+
+PHILLIS'S FAVORITE MONTH.
+
+
+Archie had been persuaded to remain until the following evening, and
+to take the night mail up to London. "You know you always sleep so
+soundly in a railway-carriage," his mother had said, with her eyes
+full of pleading.
+
+"Perhaps so; but all the same it is dreary work to be shunted on to a
+platform in the middle of the night, and to have to find your way
+across London to catch a Sussex train." But, in spite of his grumbling
+he had remained. For once it was difficult to tear himself away from
+that happy family party.
+
+But all through that night he scarcely closed his eyes, but sat
+staring at the swinging-lamp and his drowsy fellow-passengers, or out
+into the blank wall of darkness, too wide awake and full of thought to
+lose himself in his usual placid slumbers. The fortunes of the
+Drummond family seemed rising a little, he thought, with pleasure. How
+alert and full of energy his father had seemed when he had parted from
+him at the station! he had lost that subdued despondent look that had
+grown on him of late. Even his shoulders were a little less bowed, as
+though the burden did not press quite so heavily.
+
+"All this makes a great difference to me, Archie," he had said, as
+they had walked to and fro on the platform. "Two such wealthy
+sons-in-law ought to satisfy any father's ambition. I can hardly
+believe yet that my little Mattie--whom her sisters always called 'the
+old maid'--should have secured such a prize. If it had been Grace,
+now, one need not have wondered so much."
+
+"You may leave Grace out of your reckoning," returned Archie, smiling
+assent to this, "and consider you have three out of your seven
+daughters provided for, for Grace will always be my care. Whatever
+happens in the future, I think I can promise as much as that."
+
+"Ay, ay! I remember when she was a little thing she always called
+herself Archie's wife. Well, well, the mother must bring on Clara now:
+it would be a shame to separate you two. Look, there is your train, my
+boy! Jump in, and God bless you! You will come down to the wedding of
+course, and bring Grace."
+
+"Archie's wife." It was these two words that were keeping him so wide
+awake in the rushing darkness. A dusky flush mounted to the young
+man's forehead as he pondered over them.
+
+He knew himself better now. Only a few weeks, scarcely more than a
+fortnight, had passed since Grace had given him that hint; but each
+day since then had done the work of years. Caught at the rebound
+indeed, and that so securely and strongly that the man's heart could
+never waver from its fixed purpose again.
+
+Now it was that he wondered at his blindness; that he began to
+question with a perfect anguish of doubt whether he should be too
+late; whether his vacillation and that useless dream of his would
+hinder the fulfilment of what was now his dearest hope.
+
+Would he ever bring her to believe that he had never really loved
+before,--not, at least, as he could love now? Would he ever dare to
+tell her so, when she had known and understood that first stray fancy
+of his for Nan's sweet face?
+
+Now, as day after day he visited the cottage and talked apart with her
+mother, his eyes would follow Phillis wistfully. Once the girl had
+looked up from her work and caught that long, watchful glance; and
+then she had grown suddenly very pale, and a pained expression crossed
+her face, as though she had been troubled.
+
+Since that night when the young vicar had stood bare-headed on the
+snowy steps, and had told Phillis laughingly that one day she would
+find out for herself that all men were masterful, and she had run down
+the steps flashing back that disdainful look at him, he had felt there
+was a change in her manner to him.
+
+They had been such good friends of late; it had become a habit with
+him to turn to Phillis when he wanted sympathy. A silent, scarcely
+perceptible understanding had seemed to draw them together; but in one
+moment, at a word, a mere light jest of his that meant nothing, the
+girl had become all at once reserved, frozen up, impenetrable even to
+friendship.
+
+In vain he strove to win her back to her old merry talk. Her frank
+recklessness of speech seemed over for the present. In his presence
+she was almost always silent,--not with any awkwardness of
+embarrassment, but with a certain maidenly reserve of bearing, as
+though she had marked out a particular line of conduct for herself.
+
+When Grace was in the room, things were better: Phillis could not be
+otherwise than affectionate to her chosen friend. And when they were
+alone together, all Phillis's bright playfulness seemed to return; but
+nothing would induce her to cross the threshold of the vicarage.
+
+The evening after his return from Leeds, Archie, as usual, dropped in
+at the Friary; but this time he brought Grace with him. They were all
+gathered in the work-room, which had now become their favorite resort.
+On some pretext or other, the lamp had not been brought in; but they
+were all sitting round the fire, chatting in an idle desultory way.
+
+Phillis was half hidden behind her mother's chair: perhaps this was
+the reason why her voice had its old merry chord. She had welcomed
+Archie rather gravely,--hardly turning her face to him as she spoke;
+but as soon as she was in her corner again, she took up the thread of
+their talk in her usual frank way. But it was Grace that she
+addressed.
+
+"Poor dear Harry! We have all been laughing a little at the notion of
+Alcides being in love. Somehow, it seems so droll that Mattie should
+turn out his Deianeira; but, after all, I think he has shown very good
+sense in his choice. Mattie will wear well."
+
+"You seem to agree with the 'Vicar of Wakefield,' Miss Challoner,"
+observed Archie, rather amused at this temperate praise. "Did not that
+excellent man choose his wife for the same reason that she choose her
+wedding-dress, with a view to durability?"
+
+"Oh, there is a vast amount of wisdom in all that," returned Phillis,
+with mock solemnity; for she did not mind what nonsense she talked in
+the darkness. "If life had nothing but fair-weather days, it might be
+excusable for a man to choose his wife for mere beauty; but when one
+thinks of fogs and east-winds, and smoky chimneys, and all such minor
+evils, they may need something a little more sustaining than a pink
+complexion. At least," catching herself up, and hurrying on as though
+the real meaning of her words only just occurred to her, "though
+Mattie may not be beautiful outwardly, she is just the right sort of
+person for a regular east-windy day. Not even a smoky chimney and a
+fog together will put her out of temper."
+
+"I will recollect your advice when the time comes," replied Archie
+rather audaciously at this, as he laughed and stroked his beard.
+
+It pleased him to see the old fun brimming over again, fresh and
+sparkling; but, as he answered her in the same vein of pleasantry, she
+colored up in her dark corner and shrank back into herself, and all
+the rest of the evening he could hardly win a smile from her.
+
+"My dear, I think Mr. Drummond comes very often," Mrs. Challoner said
+to her eldest daughter that night. "He is very gentlemanly, and a most
+excellent young man: but I begin to be afraid what these visits
+mean." But Nan only laughed at this.
+
+"Poor mother!" she said, stroking her face. "Don't you wish you had us
+all safe at Glen Cottage again? There are so few young men at
+Oldfield."
+
+"I cannot bear young men," was the somewhat irritable answer. "What is
+the use of having children, when just when they grow up to be a
+comfort to you, every one tries to deprive you of them? Dick has
+robbed me of you,"--and here Mrs. Challoner grew tearful,--"and Dulce
+is always with the Middletons; and I am not at all sure that Captain
+Middleton is not beginning to admire her."
+
+"Neither am I," observed Nan, a little gravely; for, though they
+seldom talked of such things among themselves, "son Hammond's"
+attentions were decidedly conspicuous, and Dulce was looking as shy
+and pretty as possible.
+
+No; she could not give her mother any comfort there, for the
+solemn-faced young officer was clearly bent on mischief. Indeed, both
+father and son were making much of the little girl. But as regarded
+Mr. Drummond there could be no question of his intentions. The growing
+earnestness, the long wistful looks, were not lost on Nan who knew all
+such signs by experience. It was easy to understand the young vicar:
+it was Phillis who baffled her.
+
+They had never had any secrets between them. From their very
+childhood, Nan had shared Phillis's every thought. But once or twice
+when she had tried to approach the subject in the gentlest manner,
+Phillis had started away like a restive colt, and had answered her
+almost with sharpness:
+
+"Nonsense, Nannie! What is it to me if Mr. Drummond comes a dozen
+times a day?" arching her long neck in the proudest way, but her
+throat contracting a little over the uttered falsehood; for she knew,
+none better, what these visits were to her. "Do you think I should
+take the trouble to investigate his motives? Don't you know, Nan," in
+her sweet whimsical voice, "that the masculine mind loves to conjugate
+the verb 'to amuse'? Mr. Drummond is evidently bored by his own
+company; but there! the vagaries of men are innumerable. One might as
+well question the ebbing tide as inquire of these young divinities the
+reason of all their eccentric actions. He comes because we amuse him,
+and we like to see him because he amuses us: and when he bores us, we
+can tell him so, which is better than Canute and the waves, after
+all." And of course, after this, Nan was compelled to drop the
+subject.
+
+But she watched Phillis anxiously; for she saw that the girl was
+restless and ill at ease. The thoughtful gray eyes had a shadow in
+them. The bright spirits were quenched, and only kindled by a great
+effort; and, as the time for their leaving the Friary grew closer day
+by day, until the last week approached, she flagged more, and the
+shadow grew deeper.
+
+"If he would only speak and end all this suspense!" thought Nan, who
+knew nothing of the real state of things, and imagined that Mr.
+Drummond had cared for Phillis from the first.
+
+They had already commenced their packing. Sir Harry was back in his
+hotel, solacing himself with his cousin's company, and writing brief
+letters to his homely little bride-elect, when one fine afternoon he
+met them and Grace just starting for the shore.
+
+This was their programme on most afternoons, and of course they had
+not gone far before Captain Middleton and his father and sister joined
+them; and a little later on, just as they were entering the town, they
+overtook Mr. Drummond.
+
+Phillis nodded to him in a friendly manner, and then walked on with
+Grace, taking no further notice; but when they were on the shore,
+admiring the fine sunset effect, Grace quietly dropped her arm and
+slipped away to join the others. Phillis stood motionless: her eyes
+were riveted on the grand expanse of sky and ocean. "It is so like
+life," she said at last, not seeing who stood beside her, while all
+the others were walking on in groups of twos and threes, Dulce close
+to the colonel, as usual. "Do you see those little boats, Grace? one
+is sailing so smoothly in the sunlight, and the other scarcely
+stirring in the shadow,--brightness to some, you see, and shade to
+others; and beyond, that clear line of light, like the promise of
+eternity."
+
+"Don't you think it lies within most people's power to make their own
+lives happier?" returned Archie so quietly to this that she scarcely
+started. "The sunshine and shade are more evenly balanced than we
+know. To be sure, there are some lives like that day that is neither
+clear nor dark,--gray, monotonous lives, with few breaks and pleasures
+in them. But perhaps even that question may be happily solved when one
+looks out a little farther to the light beyond."
+
+"Yes, if one does not grow tired of waiting for the answer," she said,
+a little dreamily. "There is so much that cannot be clear here." And
+then she roused with a little difficulty from her abstraction, and
+looked around her. The others had all gone on: they were standing
+alone on the shingly beach, just above a little strip of yellow
+sand,--only they two. Was it for this reason that her eyes grew wide
+and troubled, and she moved away rather hurriedly? But he still kept
+close to her, talking quietly as he did so.
+
+"Do you remember this place?" he said: "it reminds me of a picture I
+once saw. I think it was 'Atalanta's Race,' only there was no Paris.
+It was just such as scene as this: there was the dark breakwater, and
+the long line of surf breaking on the shore, and the sun was shining
+on the water; and there was a girl running with her head erect, and
+she scarcely seemed to touch the ground, and she stopped just here,"
+resting his hand on the black, shiny timber.
+
+"Do not," she answered, in a low voice, "do not recall that day: it
+stings me even now to remember it." And as the words "Bravo Atalanta!"
+recurred to her memory, the hot blush of shame mounted to her face.
+
+"I have no need to recall it," he returned, still more quietly, for
+her discomposure was great, "for I have never forgotten it. Yes, this
+is the place, not where I first saw you, but where I first began to
+know you. Phillis, that knowledge is becoming everything to me now!"
+
+"Do not," she said, again, but she could hardly bring out the words.
+But how wonderful it was to hear her name pronounced like that! "The
+others have gone on: we must join them."
+
+"May I not tell you what I think about you first?" he asked, very
+gently.
+
+"Not now,--not yet," she almost whispered; and now he saw that she was
+very pale, and her eyes were full of tears. "I could not bear it yet."
+And then, as she moved farther away from him, he could see how great
+was her agitation.
+
+It was a proof of his love and earnestness that he suffered the girl
+to leave him in this way, that he did not again rejoin her until they
+were close to the others. In spite of his impatience and his many
+faults, he was generous enough to understand her without another word.
+She had not repelled him; she had not silenced him entirely; she had
+not listened to him and then answered him with scorn. On the contrary,
+her manner had been soft and subdued, more winning than he had ever
+known it; and yet she had refused to hearken to his suit. "Not
+now,--not yet," she had said, and he could see that her lip quivered,
+and her beautiful eyes were full of tears. It was too soon, that was
+what she meant; too soon for him to speak and for her to listen. She
+owed it to her own dignity that his affection should be put to greater
+proof than that. She must not be so lightly won; she must not stoop
+down from her maidenly pride and nobleness at his first words because
+she had grown to care for him. "It must not be so, however much the
+denial may cost me," Phillis had said to herself. But as she joined
+the others, and came to Nan's side, she could scarcely steady her
+voice or raise her eyes, for fear their shy consciousness would betray
+her. "At last," and "at last!"--that was the refrain that was ringing
+so joyously in her heart. Well, and one day he should tell her what he
+would.
+
+She thought she had silenced him entirely, but she forgot that men
+were masterful and had cunning ways of their own to compass their
+ends. Archie had recovered his courage; he had still a word to say,
+and he meant to say it; and just before the close of the walk, as they
+were in the darkest part of the Braidwood Road, just where the trees
+meet overhead, before one reaches the vicarage, Phillis found him
+again at her side.
+
+"When may I hope that you will listen?" he said. "I am not a patient
+man: you must remember that, and not make it too hard for me. I should
+wish to know how soon I may come."
+
+"Spring is very beautiful in the country," she answered, almost too
+confused by this unexpected address to know what she was saying. "I
+think May is my favorite month, when the hawthorns are out."
+
+"Thank you, I will come in May." And then Phillis woke up to the
+perception of what she had said. "Oh, no, I did not meant that," she
+began, incoherently; but this time it was Archie who moved away, with
+a smile on his face and a certain vivid brightness in his eyes, and
+her stammered words were lost in the darkness.
+
+The whole week was much occupied by paying farewell visits. On the
+last afternoon Phillis went down to the White House to say good-bye.
+It was one of Magdalene's bad days; but the unquiet hour had passed,
+and left her, as usual, weak and subdued. Her husband was sitting
+beside her: as Phillis entered he rose with a smile on his lips. "That
+is right, Miss Challoner!" he said, heartily. "Magdalene always looks
+better the moment she hears your voice. Barby is unfortunately out,
+but I can leave her happily with you."
+
+"Is he not good?" exclaimed his wife, as soon as he had left them. "He
+has been sitting with me all the afternoon, my poor Herbert, trying to
+curb his restlessness, because he knows how much worse I am without
+him. Am I not a trying wife to him? and yet he says he could not do
+without me. There, it has passed: let us talk of something else. And
+so you are going to leave us?" drawing the fresh face down to hers,
+that she might kiss it again.
+
+"Yes, to-morrow!" trying to stifle a sigh.
+
+"There are some of us that will not know what to do without you. If I
+am not very much mistaken, there is one person who----" but here the
+girl laid her hand hurriedly on her lips. "What! I am not to say that?
+Well, I will try to be good. But all the same this is not good-bye.
+Tell your mother from me that she will not have her girls for long.
+Captain Middleton has lost his heart, and is bent on making that
+pretty little sister of yours lose hers to; and as for you,
+Phillis----" but here Phillis stooped, and silenced her this time by a
+kiss.
+
+"Ah, well!" continued Magdalene, after a moment's silence, as she
+looked tenderly into the fair face before her; "so you have finished
+your little bit of play-work, and are going back into your
+young-ladyhood again?"
+
+"It was not play-work!" returned Phillis, indignantly: "you say that
+to provoke me. Do you know," she went on, earnestly, "that if we
+should have had to work all our lives as dressmakers, Nan and I would
+have done it, and never given in. We were making quite a fine business
+of it. We had more orders then we could execute; and you call that
+play? Confess, now, that you repent of that phrase!"
+
+"Oh, I was only teasing you," returned Magdalene, smiling. "I know how
+brave you were, and how terribly in earnest. Yes, Phillis, you are
+right; nothing would have daunted you; you would have worked without
+complaint all your life long, but for that red-haired Alcides of
+yours."
+
+"Dear Harry! how much we owe to him!" exclaimed Phillis.
+
+"No, dear, you will owe your happiness to yourself,--the happiness,"
+as the girl looked at her in surprise, "that is coming to you and
+Dulce. It was because you were not like other girls--because you were
+brave, self-reliant gentlewomen, afraid of nothing but dishonor; not
+fearful of small indignities, or of other people's opinions, but just
+taking up the work that lay to your hands, and going through with
+it--that you have won his heart: and, seeing this, how could he help
+loving you as he does?" But to this Phillis made no answer.
+
+The next day was rather trying to them all. Phillis's cheerfulness was
+a little forced, and for some time after they had left the
+Friary--with Grace and Archie waving their farewells from the
+road--she was very silent.
+
+But no sooner had they crossed the threshold of Glen Cottage than
+their girlhood asserted itself. The sight of the bright snug rooms,
+with their new furniture, the conservatory, with its floral treasures,
+and Sir Harry's cheery welcome, as he stood in the porch with Mrs.
+Mayne, was too much even for Phillis's equanimity. In a few minutes
+their laughing faces were peering out of every window and into every
+cupboard.
+
+"Oh, the dear, beautiful home! Isn't it lovely of Harry to bring us
+back!" cried Phillis, oblivious of everything at that moment but her
+mother's satisfied face.
+
+In a few days they had settled down into their old life. It was too
+early for tennis while snowdrops and crocuses were peeping out of the
+garden borders. But in the afternoon friends dropped in in the old
+way, and gathered round the Challoner tea-table; and very soon--for
+Easter fell early that year--Dick showed himself among them, and then,
+indeed, Nan's cup of happiness was full.
+
+But as April passed on Phillis began to grow a little silent again;
+and it became a habit with her to coax Laddie to take long walks with
+her, when Nan and Dulce were otherwise engaged. The exercise seemed to
+quiet her restlessness; and the spring sights and sounds, the budding
+hedgerows, and the twittering of the birds as they built their nests,
+and the fresh leafy green, unsoiled by summer heat and dust, seemed to
+refresh her flagging spirits.
+
+It was the 1st of May, when one afternoon she called to Laddie, who
+was lying drowsily in the sunny porch. Nan, who was busily engaged in
+training the creeper round the pillars of the veranda, looked up in a
+little surprise:
+
+"Are you going out again, Phil? And neither Dulce nor I can come with
+you. Mrs. Mayne has some friends coming to five-o'clock tea, and she
+wants us to go over for an hour. It is so dull for you, dear, always
+to walk alone."
+
+"Oh no; I shall not be dull, Nannie," returned Phillis, with an
+unsteady smile, for her spirits were a little fluctuating that
+afternoon. "I am restless, and want a good walk: so I shall just go to
+Sandy Lane, and be back in time to make tea for mother." And then she
+waved her hand, and whistled to Laddie as she unlatched the little
+gate. It was a long walk. But, as usual, the quiet and the sweet air
+refreshed her, and by the time she reached Sandy Lane her eyes were
+brilliant with exercise, and a pretty pink tinge of color was in her
+cheeks. It is May-day,--the 1st of May. I wonder how soon he will
+come, she thought, as she leaned on the little gate where poor Dick
+had leaned that day.
+
+There were footsteps approaching, but they made no sound over the
+sandy ruts. A tall man, with a fair beard and a clerical felt hat, was
+walking quickly up the road that leads from Oldfield; and as he walked
+his eyes were scanning the path before him, as though he were looking
+for some one. At the sight of the girl leaning against the gate his
+face brightened, and he slackened his steps a little, that he might
+not startle her. She was looking out across the country with a
+far-off, dreamy expression, and did not turn her head as he
+approached. It was Laddie who saw him first, and jumped up with a
+joyous bark to welcome him; and then she looked round, and for a
+moment her eyes grew wide and misty, for she thought it was a
+continuation of her dream.
+
+"Laddie saw me first," he said, stepping up quietly to her side,--for
+he still feared to startle her,--and his voice was very gentle.
+"Phillis, you must not look so surprised! Surely you expected me? It
+is the 1st of May!"
+
+"Oh, I knew that," she said; and then she turned away from him. But he
+had not dropped her hand, but was holding it very quietly and firmly.
+"But I could not tell the day; and----"
+
+"Did you think I should wait an hour beyond the time you fixed?" he
+answered, very calmly. "May is your favorite month; and what could be
+more beautiful than May-day for the purpose I have in hand! Phillis,
+you will not go back from your promise now? You said you would listen
+to me in May."
+
+There was no answer to this; but, as Archie looked in her face, he
+read no repulse there. And so, in that quiet lane, with Laddie lying
+at their feet, he told all he had to tell.
+
+"Are you sure you can trust me now, Phillis?" he asked, rather
+wistfully, when he had finished. "You know what I am, dear--a man with
+many faults."
+
+"Yes; now and forever," she answered, without a moment's hesitation.
+"I am not afraid--I never should have been afraid to trust you, I have
+faults of my own: so why should I wish you to be perfect? I care for
+you as you are; you will believe that?" for there was almost a sad
+humility in his face as he pleaded with her that went to her heart.
+
+"Oh, yes; I believe what you tell me. You are truth itself, my
+darling,--the bravest and truest woman I have ever met. You do not
+know how happy you have made me, or how different my life will be when
+I have you by my side. Phillis, do you know how glad Grace will be
+about this?"
+
+"Will she?" returned Phillis, shyly. They were walking homeward now,
+hand in hand toward the sunset,--so, at least, it seemed to the girl.
+No one was in sight, only the quiet country round them bathed in the
+evening light, and they two alone. "Archie!" she exclaimed, suddenly,
+and her beautiful eyes grew wistful all at once, "you will not let
+this make any difference to Grace? She loves you so; and you are all
+she has at present. You must never let me stand between you two. I am
+not so selfish as that."
+
+"You could not be selfish if you tried, dearest. How I wish Grace
+could have heard you! No; you are right. We must not let her suffer
+from our happiness. But, Phillis, you know who must come first now."
+And then, as she smiled in full understanding, he put her hand upon
+his arm, and held it there. His promised wife,--Archie's wife! Ah, the
+Drummond star was rising now in earnest! His life lay before him, like
+the road they were now entering, white and untrodden and bathed in the
+sunlight. What if some clouds should come, and some shadows fall, if
+they might tread it together to the end? And so, growing silent with
+happiness, they walked home through the sunset, till the spring dusk
+and the village lights saw them standing together on the threshold of
+Glen Cottage, and the dear faces and loving voices of home closed
+around them and bade them welcome.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+HOW TO BECOME RICH.
+A TREATISE ON PHRENOLOGY
+
+A Choice of Professions and Matrimony--A Self-Instructor
+By Prof. William Windsor, Ph. D.
+Fully illustrated.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Every young man and woman of reasonable intelligence is, or ought to
+be, possessed of a laudable ambition to be self-sustaining. To win a
+competency, to secure the necessities, to have even the luxuries of
+life, is perfectly praiseworthy, provided they are obtained in a
+legitimate manner. Every rational man seeks the occupation, trade or
+profession which insures the profitable employment of his best talents,
+and the science which discloses to the youth at the beginning of his
+education what those talents are and how they may be developed to
+perfection in early manhood, confers upon him the greatest favor within
+the gift of knowledge, from a financial standpoint. That a knowledge of
+Phrenology does this, and more, this book proves beyond all question.
+
+Paper, 184 pages. Price, 25 cents.
+
+FACIOLOGY
+OR, THE SCIENCE OF CHARACTER · A SELF-INSTRUCTOR
+
+By L. B. Stevens, LL. B.
+95 Illustrations
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Faciology" opens up an old, familiar and picturesque field of
+observation in a new and scientific light; it gives one a mortgage on
+man, a quasi-ownership in every creature and individual that comes
+within our range of contemplation; this science stimulates our
+observation and augments our reason; it teaches us to interrogate the
+causes and meaning of human actions, intensifies our interest in
+humanity, and fills the heart with a higher and more ardent devotion to
+philanthropy.
+
+Paper, 208 pages. Price, 25 cents.
+
+For sale by all book and newsdealers, or will send to any address in
+the United States, Canada or Mexico, postage prepaid on receipt of
+price, in currency, money order or stamps.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
+407-429 Dearborn Street--CHICAGO
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Illustrated Holiday and Presentation Editions
+
+QUO VADIS
+By Henryk Stenkiewicz.
+
+530 pages and illustrated with 32 photographs and scenes in half-tones;
+taken from F. C. Whitney's great dramatic production. A new and
+complete translation, printed from large clear type on a superior
+quality of paper, and bound in ornamental cloth with title stamped on
+front and back from unique dies. A sumptious edition of this
+masterpiece. Price....$1.00
+
+IN HIS STEPS
+By Charles M. Sheldon.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+275 pages, illustrated with 8 beautiful half-tone engravings. Printed
+from new clear type on superior paper, bound in ornamental cloth,
+stamped from unique dies, title on side and back in gold. Over three
+million copies of this book have been sold, and it has been the aim of
+the publishers to make this edition the most attractive illustrated
+edition at a popular price. Price....$1.00
+
+SAPPHO
+By Alphonse Daudet.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+224 pages, illustrated with 8 half-tone reproductions of the striking
+climaxes of the play. New type, superior paper and bound in ornamental
+cloth, embellished with unique stamping on side and back in gold.
+Price....$1.00
+
+UNCLE TOM'S CABIN
+By Harriet Beecher Stowe
+
+[Illustration]
+
+With two portraits of the author and 25 full-page illustrations by
+George Cruikshank, the famous illustrator of Dickens. 467 pages of text,
+printed from large type on toned paper, bound in ornamental cloth and
+stamped from unique dies on front and back in gold. Gold top.
+Price....$1.25
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO., CHICAGO.
+
+
+
+
+PATRIOTIC RECITATIONS AND READINGS
+Compiled by Charles Walter Brown
+
+[Illustration]
+
+This is the choicest, newest and most complete collection of Patriotic
+recitations published, and includes all of the best known selections,
+together with the best utterances of many eminent statesmen. Selections
+for Decoration Day, Fourth of July, Washington's and Lincoln's
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+
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+than new and meritorious material appropriate for such occasions. This
+book is designed to fill the want.
+
+Handsomely bound in Paper Covers    25 Cents
+Cloth                               50 Cents
+
+COMPLETE GUIDE TO DANCING
+
+Ball Room Etiquette and Quadrille Call Book
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Containing all the new and modern square dances and tabulated forms for
+the guidance of the leader or others in calling them. Full and complete
+directions for performing every known square dance, such as Plain
+Quadrilles, Polka Quadrilles, Prairie Queen, Varieties Quadrille,
+Francaise, Dixie Figure, Girl I Left Behind Me, Old Dan Tucker, Money
+Musk, Waltz Lanciers, Military Lanciers, Columbian Lanciers, Oakland
+Minuet, Waltz Quadrilles, etc., etc.
+
+The "German" introduces over One Hundred of the newest and most popular
+Figures, fully described, and conveniently grouped for ready reference.
+
+Every information in regard to the service of Ball-Room Etiquette,
+duties of Leaders and general instruction is fully and clearly given.
+
+Handsomely bound in Paper Covers    25 Cents
+Cloth                               50 Cents
+
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+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
+407-429 DEARBORN ST
+CHICAGO
+
+
+
+
+THE SELF-EDUCATOR SERIES
+Edited by John Adams, M. A., B. Sc.
+
+12Mo. Cloth. Uniform in Size and Binding.
+List Price. 75 Cents Each
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The object of this series is to meet the needs of students who are
+either unable or unwilling to attend classes in subjects which they wish
+to study. No effort has been spared to make the books self-contained. It
+is taken for granted that no help is available other than that to be
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+begin at the beginning of their subjects, and carry the student far
+enough to enable him to continue his studies intelligently and
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+exhaust a whole subject in one book. Each volume contains all the
+"Essentials" of the subject, and concludes with a set of hints on how
+best to prosecute the study as a private student.
+
+Self-Educator In Algebra
+By W. P. Higgs. 12mo, cloth    $0.75
+
+Self-Educator in French
+By John Adams. 12mo, cloth        75
+
+Self-Educator in Latin
+By W. A. Edward. 12mo, cloth      75
+
+Self Educator in German
+By John Adams. 12mo, cloth        75
+
+Self-Educator in Chemistry
+By James Knight. 12mo, cloth      75
+
+Self-Educator in English Composition
+By G. H. Thornton. 12mo, cloth    75
+
+Single copies of the above books sent postpaid upon receipt of 75c. Any
+two for $1.40; any three for $1.95; any four for $2.40: any five for
+$2.75; or the set of six volumes for $3.00.
+
+M. A. Donohue & Co.,
+407-429 Dearborn Street, CHICAGO
+
+
+
+
+OUR SUNDAY SCHOOL LIBRARY FOR VERY YOUNG CHILDREN
+
+12 Volumes--Cloth--Illustrated
+
+We take pleasure in announcing the publication of new and enlarged
+editions of the following books, comprising our Sunday School Library
+for very young children. Thousands of Sunday Schools and Kindergartens
+throughout America have ordered the entire set. In some instances
+several sets have been ordered for one school where the enrollment is
+very large. Approved by teachers and ministers of all denominations.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ 1. PAPA'S PET
+ 2. SUNBEAMS AND SHADOWS
+ 3. MISS ROSY
+ 4. BEACH FARM CHILDREN
+ 5. GOOD NIGHT STORIES
+ 6. HELPING MAMMA
+ 7. PLEASANT TIMES
+ 8. BOBBY'S TEETH
+ 9. PLAY DAY
+10. LITTLE TEACHERS
+11. PRETTY STORIES
+12. AUNT ELIZABETH
+
+Each volume contains about 50 pages printed on an extra quality of heavy
+book paper, profusely illustrated and bound in an excellent quality of
+silk cloth, assorted colors, and stamped with unique dies in two colors
+ink.
+
+Price, 25c each, any 2 for 45c, 5 for $1.00 or the 12 for $2.00
+By mail or express, prepaid, to any address.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY
+407-429 Dearborn Street, Chicago
+
+
+
+
+NATURAL HISTORY STORIES.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+We have included in this series a carefully selected number of books
+that will fascinate and interest, as well as instruct, old and young
+alike. The books are printed from large, clear type; are profusely
+illustrated and are bound in a substantial and attractive manner in
+Cloth, artistically stamped in Inks from Unique Dies.
+
+Price of each book is $1.00, postpaid.
+
+History of Animals, Their Varieties and Oddities.
+
+Comprising graphic descriptions of nearly all known species of beasts
+and reptiles the world over, illustrating their varied habits, mode of
+life and distinguishing peculiarities by means of delightful anecdotes
+and spirited engravings, by the. Rev. W. Bingley, A. M. Containing 586
+pages of large, clear type, and over 500 illustrations; bound in Cloth;
+stamped in silks from unique dies.
+
+Price, $1.00.
+
+History of Birds.
+
+Containing their varieties and habits, and comprising sketches of every
+known species of birds in all climes; illustrating their use, value and
+culture, by the Rev. W. Bingley, A. M. Containing 500 pages of clear
+type text and nearly 500 illustrations, made especially for this work;
+bound in Cloth and stamped in Inks from unique dies. Large 12mo, 6-1/2 x
+9 inches.
+
+Price, $1.00.
+
+History of the Sea.
+
+Comprising a complete description of all the varieties of the finny
+inhabitants of the sea, showing their mode of life, and illustrating
+their habits and usefulness, by Rev. W. Bingley, A. M. Containing over
+500 pages of large, clear type, and nearly 500 illustrations; bound in
+Cloth; stamped in Inks from unique dies.
+
+Price, $1.00.
+
+For sale by all Book and News Dealers, or will be sent to any address in
+the United States, Canada or Mexico, postage paid, on receipt of price,
+in currency, money order or stamps.
+
+M. A. Donahue & Co.
+407-420 Dearborn St.
+Chicago
+
+
+
+
+LIVES OF FAMOUS MEN
+Edited by Charles Walter Brown, A. M.
+
+In this series of historical and biographical works the publishers have
+included only such books as will interest and instruct the youth of both
+sexes. A copy should be in every public school and private library.
+Special discount made when entire set is ordered. They are printed from
+large, clear type on an excellent quality of paper and substantially and
+attractively bound in cloth, stamped in inks and gold from original
+designs. Each book is fully illustrated. Price, $1.00 per copy,
+postpaid.
+
+LIFE OF GEORGE WASHINGTON.
+By George Washington Parke Curtis, the adopted son of our first
+president. Cloth, 664 pages, large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
+By Hon. Joseph H. Barrett, ex-member of Congress, Cloth, 842 pages,
+large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF U. S. GRANT.
+By Hon. B. P. Poore and Rev. O. H. Tiffany, D. D. Cloth, 594 pages,
+large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF WILLIAM McKINLEY.
+By Murat Halstead, Chauncey M. Depew and John Sherman, Cloth, 450 pages,
+large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF THEODORE ROOSEVELT.
+By Thomas W. Handford. Cloth, 255 pages, large, 16mo.
+
+LIFE OF HENRY M. STANLEY,
+By A. M. Godbey, A. M. Cloth, 560 pages, large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF JOHN PAUL JONES.
+By Charles Walter Brown, A. M. Cloth, nearly 300 pages, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF ETHAN ALLEN,
+By Charles Walter Brown, A. M. Cloth, nearly 300 pages, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF W. T. SHERMAN.
+By Hon. W. Fletcher Johnson and Gen. O. O. Howard. Cloth, 607 pages,
+large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF P. T. BARNUM.
+By Hon. Joel Benton. Cloth, 621 pages, large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF T. DEWITT TALMAGE.
+By Charles Francis Adams. Cloth, nearly 500 pages.
+
+LIFE OF D. L. MOODY.
+By Charles Francis Adams. Cloth, 318 pages, large, 12mo.
+
+For sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any address in
+the United States, Canada or Mexico, upon receipt of price in currency,
+stamps, postal or express money order.
+
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+
+
+
+
+"HARKAWAY" SERIES OF BOOKS FOR BOYS
+By Bracebridge Hemyng
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Jack Harkaway's School Days" is one of the most fascinating and
+instructive books for boys published, and should be read by every boy
+before his 15th year. After reading this book the other 14 should be
+read in the order in which they are given since each is a continuation
+of the one preceding.
+
+They are uniformly bound in linen cloth, stamped with original designs,
+in inks, on backs and sides.
+
+Price Per Volume, 75 Cents
+
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+fifteen volumes."--Book and Newsdealer.
+
+ 1 Jack Harkaway's School Days
+ 2 Jack Harkaway After School Days
+ 3 Jack Harkaway Afloat and Ashore
+ 4 Jack Harkaway at Oxford, Part 1
+ 5 Jack Harkaway at Oxford, Part 2
+ 6 Jack Harkaway Among the Brigands, Part 1
+ 7 Jack Harkaway Among the Brigands, Part 2
+ 8 Jack Harkaway's Adventures Around the World
+ 9 Jack Harkaway in America and Cuba
+10 Jack Harkaway's Adventures in China
+11 Jack Harkaway's Adventures in Greece, Part 1
+12 Jack Harkaway's Adventures in Greece, Part 2
+13 Jack Harkaway's Adventures in Australia
+14 Jack Harkaway and His Boy Tinker, Part 1
+15 Jack Harkaway and His Boy Tinker, Part 2
+
+For sale by all book and newsdealers or will be sent postpaid upon
+receipt of price, in currency, money order or stamps, to any address in
+the United States, Canada or Mexico.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
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+
+
+
+
+THE GREATEST LIFE OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN YET PUBLISHED
+
+By Hon. Jos. H. Barrett,
+and Charles Walter. Brown, A. M.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+In this great work which embraces the complete life of the greatest man
+of modern times, nothing has been omitted or slighted. His early
+History, Political Career, Speeches, both in and out of Congress, the
+great Lincoln-Douglas Debates, every state paper, speech, message and
+two inaugural addresses are given in full, together with many
+characteristic STORIES AND YARNS by and concerning Lincoln, which have
+earned for him the sobriquet "The Story Telling President."
+
+In addition there is included a COMPLETE ACCOUNT OF HIS ASSASSINATION,
+death and burial, together with the trial and execution of his
+assassins.
+
+This immense volume of 850 pages contains nearly 360,000 words, being
+six times larger than the average school history. Size of book 6-1/2x9,
+3 inches thick, weighing nearly 3 pounds.
+
+Price, $1.00
+
+Sent postpaid to any address in the United States, Canada or Mexico upon
+receipt of price, in currency, express or postal money order or stamps.
+
+M. A. Donohue & Co.
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+
+
+
+
+THE COMPLETE GUIDE TO BLACKSMITHING, HORSESHOEING, CARRIAGE AND WAGON
+BUILDING AND PAINTING
+
+[Illustration]
+
+For all general mechanical work, this is the most valuable book for the
+farmer, blacksmith, carpenter, carriage and wagon building, painting and
+varnishing trades published. The department on Blacksmithing is based on
+the various text books by Prof. A. Lungwitz, Director of the Shoeing
+School of the Royal Veterinary College at Dresden, while the chapters on
+Carriage and Wagon Building, Painting, Varnishing are by Charles F.
+Adams, one of the most successful builders in Wisconsin. The language
+employed is so simple that any young man of average ability can, in a
+short time become proficient in all of these useful and profitable
+occupations. Each chapter is fully illustrated, there being more than 50
+drawings throughout the book.
+
+Full Cloth Binding, Price, $1.00
+
+THE COMPLETE HOUSE BUILDER
+With Practical Hints on Construction
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The subject of house building is of interest to all, even though
+financially they are at present unable to realize their cherished hopes.
+A few months or a year may so change the aspect of one's affairs as to
+render it possible to build. It is therefore well for all to anticipate
+the realization of a home and become familiar with the requisites of a
+good house, barn, warehouse or other necessary building. This valuable
+work contains not only Plans and Specifications for Dwellings, but
+Clubs, Churches, Public Buildings, Barns, and all necessary outbuildings
+for Farms, Country Seats, Suburban Homes, etc.; accurate estimates of
+materials with cost, and all Tables and Rules necessary in Plastering,
+Plumbing, Painting, Roofing, Masonry, Cornice, Windows, Doors and Porch
+Materials, with 50 plans and Specifications on buildings from $476
+given. 376 pages, 12mo.
+
+Paper, 25 Cents; Cloth, 50 Cents.
+
+For sale by all Book and News Dealers, or will be sent to any address in
+the U. S., Canada or Mexico, postage paid, on receipt of price, in
+currency, money order or stamps.
+
+M.A. DONOHUE & CO.
+407-429 DEARBORN ST.
+CHICAGO
+
+
+
+
+COMPLETE HYPNOTISM
+Or, How to Hypnotize
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A manual of self-instruction based on the new and improved system of
+mental and bodily healing. Pronounced by all who have read it to be the
+most fascinating and instructive book of its kind published. Inductive
+Hypnotism, Mesmerism, Suggestive Therapeutics and Magnetic Healing,
+including Telepathy, Mind Reading and Spiritualism fully treated. Nearly
+100 lessons especially prepared for self-instruction. This is positively
+the best book on Hypnotism published. Fully illustrated.
+
+Paper covers, 25 cents; Cloth, 50 cents.
+
+THE COMPLETE PALMIST
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Prepared for self-instruction by Ina Oxenford, the world-renowned author
+and acknowledged authority on Palmistry. This is the simplest
+presentation of the science of Modern Palmistry published. There is no
+trait, no characteristic, no inherited tendency that is not marked on
+the palm of the hand and can be traced with unerring accuracy by
+following the instructions given in this book. Even a casual reading
+will enable one to know his own character better and give convincing
+proof of the constancy of friends, or the professing ones. The Bible
+attests the truth of Palmistry.
+
+Paper covers, 25 cents; Cloth, 50 cents.
+
+THE MYSTIC FORTUNE TELLER,
+Dream Book and Policy Players' Guide
+
+[Illustration]
+
+This book contains an alphabetical list of dreams with their
+significations and lucky numbers, and the getting of fortunes by the
+Mystic Circle, Cards Dice, Coffee and Tea Grounds, etc. Also a list of
+curious superstitions and omens, birthdays, lucky day, their
+significance and their numbers. It is unquestionably the best and most
+reliable book of its kind published and is worth many times the price
+asked for it.
+
+Paper covers, 25 cents; Cloth, 50 cents.
+
+For sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any address in
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+postal or express money order.
+
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+407-429 Dearborn Street
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+
+
+
+
+COMIC READINGS AND RECITATIONS
+Compiled by CHARLES WALTER. BROWN, A. M.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Few of the selections contained in this book have ever before appeared
+in print. Copyright matter has been procured at great expense from the
+greatest wits of the age. Such delightful entertainers as Ezra Kendall,
+Lew Dockstadter, Josh Billings, James Whitcomb Kiley, Marshall P.
+Wilder, Mark Twain, Bret Harte, Opie Read, Bill Nye, Petroleum V.
+Nashby, Artemus Ward, together with the best from "Puck," "Judge,"
+"Life," "Detroit Free Press," "Arizona Kicker," renders this book the
+best of its kind published.
+
+Paper covers, printed in two colors on enameled paper, 25 cents.
+Cloth, gold titles, original designs, stamped in inks, 50 cents.
+
+THE AMERICAN STAR SPEAKER AND MODEL ELOCUTIONIST
+By CHARLES WALTER. BROWN, A. M.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Many Speakers are advertised to be the best, but a comparison is all
+that is necessary to convince anyone that our claim that The American
+Star Speaker & Model Elocutionist is beyond all question the best from
+an Elocutionary point of view. Of the 500 or more selections there is
+not one that is not available for reading on any desired occasion. The
+treatise on Acting, Delsarte, Elocution, Oratory and Physical Culture is
+by the professor of these departments in the Missouri State University,
+while its mechanical make-up is that of a work of art, for the text and
+half-tone illustrations are the best made. No home, school, church,
+club, literary society, lodge or library is complete without this book.
+It gives more for the money than any similar work published. Space
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+Price, $1.00
+
+For sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any address in
+the United States, Canada or Mexico upon receipt of price in currency,
+postal or express money order.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
+407-429 Dearborn St.,
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+DOROTHY VERNON
+or, THE BEAUTY of HADDON HALL
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+The author has produced a powerful love story, replete with stirring
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+
+12mo, Paper   Price, $0.35
+12mo, Cloth     "     1.00
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+SWEET DANGER
+By Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
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+
+12mo, Paper   Price, $0.50
+12mo, Cloth     "     1.25
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+MADAME DUBARRY, The King's Mistress
+by George Moorehead.
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+Mrs. Leslie Carter, the famous American actress, having selected
+Madame Dubarry as the central figure in her new play, the life story
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+universal interest to American readers.
+
+12mo, Paper   Price, $0.50
+12mo, Cloth     "     1.25
+
+TOLD BY TWO
+By Marie St. Felix
+
+Author of "Little Game With Destiny," "Two Bad Brown Eyes,"
+"Patricia," Etc.
+
+This book is full of thrilling romance, with innumerable happenings to a
+giddy young married woman of New York and a bachelor from Boston. Plenty
+of rich, spicy dialogue--it is replete with up-to-date expletives.
+Lovers of realistic fiction will revel in this literary feast.
+
+12mo, Paper   Price, $0.50
+12mo, Cloth     "     1.25
+
+ANY THREE IN PAPER COVERS FOR $1.00, OR THE 4 FOR $1.30
+
+Sent postpaid to any address in the United States, Canada or Mexico
+upon receipt of price, in currency, express or postal money order or
+stamps.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
+407-429 Dearborn St.,
+CHICAGO
+
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+FAMOUS BOOKS FOR BOYS
+
+These are new and superior editions of these famous authors' books for
+boys. They are printed from new plates on an excellent quality of paper
+while many are profusely illustrated. Each book is sewed, thus making a
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+and a comfort. The covers are printed in two colors from appropriate
+designs on a heavy coated enameled paper in assorted colors.
+
+FROM THE MODERN AUTHORS' LIBRARY
+
+By Q. A. Henty
+
+260 Boy Knight, A
+271 Cornet of Horse
+280 Facing Death
+285 Final Reckoning
+295 In Freedom's Cause
+298 In Times of Peril
+297 In the Reign of Terror
+299 Jack Archer
+317 One of the 28th
+318 Orange and Green
+319 Out on the Pampas
+337 True to the Old Flag
+349 Under Drake's Flag
+348 With Lee in Virginia
+
+By J. Fenimore Cooper
+
+170 Last of the Mohicans, The
+178 Pathfinder, The
+179 Pioneers, The
+180 Prairie, The
+187 Spy, The
+354 Deerslayer
+
+By Victor Hugo
+
+ 36 By Order of the King
+272 Cosette
+283 Fantine
+106 Hans of Iceland
+ 37 History of a Crime
+300 Jean Valjean
+308 Marins
+ 38 Ninety-Three
+ 39 Notre Dame de Paris
+331 St. Denis
+ 40 Toilers of the Sea
+
+By Emile Gaboriau
+
+284 File No. 113--
+287 Gilded Clique
+108 Lecoq, the Detective
+199 Lerouge Case, The
+312 Mystery of Orcival
+
+By Jules Verne
+
+245 Michael Strogoff
+219 Mysterious Island
+180 Tour of the World in 80 Days
+121 Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
+
+By H. Rider Haggard
+
+158 Allan Quatermain
+223 Allan's Wife
+160 Cleopatra
+100 Jess
+167 King Solomon's Mines
+112 Miawa's Revenge
+244 Mr. Meeson's Will
+186 She
+
+Price, Postpaid 25c Each or Any Five for $1.00
+
+For sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any address in
+the United States, Canada or Mexico upon receipt of price in currency,
+stamps, postal or express money order.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
+407-429 Dearborn St., CHICAGO
+
+
+
+
+FORTUNE TELLING, MAGIC, TABLEAUX, PANTOMIMES, PLAYS, SPEAKERS, ETC.
+
+Twentieth Century Wonder Book
+By Wm. C. Hunter
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A store-house of wonderful things for the entertainment, instruction,
+information and amusement of the home circle. A book for everybody;
+embracing riddles, conundrums and autograph album mottoes, lessons in
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+and how to define them, charms, charades, how to delineate character,
+signs, omens, fortune telling, etc., etc. The most wonderful book ever
+compiled.
+
+Bound in Cloth....50c.
+Bound in Paper....25c.
+
+DEARBORN SPEAKER
+
+182 Pages
+12mo, Cloth
+
+Embracing original and select readings, recitations, declamations and
+dialogues, with introductory observations of eminent elocutionists and
+dramatists on the study and practice of elocution. Printed from new
+plates, substantially bound, with title stamped in gold.
+
+Price....75c.
+
+TOMMY'S FIRST SPEAKER
+
+160 Pages, 12mo, Cloth
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Containing selections for boys and girls that are simple, serious,
+quaint and pleasant and so short that they can be easily memorized.
+Over 300 selections, bound in art vellum cloth, titles stamped on the
+front.
+
+Price....50c.
+
+TOMMY'S SECOND SPEAKER
+
+160 Pages, 12mo, Cloth
+
+Comprising selections for boys and girls of a more advanced age than
+those for whom Tommy's First Speaker was written Over 200 selections,
+bound in art vellum cloth, title stamped on front cover in ink from
+ornamental design.
+
+Price....50c.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO., CHICAGO.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Not Like Other Girls, by Rosa N. Carey
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Not Like Other Girls, by Rosa N. Carey
+
+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: Not Like Other Girls
+
+Author: Rosa N. Carey
+
+Release Date: March 31, 2009 [EBook #28463]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS ***
+
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+
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+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
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+
+
+<p class='tp' style='font-size:2em; margin-top:.4em; margin-bottom:4em;'>Not Like Other Girls</p>
+<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em;'>BY</p>
+<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:0.5em;'>ROSA N. CAREY</p>
+<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:0.5em;'>AUTHOR OF</p>
+<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:8em;'>
+&#8220;Aunt Diana,&#8221; &#8220;Averil,&#8221; &#8220;Lover or Friend,&#8221; &#8220;Merle&#8217;s Crusade,&#8221;<br />
+&#8220;Esther,&#8221; &#8220;Mary St. John,&#8221; &#8220;Queenie&#8217;s Whim,&#8221;<br />&#8220;We Wifie,&#8221; Etc., Etc.</p>
+<p class='tp'>CHICAGO</p>
+<p class='tp'>M. A. DONOHUE &amp; COMPANY</p>
+<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:2em;'>407-429 Dearborn Street</p>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-emb.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 176px; height: 74px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<h3>CONTENTS</h3>
+<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Five-o&#8217;clock Tea.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_FIVEOCLOCK_TEA'>7</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Dick objects to the Mountains.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_DICK_OBJECTS_TO_THE_MOUNTAINS'>14</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Mr. Mayne makes Himself Disagreeable.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_MR_MAYNE_MAKES_HIMSELF_DISAGREEABLE'>22</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Dick&#8217;s Fête.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_DICKS_FTE'>28</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;I am Quite Sure of Him.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_I_AM_QUITE_SURE_OF_HIM'>35</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Mr. Trinder&#8217;s Visit.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_MR_TRINDERS_VISIT'>41</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Phillis&#8217;s Catechism.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_PHILLISS_CATECHISM'>48</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;We should have to carry Parcels.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_WE_SHOULD_HAVE_TO_CARRY_PARCELS'>55</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Long Day.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_A_LONG_DAY'>62</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Friary.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_THE_FRIARY'>68</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;Tell us all about it, Nan.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_TELL_US_ALL_ABOUT_IT_NAN'>77</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;Laddie&#8221; puts in an Appearance.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII_LADDIE_PUTS_IN_AN_APPEARANCE'>85</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;I must have Grace.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII_I_MUST_HAVE_GRACE'>91</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;You can dare to tell me These Things.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIV_YOU_CAN_DARE_TO_TELL_ME_THESE_THINGS'>99</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Van in the Braidwood Road.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XV_A_VAN_IN_THE_BRAIDWOOD_ROAD'>108</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Visit to the White House.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVI_A_VISIT_TO_THE_WHITE_HOUSE'>118</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;A Friend in Need.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVII_A_FRIEND_IN_NEED'>124</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Dorothy brings in the Best China.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII_DOROTHY_BRINGS_IN_THE_BEST_CHINA'>132</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIX.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Archie is in a Bad Humor.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIX_ARCHIE_IS_IN_A_BAD_HUMOR'>139</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XX.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;You are Romantic.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XX_YOU_ARE_ROMANTIC'>147</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Breaking the Peace.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXI_BREAKING_THE_PEACE'>154</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;Trimmings, not Squails.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXII_TRIMMINGS_NOT_SQUAILS'>162</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;Bravo, Atalanta!&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIII_BRAVO_ATALANTA'>167</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Mothers are Mothers.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIV_MOTHERS_ARE_MOTHERS'>174</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Mattie&#8217;s New Dress.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXV_MATTIES_NEW_DRESS'>181</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXVI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;Oh, You are Proud!&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXVI_OH_YOU_ARE_PROUD'>189</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXVII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Dark Hour.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXVII_A_DARK_HOUR'>196</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXVIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Mysterious Stranger.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXVIII_THE_MYSTERIOUS_STRANGER'>202</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIX.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Mrs. Williams&#8217;s Lodger.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIX_MRS_WILLIAMSS_LODGER'>210</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXX.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;Now we understand Each Other.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXX_NOW_WE_UNDERSTAND_EACH_OTHER'>219</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXXI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Dick thinks of the City.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXI_DICK_THINKS_OF_THE_CITY'>226</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXXII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;Dick is to be our Real Brother.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXII_DICK_IS_TO_BE_OUR_REAL_BROTHER'>232</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXXIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;This is Life and Death to Me.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXIII_THIS_IS_LIFE_AND_DEATH_TO_ME'>240</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXXIV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Miss Mewlstone has an Interruption.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXIV_MISS_MEWLSTONE_HAS_AN_INTERRUPTION'>248</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXXV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;Barby, don&#8217;t You recollect Me?&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXXV_BARBY_DONT_YOU_RECOLLECT_ME'>255</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXXVI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Motes in the Sunshine.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXVI_MOTES_IN_THE_SUNSHINE'>262</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXXVII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;A Man has a Right to His Own Thoughts.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXVII_A_MAN_HAS_A_RIGHT_TO_HIS_OWN_THOUGHTS'>268</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXXVIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>About Nothing Particular.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXVIII_ABOUT_NOTHING_PARTICULAR'>277</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXXIX.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;How do you do, Aunt Catherine?&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXIX_HOW_DO_YOU_DO_AUNT_CATHERINE'>283</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XL.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Alcides.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XL_ALCIDES'>292</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XLI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Sir Harry Bides his Time.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XLI_SIR_HARRY_BIDES_HIS_TIME'>299</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XLII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;Come, now, I call that Hard.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XLII_COME_NOW_I_CALL_THAT_HARD'>307</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XLIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;I will write no such Letter.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XLIII_I_WILL_WRITE_NO_SUCH_LETTER'>315</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XLIV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Mr. Mayne orders a Basin of Gruel.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XLIV_MR_MAYNE_ORDERS_A_BASIN_OF_GRUEL'>321</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XLV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>An Uninvited Guest.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XLV_AN_UNINVITED_GUEST'>328</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XLVI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A New Invasion of the Goths.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XLVI_A_NEW_INVASION_OF_THE_GOTHS'>336</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XLVII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>&#8220;It was so Good of You to ask me Here.&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XLVII_IT_WAS_SO_GOOD_OF_YOU_TO_ASK_ME_HERE'>343</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XLVIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Mrs. Sparsit&#8217;s Poodle.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XLVIII_MRS_SPARSITS_POODLE'>349</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XLIX.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Mattie in a New Character.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XLIX_MATTIE_IN_A_NEW_CHARACTER'>356</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>L.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Phillis&#8217;s Favorite Month.</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_L_PHILLISS_FAVORITE_MONTH'>362</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<h2>NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS</h2>
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_I_FIVEOCLOCK_TEA' id='CHAPTER_I_FIVEOCLOCK_TEA'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+<h3>FIVE-O&#8217;CLOCK TEA.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Five-o&#8217;clock tea was a great institution in Oldfield.</p>
+<p>It was a form of refreshment to which the female inhabitants
+of that delightful place were strongly addicted. In vain did
+Dr. Weatherby, the great authority in all that concerned the
+health of the neighborhood, lift up his voice against the mild
+feminine dram-drinking of these modern days, denouncing it in
+no measured terms: the ladies of Oldfield listened incredulously,
+and, softly quoting Cowper&#8217;s lines as to the &#8220;cup that cheers
+and not inebriates,&#8221; still presided over their dainty little tea-tables,
+and vied with one another in the beauty of their china
+and the flavor of their highly-scented Pekoe.</p>
+<p>In spite of Dr. Weatherby&#8217;s sneers and innuendoes, a great
+deal of valuable time was spent in lingering in one or another
+of the pleasant drawing-rooms of the place. As the magic hour
+approached, people dropped in casually. The elder ladies sipped
+their tea and gossiped softly; the younger ones, if it were
+summer-time, strolled out through the open windows into the
+garden. Most of the houses had tennis-grounds, and it was
+quite an understood thing that a game should be played before
+they separated.</p>
+<p>With some few exceptions, the inhabitants of Oldfield were
+wealthy people. Handsome houses standing in their own
+grounds were dotted here and there among the lanes and country
+roads. Some of the big houses belonged to very big people
+indeed; but these were aristocrats who only lived in their country
+houses a few months in the year, and whose presence added
+more to the dignity than to the hilarity of the neighborhood.</p>
+<p>With these exceptions, the Oldfield people were highly
+gregarious and hospitable; in spite of a few peculiarities, they
+had their good points; a great deal of gossip prevailed, but it
+was in the main harmless and good-natured. There was a
+wonderful simplicity of dress, too, which in these days might
+be termed a cardinal virtue. The girls wore their fresh cambrics
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span>
+and plain straw hats: no one seemed to think it necessary to
+put on smart clothing when they wished to visit their friends.
+People said this Arcadian simplicity was just as studied: nevertheless,
+it showed perfection of taste and a just appreciation of
+things.</p>
+<p>The house that was considered the most attractive in Oldfield,
+and where, on summer afternoons, the sound of youthful voices
+and laughter were the loudest, was Glen Cottage, a small white
+house adjoining the long village street, belonging to a certain
+Mrs. Challoner, who lived here with her three daughters.</p>
+<p>This may be accounted strange in the first instance, since the
+Challoners were people of the most limited income,&mdash;an income
+so small that nothing but the most modest of entertainments
+could be furnished to their friends; very different from their
+neighbors at Longmead, the large white house adjoining, where
+sumptuous dinners and regular evening parties were given in the
+dark days when pleasures were few and tennis impossible.</p>
+<p>People said it was very good-natured of the Maynes; but then
+when there is an only child in the case, an honest, pleasure-loving,
+gay young fellow, on whom his parents dote, what is it
+they will not do to please their own flesh and blood? and, as
+young Richard Mayne&mdash;or Dick, as he was always called&mdash;loved
+all such festive gatherings, Mrs. Mayne loved them too; and
+her husband tried to persuade himself that his tastes lay in the
+same direction, only reserving certain groans for private use,
+that Dick could not be happy without a houseful of young
+people.</p>
+<p>But no such entertainments were possible at Glen Cottage:
+nevertheless, the youth of the neighborhood flocked eagerly into
+the pleasant drawing-room where Mrs. Challoner sat tranquilly
+summer and winter to welcome her friends, or betook themselves
+through the open French windows into the old-fashioned garden,
+in which mother and daughters took such pride.</p>
+<p>On hot afternoons the tea-table was spread under an acacia-tree,
+low wicker-chairs were brought out, and rugs spread on
+the lawn, and Nan and her sisters dispensed strawberries and
+cream, with the delicious home-made bread and butter; while
+Mrs. Challoner sat among a few chosen spirits knitting and talking
+in her pleasant low-toned voice, quite content that the burden
+of responsibility should rest upon her daughters.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner always smiled when people told her that she
+ought to be proud of her girls. No daughters were ever so
+much to their mother as hers; she simply lived in and for them;
+she saw with their eyes, thought with their thoughts,&mdash;was
+hardly herself at all, but Nan and Phillis and Dulce, each by
+turns.</p>
+<p>Long ago they had grown up to her growth. Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s
+nature was hardly a self-sufficing one. During her husband&#8217;s
+lifetime she had been braced by his influence and cheered by his
+example, and had sought to guide her children according to his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span>
+directions; in a word, his manly strength had so supported her
+that no one, not even her shrewd young daughters, guessed at
+the interior weakness.</p>
+<p>When her stay was removed, Mrs. Challoner ceased to guide,
+and came down to her children&#8217;s level. She was more like their
+sister than their mother, people said; and yet no mother was
+more cherished than she.</p>
+<p>Her very weakness made her sacred in her daughters&#8217; eyes;
+her widowhood, and a certain failure of health, made her the
+subject of their choicest care.</p>
+<p>It could not be said that there was much amiss, but years
+ago a doctor whom Mrs. Challoner had consulted had looked
+grave, and mentioned the name of a disease of which certain
+symptoms reminded him. There was no ground for present
+apprehension; the whole thing was very shadowy and unsubstantial,&mdash;a
+mere hint,&mdash;a question of care; nevertheless the
+word had been said, and the mischief done.</p>
+<p>From that time Mrs. Challoner was wont to speak gloomily
+of her health, as of one doomed. She was by nature languid
+and lymphatic, but now her languor increased; always averse
+to effort, she now left all action to her daughters. It was they
+who decided and regulated the affairs of their modest household,
+and rarely were such wise young rulers to be found in girls of
+their age. Mrs. Challoner merely acquiesced, for in Glen Cottage
+there was seldom a dissentient voice, unless it were that of
+Dorothy, who had been Dulce&#8217;s nurse, and took upon herself the
+airs of an old servant who could not be replaced.</p>
+<p>They were all pretty girls, the three Misses Challoner, but Nan
+was <i>par excellence</i> the prettiest. No one could deny that fact
+who saw them together. Her features were more regular than
+her sisters&#8217;, and her color more transparent. She was tall
+too, and her figure had a certain willowy grace that was most
+uncommon; but what attracted people most was a frankness
+and unconsciousness of manner that was perfectly charming.</p>
+<p>Phillis, the second sister, was not absolutely pretty, perhaps,
+but she was nice-looking, and there was something in her expression
+that made people say she was clever; she could talk on
+occasions with a fluency that was quite surprising, and that
+would cast Nan into the shade. &#8220;If I were only as clever as
+Phillis!&#8221; Nan would sigh.</p>
+<p>Then there was Dulce, who was only just eighteen, and whom
+her sisters treated as the family pet; who was light and small
+and nimble in her movements, and looked even younger than
+she really was.</p>
+<p>Nobody ever noticed if Dulce were pretty; and one questioned
+if her features were regular or not, or cared to do such a thing.
+Only when she smiled, the prettiest dimple came into her cheek,
+and her eyes had a fearless child-like look in them; for the rest,
+she was just Dulce.</p>
+<p>The good-looking daughters of a good-looking mother, as somebody
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span>
+called them; and there was no denying Mrs. Challoner
+was still wonderfully well preserved, and, in spite of her languor
+and invalid airs, a very pretty woman.</p>
+<p>Five-o&#8217;clock tea had long been over at the cottage this afternoon,
+and a somewhat lengthy game of tennis had followed;
+after which the visitors had dispersed as usual, and the girls had
+come in to prepare for the half-past seven-o&#8217;clock dinner; for
+Glen Cottage followed the fashion of its richer neighbors, and
+set out its frugal meal with a proper accompaniment of flower-vases
+and evening toilet.</p>
+<p>The three sisters came up the lawn together, but Nan carried
+her racquet a little languidly; she looked a trifle grave.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner laid down her knitting and looked at them,
+and then she regarded her watch plaintively.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is it late, mother?&#8221; asked Nan, who never missed any of
+her mother&#8217;s movements. &#8220;Ten minutes past seven! No
+wonder the afternoon seemed long.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No one found it long but Nan,&#8221; observed Dulce, with an
+arch glance at her sister at which Nan slightly colored, but
+took no further notice. &#8220;By the bye,&#8221; she continued, as though
+struck by a sudden recollection, &#8220;what can have become of
+Dick this afternoon? he so seldom fails us without telling us
+beforehand.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That will soon be explained,&#8221; observed Phillis, oracularly,
+as the gate-bell sounded, and was immediately followed by
+sharp footsteps on the gravel and the unceremonious entrance
+of a young man through the open window.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Better late than never,&#8221; exclaimed two of the girls. Nan
+said, &#8220;Why, what has made you play truant, Dick?&#8221; in a
+slightly injured voice. But Mrs. Challoner merely smiled at
+him, and said nothing; young men were her natural enemies,
+and she knew it. She was civil to them and endured their
+company, and that was all.</p>
+<p>Dick Mayne was not a formidable-looking individual; he was
+a strong, thick-set young fellow, with broad shoulders, not much
+above middle height, and decidedly plain, except in his mother&#8217;s
+eyes; and she thought even Dick&#8217;s sandy hair beautiful.</p>
+<p>But in spite of his plainness he was a pleasant, well-bred young
+fellow, with a fund of good humor and drollery, and a pair of
+honest eyes that people learned to trust. Every one liked him,
+and no one ever said a word in his dispraise; and for the rest,
+he could tyrannize as royally as any other young man who is
+his family&#8217;s sole blessing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was all my ill luck,&#8221; grumbled Dick. &#8220;Trevanion of
+Exeter came over to our place, and of course the mater pressed
+him to stay for luncheon, and then nothing would do but a long
+walk over Hillberry Downs.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why did you not bring him here?&#8221; interrupted Dulce, with
+a pout. &#8220;You tiresome Dick, when you must know what a
+godsend a strange young man is in these wilds!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear!&#8221; reproved her mother.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, but it is true, mamma,&#8221; persisted the outspoken Dulce.
+&#8220;Think how pleased Carrie and Sophy Paine would have been
+at the sight of a fresh face! it was horrid of you, sir!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wanted him to come,&#8221; returned the young man, in a deprecating
+voice. &#8220;I told him how awfully jolly it always is
+here, and that he would be sure to meet a lot of nice people, but
+there was no persuading him: he wanted a walk and a talk
+about our fellows. That is the worst of Trevanion, he always
+will have his own way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never mind,&#8221; returned Nan, pleasantly; she seemed to have
+recovered her sprightliness all at once. &#8220;It is very good of you
+to come so often; and we had Mr. Parker and his cousin to look
+after the Paines.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes! we did very well,&#8221; observed Phillis, tranquilly.
+&#8220;Mother, now Dick has come so late, he had better stay.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If I only may do so?&#8221; returned Dick; but his inquiry was
+directed to Nan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, you may stay,&#8221; she remarked, carelessly, as she
+moved away; but there was a little pleased smile on her face
+that he failed to see. She nodded pleasantly to him as he darted
+forward to open the door. It was Nan who always dispensed
+the hospitalities of the house, whose decision was unalterable.
+Dick had learned what it was to be sent about his business; only
+once had he dared to remain without her sovereign permission,
+and on that occasion he had been treated by her with such dignified
+politeness that he would rather have been sent to Coventry.</p>
+<p>This evening the fates were propitious, and Dick understood
+that the sceptre of favor was to be extended to him. When
+the girls had flitted into the little dusky hall he closed the door,
+and sat down happily bedside Mrs. Challoner, to whom he descanted
+eloquently of the beauties of Hilberry and the virtues
+of Ned Trevanion.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner listened placidly as the knitting-needles flashed
+between her long white fingers. She was very fond of Dick,
+after her temperate fashion; she had known him from a child,
+and had seen him grow up among them until he had become like
+a son of the house. Dick, who had no brothers and sisters of his
+own, and whose parents had not married until they were long
+past youth, had adopted brotherly airs with the Challoner girls;
+they called each other by their Christian names, and he reposed
+in them the confidences that young men are wont to give to their
+belongings.</p>
+<p>With Nan this easy familiarity had of late merged into something
+different: a reserve, a timidity, a subtile suspicion of
+change had crept into their intimacy. Nan felt that Dick&#8217;s
+manner had altered, but somehow she liked it better: his was
+always a sweet bountiful nature, but now it seemed to have
+deepened into greater manliness. Dick was growing older;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span>
+Oxford training was polishing him. After each one of his brief
+absences Nan saw a greater change, a more marked deference,
+and secretly hoped that no one else noticed it. When the young
+undergraduate wrote dutiful letters home the longest messages
+were always for Nan; when he carried little offerings of flowers
+to his young neighbors, Nan&#8217;s bouquet was always the choicest;
+he distinguished her, too, on all occasions by those small nameless
+attentions which never fail to please.</p>
+<p>Nan kept her own counsel, and never spoke of these things.
+She said openly that Dick was very nice and very much improved,
+and that they always missed him sadly during the Oxford
+terms; but she never breathed a syllable that might make people
+suspect that this very ordinary young man with the sandy
+hair was more to her than other young men. Nevertheless
+Phillis and Dulce knew that such was the case, and Mrs. Challoner
+understood that the most dangerous enemy to her peace
+was this lively-spoken Dick.</p>
+<p>Dick was very amusing, for he was an eloquent young fellow:
+nevertheless Mrs. Challoner sighed more than once, and her attention
+visibly wandered; seeing which, Dick good-humoredly
+left off talking, and began inspecting the different articles in
+Nan&#8217;s work-basket.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid I have given your mother a headache,&#8221; he said
+when they were sitting round the circular table in the low,
+oddly-shaped dining-room. There was a corner cut off, and the
+windows were in unexpected places, which made it unlike other
+rooms; but Dick loved it better than the great dining-room at
+Longmead; and somehow it never had looked cosier to him
+than it did this evening. It was somewhat dark, owing to the
+shade of the veranda: so the lamp was lighted, and the pleasant
+scent of roses and lilies came through the open windows. A belated
+wasp hovered round the specimen glasses that Nan had
+filled; Dick tried to make havoc of the enemy with his table-napkin.
+The girls&#8217; white dresses suited their fresh young faces.
+Nan had fastened a crimson rose in her gown; Phillis and Dulce
+had knots of blue ribbon. &#8220;Trevanion does not know what he
+lost by his obstinacy,&#8221; thought Dick, as he glanced round the
+table.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What were you and the mother discussing?&#8221; asked Dulce,
+curiously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dick was telling me about his friend. He seemed a very
+superior young man,&#8221; returned Mrs. Challoner. &#8220;I suppose
+you have asked him for your party next week?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dick turned very red at this question. &#8220;Mater asked him,
+you may trust her for that. If it were not for father, I think
+she would turn the whole house out of the windows: every day
+some one fresh is invited.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How delightful! and all in your honor,&#8221; exclaimed Dulce,
+mischievously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That spoils the whole thing,&#8221; grumbled the heir of the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span>
+Maynes: &#8220;it is a perfect shame that a fellow cannot come
+of age quietly, without his people making this fuss. I begin to
+think I was a fool for my pains to refuse the ball.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed; just because you were afraid of the supper
+speeches,&#8221; laughed Dulce, &#8220;when we all wanted it so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;New mind,&#8221; returned Dick, sturdily; &#8220;the mater shall
+give us one in the winter, and we will have Godfrey&#8217;s band, and
+I will get all our fellows to come.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That will be delightful,&#8221; observed Nan, and her eyes sparkled,&mdash;already
+she saw herself led out for the first dance by the
+son of the house,&mdash;but Dulce interrupted her:</p>
+<p>&#8220;But all the same I wish Dick had not been so stupid about
+it. No one knows what may happen before the winter. I hate
+put-off things.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,&mdash;eh, Miss
+Dulce?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed; that proverb is truer than people think,&#8221; she
+replied, with a wise nod of her head. &#8220;Don&#8217;t you remember,
+Nan, when the Parkers&#8217; dance was put off, and then old Mr.
+Parker died; and nearly the same thing happened with the
+Normatons, only it was an uncle in that case.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Moral: never put off a dance, in case somebody dies.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, hush, please!&#8221; groaned Nan, in a shocked voice; &#8220;I
+don&#8217;t like to hear you talk about such dreadful things. After
+all, it is such delicious weather that I am not sure a garden-party
+will not be more enjoyable; and you know, Dulce, that
+we are to dance on the lawn if we like.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And supposing it should rain,&#8221; put in that extremely
+troublesome young person, at which suggestion Dick looked
+very gloomy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;In that case I think we must persuade Mrs. Mayne to clear
+a room for us,&#8221; returned Nan, cheerfully. &#8220;If your mother
+consults me,&#8221; she continued, addressing Dick, who visibly
+brightened at this, &#8220;I shall recommend her to empty the front
+drawing-room as much as possible. There is the grand piano,
+or the band might come in-doors; there will be plenty of room
+for the young people, and the non-dancers can be drafted off
+into the inner drawing-room and conservatory.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What a head you have!&#8221; exclaimed Dick, admiringly; and
+Phillis, who had not joined in the argument, was pleased to
+observe that she was quite of Nan&#8217;s opinion: dancing was
+imperative, and if the lawns were wet they must manage in-doors
+somehow. &#8220;It would never do for people to be bored and
+listless,&#8221; finished the young lady, sententiously, and such was
+Phillis&#8217;s cleverness that it was understood at once that the oracle
+had spoken; but then it was never known for Nan and Phillis
+to differ.</p>
+<p>Things being thus amicably arranged, the rest of the conversation
+flowed evenly on every other point, such as the arrangements
+of the tennis-matches in the large meadow, and the exact
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span>
+position of the marquees; but just as they were leaving the
+table Dick said another word to Nan in a somewhat low
+voice:</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is all very well, but this sort of thing does make a fellow
+feel such a conceited fool.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If I were you I would not think about it at all,&#8221; she returned,
+in her sensible way. &#8220;The neighborhood will expect something
+of the kind, and we owe a little to other people; then it pleases
+your mother to make a fuss, as you call it, and it would be too
+ungrateful to disappoint her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, perhaps you are right,&#8221; he returned, in a slightly
+mollified tone, for he was a modest young fellow, and the whole
+business had occasioned him some soreness of spirit. &#8220;Take it
+all in all, one has an awful lot to go through in life: there are
+the measles, you know, and whooping cough, and the dentist,
+and one&#8217;s examination, and no end of unpleasant things; but to
+be made by one&#8217;s own mother to feel like an idiot for a whole
+afternoon! Never mind; it can be got through somehow,&#8221;
+finished the young philosopher, with a sigh that sent Nan into
+a fit of laughter.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_II_DICK_OBJECTS_TO_THE_MOUNTAINS' id='CHAPTER_II_DICK_OBJECTS_TO_THE_MOUNTAINS'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+<h3>DICK OBJECTS TO THE MOUNTAINS.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>&#8220;Shall we have our usual stroll?&#8221; asked Phillis, as Nan and
+Dick joined her at the window.</p>
+<p>This was one of the customs at Glen Cottage. When any
+such fitting escort offered itself, the three girls would put on
+their hats, and, regardless of the evening dews and their crisp
+white dresses, would saunter, under Dick&#8217;s guidance through
+the quiet village, or down and up the country roads &#8220;just for
+a breath of air,&#8221; as they would say.</p>
+<p>It is only fair to Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s views of propriety to say
+that she would have trusted her three pretty daughters to no
+other young man but Dick; and of late certain prudential
+doubts had crossed her mind. It was all very well for Phillis
+to say Dick was Dick, and there was an end of it. After all, he
+belonged to the phalanx of her enemies, those shadowy invaders
+of her hearth that threatened her maternal peace. Dick was
+not a boy any longer; he had outgrown his hobbledehoy ways;
+the slight sandy moustache that he so proudly caressed was not
+a greater proof of his manhood than the undefinable change
+that had passed over his manners.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner began to distrust these evening strolls, and to
+turn over in her own mind various wary pretexts for detaining
+Nan on the next occasion.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Just this once, perhaps, it does not matter,&#8221; she murmured
+to herself, as she composed herself to her usual nap.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We shall not be long, little mother; so you must not be
+dull,&#8221; Dulce had said, kissing her lightly over her eyes. This
+was just one of the pleasant fictions at the cottage,&mdash;one of those
+graceful little deceptions that are so harmless in families.</p>
+<p>Dulce knew of those placid after-dinner naps. She knew her
+mother&#8217;s eyes would only unclose when Dorothy brought in the
+tea-tray; but she was also conscious that nothing would displease
+her mother more than to notice this habit. When they
+lingered in-doors, and talked in whispers so as not to disturb
+her, Mrs. Challoner had an extraordinary facility for striking
+into the conversation in a way that was somewhat confusing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t agree with you at all,&#8221; she would say, in a drowsy
+voice. &#8220;Is it not time for Dorothy to bring in the tea? I wish
+you would all talk louder. I must be getting a little deaf, I
+think, for I don&#8217;t hear half you say.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, it was only nonsense talk, mammie,&#8221; Dulce would answer;
+and the sisterly chit-chat would recommence, and her
+mother&#8217;s head nid-nodded on the cushions until the next interruption.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We shall not have many more of these strolls,&#8221; observed
+Dick, regretfully, as they all walked together through the village,
+and then branched off into a long country road, where the
+air blew freshly in their faces and low mists hung over the
+meadow land. Though it was not quite dark, there was a
+tiny moon, and the glimmer of a star or two; and there was
+a pleasant fragrance as of new-mown grass.</p>
+<p>They were all walking abreast, and keeping step, and Dick
+was in the middle, with Nan beside him. Dulce was hanging
+on to her arm, and every now and then breaking into little
+snatches of song.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How I envy you!&#8221; exclaimed Phillis. &#8220;Think of spending
+three whole months in Switzerland. Oh, you lucky Dick!&#8221;</p>
+<p>For the Maynes had decided to pass the long vacation in the
+Engadine. Some hints had been dropped that Nan should accompany
+them, but Mrs. Challoner had regarded the invitation
+with some disfavor, and Mrs. Mayne had not pressed the point.
+If only Nan had known! but her mother had in this matter
+kept her own counsel.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know about that,&#8221; dissented Dick; he was rather
+given to argue from the mere pleasure of opposition. &#8220;Mountains
+and glaciers are all very well in their way; but I think,
+on the whole, I would as soon be here. You see, I am so accustomed
+to mix with a lot of fellows, that I am afraid of finding
+the pater&#8217;s sole company rather slow.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;For shame!&#8221; remarked his usual monitress. But she spoke
+gently: in her heart she knew why Dick failed to find the
+mountains alluring.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why could not one of you girls join us?&#8221; he continued,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span>
+wrathfully. The rogue had fairly bullied the unwilling Mrs.
+Mayne into giving that invitation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do ask her, mother; she will be such a nice companion
+for you when the pater and I are doing our climbing; do, there&#8217;s
+a dear good soul!&#8221; he had coaxed. And the dear good soul,
+who was secretly jealous of Nan, and loved her about as much
+as mothers usually love an only son&#8217;s choice, had bewailed her
+hard fate in secret; and had then stepped over to the cottage
+with a bland and cheerful exterior, which grew more cheerful
+as Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s reluctance made itself felt.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is not wise; it will throw them so much together,&#8221; Nan&#8217;s
+mother had said. &#8220;If it were only Phillis or Dulce; but you
+must have noticed&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, I have noticed!&#8221; returned Mrs. Mayne, hastily.
+She was a stout, comely-looking woman, but beside Mrs. Challoner
+she looked like a housekeeper dressed in her mistress&#8217;s
+smart clothes. Mrs. Mayne&#8217;s dresses never seemed to belong to
+her; it could not be said that they fitted her ill, but there was
+a want of adaptability,&mdash;a lack of taste that failed to accord
+with her florid style of beauty.</p>
+<p>She had been a handsome woman when Richard Mayne married
+her, but a certain deepening of tints and broadening of contour
+had not improved the mistress of Longmead. Her husband
+was a decided contrast: he was a small, wiry man, with sharp
+features that expressed a great deal of shrewdness. Dick had
+got his sandy hair; but Richard Mayne the elder had not his
+son&#8217;s honest, kindly eyes. Mr. Mayne&#8217;s were small and twinkling;
+he had a way of looking at people between his half-closed
+lids, in a manner half sharp and half jocular.</p>
+<p>He was not vulgar, far from it; but he had a homely air about
+him that spoke of the self-made man. He was rather fond of telling
+people that his father had been in trade in a small way and
+that he himself had been the sole architect of his fortune.
+&#8220;Look at Dick,&#8221; he would say; &#8220;he would never have a penny,
+that fellow, unless I made it for him: he has come into the
+world to find his bread ready buttered. I had to be content
+with a crust as I could earn it. The lad&#8217;s a cut above us both,
+though he has the good taste to try and hide it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>This sagacious speech was very true. Dick would never
+have succeeded as a business man; he was too full of crotchets
+and speculations to be content to run in narrow grooves. The
+notion of money-making was abhorrent to him; the idea of a
+city life, with its hard rubs and drudgery, was utterly distasteful
+to him. &#8220;One would have to mix with such a lot of cads,&#8221;
+he would say. &#8220;English, pure and undefiled, is not always
+spoken. If I must work, I would rather have a turn at law or
+divinity; the three old women with the eye between them knows
+which.&#8221;</p>
+<p>It could not be denied that Dick winced a little at his father&#8217;s
+homely speeches; but in his heart he was both proud and fond
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span>
+of him, and was given to assert to a few of his closest friends
+&#8220;that, take it all in all, and looking at other fellows&#8217; fathers, he
+was a rattling good sort, and no mistake.&#8221;</p>
+<p>When Mrs. Challoner had entered her little protest against
+her daughter&#8217;s acceptance of the invitation, Mrs. Mayne had
+risen and kissed her with some effusion as she took her leave.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is so nice of you to say this to me; of course I should have
+been pleased, delighted to have had Nan with us&#8221; (oh, Mrs.
+Mayne, fie for shame! when you want your boy to yourself),
+&#8220;but all the same I think you are so wise.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor child! I am afraid I am refusing her a great treat,&#8221;
+returned Mrs. Challoner, in a tone of regret. It was the first
+time since her husband&#8217;s death that she had ever decided anything
+without reference to her daughters; but for once her maternal
+fears were up in arms, and drove her to sudden resolution.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, but, as you observed, it would throw them so entirely
+together; and Dick is so young. Richard was only saying the
+other night that he hoped the boy would not fancy himself in
+love for the next two years, as he did not approve of such early
+engagements.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Neither do I,&#8221; returned Mrs. Challoner, quickly. &#8220;Nothing
+would annoy me more than for one of my daughters to
+entangle herself with so young a man. We know the world too
+well for that, Mrs. Mayne. Why, Dick may fall in and out of
+love half a dozen times before he really makes up his mind.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, that is what Richard says,&#8221; returned Dick&#8217;s mother,
+with a sigh; in her heart she was not quite of her husband&#8217;s
+opinion. She remembered how that long waiting wasted her
+own youth,&mdash;waiting for what? For comforts that she would
+gladly have done without,&mdash;for a well-furnished house, when
+she would have lived happily in the poorest lodging with the
+Richard Mayne who had won her heart,&mdash;for whom she would
+have toiled and slaved with the self-abnegating devotion of a
+loving woman; only he feared to have it so.</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;When poverty enters the door, love flies out of the window:&#8217;
+we had better make up our minds to wait, Bessie. I can
+better work in single than double harness just now.&#8221; That was
+what he said to her, and Bessie waited,&mdash;not till she grew thin,
+but stout, and the spirit of her youth was gone; and it was
+a sober, middle-aged woman who took possession of the long-expected
+home.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Mayne loved her husband, but during that tedious engagement
+her ardor had a little cooled, and it may be doubted
+whether the younger Richard was not dearer to her than his
+father; which was ungrateful, to say the least of it, as Mr.
+Mayne doted on his comely wife, and thought Bessie as handsome
+now as in the days when she came out smiling to welcome
+him, a slim young creature with youthful roses in her cheeks.</p>
+<p>From this brief conversation it may be seen that none of the
+elders quite approved of this budding affection. Mrs. Challoner,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span>
+who belonged to a good old family, found it hard to forgive the
+Maynes&#8217; lowliness of birth; and though she liked Dick, she
+thought Nan could do better for herself. Mr. Mayne pooh-poohed
+the whole thing so entirely that the women could only
+speak of it among themselves.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dick is a clever fellow; he ought to marry money,&#8221; he would
+say. &#8220;I am not a millionaire, and a little more would be acceptable;&#8221;
+and though he was always kind to Nan and her sisters, he
+was forever dealing sly hits at her. &#8220;Phillis has the brains of the
+family,&#8221; he would say: &#8220;that is the girl for my money. I call
+her a vast deal better looking than Nan, though people make
+such a fuss about the other one;&#8221; a speech he was never tired
+of repeating in his son&#8217;s presence, and at which Dick snapped his
+fingers metaphorically and said nothing.</p>
+<p>When Dick wished that one of them were going to Switzerland,
+Nan sighed furtively. Dick was going away for three
+months, for the remainder of the long vacation. After next
+week they would not see him until Christmas,&mdash;nearly six
+months. A sense of dreariness, as new as it was strange, swept
+momentarily over Nan as she pondered this. The summer
+months would be grievously clouded. Dick had been the moving
+spirit of all the fun; the tennis-parties, the pleasant dawdling
+afternoons, would lose their zest when he was away.</p>
+<p>She remembered how persistently he had haunted their footsteps.
+When they paid visits to the Manor House, or Gardenhurst,
+or Fitzroy Lodge, Dick was sure to put in an appearance.
+People had nicknamed him the &#8220;Challoners&#8217; Squire;&#8221; but now
+Nan must go squireless for the rest of the summer, unless she
+took compassion on Stanley Parker, or that dreadful chatterbox
+his cousin.</p>
+<p>The male population was somewhat sparse at Oldfield. There
+were a few Eton boys, and one or two in that delightful transition
+age when youth is most bashful and uninteresting,&mdash;a sort
+of unfledged manhood, when the smooth boyish cheek contradicts
+the deepened bass of the voice,&mdash;an age that has not
+ceased to blush, and which is full of aggravating idosyncrasies
+and unexpected angles.</p>
+<p>To be sure, Lord Fitzroy was a splendid specimen of a young
+guardsman, but he had lately taken to himself a wife; and Sir
+Alfred Mostyn, who was also somewhat attractive and a very
+pleasant fellow, and unattached at present, had a tiresome habit
+of rushing off to Norway, or St. Petersburg, or Niagara, or the
+Rocky Mountains, for what he termed sport, or a lark.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It seems we are very stupid this evening,&#8221; observed Phillis
+for Dick had waxed almost as silent as Nan. &#8220;I think the
+mother must nearly have finished her nap, so I propose we go
+back and have some tea;&#8221; and, as Nan languidly acquiesced
+they turned their faces towards the village again, Dulce still
+holding firmly to Nan&#8217;s arm. By and by Dick struck out in a
+fresh direction.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I say, don&#8217;t you wish we could have last week over
+again?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes! oh, yes! was it not too delicious?&#8221; from the three
+girls; and Nan added, &#8220;I never enjoyed anything so much in
+my life,&#8221; in a tone so fervent that Dick was delighted.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What a brick your mother was, to be sure, to spare you
+all!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; and she was so dull, poor dear, all the time we were
+away. Dorothy gave us quite a pitiful account when we got
+home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was a treat one ought to remember all one&#8217;s life,&#8221; observed
+Phillis, quite solemnly; and then ensued a most animated
+discussion.</p>
+<p>The treat to which Phillis alluded had been simply perfect in
+the three girls&#8217; eyes. Dick, who never forgot his friends, had so
+worked upon his mother that she had consented to chaperon the
+three sisters during Commemoration; and a consent being
+fairly coaxed out of Mrs. Challoner, the plan was put into
+execution.</p>
+<p>Dick, who was in the seventh heaven of delight, found roomy
+lodgings in the High Street, in which he installed his enraptured
+guests.</p>
+<p>The five days that followed were simply hours snatched out of
+fairyland to these four happy young creatures. No wonder
+envious looks were cast at Dick as he walked in Christ Church
+Meadows with Nan and Dulce, Phillis bringing up the rear
+somewhat soberly with Mrs. Mayne.</p>
+<p>&#8220;One pretty face would content most fellows,&#8221; his friends
+grumbled; &#8220;but when you come to three, and not his own
+sisters either, why, it isn&#8217;t fair on other folk.&#8221; And to Dick
+they said, &#8220;Come, it is no use being so awfully close. Of course
+we see what&#8217;s up: you are a lucky dog. Which is it, Mayne?&mdash;the
+pretty one with the pink and white complexion or the
+quiet one in gray, or the one with the mischievous eyes?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Faix, they are all darlints and jewels, bless their purty
+faces!&#8221; drawled one young rogue, in his favorite brogue.
+&#8220;Here&#8217;s the top of the morning to ye, Mayne; and it is mavourneen
+with the brown eyes and the trick of the smile like the
+sunshine&#8217;s glint that has stolen poor Paddy&#8217;s heart.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, shut up, you fellows!&#8221; returned Dick, in a disgusted
+voice. &#8220;What is the good of your pretending to be Irish,
+Hamilton, when you are a canny Scotchman?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hoots, man, mind your clavers! You need not grizzle at
+a creature because he admires a wee gairl that is just beyond
+the lave,&mdash;a sonsie wee thing with a glint in her een like diamonds.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hamilton, will you leave off this foolery?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nae doubt, nae doubt; would his honor pe axing if he pe
+wrang in the head, puir thing? Never mind that, put pe giving
+me the skene-dhu, or I will fight with proud-swords like a gentleman
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span>
+for the bit lassie;&#8221; but here a wary movement on Dick&#8217;s
+part extinguished the torrent of Highland eloquence, and
+brought the canny Scotchman to the ground.</p>
+<p>Perfectly oblivious of all these compliments, the Challoners
+enjoyed themselves with the zest of healthy, happy English
+girls. They were simply indefatigable: poor Mrs. Mayne succumbed
+utterly before the fine days were over.</p>
+<p>They saw the procession of boats; they were at the flower-show
+at Worcester; Sunday afternoon found them in the Broad
+Walk; and the next night they were dancing at the University
+ball.</p>
+<p>They raved about the beauty of Magdalen cloisters; they
+looked down admiringly into the deer-park; Addison&#8217;s Walk
+became known to them, and the gardens of St. John&#8217;s. Phillis
+talked learnedly about Cardinal Wolsey as she stood in Christ
+Church hall: and in the theatre &#8220;the young ladies in pink&#8221;
+invoked the most continuous cheers.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Can they mean us?&#8221; whispered Dulce, rather alarmed,
+to their faithful escort Dick. &#8220;I don&#8217;t see any other pink
+dresses!&#8221;</p>
+<p>And Dick said, calmly,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I suppose so. Some of those fellows up there are such
+a trumpery lot.&#8221;</p>
+<p>So Dulce grew more reassured.</p>
+<p>But the greatest fun of all was the afternoon spent in Dick&#8217;s
+room, when all his special friends were bidden to five o&#8217;clock tea,
+over which Nan, in her white gown, presided so gracefully.</p>
+<p>What a dear, shabby old room it was, with old-fashioned window-seats,
+where one could look down into the quadrangle.
+Dick was an Oriel man, and thought his college superior even
+to Magdalen.</p>
+<p>It became almost too hot and crowded at last, so many were
+the invitations given; but then, as Dick said afterwards, &#8220;he
+was such a soft-hearted beggar that he could not refuse the fellows
+that pestered him for invitations.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Mayne, looking very proud and happy, sat fanning herself
+in one of these windows. Phillis and Dulce were in the
+other attended by that rogue Hamilton and half a dozen more.
+Nan was the centre of another clique, who hemmed her and the
+tea-table in so closely that Dick had to wander disconsolately
+round the outskirts: there was no getting a look from Nan that
+afternoon.</p>
+<p>How hot it was! It was a grand <i>coup</i> when the door opened
+and the scout made his appearance carrying a tray of ices.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is well to be Mayne!&#8221; half grumbled young Hamilton,
+as Dulce took one gratefully from his hand. &#8220;He is treating
+us like a prince, instead of the thin bread-and-butter entertainment
+he led us to expect. Put down that tea, Miss Challoner.
+I see iced claret-cup and strawberries in the corner. There is
+nothing like being an only child; doting parents are extremely
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span>
+useful articles. I am one of ten; would you believe it?&#8221; continued
+the garrulous youth. &#8220;When one has six brothers older
+than one&#8217;s self, I will leave you to imagine the consequences.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How nice!&#8221; returned Dulce, innocently; &#8220;I have always
+so longed for a brother. If it had not been for Dick, we should
+have had no one to do things for us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, indeed! Mayne is a sort of adopted brother!&#8221; observed
+her companion, looking at her rather sharply.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We have always looked upon him as one. We do just as we
+like with him,&mdash;scold and tease him, and send him on our errands;&#8221;
+which intelligence fairly convinced the envious Hamilton
+that the youngest Miss Challoner was not his friend&#8217;s fancy.</p>
+<p>Dick always recalled that evening with a sense of pride.
+How well and gracefully Nan had fulfilled her duties! how
+pretty she had looked, in spite of her flushed cheeks! He had
+never seen a girl to compare with her,&mdash;not he!</p>
+<p>They were so full of these delightful reminiscences that they
+were at the cottage gate before they knew it; and then Dick
+astonished them by refusing to come in. He had quite forgotten,
+he said, but his mother had asked him to come home early, as
+she was not feeling just the thing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Quite right; you must do as she wishes,&#8221; returned Nan,
+dismissing him far too readily, as he thought; but she said
+&#8220;Good-night!&#8221; with so kind a smile after that, that the foolish
+young fellow felt his pulses quicken.</p>
+<p>Dick lingered at the corner until the cottage door was closed,
+and then he raced down the Longmead shrubbery and set the
+house-bell pealing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They are in the library, I suppose?&#8221; he asked of the butler
+who admitted him; and, on receiving an answer in the affirmative,
+he dashed unceremoniously into the room, while his
+mother held up her finger and smiled at the truant.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You naughty boy, to be so late; and now you have spoiled
+you father&#8217;s nap!&#8221; she said, pretending to scold him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Tut! tut! what nonsense you talk sometimes!&#8221; said Mr.
+Mayne, rather crossly, as he stood on the hearth-rug rubbing his
+eyes. &#8220;I was not asleep, I will take my oath of that; only I
+wish Dick could sometimes enter a room without making people
+jump;&#8221; by which Dick knew that his father was in one of his
+contrary moods, when he could be very cross,&mdash;very cross indeed!</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span>
+<a name='CHAPTER_III_MR_MAYNE_MAKES_HIMSELF_DISAGREEABLE' id='CHAPTER_III_MR_MAYNE_MAKES_HIMSELF_DISAGREEABLE'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+<h3>MR. MAYNE MAKES HIMSELF DISAGREEABLE.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>The library at Longmead was a very pleasant room, and it was
+the custom of the family to retire thither on occasions when
+guests were not forthcoming, and Mr. Mayne could indulge in
+his favorite nap without fear of interruption.</p>
+<p>A certain simplicity, not to say homeliness, of manners prevailed
+in the house. It was understood among them that the dining-room
+was far too gorgeous for anything but occasions of
+ceremony. Mrs. Mayne, indeed, had had the good taste to cover
+the satin couches with pretty, fresh-looking cretonne, and had
+had arranged hanging cupboards of old china until it had been
+transformed into a charming apartment, notwithstanding which
+the library was declared to be the family-room, where the usual
+masculine assortment of litter could be regarded with indulgent
+eyes, and where papers and pamphlets lay in delightful confusion.</p>
+<p>Longmead was not a pretentious house&mdash;it was a moderate-sized
+residence, adapted to a gentleman of moderate means; but in
+summer no place could be more charming. The broad gravel
+walk before the house had a background of roses; hundreds
+of roses climbed up the railings or twined themselves about the
+steps: a tiny miniature lake, garnished with water-lilies, lay in
+the centre of the lawn; a group of old elm-trees was beside it;
+behind the house lay another lawn, and beyond were meadows
+where a few sheep were quietly grazing. Mr. Mayne, who
+found time hang a little heavily on his hands, prided himself a
+good deal on his poultry-yard and kitchen-garden. A great deal
+of his spare time was spent among his favorite Bantams and
+Dorkings, and in superintending his opinionated old gardener&mdash;on
+summer mornings he would be out among the dews in his
+old coat and planter&#8217;s hat, weeding among the gooseberry-bushes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is the early bird that finds the worm,&#8221; he would say,
+when Dick sauntered into the breakfast-room later on; for, in
+common with the youth of his generation, he had a wholesome
+horror of early rising, which he averred was one of the barbarous
+usages of the dark ages in which his elders had been bred.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never took any interest in worms, sir,&#8221; returned Dick,
+helping himself to a tempting rasher that had just been brought
+in hot for the pampered youth. &#8220;By the bye, have you seen
+Darwin&#8217;s work on &#8216;The Formation of Vegetable Mould&#8217;? he
+declares that worms have played a more important part in the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span>
+history of the world than most people would at first suppose:
+they were our earliest ploughmen.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, ah! indeed, very interesting!&#8221; observed his father,
+dryly; &#8220;but all the same, I beg to observe, no one succeeded in
+life who was not an early riser.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A sweeping assertion, and one I might be tempted to argue,
+if it were not for taking up your valuable time,&#8221; retorted Dick,
+lazily, but with a twinkle in his eye. &#8220;I know my constitution
+better than to trust myself out before the world is properly
+aired and dried. I am thinking it is less a case of worms than
+of rheumatism some early birds will be catching;&#8221; to which
+Mr. Mayne merely returned an ungracious &#8220;Pshaw!&#8221; and
+marched off, leaving his son to enjoy his breakfast in peace.</p>
+<p>When Dick entered the library on the evening in question,
+Mr. Mayne&#8217;s querulous observation as to the noisiness of his
+entrance convinced him at once that his father was in a very
+bad humor indeed, and that on this account it behooved him to
+be exceedingly cool.</p>
+<p>So he kissed his mother, who looked at him a little anxiously,
+and then sat down and turned out her work-basket, as he had
+done Nan&#8217;s two or three hours ago.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are late after all, Dick,&#8221; she said, with a little reproach
+in her voice. It was hardly a safe observation, to judge by
+her husband&#8217;s cloudy countenance; but the poor thing sometimes
+felt her evenings a trifle dull when Dick was away.
+Mr. Mayne would take up his paper, but his eyes soon closed
+over it; that habit of seeking for the early worm rather disposed
+him to somnolent evenings, during which his wife knitted
+and felt herself nodding off out of sheer <i>ennui</i> and dulness.
+These were not the hours she had planned during those
+years of waiting; she had told herself that Richard would
+read to her or talk to her as she sat over her work, that they
+would have so much to say to each other; but now, as she
+regarded his sleeping countenance evening after evening, it
+may be doubted whether matrimony was quite what she expected,
+since its bliss was so temperate and so strongly infused
+with drowsiness.</p>
+<p>Dick looked up innocently. &#8220;Am I late, mother?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, of course not,&#8221; returned his father, with a sneer; &#8220;it
+is not quite time to ring for Nicholson to bring our candles.
+Bessie, I think I should like some hot water to-night; I feel a
+little chilly.&#8221; And Bessie rang the bell obediently, and without
+any surprise in her manner. Mr. Mayne often woke up
+chilly from his long nap.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you going to have a &#8216;drap of the cratur&#8217;?&#8221; asked his
+son, with alacrity. &#8220;Well, I don&#8217;t mind joining you, and
+that&#8217;s the truth, for we have been dawdling about, and I am a
+trifle chilly myself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know I object to spirits for young men,&#8221; returned Mr.
+Mayne, severely: nevertheless he pushed the whiskey to Dick
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span>
+as soon as he had mixed his own glass, and his son followed his
+example.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am quite of your opinion, father,&#8221; he observed, as he regarded
+the handsome cut-glass decanter somewhat critically;
+&#8220;but there are exceptions to every rule, and when one is
+chilly&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wish you would make an exception and stay away from
+the cottage sometimes,&#8221; returned Mr. Mayne, with ill-suppressed
+impatience. &#8220;It was all very well when you were all young
+things together, but it is high time matters should be different.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dick executed a low whistle of surprise and dismay. He had
+no idea his father&#8217;s irritability had arisen from any definite
+cause. What a fool he had been to be so late! it might lead to
+some unpleasant discussion. Well, after all, if his father chose
+to be so disagreeable it was not his fault; and he was no longer
+a boy, to be chidden, or made to do this or that against his own
+will.</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne was sufficiently shrewd to see that his son was
+somewhat taken aback by this sudden onslaught, and he was
+not slow to press his advantage. He had wanted to give Dick
+a bit of his mind for some time, and after all there is no time
+like the present.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, it was all very well when you were a lot of children
+together,&#8221; he continued. &#8220;Of course, it is hard on you, Dick,
+having no brothers and sisters to keep you company; your
+mother and I were always sorry about that for your sake.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, don&#8217;t mention it,&#8221; interrupted Dick: &#8220;on the whole,
+I am best pleased as it is.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But it would have been better for you,&#8221; returned his father,
+sharply: &#8220;we should not have had all this fooling and humbug
+if you had had sisters of your own.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fooling and humbug!&#8221; repeated Dick, hotly; &#8220;I confess,
+sir, I don&#8217;t quite understand to what you are referring.&#8221; He
+was growing very angry, but his mother flung herself between
+the combatants.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t, my boy, don&#8217;t; you must not answer your father in
+that way. Richard, what makes you so hard on him to-night?
+It must be the gout, Dick: we had better send for Dr. Weatherby
+in the morning,&#8221; continued the anxious woman, with tears
+in her eyes, &#8220;for your dear father would never be so cross to
+you as this unless he were going to be ill.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stuff and nonsense, Bessie! Dr. Weatherby indeed!&#8221; but
+his voice was less wrathful. &#8220;What is it but fooling, I should
+like to know, for Dick to be daundering his time away with a
+parcel of girls as he does with these Challoners!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose you were never a young man yourself, sir.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, I was, my boy,&#8221; and the corners of Mr. Mayne&#8217;s
+mouth relaxed in spite of his efforts to keep serious. &#8220;I fell in
+love with your mother, and stuck to her for seven or eight
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span>
+years; but I did not make believe that I was brother to a lot of
+pretty girls, and waste all my time dancing attendance on them
+and running about on their errands.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You ought to have taken a lesson out of my book,&#8221; returned
+his son, readily.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, I ought to have done no such thing, sir!&#8221; shouted back
+Mr. Mayne, waxing irate again. It could not be denied that
+Dick could be excessively provoking when he liked. &#8220;Don&#8217;t I tell
+you it is time this sort of thing was stopped? Why, people will
+begin to talk, and say you are making up to one of them, it is
+not right, Dick; it is not, indeed,&#8221; with an attempted pathos.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t care that for what people say,&#8221; returned the young
+fellow, snapping his fingers. &#8220;Is it not a pity you are saying
+all this to me just when I am going away and am not likely to
+see any of them for the next six months? You are very hard
+on me to-night, father; and I can&#8217;t think what it is all about.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne was silent a moment, revolving his son&#8217;s pathetic
+speech. It was true he had been cross, and had said more than
+he had meant to say. He had not wished to hinder Dick&#8217;s innocent
+enjoyments; but if he were unknowingly picking flowers at
+the edge of a precipice, was it not his duty as a father to warn
+him?</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think I have been a little hard, my lad,&#8221; he said, candidly,
+&#8220;but there, you and your mother know my bark is worse than
+my bite. I only wanted to warn you; that&#8217;s all, Dick.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Warn me!&mdash;against what, sir?&#8221; asked the young man,
+quickly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Against falling in love, really, with one of the Challoner
+girls!&#8221; returned Mr. Mayne, trying to evade the fire of Dick&#8217;s
+eyes, and blustering a little in consequence. &#8220;Why, they have
+not a penny, one of them, and, if report be true, Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s
+money is very shakily invested. Paine told me so the
+other day. He said he should never wonder if a sudden crash
+came any minute.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is this true, Richard?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Paine declares it is; and think of Dick saddling himself
+with the support of a whole family!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It strikes me you are taking things very much for granted,&#8221;
+returned his son, trying to speak coolly, but flushing like a girl
+over his words. &#8220;I think you might wait, father, until I proposed
+bringing you home a daughter-in-law.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am only warning you, Dick, that the Challoner connection
+would be distasteful to me,&#8221; replied Mr. Mayne, feeling that he
+had gone a little too far. &#8220;If you had brothers and sisters it
+would not matter half so much; but it would be too hard if my
+only son were to cross my wishes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Should you disinherit me, father?&#8221; observed Dick, cheerfully.
+He had recovered his coolness and pluck, and began to
+feel more equal to the occasion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We should see about that, but I hardly think it would be
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span>
+for your advantage to oppose me too much,&#8221; returned his father
+with an ominous pucker of his eyebrows, which warned Dick,
+that it was hardly safe to chaff the old boy too much to-night.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think I will go to bed, Richard,&#8221; put in poor Mrs. Mayne.
+She had wisely forborne to mix in the discussion, fearing that
+it would bring upon her the vials of her husband&#8217;s wrath. Mr.
+Mayne was as choleric as a Welshman, and had a reserve force
+of sharp cynical sayings that were somewhat hard to bear. He
+was disposed to turn upon her on such occasions, and to accuse
+her of spoiling Dick and taking his part against his father;
+between the two Richards she sometimes had a very bad time
+indeed.</p>
+<p>Dick lighted his mother&#8217;s candle, and bade her good-night;
+but all the same she knew she had not seen the last of him. A
+few minutes afterwards there was a hasty tap at the bedroom
+door, and Dick thrust in his head.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come in, my dear; I have been expecting you,&#8221; she said,
+with a pleased smile. He always came to her when he was
+ruffled or put out, and brought her all his grievances; surely
+this was the very meaning and essence of her motherhood,&mdash;this
+healing and comfort that lay in her power of sympathy.</p>
+<p>When he was a little fellow, had she not extracted many a
+thorn and bound up many a cut finger? and now he was a man,
+would she be less helpful to him when he wanted a different
+kind of comfort?</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come in, my son,&#8221; she said, beckoning him to the low chair
+beside her, into which Dick threw himself with a petulant yawn.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother, what made the pater so hard on me to-night? he
+cut up as rough as though I had committed some crime.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think he is quite himself to-night,&#8221; returned Mrs.
+Mayne, in her soft, motherly voice. &#8220;I fancy he misses you,
+Dick, and is half jealous of the Challoners for monopolizing you.
+You are all we have, that&#8217;s where it is,&#8221; she finished, stroking
+the sandy head with her plump hand; but Dick jerked away
+from her with a little impatience.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think it rather hard that a fellow is to be bullied for doing
+nothing at all,&#8221; replied Dick, with a touch of sullenness. &#8220;When
+the pater is in this humor it is no use saying anything to him;
+but you may as well tell him, mother, that I mean to choose my
+wife for myself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my dear, I dare not tell him anything of the kind,&#8221;
+returned Mrs. Mayne, in an alarmed voice; and then, as she
+glanced at her son, her terror merged into amusement. There
+was something so absurdly boyish in Dick&#8217;s appearance, such a
+ludicrous contrast between the manliness of his speech and his
+smooth cheek; the little fringe of hirsute ornament, of which
+Dick was so proud, was hardly visible in the dim light; his
+youthful figure, more clumsy than graceful, had an unfledged
+air about it, nevertheless, the boldness of his words took away
+her breath.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Every man has a right to his own choice in such a matter,&#8221;
+continued Dick, loftily. &#8220;You may as well tell him, mother,
+that I intend to select my own wife.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear, I dare not for worlds&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; she began; and then she
+stopped, and laid her hand on his shoulder. &#8220;Why do you say
+this to me? there is plenty of time,&#8221; she went on hastily;
+&#8220;that is what your father says, and I think he is right. You
+are too young for this sort of thing yet. You must see the
+world; you must look about you; you must have plenty of
+choice,&#8221; continued the anxious mother. &#8220;I shall be hard to
+please, Dick, for I shall think no one good enough for my boy;
+that is the worst of having only one, and he the best son that
+ever lived,&#8221; finished Mrs. Mayne, with maternal pride in her
+voice.</p>
+<p>Dick took this effusion very coolly. He was quite used to all
+this sort of worship; he did not think badly of himself; he was
+not particularly humble-minded or given to troublesome introspection;
+on the whole, he thought himself a good fellow,
+and was not at all surprised that people appreciated him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There are such a lot of cads in the world, one is always glad
+to fall in with a different sort,&#8221; he would say to himself. He was
+quite of his mother&#8217;s opinion, that an honest, God-fearing young
+fellow, who spoke the truth and shamed the devil, who had no
+special vices but a dislike for early rising, who had tolerable
+brains, and more than his share of muscle, who was in the
+Oxford eleven, and who had earned his blue ribbon,&mdash;that such
+a one might be considered to set an example to his generation.</p>
+<p>When his mother told him she would be hard to please, Dick
+looked a little wicked, and thought of Nan; but the name was
+not mentioned between them. Nevertheless, Mrs. Mayne felt
+with unerring maternal instinct that, in spite of his youth, Dick&#8217;s
+choice was made, and sighed to herself at the thought of the
+evil days that were to come.</p>
+<p>Poor woman, she was to have little peace that night! Hardly
+had Dick finished his grumble and sauntered away, before her
+husband&#8217;s step was heard in his dressing-room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bessie,&#8221; he called out to her, &#8220;why do you allow that boy
+to keep you up so late at night? Do you know that it is eleven,
+and you are still fully dressed?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is it so late, Richard?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, of course,&#8221; he snapped; &#8220;but that is the care you take
+of your health; and the way you cosset and spoil that boy is
+dreadful.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think Dick is easily spoiled,&#8221; plucking up a little
+spirit to answer him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That shows how little you understand boys,&#8221; returned her
+husband. Evidently the whiskey, though it was the best
+Glenlivat, had failed to mollify him. It might be dangerous to
+go too far with Dick, for he had a way of turning around and
+defending himself that somewhat embarrassed Mr. Mayne, but
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span>
+with his wife there would be no such danger. He would dominate
+her by his sharp speeches, and reduce her to abject submission
+in a moment, for Bessie was the meekest of wives.
+&#8220;Take care how you side with him,&#8221; he continued, in a threatening
+voice. &#8220;He thinks that I am not serious in what I said
+just now, and is for carrying it off with a high hand; but I tell
+you, and you had better tell him, that I was never more in
+earnest in my life. I won&#8217;t have one of those Challoner girls
+for a daughter-in-law!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Richard! and Nan is such a sweet girl!&#8221; returned his
+wife, with tears in her eyes. She was awfully jealous of Nan, at
+times she almost dreaded her; but for her boy&#8217;s sake she would
+have taken her now to her heart and defied even her formidable
+husband. &#8220;She is such a pretty creature, too; no one can
+help loving her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pshaw!&#8221; returned her husband; &#8220;pretty creature indeed!
+that is just your soft-hearted nonsense. Phillis is ten times
+prettier, and has heaps more sense. Why couldn&#8217;t Dick have
+taken a fancy to her?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Because I am afraid he cares for the other one,&#8221; returned
+Mrs. Mayne, sadly. She had no wish to deceive her husband
+and she knew that the golden apple had rolled to Nan&#8217;s feet.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stuff and rubbish!&#8221; he responded, wrathfully. &#8220;What is
+a boy of his age to know about such things? Tell him from me
+to put this nonsense out of his head for the next year or two;
+there is plenty of time to look out for a wife after that. But I
+won&#8217;t have him making up his mind until he has left Oxford.&#8221;
+And Mrs. Mayne, knowing that her husband had spoken his
+last word, thankfully withdrew, feeling that in her heart she
+secretly agreed with him.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_IV_DICKS_FTE' id='CHAPTER_IV_DICKS_FTE'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+<h3>DICK&#8217;S F&Ecirc;TE.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>As Mr. Mayne&#8217;s wrath soon evaporated, and Dick was a
+sweet-tempered fellow and bore no malice, this slight altercation
+produced no lasting effect, except that Dick, for the next few
+days, hurried home to his dinner, talked a good deal about
+Switzerland, and never mentioned a Challoner in his father&#8217;s
+hearing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We must keep him in a good temper for the 25th,&#8221; he said
+to his mother, with a touch of the Mayne shrewdness.</p>
+<p>That day was rapidly approaching, and all sorts of festive
+preparations were going on at Longmead. Dick himself gravely
+superintended the rolling of the tennis-ground in the large
+meadow, and daubed himself plentifully with lime in marking
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span>
+out the courts, while Mr. Mayne stood with his hands in the
+pockets of his shooting-coat watching him. The two were a
+great deal together just then: Dick rather stuck to
+his father during one or two mornings; the wily young
+fellow knew that Nan was closeted with his mother, helping her
+with all sorts of feminine arrangements, and he was determined
+to keep them apart. Nan wondered a great deal why Dick did
+not come to interrupt or tease them as usual, and grew a little
+absent over Mrs. Mayne&#8217;s rambling explanations. When the
+gong sounded, no one asked her to stay to luncheon. Mrs.
+Mayne saw her put on her hat without uttering a single protest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is so good of you to help me, dear,&#8221; she said, taking the
+girl into her embrace. &#8220;You are quite sure people won&#8217;t
+expect a sit-down supper?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh no; the buffet system is best,&#8221; returned Nan, decidedly.
+&#8220;Half the people will not stay, and you need not make a fuss
+about the rest. It is an afternoon party, you must remember
+that; only people who are very intimate will remain for the fun
+of the thing. Tell Nicholson to have plenty of ices going;
+people care most for that sort of refreshment.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, dear; I will be sure to remember,&#8221; returned her friend,
+meekly.</p>
+<p>She was very grateful to Nan for these hints, and was quite
+willing to follow her guidance in all such matters; but when
+Nan proposed once sending for Dick to ask his opinion on some
+knotty point that baffled their women&#8217;s wits, Mrs. Mayne
+demurred.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is a pity to disturb him; he is with his father; and we
+can settle these things by ourselves,&#8221; she replied, not venturing
+to mar the present tranquillity by sending such a message to
+Dick. Mr. Mayne would have accompanied his son, and the
+consultation would hardly have ended peaceably. &#8220;Men have
+their hobbies. We had better settle all this together, you and
+I,&#8221; she said hurriedly.</p>
+<p>Nan merely nodded, and cut the Gordian knot through somewhat
+ruthlessly; but on that occasion she put on her hat
+before the gong sounded.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must be very busy, for one never has a glimpse of you
+in the morning,&#8221; she could not help saying to Dick, as he came
+in that afternoon to escort them to Fitzroy Lodge.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, yes, I am tolerably busy,&#8221; he drawled. &#8220;I am never
+free to do things in the afternoons,&#8221;&mdash;a fact that Nan felt was
+unanswerable.</p>
+<p>When Nan and her sisters woke on the morning of the memorable
+day, the bright sunshine of a cloudless June day set all
+their fears at rest. If the sun smiled on Dick&#8217;s f&ecirc;te, all would
+be well. If Nan&#8217;s devotions were longer than usual that morning,
+no one was the wiser; if she added a little clause, calling
+down a blessing on a certain head, no one would be the poorer
+for such pure prayers; indeed, it were well if many such were
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span>
+uttered for the young men who go forth morning after morning
+into the temptations of life.</p>
+<p>Such prayers might stretch like an invisible shield before the
+countless foes that environ such a one; fiery darts may be
+caught upon it; a deadly thrust may be turned away. What if
+the blessing would never reach the ear of the loved one, who
+goes out unconscious of sympathy? His guardian angel has
+heard it, and perchance it has reached the very gate of heaven.</p>
+<p>Nan came down, smiling and radiant, to find Dick waiting for
+her in the veranda and chattering to Phillis and Dulce.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, Dick!&#8221; she cried, blushing with surprise and pleasure,
+&#8220;to think of your being here on your birthday morning!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I only came to thank you and the girls for your lovely presents,&#8221;
+returned Dick, becoming rather incoherent and red at
+the sight of Nan&#8217;s blush. &#8220;It was so awfully good of you all,
+to work all those things for me;&#8221; for Nan had taken secret
+measurements in Dick&#8217;s room, and had embroidered a most exquisite
+mantelpiece valance, and Phillis and Dulce had worked
+the corners of a green cloth with wonderful daffodils and bulrushes
+to cover Dick&#8217;s shabby table: and Dick&#8217;s soul had been
+filled with ravishment at the sight of these gifts.</p>
+<p>Nan would not let him go on, but all the same his happy face
+delighted her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, don&#8217;t thank us, we liked doing it,&#8221; she returned, rather
+coolly. &#8220;You know we owed you something after all your
+splendid hospitality, and work is never any trouble to us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But I never saw anything I liked better,&#8221; blurted out Dick.
+&#8220;All the fellows will be jealous of me. I am sure I don&#8217;t know
+what Hamilton will say. It was awfully good of you, Nan, and so
+it was of the others: and if I don&#8217;t make it up to you somehow,
+my name is not Dick:&#8221; and he smiled round at them as he
+spoke. &#8220;Fancy putting in all those stitches for me!&#8221; he thought
+to himself.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We are so glad you are pleased,&#8221; returned Nan, with one of
+her sweet, straightforward looks; &#8220;that is what we wanted to
+give you,&mdash;a little surprise on your birthday. Now you must
+tell us about your other presents.&#8221; And Dick, nothing loath,
+launched into eloquent descriptions of the silver-fitted dressing-case
+from his mother, and the gun and thorough-bred collie that
+had been his father&#8217;s gifts.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is such a fine fellow; I must show him to you this afternoon,&#8221;
+went on Dick, eagerly. &#8220;His name is Vigo, and he has
+such a superb head. Was it not good of the pater? he knew I
+had a fancy for a collie, and he has been in treaty for one ever
+so long. Is he not a dear old boy?&#8221; cried Dick, rapturously.
+But he did not tell his friends of the crisp bundle of bank-notes
+with which Mr. Mayne had enriched his son; only as Dick
+fingered them lovingly, he wondered what pretty foreign thing
+he could buy for Nan, and whether her mother would allow her
+to accept it.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span></p>
+<p>After this Nan dismissed him somewhat peremptorily; he
+must go back to his breakfast, and allow them to do the same.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mind you come early,&#8221; were Dick&#8217;s last words as he waved
+his straw hat to them. How often the memory of that morning
+recurred to him as he stood solitarily and thoughtful, contemplating
+some grand sketch of Alpine scenery!</p>
+<p>The snow peaks and blue glaciers melted away before his
+eyes; in their place rose unbidden a picture framed in green
+trellis-work, over which roses were climbing.</p>
+<p>Fresh girlish faces smiled back at him; the brightest and
+kindest of glances met his. &#8220;Good-bye, Dick; a thousand good
+wishes from us all.&#8221; A slim white hand had gathered a rose-bud
+for him; how proudly he had worn it all that day! Stop,
+he had it still; it lay all crushed and withered in his pocket-book.
+He had written the date under it; one day he meant to
+show it to her. Oh, foolish days of youth, so prodigal of minor
+memories and small deeds of gifts, when a withered flower can
+hold the rarest scent, and in a crumpled roseleaf there is a
+whole volume of ecstatic meaning! Oh, golden days of youth,
+never to be surpassed!</p>
+<p>Never in the memory of Oldfield had there been a more delicious
+day.</p>
+<p>The sky was cloudless; long purple shadows lay under the elm-trees;
+a concert of bird-music sounded from the shrubberies:
+in the green meadows flags were waving, tent-draperies fluttering;
+the house-doors stood open, showing a flower-decked hall
+and vista of cool shadowy rooms.</p>
+<p>Dick, looking bright and trim, wandering restlessly over the
+place, and Mr. Mayne fidgeted after him; while Mrs. Mayne
+sat fanning herself under the elm-trees and hoping the band
+would not be late.</p>
+<p>No there it was turning in now at the stable-entrance, and
+playing &#8220;The girl I left behind me;&#8221; and there at the same
+moment was Nan coming up the lawn in her white gown, closely
+followed by her mother and sisters.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are we the first?&#8221; she asked, as Dick darted across the
+grass to meet her. &#8220;That is nice; we shall see all the people
+arrive. How inspiriting that music is, and how beautiful everything
+looks!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is awfully jolly of you to be the first,&#8221; whispered Dick;
+&#8220;and how nice you look, Nan! You always do, you know, but
+to-day you are first-rate. Is this a new gown?&#8221; casting an
+approving look over Nan&#8217;s costume, which was certainly very
+fresh and pretty.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; we have all new dresses in your honor, and we
+made them ourselves,&#8221; returned Nan, carelessly. &#8220;Mother has
+got her old silk, but for her it does not so much matter; at least
+that is what she says.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And she is quite right. She is always real splendid, as the
+Yankees say, whatever she wears,&#8221; returned Dick, wishing
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span>
+secretly that his mother in her new satin dress looked half so
+well as Mrs. Challoner in her old one. But it was no use. Mrs.
+Mayne never set off her handsome dresses; with her flushed,
+good-natured face and homely ways, she showed to marked disadvantage
+beside Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s faded beauty. Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s
+gown might be antique, but nothing could surpass the
+quiet grace of her carriage, or the low pleasant modulations of
+her voice. Her figure was almost as slim as her daughters&#8217;,
+and she could easily have passed for their elder sister.</p>
+<p>Lady Fitzroy, who was a Burgoyne by birth,&mdash;and every one
+knows that for haughtiness and a certain exclusive intoleration
+none could match the Burgoynes,&mdash;always distinguished Mrs.
+Challoner by the marked attention she paid her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;A very lady-like woman, Percival. Certainly the most
+lady-like person in the neighborhood,&#8221; she would say to her
+husband, who was not quite so exclusive, and always made himself
+pleasant to his neighbors; and she would ask very graciously
+after her brother-in-law, Sir Francis Challoner. &#8220;He is
+still in India, I suppose?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; he is still in India,&#8221; Mrs. Challoner would reply,
+rather curtly. She had not the faintest interest in her husband&#8217;s
+brother, whom she had never seen more than twice in
+her life, and who was understood to be small credit to his family.
+The aforesaid Sir Francis Challoner had been the poorest of English
+baronets. His property had dwindled down until it consisted
+simply of a half ruined residence in the north of England.</p>
+<p>In his young days Sir Francis had been a prodigal, and, like
+the prodigal in the parable, he had betaken himself into far
+countries, not to waste his substance, for he had none, but if possible
+to glean some of the Eastern riches.</p>
+<p>Whether he had been successful or not Mrs. Challoner hardly
+knew. That he had married and settled in Calcutta,&mdash;that he
+had a son named Harry, who had once written to her in round
+hand and subscribed himself as her affectionate nephew, Henry
+Ford Challoner&mdash;this she knew; but what manner of person
+Lady Challoner might be, or what sort of home her brother-in-law
+had made for himself, those points were enveloped in
+mystery.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose she is so civil to me because of your uncle Francis,&#8221;
+she used to say to her girls, which was attributing to Lady
+Fitzroy a degree of snobbishness that was quite undeserved.
+Lady Fitzroy really liked Mrs. Challoner and found intercourse
+with her very pleasant and refreshing. When one is perfectly
+well-bred, there is a subtile charm in harmony of voice and
+manner. Mrs. Challoner might have dressed in rags if she
+liked, and the young countess would still have aired her choicest
+smiles for her.</p>
+<p>It was lucky Nan had those few words from Dick, for they
+fell apart after this, and were separated the greater portion of
+the afternoon.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span></p>
+<p>Carriages began to drive in at the gates; groups of well-dressed
+people thronged the lawn, and were drafted off to the field where
+the band was playing.</p>
+<p>Nan and her sisters had their work cut out for them; they
+knew everybody and they were free of the house. It was they
+who helped Dick arrange the tennis-matches, who pointed out
+to the young men of the party which was the tea-tent, and
+where the ices and claret-cup were to be found. They marshalled
+the elder ladies into pleasant nooks, where they could be
+sheltered from the sun and see all that was going on.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, thank you; I shall not play tennis this afternoon; there
+are too many of us, and I am so busy,&#8221; Nan said, dismissing
+one after another who came up to her. &#8220;If you want a partner,
+there is Carrie Paine, who is dying for a game.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dick, who was passing with Lady Fitzroy on his arm, whom
+he was hurrying somewhat unceremoniously across the field,
+threw her a grateful glance as he went by.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What a sweet-looking girl that is!&#8221; said Lady Fitzroy,
+graciously, as she panted a little over her exertion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who?&mdash;Nan? Yes; isn&#8217;t she a brick?&mdash;and the others
+too?&#8221; for Phillis and Dulce were just as self-denying in their
+labors. As Mr. Mayne said afterwards, &#8220;They were just everywhere,
+those Challoners, like a hive of swarming bees;&#8221; which,
+as it was said in a grumbling tone, was ungrateful, to say the
+least of it.</p>
+<p>Dick worked like a horse too; he looked all the afternoon as
+though he had a tough job in hand that required the utmost
+gravity and despatch. He was forever hurrying elderly ladies
+across the field towards the refreshment-tent, where he deposited
+them, panting and heated, in all sorts of corners.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you quite comfortable? May I leave you now? or shall
+I wait and take you back again?&#8221; asked Dick, who was eager
+for a fresh convoy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, no; I would rather stay here a little,&#8221; returned Mrs.
+Paine, who was not desirous of another promenade with the hero
+of the day. &#8220;Go and fetch some one else, Dick: I am very
+well off where I am,&#8221; exchanging an amused glance with one of
+her friends, as Dick, hot and breathless, started off on another
+voyage of discovery.</p>
+<p>Dick&#8217;s behavior had been simply perfect all the afternoon in
+his father&#8217;s eyes; but later on, when the band struck up a set of
+quadrilles, he committed his first solecism in manners: instead
+of asking Lady Fitzroy to dance with him, he hurried after Nan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is our dance; come along,&#8221; he said, taking her unwilling
+hand; but she held back a moment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you sure? Is there not some one else you ought to
+choose?&mdash;Lady Fitzroy, for example?&#8221; questioned Nan, with
+admirable forethought.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bother Lady Fitzroy!&#8221; exclaimed Dick, under his breath;
+he had had quite enough of that lady. &#8220;Why are you holding
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span>
+back, Nan, in this fashion?&#8221; a cloud coming over his face.
+&#8220;Haven&#8217;t you promised weeks ago to give me the first dance?&#8221;
+And Nan, seeing the cloud on his face, yielded without another
+word. Dick always managed to have his own way somehow.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dick! Dick!&#8221; cried his father, in a voice of agony, as they
+passed him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;All in good time; coming presently,&#8221; returned the scapegrace,
+cheerfully. &#8220;Now, Nan, this is our place. We will
+have Hamilton and Dulce for our <i>vis-a-vis</i>. What a jolly day;
+and isn&#8217;t this first-rate?&#8221; exclaimed Dick, rubbing his hands,
+and feeling as though he were only just beginning to enjoy
+himself.</p>
+<p>Nan was not quite so easy in her mind.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your father does not look very pleased. I am afraid, after
+all, you ought to have asked Lady Fitzroy,&#8221; she said, in a low
+voice; but Dick turned a deaf ear. He showed her the rose in
+his buttonhole; and when Nan told him it was withered, and
+wanted him to take it out, he gave her a reproachful look that
+made her blush.</p>
+<p>They were very happy after this; and, when the dance was
+over, Dick gave her his arm, and carried her off to see Vigo,
+who was howling a deep mournful bass at the back of the
+gardener&#8217;s cottage.</p>
+<p>Nan made friends with him, and stroked his black curly
+head, and looked lovingly into his deep melancholy eyes; and
+then, as her flowers were fading, they strolled off into the conservatory,
+where Dick gathered her a fresh bouquet and then
+sat down and watched her arrange it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What clever fingers you have got!&#8221; he said, looking at
+them admiringly, as Nan sorted the flowers in her lap; and at
+this unlucky moment they were discovered by Mr. Mayne,
+who was bringing Lady Fitzroy to see a favorite orchid.</p>
+<p>He shot an angry suspicious glance at his son.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dick, your mother is asking for you,&#8221; he said, rather
+abruptly; but Dick growled something in an undertone, and
+did not move.</p>
+<p>Nan gave him a frightened nudge. Why was he so imprudent?</p>
+<p>&#8220;I cannot move, because of my flowers; do go, Dick. You
+must indeed, if your mother wants you;&#8221; and she looked at
+him in such a pleading way that Dick dared not refuse. It was
+just like his father to come and disturb his first happy moments
+and to order him off to go and do something disagreeable. He
+had almost a mind to brave it out, and remain in spite of him;
+but there was Nan looking at him in a frightened, imploring
+way.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, do go, Dick,&#8221; giving him a little impatient push in her
+agitation; &#8220;if your mother wants you, you must not keep her
+waiting.&#8221; But Nan in her heart knew, as Dick did in his, that
+the message was only a subterfuge to separate them.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span>
+<a name='CHAPTER_V_I_AM_QUITE_SURE_OF_HIM' id='CHAPTER_V_I_AM_QUITE_SURE_OF_HIM'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;I AM QUITE SURE OF HIM.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Nan would willingly have effected her escape too, but she was
+detained by the flowers that Dick had tossed so lightly into her
+lap. She was rather dismayed at her position, and her fingers
+trembled a little over their work. There was a breath&mdash;a sudden
+entering current&mdash;of antagonism and prejudice that daunted
+her. Lady Fitzroy cast an admiring look at the girl as she sat
+there with glowing cheeks and downcast lids.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How pretty she is!&#8221; she said, in a low voice, as Mr. Mayne
+pointed out his favorite orchid. &#8220;She is like her mother; there
+is just the same quiet style, only I suspect Mrs. Challoner was
+even better looking in her time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Humph! yes, I suppose so,&#8221; returned her host, in a dissatisfied
+tone. He had not brought Lady Fitzroy there to talk
+of the Challoners, but to admire his orchids. Then he shot
+another glance at Nan between his half-closed eyes, and a little
+spice of malice flavored his next words.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Shall we sit here a moment? Let me see: you were asking
+me, Lady Fitzroy, about Dick&#8217;s prospects. I was talking to his
+mother about them the other day. I said to her then, Dick
+must settle in life well; he must marry money.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Indeed?&#8221; replied Lady Fitzroy, somewhat absently; she
+even indulged in a slight yawn behind her fan. She liked Dick
+well enough, as every one else did, but she was not partial to
+his father. How tiresome it was of Fitzroy to insist so much
+on their neighborly duties!</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne was not &#8220;one of them,&#8221; as she would have phrased
+it; he did not speak their language or lead their life; their
+manners and customs, their little tricks and turns of thought
+were hieroglyphics to him.</p>
+<p>A man who had never had a grandfather,&mdash;at least a grandfather
+worth knowing,&mdash;whose father&#8217;s hands had dabbled in
+trade,&mdash;actually trade,&mdash;such a one might be a very worthy
+man, an excellent citizen, an exemplary husband and father,
+but it behooved a woman in her position not to descend too
+freely to his level.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Percival is such a sad Radical,&#8221; she would say to herself;
+&#8220;he does not make sufficient distinction between people. I
+should wish to be neighborly, but I cannot bring myself to be
+familiar with these Maynes;&#8221; which was perhaps the reason
+why Lady Fitzroy was not as popular at Longmead and in other
+places as her good-natured husband.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, indeed?&#8221; she said, with difficulty repressing another
+slight yawn behind her fan, but speaking in a fatigued voice:
+but Mr. Mayne was too intent on his purpose to notice it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If Dick had brothers and sisters it would not matter so
+much; but when one has only a single hope&mdash;eh, Lady Fitzroy?&mdash;things
+must be a little different then.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He will have plenty of choice,&#8221; she returned, with an effort
+at graciousness. &#8220;Oldfield is rich in pretty girls:&#8221; and she
+cast another approving glance at poor Nan, but Mr. Mayne
+interrupted her almost rudely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, as to that,&#8221; he returned, with a sneer, &#8220;we want no
+such nonsense for Dick. Here are the facts of the case. Here
+is an honest, good-tempered young fellow, but with no particular
+push in him; he has money, you say,&mdash;yes, but not enough to
+give him the standing I want him to have. I am ambitious for
+Dick. I want him to settle in life well. Why, he might be
+called to the bar; he might enter Parliament; there is no limit
+to a man&#8217;s career nowadays. I will do what I can for him, but
+he must meet me half-way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You mean,&#8221; observed Lady Fitzroy, with a little perplexity
+in her tone, &#8220;that he must look out for an heiress.&#8221; She was
+not in the secret, and she could not understand why her host
+was treating her to this outburst of confidence. &#8220;It was so disagreeable
+to be mixed up with this sort of thing,&#8221; as she told
+her husband afterwards. &#8220;I never knew him quite so odious
+before; and there was that pretty Miss Challoner sitting near
+us, and he never let me address a word to her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan began to feel she had had enough of it. She started up
+hastily as Lady Fitzroy said the last words, but the entrance
+of some more young people compelled her to stand inside a
+moment, and she heard Mr. Mayne&#8217;s answer distinctly: &#8220;Well,
+not an heiress exactly; but the girl I have in view for him has
+a pretty little sum of money, and the connection is all that
+could be wished; she is nice-looking, too, and is a bright, talking
+little body&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; But here Nan made such a resolute effort
+to pass, that the rest of the sentence was lost upon her.</p>
+<p>Dick, who was strolling up and down the lawn rather discontentedly,
+hurried up to her as she came out.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They are playing a valse; come, Nan,&#8221; he said, holding out
+his hand to her with his usual eagerness; but she shook her
+head.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I cannot dance; I am too tired: there are others you ought
+to ask.&#8221; She spoke a little ungraciously, and Dick&#8217;s face wore
+a look of dismay, as she walked away from him with quick
+even footsteps.</p>
+<p>Tired! Nan tired! he had never heard of such a thing.
+What had put her out? The sweet brightness had died out of
+her eyes, and her cheeks were flaming. Should he follow her
+and have it out with her, there and then? But, as he hesitated,
+young Hamilton came over the grass and linked his arm in his.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Come and introduce me to that girl in blue gauze, or whatever
+you call that flimsy manufacture. Come along, there&#8217;s a
+good fellow,&#8221; he said, coaxingly; and Dick&#8217;s opportunity was
+lost.</p>
+<p>But he was wrong; for once in her life Nan was tired; the
+poor girl felt a sudden quenching of her bright elasticity that
+amounted to absolute fatigue.</p>
+<p>She had spoken to Dick sharply; but that was to get rid of
+him and to recall him to a sense of his duty. Not for worlds
+would she be seen dancing with him, or even talking to him,
+again!</p>
+<p>She sat down on a stump of a tree in the shrubbery, and
+wondered wearily what had taken it out of her so much. And
+then she recalled, sentence by sentence, everything that had
+passed in the conservatory.</p>
+<p>She had found out quite lately that Mr. Mayne did not approve
+of her intimacy with Dick. His manner had somewhat
+changed to her, and several times he had spoken to her in a
+carping, fault-finding way,&mdash;little cut-and-dried sentences of
+elderly wisdom that she had not understood at the time.</p>
+<p>She had not pleased him of late, somehow, and all her little
+efforts and overtures had been lost upon him. Nan had been
+quite aware of this, but it had not troubled her much: it was a
+way he had, and he meant nothing by it. Most men had humors
+that must be respected, and Dick&#8217;s father had his. So she bore
+herself very sweetly towards him, treating his caustic remarks
+as jokes, and laughing pleasantly at them, never taking his hints
+in earnest; he would know better some day, that was all; but
+she had no idea of any deeply-laid plan against their happiness.
+She felt as though some one had struck her hard; she had received
+a blow that set all her nerves tingling. It was very
+funny, what he said; it was so droll that it almost made her
+laugh; and yet her eyes smarted, and her cheeks felt on
+fire.</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Dick must marry money.&#8217; Why must he?&mdash;that was so
+droll. &#8216;Well, not an heiress exactly, but a pretty little sum of
+money, and a bright, taking little body.&#8217; Who was this mysterious
+person whom he had in view, whose connections were
+so desirable, who was to be Dick&#8217;s future wife? Dick&#8217;s future
+wife!&#8221; repeated Nan, with an odd little quiver of her lip.
+&#8220;And was it not droll, settling it all for him like that?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan fell into a brown study, and then woke up with a little
+gasp. It was all clear to her now, all these cut-and-dried sentences,&mdash;all
+those veiled sneers and innuendoes.</p>
+<p>They were poor,&mdash;poor as church-mice,&mdash;and Dick must marry
+money. Mr. Mayne had laid his plans for his son, and was
+watching their growing intimacy with disapproving eyes. Perhaps
+&#8220;the bright, taking little body&#8221; might accompany them
+to Switzerland; perhaps among the mountains Dick would forget
+her, and lend a ready acquiescence to his father&#8217;s plans.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span>
+Who was she? Had Nan ever seen her? Could she be here
+this afternoon, this future rival and enemy of her peace?</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, what nonsense I am thinking!&#8221; she exclaimed to herself,
+starting up with a little shame and impatience at her own
+thoughts. &#8220;What has this all got to do with me? Let them
+settle it between them,&mdash;money-bags and all. Dick is Dick, and
+after all, I am not afraid!&#8221; And Nan marched back to the
+company, with her head higher, and a great assumption of
+cheerfulness, and a little gnawing feeling of discomfort at her
+heart, to which she would not have owned for worlds.</p>
+<p>Nan was the gayest of the gay that evening, but she would
+not dance again with Dick: she sent the poor boy away from
+her with a decision and peremptoriness that struck him with
+fresh dismay.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are not tired now, Nan; and have been waltzing ever
+so long with Cathcart and Hamilton.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never mind about me to-night: you must go and ask Lady
+Fitzroy. No, I am not cross. Do you think I would be cross
+to you on your birthday? but all the same I will not have you
+neglect your duties. Go and ask her this moment, sir!&#8221; And
+Nan smiled in his face in the most bewitching way, and gave a
+little flutter to her fan. She accepted Mr. Hamilton&#8217;s invitation
+to a valse under Dick&#8217;s very eyes, and whirled away on his arm,
+while Dick stood looking at her ruefully.</p>
+<p>Just at the very last moment Nan&#8217;s heart relented.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Walk down to the gate with us,&#8221; she whispered, as she
+passed him on her way to the cloak-room.</p>
+<p>Dick, who was by this time in a somewhat surly humor,
+make no sort of response; nevertheless Nan found him out on
+the gravel path waiting for them in company with Cathcart and
+Hamilton.</p>
+<p>Nan shook off the latter rather cleverly, and took Dick&#8217;s arm,
+in cheerful unconsciousness of his ill-humor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is so good of you to come with us. I wanted to get you a
+moment to myself, to congratulate you on the success of the
+evening. It was admirably managed; every one says so:
+even Lady Fitzroy was pleased, and her ladyship is a trifle fastidious.
+Have the band in-doors, and set them to dancing,&mdash;that
+is what I said; and it has turned out a complete success,&#8221;
+finished Nan, with a little gush of enthusiasm; but she did not
+find Dick responsive.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh! bother the success and all that!&#8221; returned that very
+misguided young man; &#8220;it was the slowest affair to me, I
+assure you, and I am thankful it is over. You have spoiled the
+evening to me, and that is what you have done,&#8221; grumbled
+Dick, in his most ominous voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I spoiled your evening, you ungrateful boy!&#8221; replied Nan,
+innocently; but she smiled to herself in the darkness, and the
+reproach was sweet to her. They had entered the garden of
+Glen Cottage by this time, and Dick was fiercely marching her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span>
+down a side-path that led to the kitchen. The hall door stood
+open. Cathcart and Hamilton were chattering with the girls in
+the porch, while Mrs. Challoner went inside. They peered
+curiously into the summer dusk, as Dick&#8217;s impatient footsteps
+grated on the gravel path.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I spoiled your evening!&#8221; repeated Nan, lifting her bright
+eyes with the gleam of fun still in them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; blurted out Dick. &#8220;Why have you kept me at such
+a distance all the evening? Why would you not dance with me?
+and you gave Hamilton three valses. It was not like you, Nan,
+to treat me so,&mdash;and on my birthday too,&#8221; went on the poor
+fellow, with a pathos that brought another sort of gleam to Nan&#8217;s
+eyes, only she still laughed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, you foolish boy!&#8221; she said, and gave his coat-sleeve a
+coaxing little pat. &#8220;I would rather have danced with you than
+Mr. Hamilton, though he does reverse beautifully, and I never
+knew any one who waltzed more perfectly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I do not presume to rival Hamilton,&#8221; began Dick
+hotly, but she silenced him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Listen to me, you foolish Dick! I would have danced
+with you, and willingly, but I knew my duty better, or rather
+I knew yours. You were a public man to-day; the eyes of the
+county were upon you. You had to pay court to the big ladies,
+and to take no notice of poor little me. I sent you away for
+your own good, and because I valued your duty above my
+pleasure,&#8221; continued this heroic young person, in a perfectly
+satisfied tone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you wanted to dance with me, Nan, and not with that
+goose of a Hamilton?&#8221; in a wheedling voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Dick; but he is not a goose for all that: he is more of
+a swan in my opinion.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is a conceited ass!&#8221; was the very unexpected reply,
+which was a little hard on Dick&#8217;s chum, who was in many ways
+a most estimable young man and vastly his superior. &#8220;Why
+are you laughing, when you know I hate prigs? and Hamilton
+is about the biggest I ever knew.&#8221; But this did not mend
+matters, and Nan&#8217;s laugh still rang merrily in the darkness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What are those two doing?&#8221; asked Phillis, trying to peep
+between the lilac-bushes, but failing to discover more than the
+white glimmer of Nan&#8217;s shawl.</p>
+<p>Nan&#8217;s laugh, though it was full of sweet triumph, only irritated
+Dick; the lord of the evening was still too sore and humiliated
+by all these rebuffs and repulses to take the fun in good
+part.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is it that amuses you so?&#8221; he asked, rather crossly.
+&#8220;That is the worst of you girls; you are always so ready to
+make merry at a fellow&#8217;s expense. You are taking Hamilton&#8217;s
+part against me, Nan,&mdash;I, who am your oldest friend, who have
+always been faithful to you ever since you were a child,&#8221; continued
+the young man, with a growing sense of aggravation.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Dick!&#8221; and Nan&#8217;s voice faltered a little; she was
+rather touched at this.</p>
+<p>Dick took instant note of the change of key, and went on in
+the same injured voice:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why should I look after all the big people and take no
+notice of you? Have I not made it my first duty to look after
+you as long as I can remember? Though the whole world were
+about us, would you not be the first and the principal to me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t, Dick,&#8221; she said, faintly, trying to repress him; &#8220;you
+must not talk in that way, and I must not listen to you; your
+father would not like it.&#8221; The words were sweet to her,&mdash;precious
+beyond everything,&mdash;but she must not have him speak
+them. But Dick, in his angry excitement, was not to be
+repressed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What does it matter what he likes? This is between you
+and me, Nan; no one shall meddle between us two.&#8221; But what
+imprudent speech Dick was about to add was suddenly
+quenched in light-pealing laughter. At this critical moment
+they were met and surrounded; before them was the red glow
+of Cathcart&#8217;s cigar, the whiteness of Phillis&#8217;s gown; behind
+were two more advancing figures. In another second the young
+people had joined hands: a dusky ring formed round the
+startled pair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fairly caught!&#8221; cried Dulce&#8217;s sunshiny voice; the mischievous
+little monkey had no idea of the sport she was spoiling.
+None of the young people thought of anything but fun; Dick
+was just Dick, and he and Nan were always together.</p>
+<p>Dick muttered something inaudible under his breath; but
+Nan was quite equal to the occasion; she was still palpitating a
+little with the pleasure Dick&#8217;s words had given her, but she
+confronted her tormentors boldly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You absurd creatures,&#8221; she said, &#8220;to steal a march on us
+like that! Dick and I were having a quarrel; we were fighting
+so hard that we did not hear you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I enjoy a good fight above everything,&#8221; exclaimed Cathcart,
+throwing away his cigar. He was a handsome dark-eyed
+boy, with no special individuality, except an overweening
+sense of fun. &#8220;What&#8217;s the odds, Mayne? and who is likely to
+be the winner?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Nan, of course,&#8221; returned Dick, trying to recover himself.
+&#8220;I am the captive of her spear and of her bow: she is in
+possession of everything, myself included.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The rest laughed at Dick&#8217;s jest, as they thought it; and Mr.
+Hamilton said, &#8220;Bravo, Miss Challoner! we will help to drag
+him at your chariot-wheels.&#8221; But Nan changed color in the
+darkness.</p>
+<p>They went in after this, and the young men took their leave
+in the porch. Dick&#8217;s strong grip of the hand conveyed his
+meaning fully to Nan: &#8220;Remember, I meant it all,&#8221; it seemed
+to say to her.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;What did it matter? I am quite sure of him. Dick is
+Dick,&#8221; thought Nan, as she laid her head happily on the
+pillow.</p>
+<p>As for Dick, he had a long ordeal before him ere he could
+make his escape to the smoking-room, where his friends awaited
+him. Mr. Mayne had a great deal to say to him about the day,
+and Dick had to listen and try to look interested.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sure Dick behaved beautifully,&#8221; observed Mrs. Mayne,
+when the son and heir had at last lounged off to his companions.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, yes; he did very well on the whole,&#8221; was the
+grudging response; &#8220;but I must say those Challoner girls
+made themselves far too conspicuous for my taste;&#8221; but to
+this his wife prudently made no reply.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_VI_MR_TRINDERS_VISIT' id='CHAPTER_VI_MR_TRINDERS_VISIT'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+<h3>MR. TRINDER&#8217;S VISIT.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>The next few days passed far too quickly for Nan&#8217;s pleasure,
+and Dick&#8217;s last morning arrived. The very next day the
+Maynes were to start for Switzerland, and Longmead was to
+stand empty for the remainder of the summer. It was a dreary
+prospect for Nan, and in spite of her high spirits her courage
+grew somewhat low. Six months! who could know what
+might happen before they met again? Nan was not the least
+bit superstitious, neither was it her wont to indulge in useless
+speculations or forebodings; but she could not shake off
+this morning a strange uncanny feeling that haunted her in
+spite of herself&mdash;a presentiment that things were not going to
+be just as she would have them,&mdash;that Dick and she would not
+meet again in exactly the same manner.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How silly I am!&#8221; she thought, for the twentieth time, as
+she brushed out her glossy brown hair and arranged it in her
+usual simple fashion.</p>
+<p>Nan and her sisters were a little behind the times in some
+ways; they had never thought fit to curl their hair <i>en garcon</i>,
+or to mount a pyramid of tangled curls in imitation of a poodle;
+no pruning scissors had touched the light-springing locks that
+grew so prettily about their temples; in this, as in much else,
+they were unlike other girls, for they dared to put individuality
+before fashion, and good taste and a sense of beauty against the
+specious arguments of the multitude.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How silly I am!&#8221; again repeated Nan. &#8220;What can happen,
+what should happen, except that I shall have a dull summer, and
+shall be very glad when Christmas and Dick come together;&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span>
+and then she shook her little basket of housekeeping keys until
+they jingled merrily, and ran downstairs with a countenance
+she meant to keep bright for the rest of the day.</p>
+<p>They were to play tennis at the Paines&#8217; that afternoon, and
+afterwards the three girls were to dine at Longmead. Mrs. Challoner
+had been invited also; but she had made some excuse,
+and pleaded for a quiet evening. She was never very ready to
+accept these invitations; there was nothing in common between
+her and Mrs. Mayne; and in her heart she agreed with Lady
+Fitzroy in thinking the master of Longmead odious.</p>
+<p>It was Mr. Mayne who had tendered this parting hospitality
+to his neighbors, and he chose to be much offended at Mrs.
+Challoner&#8217;s refusal.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think it is very unfriendly of your mother, when we are
+such old neighbors, and on our last evening, too,&#8221; he said to
+Nan, as she entered the drawing-room that evening bringing her
+mother&#8217;s excuses wrapped up in the prettiest words she could
+find.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother is not quite well; she does not feel up to the exertion
+of dining out to-night,&#8221; returned Nan, trying to put a good face
+on it, but feeling as though things were too much for her this
+evening. It was bad enough for Mr. Mayne to insist on them
+all coming up to a long formal dinner, and spoiling their chances
+of a twilight stroll; but it was still worse for her mother to
+abandon them after this fashion.</p>
+<p>The new novel must have had something to do with this sudden
+indisposition; but when Mrs. Challoner had wrapped herself up
+in her white shawl, always a bad sign with her, and had declared
+herself unfit for any exertion, what could a dutiful daughter do
+but deliver her excuses as gracefully as she could? Nevertheless,
+Mr. Mayne frowned and expressed himself ill pleased.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should have thought an effort could have been made on
+such an occasion,&#8221; was his final thrust, as he gave his arm ungraciously
+to Nan, and conducted her with ominous solemnity
+to the table.</p>
+<p>It was not a festive meal, in spite of all Mrs. Mayne&#8217;s efforts.
+Dick looked glum. He was separated from Nan by a vast silver
+epergne, that fully screened her from view. Another time she
+would have peeped merrily round at him and given him a
+sprightly nod or two; but how was she to do it when Mr. Mayne
+never relaxed his gloomy muscles, and when he insisted on keeping
+up a ceremonious flow of conversation with her on the subjects
+of the day?</p>
+<p>When Dick tried to strike into their talk, he got so visibly
+snubbed that he was obliged to take refuge with Phillis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You young fellows never know what you are talking about,&#8221;
+observed Mr. Mayne, sharply, when Dick had hazarded a remark
+about the Premier&#8217;s policy; &#8220;you are a Radical one day, and a
+Conservative another. That comes of your debating societies.
+You take contrary sides, and mix up a balderdash of ideas, until
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span>
+you don&#8217;t know whether you are standing on your head or your
+heels;&#8221; and it was after this that Dick found his refuge with
+Phillis.</p>
+<p>It was little better when they were all in the drawing-room
+together. If Mr. Mayne had invited them there for the purpose
+of keeping them all under his own eyes and making them uncomfortable,
+he could not have managed better. When Dick suggested
+a stroll in the garden, he said,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pshaw! what nonsense proposing such a thing, when the
+dews are heavy and the girls will catch their deaths of cold!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We do it every evening of our life,&#8221; observed Nan, hardily;
+but even she dared not persevere in the face of this protest,
+though she exchanged a rebellious look with Dick that did him
+good and put him in a better humor.</p>
+<p>They found their way into the conservatory after that, but
+were hunted out on pretence of having a little music; at least
+Nan would have it that it was pretence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your father does not care much for music, I know,&#8221; she
+whispered, as she placed herself at the grand piano, while Dick
+leaned against it and watched her. It was naughty of Nan, but
+there was no denying that she found Mr. Mayne more aggravating
+than usual this evening.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come, come, Miss Nancy!&#8221; he called out,&mdash;he always called
+her that when he wished to annoy her, for Nan had a special
+dislike to her quaint, old-fashioned name; it had been her
+mother&#8217;s and grandmother&#8217;s name; in every generation there
+had been a Nancy Challoner,&mdash;&#8220;come, come, Miss Nancy! we
+cannot have you playing at hide-and-seek in this fashion. We
+want some music. Give us something rousing, to keep us all
+awake.&#8221; And Nan had reluctantly placed herself at the piano.</p>
+<p>She did her little best according to orders, for she dared not
+offend Dick&#8217;s father. None of the Challoners were accomplished
+girls. Dulce sang a little, and so did Nan, but Phillis could not
+play the simplest piece without bungling and her uncertain little
+warblings, which were sweet but hardly true, were reserved for
+church.</p>
+<p>Dulce sang very prettily, but she could only manage her own
+accompaniments or a sprightly valse. Nan, who did most of
+the execution of the family, was a very fair performer from a
+young lady&#8217;s point of view, and that is not saying much. She
+always had her piece ready if people wanted her to play. She
+sat down without nervousness and rose without haste. She had
+a choice little repertory of old songs and ballads, that she could
+produce without hesitation from memory,&mdash;&#8220;My mother bids
+me bind my hair,&#8221; or &#8220;Bid your faithful Ariel fly,&#8221; and such-like
+old songs, in which there is more melody than in a hundred
+new ones, and which she sang in a simple, artless fashion that
+pleased the elder people greatly. Dulce could do more than this,
+but her voice had never been properly tutored, and she sang her
+bird-music in bird-fashion, rather wildly and shrilly, with small
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span>
+respect to rule and art, nevertheless making a pleasing noise,
+a young foreigner once told her.</p>
+<p>When Nan had exhausted her little stock, Mr. Mayne peremptorily
+invited them to a round game; and the rest of
+the evening was spent in trying to master the mysteries of a
+new game, over the involved rules of which Mr. Mayne as
+usual, wrangled fiercely with everybody, while Dick shrugged
+his shoulders and shuffled his cards with such evident ill-humor
+that Nan hurried her sisters away half an hour before the usual
+time, in terror of an outbreak.</p>
+<p>It was an utterly disappointing evening; and, to make matters
+worse, Mr. Mayne actually lit his cigar and strolled down the
+garden-paths, keeping quite close to Nan, and showing such
+obvious intention of accompanying them to the very gate of the
+cottage that there could be no thought of any sweet lingering in
+the dusk.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will be even with him,&#8221; growled Dick, who was in a state
+of suppressed irritation under this unexpected surveillance;
+and in the darkest part of the road he twitched Nan&#8217;s sleeve to
+attract her attention, and whispered, in so low a voice that his
+father could not hear him, &#8220;This is not good-bye. I will be
+round at the cottage to-morrow morning;&#8221; and Nan nodded
+hurriedly, and then turned her head to answer Mr. Mayne&#8217;s
+last question.</p>
+<p>If Dick had put all his feelings in his hand-shake, it could not
+have spoken to Nan more eloquently of the young man&#8217;s wrath
+and chagrin and concealed tenderness. Nan shot him one of
+her swift straightforward looks in answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nevermind,&#8221; it seemed to say; &#8220;we shall have to-morrow;&#8221;
+and then she bade them cheerfully good-night.</p>
+<p>Dorothy met her in the hall, and put down her chamber-candlestick.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Has the mother gone to bed yet, Dorothy?&#8221; questioned the
+young mistress, speaking still with that enforced cheerfulness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, Miss Nan; she is still in there,&#8221; jerking her head in the
+direction of the drawing-room. &#8220;Mr. Trinder called, and was
+with her a long time. I thought she seemed a bit poorly when
+I took in the lamp.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mamsie is never fit for anything when that old ogre has
+been,&#8221; broke in Dulce, impatiently. &#8220;He always comes and
+tells her some nightmare tale or other to prevent her sleeping.
+Now we shall not have the new gowns we set our hearts on,
+Nan.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, never mind the gowns,&#8221; returned Nan, rather wearily.</p>
+<p>What did it matter if they had to wear their old ones when
+Dick would not be there to see them? And Dorothy, who was
+contemplating her favorite nursling with the privileged tenderness
+of an old servant, chimed in with the utmost cheerfulness:</p>
+<p>&#8220;It does not matter what she wears; does it, Miss Nan? She
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span>
+looks just as nice in an old gown as a new one; that is what I
+say of all my young ladies; dress does not matter a bit to
+them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How long are you all going to stand chattering with
+Dorothy?&#8221; interrupted Phillis, in her clear decided voice.
+&#8220;Mother will wonder what conspiracy we are hatching, and why
+we leave her so long alone.&#8221; And then Dorothy took up her
+candlestick, grumbling a little, as she often did, over Miss
+Phillis&#8217;s masterful ways, and the girls went laughingly into their
+mother&#8217;s presence.</p>
+<p>Though it was summer-time, Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s easy-chair was
+drawn up in front of the rug, and she sat wrapped in her white
+shawl, with her eyes fixed on the pretty painted fire-screen that
+hid the blackness of the coals. She did not turn her head or
+move as her daughters entered; indeed, so motionless was her
+attitude that Dulce thought she was asleep, and went on tiptoe
+round her chair to steal a kiss. But Nan, who had caught sight
+of her mother&#8217;s face, put her quickly aside.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t, Dulce; mother is not well. What is the matter,
+mammie, darling?&#8221; kneeling down and bringing her bright
+face on a level with her mother&#8217;s. She would have taken her
+into her vigorous young arms, but Mrs. Challoner almost pushed
+her away.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hush, children! Do be quiet, Nan; I cannot talk to you.
+I cannot answer questions to-night.&#8221; And then she shivered,
+and drew her shawl closer round her, and put away Nan&#8217;s caressing
+hands, and looked at them all with a face that seemed
+to have grown pinched and old all at once, and eyes full of
+misery.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mammie, you must speak to us,&#8221; returned Nan, not a whit
+daunted by this rebuff, but horribly frightened all the time.
+&#8220;Of course, Dorothy told us that Mr. Trinder has been here,
+and of course we know that it is some trouble about money.&#8221;
+Then, at the mention of Mr. Trinder&#8217;s name, Mrs. Challoner
+shivered again.</p>
+<p>Nan waited a moment for an answer: but, as none came, she
+went on in coaxing voice:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be afraid to tell us, mother darling; we can all bear
+a little trouble, I hope. We have had such happy lives, and we
+cannot go on being happy always,&#8221; continued the girl, with the
+painful conviction coming suddenly into her mind that the
+brightness of these days was over. &#8220;Money is very nice, and
+one cannot do without it, I suppose; but as long as we are together
+and love each other&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then Mrs. Challoner fixed her heavy eyes on her daughter and
+took up the unfinished sentence:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, if we could only be together!&mdash;if I were not to be separated
+from my children! it is that&mdash;that is crushing me!&#8221; and
+then she pressed her dry lips together, and folded her hands
+with a gesture of despair; &#8220;but I know that it must be, for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span>
+Mr. Trinder has told me everything. It is no use shutting our
+eyes and struggling on any longer; for we are ruined&mdash;ruined!&#8221;
+her voice sinking into indistinctness.</p>
+<p>Nan grew a little pale. If they were ruined, how would it be
+with her and Dick! And then she thought of Mr. Mayne, and
+her heart felt faint within her. Nan, who had Dick added to
+her perplexities, was hardly equal to the emergency; but it was
+Phillis who took the domestic helm as it fell from her sister&#8217;s
+hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If we be ruined, mother,&#8221; she said, briskly, &#8220;it is not half so
+bad as having you ill. Nan, why don&#8217;t you rub her hands! she
+is shivering with cold, or with the bad news, or something.
+I mean to set Dorothy at defiance, and to light a nice little fire,
+in spite of the clean muslin curtains. When one is ill or unhappy,
+there is nothing so soothing as a fire,&#8221; continued Phillis
+as she removed the screen and kindled the dry wood, not heeding
+Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s feeble remonstrances.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t, Phillis: we shall not be able to afford fires now;&#8221; and
+then she became a little hysterical. But Phillis persisted, and
+the red glow was soon coaxed into a cheerful blaze.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That looks more comfortable. I feel chilly myself; these
+summer nights are sometimes deceptive. I wonder what Dorothy
+will say to us; I mean to ask her to make us all some tea.
+No, mamma, you are not to interfere; it will do you good, and
+we don&#8217;t mean to have you ill if we can help it.&#8221; And then she
+looked meaningly at Nan, and withdrew.</p>
+<p>There was no boiling water, of course, and the kitchen fire
+was raked out; and Dorothy was sitting in solitary state, looking
+very grim.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is time for folks to be in their beds, Miss Phillis,&#8221; she said,
+very crossly. &#8220;I don&#8217;t hold with tea myself so late: it excites
+people, and keeps them awake.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother is not just the thing, and a cup of tea will do her
+good. Don&#8217;t let us keep you up, Dorothy,&#8221; replied Phillis,
+blandly. &#8220;I have lighted the drawing-room-fire, and I can boil
+the kettle in there. If mother has got a chill, I would not answer
+for the consequences.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dorothy grew huffy at the mention of the fire, and would not
+aid or abet her young lady&#8217;s &#8220;fad,&#8221; as she called it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you don&#8217;t want me, I think I will go to bed, Miss Phillis.
+Susan went off a long time ago.&#8221; And, as Phillis cheerfully
+acquiesced in this arrangement, Dorothy decamped with a frown
+on her brow, and left Phillis mistress of the situation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, now, I have got rid of the cross old thing,&#8221; she observed,
+in a tone of relief, as she filled the kettle and arranged
+the little tea-tray.</p>
+<p>She carried them both into the room, poising the tray skilfully
+in her hand. Nan looked up in a relieved way as she entered.
+Mrs. Challoner was stretching out her chilled hands to the blaze.
+Her face had lost its pinched unnatural expression; it was as
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span>
+though the presence of her girls fenced her in securely, and her
+misfortune grew more shadowy and faded into the background.
+She drank the tea when it was given to her, and even begged
+Nan to follow her example. Nan took a little to please her,
+though she hardly believed its solace would be great; but Phillis
+and Dulce drank theirs in a business-like way, as though they
+needed support and were not ashamed to own it. It was Nan
+who put down her cup first, and leaned her cheek against her
+mother&#8217;s hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, mother dear, we want to hear all about it. Does Mr.
+Trinder say we are really so dreadfully poor?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We have been getting poorer for along time,&#8221; returned her
+mother, mournfully; &#8220;but if we had only a little left us I
+would not complain. You see, your father would persist in
+these investments in spite of all Mr. Trinder could say, and now
+his words have come true.&#8221; But this vague statement did not
+satisfy Nan; and patiently, and with difficulty, she drew from
+her mother all that the lawyer had told her.</p>
+<p>Mr. Challoner had been called to the bar early in life, but his
+career had hardly been a successful one. He had held few
+briefs, and, though he worked hard, and had good capabilities,
+he had never achieved fortune; and as he lived up to his income,
+and was rather fond of the good things of this life, he got through
+most of his wife&#8217;s money, and, contrary to the advice of older
+and wiser heads, invested the remainder in the business of a
+connection who only wanted capital to make his fortune and
+Mr. Challoner&#8217;s too.</p>
+<p>It was a grievous error; and yet, if Mr. Challoner had lived,
+those few thousands would hardly have been so sorely missed.
+He was young in his profession, and if he had been spared, success
+would have come to him as to other men; but he was cut
+off unexpectedly in the prime of life, and Mrs. Challoner gave
+up her large house at Kensington, and settled at Glen Cottage
+with her three daughters, understanding that life was changed
+for her, and that they should have to be content with small
+means and few wants.</p>
+<p>Hitherto they had had sufficient; but of late there had been
+dark whispers concerning that invested money; things were not
+quite square and above-board; the integrity of the firm was
+doubted. Mr. Trinder, almost with tears in his eyes, begged
+Mrs. Challoner to be prudent and spend less. The crash which
+he had foreseen, and had vainly tried to avert, had come to-night.
+Gardiner &amp; Fowler were bankrupt, and their greatest
+creditor, Mrs. Challoner, was ruined.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We cannot get our money. Mr. Trinder says we never
+shall. They have been paying their dividends correctly, keeping
+it up as a sort of blind, he says: but all the capital is eaten
+away. George Gardiner, too, your father&#8217;s cousin, the man he
+trusted above every one,&mdash;he to defraud the widow and the
+fatherless, to take our money&mdash;my children&#8217;s only portion&mdash;and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span>
+to leave us beggared.&#8221; And Mrs. Challoner, made tragical by
+this great blow, clasped her hands and looked at her girls with
+two large tears rolling down her face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother, are you sure? is it quite as bad as that?&#8221; asked
+Nan; and then she kissed away the tears, and said something
+rather brokenly about having faith, and trying not to lose courage;
+then her voice failed her, and they all sat quiet together.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_VII_PHILLISS_CATECHISM' id='CHAPTER_VII_PHILLISS_CATECHISM'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+<h3>PHILLIS&#8217;S CATECHISM.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>A veil of silence fell over the little party. After the first few
+moments of dismay, conjecture, and exclamation, there did not
+seem to be much that any one could say. Each girl was busy
+with her own thoughts and private interpretation of a most sorrowful
+enigma. What were they to do? How were they to
+live without separation, and without taking a solitary plunge
+into an unknown and most terrifying world?</p>
+<p>Nan&#8217;s frame of mind was slightly monotonous. What would
+Dick say, and how would this affect certain vague hopes she
+had lately cherished? Then she thought of Mr. Mayne, and
+shivered, and a sense of coldness and remote fear stole over
+her.</p>
+<p>One could hardly blame her for this sweet dual selfishness,
+that was not selfishness. She was thinking less of herself than
+of a certain vigorous young life that was becoming strongly
+entwined with hers. It was all very well to say that Dick was
+Dick; but what could the most obstinate will of even that most
+obstinate young man avail against such a miserable combination
+of adverse influences,&mdash;&#8220;when the stars in their courses fought
+against Sisera&#8221;? And at this juncture of her thoughts she
+could feel Phillis&#8217;s hand folding softly over hers with a most
+sisterly pressure of full understanding and sympathy. Phillis
+had no Dick to stand sentinel over her private thoughts; she
+was free to be alert and vigilant for others. Nevertheless, her
+forehead was puckered up with hard thinking, and her silence
+was so very expressive that Dulce sat and looked at her with
+grave unsmiling eyes, the innocent child-look in them growing
+very pathetic at the speechlessness that had overtaken them.
+As for Mrs. Challoner, she still moaned feebly from time to time,
+as she stretched her numb hands towards the comforting
+warmth. They were fine delicate hands, with the polished look
+of old ivory, and there were diamond rings on them that
+twinkled and shone as she moved them in her restlessness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They shall all go; I will keep nothing,&#8221; she said, regarding
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span>
+them plaintively; for they were heirlooms, and highly valued
+as relics of a wealthy past. &#8220;It is not this sort of thing that I
+mind. I would live on a crust thankfully, if I could only keep
+my children with me.&#8221; And she looked round at the blooming
+faces of her girls with eyes brimming over with maternal fondness.</p>
+<p>Poor Dulce&#8217;s lips quivered, and she made a horrified gesture.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mamsie, don&#8217;t talk so. I never could bear crusts, unless
+they were well buttered. I like everything to be nice, and to
+have plenty of it,&mdash;plenty of sunshine, and fun, and holiday-making,
+and friends; and&mdash;and now you are talking as though
+we must starve, and never have anything to wear, and go nowhere
+and be miserable forever?&#8221; And here Dulce broke into
+actual sobs; for was she not the petted darling? and had she not
+had a life so gilded by sunshine that she had never seen the dark
+edge of a single cloud? So that even Nan forgot Dick for a
+moment, and looked at her young sister pityingly; but Phillis
+interposed with bracing severity:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t talk such nonsense, Dulce. Of course we must eat to
+live, and of course we must have clothes to wear. Aren&#8217;t Nan
+and I thinking ourselves into headaches by trying to contrive
+how even the crusts you so despise are to be bought?&#8221; which
+was hardly true as far as Nan was concerned, for she blushed
+guiltily over this telling point in Phillis&#8217;s eloquence. &#8220;It only
+upsets mother to talk like this.&#8221; And then she touched the
+coals skilfully, till they spluttered and blazed into fury. &#8220;There
+is the Friary, you know,&#8221; she continued, looking calmly round
+on them, as though she felt herself full of resources. &#8220;If Dulce
+chooses to make herself miserable about the crusts, we have, at
+least, a roof to shelter us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I forgot the Friary,&#8221; murmured Nan, looking at her sister
+with admiration; and, though Mrs. Challoner said nothing, she
+started a little as though she had forgotten it too. But Dulce
+was not to be comforted.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That horrid, dismal, pokey old cottage!&#8221; she returned, with
+a shrill rendering of each adjective. &#8220;You would have us go
+and live in that damp, musty, fusty place?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis gave a succession of quick little nods.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think it particularly dismal, or Nan either,&#8221; she
+returned, in her brisk way. Phillis always answered for Nan,
+and was never contradicted. &#8220;It is not dear Glen Cottage, of
+course, but we could not begin munching our crusts here,&#8221; she
+continued, with a certain grim humor. Things were apparently
+at their worst; but at least she,&mdash;Phillis,&mdash;the clever one, as she
+had heard herself called, would do her best to keep the heads of
+the little family above water. &#8220;It is a nice little place enough
+if we were only humble enough to see it; and it is not damp, and
+it is our own,&#8221; running up the advantages as well as she could.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Friary!&#8221; commented her mother, in some surprise:
+&#8220;to think of that queer old cottage coming into your head!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span>
+And it so seldom lets. And people say it is dear at forty pounds
+a year; and it is so dull that they do not care to stay.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never mind all that, mammy,&#8221; returned Phillis, with a grave
+business-like face. &#8220;A cottage, rent-free, that will hold us, is
+not to be despised; and Hadleigh is a nice place, and the sea
+always suits you. There is the house, and the furniture, that
+belongs to us; and we have plenty of clothes for the present.
+How much did Mr. Trinder think we should have in hand?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then her mother told her, but still mournfully, that they
+might possibly have about a hundred pounds. &#8220;But there are
+my rings and that piece of point-lace that Lady Fitzroy admired
+so&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; but Phillis waved away that proposition with an impatient
+frown.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is plenty of time for that when we have got through
+all the money. Not that a hundred pounds would last long,
+with moving, and paying off the servants, and all that sort of
+thing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then Nan, who had worn all along an expression of admiring
+confidence in Phillis&#8217;s resources, originated an idea of her own.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The mother might write to Uncle Francis, perhaps;&#8221; but
+at this proposition Mrs. Challoner sat upright and looked almost
+offended.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear Nan, what a preposterous idea! Your uncle
+Francis!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, mammy, he is our uncle; and I am sure he would be
+sorry if his only brother&#8217;s children were to starve.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are too young to know any better,&#8221; returned Mrs. Challoner,
+relapsing into alarmed feebleness; &#8220;you are not able to
+judge. But I never liked my brother-in-law,&mdash;never; he was
+not a good man. He was not a person whom one could trust,&#8221;
+continued the poor lady, trying to soften down certain facts to
+her innocent young daughters.</p>
+<p>Sir Francis Challoner had been a black sheep,&mdash;a very black
+sheep indeed: one who had dyed himself certainly to a most
+sable hue; and though, for such prodigals, there may be a late
+repentance and much killing of fatted calves, still Mrs. Challoner
+was right in refusing to intrust herself and her children to
+the uncertain mercies of such a sinner.</p>
+<p>Now, Nan knew nothing about the sin; but she did think
+that an uncle who was a baronet threw a certain reflected glory
+or brightness over them. Sir Francis might be that very suspicious
+character, a black sheep; he might be landless, with the
+exception of that ruined tenement in the North; nevertheless,
+Nan loved to know that he was of their kith and kin. It seemed
+to settle their claims to respectability, and held Mr. Mayne in
+some degree of awe; and he knew that his own progenitors had
+not the faintest trace of blue blood, and numbered more aldermen
+than baronets.</p>
+<p>It would have surprised and grieved Nan, especially just now,
+if she had known that no such glory remained to her,&mdash;that Sir
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span>
+Francis Challoner had long filled the cup of his iniquities, and
+lay in his wife&#8217;s tomb in some distant cemetery, leaving a certain
+red-headed Sir Harry to reign in his stead.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think we had better talk anymore,&#8221; observed Phillis,
+somewhat brusquely: and then she exchanged meaning looks
+with Nan. The two girls were somewhat dismayed at their
+mother&#8217;s wan looks; her feebleness and uncertainty of speech,
+the very vagueness of her lamentations, filled them with sad
+forebodings for the future. How were they to leave her, when
+they commenced that little fight with the world? She had
+leaned on them so long that her helplessness had become a
+matter of habit.</p>
+<p>Nan understood her sister&#8217;s warning glance, and she made no
+further allusion to Sir Francis; she only rose with assumed
+briskness, and took her mother in charge.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now I am going to help you to bed, mammy darling,&#8221; she
+said, cheerfully. &#8220;Phillis is quite right: we will not talk any
+more to-night; we shall want all our strength for to-morrow.
+We will just say our prayers, and try and go to sleep, and hope
+that things may turn out better than we expect.&#8221; And, as Mrs.
+Challoner was too utterly spent to resist this wise counsel, Nan
+achieved her pious mission with some success. She sat down by
+the bedside and leaned her head against her mother&#8217;s pillow,
+and soon had the satisfaction of hearing the even breathing that
+proved that the sleeper had forgotten her troubles for a little
+while.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor dear mother! how exhausted she must have been!&#8221;
+thought Nan, as she closed the door softly. She was far too
+anxious and wide awake herself to dream of retiring to rest.
+She was somewhat surprised to find her sisters&#8217; room dark and
+empty as she passed. They must be still downstairs, talking
+over things in the firelight: they were as little inclined for sleep
+as she was. Phillis&#8217;s carefully decocted tea must have stimulated
+them to wakefulness.</p>
+<p>The room was still bright with firelight. Dulce was curled
+up in her mother&#8217;s chair, and had evidently been indulging in
+what she called &#8220;a good cry.&#8221; Phillis, sombre and thoughtful,
+was pacing the room, with her hands clasped behind her head,&mdash;a
+favorite attitude of hers when she was in any perplexity.
+She stopped short as Nan regarded her with some astonishment
+from the threshold.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, come in, Nan: it will be such a relief to talk to a
+sensible person. Dulce is so silly, she does nothing but cry.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t help it,&#8221; returned Dulce, with another sob;
+&#8220;everything is so horrible, and Phillis will say such dreadful
+things.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor little soul!&#8221; said Nan, in a sympathetic voice, sitting
+down on the arm of the chair and stroking Dulce&#8217;s hair; &#8220;it
+is very hard for her and for us all,&#8221; with a pent-up sigh.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course it is hard,&#8221; retorted Phillis, confronting them
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span>
+rather impatiently from the hearth-rug; &#8220;it is bitterly hard.
+But it is not worse for Dulce than for the rest of us. Crying will
+not mend matters, and it is a sheer waste of tears. As I tell
+her, what we have to do now is to make the best of things, and
+see what is to be done under the circumstances.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed,&#8221; repeated Nan, meekly; but she put her arm
+round Dulce, and drew her head against her shoulder. The
+action comforted Dulce, and her tears soon ceased to flow.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am thinking about mother,&#8221; went on Phillis, pondering
+her words slowly as she spoke; &#8220;she does look so ill and weak.
+I do not see how we are to leave her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s moral helplessness and dread of responsibility
+were so sacred in her daughters&#8217; eyes that they rarely
+alluded to them except in this vague fashion. For years they
+had shielded and petted her, and given way to her little fads
+and fancies, until she had developed into a sort of gentle
+hypochondriac.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother cannot bear this; we always keep these little worries
+from her,&#8221; Nan had been accustomed to say; and the
+others had followed her example.</p>
+<p>The unspoken thought lay heavy upon them now. How were
+they to prevent the rough winds of adversity from blowing too
+roughly upon their cherished charge? The roof, and perhaps
+the crust, might be theirs; but how were they to contrive that
+she should not miss her little comforts? They would gladly
+work; but how, and after what fashion?</p>
+<p>Phillis was the first to plunge into the unwelcome topic, for
+Nan felt almost as helpless and bewildered as Dulce.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We must go into the thing thoroughly,&#8221; began Phillis,
+drawing a chair opposite to her sisters. She was very pale, but
+her eyes had a certain brightness of determination. She looked
+too young for that quiet care-worn look that had come so suddenly
+to her; but one felt she could be equal to any emergency.
+&#8220;We are down-hearted, of course; but we have plenty of time
+for all that sort of thing. The question is, how are we to live?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just so,&#8221; observed Nan, rather dubiously; and Dulce gave
+a little gasp.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is the Friary standing empty; and there is the furniture;
+and there will be about fifty pounds, perhaps less,
+when every thing is settled. And we have clothes enough to last
+some time, and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; here Dulce put her hands together pleadingly,
+but Phillis looked at her severely, and went on: &#8220;Forty
+or fifty pounds will soon be spent, and then we shall be absolutely
+penniless; we have no one to help us. Mother will not
+hear of writing to Uncle Francis; we must work ourselves or
+starve.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Couldn&#8217;t we let lodgings?&#8221; hazarded Dulce, with quavering
+voice; but Phillis smiled grimly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let lodgings at the Friary! why, it is only big enough to
+hold us. We might get a larger house in Hadleigh; but no, it
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span>
+would be ruinous to fail, and perhaps we should not make it
+answer. I cannot fancy mother living in the basement story;
+she would make herself wretched over it. We are too young.
+I don&#8217;t think that would answer, Nan: do you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan replied faintly that she did not think it would. The
+mere proposition took her breath away. What would Mr.
+Mayne say to that? Then she plucked up spirit and went into
+the question vigorously.</p>
+<p>There were too many lodging-houses in Hadleigh now; it
+would be a hazardous speculation, and one likely to fail; they
+had not sufficient furniture for such a purpose, and they dare
+not use up their little capital too quickly. They were too
+young, too, to carry out such a thing, Nan did not add &#8220;and
+too pretty,&#8221; though she colored and hesitated here. Their
+mother could not help them; she was not strong enough for
+housework or cooking. She thought that plan must be given up.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We might be daily governesses, and live at home,&#8221; suggested
+Dulce, who found a sort of relief in throwing out feelers in every
+direction. Nan brightened up visibly at this, but Phillis&#8217;s
+moody brow did not relax for a moment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That would be nice,&#8221; acquiesced Nan, &#8220;and then mother
+would not find the day so long if we came home in the evening;
+she could busy herself about the house, and we could leave her
+little things to do, and she would not find the hours so heavy.
+I like that idea of yours, Dulce; and we are all so fond of
+children.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The idea is as nice as possible,&#8221; replied Phillis, with an
+ominous stress on the noun, &#8220;if we could only make it practicable.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Phil is going to find fault,&#8221; pouted Dulce, who knew every
+inflection of Phillis&#8217;s voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear, no, nothing of the kind!&#8221; she retorted, briskly.
+&#8220;Nan is quite right: we all dote on children. I should dearly
+like to be a governess myself; it would be more play than
+work; but I am only wondering who would engage us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who?&mdash;oh, anybody!&#8221; returned Nan, feeling puzzled by
+the smothered satire of Phillis&#8217;s speech. &#8220;Of course we are not
+certificated, and I for one could only teach young children;
+but&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; here Phillis interrupted her:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t think me horrid if I ask you and Dulce some questions,
+but do&mdash;do answer me just as though I were going through
+the Catechism: we are only girls, but we must sift the whole
+thing thoroughly. Are we fit for governesses? what can you
+and I and Dulce teach?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, anything!&#8221; returned Nan, still more vaguely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear Nanny, anything won&#8217;t do. Come, I am really in
+earnest; I mean to catechise you both thoroughly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well,&#8221; returned Nan, in a resigned voice; but Dulce
+looked a little frightened. As for Phillis, she sat erect, with
+her finger pointed at them in a severely ominous fashion.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;How about history, Nan? I thought you could never
+remember dates; you used to jumble facts in the most marvellous
+manner. I remember your insisting that Anne of Cleves
+was Louis XII.&#8217;s second wife; and you shocked Miss Martin
+dreadfully by declaring that one of Marlborough&#8217;s victories was
+fought at Cressy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never could remember historical facts,&#8221; returned Nan,
+humbly. &#8220;Dulce always did better than I; and so did you,
+Phillis. When I teach the children I can have the book before
+me.&#8221; But Phillis only shook her head at this, and went on:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dulce was a shade better, but I don&#8217;t believe she could tell
+me the names of the English sovereigns in proper sequence;&#8221;
+but Dulce disdained to answer. &#8220;You were better at arithmetic,
+Nan. Dulce never got through her rule of three; but
+you were not very advanced even at that. You write a pretty
+hand, and you used to talk French very fluently.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I have forgotten my French!&#8221; exclaimed Nan, in a
+panic-stricken voice. &#8220;Dulce, don&#8217;t you remember me quite
+settled to talk in French over our work three times a week, and
+we have always forgotten it; and we were reading Madame de
+Sevigne&#8217;s &#8216;Letters&#8217; together, and I found the book the other
+day quite covered with dust.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hate French,&#8221; retuned Dulce, rebelliously. &#8220;I began
+German with Phillis, and like it much better.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;True, but we are only beginners,&#8221; returned the remorseless
+Phillis: &#8220;it was very nice, of course, and the Taugenichts&#8217; was
+delicious; but think how many words in every sentence you
+had to hunt out in the dictionary. I am glad you feel so competent,
+Dulce; but I could not teach German myself, or French
+either. I don&#8217;t remember enough of the grammar; and I do not
+believe Nan does either, though she used to chatter so to
+Miss Martin.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did I not say she would pick our idea to pieces?&#8221; returned
+Dulce, with tears in her eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear little sister don&#8217;t look so dreadfully pathetic. I am
+quite as disheartened and disappointed as you are. Nan says
+she has forgotten her French, and she will have to teach history
+with an open book before her; we none of us draw&mdash;no, Dulce
+please let me finish our scanty stock of accomplishments. I
+only know my notes,&mdash;for no one cares to hear me lumber
+through my pieces,&mdash;and I sing at church. You have the
+sweetest voice Dulce, but it is not trained; and I cannot compliment
+you on your playing. Nan sings and plays very nicely,
+and it is a pleasure to listen to her; but I am afraid she knows
+little about the theory of music, harmony and thorough-bass:
+you never did anything in that way, did you, Nan?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan shook her head sadly. She was too discomfited for
+speech. Phillis looked at them both thoughtfully; her trouble
+was very real, but she could not help a triumphant inflection in
+her voice.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear Nan, please do not look so unhappy. Dulce, you shall
+not begin to cry again. Don&#8217;t you remember what mother was
+reading to us the other day, about the country being flooded with
+incompetent governesses,&mdash;half-educated girls turned loose on
+the world to earn their living? I can remember one sentence of
+that writer, word for word: &#8216;The standard of education is so
+high at the present day, and the number of certificated reliable
+teachers so much increased, that we can afford to discourage the
+crude efforts to teach, or un-teach, our children.&#8217; And then he
+goes on to ask, &#8216;What has become of womanly conscientiousness,
+when such ignorance presses forward to assume such sacred
+responsibilities? Better the competent nurse than the incompetent
+governess.&#8217; &#8216;Why do not these girls,&#8217; he asks, &#8216;who,
+through their own fault or the fault of circumstances, are not
+sufficiently advanced to educate others&mdash;why do they not rather
+discharge the exquisitely feminine duties of the nursery? What
+an advantage to parents to have their little ones brought into
+the earliest contact with refined speech and cultivated manners,&mdash;their
+infant ears not inoculated by barbarous English!&#8217;&#8221; but
+here Phillis was arrested in her torrent of reflected wisdom by
+an impatient exclamation from Dulce.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Nan, do ask her to be quiet! She never stops when she
+once begins. How can we listen to such rubbish, when we are
+so wretched? You may talk for hours, Phil, but I never, never
+will be a nurse!&#8221; And Dulce hid her face on Nan&#8217;s shoulder
+in such undisguised distress that her sisters had much ado to
+comfort her.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_WE_SHOULD_HAVE_TO_CARRY_PARCELS' id='CHAPTER_VIII_WE_SHOULD_HAVE_TO_CARRY_PARCELS'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;WE SHOULD HAVE TO CARRY PARCELS.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>It was hard work to tranquillize Dulce.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never, never will be a nurse!&#8221; she sobbed out at intervals.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You little goose, who ever thought of such a thing? Why
+will you misunderstand me so?&#8221; sighed Phillis, almost in despair
+at her sister&#8217;s impracticability. &#8220;I am only trying to prove to
+you and Nan that we are not fit for governesses.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, indeed; I fear you are right there,&#8221; replied poor Nan,
+who had never realized her deficiences before. They were all
+bright, taking girls, with plenty to say for themselves, lady-like,
+and well-bred. Who would have thought that, when
+weighed in the balance, they would have been found so wanting?
+&#8220;I always knew I was a very stupid person; but you are different,&mdash;you
+are so clever, Phil.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense, Nanny! It is a sort of cleverness for which there is
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span>
+no market. I am fond of reading. I remember things, and do
+a great deal of thinking; but I am destitute of accomplishments:
+my knowledge of languages is purely superficial. We are equal
+to other girls,&mdash;just young ladies, and nothing more; but when
+it comes to earning our bread-and-butter&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; Here Phillis
+paused, and threw out her hands with a little gesture of despair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But you work so beautifully; and so does Nan,&#8221; interrupted
+Dulce, who was a little comforted, now she knew Phillis had no
+prospective nurse-maid theory in view. &#8220;I am good at it myself,&#8221;
+she continued, modestly, feeling that, in this case, self-praise
+was allowable. &#8220;We might be companions,&mdash;some nice
+old lady who wants her caps made, and requires some one to
+read to her,&#8221; faltered Dulce, with her child-like pleading look.</p>
+<p>Nan gave her a little hug; but she left the answer to Phillis,
+who went at once into a brown study, and only woke up after
+a long interval.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am looking at it all round,&#8221; she said, when Nan at last
+pressed for her opinion; &#8220;it is not a bad idea. I think it very
+possible that either you or I, Nan,&mdash;or both, perhaps,&mdash;might
+find something in that line to suit us. There are old ladies
+everywhere; and some of them are rich and lonely and want
+companions.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have forgotten me?&#8221; exclaimed Dulce, with natural
+jealousy, and a dislike to be overlooked, inherent in most young
+people. &#8220;And it is I who have always made mammy&#8217;s caps
+and you know how Lady Fitzroy praised the last one.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes; we know all that,&#8221; returned Phillis, impatiently.
+&#8220;You are as clever as possible with your fingers; but one of us
+must stop with mother, and you are the youngest, Dulce; that
+is what I meant by looking at it all round. If Nan and I were
+away, it would never do for you and mother to live at the Friary.
+We could not afford a servant, and we should want the
+forty pounds a year to pay for bare necessaries; for our salary
+would not be very great. You would have to live in lodgings,&mdash;two
+little rooms, that is all; and even then I am afraid you
+and mother would be dreadfully pinched, for we should have to
+dress ourselves properly in other people&#8217;s houses.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Phillis, that would not do at all!&#8221; exclaimed Nan, in
+a voice of despair. She was very pale by this time: full realization
+of all this trouble was coming to her, as it had come to
+Phillis. &#8220;What shall we do? Who will help us to any decision?
+How are you and I to go away and live luxuriously in
+other people&#8217;s houses, and leave mother and Dulce pining in two
+shabby little rooms, with nothing to do, and perhaps not enough
+to eat, and mother fretting herself ill, and Dulce losing her
+bloom? I could not rest; I could not sleep for thinking of it.
+I would rather take in plain needlework, and live on dry bread
+if we could only be together, and help each other.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So would I,&#8221; returned Phillis, in an odd, muffled voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And I too,&#8221; rather hesitatingly from Dulce.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;If we could only live at the Friary, and have Dorothy to do
+all the rough work,&#8221; sighed Nan, with a sudden yearning towards
+even that very shabby ark of refuge: &#8220;if we could only
+be together, and see each other every day, things would not be
+quite so dreadful.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am quite of your opinion,&#8221; was Phillis&#8217;s curt observation:
+but there was a sudden gleam in her eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have heard of ladies working for fancy-shops; do you
+think we could do something of that kind?&#8221; asked Nan, anxiously.
+&#8220;Even mother could help us in that; and Dulce does
+work so beautifully. It is all very well to say we have no accomplishments,&#8221;
+went on Nan, with apathetic little laugh, &#8220;but
+you know that no other girls work as we do. We have always
+made our own dresses. And Lady Fitzroy asked me once who
+was our dressmaker, because she fitted us so exquisitely; and
+I was so proud of telling her that we always did our own, with
+Dorothy to help&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nan,&#8221; interrupted Phillis, eagerly, and there was a great
+softness in her whole mien, and her eyes were glistening,&mdash;&#8220;dear
+Nan, do you love us all so that you could give up the whole
+world for our sakes,&mdash;for the sake of living together, I mean?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan hesitated. Did the whole world involve Dick, and could
+even her love for her sisters induce her voluntarily to give him
+up? Phillis, who was quick-witted, read the doubt in a moment,
+and hastened to qualify her words:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The outside world, I mean,&mdash;mere conventional acquaintances,
+not friends. Do you think you could bear to set society
+at defiance, to submit to be sent to Coventry for our sakes; to
+do without it, in fact to live in a little world of our own and
+make ourselves happy in it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, Phillis, you are so clever, and I don&#8217;t understand you,&#8221;
+faltered Nan. It was not Dick she was to give up; but what
+could Phillis mean? &#8220;We are all fond of society; we are like
+other girls, I suppose. But if we are to be poor and work for
+our living, I dare say people will give us up.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am not meaning that,&#8221; returned her sister, earnestly; &#8220;it
+is something far harder, something far more difficult, something
+that will be a great sacrifice and cost us all tremendous efforts.
+But if we are to keep a roof over our heads, if we are to live together
+in anything like comfort, I don&#8217;t see what else we can
+do, unless we go out as companions and leave mother and Dulce
+in lodgings.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, no; pray don&#8217;t leave us!&#8221; implored Dulce, feeling
+that all her strength and comfort lay near Nan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will not leave you, dear, if I can possibly help it,&#8221; returned
+Nan, gently. &#8220;Tell us what you mean, Phillis, for I see you
+have some sort of plan in your head. There is nothing,&mdash;nothing,&#8221;
+she continued, more firmly, &#8220;that I would not do to make
+mother and Dulce happy. Speak out; you are half afraid that
+I shall prove a coward, but you shall see.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear Nan, no; you are as brave as possible. I am rather a
+coward myself. Yes; I have a plan; but you have yourself
+put it into my head by saying what you did about Lady
+Fitzroy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;About Lady Fitzroy?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; your telling her about our making our own dresses.
+Nan, you are right: needlework is our forte; nothing is a
+trouble to us. Few girls have such clever fingers, I believe;
+and then you and Dulce have such taste. Mrs. Paine once told
+me that we were the best-dressed girls in the neighborhood, and
+she wished Carrie looked half as well. I am telling you this,
+not from vanity, but because I do believe we can turn our one
+talent to account. We should be miserable governesses; we do
+not want to separate and seek situations as lady helps or companions;
+we do not mean to fail in letting lodgings; but if we
+do not succeed as good dressmakers, never believe me again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dressmakers!&#8221; almost shrieked Dulce. But Nan, who had
+expressed herself willing to take in plain needlework, only
+looked at her sister with mute gravity; her little world was
+turned so completely upside down, everything was so unreal,
+that nothing at this moment could have surprised her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dressmakers!&#8221; she repeated, vaguely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes,&#8221; replied Phillis, still more eagerly. The inspiration
+had come to her in a moment, full-fledged and grown up,
+like Minerva from the head of Jupiter. Just from those chance
+words of Nan&#8217;s she had grasped the whole thing in a moment.
+Now, indeed she felt that she was clever; here at least was
+something striking and original; she took no notice of Dulce&#8217;s
+shocked exclamation; she fixed her eyes solemnly on Nan.
+&#8220;Yes, yes; what does it matter what the outside world says?
+We are not like other girls; we never were; people always
+said we were so original. Necessity strikes out strange paths
+some times. We could not do such a thing here; no, no, I never
+could submit to that myself,&#8221; as Nan involuntarily shuddered;
+&#8220;but at Hadleigh, where no one knows us, where we shall
+be among strangers. And then, you see, Miss Monks is
+dead.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear! oh, dear! what does she mean?&#8221; cried Dulce,
+despairingly; &#8220;and what do we care about Miss Monks, if the
+creature be dead, or about Miss Anybody, if we have got to do
+such dreadful things?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear,&#8221; returned Phillis, with compassionate irony, &#8220;if
+we had to depend upon you for ideas&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; and here she made
+an eloquent pause. &#8220;Our last tenant for the Friary was Miss
+Monks, and Miss Monks was a dressmaker; and, though perhaps
+I ought not to say it, it does seem a direct leading of Providence,
+putting such a thought into my head.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid Dulce and I are very slow and stupid,&#8221; returned
+Nan, putting her hair rather wearily from her face: her
+pretty color had quite faded during the last half-hour. &#8220;I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span>
+think if you would tell us plainly, exactly what you mean,
+Phillis, we should be able to understand everything better.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My notion is this,&#8221; began Phillis, slowly: &#8220;remember, I
+have not thought it quite out, but I will give you my ideas just
+as they occur to me. We will not say anything to mother just
+yet, until we have thoroughly digested our plan. You and I,
+Nan, will run down to the Friary, and reconnoitre the place,
+judge of its capabilities, and so forth; and when we come back
+we will hold a family council.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That will be best,&#8221; agreed Nan, who remembered, with
+sudden feelings of relief, that Dick and his belongings would be
+safe in the Engadine by that time. &#8220;But, Phillis, do you really
+and truly believe that we could carry out such a scheme?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why not?&#8221; was the bold answer. &#8220;If we can work for
+ourselves, we can for other people. I have a presentiment that
+we shall achieve a striking success. We will make the old
+Friary as comfortable as possible,&#8221; she continued, cheerfully.
+&#8220;The good folk of Hadleigh will be rather surprised when they
+see our pretty rooms. No horse-hair sofa; no crochet antimacassars
+or hideous wax flowers; none of the usual stock-in-trade.
+Dorothy will manage the house for us; and we will all sit and
+work together, and mother will help us, and read to us. Aren&#8217;t
+you glad, Nan, that we all saved up for that splendid sewing-machine?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do believe there is something, after all, in what you
+say,&#8221; was Nan&#8217;s response; but Dulce was not so easily won
+over.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean to say that we shall put up a brass plate on
+the door, with &#8216;Challoner, dressmaker,&#8217; on it?&#8221; she observed,
+indignantly. A red glow mounted to Nan&#8217;s forehead; and
+even Phillis looked disconcerted.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never thought of that: well, perhaps not. We might
+advertise at the Library, or put cards in the shops. I do not
+think mother would ever cross the threshold if she saw a brass
+plate.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, no; I could not bear that,&#8221; said Nan, faintly. A dim
+vision of Dick standing at the gate, ruefully contemplating
+their name&mdash;her name&mdash;in juxtaposition with &#8220;dressmaker,&#8221;
+crossed her mind directly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But we should have to carry parcels, and stand in people&#8217;s
+halls, and perhaps fit Mrs. Squails, the grocer&#8217;s wife,&mdash;that fat
+old thing, you know. How would you like to make a dress for
+Mrs. Squails, Phil?&#8221; asked Dulce, with the malevolent desire
+of making Phillis as uncomfortable as possible; but Phillis,
+who had rallied from her momentary discomfiture, was not to
+be again worsted.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dulce, you talk like a child; you are really a very silly
+little thing. Do you think any work can degrade us or that
+we shall not be as much gentlewomen at Hadleigh as we are
+here?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;But the parcels?&#8221; persisted Dulce.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not intend to carry any,&#8221; was the imperturbable reply,
+&#8220;Dorothy will do that; or we will hire a boy. As for waiting
+in halls, I don&#8217;t think any one will ask me to do that, as I
+should desire to be shown into a room at once; and as for Mrs.
+Squails, if the poor old woman honors me with her custom, I
+will turn her out a gown that shall be the envy of Hadleigh.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dulce did not answer this, but the droop of her lip was
+piteous; it melted Phillis at once.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, do cheer up, you silly girl!&#8221; she said, with a coaxing
+face. &#8220;What is the good of making ourselves more miserable
+than we need? If you prefer the two little rooms with mother,
+say so; and Nan and I will look out for old ladies at once.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No! no! Oh, pray don&#8217;t leave me!&#8221; still more piteously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, what will you have us do? we cannot starve; and
+we don&#8217;t mean to beg. Pluck up a little spirit, Dulce; see how
+good Nan is! You have no idea how comfortable we should
+be!&#8221; she went on, with judicious word-painting. &#8220;We should
+all be together,&mdash;that is the great thing. Then we could talk
+over our work; and in the afternoon, when we felt dreary,
+mother could read some interesting novel to us,&#8221;&mdash;a tremulous
+sigh from Nan at this point.</p>
+<p>What a contrast to the afternoons at Glen Cottage,&mdash;tennis,
+and five-o&#8217;clock tea, and the company of their young friends!
+Phillis understood the sigh, and hurried on.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It will not be always work. We will have long country
+walks in the evening; and then, there will be the garden and
+the sea-shore. Of course we must have exercise and recreation,
+I am afraid we shall have to do without society, for no one will
+visit ladies under such circumstances; but I would rather do
+without people than without each other, and so would Nan.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed!&#8221; broke in Nan; and now the tears were in
+her eyes.</p>
+<p>Dulce grew suddenly ashamed of herself. She got up in a
+little flurry, and kissed them both.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was very naughty; but I did not mean to be unkind. I
+would rather carry parcels, and stand in halls,&mdash;yes, and even
+make gowns for Mrs. Squails,&mdash;than lose you both. I will be
+good. I will not worry you any more, Phil, with my nonsense;
+and I will work; you will see how I will work,&#8221; finished
+Dulce, breathlessly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s a darling!&#8221; said Nan; and then she added, in a
+tired voice, &#8220;But it is two o&#8217;clock; and Dick is coming this
+morning to say good-bye; and I want to ask you both particularly
+not to say a word to him about this. Let him go away
+and enjoy himself, and think we are going on as usual; it
+would spoil his holiday; and there is always time enough for
+bad news,&#8221; went on Nan, with a little tremble of her lip.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear Nan, we understand,&#8221; returned Phillis, gently; &#8220;and
+you are right, as you always are. And now to bed,&mdash;to bed,&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span>
+she continued, in a voice of enforced cheerfulness; and then
+they all kissed each other very quietly and solemnly, and crept
+up as noiselessly as possible to their rooms.</p>
+<p>Phillis and Dulce shared the same room; but Nan had a little
+chamber to herself very near her mother&#8217;s: a door connected
+the two rooms. Nan closed this carefully, when she had ascertained
+that Mrs. Challoner was still sleeping, and then sat down
+by the window, and looked out into the gray glimmering light
+that preceded the dawn.</p>
+<p>Sleep; how could she sleep with all these thoughts surging
+through her mind, and knowing that in a few hours Dick would
+come and say good-bye? and here Nan broke down, and had
+such a fit of crying as she had not had since her father died,&mdash;nervous,
+uncontrollable tears, that it was useless to stem in her
+tired, overwrought state.</p>
+<p>They exhausted her, and disposed her for sleep. She was so
+chilled and weary that she was glad to lie down in bed at last
+and close her eyes; and she had scarcely done so before drowsiness
+crept over her, and she knew no more until she found the
+sunshine flooding her little room, and Dorothy standing by her
+bed asking rather crossly why no one seemed disposed to wake
+this beautiful morning.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Am I late? Oh, I hope I am not late!&#8221; exclaimed Nan,
+springing up in a moment. She dressed herself in quite a flurry,
+for fear she should keep any one waiting. It was only at the
+last moment she remembered the outburst of the previous night,
+and wondered with some dismay what Dick would think of her
+pale cheeks and the reddened lines round her eyes, and only
+hoped that he would not attribute them to his going away.
+Nan was only just in time, for as she entered the breakfast-room
+Dick came through the veranda and put in his head at the window.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not at breakfast yet? and where are the others?&#8221; he asked
+in some surprise, for the Challoners were early people, and very
+regular in their habits.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We sat up rather late last night, talking,&#8221; returned Nan,
+giving him her hand without looking at him, and yet Dick
+showed to advantage this morning in his new tweed travelling
+suit.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I have only got ten minutes. I managed to give the
+pater the slip: he will be coming after me, I believe, if I stay
+longer. This is first-rate, having you all to myself this last
+morning. But what&#8217;s up, Nan? you don&#8217;t seem quite up to the
+mark. You are palish, you know, and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; here Dick paused
+in pained embarrassment. Were those traces of tears? had Nan
+really been crying? was she sorry about his going away? And
+now there was an odd lump in Dick&#8217;s throat.</p>
+<p>Nan understood the pause and got frightened.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is nothing. I have a slight headache; there was a little
+domestic worry that wanted putting to right,&#8221; stammered
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span>
+Nan; &#8220;it worried me, for I am stupid at such things, you
+know.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She was explaining herself somewhat lamely, and to no purpose,
+for Dick did not believe her in the least. &#8220;Domestic
+worry!&#8221; as though she cared for such rubbish as that; as though
+any amount could make her cry,&mdash;her, his bright, high spirited
+Nan! No; she had been fretting about their long separation,
+and his father&#8217;s unkindness, and the difficulties ahead of them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I want you to give me a rose,&#8221; he said, suddenly, <i>a propos</i>
+of nothing, as it seemed; but looking up, Nan caught a wistful
+gleam in his eyes, and hesitated. Was it not Dick who had
+told her that anecdote about the queen, or was it Lothair? and
+did not a certain meaning attach to this gift? Dick was forever
+picking roses for her; but he had never given her one, except
+with that meaning look on his face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are hesitating,&#8221; he said, reproachfully; &#8220;and on my
+last morning, when we shall not see each other for months;&#8221;
+And Nan moved towards the veranda slowly, and gathered a
+crimson one without a word, and put it in his hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; he said, quite quietly; but he detained the
+hand as well as the rose for a moment. &#8220;One day I will show
+you this again, and tell you what it means if you do not know;
+and then we shall see, ah, Nan, my&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; He paused as Phillis&#8217;s
+step entered the room, and said hurriedly, in a low voice,
+&#8220;Good-bye; I will not go in again. I don&#8217;t want to see any of
+them, only you,&mdash;only you. Good-bye: take care of yourself
+for my sake, Nan.&#8221; And Dick looked at her wistfully, and
+dropped her hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Has he gone?&#8221; asked Phillis, looking up in surprise as her
+sister came through the open window; &#8220;has he gone without
+finding anything out?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, he has gone, and he does not know anything,&#8221; replied
+Nan, in a subdued voice, as she seated herself behind the urn.
+It was over now, and she was ready for anything. &#8220;Take care
+of yourself for my sake, Nan!&#8221;&mdash;that was ringing in her ears;
+but she had not said a word in reply. Only the rose lay in his
+hand,&mdash;her parting gift, and perhaps her parting pledge.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_IX_A_LONG_DAY' id='CHAPTER_IX_A_LONG_DAY'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+<h3>A LONG DAY.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Nan never recalled the memory of that &#8220;long gray day,&#8221; as
+she inwardly termed it, without a shiver of discomfort.</p>
+<p>Never but once in her bright young life had she known such
+a day, and that was when her dead father lay in the darkened
+house, and her widowed mother had crept weeping into her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span>
+arms as to her only remaining refuge; but that stretched so far
+back into the past that it had grown into a vague remembrance.</p>
+<p>It was not only that Dick was gone, though the pain of that
+separation was far greater than she would have believed possible,
+but a moral earthquake had shattered their little world, involving
+them in utter chaos.</p>
+<p>It was only yesterday that she was singing ballads in the
+Longmead drawing-room,&mdash;only yesterday; but to-day everything
+was changed. The sun shone, the birds sang, every one
+ate and drank and moved about as usual. Nan talked and
+smiled, and no stranger would have guessed that much was
+amiss; nevertheless, a weight lay heavy on her spirits, and
+Nan knew in her secret heart that she could never be again the
+same light-hearted, easy-going creature that she was yesterday.</p>
+<p>Later on, the sisters confessed to each other that the day had
+been perfectly interminable; the hours dragged on slowly;
+the sun seemed as though it never meant to set; and to add to
+their trouble, their mother looked so ill when she came downstairs,
+wrapped in her soft white shawl in spite of the heat, that
+Nan thought of sending for a doctor, and only refrained at the
+remembrance that they had no right to such luxuries now except
+in cases of necessity.</p>
+<p>Then Dorothy was in one of her impracticable moods, throwing
+cold water on all her young mistress&#8217;s suggestions, and doing
+her best to disarrange the domestic machinery. Dorothy
+suspected a mystery somewhere; her young ladies had sat up
+half the night, and looked pale and owlish in the morning. If
+they chose to keep her in the dark and not take her into their
+confidence, it was their affair; but she meant to show them
+what she thought of their conduct. So she contradicted and
+snapped, until Nan told her wearily that she was a disagreeable
+old thing, and left her and Susan to do as they liked. She knew
+Mr. Trinder was waiting for her in the dining-room, and, as
+Mrs. Challoner was not well enough to see him, she and Phillis
+must entertain him.</p>
+<p>He had slept at a friend&#8217;s house a few miles from Oldfield,
+and was to lunch at Glen Cottage and take the afternoon train
+to London.</p>
+<p>He was not sorry when he heard that Mrs. Challoner was
+too indisposed to receive him. In spite of his polite expressions
+of regret, he had found the poor lady terribly trying on the
+previous evening. She was a bad manager, and had muddled
+her affairs, and she did not seem to understand half of what he
+told her; and her tears and lamentations when she had realized
+the truth had been too much for the soft hearted old bachelor,
+though people did call him a woman-hater.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But I never could bear to see a woman cry; it is as bad as
+watching an animal in pain,&#8221; he half growled, as he drew out
+his red pocket-handkerchief and used it rather noisily.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span></p>
+<p>It was easier work to explain everything to these two bright,
+sensible girls. Phillis listened and asked judicious questions;
+but Nan sat with downcast face, plaiting the table-cloth between
+her restless fingers, and thinking of Dick at odd intervals.</p>
+<p>She took it all in, however, and roused up in earnest when
+Mr. Trinder had finished his explanations, and Phillis began to
+talk in her turn; she was actually taking the old lawyer into
+her confidence, and detailing their scheme in the most business-like
+way.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The mother does not know yet,&mdash;this is all in confidence;
+but Nan and I have made up our minds to take this step,&#8221;
+finished the young philosopher, calmly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bless my soul,&#8221; ejaculated Mr. Trinder,&mdash;he had given vent
+to this expression at various intervals, but had not further interrupted
+her. &#8220;Bless my soul! my dear young ladies, I think&mdash;but
+excuse me if I am too abrupt, but you must be dreaming.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis shook her head smilingly; and as Dorothy came into
+the room that moment to lay the luncheon, she proposed a turn
+in the garden, and fetched Mr. Trinder&#8217;s hat herself, and guided
+him to a side-walk, where they could not be seen from the drawing-room
+windows. Nan followed them, and tried to keep step
+with Mr. Trinder&#8217;s shambling footsteps, as he walked between
+the girls with a hot perplexed face, and still muttering to himself
+at intervals.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is all in confidence,&#8221; repeated Phillis, in the same calm
+voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you are actually serious? you are not joking?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do your clients generally joke when they are ruined?&#8221; returned
+Phillis, with natural exasperation. &#8220;Do you think Nan
+and I are in such excellent spirits that we could originate such
+a piece of drollery? Excuse me, Mr. Trinder, but I must say I
+do not think your remark quite well timed.&#8221; And Phillis
+turned away with a little dignity.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, no! now you are put out, and no wonder!&#8221; returned
+Mr. Trinder, soothingly; and he stood quite still on the gravel
+path, and fixed his keen little eyes on the two young creatures
+before him,&mdash;Nan, with her pale cheeks and sad eyes, and
+Phillis, alert, irritated, full of repressed energy. &#8220;Dear, dear!
+what a pity!&#8221; groaned the old man; &#8220;two such bonnie lasses
+and to think a little management and listening to my advice
+would have kept the house over your heads, if only your mother
+would have hearkened to me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is too late for all that now, Mr. Trinder,&#8221; replied Phillis,
+impatiently: &#8220;isn&#8217;t it waste of time crying over spilt milk when
+we must be taking our goods to market? We must make the
+best of our little commodities,&#8221; sighed the girl. &#8220;If we were
+only clever and accomplished, we might do better; but now&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;
+and Phillis left her sentence unfinished, which was a way she
+had, and which people thought very telling.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;But, my dear young lady, with all your advantages,
+and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; Here Phillis interrupted him rather brusquely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What advantages? do you mean we had a governess? Well,
+we had three, one after the other; and they were none of them
+likely to turn out first-rate pupils. Oh, we are well enough,
+compared to other girls: if we had not to earn our own living,
+we should not be so much amiss. But, Nan, why don&#8217;t you
+speak? why do you leave me all the hard work? Did you not
+tell us last night that you were not fit for a governess?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan felt rather ashamed of her silence after this. It was true
+that she was leaving all the onus of their plan on Phillis, and it
+was certainly time for her to come to her rescue. So she quietly
+but rather shyly endorsed her sister&#8217;s speech, and assured Mr.
+Trinder that they had carefully considered the matter from
+every point of view, and, though it was a very poor prospect
+and involved a great deal of work and self-sacrifice, she, Nan,
+thought that Phillis was right, and that it was the best&mdash;indeed
+the only&mdash;thing they could do under the circumstances.</p>
+<p>&#8220;For myself, I prefer it infinitely to letting lodgings,&#8221; finished
+Nan: and Phillis looked at her gratefully.</p>
+<p>But Mr. Trinder was obstinate and had old-fashioned views,
+and argued the whole thing in his dictatorial masculine way.
+They sat down to luncheon, and presently sent Dorothy away,&mdash;a
+piece of independence that bitterly offended that crabbed
+but faithful individual,&mdash;and wrangled busily through the
+whole of the meal.</p>
+<p>Mr. Trinder never could remember afterwards whether it was
+lamb or mutton he had eaten; he had a vague idea that Dulce
+had handed him the mint-sauce, and that he had declined it and
+helped himself to salad. The doubt disturbed him for the first
+twenty miles of his homeward journey. &#8220;Good gracious! for
+a man not to know whether he is eating lamb or mutton!&#8221; he
+soliloquized, as he vainly tried to enjoy his usual nap; &#8220;but
+then I never was so upset in my life. Those pretty creatures,
+and Challoners too,&mdash;bless my soul!&#8221; And here the lawyer&#8217;s
+cogitations became confused and misty.</p>
+<p>Nan, who had more than once seen tears in the lawyer&#8217;s shrewd
+little gray eyes, had been very gentle and tolerant over the old
+man&#8217;s irritability; but Phillis had resented his caustic speeches
+somewhat hotly. Dulce, who was on her best behavior, was
+determined not to interfere or say a word to thwart her sisters:
+she even went so far as to explain to Mr. Trinder that they would
+not have to carry parcels, as Phillis meant to hire a boy. She
+had no idea that this magnanimous speech was in a figurative
+manner the last straw that broke the camel&#8217;s back. Mr. Trinder
+pushed back his chair hastily, made some excuse that his train
+must be due, and beat a retreat an hour before the time, unable
+to pursue such a painful subject any longer.</p>
+<p>Nan rose, with a sigh of relief, as soon as the door closed upon
+their visitors, and took refuge in the shady drawing-room with
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span>
+her mother, whom she found in a very tearful, querulous state,
+requiring a great deal of soothing. They had decided that no
+visitors were to be admitted that afternoon.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You may say your mistress is indisposed with a bad headache,
+Dorothy, and that we are keeping the house quiet,&#8221; Nan
+remarked, with a little dignity, with the remembrance of that
+late passage of arms.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well, Miss Nan,&#8221; returned the old servant. However,
+she was a little cowed by Nan&#8217;s manner: such an order had never
+before been given in the cottage. Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s headaches
+were common events in every-day life, and had never been known
+before to interfere with their afternoon receptions. A little eau
+de Cologne and extra petting, a stronger cup of tea served up
+to her in her bedroom, had been the only remedies; the girls
+had always had their tennis as usual, and the sound of their
+voices and laughter had been as music in their mother&#8217;s ears.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well, Miss Nan,&#8221; was all Dorothy ventured to answer;
+but she withdrew with a face puckered up with anxiety. She
+took in the tea-tray unbidden at an earlier hour than usual;
+there were Dulce&#8217;s favorite hot cakes, and some rounds of delicately-buttered
+toast, &#8220;for the young ladies have not eaten
+above a morsel at luncheon,&#8221; said Dorothy in explanation to her
+mistress.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never mind us,&#8221; returned Nan, with a friendly nod at the
+old woman: &#8220;it has been so hot to-day,&#8221; And then she coaxed
+her mother to eat, and made believe herself to enjoy the repast
+while she wondered how many more evenings they would spend
+in the pretty drawing-room on which they had expended so much
+labor.</p>
+<p>Nan had countermanded the late dinner, which they all felt
+would be a pretence and mockery; and as Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s headache
+refused to yield to the usual remedies, she was obliged to
+retire to bed as soon as the sun set, and the three girls went out
+in the garden, and walked up and down the lawn with their arms
+interlaced, while Dorothy watched them from the pantry window,
+and wiped away a tear or two, as she washed up the tea-things.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How I should like a long walk?&#8221; exclaimed Dulce, impatiently.
+&#8220;It is so narrow and confined here; but it would never
+do: we should meet people.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, it would never do,&#8221; agreed her sisters, feeling a fresh
+pang that such avoidance was necessary. They had never hidden
+anything before, and the thought that this mystery lay between
+them and their friends was exquisitely painful.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I feel as though I never cared to see one of them again!&#8221;
+sighed poor Nan, for which speech she was rather sharply rebuked
+by Phillis.</p>
+<p>They settled a fair amount of business before they went to bed
+that night; and when Dorothy brought in the supper-tray, bearing
+a little covered dish in triumph, which she set down before
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span>
+Nan, Nan looked at her with grave, reproachful eyes, in
+there was a great deal of kindness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You should not do this, Dorothy,&#8221; she said, very gently:
+&#8220;we cannot afford such delicacies now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is your favorite dish, Miss Nan,&#8221; returned Dorothy, quite
+ignoring this remark. &#8220;Susan has cooked it to a nicety; but
+it will be spoiled if it is not eaten hot.&#8221; And she stood over
+them, while Nan dispensed the dainty. &#8220;You must eat it while
+it is hot,&#8221; she kept saying, as she fidgeted about the room, taking
+up things and putting them down again. Phillis looked at Nan
+with a comical expression of dismay.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dorothy, come here,&#8221; she exclaimed, at last, pushing away
+her plate. &#8220;Don&#8217;t you see that Susan is wasting all her talents
+on us, and that we can&#8217;t eat to-day?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Every one can eat if they try, Miss Phillis,&#8221; replied Dorothy,
+oracularly. &#8220;But a thing like that must be hot, or it is
+spoiled.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, never mind about it being hot,&#8221; returned Phillis, beginning
+to laugh. She was so tired, and Dorothy was such a
+droll old thing; and how were even stewed pigeons to be appetizing
+under the circumstances?</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you may laugh,&#8221; began Dorothy, in an offended tone;
+but Phillis took hold of her and nearly shook her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, what a stupid old thing you are! Don&#8217;t you know
+what a silly, aggravating old creature you can be when you
+like? If I laugh, it is because everything is so ludicrous and
+wretched. Nan and Dulce are not laughing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, indeed,&#8221; put in Dulce; &#8220;we are far, far too unhappy!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is it, Miss Nan?&#8221; asked Dorothy, sidling up to her
+in a coaxing manner. &#8220;I am only an old servant, but it was
+me that put Miss Dulce in her father&#8217;s arms,&mdash;&#8216;the pretty lamb,&#8217;
+as he called her, and she with a skin like a lily. If there is
+trouble, you would not keep it from her old nurse, surely?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, indeed, Dorothy: we want to tell you,&#8221; returned Nan
+touched by this appeal; and then she quietly recapitulated the
+main points that concerned their difficulties,&mdash;their mother&#8217;s
+loss, their future poverty, the necessity for leaving Glen Cottage
+and settling down at the Friary.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We shall all have to work,&#8221; finished Nan, with prudent
+vagueness, not daring to intrust their plan to Dorothy: &#8220;the
+cottage is small, and, of course, we can only keep one servant.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I dare say I shall be able to manage if you will help me a
+little,&#8221; returned Dorothy, drying her old eyes with the corner
+of her apron. &#8220;Dear, dear! to think of such an affliction coming
+upon my mistress and the dear young ladies! It is like an
+earthquake or a flood, or something sudden and unexpected,&mdash;Lord
+deliver us! And to think of my speaking crossly to you
+Miss Nan, and you with all this worry on your mind!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We will not think of that,&#8221; returned Nan, soothingly.
+&#8220;Susan&#8217;s quarter will be up shortly, and we must get her away
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span>
+as soon as possible. My great fear is that the work may be too
+much for you, poor Dorothy; and that&mdash;that&mdash;we may have to
+keep you waiting sometimes for your wages,&#8221; she added, rather
+hesitatingly fearing to offend Dorothy&#8217;s touchy temper, and yet
+determined to put the whole matter clearly before her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think we need talk about that,&#8221; returned Dorothy,
+with dignity. &#8220;I have not saved up my wages for nineteen
+years without having a nest-egg laid up for rainy days. Wages,&mdash;when
+I mention the word, Miss Nan,&#8221; went on Dorothy, waxing
+somewhat irate, &#8220;it will be time enough to enter upon that
+subject. I haven&#8217;t deserved such a speech; no, that I haven&#8217;t,&#8221;
+went on Dorothy, with a sob. &#8220;Wages, indeed!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, nursey, you shan&#8217;t be cross with Nan,&#8221; cried Dulce,
+throwing her arms round the old woman; for, in spite of her
+eighteen years, she was still Dorothy&#8217;s special charge. &#8220;She&#8217;s
+quite right; it may be an unpleasant subject, but we will not
+have you working for us for nothing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well, Miss Dulce,&#8221; returned Dorothy, in a choked voice
+preparing to withdraw; but Nan caught hold of the hard work-worn
+hand, and held her fast.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Dorothy, you would not add to our trouble now, when
+we are so terribly unhappy! I never meant to hurt your feelings
+by what I said. If you will only go to the Friary and help
+us to make the dear mother comfortable, I, for one, will be
+deeply grateful.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you will not talk of wages?&#8221; asked Dorothy, mollified
+by Nan&#8217;s sweet, pleading tones.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not until we can afford to do so,&#8221; returned Nan, hastily,
+feeling that this was a safe compromise, and that they should
+be eked out somehow. And then, the stewed pigeons being regarded
+as a failure, Dorothy consented to remove the supper
+tray, and the long day was declared at an end.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_X_THE_FRIARY' id='CHAPTER_X_THE_FRIARY'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+<h3>THE FRIARY.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Oldfield was rather mystified by the Challoners&#8217; movements.
+There were absolutely three afternoons during which Nan and
+her sisters were invisible. There was a tennis-party at the
+Paines&#8217; on one of these days, but at the last minute they
+had excused themselves. Nan&#8217;s prettily-worded note was declared
+very vague and unsatisfactory, and on the following
+afternoon there was a regular invasion of the cottage,&mdash;Carrie
+Paine, and two of the Twentyman girls, and Adelaide Sartoris
+and her young brother Albert.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span></p>
+<p>They found Dulce alone, looking very sad and forlorn.</p>
+<p>Nan and Phillis had gone down to Hadleigh that morning,
+she explained in rather a confused way: they were not expected
+back until the following evening.</p>
+<p>On being pressed by Miss Sartoris as to the reason of this
+sudden trip, she added, rather awkwardly, that it was on business;
+her mother was not well,&mdash;oh, very far from well; and
+they had to look at a house that belonged to them, as the
+tenant had lately died.</p>
+<p>This was all very plausible; but Dulce&#8217;s manner was so constrained,
+and she spoke with such hesitation, that Miss Sartoris
+was convinced that something lay behind. They went out in
+the garden, however, and chose sides for their game of tennis;
+and, though Dulce had never played so badly in her life, the
+fresh air and exercise did her good, and at the end of the afternoon
+she looked a little less drooping.</p>
+<p>It was felt to be a failure, however, by the whole party; and
+when tea was over, there was no mention of a second game.
+&#8220;No, we will not stay any longer,&#8221; observed Isabella Twentyman,
+kissing the girl with much affection. &#8220;Of course we
+understand that you will be wanting to sit with your mother.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and if you do not come in to-morrow we shall quite
+know how it is,&#8221; added Miss Sartoris, good-naturedly, for which
+Dulce thanked her and looked relieved.</p>
+<p>She stood at the hall door watching them as they walked
+down the village street, swinging their racquets and talking
+merrily.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What happy girls!&#8221; she thought, with a sigh. Miss
+Sartoris was an heiress, and the Twentymans were rich, and
+every one knew that Carrie and Sophy Paine would have
+money. &#8220;None of them will have to work,&#8221; said poor Dulce
+sorrowfully to herself: &#8220;they can go on playing tennis and
+driving and riding and dancing as long as they like.&#8221; And
+then she went up to her mother&#8217;s room with lagging footsteps
+and a cloudy brow.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You may depend upon it there is something amiss with
+those Challoners,&#8221; said Miss Sartoris, as soon as they were out
+of sight of the cottage; &#8220;no one has seen anything of them for
+the last three or four days, and I never saw Dulce so unlike
+herself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I hope not,&#8221; returned Carrie, gravely, who had heard
+enough from her father to guess that there was pecuniary embarrassment
+at the bottom. &#8220;Poor little thing, she did seem
+rather subdued. How many people do you expect to muster to-morrow,
+Adelaide?&#8221; and then Miss Sartoris understood that
+the subject was to be changed.</p>
+<p>While Dulce was trying to entertain her friends, Nan and
+Phillis were reconnoitring the Friary.</p>
+<p>They had taken an early train to London, and had contrived
+to reach Hadleigh a little before three. They went first to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span>
+Beach House,&mdash;a small unpretending house on the Parade, kept
+by a certain Mrs. Mozley, with whom they had once lodged
+after Dulce had the measles.</p>
+<p>The good woman received them with the utmost cordiality.
+Her place was pretty nearly filled, she told them proudly; the
+drawing-room had been taken for three months, and an elderly
+couple were in the dining-room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But there is a bedroom I could let you have for one night,&#8221;
+finished Mrs. Mozley, &#8220;and there is the little side parlor where
+you could have your tea and breakfast.&#8221; And when Nan had
+thanked her, and suggested the addition of chops to their evening
+meal, they left their modest luggage and set out for the
+Friary.</p>
+<p>Phillis would have gone direct to their destination, but Nan
+pleaded for one turn on the Parade. She wanted a glimpse of
+the sea, and it was such a beautiful afternoon.</p>
+<p>The tide was out, and the long black breakwaters were uncovered;
+the sun was shining on the wet shingles and narrow
+strip of yellow sand. The sea looked blue and unruffled, with
+little sparkles and gleams of light, and white sails glimmered
+on the horizon. Some boatmen were dragging a boat down the
+beach; it grated noisily over the pebbles. A merry party were
+about to embark,&mdash;a tall man in a straw hat, and two boys in
+knickerbockers. Their sisters were watching them. &#8220;Oh,
+Reggie, do be careful!&#8221; Nan heard one of the girls say, as he
+waded knee-deep into the water.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come, Nan, we ought not to dawdle like this!&#8221; exclaimed
+Phillis, impatiently; and they went on quickly, past the long
+row of old-fashioned white houses with the green before them
+and that sweet Sussex border of soft feathery tamarisk, and
+then past the cricket-field, and down to the whitewashed cottage
+of the Preventive Station; and then they turned back and
+walked towards the Steyne, and after that Nan declared herself
+satisfied.</p>
+<p>There were plenty of people on the Parade, and most of them
+looked after the two girls as they passed. Nan&#8217;s sweet bloom
+and graceful carriage always attracted notice; and Phillis,
+although she generally suffered from comparison with her sister,
+was still very uncommon-looking.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should like to know who those young ladies are,&#8221; observed
+a military-looking man with a white moustache, who was standing
+at the Library door waiting for his daughter to make some
+purchases. &#8220;Look at them, Elizabeth: one of them is such a
+pretty girl, and they walk so well.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear father, I suppose they are only some new-comers: we
+shall see their names down in the visitors&#8217; list by and by;&#8221; and
+Miss Middleton smiled as she took her father&#8217;s arm, for she was
+slightly lame. She knew strangers always interested him, and
+that he would make it his business for the next few days to find
+out everything about them.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Did you see that nice-looking woman?&#8221; asked Phillis, when
+they had passed. &#8220;She was quite young, only her hair was
+gray: fancy, a gray-haired girl!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, she must be older than she looks,&#8221; returned Nan, indifferently.</p>
+<p>She was not looking at people: she was far too busily engaged
+identifying each well-remembered spot.</p>
+<p>There was the shabby little cottage, where she and her mother
+had once stayed after an illness of Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s. What odd
+little rooms they had occupied, looking over a strip of garden-ground
+full of marigolds! &#8220;Marigolds-all-in-a-row Cottage,&#8221;
+she had named it in her home letters. It was nearly opposite
+the White House where Mrs. Cheyne lived. Nan remembered
+her,&mdash;a handsome, sad-looking woman, who always wore black,
+and drove out in such handsome carriages.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Always alone; how sad!&#8221; Nan thought; and she wondered,
+as they walked past the low stone walls with grassy mounds
+slopping from them, and a belt of shrubbery shutting out views
+of the house, whether Mrs. Cheyne lived there still.</p>
+<p>They had reached a quiet country corner now; there was a
+clump of trees, guarded by posts and chains; a white house
+stood far back. There were two or three other houses, and a
+cottage dotted down here and there. The road looked shady
+and inviting. Nan began to look about her more cheerfully.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am glad it is so quiet, and so far away from the town, and
+that our neighbors will not be able to overlook us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was just thinking of that as a disadvantage,&#8221; returned
+Phillis, with placid opposition. &#8220;It is a pity, under the
+circumstances, that we are not nearer the town.&#8221; And after that
+Nan held her peace.</p>
+<p>They were passing an old-fashioned house with a green door in
+the wall, when it suddenly opened, and a tall, grave looking
+young man, in clerical attire, came out quickly upon them, and
+then drew back to let them pass.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose that is the new vicar?&#8221; whispered Phillis, when
+they had gone a few steps. &#8220;You know poor old Dr. Musgrave
+is dead, and most likely that is his successor.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I forgot that was the vicarage,&#8221; returned Nan. But happily
+she did not turn round to look at it again; if she had done
+so, she would have seen the young clergyman still standing by
+the green door watching them. &#8220;It is a shabby, dull old house
+in front; but I remember that when mother and I returned
+Mrs. Musgrave&#8217;s call we were shown into such a dear old-fashioned
+drawing-room, with windows looking out on such a
+pleasant garden. I quite fell in love with it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, we shall be near neighbors,&#8221; observed Phillis, somewhat
+shortly, as she paused before another green door, set in a
+long blank wall; &#8220;for here we are at the Friary, and I had
+better just run over the way and get the key from Mrs. Crump.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan nodded, and then stood like an image of patience before
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span>
+the shabby green door. Would it open and let them into a new
+untried life? What sort of fading hopes, of dim regrets, would
+be left outside when they crossed the threshold? The thought
+of the empty rooms, not yet swept and garnished, made her
+shiver: the upper windows looked blankly at her, like blind,
+unrecognizing eyes. She was quite glad when Phillis joined her
+again, swinging the key on her little finger, and humming a
+tune in forced cheerfulness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What a dull, shut-in place! I think the name of Friary
+suits it exactly,&#8221; observed Nan, disconsolately, as they went up
+the little flagged path, bordered with lilac-bushes. &#8220;It feels
+like a miniature convent or prison: we might have a grating in
+the door, and answer all outsiders through it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense!&#8221; returned Phillis, who was determined to take
+a bright view of things. &#8220;Don&#8217;t go into the house just yet, I
+want to see the garden.&#8221; And she led the way down a gloomy
+side-path, with unclipped box and yews, that made it dark and
+decidedly damp. This brought them to a little lawn, with tall,
+rank grass that might have been mown for hay, and some side-beds
+full of old fashioned flowers, such as lupins and monkshood,
+pinks and small pansies; a dreary little greenhouse, with a few
+empty flower-pots and a turned-up box was in one corner, and
+an attempt at a rockery, with a periwinkle climbing over it,
+and an undesirable number of oyster-shells.</p>
+<p>An old medlar tree, very warped and gnarled, was at the
+bottom of the lawn, and beyond this a small kitchen-garden,
+with abundance of gooseberry and currant-bushes, and vast
+resources in the shape of mint, marjoram, and lavender.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear! oh, dear! what a wretched little place after our
+dear old Glen Cottage garden!&#8221; And in spite of her good resolutions,
+Nan&#8217;s eyes grew misty.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Comparisons are odious,&#8221; retorted Phillis, briskly. &#8220;We
+have just to make the best of things,&mdash;and I don&#8217;t deny they are
+horrid,&mdash;and put all the rest away, between lavender, on the
+shelves of our memory.&#8221; And she smiled grimly as she picked
+one of the gray spiky flowers.</p>
+<p>And then, as they walked round the weedy paths, she pointed
+out how different it would look when the lawn was mown, and
+all the weeds and oyster-shells removed, and the box and yews
+clipped, and a little paint put on the greenhouse.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And look at that splendid passion-flower, growing like a
+weed over the back of the cottage,&#8221; she remarked, with a wave of
+her hand: &#8220;it only wants training and nailing up. Poor Miss
+Monks has neglected the garden shamefully; but then she was
+always ailing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>They went into the cottage after this. The entry was
+rather small and dark. The kitchen came first: it was a tolerable-sized
+apartment, with two windows looking out on the lilacs
+and the green door and the blank wall.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid Dorothy will find it a little dull,&#8221; Nan observed,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span>
+rather ruefully. And again she thought the name of Friary was
+well given to this gruesome cottage; but she cheered up when
+Phillis opened cupboards and showed her a light little scullery,
+and thought that perhaps they could make it comfortable for
+Dorothy.</p>
+<p>The other two rooms looked upon the garden: one had three
+windows, and was really a very pleasant parlor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This must be our work-room,&#8221; began Phillis, solemnly, as she
+stood in the centre of the empty room, looking round her with
+bright knowing glances. &#8220;Oh, what an ugly paper, Nan! but
+we can easily put up a prettier one. The smaller room must be
+where we live and take our meals: it is not quite so cheerful as
+this. It is so nice having this side-window; it will give us more
+light, and we shall be able to see who comes in at the door.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, that is an advantage,&#8221; assented Nan. She was agreeably
+surprised to find such a good-sized room in the cottage;
+it was decidedly low, and the windows were not plate-glass,
+but she thought that on summer mornings they might sit there
+very comfortably looking out at the lawn and the medlar-tree.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We shall be glad of these cupboards,&#8221; she suggested, after
+a pause, while Phillis, took out sundry pieces of tape from her
+pocket and commenced making measurements in a business-like
+manner. &#8220;Our work will make such a litter, and I should like
+things to be as tidy as possible. I am thinking,&#8221; she continued,
+&#8220;we might have mother&#8217;s great carved wardrobe in the recess
+behind the door. It is really a magnificent piece of furniture,
+and in a work-room it would not be so out of place; we could
+hang up the finished and unfinished dresses in it out of the dust.
+And we could have the little drawing-room chiffonnier between
+the windows for our pieces, and odds and ends in the cupboards.
+It is a pity our table is round; but perhaps it will look all the
+more comfortable. The sewing-machine must be in the side-window,&#8221;
+added Nan, who was quite in her element now, for she
+loved all housewifely arrangements; &#8220;and mother&#8217;s easy-chair
+and little table must stand by the fireplace. My davenport will
+be useful for papers and accounts.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is really a very convenient room,&#8221; returned Phillis, in a
+satisfied voice, when they had exhausted its capabilities; and,
+though the second parlor was small and dull in comparison,
+even Nan dropped no disparaging word.</p>
+<p>Both of them agreed it would do very well. There was a
+place for the large roomy couch that their mother so much affected,
+and their favorite chairs and knick-knacks would soon
+make it look cosey: and after this they went upstairs hand in
+hand.</p>
+<p>There were only four bedrooms, and two of these were not
+large; the most cheerful one was, of course, allotted to their
+mother, and the next in size must be for Phillis and Dulce.
+Nan was to have a small one next to her mother.</p>
+<p>The evening was drawing on by the time they had finished
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span>
+their measurements and left the cottage. Nan, who was tired
+and wanted her tea, was for hurrying on to Beach House; but
+Phillis insisted on calling at the Library. She wanted to put
+some questions to Miss Milner. To-morrow they would have
+the paper-hanger, and look out for a gardener, and there was
+Mrs. Crump to interview about cleaning down the cottage.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, very well,&#8221; returned Nan, wearily, and she followed
+Phillis into the shop, where good-natured bustling Miss Milner
+came to them at once.</p>
+<p>Phillis put the question to her in a low voice, for there were
+other customers exchanging books over the counter. The
+same young clergyman they had before noticed had just bought
+a local paper, and was waiting evidently for a young lady who
+was turning over some magazines quite close to them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do we know of a good dressmaker in the place?&#8221; repeated
+Miss Milner, in her loud cheerful voice, very much to Nan&#8217;s
+discomfort, for the clergyman looked up from his paper at
+once. &#8220;Miss Monks was a tolerable fit, but, poor thing! she
+died a few weeks ago; and Mrs. Slasher, who lives over Viner&#8217;s
+the haberdasher&#8217;s, cannot hold a candle to her. Miss Masham
+there,&#8221;&mdash;pointing to a smart ringleted young person, evidently
+her assistant,&mdash;&#8220;had her gown ruined by her: hadn&#8217;t you, Miss
+Masham?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Miss Masham simpered, but her reply was inaudible; but the
+young lady who was standing near them suddenly turned
+round:</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is Mrs. Langley, who lives just by. I shall be very
+happy to give these ladies her address, for she is a widow with
+little children, and I am anxious to procure her work&mdash;&#8221; and
+then she looked at Nan, and hesitated; &#8220;that is, if you are not
+very particular,&#8221; she added, with sudden embarrassment, for
+even in her morning dress there was a certain style about Nan
+that distinguished her from other people.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, Miss Drummond,&#8221; returned Miss Milner, gratefully.
+&#8220;Shall I write down the address for you, ma&#8217;am?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&mdash;no,&mdash;thank you very much, but perhaps it does not
+matter,&#8221; returned Nan, hurriedly, feeling awkward for the first
+time in her life. But Phillis, who realized all the humor of the
+situation, interposed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The address will do us no harm, and we may as well have
+it, although we should not trouble Mrs. Langley. I will call in
+again, Miss Milner, to-morrow morning, and then I will explain
+what it is we really want. We are in a hurry now,&#8221; continued
+Phillis, loftily, turning away with a dignified inclination of her
+head toward the officious stranger.</p>
+<p>Phillis was not prepossessed in her favor. She was a dark,
+wiry little person, not exactly plain, but with an odd, comical
+face; and she was dressed so dowdily and with such utter disregard
+of taste that Phillis instinctively felt Mrs. Langley was
+not to be dreaded.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;What a queer little body! Do you think she belongs to
+him?&#8221; she asked Nan, as they walked rapidly toward Beach
+House.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What in the world made you strike in after that fashion?&#8221;
+demanded the young man, as he and his companion followed
+more slowly in the strangers&#8217; footsteps. &#8220;That is just your
+way, Mattie, interfering and meddling in other folks&#8217; affairs.
+Why cannot you mind your own business sometimes,&#8221; he
+continued, irritably, &#8220;instead of putting your foot into other
+people&#8217;s?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are as cross as two sticks this afternoon, Archie,&#8221; returned
+his sister, composedly. She had a sharp little pecking
+voice that seemed to match her, somehow; for she was not unlike
+a bright-eyed bird, and had quick pouncing movements.
+&#8220;Wait a moment: my braid has got torn, and is dragging.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wish you would think a little more of my position, and
+take greater pains with your appearance,&#8221; returned her brother,
+in an annoyed voice. &#8220;What would Grace say to see what a
+fright you make of yourself? It is a sin and a shame for a
+woman to be untidy or careless in her dress; it is unfeminine!
+it is unlady-like!&#8221; hurling each separate epithet at her.</p>
+<p>Perhaps Miss Drummond was used to these compliments, for
+she merely pinned her braid without seeming the least put out.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think I am a little shabby,&#8221; she remarked, tranquilly, as
+they at last walked on. &#8220;Perhaps Mrs. Langley had better
+make me a dress too,&#8221; with a laugh, for, in spite of her sharp
+voice, she was an even-tempered little body; but this last remark
+only added fuel to his wrath.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You really have less sense than a child. The idea of recommending
+a person like Mrs. Langley to those young ladies,&mdash;a
+woman who works for Miss Masham!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;They were very plainly dressed, Archie,&#8221; returned poor
+Mattie, who felt this last snub acutely; for, if there was one
+thing upon which she prided herself, it was her good sense.
+&#8220;They had dark print dresses,&mdash;not as good as the one I have
+on,&mdash;and nothing could be quieter.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you absurd little goose!&#8221; exclaimed her brother, and he
+burst into a laugh, for the drollery of the comparison restored
+him to instant good humor. &#8220;If you cannot see the difference
+between that frumpish gown of yours, with its little bobtails
+and fringes, and those pretty dresses before us, I must say you
+are as blind as a bat, Mattie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, never mind my gown,&#8221; returned Mattie, with a sigh.</p>
+<p>She had had these home-thrusts to meet and parry nearly
+every day, ever since she had come to keep house for this fastidious
+brother. She was a very active, bustling little person,
+who had done a great deal of tough work in her day, but she
+never could be made to see that unless a woman add the graces
+of life to the cardinal virtues she is, comparatively speaking, a
+failure in the eyes of the other sex.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span></p>
+<p>So, though Mattie was a frugal housekeeper, and worked from
+morning to night in his service,&mdash;the veriest little drudge that
+was ever seen,&mdash;she was a perpetual eyesore to her brother, who
+loved feminine grace and repose,&mdash;whose tastes were fastidious
+and somewhat arbitrary. And so it was poor Mattie had more
+censure than praise, and wrote home piteous letters complaining
+that nothing she did seemed to satisfy Archie, and that her
+mother had made a great mistake in sending her, and not
+Grace, to preside over his bachelor establishment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Phillis, how shall we have courage to publish our
+plan?&#8221; exclaimed Nan, when they were at last discussing the
+much-needed tea and chops in the little parlor at Beach House.</p>
+<p>The window was wide open. The returning tide was coming
+in with a pleasant ripple and wash over the shingle. The Parade
+was nearly empty; but some children&#8217;s voices sounded from
+the green space before the houses. The brown sail of a fishing
+craft dipped into the horizon. It was so cool, so quiet, so restful;
+but Nan&#8217;s eyes were weary, and she put the question wistfully.</p>
+<p>Phillis looked into the teapot to gain a moment&#8217;s reprieve;
+the corners of her mouth had an odd pucker in them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never said it was not hard,&#8221; she burst out at last. &#8220;I felt
+like a fool myself while I was speaking to Miss Milner; but
+then that clergyman was peeping at us between the folds of his
+paper. He seemed a nice-looking, gentlemanly sort of man.
+Do you think that queer little lady in the plaid dress could be
+his wife? Oh, no; I remember Miss Milner addressed her as
+Miss Drummond. Then she must be his sister: how odd!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why should it be odd?&#8221; remarked Nan, absently, who had
+not particularly noticed them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, she was such a dowdy little thing, not a bit nice-looking,
+and he was quite handsome, and looked rather distinguished.
+You know I always take stock of people, and make
+up my mind about them at once. And then we are to be such
+close neighbors.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t suppose we shall see much of them,&#8221; was Nan&#8217;s somewhat
+depressed reply; and then, as they had finished their tea
+they placed themselves at the open window, and began to talk
+about the business of next day; and, in discussing cupboards
+and new papers, Nan forgot her fatigue, and grew so interested
+that it was quite late before they thought of retiring to rest.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XI_TELL_US_ALL_ABOUT_IT_NAN' id='CHAPTER_XI_TELL_US_ALL_ABOUT_IT_NAN'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;TELL US ALL ABOUT IT, NAN.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Nan overslept herself, and was rather late the next morning;
+but as she entered the parlor, with an exclamation of penitence
+for her tardiness, she found her little speech was addressed to
+the empty walls. A moment after, a shadow crossed the window,
+and Phillis came in.</p>
+<p>She went up to Nan and kissed her, and there was a gleam
+of fun in her eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you lazy girl!&#8221; she said; &#8220;leaving me all the hard
+work to do. Do you know, I have been around to the Library,
+and have had it all out with Miss Milner; and in the Steyne I
+met the clergyman again, and&mdash;would you believe it; he looked
+quite disappointed because you were not there!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense!&#8221; returned Nan, sharply. She never liked this
+sort of joking speeches: they seemed treasonable to Dick.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, but he did,&#8221; persisted Phillis, who was a little excited
+and reckless after her morning&#8217;s work. &#8220;He threw me a disparaging
+glance, which said, as plainly as possible, &#8216;Why are
+you not the other one?&#8217; That comes from having a sister handsomer
+than one&#8217;s self.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Phillis! when people always think you so nice, and
+when you are so clever!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis got up and executed a little courtesy in the prettiest
+way, and then she sank down upon her chair in pretended exhaustion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What I have been through! But I have come out of it
+alive. Confess, now, there&#8217;s a dear, that you could not have
+done it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; indeed,&#8221; with an alarmed air. &#8220;Do you really mean
+to say that you actually told Miss Milner what we meant to
+do?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I told her everything. There, sit down and begin your
+breakfast, Nan, or we shall never be ready. I found her alone
+in the shop. Thank goodness, that Miss Masham was not there.
+I have taken a dislike to that simpering young person, and
+would rather make a dress for Mrs. Squails any day than for
+her. I told her the truth, without a bit of disguise. Would you
+believe it, the good creature actually cried about it! she quite
+upset me too. &#8216;Such young ladies! dear, dear: one does not
+often see such,&#8217; she kept saying over and over again. And then
+she put out her hand and stroked my dress, and said, &#8216;Such a
+beautiful fit, too; and to think you have made it yourself! such
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span>
+a clever young lady! Oh, dear! whatever will Mr. Drummond
+and Miss Mattie say?&#8217; Stupid old thing! as though we cared
+what he said!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Phillis! and she cried over it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She did indeed. I am not exaggerating. Two big round
+tears rolled down her cheeks. I could have kissed her for them.
+And then she made me sit down in the little room behind the
+shop, where she was having her breakfast, and poured me out
+a cup of tea and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; But here Nan interrupted her, and there
+was a trace of anxiety in her manner.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poured you out a cup of tea! Miss Milner! And you
+drank it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course I drank it; it was very good, and I was thirsty.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But here Nan pounced upon her unexpectedly, and dragged
+her to the window.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your fun is only make-believe: there is no true ring about
+it. Let me see your eyes. Oh, Phil, Phil! I thought so!
+You have been crying, too!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis looked a little taken aback. Nan was too sharp for
+her. She tried to shake herself free a little pettishly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, if I choose to make a fool of myself for once in my
+life, you need not be silly about it; the old thing was so upsetting,
+and&mdash;and it was so hard to get it out.&#8221; Phillis would not
+have told for worlds how utterly she had broken down over
+that task of hers; how the stranger&#8217;s sympathy had touched so
+painful a chord that, before she knew what she was doing, she
+had laid her head down on the counter and was crying like a
+baby,&mdash;all the more that she had so bravely pent up her feelings
+all these days that she might not dishearten her sisters.</p>
+<p>But, as Nan petted and praised her, she did tell how good Miss
+Milner had been to her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fancy a fat old thing like that having such fine feelings,&#8221;
+she said, with an attempt to recover her sprightliness. &#8220;She
+was as good as a mother to me,&mdash;made me sit in the easy-chair,
+and brought me some elder-flower water to bathe my eyes, and
+tried to cheer me up by saying that we should have plenty of
+work. She has promised not to tell any one just yet about
+us; but when we are really in the Friary she will speak to people
+and recommend us: and&mdash;&#8221; here Phillis gave a little laugh&mdash;&#8220;we
+are to make up a new black silk for her that her brother
+has just sent her. Oh, dear, what will mother say to us, Nan?&#8221;
+And Phillis looked at her in an alarmed, beseeching way, as
+though in sore need of comfort.</p>
+<p>Nan looked grave; but there was no hesitation in her answer:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid it is too late to think of that now, Phil: it has
+to be done, and we must just go through with it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are right, Nanny darling, we must just go through with
+it,&#8221; agreed Phillis; and then they went on with their unfinished
+breakfast, and after that the business of the day began.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span></p>
+<p>It was late in the evening when they reached home. Dulce
+who was at the gate looking out for them, nearly smothered
+them with kisses.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you dear things! how glad I am to get you back,&#8221; she
+said, holding them both. &#8220;Have you really only been away
+since yesterday morning? It seems a week at least.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You ridiculous child! as though we believe that! But how
+is mother?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, pretty well: but she will be better now you are back.
+Do you know,&#8221; eying them both very gravely, &#8220;I think it was
+a wise thing of you to go away like that? it has shown me that
+mother and I could not do without you at all: we should have
+pined away in those lodgings; it has quite reconciled me to the
+plan,&#8221; finished Dulce, in a loud whisper that reached her
+mother&#8217;s ears.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What plan? What are you talking about, Dulce? and why
+do you keep your sisters standing in the hall?&#8221; asked Mrs.
+Challoner, a little irritably. But her brief nervousness vanished
+at the sight of their faces: she wanted nothing more, she told
+herself, but to see them round her, and hear their voices.</p>
+<p>She grew quite cheerful when Phillis told her about the new
+papers, and how Mrs. Crump was to clean down the cottage,
+and how Crump had promised to mow the grass and paint the
+greenhouse, and Jack and Bobbie were to weed the garden-paths.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is a perfect wilderness now, mother: you never saw
+such a place.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never mind, so that it will hold us, and that we shall
+all be together,&#8221; she returned, with a smile. &#8220;But Dulce talked
+of some plan: you must let me hear it, my dears; you must
+not keep me in the dark about anything. I know we shall all
+have to work,&#8221; continued the poor lady; &#8220;but if we be all together,
+if you will promise not to leave me, I think I could bear
+anything.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are we to tell her!&#8221; motioned Nan with her lips to Phillis;
+and as Phillis nodded, &#8220;Yes,&#8221; Nan gently and quietly began
+unfolding their plan.</p>
+<p>But, with all her care and all Phillis&#8217;s promptings, the revelation
+was a great shock to Mrs. Challoner; in her weakened state
+she seemed hardly able to bear it.</p>
+<p>Dulce repented bitterly her incautious whisper when she saw
+her sisters&#8217; tired faces, and their fruitless attempts to soften the
+effects of such a blow. For a little while, Mrs. Challoner seemed
+on the brink of despair; she would not listen; she abandoned
+herself to lamentations; she became so hysterical at last that
+Dorothy was summoned from the kitchen and taken into confidence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother, you are breaking our hearts,&#8221; Nan said, at last.
+She was kneeling at her feet, chafing her hands, and Phillis
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span>
+was fanning her; but she pushed them both away from her with
+weak violence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is I whose heart is breaking! Why must I live to see
+such things? Dorothy, do you know my daughters are going
+to be dressmakers?&mdash;my daughters, who are Challoners,&mdash;who
+have been delicately nurtured,&mdash;who might hold up their heads
+with any one?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dorothy, hold your tongue!&#8221; exclaimed Phillis, peremptorily.
+&#8220;You are not to speak; this is for us to decide, and no
+one else. Mammy, you are making Nan look quite pale: she is
+dreadfully tired, and so am I. Why need we decide anything
+to-night? Every one is upset and excited, and when that is
+the case one can never arrive at any proper conclusion. Let us
+talk about it to-morrow, when we are rested.&#8221; And, though
+Mrs. Challoner would not allow herself to be comforted, Nan&#8217;s
+fatigue and paleness were so visible to her maternal eyes that
+they were more eloquent than Phillis&#8217;s words.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I must not think only of myself. Yes, yes, I will do as you
+wish. There will be time enough for this sort of talk to-morrow.
+Dorothy, will you help me? The young ladies are tired; they
+have had a long journey. No, my dear, no,&#8221; as Dulce pressed
+forward; &#8220;I would rather have Dorothy.&#8221; And, as the old
+servant gave them a warning glance, they were obliged to let
+her have her way.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mammy has never been like this before,&#8221; pouted Dulce,
+when they were left alone. &#8220;She drives us away from her as
+though we had done something purposely to vex her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is because she cannot bear the sight of us to-night,&#8221;
+returned Phillis, solemnly. &#8220;It is worse for her than for us; a
+mother feels things for her children more than for herself; it is
+nature, that is what it is,&#8221; she finished philosophically; &#8220;but
+she will be better to-morrow.&#8221; And after this the miserable
+little conclave broke up.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner passed a sleepless night, and her pillow was
+sown with thorns. To think of the Challoners falling so low as
+this! To think of her pretty Nan, her clever, bright Phillis,
+her pet Dulce coming to this; &#8220;oh, the pity of it!&#8221; she cried
+in the dark hours, when vitality runs lowest, and thoughts seem
+to flow involuntarily towards a dark centre.</p>
+<p>But with the morning came sunshine, and her girl&#8217;s faces,&mdash;a
+little graver than usual, perhaps, but still full of youth and the
+brightness of energy; and the sluggish nightmare of yesterday&#8217;s
+grief began to fade a little.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, mammy, you are not going to be naughty to-day!&#8221;
+was Dulce&#8217;s morning salutation as she seated herself on the bed.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner smiled faintly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Was I very naughty last night, Dulce?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, as bad as possible. You pushed poor Nan and Phillis
+away, and would not let any one come near you but that cross
+old Dorothy, and you never bade us good-night; but if you
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span>
+promise to be good, I will forgive you and make it up,&#8221; finished
+Dulce, with those light butterfly kisses to which she was
+addicted.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, Chatterbox, it is my turn,&#8221; interrupted Phillis; and
+then she began a carefully concocted little speech, very carefully
+drawn out to suit her mother&#8217;s sensitive peculiarities.</p>
+<p>She went over the old ground patiently point by point. Mrs.
+Challoner shuddered at the idea of letting lodgings.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I knew you would agree with us,&#8221; returned Phillis, with a
+convincing nod; and then she went on to the next clause.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner argued a great deal about the governess
+scheme. She was quite angry with Phillis, and seemed to
+suffer a great deal of self-reproach, when the girl spoke of their
+defective education and lack of accomplishments. Nan had to
+come to her sister&#8217;s rescue; but the mother was slow to yield
+the point:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know what you mean. My girls are not different
+from other girls. What would your poor father say if he were
+alive? It is cruel to say this to me, when I stinted myself to
+give you every possible advantage, and I paid Miss Martin
+eighty pounds a year,&#8221; she concluded, tearfully, feeling as
+though she were the victim of a fraud.</p>
+<p>She was far more easily convinced that going out as companions
+would be impracticable under the circumstances. &#8220;Oh, no,
+that will never do!&#8221; she cried, when the two little rooms with
+Dulce were proposed; and after this Phillis found her task less
+difficult. She talked her mother over at last to reluctant
+acquiescence. &#8220;I never knew how I came to consent,&#8221; she
+said, afterwards, &#8220;but they were too much for me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We cannot starve. I suppose I must give in to you,&#8221; she
+said, at last; &#8220;but I shall never hold up my head again.&#8221; And
+she really believed what she said.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother, you must trust us,&#8221; replied Phillis, touched by this
+victory she had won. &#8220;Do you know what I said to Dulce?
+Work cannot degrade us. Though we are dressmakers, we are
+still Challoners. Nothing can make us lose our dignity and
+self-respect as gentlewomen.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Other people will not recognize it,&#8221; returned her mother,
+with a sigh. &#8220;You will lose caste. No one will visit you.
+Among your equals you will be treated as inferiors. It is this
+that bows me to the earth with shame.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother, how can you talk so?&#8221; cried Nan, in a clear, indignant
+voice. &#8220;What does it matter if people do not visit us?
+We must have a world of our own, and be sufficient for ourselves,
+if we can only keep together. Is not that what you
+have said to us over and over again? Well, we shall be together,
+we shall have each other. What does the outside world
+matter to us after all?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you are young; you do not know what complications
+may arise,&#8221; replied Mrs. Challoner, with the gloomy forethought
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span>
+of middle age. She thought she knew the world better than
+they, but in reality she was almost as guileless and ignorant as
+her daughters. &#8220;Until you begin, you do not know the difficulties
+that will beset you,&#8221; she went on.</p>
+<p>But notwithstanding this foreboding speech, she was some
+what comforted by Nan&#8217;s words: &#8220;they would be together!&#8221;
+Well, if Providence chose to inflict this humiliation and
+afflictive dispensation on her, it could be borne as long as she had
+her children around her.</p>
+<p>Nan made one more speech,&mdash;a somewhat stern one for her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Our trouble will be a furnace to try our friends. We shall
+know the true from the false. Only those who are really worth
+the name will be faithful to us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan was thinking of Dick; but her mother misunderstood her,
+and grew alarmed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You will not tell the Paines and the other people about here
+what you intend to do, surely? I could not bear that! no,
+indeed, I could not bear that!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do not be afraid, dear mother,&#8221; returned Nan, sadly, &#8220;we
+are far too great cowards to do such a thing, and, after all,
+there is no need to put ourselves to needless pain. If the Maynes
+were here we might not be able to keep it from them, perhaps,
+and so I am thankful they are away.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan said this quite calmly, though her mother fixed her eyes
+upon her in a most tenderly mournful fashion. She had quite
+forgotten their Longmead neighbors, but now, as Nan recalled
+them to her mind, she remembered Mr. Mayne, and her look
+had become compassionate.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It will be all over with those poor children,&#8221; she thought to
+herself: &#8220;the father will never allow it,&mdash;never; and I cannot
+wonder at him.&#8221; And then her heart softened to the memory
+of Dick, whom she had never thought good enough for Nan, for
+she remembered now with a sore pang that her pride was laid
+low in the dust, and that she could not hope now that her
+daughters would make splendid matches: even Dick would be
+above them, though his father had been in trade, and though he
+had no grandfather worth mentioning.</p>
+<p>A few days after their return from Hadleigh, there was an
+other long business interview with Mr. Trinder, in which every
+thing was settled. A tenant had already been found for the
+cottage. A young couple, on the eve of their marriage, who
+had long been looking for a suitable house in the neighborhood
+had closed at once with Mr. Trinder&#8217;s offer, and had taken the
+lease off their hands. The gentleman was a cousin of the Paines
+and, partly for the convenience of the in-coming tenants, and
+partly because the Challoners wished to move as soon as possible,
+there was only a delay of a few weeks before the actual
+flitting.</p>
+<p>It would be impossible to describe the dismay of the neighborhood
+when the news was circulated.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span></p>
+<p>Immediately after their return from Hadleigh, Nan and Phillis
+took counsel together, and, summoning up their courage, went
+from one to another of their friends and quietly announced their
+approaching departure.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother has had losses, and we are now dreadfully poor, and
+we are going to leave Glen Cottage and go down to a small house
+we have at Hadleigh,&#8221; said Nan, who by virtue of an additional
+year of age was spokeswoman on this occasion. She had fully
+rehearsed this little speech, which she intended to say at every
+house in due rotation. &#8220;We will not disguise the truth; we
+will let people know that we are poor, and then they will not
+expect impossibilities,&#8221; she said, as they walked down the shady
+roads towards the Paines&#8217; house,&mdash;for the Paines were their most
+intimate friends and had a claim to the first confidence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think that will be sufficient; no one has any right to know
+more,&#8221; she continued, decidedly, fully determined that no
+amount of coaxing and cross-examination should wring from
+her one unnecessary word.</p>
+<p>But she little knew how difficult it would be to keep their own
+counsel. The Paines were not alone: they very seldom were.
+Adelaide Sartoris was there, and the younger Miss Twentyman,
+and a young widow, a Mrs. Forbes, who was a distant connection
+of Mrs. Paine.</p>
+<p>Nan was convinced that they had all been talking about
+them, for there was rather an embarrassed pause as she and
+Phillis entered the room. Carrie looked a little confused as she
+greeted them.</p>
+<p>Nan sat down by Mrs. Paine, who was rather deaf, and in
+due time made her little speech. She was rather pale with the
+effort, and her voice faltered a little, but every word was heard
+at the other end of the room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Leave Glen Cottage, my dear? I can&#8217;t have heard you
+rightly. I am very deaf, to-day,&mdash;very. I think I must have
+caught cold.&#8221; And Mrs. Paine turned a mild face of perplexity
+on Nan; but, before she could reiterate her words, Carrie
+was on the footstool at her feet, and Miss Sartoris, with a grave
+look of concern on her handsome features, was standing beside
+her:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Nan! tell us all about it! Of course we saw something
+was the matter. Dulce was so strange that afternoon; and you
+have all been keeping yourselves invisible for ever so long.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is very little to tell,&#8221; returned Nan, trying to speak
+cheerfully. &#8220;Mother has had bad news. Mr. Gardiner is
+bankrupt, and all our invested money is gone. Of course we
+could not go on living at Glen Cottage. There is some talk,
+Carrie, of your cousin, Mr. Ibbetson, coming to look at it: it will
+be nice for us if he could take the lease off our hands, and then
+we should go down to the Friary.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How I shall hate to see Ralph there!&mdash;not but what it will
+suit him and Louisa well enough, I dare say. But never mind
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span>
+him: I want to know all about yourselves,&#8221; continued Carrie,
+affectionately. &#8220;This is dreadful, Nan! I can hardly believe
+it. What are we to do without you? and where is the Friary?
+and what is it like? and what will you do with yourselves when
+you get there?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed, that is what we want to know,&#8221; agreed Miss
+Sartoris, putting her delicately-gloved hand on Nan&#8217;s shoulder;
+and then Sophy Paine joined the little group, and Mrs. Forbes
+and Miss Twentyman left off talking to Phillis, and began
+listening; with all their might. Now it was that Nan began to
+foresee difficulties.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Friary is very small,&#8221; she went on, &#8220;but it will just
+hold us and Dorothy. Dorothy is coming with us, of course.
+She is old, but she works better than some of the young ones.
+She is a faithful creature&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>But Carrie interrupted her impatiently:</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, Nan, what will you do with yourselves? Hadleigh is
+a nice place, I believe. Mamma, we must all go down there
+next summer, and stay there,&mdash;you shall come with us, Adelaide,&mdash;and
+then we shall be able to cheer these poor things up;
+and Nan, you and Phillis must come and stay with us. We
+don&#8217;t mean to give you up like this. What does it matter about
+being poor? We are all old friends together. You shall give
+us tea at the Friary; and I dare say there are tennis-grounds at
+Hadleigh, and we will have nice times together.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course we will come and see you,&#8221; added Miss Sartoris,
+with a friendly pressure of Nan&#8217;s shoulder; but the poor girl
+only colored up and looked embarrassed, and then it was that
+Phillis, who was watching her opportunity, struck in:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are all very good; but, Carrie, I don&#8217;t believe you
+understand Nan one bit. When people lose their money they
+have to work. We shall all have to put our shoulder to the
+wheel. We would give you tea, of course, but as for paying
+visits and playing tennis, it is only idle girls like yourselves
+who have time for that sort of thing. It will be work and not
+play, I fear, with us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Phillis!&#8221; exclaimed poor Carrie, with tears in her eyes,
+and Miss Sartoris looked horrified, for she had West-Indian
+blood in her veins and was by nature somewhat indolent and
+pleasure-loving.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean you will have to be governesses?&#8221; she asked,
+with a touch of dismay in her voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We shall have to work,&#8221; returned Phillis, vaguely. &#8220;When
+we are settled at the Friary we must look round us and do the
+best we can.&#8221; This was felt to be vague by the whole party;
+but Phillis&#8217;s manner was so bold and well assured that no one
+suspected that anything lay beyond the margin of her speech.
+They had not made up their minds, perhaps; Sir Francis
+Challoner would assist them; or there were other sources of
+help: they must move into the new house first, and then see what
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span>
+was to be done. It was so plausible, so sensible, that every one
+was deceived.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course you cannot decide in such a hurry: you must
+have so much to do just now,&#8221; observed Carrie. &#8220;You must
+write and tell us all your plans, Phillis, and if there be anything
+we can do to help you. Mamma, we might have Mrs.
+Challoner here while the cottage is dismantled. Do spare her
+to us, Nan, and we will take such care of her!&#8221; And they
+were still discussing this point, and trying to overrule Nan&#8217;s
+objections,&mdash;who knew nothing would induce her mother to
+leave them,&mdash;when other visitors were announced, and in the
+confusion they were allowed to make their escape.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XII_LADDIE_PUTS_IN_AN_APPEARANCE' id='CHAPTER_XII_LADDIE_PUTS_IN_AN_APPEARANCE'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;LADDIE&#8221; PUTS IN AN APPEARANCE.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>&#8220;I think we have managed that as well as possible!&#8221; exclaimed
+Phillis, when they found themselves outside the gates.
+&#8220;What a good thing Adelaide and Mrs. Forbes and Lily were
+there! Now we need only call at those three houses to say
+good-bye. How hot you look, Nan! and how they all hemmed
+you in! I was obliged to come to your rescue, you were so
+beset; but I think I have put them off the scent.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, for the present; but think, Phil, if Carrie really carries
+out her intention, and all the Paine tribe and Adelaide come
+down to Hadleigh next summer! No wonder I am hot; the
+bare idea suffocates me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Something may turn up before then; it is no good looking
+so far ahead,&#8221; was the philosophical rejoinder. &#8220;Adelaide is
+rather formidable, certainly, and, in spite of her good nature,
+one does not feel at home with her. There is a flavor of money
+about her, I think; she dresses, talks, and lives in such a gilded
+way one finds her heavy; but she may get married before then.
+Mr. Dalrymple certainly seemed to mean it when he was down
+here last winter, and he will be a good match for her. But here
+we are at Fitzroy Square. I wonder what sort of humor her
+ladyship will be in?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Fitzroy received them very graciously. She had just
+been indulging in a slight dispute with her husband, and the
+interruption was welcome to both of them; besides, she was
+always gracious to the Challoners.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have just come in time, for we were boring each other
+dreadfully,&#8221; she said, in her pretty languid way, holding out a
+hand to each of them. &#8220;Percival, will you ring the bell,
+please? I cannot think why Thorpe does not bring up the tea
+as usual!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span></p>
+<p>Lord Fitzroy obeyed his wife&#8217;s behest, and then he turned
+with a relieved air to his old friend Phillis. She was the clever
+one; and though some people called her quiet, that was because
+they did not draw her out, or she had no sympathy with them.
+He had always found her decidedly amusing and agreeable in
+the days of his bachelorhood.</p>
+<p>He had married the beauty of a season, but the beauty was
+not without her little crotchets and tempers; and though he
+was both fond and proud of his wife, he found Phillis&#8217;s talk a
+relief this afternoon.</p>
+<p>But Phillis was a little <i>distraite</i> on this occasion: she wanted
+to hear what Nan was saying in a low voice across the room,
+and Thorpe and his subordinate were setting the tea-table, and
+Lord Fitzroy would place himself just before her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now look here, Miss Challoner,&#8221; he was saying, &#8220;I want to
+tell you all about it;&#8221; but here Thorpe left the room, and Lady
+Fitzroy interrupted them:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Percival, what a pity! Do you hear?&mdash;we are going
+to lose our nicest neighbors? Dear little Glen Cottage is to be
+empty in a week or so!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Ralph Ibbetson will decide to take it, I think; and he
+and Miss Blake are to be married on the 16th of next month,&#8221;
+returned Nan, softly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ibbetson at Glen Cottage! that red-headed fellow! My
+dear Miss Challoner, what sacrilege!&mdash;what desecration!
+What do you mean by forsaking us in this fashion? Are you
+all going to be married? Has Sir Francis died and left you a
+fortune? In the name of all that is mysterious, what is the
+meaning of this?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you will let a person speak, Percival,&#8221; returned his wife,
+with dignity, &#8220;you shall have an answer:&#8221; and then she
+looked up in his handsome, good-natured face, and her manner
+softened insensibly. &#8220;Poor dear Mrs. Challoner has had losses!
+Some one has played her false, and they are obliged to leave
+Glen Cottage. But Hadleigh is a nice place,&#8221; she went on,
+turning to Nan: &#8220;it is very select.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where did you say, Evelyn?&#8221; inquired her husband,
+eagerly. &#8220;Hadleigh, in Sussex? Oh, that is a snug little
+place; no Toms and Harries go down there on a nine hours&#8217; trip.
+I was there myself once, with the Shannontons. Perhaps Lady
+Fitzroy and I may run down one day and have a look at you,&#8221;
+he continued, with a friendly look at Phillis. It was only one
+of his good-natured speeches, but his wife took umbrage at it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The sea never agrees with me. I thought you knew that,
+Percival!&#8221; rather reproachfully; &#8220;but I dare say we shall
+often see you here,&#8221; she went on, fearing Nan would think her
+ungracious. &#8220;You and the Paines are so intimate that they
+are sure to have you for weeks together; it is so pleasant revisiting
+an old neighborhood, is it not? I know I always feel
+that with regard to Nuneaton.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Nuneaton never suits my constitution. I thought you
+would have remembered that, Evelyn,&#8221; returned her husband,
+gravely; and then they both laughed. Lord Fitzroy was not
+without a sense of humor, and often restored amity by a joking
+word after this fashion, and then the conversation proceeded
+more smoothly.</p>
+<p>Nan and Phillis felt far more at their ease here than they had
+felt at the Paines&#8217;. There were no awkward questions asked:
+Lady Fitzroy was far too well bred for that. If she wondered
+at all how the Challoners were to live after they had lost their
+money, she kept such remarks for her husband&#8217;s private ear.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Those girls ought to marry well,&#8221; observed Lord Fitzroy,
+when he found himself alone again with his wife. &#8220;Miss Challoner
+is as pretty a creature as one need see, but Miss Phillis has
+the most in her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How are they to meet people if they are going to bury themselves
+in a little sea-side place?&#8221; she returned, regretfully.
+&#8220;Shall I put on my habit now, Percy? do you think it will be
+cool enough for our ride?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, run along, my pet, and don&#8217;t keep me too long waiting.&#8221;
+Nevertheless, Lord Fitzroy did not object when his wife
+made room for him a moment beside her on the couch, while
+she made it up to him for her cross speeches, as she told him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, little mother, it is all done!&#8221; exclaimed Phillis, in
+a tone of triumph, as later on in the afternoon they returned to
+the cottage; but in spite of her bravado, both the girls looked
+terribly jaded, and Nan especially seemed out of spirits; but
+then they had been round the Longmead garden, and had
+gathered some flowers in the conservatory, and this alone would
+have been depressing work to Nan.</p>
+<p>From that time they lived in a perpetual whirl, a bustle of
+activity that grew greater; and not less, from day to day. Mrs.
+Challoner had quietly but decidedly refused the Paines&#8217; invitation.
+Nan was right; nothing would have induced her to leave
+her girls in their trouble: she made light of their discomfort,
+forgot her invalid airs, and persisted in fatiguing herself to an
+alarming extent.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must let me do things; I should be wretched to sit
+with my hands before me, and not help you,&#8221; she said with
+tears in her eyes, and when they appealed in desperation to
+Dorothy, she took her mistress&#8217;s side:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Working hurts less than worrying. Don&#8217;t you be fretting
+about the mistress too much, or watching her too closely. It will
+do her no harm, take my word for it.&#8221; And Dorothy was
+right.</p>
+<p>But there was one piece of work that Nan set her mother to
+do before they left the cottage.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother,&#8221; she said to her one day when they were alone
+together. &#8220;Mrs. Mayne will be wondering why you do not
+answer her letter. I think you had better write, and tell her a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span>
+little about things. We must not put it off any longer, or she
+will be hurt with us.&#8221; And Mrs. Challoner very reluctantly set
+about her unpleasant task.</p>
+<p>But, after all, it was Nan who furnished the greater part of
+the composition. Mrs. Challoner was rather verbose and descriptive
+in her style. Nan cut down her sentences ruthlessly,
+and so pruned and simplified the whole epistle that her mother
+failed to trace her own handiwork: and at the last she added a
+postscript in her own pretty handwriting.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner was rather dissatisfied with the whole thing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have said so little, Nan! Mrs. Mayne will be quite
+affronted at our reticence.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is the use of harrowing people&#8217;s feelings?&#8221; was Nan&#8217;s
+response.</p>
+<p>It was quite true she had dwelt as little as possible on their
+troubles.</p>
+<p>The few opening sentences had related solely to their friends&#8217;
+affairs.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You will be sorry to hear,&#8221; Mrs. Challoner wrote after this,
+&#8220;that I have met with some severe losses. I dare say Mr.
+Mayne will remember that my poor husband invested our little
+income in the business of his cousin, Mark Gardiner. We have
+just heard the unwelcome news that Gardiner &amp; Fowler have
+failed for a large amount. Under these circumstances, we think
+it more prudent to leave Glen Cottage as soon as possible, and
+settle at Hadleigh, where we have a small house belonging to
+us called the Friary. Fortunately for us, Mr. Trinder has
+found us a tenant, who will take the remainder of the lease off
+our hands. Do you remember Mr. Ralph Ibbetson, the Paines&#8217;
+cousin, that rather heavy-looking young man, with reddish
+hair, who was engaged to that pretty Miss Blake?&mdash;well, he has
+taken Glen Cottage; and I hope you will find them nice neighbors.
+Tell Dick he must not be too sorry to miss his old friends,
+but of course you will understand this is a sad break to us.
+Settling down in a new place is never very pleasant; and as
+my girls will have to help themselves, and we shall all have to
+learn to do without things, it will be somewhat of a discipline to
+us; but as long as we are together, we all feel, such difficulties
+can be easily borne.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Tell Mr. Mayne that, if I had foreseen how things were to
+turn out, I would have conquered my indisposition, and not
+have forfeited my last evening at Longmead.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And in the postscript Nan wrote hurriedly,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must not be too sorry for us, dear Mrs. Mayne, for
+mother is as brave as possible, and we are all determined to
+make the best of things.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course it is very sad leaving dear Glen Cottage, where
+we have spent such happy, happy days; but, though the Friary
+is small, we shall make it very comfortable. Tell Dick the
+garden is a perfect wilderness at present, and that there are no
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span>
+roses,&mdash;only a splendid passion-flower that covers the whole back
+of the house.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan never knew why she wrote this. Was it to remind him
+vaguely that the time of roses was over, and that from this day
+things would be different with them?</p>
+<p>Nan was quite satisfied when she had despatched this letter. It
+told just enough, and not too much. It sorely perplexed and
+troubled Dick; and yet neither he nor his father had the least
+idea how things really were with the Challoners.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Didn&#8217;t I tell you so, Bessie?&#8221; exclaimed Mr. Mayne, almost
+in a voice of triumph, as he struck his hand upon the letter.
+&#8220;Paine was right when he spoke of a shaky investment. That
+comes of women pretending to understand business. A pretty
+mess they seem to have made of it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother,&#8221; said poor Dick, coming up to her when he found
+himself alone with her for a moment, &#8220;I don&#8217;t understand this
+letter. I cannot read between the lines, somehow, and yet
+there seems something more than meets the eye.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sure it is bad enough,&#8221; returned Mrs. Mayne, who had
+been quietly crying over Nan&#8217;s postscript. &#8220;Think of them
+leaving Glen Cottage, and of these poor dear girls having to
+make themselves useful!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is just that that bothers me so,&#8221; replied Dick, with a
+frowning brow. &#8220;The letter tells us so little; it is so constrained
+in tone; as though they were keeping something from us.
+Of course they have something to live upon, but I am afraid it
+is very little.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very likely they will only have one servant,&mdash;just Dorothy
+and no one else; and the girls will have to help in the house,&#8221;
+returned his mother, thoughtfully. &#8220;That will not do them
+any harm, Dick: it always improves girls to make them useful.
+I dare say the Friary is a very small place, and then I am sure,
+with a little help, Dorothy will do very well.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, mother,&#8221; pleaded Dick, who was somewhat comforted
+by this sensible view of the matter, &#8220;do write to Nan or Phillis
+and beg of them to give us fuller particulars.&#8221; And, though
+Mrs. Mayne promised she would do so, and kept her word, Dick
+was not satisfied, but sat down and scrawled a long letter to Mrs.
+Challoner, so incoherent in its expressions of sympathy and
+regret that it quite mystified her; but Nan thought it perfect,
+and took possession of it, and read it every day, until it got
+quite thin and worn. One sentence especially pleased her. &#8220;I
+don&#8217;t intend ever to cross the threshold of the cottage again,&#8221;
+wrote Dick: &#8220;in fact, Oldfield will be hateful without you all.
+Of course I shall run down to Hadleigh at Christmas and look
+you up, and see for myself what sort of a place the Friary is.
+Tell Nan I will get her lots of roses for her garden so she need
+not trouble about that; and give them my love, and tell them
+how awfully sorry I am about it all.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Poor Dick! the news of his friends&#8217; misfortunes took off the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span>
+edge of his enjoyment for a long time. Thanks to Nan&#8217;s unselfishness,
+he did not in the least realize the true state of affairs;
+nevertheless, his honest heart was heavy at the thought of the
+empty cottage, and he was quite right in saying Oldfield had
+grown suddenly hateful to him, and, though he kept these
+thoughts to himself as much as possible, Mr. Mayne saw that
+his son was depressed and ill at ease, and sent him away to the
+Swiss Tyrol, with a gay party of young people, hoping a few
+weeks&#8217; change would put the Challoners out of his head. Meanwhile
+Nan and her sisters worked busily, and their friends
+crowded round them, helping or hindering, according to their
+nature.</p>
+<p>On the last afternoon there was a regular invasion of the
+cottage. The drawing-room carpet was up, and the room was
+full of packing-cases. Carrie Paine had taken possession of one
+and her sister Sophy and Lily Twentyman had a turned-up box
+between them. Miss Sartoris and Gussie Scobell had wicker
+chairs. Dorothy had just brought in tea, and had placed before
+Nan a heterogeneous assemblage of kitchen cups and saucers,
+mugs, and odds and ends of crockery, when Lady Fitzroy entered
+in her habit, accompanied by her sister, the Honorable Maud
+Burgoyne, both of whom seemed to enjoy the picnic excessively.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do let me have the mug,&#8221; implored Miss Burgoyne: she was
+a pretty little brunette with a <i>nez retrousse</i>. &#8220;I have never
+drunk out of one since my nursery days. How cool it is, after
+the sunny roads! I think carpets ought to be abolished in the
+summer. When I have a house of my own, Evelyn, I mean to
+have Indian matting and nothing else in the warm weather.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am very fond of Indian matting,&#8221; returned her sister,
+sipping her tea contentedly. &#8220;Fitzroy hoped to have looked in
+this afternoon, Mrs. Challoner, to say good-bye, but there is an
+assault-at-arms at the Albert Hall, and he is taking my young
+brother Algernon to see it. He is quite inconsolable at the
+thought of losing such pleasant neighbors, and sent all sorts of
+pretty messages,&#8221; finished Lady Fitzroy, graciously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Here is Edgar,&#8221; exclaimed Carrie Paine; &#8220;he told us that
+he meant to put in an appearance; but I am afraid the poor boy
+will find himself <i>de trop</i> among so many ladies.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Edgar was the youngest Paine,&mdash;a tall Eton boy, who looked
+as though he would soon be too big for jackets, and an especial
+friend of Nan&#8217;s.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How good of you to come and say good-bye, Gar!&#8221; she said
+summoning him to her side, as the boy looked round him blushing
+and half terrified. &#8220;What have you got there under your
+jacket?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is the puppy I promised you,&#8221; returned Edgar, eagerly;
+&#8220;don&#8217;t you know?&mdash;Nell&#8217;s puppy? Father said I might have
+it.&#8221; And he deposited a fat black retriever puppy at Nan&#8217;s feet.
+The little beast made a clumsy rush at her and then rolled over
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span>
+on its back. Nan took it up in high delight, and showed it to
+her mother.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Isn&#8217;t it good of Gar, mother? and when we all wanted a dog
+so! We have never had a pet since poor old Juno died; and
+this will be such a splendid fellow when he grows up. Look
+at his head and curly black paws; and what a dear solemn face
+he has got!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am glad you like him,&#8221; replied Edgar, who was now perfectly
+at his ease. &#8220;We have christened him &#8216;Laddie:&#8217; he is
+the handsomest puppy of the lot, and our man Jake says he is
+perfectly healthy.&#8221; And then, as Nan cut him some cake, he
+proceeded to enlighten her on the treatment of this valuable
+animal.</p>
+<p>The arrival of &#8220;Laddie&#8221; made quite a diversion, and, when
+the good-byes were all said, Nan took the little animal in her
+arms and went with Phillis for the last time to gather flowers
+in the Longmead garden, and when the twilight came on the
+three girls went slowly through the village, bidding farewell to
+their old haunts.</p>
+<p>It was all very sad, and nobody slept much that night in the
+cottage. Nan&#8217;s tears were shed very quietly, but they fell thick
+and fast.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Dick, it is hard&mdash;hard!&#8221; thought the poor girl, burying
+her face in the pillow; &#8220;but I have not let you know the day,
+so you will not be thinking of us. I would not pain you for
+worlds, Dick, not more than I can help.&#8221; And then she dried
+her eyes and told herself that she must be brave for all their
+sakes to-morrow; but, for all her good resolutions, sleep would
+not come to her any more than it did to Phillis, who lay open-eyed
+and miserable until morning.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XIII_I_MUST_HAVE_GRACE' id='CHAPTER_XIII_I_MUST_HAVE_GRACE'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;I MUST HAVE GRACE.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>When the Rev. Archibald Drummond was nominated to the
+living of Hadleigh in Sussex, it was at once understood by his
+family that he had achieved a decided success in life.</p>
+<p>Hadleigh until very recently had been a perpetual curacy, and
+the perpetual curate in charge had lived in the large, shabby
+house with the green door on the Braidwood Road, as it was
+called. There had been some talk of a new vicarage, but as yet
+the first brick had not been laid, the building-committee had
+fallen out on the question of the site, and nothing had been
+definitely arranged: there was a good deal of talk, too, about
+the church restoration, but at the present moment nothing had
+been done.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span></p>
+<p>Mr. Drummond had not been disturbed in his mind by the
+delay of the building-committee in the matter of the new vicarage,
+but on the topic of the church restoration he had been
+heard to say very bitter things,&mdash;far too bitter, it was thought,
+to proceed from the lips of such a new-comer. It is not always
+wise to be outspoken, and when Mr. Drummond expressed himself
+a little too frankly on the ugliness of the sacred edifice,
+which until lately had been a chapel-of-ease, he had caused a
+great deal of dissatisfaction in the mind of his hearers; but
+when the young vicar, still strongly imbued with the beauties
+of Oxford architecture, had looked round blankly on the great
+square pews and galleries, and then at the wooden pulpit, and
+the Ten Commandments that adorned the east end, he was not
+quite so sure in his mind that his position was as enviable as
+that of other men.</p>
+<p>Church architecture was his hobby, and, if the truth must be
+told, he was a little &#8220;High&#8221; in his views; without attaching
+himself to the Ultra-Ritualistic party, he was still strongly impregnated
+with many of their ideas; he preferred Gregorian to
+Anglican chants, and would have had no objection to incense if
+his diocesan could have been brought to appreciate it too.</p>
+<p>An ornate service was decidedly to his taste. It was, therefore,
+a severe mortification when he found himself compelled to
+minister Sunday after Sunday in a building that was ugly
+enough for a conventicle, and to listen to the florid voices of a
+mixed choir, instead of the orderly array of men and boys in
+white surplices to which he had been accustomed. If he had
+been combative by nature,&mdash;one who loved to gird his armor
+about him and to plunge into every sort of <i>melee</i>,&mdash;he would
+have rejoiced after a fashion at the thought of the work cut out
+for him, of bringing order and beauty out of this chaos; but he
+was by nature too impatient. He would have condemned and
+destroyed instead of trying to renovate.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why not build a new church at once?&#8221; he said, with a
+certain youthful intolerance that made people angry. &#8220;Never
+mind the vicarage; the old house will last my time: but a place
+like this&mdash;a rising place&mdash;ought to have a church worthy of it.
+It will be money thrown away to restore this one,&#8221; finished the
+young vicar, looking round him with sorely troubled eyes; and
+it was this outspoken frankness that had lost him popularity at
+first.</p>
+<p>But, if the new vicar had secret cause for discontent in
+the Drummond family there was nothing but the sweetness of
+triumph.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Archie has never given me a moment&#8217;s trouble from his
+birth,&#8221; his proud mother was wont to declare; and it must be
+owned that the young man had done very fairly for himself.</p>
+<p>There had been plenty of anxiety in the Drummond household
+while Archibald was enjoying his first Oxford term. Things
+had come to a climax: his father, who was a Leeds manufacturer,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span>
+had failed most utterly, and to a large amount. The firm
+of Drummond &amp; Drummond, once known as a most respectable
+and reliable firm, had come suddenly, but not unexpectedly to
+the ground; and Archibald Drummond the elder had been compelled
+to accept a managership in the very firm that, by competition
+and underselling, had helped to ruin him.</p>
+<p>It was a heavy trial to a man of Mr. Drummond&#8217;s proud
+temperament; but he went through with it in a tough, dogged
+way that excited his wife&#8217;s admiration. True, his bread was
+bitter to him for a long time, and the sweetness of life, as he told
+himself, was over for him; but he had a large family to maintain,
+sons and daughters growing up around him, and the
+youngest was not yet six months old; under such circumstances
+a man may be induced to put his pride in his pocket.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your father has grown quite gray, and has begun to stoop.
+It makes my heart quite ache to see him sometimes,&#8221; Mrs.
+Drummond wrote to her eldest son; &#8220;but he never says a
+word to any of us. He just goes through with it day after
+day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>At that time Archie was her great comfort. He had begun to
+make his own way early in life, understanding from the first
+that his parents could do very little for him. He had worked
+well at school, and had succeeded in obtaining one or two
+scholarships. When his university life commenced, and the
+household at Leeds became straitened in their circumstances, he
+determined not to encumber them with his presence.</p>
+<p>He soon became known in his college as a reading-man and a
+steady worker; he was fortunate, too, in obtaining pupils for
+the long vacation. By and by he became a fellow and tutor of
+his college, and before he was eight-and-twenty the living of
+Hadleigh was offered to him. It was not at all a rich living,&mdash;not
+being worth more than three hundred a year,&mdash;and some of
+his Oxford friends would have dissuaded him from accepting
+it; but Archibald Drummond was not of their opinion. Oxford
+did not suit his constitution; he was never well there. Sussex
+air, and especially the sea-side, would give him just the tone he
+required. He liked the big old-fashioned house that would be
+allotted to him. He could take pupils and add to his income in
+that way; at present he had his fellowship. It was only in the
+event of his marriage that his income might not be found sufficient.
+At the present moment he had no matrimonial intentions:
+there was only one thing on which he was determined,
+and that was, that Grace must live with him and keep his
+house.</p>
+<p>Grace was the sister next to him in age. Mattie,&mdash;or Matilda,
+as her mother often called her,&mdash;was the eldest of the family,
+and was two years older than Archibald. Between him and
+Grace there were two brothers, Fred and Clyde, and beyond
+Grace a string of girls ending in Dottie, who was not yet ten.
+Archibald used to forget their ages and mix them up in the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span>
+most helpless way; he was never quite sure if Isabel were
+eighteen or twenty, or whether Clara or Susie came next. He
+once forgot Laura altogether, and was only reminded of her
+existence by the shock of surprise at seeing the awkward-looking,
+ungainly girl standing before him, looking shyly up in his
+face.</p>
+<p>Archibald was never quite alive to the blessing of having seven
+sisters, none of them with any pretension to beauty, unless it
+were Grace, though he was obliged to confess on his last visit to
+Leeds that Isabel was certainly passable-looking. He tried to
+take a proper amount of interest in them and be serenely unconscious
+of their want of grace and polish; but the effort was
+too manifest, and neither Clara nor Susie nor Laura regarded
+their grave elder brother with any lively degree of affection.
+Mrs. Drummond was a somewhat stern and exacting mother,
+but she was never so difficult to please as when her eldest son
+was at home.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Home is never so comfortable when Archie is in it,&#8221; Susie
+would grumble to her favorite confidante, Grace. &#8220;Every one
+is obliged to be on their best behavior; and yet mother finds
+fault from morning to night. Dottie is crying now because she
+has been scolded for coming down to tea in a dirty pinafore.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, hush, Susie dear! you ought not to say such things,&#8221;
+returned Grace, in her quiet voice.</p>
+<p>Poor Grace! these visits of Archie were her only pleasures.
+The brother and sister were devoted to each other. In Archie&#8217;s
+eyes not one of the others was to be compared to her; and in
+this he was perfectly right.</p>
+<p>Grace Drummond was a tall, sweet-looking girl of two-and-twenty,&mdash;not
+pretty, except in her brother&#8217;s opinion, but possessing
+a soft, fair comeliness that made her pleasant to look
+upon. In voice and manner she was extremely quiet,&mdash;almost
+grave; and only those who lived with her had any idea of the
+repressed strength and energy of her character, and the almost
+masculine clearness of intellect that lay under the soft exterior.
+One side of her nature was hidden from every one but her
+brother, and to him only revealed by intermittent flashes, and
+that was the passionate absorption of her affection in him. To
+her parents she was dutiful and submissive, but when she grew
+up the yoke of her mother&#8217;s will was felt to be oppressive. Her
+father&#8217;s nature was more in sympathy with her own; but even
+with him she was reticent. She was good to all her brothers
+and sisters, and especially devoted to Dottie; but her affection
+for them was so strongly pervaded by anxiety and the overweight
+of responsibility that its pains overbalanced its pleasures.
+She loved them, and toiled in their service from morning to
+night; but as yet she had not felt herself rewarded by any decided
+success. But in Archie her pride was equal to her love; she
+was critical, and her standard was somewhat high, but he satisfied
+her. What other people recognized as faults, she regarded
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span>
+as the merest blemishes. Without being absolutely faultless,
+which was of course impossible in a creature of flesh and blood,
+he was still as near perfection, she thought, as he could be.
+Perhaps her affection for him blinded her somewhat, and cast
+a sort of loving glamour over her eyes; for it must be owned that
+Archibald was by no means extraordinary in either goodness or
+cleverness. From a boy she had watched his career with dazzled
+eyes, rejoicing in every stroke of success that came to him as
+though it were her own. Her own life was dull and laborious,
+spent in the overcrowded house in Lowder Street, but she forgot
+it in following his. Now and then bright days came to her,&mdash;few
+in number, but absolutely golden, when this dearly-loved
+brother came on a brief visit,&mdash;when they had snatches of delicious
+talk in the empty school-room at the top of the house, or
+he took her out with him for a long, quiet walk.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Drummond always made some dry sarcastic remark
+when they came in, for she was secretly jealous of Archie&#8217;s affection
+for Grace. Hers was rather a monopolizing nature, and
+she would willingly have had the first share in her son&#8217;s affections.
+It somewhat displeased her to see him so wrapt up in
+the one sister to the exclusion of all the others, as she told him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think you might have asked Matilda or Isabel to accompany
+you. The poor girls never see anything of you, Archie,&#8221;
+she would say plaintively to her son. But to Grace she would
+speak somewhat sharply, bidding her fulfil some neglected duty,
+which another could as well have performed, and making her
+at once understand by her manner that she was to blame in
+leaving Mattie at home.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother,&#8221; Archibald said to her one day, when she had
+spoken with unusual severity, and the poor girl had retreated
+from the room, feeling as though she had been convicted of
+selfishness, &#8220;we must settle the matter about which I spoke to
+you last night. I have been thinking about it ever since. Mattie
+will not do at all. I must have Grace!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Drummond looked up from her mending, and her thin
+lips settled into a hard line that they always took when her
+mind was made up on a disagreeable subject. She had a pinafore
+belonging to Dottie in her hand; there was a jagged rent in it,
+and she sighed impatiently as she put it down; though she was
+not a woman who shirked any of her maternal duties, she had
+often been heard to say that her work was never done, and that
+her mending-basket was never empty.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But if I cannot spare Grace,&#8221; she said, rather shortly, as
+she meditated another lecture to the delinquent Dottie.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, mother, you must spare her!&#8221; returned her son,
+eagerly, leaning his elbow on the mantelpiece, and watching
+her rapid manipulations with apparent interest. &#8220;Look here;
+I am quite in earnest. I have set my heart on having Grace.
+She is just the one to manage a clergyman&#8217;s household. She
+would be my right hand in the parish.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;She is our right hand too, Archie; but I suppose we are to
+cut it off, that it may benefit you and your parish.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Drummond seldom spoke so sharply to her eldest son;
+but this request of his was grievous to her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think Grace ought to be considered, too, in the matter,&#8221;
+he returned, somwhat sullenly. &#8220;She works harder than any
+paid governess, and gets small thanks for her trouble.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She does her duty,&#8221; returned Mrs. Drummond, coldly,&mdash;she
+very seldom praised any of her children,&mdash;&#8220;but not more
+than Mattie does hers. You are prejudiced strongly against
+your sister, Archie; you are not fair to her in any way. Mattie
+is a capital little housekeeper. She is economical, and full of
+clever contrivances. It is not as though I asked you to try
+Isabel. She is well enough, too, in her way, but a little flighty,
+and rather too pretty, perhaps&mdash;&#8221; but here a laugh from Archie
+grated on her ear.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Too pretty!&mdash;what an absurd idea! The girl is passable-looking,
+and I will not deny that she has improved lately; but,
+mother, there is not one of the girls that can be called pretty
+except Grace.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Drummond winced at her son&#8217;s outspoken words. The
+plainness of her daughters was a sore subject.</p>
+<p>She had never understood why her girls were so ordinary-looking.
+She had been a handsome girl in her time, and was
+still a fine-looking woman. Her husband, too, had had a fair
+amount of good looks, and, though he stooped, was still admirable
+in her eyes. The boys, too, were thoroughly fine fellows. Fred
+was decidedly handsome, and so was Clyde; and as for her
+favorite Archie, Mrs. Drummond glanced up at him as he stood
+beside her.</p>
+<p>He certainly looked a model young clergyman. His features
+were good, but the lower part of his face was quite hidden by
+the fair mustache and the soft silky beard. He had thoughtful
+gray eyes, which could look as severe as hers sometimes; and,
+though his shoulders were somewhat too sloping, there could
+be no fault found with his figure. He was as nice-looking as
+possible, she thought, and no mother could have been better
+satisfied. But why, with the exception of Grace and Isabel,
+were her girls so deficient in outward graces? It could not be
+denied that they were very ordinary girls. Laura was overgrown
+and freckled, and had red hair; Susie was sickly-looking,
+and so short-sighted that they feared she would have to take to
+spectacles; and Clara was stolid and heavy-looking, one of
+those thick-set girls that dress never seems to improve.
+Dottie had a funny little face; but one could not judge of her
+yet. And Mattie,&mdash;Mrs. Drummond sighed again as she thought
+of her eldest daughter,&mdash;Mattie was thirty; and her mother
+felt she would never marry. It was not that she was so
+absolutely plain,&mdash;people who liked her said Mattie had a nice
+face,&mdash;but she was so abrupt, so uncouth in her awkwardness,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span>
+such a stranger to the minor morals of life, that it would be a
+wonder indeed if she could find favor in any man&#8217;s eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do think you are too hard on your sisters,&#8221; returned Mrs.
+Drummond, stung by her son&#8217;s remark. &#8220;Isabel was very
+much admired at her first party last week. Mrs. Cochrane told
+me so, and so did Miss Blair.&#8221; She could have added that her
+maternal interest had been strongly stirred by the mention of a
+certain Mr. Ellis Burton, who she had understood had paid a
+great deal of attention that evening to Isabel, and who was
+the eldest son of a wealthy manufacturer in Leeds. But Mrs.
+Drummond had some good old-fashioned notions, and one of
+these was never to speak on such delicate subjects as the
+matrimonial prospects of her daughters: indeed, she often
+thanked heaven she was not a match-making mother,&mdash;which
+was as well, under the circumstances.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, well, we are not talking about Isabel,&#8221; returned her
+son, impatiently. &#8220;The question is about Grace, mother. I
+really do wish very much that you and my father would stretch
+a point for me here. I want her more than I can say.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, Archie, you must be reasonable. Just think a moment.
+Your father cannot afford to send the girls to school, or
+to pay for a good finishing governess. We have given Grace
+every advantage; and just as she is making herself really useful
+to me in the school-room, you want to deprive me of her
+services.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know I offered to pay for Clara&#8217;s schooling,&#8221; returned
+her son, reproachfully. &#8220;She is more than sixteen, is she not!
+Surely Mattie could teach the others?&#8221;</p>
+<p>But Mrs. Drummond&#8217;s clear, concise voice interrupted him:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Archie, how can you talk such nonsense? You know poor
+Mattie was never good at book-learning. She would hardly do
+for Dottie. Ask Grace, if you doubt my word.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course I do not doubt it, mother,&#8221; in rather an aggravated
+voice, for he felt he was having the worst of the argument.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then why do you not believe me when I tell you the thing
+you ask is impossible?&#8221; replied his mother more calmly. &#8220;I
+am sorry for you if you are disappointed, Archie; but you
+undervalue Mattie,&mdash;you do indeed. She will make you a nice
+little housekeeper, and, though she is not clever, she is so amiable
+that nothing ever puts her out; and visiting the poor and
+sick-nursing are more in her line than in Grace&#8217;s. Mrs. Blair
+finds her invaluable. She wanted her for one of her district
+visitors, and I said she had too much to do at home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Archie shrugged his shoulders. Mrs. Blair was the wife of
+the vicar of All Saints&#8217;, where the Drummonds attended, and
+from a boy she had been his pet aversion. She was a bustling,
+managing woman, and of course Mattie was just to her taste.
+He did not see much use in continuing the conversation; with
+all his affection for his mother,&mdash;and she was better loved by
+her sons than by her daughters,&mdash;he knew her to be as immovable
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span>
+as a rock when she had once made up her mind. He
+thought at first of appealing to his father on Grace&#8217;s behalf, but
+abandoned this notion after a few minutes&#8217; reflection. His
+father was decided and firm in all matters relating to business,
+but for many years past he had abandoned the domestic reins to
+his wife&#8217;s capable hands. Perhaps he had proved her worth
+and prudence; perhaps he thought the management of seven
+daughters too much for any man. Anyhow, he interfered less
+and less as the years went on; and if at any time he differed from
+his wife, she could always talk him over, as her son well knew.</p>
+<p>When the subject had been first mooted in the household, he
+had said a word or two to his father, and had found him very
+reluctant to entertain the idea of parting with Grace. She was
+his favorite daughter, and he thought how he should miss her
+when he came home weary and jaded at night.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think it will do at all,&#8221; he had said, in an undecided
+dissatisfied tone. &#8220;Won&#8217;t one of the other girls serve your
+turn? There&#8217;s Mattie, or that little monkey Isabel, she is as
+pert and lively as possible. But Grace; why, she is every one&#8217;s
+right hand. What would the mother or the young ones do without
+her?&#8221;</p>
+<p>No; it was no use appealing to his father, Archie thought, and
+might only make mischief in the house. He and Grace must
+make up their mind to a few more years&#8217; separation. He turned
+away after his mother&#8217;s last speech, and finally left the room
+without saying another word. There was a cloud on his face,
+and Mrs. Drummond saw that he was much displeased; but,
+though she sighed again as she took up a pair of Clyde&#8217;s socks
+and inspected them carefully, there was no change in her resolution
+that Mattie, and not Grace, should go to the vicarage for
+the year&#8217;s visit that was all Archie had asked.</p>
+<p>There are mothers and mothers in this world,&mdash;some who are
+capable of sacrificing their children to Moloch, who will barter
+their own flesh and blood in return for some barren heritage or
+other. There are those who will exact from those dependent on
+them heavy tithes of daily patience and uncomplaining drudgery;
+while others, who are &#8220;mothers indeed&#8221; give all, asking for
+nothing in return.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Drummond was a good woman. She had many virtues
+and few faults. She was lady-like, industrious and self-denying
+in her own personal comforts, an exemplary wife, and a
+tolerant mistress; but she was better understood by her sons
+than by her daughters.</p>
+<p>Her maternal instincts were very strong, and no mother had
+more delighted in her nursery than she had in hers. As long as
+there was a baby in the house the tenderness of her love was
+apparent enough. She wore herself out tending her infants, and
+no one ever heard her say a harsh word in her nursery.</p>
+<p>But as her children grew up, there was much clashing of wills
+in the household. Her sons did not fear her in the least; but
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span>
+with her daughters it was otherwise. They felt the mother&#8217;s
+strong will repressive; it threatened to dwarf their individuality
+and cramp that free growth that is so necessary to young
+things.</p>
+<p>Dottie, who by virtue of being the last baby had had more than
+her fair amount of petting, was only just beginning to learn her
+lesson of unquestioning obedience; and, as she was somewhat
+spoiled, her lesson was hard one. But Laura and Susie and Clara
+had not yet found out that their mother loved them and wished
+to be their friend; they were timid and reserved with her, and
+took all their troubles to Grace. Even Mattie, who was her
+first-born, and who was old enough to be her mother&#8217;s companion,
+quailed and blushed like a child under the dry caustic
+speeches at which Clyde and Fred only laughed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You don&#8217;t understand the mother. Her bark is worse than
+her bite,&#8221; Clyde would say to his sister sometimes. &#8220;She is an
+awfully clever woman, and it riles her to see herself surrounded
+by such a set of ninnies. Now, don&#8217;t sulk, Belle. You know
+Mattie&#8217;s a duffer compared to Grace; aren&#8217;t you, Matt?&#8221;</p>
+<p>At which truism poor Mattie would hang her head.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Clyde; I know I am dreadfully stupid sometimes, and
+that makes mother angry.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Drummond often complained bitterly of her daughters&#8217;
+want of confidence in her, but she never blamed herself for the
+barrier that seemed between them. She was forever asserting
+maternal authority, when such questions might have been
+safely laid to rest between her and her grown-up daughters.
+Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s oneness of sympathy with her girls, her lax
+discipline, her perfect equality, would have shocked a woman
+of Mrs. Drummond&#8217;s calibre. She would not have tolerated or
+understood it for a moment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My girls must do as I wish,&#8221; was a very ordinary speech in
+her mouth. &#8220;I always do as my girls wish,&#8221; Mrs. Challoner
+would have said. And, indeed, the two mothers were utterly
+dissimilar; but it may be doubted whether the Challoner household
+were not far happier than the family in Lowder Street.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XIV_YOU_CAN_DARE_TO_TELL_ME_THESE_THINGS' id='CHAPTER_XIV_YOU_CAN_DARE_TO_TELL_ME_THESE_THINGS'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;YOU CAN DARE TO TELL ME THESE THINGS.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Archibald Drummond had left his mother&#8217;s presence with a
+cloud on his brow. He had plenty of filial affection for her, but
+it was not the first time that he had found her too much for
+him. She had often angered him before by her treatment of
+Grace, but he had told himself that she was his mother, that a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span>
+man could have but one, and so he had brought himself to forgive
+her. But this time she had set herself against the cherished
+plan of years. He had always looked forward to the
+time when he could have Grace to live with him; they had
+made all sorts of schemes together, and all their talk had concentrated
+itself towards this point; the disappointment would
+place a sort of blankness before them; they would be working
+separately, far away from each other, and the distance would
+not be bridged for years.</p>
+<p>He stood for a moment in the dark, narrow hall, thinking intently
+over all this, and then he went slowly upstairs. He knew
+where he should find Grace. His mother had paid an unwonted
+visit to the school-room during their walk, and on their return
+had expressed herself with some degree of sharpness on the disorder
+she had found there. Grace would be busily engaged in
+putting everything to rights. It was Clara&#8217;s business, but she
+had gone out, and had, as usual, forgotten all about it. Grace
+had taken the blame upon herself, of course: she was always
+shielding her younger sisters.</p>
+<p>Everything was done when he entered the room, and Grace
+was sitting by the window, with her hands folded in her lap,
+indulging in a few minutes&#8217; rare idleness. She looked up eagerly
+as her brother made his appearance.</p>
+<p>The school-room was a large, bare-looking room at the top of
+the house, with two narrow windows looking out over a lively
+prospect of roofs and chimney-pots. Mrs. Drummond had done
+her utmost to give it an air of comfort, but it was, on the whole,
+a dull, uncomfortable apartment, in spite of the faded Turkey
+carpet, and the curtains that had once been so handsome, but
+had now merged into unwholesome neutral tints.</p>
+<p>Laura, who was the wit of the family, had nicknamed it the
+Hospital, for it seemed to be a receptacle for all the maimed and
+rickety chairs of the household, footstools in a dilapidated condition,
+and odd pieces of lumber that had no other place. Archibald
+regarded it with a troubled gaze; somehow, its dinginess
+had never before so impressed him; and then as he looked at
+his sister the frown deepened on his face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, Archie?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Grace, it is no use! I have talked myself hoarse, but
+the mother is dead against it: one might as well try to move a
+rock. We shall have to make up our minds to bear our disappointment
+as well as we can.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I knew it was hopeless from the first,&#8221; returned Grace,
+slowly; but, as she spoke, a sort of dimness and paleness crept
+over her face, belying her words.</p>
+<p>She was young, and in youth hope never dies. Beyond the
+gray daily horizon there is always a possible gleam, a new to-morrow;
+youth abounds in infinite surprises, in probabilities
+which are as large as they are vague. Grace told herself that
+she never hoped much from Archie&#8217;s mission; yet when he came
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span>
+to her with his ill success plainly stamped upon his countenance,
+the dying out of her dream was bitter to her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I knew it was hopeless from the first,&#8221; had been her answer,
+and then breath for further words failed her, and she sat motionless,
+with her hands clasped tightly together, while Archie
+placed himself on the window-seat beside her and looked out
+ruefully at the opposite chimneys.</p>
+<p>Well, it was all over, this dearly-cherished scheme of theirs;
+she must go on now with the dull routine of daily duties, she
+must stoop her neck afresh to the yoke she had long found so
+galling; this school-room must be her world, she must not hope
+any longer for wider vistas, for more expansive horizons, for
+tasks that should be more congenial to her, for all that was now
+made impossible.</p>
+<p>Mattie, not she, must go and keep Archie&#8217;s house, and here
+for a moment she closed her eyes, the pain was so bitter; she
+thought of the old vicarage, of the garden where she and Archie
+were to have worked, of the shabby old study where he meant
+to write his sermons, while she was to sit beside him with her
+book or needlework, of the evenings when he had promised to
+read to her, of the walks they were to have taken together, of
+all the dear delightful plans they had made.</p>
+<p>And now her mother had said them nay; it was Mattie who
+was to be his housekeeper, who would sit opposite to him and
+pour out his coffee, who would mend his socks and do all the
+thousand-and-one things that a woman delights in doing for the
+mankind dependent on her for comfort.</p>
+<p>Mattie would visit his poor people, and teach in the schools,
+entertain his friends, and listen to his voice every Sunday; here
+tears slowly gathered under the closed eyelids. Yes, Mattie
+would do all that, but she would not be his chosen friend and
+companion; there would be no long charming talks for her in
+the study or the sunny garden; he would be as lonely, poor
+fellow, in his way as she would be in hers, and for this her
+mother was to blame.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, Gracie, haven&#8217;t you a word to say?&#8221; asked her brother,
+at last, surprised at her long silence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, Archie; it does not bear talking about,&#8221; she returned,
+so passionately that he turned round to look at her. &#8220;I must
+not even think of it. I must try and shut it all out of my mind,
+or I shall be no good to any one. But it is hard&mdash;hard!&#8221; with
+a quiver of her lip.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I call it a shame for my father and mother to sacrifice you
+in this way!&#8221; he burst out, moved to bitter indignation at the
+sight of her trouble. &#8220;I shall tell my father what I think about
+it pretty plainly!&#8221;</p>
+<p>But this speech recalled Grace to her senses.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, dear! you must do no such thing: promise me you
+will not. It would be no good at all; and it would only make
+mother so angry. You know he always thinks as she does about
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span>
+things, so it would be no use. I suppose&#8221;&mdash;with an impatient
+sigh&mdash;&#8220;that I ought to feel myself complimented at knowing I
+cannot be spared. Some girls would be proud to feel themselves
+their mother&#8217;s right hand; but to me it does not seem
+much of a privilege.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t talk in that way, Grace: it makes me miserable to
+hear you. I am more sorry for you than I am for myself, and
+yet I am sorry for myself too. If it were not that my mother
+would be too deeply offended, I would refuse to have Mattie at
+all. We never have got on well together. She is a good little
+thing in her way, but her awkwardness and left-handed ways
+will worry me incessantly. And then we have not an idea in
+common&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; but here Grace generously interposed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor old fellow! as though I did not know all that; but you
+must not vent it on poor Mattie. She is not to blame for our
+disappointment. She would gladly give it up to me if she
+could. I know she will do her utmost to please you, Archie,
+and she is so good and amiable that you must overlook her little
+failings and make the best of her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It will be rather difficult work, I am afraid,&#8221; returned her
+brother, grimly. &#8220;I shall always be drawing invidious comparisons
+between you both, and thinking what you would do in
+her place.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;All the same you must try and be good to her for my sake,
+for I am very fond of Mattie,&#8221; she returned, gently; but he
+could not help feeling gratified at the assurance that he would
+miss her. And then she put her hand on his coat-sleeve, and
+stroked it, a favorite caress with her. &#8220;It does not bear talking
+about: does it, Archie? It only makes it feel worse. I
+think it must be meant as a discipline for me, because I am so
+wicked, and that it would not do at all for me to be too happy.&#8221;
+And here she pressed his arm, and looked up in his face, with
+an attempt at a smile.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, you are right: talking only makes it worse,&#8221; he returned,
+hurriedly; and then he stooped&mdash;for he was a tall man&mdash;and
+kissed her on the forehead just between her eyes, and
+then walked to the door, whistling a light air.</p>
+<p>Grace did not think him at all abrupt in thus breaking off the
+conversation. She had caught his meaning in a moment, and
+knew the whole business was so painful to him that he did not
+care to dwell on it. When the tea-bell rang, she prepared herself
+at once to accompany him downstairs.</p>
+<p>It was Archibald&#8217;s last evening at home, and all the family
+were gathered round the long tea-table. Since Mr. Drummond&#8217;s
+misfortunes, late dinners had been relinquished, and more
+homely habits prevailed in the household. Mrs. Drummond
+had, indeed, apologized to her son more than once for the simplicity
+of their mode of life.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are accustomed to a late dinner, Archie. I wish I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span>
+could have managed it for you; but your father objects to any
+alteration being made in our usual habits.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is quite right; and I should have been much distressed
+if you had thought such alteration necessary,&#8221; returned her son,
+very much surprised at this reference to his father. For Mrs.
+Drummond rarely consulted her husband on such matters. In
+this case, however, she had done so, and Mr. Drummond had
+been unusually testy&mdash;indeed, affronted&mdash;at such a question
+being put to him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know what you mean, Isabella,&#8221; he had replied; &#8220;but
+I suppose what is good enough for me is good enough for Archie.&#8221;
+And then Mrs. Drummond knew she had made a mistake, for
+her husband had felt bitterly the loss of his late dinner. So
+Archie tried to fall in with the habits of his family, and to
+enjoy the large plum or seed-cake that invariably garnished the
+tea-table; and, though he ate but sparingly of the supper, which
+always gave him indigestion, Grace was his only confidante in
+the matter. Mr. Drummond, indeed, looked at his son rather
+sharply once or twice, as though he suspected him of fastidiousness.
+&#8220;I cannot compliment you on your appetite,&#8221; he would
+say, as he helped himself to cold meat; &#8220;but perhaps our home
+fare is not so tempting as Oxford living?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I always say your meat is unusually good,&#8221; returned Archibald,
+amicably. &#8220;If there be any fault, it is in my appetite;
+but that Hadleigh air will soon set right.&#8221; But, though he answered
+his father after this tolerant fashion, he always added,
+in a mental aside, that nine-o&#8217;clock suppers were certainly barbarous
+institutions, and peculiarly deleterious to the constitution
+of an Oxford fellow.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Drummond looked at them both somewhat keenly as
+they entered. In spite of her resolution, she was secretly uncomfortable
+at the thought that Archie was displeased with
+her: her daughter&#8217;s vexation was a burden that could be more
+easily borne; but her maternal heart yearned for some token
+that her boy was not estranged from her. But no such consolation
+was to be vouchsafed to her. She had kept his usual
+place vacant beside her; Archie showed no intention of taking
+it. He placed himself by his father, and began talking to him
+of a change of ministry that was impending, and which would
+overthrow the Conservative party. Mrs. Drummond, who was
+one of those women who can never be made to take any interest
+in politics, was reduced to the necessity of talking to Mattie in
+an undertone, for the other boys never put in an appearance at
+this meal; but as she talked she took stock of Grace&#8217;s pale, abstracted
+looks as she sat with her plate before her, not pretending
+to eat, and taking no notice of Susie and Laura, who chatted
+busily across her.</p>
+<p>It was not a festive meal; on the contrary, there was an unusual
+air of restraint over the whole party. The younger
+members felt instinctively that there was something amiss.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span>
+Archie looked decidedly glum; and there was an expression on
+the mother&#8217;s face that they were not slow to interpret. No one
+could hear what it was she was saying to Mattie that made her
+look so red and nervous all at once; but presently she addressed
+herself abruptly to her husband:</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is all settled, father. I have arranged with Archie that
+Matilda should go down to Hadleigh next month.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Archie stroked his beard, but did not look up or make any
+remark, though poor Mattie looked at him beseechingly across
+the table, as though imploring a word. His mother would
+carry her point; but he would not pretend for a moment that
+he was otherwise than displeased, or that Mattie would be welcome.</p>
+<p>His silence attracted Mr. Drummond&#8217;s attention.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, what, you have settled it, you say? I hope you are
+satisfied, Archie, and properly grateful to your mother for sparing
+Mattie. She is to go for a year. Well, it will be a grand
+change for her. I should not be surprised if you were to pick
+up a husband, Miss Mattie;&#8221; for Mr. Drummond was a man who,
+in spite of his cares, was not without his joke; but, as usual, it
+was instantly frowned down by his wife:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wonder at you, father, talking such nonsense before the
+children. Why are you giggling, Laura? It is very unseemly
+and ill-behaved. I hope no daughter of mine has such unmaidenly
+notions. Mattie is going to Hadleigh to be a comfort
+to her brother, and to keep his house as a clergyman&#8217;s house
+ought to be kept.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you are satisfied, Archie?&#8221; asked Mr. Drummond,
+not quite pleased at his wife&#8217;s reprimand, and struck anew by
+his son&#8217;s silence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I consider these questions somewhat unnecessary. You
+know my wishes, sir, on the subject, and my mother also,&#8221; was
+the somewhat uncompromising remark; &#8220;but it appears that
+they are not to be met in this instance. I hope Mattie will be
+comfortable and not miss her sisters;&#8221; but he did not look at
+the poor girl, and the tears came into her eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Archie, I am so sorry! I never meant&#8211;&#8211;-&#8221; she stammered;
+but her mother interrupted her:</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is no occasion for you to be sorry about anything;
+you had far better be silent, Mattie. But you have no tact.
+Father, if you have finished your tea, I suppose you and Archie
+are going out.&#8221; And then Archie rose from the table, and followed
+his father out of the room.</p>
+<p>It was Isabel&#8217;s business to put Dottie to bed. The other
+girls had to prepare their lessons for the next day, and went
+up to the school-room. Mattie made some excuse, and
+went with them, and Mrs. Drummond and Grace were left
+alone.</p>
+<p>Grace had some delicate work to finish, and she placed herself
+by the lamp. Her mother had returned to her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span>
+mending-basket; but as the door closed upon Mattie, she cleared her
+throat, and looked at her daughter.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Grace, I must say I am surprised at you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, mother?&#8221; But Grace did not look up from the task
+she was running with such fine even stitches.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am more than surprised!&#8221; continued Mrs. Drummond,
+severely. &#8220;I am disappointed to see in what a bad spirit you
+have received my decision. I did not think a daughter of mine
+would have been so blind to her sense of duty!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have said nothing to make you think that.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, you have said nothing, but looks can be eloquent sometimes.
+I am not speaking of Archie, though I can see he is put
+out too, for he is a man, and men are not always reasonable;
+but that you should place yourself in such silent opposition to
+my wishes, it is that that shocks me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>There was an ominous sparkle in Grace&#8217;s gray eyes, and then
+she deliberately put down her work on the table. She had
+hoped that her mother would have been contented with her
+victory, and not have spoken to her on the subject. But if she
+were so attacked, she would at least defend herself.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have no right to speak to me in this way, mother!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No right, Grace?&#8221; Mrs. Drummond could hardly believe
+her ears. Never once had a daughter of hers questioned her
+right in anything.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; for I have said nothing to bring all this upon me! I
+have been perfectly quiet, and have tried to bear the bitterness
+of my disappointment as well as I could. No one is answerable
+for their looks, and I, at least, will not plead guilty on that
+score.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Grace, you are answering me very improperly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I cannot say that I think so, mother. I would have been
+silent, if you had permitted such silence; but when you drive
+me to speech, I must say what I feel to be the truth,&mdash;that I
+have not been well treated in this matter.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Grace!&#8221; And Mrs. Drummond paused in awful silence.
+Never before had a recusant daughter braved her to her
+face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have not been well treated,&#8221; continued Grace, firmly,
+&#8220;in a thing that concerns me more than any one else. I have
+not even been consulted. You have arranged it all, mother,
+without reference to me or my feelings. Perhaps I ought to be
+grateful for being spared so painful a decision; but I think
+such a decision should have been permitted to me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You can dare to tell me such things to my very face!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why should I not tell them?&#8221; returned Grace, meeting her
+mother&#8217;s angry glance unflinchingly. &#8220;It seems to me that
+one should speak the truth to one&#8217;s mother. You have treated
+me like a child; and I have a right to feel sore and indignant.
+Why did you not put the whole thing before me, and tell me
+that you and my father did not see how you could spare me?
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span>
+Do you really believe that I should have been so wanting to my
+sense of duty as to follow my own pleasure?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Grace, I insist upon your silence! I will not discuss the
+matter with you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you insist upon silence, you must be obeyed, mother:
+but it is you who have raised the question between us. But
+when you attack me unjustly, I must defend myself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are forgetting yourself strangely. Your words are
+most disrespectful and unbecoming in a daughter. You tell me
+to my face that I am unjust&mdash;I, your mother&mdash;because I have
+been compelled to thwart your wishes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, no&mdash;not because of that!&#8221; returned Grace, in a voice
+of passionate pain; &#8220;why will you misunderstand me so?&mdash;but
+because you have no faith in me. You treat me like a child.
+You dispute my privilege to decide in a matter that concerns my
+own happiness. You bid me work for you, and you give me no
+wage&mdash;not a word of praise; and because I remonstrate for
+once in my life, you insist on my silence.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It seems that I am not to be obeyed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; you will be obeyed, mother. After to-night I will
+not open my lips to offend you again. If I have said more than
+I ought to have said as a daughter, I will ask your pardon now;
+but I cannot take back one of my words. They are true,&mdash;true!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I must say your apology is tardy, Grace.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nevertheless, it is an apology; for, though you have hurt
+me, I must not forget you are my mother. I know my life will
+be harder after this, because of what I have said; and yet I
+would not take back one of my words!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am more displeased with you than I can say,&#8221; returned
+her mother, taking up her neglected work; and her mouth
+looked stern and hard.</p>
+<p>Never had her aspect been so forbidding, and yet never had
+her daughter feared her less.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then, if you are displeased with me, I will go away,&#8221; replied
+Grace, moving from her seat with gentle dignity. &#8220;I
+wish you had not compelled me to speak, mother, and then I
+should not have offended you: but as it is there is no help for
+it.&#8221; And then she gathered up her work and walked slowly
+out of the room.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Drummond sat moodily in the empty room that had
+somehow never seemed so empty before. Her attitude was as
+rigid and uncompromising as usual; but there was a perplexed
+frown on her brow. For the first time in her life one of her
+girls had dared to assert her own will and to speak the truth to
+her; and she was utterly nonplussed. It was not too much to
+say that she had received a blow. Her justice and sense of
+fairness had been questioned,&mdash;her very maternal authority
+impugned,&mdash;and that by one of her own children! Mattie, who
+was eight years older, would not have ventured to cross her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span>
+mother&#8217;s will. Grace had so dared; and she was bitterly angry
+with her. And yet she had never so admired her before.</p>
+<p>How honestly and bravely she had battled for her rights! her
+gray eyes had shone with fire, her pale cheeks had glowed with
+the passion of her words: for once in her life the girl had looked
+superbly handsome.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have no faith in me; you treat me like a child.&#8221;
+Well, she was right; it was no child, it was a proud woman
+who was flinging those hard words at her. For the first time
+Mrs. Drummond recognized the possibility of a will as strong as
+her own. In spite of all her authority, Grace had been a match
+for her mother: Mrs. Drummond knew this, and it added fuel to
+her bitterness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know my life will be harder for what I have said.&#8221; Ah,
+Grace was right there; it would be long before her mother
+would forgive her for all those words, true as they were; and
+yet in her heart she had never so feared and admired her
+daughter. Grace went up to her own room, where Dottie was
+asleep in a little bed very near her sister&#8217;s: it was dark and
+somewhat cold, but the atmosphere was less frigid than the parlor
+downstairs. Grace&#8217;s frame was trembling with the force of
+her emotion; her face was burning, and her hands cold. It was
+restful and soothing to put down her aching head on the hard
+window-ledge and close her eyes and think out the pain! It
+seemed hours before Isabel came to summon her to supper,
+but she made an excuse that she was not hungry, and refused
+to go downstairs.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But you ate nothing at tea, and your head is aching!&#8221; persisted
+Isabel, who was a bright, good-natured girl, and, in spite
+of Archie&#8217;s strictures, decidedly pretty. &#8220;Do let me bring you
+something. Mother will not know.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But Grace refused: she could not eat, and the sight of food
+would distress her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why not go to bed at once, then?&#8221; suggested Isabel,&mdash;which
+was certainly sensible counsel. But Grace demurred to
+this; she knew Archie would be up presently to say good-night
+to her: so, when Isabel had gone, she lighted the candle, shading
+it carefully from Dottie&#8217;s eyes, and then she bathed her hot
+face, and smoothed her hair, and took up her work again.</p>
+<p>Archie found her quite calm and busy, but he was not so easily
+deceived.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, Gracie, you have got one of your headaches: it is the
+disappointment and the bother, and my going away to-morrow.
+Poor little Gracie!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Archie, I feel as though I shall never miss you so much!&#8221;
+exclaimed the poor girl, throwing down her work and clinging
+to him. &#8220;When shall I see your dear face again?&mdash;not until
+Christmas?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And not then, I expect. I shall most likely run down some
+time in January, and then I shall try hard to take you back
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span>
+with me, just for a visit. Mattie will be dull, and wanting to
+see some of you, and I will not have one of the others until you
+have been.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t believe mother will spare me even for that,&#8221; returned
+Grace, with a sudden conviction that her mother&#8217;s memory was
+retentive, and that she would be punished in that way for her
+sins of this evening; &#8220;but promise me, Archie, that you will
+come, if it be only for a few days.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I will promise you that. I cannot last longer without
+seeing you, Grace!&#8221; And he stroked her soft hair as she still
+clung to him.</p>
+<p>The next day Archibald bade his family good-bye: his manner
+had not changed toward his mother, and Mrs. Drummond
+thought his kiss decidedly cold.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You will be good to Mattie, and try to make the poor girl
+happy; you will do at least as much as this,&#8221; she said, detaining
+him as he was turning from her to see Grace.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, I will be good to her,&#8221; he returned, indifferently,
+&#8220;but I cannot promise that she will not find her life dull.&#8221;
+And then he took Grace in his arms, and whispered to her to be
+patient, and that all would be well one day; and Mrs. Drummond,
+though she did not hear the whisper, saw the embrace
+and the long lingering look between the brother and sister, and
+pressed her thin lips together and went back to her parlor and
+mending-basket, feeling herself an unhappy mother, whose love
+was not requited by her children, and disposed to be harder
+than ever towards Grace, who had inflicted this pain on her.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XV_A_VAN_IN_THE_BRAIDWOOD_ROAD' id='CHAPTER_XV_A_VAN_IN_THE_BRAIDWOOD_ROAD'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+<h3>A VAN IN THE BRAIDWOOD ROAD.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>One bright July morning, Mattie Drummond walked rapidly
+up the Braidwood Road, and, unlatching the green door in the
+wall, let herself into the large square hall of the vicarage. This
+morning it looked invitingly cool, with its summer matting and
+big wicker-work chairs; but Mattie was in too great haste to
+linger; she only stopped to disencumber herself of the various
+parcels with which she was ladened, and then she knocked at
+the door of her brother&#8217;s study, and, without waiting for the
+reluctant &#8220;Come in&#8221; that always answered her hasty rap,
+burst in upon him.</p>
+<p>It was now three months since Mattie had entered upon her
+new duties, and it must be confessed that Archie&#8217;s housekeeper
+had rather a hard time of it. As far as actual management
+went, Mattie fully justified her mother&#8217;s eulogiums in her household
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span>
+arrangements: she was orderly and methodical,&mdash;far more
+so than Grace would have been in her place; the meals were
+always punctual and well served, the domestic machinery
+worked well and smoothly. Archie never had to complain of a
+missing button or a frayed wrist-band. Nevertheless, Mattie&#8217;s
+presence at the vicarage was felt by her brother as a sore
+burden. There was nothing in common between them, nothing
+that he cared to discuss with her, or on which he wished to know
+her opinion; he was naturally a frank, outspoken man, one
+that demanded sympathy from those belonging to him; but with
+Mattie he was reticent, and as far as possible restrained in
+speech.</p>
+<p>One reason for this might be that Mattie, with all her virtues,&mdash;and
+she was really a most estimable little person,&mdash;was sadly
+deficient in tact. She never knew when she was treading on
+other people&#8217;s pet prejudices. She could not be made to understand
+that her presence was not always wanted, and that it was
+as well to keep silence sometimes.</p>
+<p>She would intrude her advice when it was not needed, in her
+good-natured way; she had always interfered with everything
+and everybody. &#8220;Meddlesome Mattie&#8221; they had called her
+at home.</p>
+<p>She was so wonderfully elastic, too, in her temperament, that
+nothing long depressed her. She took all her brother&#8217;s
+snubbings in excellent part: if he scolded her at dinner-time,
+and made the ready tears come to her eyes,&mdash;for it was not the
+least of Mattie&#8217;s sins that she cried easily and on every possible
+occasion,&mdash;she had forgotten it by tea-time, and would chatter
+to him as happily as ever.</p>
+<p>She was just one of those persevering people who seem bound
+to be snubbed; one cannot help it. It was as natural to scold
+Mattie as it was to praise other people; and yet it was impossible
+not to like the little woman, though she had no fine feelings,
+as Archie said, and was not thin-skinned. Grace always spoke
+a good word for her; she was very kind to Mattie in her way,&mdash;though
+it must be owned that she showed her small respect
+as an elder sister. None of her brothers and sisters respected
+Mattie in the least; they laughed at her, and took liberties with
+her, presuming largely on her good nature. &#8220;It is only Mattie;
+nobody cares what she thinks,&#8221; as Clyde would often say.
+&#8220;Matt the Muddler,&#8221; as Frederick named her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wonder what Mattie would say if any one ever fell in love
+with her?&#8221; Grace once observed in fun to Archie. &#8220;Do you
+know, I think she would be all her life, thanking her husband
+for the unexpected honor he had done her, and trying to prove
+to him that he had not made such a great mistake, after all.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mattie&#8217;s husband! He must be an odd sort of person, I
+should think.&#8221; And then Archie laughed, in not the politest
+manner. Certainly Mattie was not appreciated by her family.
+She was not looking her best this morning when she went into
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span>
+her brother&#8217;s study. She wore the offending plaid dress,&mdash;a
+particular large black-and-white check that he thought especially
+ugly. Her hat-trimmings were frayed, and the straw
+itself was burnt brown by the sun, and her hair was ill arranged
+and rough, for she never wasted much time on her own person,
+and, to crown the whole, she looked flushed and heated.</p>
+<p>Archie, who was sitting at his writing-table in severely-cut
+ecclesiastical garments, looking as trim and well-appointed a
+young clergyman as one might wish to see, might be forgiven
+for the tone of ill-suppressed irritation with which he said,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Mattie! what a figure you look! I am positively
+ashamed that any one should see you. That hat is only fit to
+frighten the birds.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, it will do very well for the mornings,&#8221; returned Mattie,
+perfectly undisturbed at these compliments. &#8220;Nobody looks
+at me: so what does it matter?&#8221; But this remark, which she
+made in all simplicity, only irritated him more.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you have no proper pride, you might at least consider
+my feelings. Do you think a man in my position likes his
+sister to go about like an old beggar-woman? You are enough
+to try any one&#8217;s patience, Mattie; you are, indeed!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, never mind me and my things,&#8221; returned Mattie
+coaxingly; &#8220;and don&#8217;t go on writing just yet,&#8221; for Archie
+had taken up his pen again with a great show of being busy.
+&#8220;I want to tell you something that I know will interest you.
+There are some new people come to the Friary.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What on earth do you mean?&mdash;what Friary? I am sure I
+never heard of such a place.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear me, Archie, how cross you are this morning!&#8221; observed
+Mattie, in a cheerful voice, as she fidgeted the papers on the table.
+&#8220;Why, the Friary is that shabby little cottage just above us,&mdash;not
+a stone&#8217;s throw from this house.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Indeed? Well, I cannot say I am much interested in the
+movements of my neighbors. I am not a gossip like you,
+Mattie!&#8221;&mdash;another fling at poor Mattie. &#8220;I wish you would
+leave those papers alone. You know I never allow my things
+to be tidied, as you call it, and I am really very busy just now.
+I am in the middle of accounts, and I have to write to Grace
+and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I thought you would like to know.&#8221; And Mattie
+looked rather crestfallen and disappointed. &#8220;You talked so
+much about those young ladies some weeks ago, and seemed
+quite sorry not to see them again; and now&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; but here
+Archie&#8217;s indifference vanished, and he looked up eagerly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What young ladies? Not those in Milner&#8217;s Library, who
+asked about the dressmaker?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The very same,&#8221; returned his sister, delighted at this change
+of manner. &#8220;Oh, I have so much to tell you that I must sit
+down,&#8221; planting herself comfortably on the arm of an easy-chair
+near him. Another time Archie would have rebuked her for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span>
+her unlady-like attitude, and told her, probably, that Grace
+never did such things; but now his interest was so excited that
+he let it pass for once. He even suffered her to take off her old
+hat and deposit it unreproved on the top of his cherished papers.
+&#8220;I was over at Crump&#8217;s this morning, to speak to Bobbie about
+weeding the garden, when I was surprised to see a railway-van
+unloading furniture at the Friary.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What an absurd name!&#8221; <i>sotto voce</i> from Archie: but he
+offered no further check to Mattie&#8217;s gossip.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I asked Mrs. Crump, as a matter of course, the name of the
+new people; and she said it was Challoner. There was a
+mother and three daughters, she believed. She had seen two of
+them,&mdash;pretty, nice-spoken young creatures, and quite ladies.
+They had been down before to see the cottage and to have it
+done up. It looks quite a different place already,&mdash;nicely
+painted, and the shrubs trimmed. The door was open, and as I
+stood at Mrs. Crump&#8217;s window, peeping between her geraniums,
+I saw such a respectable gray-haired woman, like an upper
+servant, carrying something into the house; and a moment
+after one of those young ladies we saw in the Library&mdash;not the
+pretty one, but the other&mdash;came to the door and spoke to the
+men.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you sure you did not make a mistake, Mattie?&#8221; asked
+her brother, incredulously. &#8220;You are very short-sighted: perhaps
+you did not see correctly. How can those stylish-looking
+girls live in such a shabby place? I can hardly believe it possible.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, it was the same, I am positive about that. She was in
+the same cambric dress you admired. I could see distinctly.
+I watched her for a long time; and then the pretty one came
+out and joined her. She is pretty, Archie, she has such a
+lovely complexion.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But are they poor?&mdash;they don&#8217;t look so. What on earth
+can it mean?&#8221; he asked, in a perplexed voice; but Mattie only
+shook her head, and went on:</p>
+<p>&#8220;We must find out all about them by and by. They are
+worth knowing, I am sure of that. Poor?&mdash;well, they cannot
+be rich, certainly, to live in the Friary; but they are gentle-people,
+one can see that in a moment.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course! who doubted it?&#8221; was the somewhat impatient
+answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, but that is not all,&#8221; went on Mattie, too delighted
+with her brother&#8217;s interest to try to curtail her story. &#8220;Of
+course I could not stand long watching them, so I did my errand
+and came away; and then I met Miss Middleton, and we walked
+down to the Library together to change those books. Miss Milner
+was talking to some ladies when we first went in and, as
+Miss Masham was not in the shop, we had to wait our turn, so I
+had a good look at them. The elder one was such a pretty,
+aristocratic-looking woman,&mdash;a little too languid, perhaps for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span>
+my taste; and the younger one was a little like Isabel, only
+nicer-looking. I shouldn&#8217;t have stared at them so much,&mdash;at
+least, I am afraid I stared,&#8221; went on Mattie, forgetting for the
+moment how often she had been taken to task for this very
+thing,&mdash;&#8220;but something Miss Milner said attracted my attention,
+&#8216;I am not to send it to the Friary, then, ma&#8217;am?&#8217; &#8216;Well, no,&#8217;
+the lady returned, rather hesitatingly. She had such a nice
+voice and manner, Archie. &#8216;My youngest daughter and I are
+at Beach House at present; I am rather an invalid, and the
+bustle would be too much for me. Dulce, we had better have
+these things sent to Beach House.&#8217; And then the young lady
+standing by her said, &#8216;Oh, yes, mother; we shall want them
+this evening.&#8217; And then they went out.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is a third sister, then?&#8221; observed Archie, not pretending
+to disguise his interest in Mattie&#8217;s recital.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, there is a third one: she is certainly a little like Isabel;
+she has a dimple like hers, and is of the same height. I asked
+Miss Milner, when they were out of hearing, if their name were
+Challoner, and if they were the new people who were coming
+to live at the empty cottage on the Braidwood Road. I thought
+she did not seem much disposed to give me information. Yes,
+their name was Challoner, and they had taken the Friary; but
+they were quite strangers in the town, and no one knew anything
+about them. And then Miss Middleton chimed in; she
+said her father had noticed the young ladies some weeks ago,
+and had called her attention to them. They were very pretty
+girls, and had quite taken his fancy; he had not forgotten them,
+and had spoken of them that very morning. She supposed Mrs.
+Challoner must be a widow, and not very well off: did Miss
+Milner know. Would you believe it, Archie? Miss Milner got
+quite red, and looked confused. You know how she enjoys a
+bit of gossip generally; but the questions seemed to trouble her.
+&#8216;They were not at all well off, she knew that, but nicer young
+ladies she had never seen, or wished to see; and she hoped every
+one would be kind to them, and not forget they were real born
+ladies, in spite of&#8211;&#8211;&#8217; And here the old thing got more confused
+than ever, and came to a full stop, and begged to know how she
+could serve us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is very strange,&mdash;very strange indeed,&#8221; returned her
+brother, in a meditative voice; but, as Mattie had nothing more
+to tell him, he did not discuss the matter any further, only
+thanked her for her news, and civilly dismissed her on the plea
+that his business was at a stand-still.</p>
+<p>But he did not resume his accounts for sometime after he was
+left alone. Instead of doing so, he walked to the window and
+looked out in a singularly absent manner. Mattie&#8217;s news was
+somewhat exciting. The idea of having such pleasant neighbors
+located within a stone&#8217;s throw of the vicarage was in itself disturbing
+to the imagination of a young man of eight-and-twenty,
+even though a clergyman. And then, it must be confessed,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span>
+Nan&#8217;s charming face and figure had never been forgotten: he
+had looked out for the sisters many times since his chance
+encounter with Phillis, and had been secretly disappointed at
+their total disappearance. And now they proved not mere visitors,
+but positively inhabitants of Hadleigh. He would meet
+them every day; and, as there was but one church in the place,
+they would of course be numbered among his flock. As their
+future clergyman he would have a right of entrance to the cottage.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How soon do you think we ought to call upon them, Mattie?&#8221;
+he asked, when he was seated opposite to his sister at the luncheon-table.
+The accounts had not progressed very favorably,
+and the letter to Grace was not yet commenced. Mattie&#8217;s news
+had been a sad interruption to his morning&#8217;s work.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Whom do you mean, Archie,&#8221; she returned, a little bewildered
+at this abrupt remark; and then, as he frowned at
+her denseness, she bethought herself of the new people. It was
+not often Archie asked her advice about anything, but on this
+occasion the young vicar felt himself incompetent to decide.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose you mean the new folk at the Friary,&#8221; she continued,
+carelessly. &#8220;Oh, they are only moving in to-day, and
+they will be in a muddle for a week, I should think. I don&#8217;t
+think we can intrude for ten days or so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not if you think it will be intrusive,&#8221; he returned, rather
+anxiously; &#8220;but they are strangers in the place, and all ladies&mdash;there
+does not seem to be a man belonging to them&mdash;would it
+not be neighborly, as we live so close, just to call, not in a formal
+way, you know, but just to volunteer help? There are little
+things you could do for them, Mattie; and, as a clergyman, they
+could not regard my visit as an intrusion, I should think. Do
+you not agree with me?&#8221; looking at his sister rather gravely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I don&#8217;t know,&#8221; replied Mattie, bluntly: &#8220;I should not
+care for strangers prying into my concerns, if I were in their
+place. And yet, as you say, we are such close neighbors, and
+one would like to be kind to the poor things, for they must be
+lonely, settling in a strange new place. I&#8217;ll tell you what,
+Archie,&#8221; as his face fell at this matter-of-fact speech: &#8220;it is
+Thursday, and they will be sure to be at church on Sunday;
+we shall see them there, and that will be an excuse for us to
+call on Monday. We can say then that we are neighbors, and
+that we would not wait until they were all in order. We can
+offer to send them things from the vicarage, or volunteer help
+in many little ways. I think that would be best.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, perhaps you are right, and we will wait until Monday,&#8221;
+returned Archie, taking off his soft felt hat. &#8220;Now I must go
+on my rounds, and not waste any more time chattering.&#8221; But,
+though he spoke with unusual good nature, he did not invite
+Mattie to be his companion, and the poor little woman betook
+herself to the solitary drawing-room and some plain sewing for
+the rest of the afternoon.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span></p>
+<p>The young clergyman stood for a moment irresolutely at the
+green door, and cast a longing glance in the direction of the
+Friary, where the van was still unloading, and then he bethought
+himself that, though Mattie had given orders about the
+weeding of the garden-paths, it would be as well to speak to
+Crump about the wire fence that was wanted for the poultry-yard;
+and as soon as he had made up his mind on this point he
+walked on briskly.</p>
+<p>The last piece of furniture had just been carried in; but, as
+Mr. Drummond was picking his way through the straw and
+debris that littered the side-path, two girlish figures came out
+of the doorway full upon him.</p>
+<p>He raised his hat involuntarily, but they drew back at once,
+and, as he went out, confused at this sudden rencontre, the
+sound of a light laugh greeted his ear.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How annoying that we should always be meeting him!&#8221;
+observed Nan, innocently. &#8220;Don&#8217;t laugh, Phillis: he will hear
+you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear, it must be fate,&#8221; returned Phillis solemnly. &#8220;I
+shall think it my duty to warn Dick if this goes on.&#8221; But, in
+spite of her mischievous speech, she darted a quick, interested
+look after the handsome young clergyman as he walked on.
+Both the girls stood in the porch for some minutes after they
+had made their retreat. They had come out to cool themselves
+and to get a breath of air, until a July sun and Mr. Drummond&#8217;s
+sudden appearance defeated their intention. They had no idea
+that they were watched from behind the screening geraniums in
+Mrs. Crump&#8217;s window. Both of them were enveloped in Dorothy&#8217;s
+bib-aprons, which hid their pretty rounded figures. Phillis&#8217;s
+cheeks were flushed, and her arms were bare to the dimpled
+elbows; and Nan&#8217;s brown hair was slightly dishevelled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We look just like cooks!&#8221; exclaimed Phillis, regarding her
+coarse apron with disfavor; but Nan stretched her arms with a
+little indifference and weariness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What does it matter how we look,&mdash;like cooks or housemaids?
+I am dreadfully tired; but we must go in and work,
+Phil. I wonder what has become of Dulce?&#8221; And then the
+charming vision disappeared from the young clergyman&#8217;s eyes,
+and he was free to fix his mind on the wire fence that was
+required for the poultry-yard.</p>
+<p>As soon as he had accomplished his errand he set his face
+towards the vicarage, for he made up his mind suddenly that
+he would call on the Middletons, and perhaps on Mrs. Cheyne.
+The latter was a duty that he owed to his pastoral conscience;
+but there was no need for him to go to the Middletons&#8217;. Nevertheless,
+the father and daughter were his most intimate friends,
+and on all occasions he was sure of Miss Middleton&#8217;s sympathy.
+They lived at Brooklyn,&mdash;a low white house a little below the
+vicarage. It was a charming house, he always thought, so well
+arranged and well managed; and the garden&mdash;that was the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span>
+colonel&#8217;s special hobby&mdash;was as pretty as a garden could be.
+The drawing-room looked shady and comfortable, for the
+French windows opened into a cool veranda, fitted up with
+flower-baskets and wicker chairs; and beyond lay the trim
+lawn, with beds of blazing verbenas and calceolarias. Miss
+Middleton&#8217;s work-table was just within one of the windows;
+but the colonel, in his gray summer suit, reclined in a lounging-chair
+in the veranda. He was reading the paper to his
+daughter, and was just in the middle of last night&#8217;s debate;
+nevertheless, he threw it aside, well pleased at the interruption.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I knew how I should find you occupied,&#8221; observed Mr.
+Drummond, as he exchanged a smile with Miss Middleton. He
+was fully aware that politics were not to her taste, and yet
+every afternoon she listened to such reading, well content even
+with the sound of her father&#8217;s voice.</p>
+<p>Elizabeth Middleton was certainly a charming person. Phillis
+had called her the &#8220;gray-haired girl,&#8221; and the title suited her.
+She was not a girl by any means, having reached her six-and-thirtieth
+year; but her hair was as silvery as an old woman&#8217;s,
+gray and plentiful, and soft as silk, and contrasted strangely
+with her still youthful face.</p>
+<p>Without being handsome, Elizabeth Middleton was beautiful.
+Her expression was sweet and restful, and attracted all hearts.
+People who were acquainted with her said she was the happiest
+creature they knew,&mdash;that she simply diffused sunshine by her
+mere presence; such a contrast, they would add, to her neighbor
+Mrs. Cheyne, who bore all her troubles badly and was of a
+proud, fretful disposition. But then Mrs. Cheyne had lost her
+husband and her two children, and led such a sad, lonely life;
+and no such troubles had fallen to Miss Middleton.</p>
+<p>Elizabeth Middleton could afford to be happy, they said, for
+she was the delight of her father&#8217;s eyes. Her young half-brother,
+Hammond, who was with his regiment in India, was not nearly
+so dear to the old man; and of course that was why she had
+never married, that her father&#8217;s house might not be left
+desolate.</p>
+<p>This is how people talked; but not a single person in Hadleigh
+knew that Elizabeth Middleton had had a great sorrow in her
+life.</p>
+<p>She had been engaged for some years most happily, and with
+her father&#8217;s consent, to one of his brother officers. Captain
+Sedgwick was of good family, but poor; and they were waiting
+for his promotion, for at that time Colonel Middleton would
+have been unable to give his daughter any dowry. Elizabeth
+was young and happy, and she could afford to wait. No girl
+ever gloried in her lover more than she did in hers. Capel
+Sedgwick was not only brave and singularly handsome, but he
+bore a reputation through the whole regiment for having a
+higher standard of duty than most men.</p>
+<p>Promotion came at last, and, just as Elizabeth was gayly making
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span>
+preparations for her marriage, fatal tidings were brought to
+her. Major Sedgwick had gone to visit an old servant in the
+hospital who had been struck down with cholera; he had
+remained with him some time, and on his return to his bungalow
+the same fell disease had attacked him, and before many
+hours were over he was dead. The shock was a terrible one;
+in the first moments of her bitter loss, Elizabeth cried out that
+her misery was too great,&mdash;that all happiness was over for her
+in this world, and that she only prayed that she might be
+buried in the same grave with Capel.</p>
+<p>The light had not yet come to the poor soul that felt itself
+afflicted past endurance and could find no reason for such pain.
+It could not be said that Elizabeth bore her trouble better than
+other girls would have borne theirs under like circumstances.
+She fretted and grew thin, and dashed herself wildly against
+the inevitable, only reproaching herself for her selfishness and
+want of submission when she looked at her father&#8217;s care-worn
+face.</p>
+<p>But then came a time when light and peace revisited the
+wrecked heart,&mdash;when confused reasonings no longer beset the
+poor weak brain and filled it with dismay and doubt,&mdash;when the
+Divine will became her will, and there was no longer submission,
+but a most joyful surrender. And no one, and least of all she
+herself, knew when the darkness was vanquished by that clear
+uprising of pure radiance, or how those brooding wings of peace
+settled on her soul. From that time, every human being that
+came within her radius was welcome as a new object of love.
+To give and yet to give, and never to be satisfied, was a daily
+necessity of life to Elizabeth. &#8220;Now there is some one more to
+love,&#8221; she would say to herself, when a new acquaintance was
+brought to her; and, as the old adage is true that tells us love
+begets love, there was no more popular person in Hadleigh than
+Elizabeth Middleton. She had something to say in praise of
+every one; not that she was blind to the faults of her neighbors,
+but she preferred to be silent and ignore them.</p>
+<p>And she was especially kind to Mattie. In the early days of
+their intimacy, the young vicar would often speak to her of his
+sister Grace and lament their enforced separation from each
+other. Miss Middleton listened sympathetically, with the same
+sweet attention that she gave to every man, woman, and child
+that laid claim to it; but once, when he had finished, she said,
+rather gravely,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you know, Mr. Drummond, that I think your mother
+was right?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Right in dooming Grace to such a life?&#8221; he said, pausing
+in utter surprise at her remark.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pardon me; it is not her mother who dooms her,&#8221; returned
+Miss Middleton, quickly, &#8220;but duty,&mdash;her own sense of right,&mdash;everything
+that is sacred. If Mrs. Drummond had not decided
+that she could not be spared, I am convinced from all you tell
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span>
+me, that Grace would still have remained at home: her conscience
+would have been too strong for her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, perhaps you are right,&#8221; he admitted, reluctantly.
+&#8220;Grace is a noble creature, and capable of any amount of self-sacrifice.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sure of it,&#8221; returned Miss Middleton, with sparkling
+eyes. &#8220;How I should like to know her! it would be a real
+pleasure and privilege; but I am very fond of your sister Mattie,
+too.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fond of Mattie!&#8221; It was hardly brotherly, but he could
+not help that incredulous tone in his voice. How could such a
+superior woman as Miss Middleton be even tolerant of
+Mattie?</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes,&#8221; she replied, quite calmly; &#8220;I have a great respect
+for your sister. She is so unselfish and amiable, and there is
+something so genuine in her. Before everything one wants
+truth,&#8221; finished Elizabeth, taking up her work.</p>
+<p>Now, as the young clergyman entered the room, she stretched
+out her hand to him with her usual beaming smile.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is good of you, to come so soon again,&#8221; she said, making
+room for him between her father and herself. &#8220;But why
+have you not brought Mattie?&#8221; and Archie felt as though he
+had received a rebuke.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She is finishing some work,&#8221; he returned, a little confused;
+&#8220;that is, what you ladies call work. It is not always necessary
+for the clergywoman to pay visits, is it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The clergywoman, as you call her, is doing too much. I
+was scolding her this morning for not sparing herself more: I
+thought she was not looking quite well, Mr. Drummond.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Mattie is well enough,&#8221; he replied, carelessly. He had
+not come to talk about his sister: a far more interesting subject
+was in his mind. &#8220;Do you know, colonel,&#8221; he went on, with
+some animation, &#8220;that you and I have new neighbors? Do
+you remember the young ladies in the blue cambric dresses?&#8221;
+And at this question the colonel threw aside his paper at
+once.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Elizabeth has been telling me. I remember the young
+ladies perfectly. I could not help noticing them. They walked
+so well,&mdash;heads up, and as neat and trim as though they were
+on parade; pretty creatures, both of them. Elizabeth pretends
+not to be interested, but she is quite excited. Look at her!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nay, father, it is you who can talk of nothing else; but it
+will be very nice to have such pleasant neighbors. How soon
+do you think we may call on them?&#8221;</p>
+<p>And then Archie explained, with some little embarrassment,
+that he and Mattie thought of calling the following Monday and
+offering their services.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That is very thoughtful of Mattie. She is such a kind-hearted
+little creature, and is always ready to serve everybody.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span></p>
+<p>And then they entered into a discussion on the new-comers
+that lasted so long that the tea-things made their appearance;
+and shortly afterwards Mr. Drummond announced that he must
+go and call on Mrs. Cheyne.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XVI_A_VISIT_TO_THE_WHITE_HOUSE' id='CHAPTER_XVI_A_VISIT_TO_THE_WHITE_HOUSE'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+<h3>A VISIT TO THE WHITE HOUSE.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Hitherto Mr. Drummond had acknowledged his afternoon
+to be a success. He had obtained a glimpse of the new-comers
+through Mrs. Crump&#8217;s screen of geraniums, and had listened
+with much interest to Colonel Middleton&#8217;s innocent gossip, while
+Miss Middleton had poured out their tea. Indeed, his attention
+had quite flattered his host.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Really, Drummond is a very intelligent fellow,&#8221; he observed
+to his daughter, when they were at last left alone,&mdash;&#8220;a
+very intelligent fellow, and so thoroughly gentlemanly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, he is very nice,&#8221; returned Elizabeth; &#8220;and he seems
+wonderfully interested in our new neighbors.&#8221; And here she
+smiled a little archly.</p>
+<p>There was no doubt that Mr. Drummond had fully enjoyed
+his visit. Nevertheless, as he left Brooklyn, and set his face
+towards the White House, his manner changed, and his face
+became somewhat grave.</p>
+<p>He had told himself that he owed it to his pastoral conscience
+to call on Mrs. Cheyne; but, notwithstanding this monition, he
+disliked the duty, for he always felt on these occasions that he
+was hardly up to his office, and that this solitary member of
+his flock was not disposed to yield herself to his guidance. He
+was ready to pity her if she would allow herself to be pitied; but
+any expression of sympathy seemed repugnant to her. Any one
+so utterly lonely, so absolutely without interest in existence, he
+had never seen or thought to see; and yet he could not bring
+himself to like her, or to say more than the mere commonplace
+utterances of society. Though he was her clergyman, and bound
+by the sacredness of his office to be specially tender to the
+bruised and maimed ones of his flock, he could not get her to
+acknowledge her maimed condition to him, or to do anything
+but listen to him with cold attention, when he hinted vaguely
+that all human beings are in need of sympathy. Perhaps she
+thought him too young, and feared to find his judgments immature
+and one-sided; but certainly his visits to the White
+House were failures. Mrs. Cheyne was still young enough and
+handsome enough to need some sort of chaperonage: and though
+she professed to mock at conventionality, she acknowledged its
+claims in this respect by securing the permanent services of Miss
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span>
+Mewlstone&mdash;a lady of uncertain age and uncertain acquirements.
+It must be confessed that every one wondered at Mrs. Cheyne
+and her choice, for no one could be less companionable than
+Miss Mewlstone.</p>
+<p>She was a stout, sleepy-looking woman, with a soft voice, and in
+placidity and a certain cosyness of exterior somewhat resembled
+a large white cat. Some people declared she absolutely purred,
+and certainly her small blue eyes were ready to close on all occasions.
+She always dressed in gray,&mdash;a very unbecoming color to
+a stout person,&mdash;and when not asleep or reading (for she was a
+great reader) she seemed always busy with a mass of soft
+fleecy wool. No one heard her ever voluntarily conversing with
+her patroness. They would drive together for hours, or pass
+whole evenings in the same room, scarcely exchanging a word.
+&#8220;Just so, my dear,&#8221; she would say, in return to any observation
+made to her by Mrs. Cheyne. &#8220;Just so Mewlstone,&#8221; a young
+wag once nicknamed her.</p>
+<p>People stared incredulously when Mrs. Cheyne assured them
+her companion was a very superior woman. They thought it
+was only her satire, and did not believe her in the least. They
+would have stared still more if they had really known the extent
+of Miss Mewlstone&#8217;s acquirements.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She seems so stupid, as though she cannot talk,&#8221; one of
+Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s friends said.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, she can talk, and very well too,&#8221; returned that
+lady, quietly, &#8220;but she knows that I do not care about it; her
+silence is her great virtue in my eyes. And then she has tact,
+and knows when to keep out of the way,&#8221; finished Mrs. Cheyne,
+with the utmost frankness; and, indeed, it may be doubted
+whether any other person would have retained her position so
+long at the White House.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne was no favorite with the young pastor, nevertheless
+she was an exceedingly handsome woman. Before the
+bloom of her youth had worn off she had been considered absolutely
+beautiful. As regarded the form of her features, there
+was no fault to be found, but her expression was hardly pleasing.
+There was a hardness that people found a little repelling,&mdash;a
+bitter, dissatisfied droop of the lip, a weariness of gloom in the
+dark eyes, and a tendency to satire in her speech, that alienated
+people&#8217;s sympathy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am unhappy, but pity me if you dare!&#8221; seemed to be
+written legibly upon her countenance; and those who knew her
+best held their peace in her presence, and then went away and
+spoke softly to each other of the life that seemed wasted and the
+heart that was so hardened with its trouble. &#8220;What would
+the world be if every one were to bear their sorrows so badly?&#8221;
+they would say. &#8220;There is something heathenish in such utter
+want of resignation. Oh, yes, it was very sad, her losing her
+husband and children, but it all happened four or five years ago;
+and you know&#8221;&mdash;And here people&#8217;s voices dropped a little ominously,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span>
+for there were vague hints afloat that things had not
+always gone on smoothly at the White House, even when Mrs.
+Cheyne had her husband. She had been an only child, and had
+married the only survivor of a large family. Both were handsome,
+self-willed young people; neither had been used to contradiction.
+In spite of their love for each other, there had been
+a strife of wills and misunderstandings from the earliest days of
+their marriage. Neither knew what giving up meant, and before
+many months were over the White House witnessed many painful
+scenes. Herbert Cheyne was passionate, and at times
+almost violent; but there was no malice in his nature. He
+stormed furiously and forgave easily. A little forbearance
+would have turned him into a sweet-natured man; but his wife&#8217;s
+haughtiness and resentment lasted long; she never acknowledged
+herself in the wrong, never made overtures of peace, but bore
+herself on every occasion as a sorely-injured wife, a state of
+things singularly provoking to a man of Herbert Cheyne&#8217;s irritable
+temperament.</p>
+<p>There was injudicious partisanship as regarded their children:
+while Mrs. Cheyne idolized her boy, her husband lavished
+most of his attentions on the baby girl,&mdash;&#8220;papa&#8217;s girl,&#8221; as she
+always called herself in opposition to &#8220;mother&#8217;s boy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne really believed she loved her boy best, but when
+diphtheria carried off her little Jane also, she was utterly inconsolable.
+Her husband was far away when it happened: he
+had been a great traveller before his marriage, and latterly his
+matrimonial relations with his wife had been so unsatisfactory
+that virtual separation had ensued. Two or three months before
+illness, and then death, had devastated the nursery at the White
+House, he had set out for a long exploring expedition in Central
+Africa.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You make my life so unbearable that, but for the children,
+I would never care to set foot in my home again,&#8221; he had said
+to her, in one of his violent moods; and, though he repented of
+this speech afterwards, she could not be brought to believe that
+he had not meant it, and her heart had been hard against him
+even in their parting.</p>
+<p>But before many months were over she would have given all
+she possessed&mdash;to her very life&mdash;to have recalled him to her
+side. She was childless, and her health was broken; but no
+such recall was possible. Vague rumors reached her of some
+miserable disaster: people talked of a missing Englishman.
+One of the little party had already succumbed to fever and
+hardship; by and by another followed; and the last news that
+reached them was that Herbert Cheyne lay at the point of
+death in the kraal of a friendly tribe. Since then the silence
+had been of the grave: not one of the party had survived to
+bring the news of his last moments: there had been illness and
+disaster from the first.</p>
+<p>When Mrs. Cheyne recovered from the nervous disorder that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span>
+had attacked her on the receipt of this news, she put on widow&#8217;s
+mourning, and wore it for two years; then she sent for Miss
+Mewlstone, and set herself to go through with the burden of her
+life. If she found it heavy, she never complained: she was
+silent on her own as on other people&#8217;s troubles. Only at the
+sight of a child of two or three years of age she would turn pale,
+and draw down her veil, and if it ran up to her, as would sometimes
+happen, she would put it away from her angrily, pushing
+it away almost with violence, and no child was ever suffered to
+cross her threshold.</p>
+<p>The drawing-room at the White House was a spacious apartment,
+with four long windows opening on the lawn. Mrs.
+Cheyne was sitting in her low chair, reading, with Miss Mewlstone
+at the farther end of the room, with her knitting-basket
+beside her; two or three grayhounds were grouped near her.
+They all rushed forward with furious barks as Mr. Drummond
+was announced, and then leaped joyously round him. Mrs.
+Cheyne put down her book, and greeted him with a frosty smile.</p>
+<p>She had laid aside her widow&#8217;s weeds, but still dressed in
+black, the sombreness of her apparel harmonizing perfectly with
+her pale, creamy complexion. Her dress was always rich in
+material, and most carefully adjusted. In her younger days it
+had been an art with her,&mdash;almost a passion,&mdash;and it had grown
+into a matter of custom.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are very good to come again so soon, Mr. Drummond,&#8221;
+she said, as she gave him her hand. The words were civil, but
+a slight inflection on the word &#8220;soon&#8221; made Mr. Drummond
+feel a little uncomfortable. Did she think he called too often?
+He wished he had brought Mattie; only last time she had been
+so satirical, and had quizzed the poor little thing unmercifully;
+not that Mattie had found out that she was being quizzed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hardly thought I should find you at home, it is so fine an
+afternoon; but I made the attempt, you see,&#8221; he continued, a
+little awkwardly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your parochial conscience was uneasy, I suppose, because I
+was missing at church?&#8221; she returned, somewhat slyly. &#8220;You
+would make a capital overseer, Mr. Drummond,&#8221;&mdash;with a short
+laugh. &#8220;A headache is a good excuse, is it not? I had a headache,
+had I not, Miss Mewlstone?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, my dear, just so,&#8221; returned Miss Mewlstone. She
+always called her patroness &#8220;my dear.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Mewlstone gave me the heads of the sermon, so it was
+not quite labor lost, as regards one of your flock. I am afraid
+you think me a black sheep because I stay away so often,&mdash;a very
+black sheep, eh, Mr. Drummond?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is not for me to judge,&#8221; he said, still more awkwardly.
+&#8220;Headaches are very fair excuses; and if one be not blessed
+with good health&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My health is perfect,&#8221; she returned, interrupting him ruthlessly.
+&#8220;I have no such convenient plea under which to shelter
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span>
+myself. Miss Mewlstone suffers far more from headaches than
+I do. Don&#8217;t you, Miss Mewlstone?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just so; yes, indeed, my dear,&#8221; proceeded softly from the
+other end of the room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sorry to hear it,&#8221; commenced Mr. Drummond, in a
+sympathizing tone of voice. But his tormentor again interrupted
+him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am a sad backslider, am I not? I wonder if you have a
+sermon ready for me? Do you lecture your parishioners, Mr.
+Drummond, rich as well as poor? What a pity it is you are
+so young! Lectures are more suitable with gray hair; a hoary
+head might have some chance against my satire. A woman&#8217;s
+tongue is a difficult thing to keep in order, is it not? I dare say
+you find that with Miss Mattie?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Drummond was literally on thorns. He had no repartee
+ready. She was secretly exasperating him as usual, making
+his youth a reproach, and rendering it impossible for him to be
+his natural frank self with her. In her presence he was always
+at a disadvantage. She seemed to take stock of his learning
+and to mock at the idea of his pastoral claims. It was not the
+first time she had called herself a black sheep, or had spoken
+of her scanty attendances at church. But as yet he had not
+dared to rebuke her; he had a feeling that she might fling back
+his rebuke with a jest, and his dignity forbade this. Some day
+he owed it to his conscience to speak a word to her,&mdash;to tell her
+of the evil effects of such an example; but the convenient season
+had not yet arrived.</p>
+<p>He was casting about in his own mind for some weighty
+sentence with which to answer her; but she again broke in
+upon his silence:</p>
+<p>&#8220;It seems that I am to escape to-day. I hope you are not a
+lax disciplinarian; that comes of being young. Youth is more
+tolerant, they say, of other people&#8217;s errors: it has its own glass
+houses to mind.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are too clever for me, Mrs. Cheyne,&#8221; returned the young
+man, with a deprecating smile that might have disarmed her.
+&#8220;No, I have not come to lecture: my mission is perfectly peaceful,
+as befits this lovely afternoon. I wonder what you ladies
+find to do all day?&#8221; he continued, abruptly changing the subject,
+and trying to find something that would not attract her
+satire.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne seemed a little taken aback by this direct question;
+and then she drew up her beautiful head a little haughtily,
+and laughed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, you are cunning, Mr. Drummond. You found me disposed
+to take the offensive in the matter of church-going, and
+now you are on another track. There is a lecture somewhere in
+the background. How doth the little busy bee, etc. Now, don&#8217;t
+frown,&#8221;&mdash;as Mr. Drummond knitted his brows and really looked
+annoyed: &#8220;I will not refuse to be catechised.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I should not presume to catechise you,&#8221; he returned, hastily.
+&#8220;I appeal to Miss Mewlstone if my question were not a very
+innocent one.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just so; just so,&#8221; replied Miss Mewlstone; but she looked
+a little alarmed at this appeal. &#8220;Oh, very innocent; oh, very
+so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;With two against me I must yield,&#8221; returned Mrs. Cheyne,
+with a curl of her lip. &#8220;What do we do with our time, Miss
+Mewlstone? Your occupation speaks for itself: it is exquisitely
+feminine. Don&#8217;t tell Miss Mattie, Mr. Drummond, but I never
+work. I would as soon arm myself with a dagger as a needle
+or a pair of scissors. When I am not in the air, I paint. I only
+lay aside my palette for a book.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You paint!&#8221; exclaimed Archie, with sudden interest. It
+was the first piece of information he had yet gleaned.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; she returned, indifferently: &#8220;one must do something
+to kill time, and music was never my forte. I sketch and draw
+and paint after my own sweet will. There are portfolios full of
+my sketches in there,&#8221;&mdash;with a movement of her hand towards
+a curtained recess. &#8220;No, I know what you are going to say:
+you will ask to see them; but I never show them to any one.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;For what purpose, then, do you paint them?&#8221; were the
+words on his lips; but he forbore to utter them. But she read
+the question in his eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did I not say one must kill time?&#8221; she returned, rather
+irritably: &#8220;the occupation is soothing: surely that is reason
+enough.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is a good enough reason, I suppose,&#8221; he replied, reluctantly,
+for surely he must say a word here; &#8220;but one need not
+talk about killing time, with so much that one could do.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then there came a gleam of suppressed mischief in her eyes:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know: you may spare me that. I will listen to it all
+next Sunday, if you will, when you have it your own way, and
+one cannot sin against decorum and answer you. Yes, yes,
+there is so much to do, is there not?&mdash;hungry people to be fed,
+and sick to visit,&mdash;all sorts of disagreeables that people call duties.
+Ah, I am a sad sinner! I only draw for my own amusement,
+and leave the poor old world to get on without me. What a
+burden I must be on your conscience, Mr. Drummond,&mdash;heavier
+than all the rest of your parish. What, are you going already?
+and Miss Mewlstone has never given you any tea.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then Archie explained, very shortly, that he had partaken of
+that beverage at Brooklyn, and his leave-taking was rather
+more formal than usual. He was very much surprised, as he
+stood at the hall door, that always stood open in the summer, to
+hear the low sweep of a dress over the tessellated pavement behind
+him, and to see a white pudgy hand laid on his coat-sleeve.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear Miss Mewlstone, how you startled me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just so; yes, I am afraid I did, Mr. Drummond; but I just
+wanted to say, never mind all that nonsense; come again: she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span>
+likes to see you; she does, indeed. It is only her way to talk
+so; she means no harm, poor dear,&mdash;oh, none at all!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Excuse me,&#8221; returned Archie, in a hurt voice, &#8220;but I think
+you are mistaken. Mrs. Cheyne does not care for my visits,
+and shows me she does not: if it were not my duty, I should
+not come so often.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, no; just so, but all the same it rouses her and does her
+good. It is a bad day with her, poor dear!&mdash;the very day the
+darlings were taken ill, four years ago. Now, don&#8217;t go away
+and fancy things, don&#8217;t, there&#8217;s a dear young man; come as
+often as you can, and try and do her good.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, if I only knew how that is to be done!&#8221; returned Archie,
+slowly; but he was mollified in spite of himself. There were
+tears in Miss Mewlstone&#8217;s little blue eyes: perhaps she was a
+good creature after all.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will come again, but not just yet,&#8221; he said, nodding to her
+good-humoredly; but as he walked down the road he told himself
+that Mrs. Cheyne had never before made herself so disagreeable,
+and that it would be long before he set foot in the
+White House again.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XVII_A_FRIEND_IN_NEED' id='CHAPTER_XVII_A_FRIEND_IN_NEED'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;A FRIEND IN NEED.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Human nature is weak, and we are told there are mixed
+motives to be found even in the holiest actions. Mr. Drummond
+never could be brought to acknowledge even to himself the reason
+why he took so much pains to compose his sermon for that
+Sunday. Without possessing any special claim to eloquence,
+he had always been earnest and painstaking, bestowing much
+labor on the construction and finish of his sentences, which
+were in consequence more elaborate than original. At times,
+when he took less pains and was simpler in style, he seldom
+failed to satisfy his hearers. His voice was pleasant and well
+modulated, and his delivery remarkably quiet and free from
+any tricks of gestures.</p>
+<p>But on this occasion his subject baffled him; he wrote and
+rewrote whole pages, and then grew discontented with his work.
+On the Sunday in question he woke with the conviction that
+something out of the common order of events distinguished
+the day from other days; but even as this thought crossed his
+mind he felt ashamed of himself, and was in consequence a little
+more dictatorial than usual at the breakfast-table.</p>
+<p>The inhabitants of Hadleigh were well accustomed to the
+presence of strangers in their church. In the season there was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span>
+a regular influx of visitors that filled the lodging-houses to
+overflowing. Hadleigh had always prided itself on its gentility,
+as a watering-place it was select and exclusive; only the upper
+middle classes, and a sprinkling of the aristocracy, were the
+habitual frequenters of the little town. It was too quiet; it
+offered too few attractions to draw the crowds that flocked to
+other places. Mr. Drummond&#8217;s congregation was well used by
+this time to see new faces in the strangers&#8217; pew; nevertheless,
+a little thrill of something like surprise and excitement moved
+a few of the younger members as Nan and her sisters walked
+down the aisle, with their mother following them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The mother is almost as good-looking as her daughters,&#8221;
+thought Colonel Middleton, as he regarded the group through
+his gold-mounted eye-glasses, and Miss Middleton looked up
+for an instant from her prayer-book. Even Mrs. Cheyne roused
+from the gloomy abstraction which was her usual approach to
+devotion, and looked long and curiously at the three girlish
+faces before her. It was refreshing even to her to see anything
+so fresh and bright-looking.</p>
+<p>Nan and her sisters were perfectly oblivious of the sensation
+they were making. Nan&#8217;s pretty face was a trifle clouded: the
+strange surroundings, the sight of all those people unknown to
+them, instead of the dear, familiar faces that had always been
+before her, gave the girl a dreary feeling of oppression and dismay.
+Her voice quavered audibly as she sang, and one or two
+drops fell on her prayer-book as she essayed to join in the petitions.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why is there not a special clause in the Litany for those
+who are perplexed and in poverty? It is not only from murder
+and sudden death one need pray to be delivered,&#8221; thought
+Nan, with much sinking of heart. &#8220;Oh, how helpless they
+were,&mdash;so young, and only girls, with a great unknown world
+before them, and Dick away, ignorant of their worst troubles,
+and too youthful a knight to win his spurs and pledge himself to
+their service!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan&#8217;s sweet downcast face drew many eyes in the direction of
+the great square pew in which they sat. Phillis intercepted
+some of these looks, as her attention insensibly wandered during
+the service. It was wrong, terribly wrong of course, but
+her thoughts would not concentrate themselves on the lesson
+the young vicar was reading in his best style. She was not
+heavy-hearted like Nan; on the contrary, little thrills of excitement,
+of impatience, of repressed amusement, pervaded her mind,
+as she looked at the strange faces round her &#8220;They would not be
+long strange,&#8221; she thought: &#8220;some of them would be her neighbors.
+What would they say, all these people, when they
+knew&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; And here Phillis held her breath a moment. People
+were wondering even now who they were. They had dressed
+themselves that morning, rehearsing their parts, as it were, with
+studied simplicity. The gown Nan wore was as inexpensive as
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span>
+a gown could be; her hat was a model of neatness and propriety:
+nevertheless, Phillis groaned in spirit as she glanced at
+her. Where had she got that style? She looked like a young
+princess who was playing at Arcadia. Would people ever dare
+to ask her to work for them? Would they not beg her pardon,
+and cry shame on themselves for entertaining such a thought
+for a moment? Phillis almost envied Nan, who was shedding
+salt tears on her prayer-book. She thought she was absorbed in
+her devotions, while her own thoughts would wander so sadly;
+and then a handsome face in the opposite pew attracted her attention.
+Surely that must be Mrs. Cheyne, who lived in the
+White House near them, of whom Nan had talked,&mdash;the poor
+woman who had lost husband and children and who lived in solitary
+state. The sermon had now commenced, but Phillis turned
+a deaf ear to the sentences over which Mr. Drummond had expended
+so much labor: her attention was riveted by the gloomy
+beautiful face before her, which alternately attracted and repelled
+her.</p>
+<p>As though disturbed by some magnetic influence, Mrs. Cheyne
+raised her eyes slowly and looked at Phillis. Something in the
+girl&#8217;s keen-eyed glance seemed to move her strangely. The
+color crept into her pale face, and her lip quivered: a moment
+afterwards she drew down her veil and leaned back in her seat
+and Phillis, somewhat abashed, endeavored fruitlessly to gather
+up the thread of the sermon.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There! it is over! We have made our <i>debut</i>,&#8221; she said,
+a little recklessly, as they walked back to Beach House, where
+Mrs. Challoner and Dulce were still staying. And as Nan looked
+at her, a little shocked and mystified by this unusual flippancy,
+she continued in the same excited way:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Was it not strange Mr. Drummond choosing that text,
+&#8216;Consider the lilies&#8217;? He looked at us; I am sure he did,
+mother. It was quite a tirade against dress and vanity; but I
+am sure no one could find fault with us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was a very good sermon, and I think he seems a very clever
+young man,&#8221; returned Mrs. Challoner, with a sigh, for the
+service had been a long weariness for her. She had not been
+unmindful of the attention her girls had caused; but if people
+only knew&mdash;And here the poor lady had clasped her hands and
+put up petitions that were certainly not in the Litany.</p>
+<p>Phillis seemed about to say something, but she checked herself,
+and they were all a little silent until they reached the
+house. This first Sunday was an infliction to them all: it was
+a day of enforced idleness. There was too much time for thought
+and room for regret. In spite of all Phillis&#8217;s efforts,&mdash;and she
+rattled on cheerily most of the afternoon,&mdash;Mrs. Challoner got
+one of her bad headaches, from worry, and withdrew to her
+room, attended by Dulce, who volunteered to bathe her head
+and read her to sleep.</p>
+<p>The church-bells were just ringing for the evening service, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span>
+Nan rose, as usual, to put on her hat; but Phillis stopped
+her:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Nan, do not let us go to church again this evening. I
+am terribly wicked to-day, I know, but somehow I cannot keep
+my thoughts in order. So what is the use of making the attempt?
+Let us take out our prayer-books and sit on the beach:
+it is low tide, and a walk over the sands would do us good
+after our dreadful week.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you are sure it would not be wrong,&#8221; hesitated Nan,
+whose conscience was a little hard to convince in such matters.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, no. And the run will do Laddie good. The poor little
+fellow has been shut up in this room all day. We need not tell
+the mother. She would be shocked, you know. But we never
+have stayed away from church before, have we? And, to tell
+you the truth,&#8221; continued Phillis, with an unsteady laugh that betrayed
+agitation to her sister&#8217;s ear, &#8220;though I faced it very well
+this morning, I do not feel inclined to go through it again.
+People stared so. And I could not help thinking all the time,
+&#8216;If they only knew!&#8217;&mdash;that was the thought that kept buzzing
+in my head. If only Mr. Drummond and all those people
+knew!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What does it matter what people think?&#8221; returned Nan.
+But she said it languidly. In her heart she was secretly dismayed
+at this sudden failure of courage. Phillis had been quite
+bold and merry all the day, almost reckless in her speeches.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am glad we came. This will do us both good,&#8221; said Nan,
+gently, as they left the parade behind them, and went slowly
+over the shelving beach, with Laddie rolling like a clumsy black
+ball about their feet. Just before them there was a pretty black-timbered
+cottage, covered with roses, standing quite low on
+the shore, and beyond this was nothing but shingly beach, and
+a stretch of wet, yellow sand, on which the sun was shining.
+There was a smooth white boulder standing quite alone, on
+which the girls seated themselves. The tide was still going
+out; and the low wash of waves sounded pleasantly in their
+ears as they advanced and then receded. A shimmer of silvery
+light played upon the water, and a rosy tinge began to tint the
+horizon.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How quiet and still it is!&#8221; said Phillis, in an awe-struck
+voice. &#8220;When we are tired we must come here to rest ourselves.
+How prettily those baby waves seem to babble! it is
+just like the gurgle of baby laughter. And look at Laddie
+splashing in that pool: he is after that poor little crab. Come
+here, you rogue!&#8221; But Laddie, intent upon his sport, only
+cocked his ear restlessly and refused to obey.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, it is lovely,&#8221; returned Nan. &#8220;There is quite a silvery
+path over the water; by and by the sunset clouds will be beautiful.
+But what is the matter, dear?&#8221; as Phillis sighed and
+leaned heavily against her; and then, as she turned, she saw
+the girl&#8217;s eyes were wet.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Nan! shall we have strength for it? That is what I
+keep asking myself to-day. No you must not look so frightened.
+I am brave enough generally, and I do not mean to lose
+pluck; but now and then the thought will come to me, Shall
+we have strength to go through with it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We must think of each other; that must keep us up,&#8221; returned
+Nan, whose ready sympathy fully understood her sister&#8217;s
+mood. Only to Nan would Phillis ever own her failure of
+courage or fears for the future. But now and then the brave
+young heart needed comfort, and always found it in Nan&#8217;s
+sympathy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was looking at your dear beautiful face that made me feel
+so suddenly bad this morning,&#8221; interrupted Phillis, with a sort
+of sob. &#8220;It was not the people so much; they only amused
+and excited me, and I kept thinking, &#8216;If they only knew!&#8217;
+But, Nan, when I looked at you&mdash;oh, why are you so nice and
+pretty, if you have got to do this horrid work?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am not a bit nicer than you and Dulce,&#8221; laughed Nan,
+embracing her, for she never could be made to understand that
+by most people she was considered their superior in good looks.
+The bare idea made her angry. &#8220;It is worse for you, Phillis,
+because you are so clever and have so many ideas. But there!
+we must not go on pitying each other, or else, indeed, we shall
+undermine our little stock of strength.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But don&#8217;t you feel terribly unhappy sometimes?&#8221; persisted
+Phillis. Neither of them mentioned Dick, and yet he was in
+both their minds.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps I do,&#8221; returned Nan, simply; and then she added,
+with quaintness that was pathetic, &#8220;You see, we are so unused
+to the feeling, and it is over-hard at first: by and by we shall
+be more used to not having our own way in things.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think I could give up that readily, if I could be sure you
+and Dulce were not miserable,&#8221; sighed Phillis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That is what I say,&#8221; returned Nan. &#8220;Don&#8217;t you see how
+simple and beautiful that is? Thinking of each other gives us
+strength to go through with it all. This evening trying to cheer
+you up has done me good. I do not feel the least afraid of
+people to-night. Looking at that sea and sky makes one feel
+the littleness and unreality of all these worries. What does it
+matter&mdash;what does anything matter&mdash;if we only do our duty
+and love each other, and submit to the Divine will?&#8221; finished
+Nan, reverently, who seldom spoke of her deeper feelings, even
+to Phillis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nan, you are a saint,&#8221; returned Phillis, enthusiastically.
+The worried look had left her eyes; they looked clear and bright
+as usual. &#8220;Oh, what a heathen I have been to-day! but, as
+Dulce is so fond of saying, &#8216;I am going to be good. I will read
+the evening Psalms to you, in token of my resolution, if you
+like. But wait: is there not some one coming across the sand!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span>
+How eerie it looks, such a tall black figure standing between the
+earth and sky!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis had good sight, or she would hardly have distinguished
+the figure, which was now motionless, at such a distance.
+In another moment she even announced that its draperies
+showed it to be a woman, before she opened her book and
+commenced reading.</p>
+<p>There is something very striking in a lonely central figure in
+a scene, the outline cuts so sharply against the horizon. Nan&#8217;s
+eyes seemed riveted on it as she listened to Phillis&#8217;s voice; it
+seemed to her as immovable as a Sphinx, its rigidity lending
+a sort of barrenness and forlornness to the landscape, a black
+edition of human nature set under a violet and opal sky.</p>
+<p>She almost started when it moved, at last, with a steady bearing,
+as it seemed, towards them; then curiosity quickened into
+interest, and she touched Phillis&#8217;s arm, whispering breathlessly,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Sphinx moves! Look&mdash;is not that Mrs. Cheyne, the
+lady who lives at the White House near us, who always looks
+so lonely and unhappy?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hush!&#8221; returned Phillis, &#8220;she will hear you;&#8221; and then
+Mrs. Cheyne approached with the same swift even walk. She
+looked at them for a moment, as she passed, with a sort of well-bred
+surprise in her air, as though she marvelled to see them
+there; her black dress touched Laddie, and he caught at it with
+an impotent bark.</p>
+<p>The sisters must have made a pretty picture, as they sat
+almost clinging together on the stone: one of Nan&#8217;s little white
+hands rested on Laddie&#8217;s head, the other lay on Phillis&#8217;s lap.
+Phillis glanced up from her book, keen-eyed and alert in a
+moment; she turned her head to look at the stranger that had
+excited her interest, and then rose to her feet with a little cry
+of dismay.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Nan, I am afraid she has hurt herself! She gave such
+a slip just now. I wonder what has happened? She is leaning
+against the breakwater, too. Shall we go and ask her if she
+feels ill or anything?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You may go,&#8221; was Nan&#8217;s answer. Nevertheless, she followed
+Phillis.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne looked up at them a little sharply as they came
+towards her. Her face was gray and contracted with pain.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have slipped on a wet stone, and my foot has somehow
+turned on me,&#8221; she said, quickly, as Phillis ran up to her. &#8220;It
+was very stupid. I cannot think how it happened; but I have
+certainly sprained my ankle. It gives me such pain. I cannot
+move.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear, I am so sorry!&#8221; returned Phillis, good-naturedly;
+and, in the most natural manner, she knelt down on the beach,
+and took the injured foot in her hands. &#8220;Yes, I can feel it is
+swelling dreadfully: we must try and get your boot off before
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span>
+the attempt gets too painful.&#8221; And she commenced unfastening
+it with deft fingers.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How am I to walk without my boot?&#8221; observed Mrs.
+Cheyne, a little drily, as she looked down on the girl; but here
+Nan interposed in her brisk sensible way:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must not walk; you must not think of such a thing.
+We will wet our handkerchiefs in the salt water, and bind up
+your ankle as well as we can; and then one of us will walk over
+to the White House for assistance. Your servants could easily
+obtain a wheeled chair.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You knew I lived at the White House, then?&#8221; returned
+Mrs. Cheyne, arching her eyebrows in some surprise; but she
+offered no opposition to Nan&#8217;s plan. The removal of the boot
+had brought on a sensation of faintness, and she sat perfectly
+still and quiet while the girls swathed the foot in wet bandages.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is a little easier now,&#8221; she observed, gratefully. &#8220;How
+neatly you have done it! you must be used to such work. I
+am really very much obliged to you both for your kindly help;
+and now I am afraid I must trouble you further if I am ever
+to reach home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will go at once,&#8221; returned Nan, cheerfully; &#8220;but I will
+leave my sister for fear you should feel faint again: besides, it
+is so lonely.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I am used to loneliness!&#8221; was the reply, as a bitter expression
+crossed her face.</p>
+<p>Phillis, who was still holding the sprained foot in her lap,
+looked up in her eager way.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think one gets used to everything; that is a merciful dispensation;
+but all the same I hope you will not send me away.
+I dearly like to be useful; and at present my object is to prevent
+your foot coming into contact with these stones. Are you
+really in less pain now?&mdash;you look dreadfully pale.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that is nothing!&#8221; she returned, with a smile so sudden
+and sweet that it quite startled Phillis, for it lit up her face like
+sunshine; but almost before she caught it, it was gone. &#8220;How
+good you are to me! and yet I am a perfect stranger!&#8221; and then
+she added, as though with an afterthought, &#8220;But I saw you
+in church this morning.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis nodded: the question certainly required no answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If I knew you better, I should ask why your eyes questioned
+me so closely this morning. Do you know, Miss&mdash;Miss&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;
+And here she hesitated and smiled, waiting for Phillis to fill up
+the blank.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My name is Challoner,&mdash;Phillis Challoner,&#8221; replied Phillis,
+coloring a little; and then she added, frankly, &#8220;I am afraid you
+thought me rude, and that I stared at you, but my thoughts
+were all topsy-turvy this morning and refused to be kept in
+order. One feels curious, somehow, about the people among
+whom one has come to live.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have you come to live here?&#8221; asked Mrs. Cheyne, eagerly,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span>
+and a gleam of pleasure shot into her dark eyes,&mdash;&#8220;you, and
+your mother and sisters?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; we have just come to the Friary,&mdash;a little cottage
+standing on the Braidwood Road.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Her manner became a little constrained and reserved as she
+said this: the charming frankness disappeared.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Friary!&#8221; echoed Mrs. Cheyne; and then she paused for
+a moment, and her eyes rested searchingly on Phillis. &#8220;That
+shabby little cottage!&#8221; was the thought that filled up the outline
+of her words; but, though she felt inward surprise and a momentary
+disappointment, there was no change in the graciousness
+of her manner. Never before had she so thawed to any one:
+but the girl&#8217;s sweet ministry had won her heart. &#8220;Then you
+will be near me,&mdash;just at my gates? We shall be close neighbors.
+I hope you will come and see me, Miss Challoner.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Poor Phillis! the blood suddenly rushed over her face at this.
+How was she to answer without appearing ungracious?&mdash;and
+yet at this moment how could she explain?</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you please, we are dressmakers.&#8221; Oh, no! such words
+as these would not get themselves said. It was too abrupt, too
+sudden, altogether: she was not prepared for such a thing.
+Oh, why had she not gone to the White House instead of Nan?
+Her officiousness had brought this on her. She could not put
+the poor foot off her lap and get up and walk away to cool her
+hot cheeks.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you; you are very good,&#8221; she stammered, feeling
+herself an utter fool: she,&mdash;Phillis,&mdash;the clever one!</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne seemed rather taken aback by the girl&#8217;s sudden
+reserve and embarrassment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose you think I should call first, and thank you for
+your kindness,&#8221; she returned, quickly; &#8220;but I was afraid my
+foot would keep me too long a prisoner. And, as we are to be
+neighbors, I hardly thought it necessary to stand on ceremony;
+but if you would rather wait&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no,&#8221; replied Phillis, in despair; &#8220;we will not trouble
+you to do that! Nan and I will call and ask after your foot,
+and then we will explain. There is a little difficulty: you
+might not care to be friends with us if you knew,&#8221; went on Phillis
+with burning cheeks; &#8220;but we will call and explain. Oh, yes,
+Nan and I will call!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do; I shall expect you,&#8221; returned Mrs. Cheyne, half
+amused and half mystified at the girl&#8217;s obvious confusion.
+What did the child mean? They were gentle-people,&mdash;one could
+see that at a glance. They were in reduced circumstances:
+they had come down to Hadleigh to retrench. Well, what did
+that matter? People&#8217;s wealth or poverty never affected her;
+she would think none the less well of them for that; she would
+call at the Friary and entertain them at the White House with
+as much pleasure as though they lived in a palace. The little
+mystery piqued her, and yet excited her interest. It was long
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span>
+since she had interested herself so much in anything. To Miss
+Middleton she had always been cold and uncertain. Mr.
+Drummond she treated with a mixture of satire and haughtiness
+that aroused his ire. Phillis&#8217;s frankness and simplicity had
+won her for a moment to her earlier and better self: she conceived
+an instantaneous liking for the girl who looked at her with
+such grave kindly glances. &#8220;I shall expect you, remember,&#8221; she
+repeated, as Nan at that moment appeared in sight.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, Nan and I will come,&#8221; returned Phillis, slowly,
+and almost solemnly; but an instant afterwards a flicker of
+amusement played round her mouth. It was painful, of course;
+but, still, how droll it was!</p>
+<p>&#8220;How long you have been, Nan!&#8221; she exclaimed, a little
+unreasonably, as Nan ran towards them, flushed and breathless
+from her haste.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It has not been long to me,&#8221; observed Mrs. Cheyne,
+pointedly. She talked more to Nan than to Phillis after this,
+until the servants appeared with the wheeled chair; but
+nevertheless her last words were for Phillis. &#8220;Remember your
+promise,&#8221; was all she said, as she held out her hand to the
+girl; and Phillis tried to smile in answer, though it was rather
+a failure after all.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII_DOROTHY_BRINGS_IN_THE_BEST_CHINA' id='CHAPTER_XVIII_DOROTHY_BRINGS_IN_THE_BEST_CHINA'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
+<h3>DOROTHY BRINGS IN THE BEST CHINA.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>&#8220;What a fool I made of myself yesterday! but to-day
+Richard is himself again,&#8221; said Phillis, as she gathered up another
+muslin curtain in her arms ready to hand to Nan, who
+was mounted on some steps. It was only Monday afternoon,
+but the girls had done wonders: the work-room, as they called
+it, was nearly finished. The great carved wardrobe and mahogany
+table had been polished by Dorothy&#8217;s strong hands.
+Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s easy-chair and little work-table at one window
+looked quite inviting; the sewing-machine and Nan&#8217;s rosewood
+davenport were in their places. A hanging cupboard of old
+china, and a few well-bound books, gave a little coloring and
+finish, and one or two fine old prints that had hung in the
+dining-room at Glen Cottage had been disposed with advantage
+on the newly-papered walls. An inlaid clock ticked on the
+mantelpiece, and some handsome ruby-colored vases stood on
+either side of it. Nan was quite right when she had glanced
+round her a few minutes ago in a satisfied manner and said no
+one need be ashamed of living in such a room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Our pretty things make it look almost too nice for the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span>
+purpose,&#8221; she continued, handling a precious relic, a Sevres cup
+and saucer, that had been her especial pride in old days. &#8220;I
+think you were wrong, Phil, not to have the china in the other
+room.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, indeed; I want people to see it and be struck with our
+taste,&#8221; was Phillis&#8217;s frank answer. &#8220;Think what pleasure it
+will give the poor ladies when their dresses are being tried on.
+Don&#8217;t you remember the basket of wax fruit at Miss Slinders&#8217;s,
+when we were small children? I thought it the loveliest work
+of art, and feasted my eyes all the time Miss Slinders was fitting
+my pink frock. Now, our pictures and china will refresh
+people&#8217;s eyes in the same way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan smiled and shook her head, as she dusted and arranged
+her treasures. The china was very dear to her,&mdash;far more than
+the books Phillis was arranging on the chiffonnier. The Dresden
+figures that Dick had given to her mother were among
+them. She did not care for strangers to look at them and appraise
+their value. They were home treasures,&mdash;sacred relics
+of their past. The last time she had dusted them, a certain
+young man of her acquaintance had walked through the open
+window whistling &#8220;Blue bonnets over the Border,&#8221; and had
+taken up his station beside her, hindering her work with his
+chattering. Dulce was in the upper regions, unpacking a box
+in her mother&#8217;s room. Mrs. Challoner was coming home the
+next day, and Dorothy and she were hard at work getting
+things in order.</p>
+<p>When Phillis made her downright speech, Nan looked down
+from her lofty perch, and held out her arms for the curtain.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Richard is always himself, my dear,&#8221; she said, softly. &#8220;Do
+you know when you are down, Phil, I feel as though we are all
+at a stand-still, and there&#8217;s no getting on at all? and then at one
+of your dear droll speeches the sunshine comes out again, and
+we are all as right as possible.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t talk nonsense,&#8221; was Phillis&#8217;s blunt answer; but she
+could not help being pleased at the compliment. She looked up
+archly at Nan, as the mass of soft white drapery lay between
+them; and then they both broke into a laugh, just as two
+shadows seemed to glide past the window, and a moment afterwards
+the house-bell sounded. &#8220;Visitors!&mdash;oh, Nan!&#8221; And
+Phillis glanced down at the neat bib apron that she wore over
+her cambric dress.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be afraid; Dorothy will have too much sense to admit
+them,&#8221; returned Nan, quite indifferently, as she went up a
+step higher to hang up the curtain.</p>
+<p>Phillis was still holding it; but her manner was not quite so
+well assured. She thought she heard Dulce&#8217;s voice in confabulation
+with the stranger. A moment afterwards Dulce came
+briskly into the room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nan, Mr. Drummond and his sister have kindly called to
+see us. We are not in order, of course. Oh, dear!&#8221; as Nan
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span>
+looked down on them with startled eyes, not venturing to descend
+from her perch. &#8220;I ought not to have brought them in
+here,&#8221; looking half mischievously and half guiltily at the young
+clergyman, who stood hat in hand on the threshold.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is I who ought not to have intruded,&#8221; he began, in a perfect
+agony of embarrassment, blushing over his face like a girl
+as Nan looked down at him in much dignity, but Mattie, who
+was behind him, pushed forward in her usual bustling way.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Miss Challoner, it is too bad! I told Archie that we
+ought not to come too soon&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; but Phillis stopped her with an
+outstretched hand of welcome.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is too bad? I call it very kind and friendly of you
+both: one hardly expected to find such good neighbors. Nan,
+if that curtain is finished I think you had better come down.
+Take care; those steps are rickety: perhaps Mr. Drummond
+will help you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let me do the other ones for you. I don&#8217;t think those steps
+are safe!&#8221; exclaimed Archie, with sudden inspiration.</p>
+<p>No one at home would have believed such a thing of him.
+Mattie&#8217;s eyes grew quite round and fixed with astonishment at
+the sight. He had not even shaken hands with Nan, yet there
+he was, mounted in her place, slipping in the hooks with
+dexterous hands, while Nan quietly held up the curtain.</p>
+<p>Months afterwards the scene came back on Archibald
+Drummond with a curious thrill half of pain and half of amusement.
+How had he done it? he wondered. What had made him all
+at once act in a way so unlike himself?&mdash;for, with the best
+intention, he was always a little stiff and constrained with
+strangers. Yet there he was laughing as though he had known
+them all his life, because Nan had rebuked him gravely for
+slipping two hooks into one ring. Months afterwards he
+recalled it all: Nan glancing up at him with quietly amused eyes,
+Phillis standing apart, looking quaint and picturesque in her
+bib-apron, Dulce with the afternoon sunshine lighting up her
+brown hair; the low old-fashioned room, with the great carved
+wardrobe, and the cupboard of dainty china; the shady little
+lawn outside, with Laddie rolling among the daisies. What
+made it suddenly start up in his memory like a picture one has
+seen and never quite forgotten?</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, Mr. Drummond. You have done it so nicely,&#8221;
+said Nan, with the utmost gravity, as he lingered, almost
+unwilling to descend to conventionality again. Dulce and Phillis
+were busily engaged looping up the folds. &#8220;Now we will ask
+Dorothy to remove the steps and then we can sit down comfortably.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But here Archie interposed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why need you call any one? Tell me where I shall put
+them.&#8221; Mattie broke into a loud laugh. She could not help
+it. It was too droll of Archie. She must write and tell
+Grace.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span></p>
+<p>Archie heard the laugh as he marched out of the room with
+his burden, and it provoked him excessively. He made some
+excuse about admiring Laddie, and went out on the lawn for a
+few minutes, accompanied by Nan. When they came back, the
+curtains were finished and the two girls were talking to Mattie.
+Mattie seemed quite at ease with them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We have such a dear old garden at the vicarage,&#8221; she was
+saying, as her brother came into the room. &#8220;I am not much
+of a gardener myself but Archie works for hours at a time.
+He talks of getting a set of tennis down from town. We think
+it will help to bring people together. You must promise to
+come and play sometimes of an afternoon when you have got
+the cottage in order.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; returned Phillis; and then Nan and she exchanged
+looks. A sort of blankness came over the sisters&#8217; faces,&mdash;a
+sudden dying out of the brightness and fun.</p>
+<p>Mr. Drummond grew a little alarmed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hope you will not disappoint my sister. She has few
+friends, and is rather lonely, missing so many sisters; and you
+are such close neighbors.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, we are close neighbors,&#8221; returned Phillis. But her
+voice was a little less clear than usual; and, to Archie&#8217;s astonishment,&mdash;for
+they all seemed talking comfortably together,&mdash;her
+face had grown suddenly pale. &#8220;But you must not
+think us unkind if we refuse your hospitality,&#8221; she went on, looking
+straight at him, and not at Mattie. &#8220;Owing to painful circumstances,
+we have made up our minds that no such pleasure
+are in store for us. We must learn to do without things:
+must we not, Nan?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed,&#8221; returned Nan, very gravely. And then the
+tears came into Dulce&#8217;s eyes. Was Phillis actually going to tell
+them? She would have run away, only she was ashamed of
+such cowardice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hope you do not mean to do without friends,&#8221; stammered
+Archie. &#8220;That would be too painful to bear.&#8221; He thought
+they were excusing themselves from partaking of their neighbors&#8217;
+hospitality because they were too poor to return it, and
+wanted to set them at their ease. &#8220;You may have reasons for
+wishing to be quiet. Perhaps Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s health, and&mdash;and&mdash;parties
+are not always desirable,&#8221; he went on, floundering,
+a little in his speech, and signing to Mattie to come to his help,
+which she did at once, breathlessly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Parties! Oh, dear, no! They are such a trouble and expense.
+But tennis and tea on the lawn is just nothing,&mdash;nothing
+at all. One can give a little fruit and some home-made cake.
+No one need scruple at that. Archie is not rich,&mdash;clergymen
+never are, you know,&mdash;but he means to entertain his friends as
+well as he can. I should like you to see Miss Middleton. She
+is a charming person. And the colonel is as nice as possible.
+We will just ask them to meet you in a quiet way, and, if
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span>
+your mother is not too much of an invalid, I hope she will give us
+the pleasure of her company, for when people are such close
+neighbors it is stupid to stand on ceremony,&#8221; finished Mattie,
+bringing herself rapidly to a full stop.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are very kind. But you do not understand,&#8221; returned
+Phillis. And then she stopped, and a gleam of fun came into her
+eyes. Her sharp ears had caught the rattle of cups and saucers.
+Actually, that absurd Dorothy was bringing in tea in the old way,
+making believe that they were entertaining their friends in Glen
+Cottage fashion! She must get out the truth somehow before
+the pretty purple china made its appearance. &#8220;Oh,&#8221; she went
+on, with a sort of gulp, as though she felt the sudden touch of
+cold water, &#8220;you come here meaning kindly, and asking us to
+your house, and taking compassion upon us because we are
+strangers and lonely, and you do not know that we are poor,
+and that we have lost our money, and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; But here Mr.
+Drummond was absolutely rude enough to interrupt her:</p>
+<p>&#8220;What does that matter, my dear Miss Challoner? Do you
+think that is of any consequence in mine or my sister&#8217;s eyes?
+I suppose if I be your clergyman&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; And then he stopped,
+and stroked his beard in an embarrassed way; for though Phillis&#8217;s
+face was pale, there was laughter in her eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, if this be a parochial visit,&#8221; she began, demurely;
+&#8220;but you should not have talked of tennis, Mr. Drummond.
+How do you know we are not Roman Catholics, or Wesleyans,
+or even Baptists, or Bible Christians? We might have gone to
+your church out of curiosity on Sunday, or to see the fashions.
+There is not a Quaker cut about us; but, still, we might be Unitarians,
+and people would not find it out,&#8221; continued Phillis,
+looking with much solemnity at the bewildered young Anglican.</p>
+<p>The situation was too absurd; there was no knowing to what
+length Phillis&#8217;s recklessness and sense of humor would have
+brought her, only Nan&#8217;s good sense came to the rescue:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Phillis is only in fun, Mr. Drummond. Of course we are
+Church-people: and of course we hope to attend your services.
+I am sure my mother will be pleased to see you, when you are
+kind enough to call. At Oldfield we were always good friends
+with our clergyman: he was such a dear old man.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean to forbid my sister&#8217;s visits, then?&#8221; asked
+Archie, looking anxiously at her sweet face; Nan looked so
+pretty, in spite of her discomposure.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no! we do not mean to be so rude: do we, Phillis? We
+shall be so glad to see Miss Drummond; but&mdash;but,&#8221; faltered Nan,
+losing breath a little, &#8220;we have been unfortunate, and must
+work for our living; and your sister perhaps would not care to
+visit dressmakers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What!&#8221; exclaimed Archie: he almost jumped out of his
+chair in his surprise.</p>
+<p>Phillis had uttered a faint &#8220;Bravo, Nan!&#8221; but no one heard
+her. Dulce&#8217;s cheeks were crimson, and she would not look at
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span>
+any one; but Nan, who had got out the dreaded word, went on
+bravely, and was well hugged by Phillis in private afterwards.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We are not clever enough for governesses,&#8221; continued Nan,
+with a charming smile, addressing Mattie, who sat and stared at
+her, &#8220;and there was nothing we dreaded so much as to separate:
+so, as we had capable fingers and were fond of work, my
+sister Phillis planned this for us. Now you see, Miss Drummond,
+why we could not accept your kind hospitality. Whatever
+we have been, we cannot expect people to visit us now.
+If you would be good enough to recommend us, and help us in
+our efforts to make ourselves independent, that is all we can
+ask of you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I don&#8217;t know,&#8221; returned Mattie, bluntly: &#8220;as far as
+I am concerned, I am never ashamed of any honest calling.
+What do you say, Archie?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I say it is all very proper and laudable,&#8221; he returned, hesitating;
+&#8220;but surely&mdash;surely there must be some other way
+more suitable to ladies in your position! Let me call again
+when your mother comes, and see if there is nothing that I can
+do or recommend better than this. Yes, I am sure if I can
+only talk to your mother, we could find some other way than
+this.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Indeed, Mr. Drummond, you must do nothing of the kind,&#8221;
+replied Phillis, in an alarmed voice: &#8220;the poor dear mother must
+not be disturbed by any such talk! You mean it kindly, but
+we have made up our own minds, Nan and I: we mean to do
+without the world and live in one of our own; and we mean to
+carry out our plan in defiance of everything and everybody;
+and, though you are our clergyman and we are bound to listen
+to your sermons, we cannot take your advice in this.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But&mdash;but I would willingly act as a friend,&#8221; began the young
+man, confusedly, looking not at her, but at Nan.</p>
+<p>He was so bewildered, so utterly taken aback, he hardly
+knew what he said.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Here comes Dorothy with the tea,&#8221; interrupted Nan, pleasantly,
+as though dismissing the subject: &#8220;she has not forgotten
+our old customs. Friends always came around us in the afternoon.
+Mr. Drummond, perhaps you will make yourself useful
+and cut the cake. Dorothy, you need not have unpacked the best
+silver teapot.&#8221; Nan was moving about in her frank hospitable
+way. Laddie was whining for cake, and breaking into short
+barks of impatience. &#8220;This is one of our Glen Cottage cakes.
+Susan always prides herself on the recipe,&#8221; said Nan, calmly, as
+she pressed it on her guests.</p>
+<p>Mr. Drummond almost envied his sister as she praised the
+cake and asked for the recipe. He had always found fault
+with her manners; but now nothing could be finer than her
+simplicity. Pure good nature and innate womanliness were
+teaching Mattie something better than tact. Nan had dropped
+a painful subject, and she would not revive it in her brother&#8217;s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span>
+presence. There would be plenty of time for her to call and
+talk it over with them quietly. Help them!&mdash;of course she
+would help them. They should have her new silk dress that
+Uncle Conway had just sent her. It was a risk, for perhaps
+they might spoil it; but such fine creatures should have a
+chance. At present she would only enjoy the nice tea, and talk
+to poor little frightened Dulce, who seemed unable to open her
+lips after her sister&#8217;s disclosure.</p>
+<p>Archie could not emulate her ease: a man is always at a disadvantage
+in such a case. His interest had sustained no shock:
+it was even stimulated by what he had just heard; but his
+sympathy seemed all at once congealed, and he could find no
+vent for it. In spite of his best efforts his manner grew more
+and more constrained every moment.</p>
+<p>Nan looked at him more than once with reproachful sweetness.
+She thought they had lost caste in his eyes; but Phillis,
+who was shrewd and sharp-set in her wits, read him more truly.
+She knew&mdash;having already met a score of such&mdash;how addicted
+young Englishmen are to <i>mauvaise honte</i>, and how they will
+hide acute sensibilities under blunt and stolid exteriors; and
+there was a certain softness in Mr. Drummond&#8217;s eye that belied
+his stiffness. Most likely he was very sorry for them, and did
+not know how to show it; and in this she was right.</p>
+<p>Mr. Drummond was very sorry for them; but he was still
+more grieved for himself. The Oxford fellow had not long been
+a parish priest, and he could not at all understand the position
+in which he found himself,&mdash;taking tea with three elegant
+young dressmakers who talked the purest English and had decided
+views on tennis and horticulture. He had just been congratulating
+himself on securing such companionship for his
+sister and himself. Being rather classical-minded, he had been
+calling them the gray-eyed Graces, and one of them at least
+&#8220;a daughter of the gods,&mdash;divinely tall and most divinely fair;&#8221;
+for where had he seen anything to compare with Nan&#8217;s bloom
+and charming figure? Dressmakers!&mdash;oh, if only Grace were
+at hand, that he might talk to her, and gain her opinion how he
+was to act in such case! Grace had the stiff-necked Drummond
+pride as well as he, and would hesitate long behind the barriers
+of conventionality. No wonder, with all these thoughts passing
+through his mind, that Nan, with her bright surface talk,
+found him a little vague.</p>
+<p>It was quite a relief to all the party when Mattie gave the
+signal for departure and the bell was rung for Dorothy to show
+them out.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, Nan, what do you think of our visitors?&#8221; asked Phillis,
+when the garden-door had clanged noisily after them, and she
+had treated Nan to the aforesaid hugs; &#8220;for you were so brave,
+darling, and actually took the wind out of my sails!&#8221; exclaimed
+the enthusiastic Phillis. &#8220;Miss Drummond is not so bad,
+after all, is she, in spite of her dowdiness and fussy ways?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;No; she means well; and so does her brother. He is very
+nice, only his self-consciousness spoils him,&#8221; returned Nan, in
+a calm, discursive tone, as though they were discussing ordinary
+visitors.</p>
+<p>It was impossible for these young girls to see that their ordinary
+language was not humble enough for their new circumstances.
+They would make mistakes at every turn, like
+Dorothy, who got out the best china and brewed her tea in the
+melon-shaped silver teapot.</p>
+<p>Phillis opened her eyes rather widely at this. Nan was not
+often so observant. It was true: self-consciousness was a torment
+to Archibald Drummond, a Frankenstein of his own
+creation, that had grown imperceptibly with his growth to the
+fell measure of his manhood, as inseparable as the shadow from
+the substance. Phillis had recognized it at once; but then, as
+she said, no one was faultless; and then, he was so handsome.
+&#8220;Very handsome&#8221; chimed in Dulce, whose opinions were full-fledged
+in such matters.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is he? Well, I never cared for a man with a long fair
+beard,&#8221; observed Nan, carelessly. Poor Archie! how his
+vanity would have suffered if he had heard her! for, in a masculine
+way, he prided himself excessively on the soft silky appendage
+that Grace had so often praised. A certain boyish countenance,
+with kindly honest eyes and a little sandy moustache,
+was more to Nan&#8217;s taste than the handsome young Anglican.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, we all know Nan&#8217;s opinion in such matters,&#8221; said Dulce,
+slyly; and then Nan blushed, and suddenly remembered that
+Dorothy was waiting for her in the linen-closet, and hurried
+away, leaving her sisters to discuss their visitors to their hearts&#8217;
+content.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XIX_ARCHIE_IS_IN_A_BAD_HUMOR' id='CHAPTER_XIX_ARCHIE_IS_IN_A_BAD_HUMOR'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2>
+<h3>ARCHIE IS IN A BAD HUMOR.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Archie, I was never more astonished in my life!&#8221;
+exclaimed Mattie, as she tried to adapt her uneven trot to her
+brother&#8217;s long swinging footsteps; and then she glanced up in
+his face to read his mood: but Archie&#8217;s features were inscrutable
+and presented an appalling blank. In his mind he was
+beginning his letter to Grace, and wondering what he should
+say to her about their new neighbors. &#8220;Writing is such a
+nuisance when one wants to talk to a person,&#8221; he thought,
+irritably.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Archie, won&#8217;t you tell me what we are to do?&#8221; went
+on Mattie, excitedly. She would not take Archie&#8217;s silence as a
+hint that he wanted to keep his thoughts to himself. &#8220;Those
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span>
+poor girls! oh, how nice and pretty they all are, especially the
+eldest! and is not the youngest&mdash;Dulce, I think they called her&mdash;the
+very image of Isabel?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Isabel! not a bit. That is so like you, Mattie. You always
+see likenesses when other people cannot trace the faintest resemblance,&#8221;
+for this remark was sure to draw out his opposition.
+Isabel was a silly flirting little thing in her brother&#8217;s estimation,
+and, he thought, could not hold a candle to the youngest Miss
+Challoner.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh dear! now I have made you cross!&#8221; sighed poor Mattie,
+who especially wanted to keep him in good humor. &#8220;And yet
+every one but you thinks Isabel so pretty. I am sure, from
+what Grace said in her last letter, that Mr. Ellis Burton means
+to propose to her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And I suppose you will all consider that a catch,&#8221; sneered
+Archie. &#8220;That is so like a parcel of women, thinking every
+man who comes to the house and makes a few smooth-tongued
+speeches&mdash;is, in fact, civil&mdash;must be after a girl. Of course you
+have all helped to instill this nonsense into the child&#8217;s head.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear me, how you talk, Archie!&#8221; returned Mattie, feeling
+herself snubbed as usual. Why, Archie had been quite excited
+about it only the other day, and had said quite seriously that
+with seven girls in a family, it would be a great blessing if
+Isabel could make such a match; for it was very unlikely that
+Laura and Susie, or even Clara, would do much for themselves
+in that way, unless they decidedly improved in looks.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, it is nothing to me,&#8221; he returned in a chilling manner;
+&#8220;we all know our own mind best. If an angular lantern-jawed
+fellow like Burton, who, by the bye, does not speak the best
+English, is to Isabel&#8217;s taste, let her have him by all means: he
+is well-to-do, and I dare say will keep a carriage for her by and
+by: that is what you women think a great advantage,&#8221; finished
+Archie, who certainly seemed bent on making himself disagreeable.</p>
+<p>Mattie heaved another great sigh, but she did not dare to contradict
+him. Grace would have punished him on the spot by a
+dose of satire that would have brought him to reason and good
+nature in a moment; but Mattie ventured only on those laborious
+sighs which she jerked up from the bottom of her honest
+little heart.</p>
+<p>Archie heard the sigh, and felt ashamed of his bad temper.
+He did not know himself why he felt so suddenly cross; some
+secret irritation was at work within him, and he could scarcely
+refrain from bidding Mattie quite roughly to hold her tongue and
+not tease him with her chatter. If she expected him in his present
+state of mind, which was at once contradictory and aggressive,
+to talk to her about the Challoners, she must just make
+up her mind to be disappointed, for he could not bring himself
+to speak of them to her just now: he wanted to hold counsel
+with his own thoughts and with Grace. He would call at the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span>
+Friary again and see Mrs. Challoner, and find out more of this
+strange matter; but as to talking it over with Mattie, he quite
+shrugged his shoulders as he swung open the green door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you going in?&#8221; faltered Mattie, as she noticed this
+movement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, yes; I have letters to write, and it is too hot for a
+longer walk,&#8221; he returned, decidedly; and then, as Mattie
+stood hesitating and wistful in the middle of the road, he strode
+off, leaving the door to close noisily after him, and not caring
+to inquire into her further movements, such being the occasional
+graceless manners of brothers when sisterly friendship is
+not to their liking.</p>
+<p>Mattie felt snubbed; but for the first time in her life, she did
+not take her snubbing meekly. It was too much to expect of her,
+who was only a woman and not one of Archie&#8217;s divinities, that
+she should follow him into the house and hold her tongue just
+because he was pleased to refrain from speaking. Water must
+find its vent; and Mattie&#8217;s tongue could not be silenced in this
+way. If Archie would not talk to her, Miss Middleton would:
+so at once she trotted off for Brooklyn, thereby incurring
+Archie&#8217;s wrath if he could only have known her purpose; for
+gossip was to him as the sin of witchcraft, unless he stooped to
+it himself, and then it was amiable sociability.</p>
+<p>Miss Middleton was listening to her father&#8217;s reading as usual,
+but she welcomed Mattie with open arms, literally as well as
+metaphorically, for she kissed Mattie on either cheek, and then
+scolded her tenderly for looking so flushed and tired; &#8220;for
+somebody who is always looking after other people, and never
+has time to spare for herself, is growing quite thin; is she not,
+father? and we must write to Grace if this goes on,&#8221; finished
+Miss Middleton, with one of her kind looks.</p>
+<p>All this was cordial to poor Mattie, who, though she was used
+to snubbing, and took as kindly to it as a spaniel to water, yet
+felt herself growing rather like a thread-paper and shabby with
+every-day worries and never an encouraging word to inspirit
+her.</p>
+<p>So she gave Elizabeth a misty little smile,&mdash;Mattie&#8217;s smile was
+pretty, though her features were ordinary,&mdash;and then sat up
+straight and began to enjoy herself,&mdash;that is, to talk,&mdash;never
+noticing that Colonel Middleton looked at his paper in a crestfallen
+manner, not much liking the interruption and the cessation
+of his own voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear!&#8221; began Mattie: she generally prefaced her remarks
+by an &#8220;Oh, dear!&#8221; (&#8220;That was one of her jerky ways,&#8221;
+as Archie said.) &#8220;I could not help coming straight to you, for
+Archie would not talk, and I felt I must tell somebody. Oh,
+dear, Miss Middleton! What do you think? We have just
+called at the Friary&mdash;and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; but here Colonel Middleton&#8217;s
+countenance relaxed, and he dropped his paper.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Those young ladies, eh? Come, Elizabeth, this is interesting.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span>
+Well, what sort of place is the Friary, seen from the inside,
+eh, Miss Drummond?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, it is very nice,&#8221; returned Mattie, enthusiastically.
+&#8220;We were shown into such a pretty room, looking out on the
+garden. They have so many nice things,&mdash;pictures, and old
+china, and handsomely-bound books, and all arranged so tastefully.
+And before we went away, the old servant&mdash;she seems
+really quite a superior person&mdash;brought in an elegant little tea-tray:
+the cups and saucers were handsomer even than yours,
+Miss Middleton,&mdash;dark-purple and gold. Just what I admire
+so&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, reduced in circumstances! I told you so, Elizabeth,&#8221;
+ejaculated the colonel.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never saw Archie enjoy himself so much or seem so
+thoroughly at home anywhere. Somehow, the girls put us so
+at our ease. Though they were hanging up curtains when we
+went in,&mdash;and any one else would have been annoyed at our intruding
+so soon,&mdash;actually, before we were in the room a
+moment, Archie was on the steps, helping the eldest Miss Challoner
+fasten the hooks.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Miss Middleton exchanged an amused look with her father.
+Mattie&#8217;s narrative was decidedly interesting.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, don&#8217;t tell him I repeated that, for he is always calling
+me chatterbox!&#8221; implored Mattie, who feared she had been indiscreet,
+and that the colonel was not to be trusted, which was
+quite true as far as jokes were concerned. No one understood
+the art of teasing better than he, and the young vicar had already
+had a taste of his kindly satire. &#8220;Archie only meant to
+be good-natured and put every one at their ease.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Quite right. Mr. Drummond is always kind,&#8221; returned
+Elizabeth, benignly. She had forgotten Mattie&#8217;s frequent scoldings,
+and the poor little thing&#8217;s tired face, or she would never
+have hazarded such a compromise with truth. But somehow
+Elizabeth always forgot people&#8217;s weaknesses, especially when
+they were absent. It was so nice and easy to praise people; and
+if she always believed what she said, that was because her faith
+was so strong, and charity that is love was her second nature.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, of course,&#8221; returned Mattie, innocently. She was
+far too loyal a little soul to doubt Archie&#8217;s kindness for a moment.
+Was he not the pride and ornament of the family,&mdash;the
+domestic pope who issued his bulls without possibility of contradiction?
+Whatever Archie did must be right. Was not
+that their domestic creed?&mdash;a little slavish, perhaps, but still so
+exquisitely feminine. Mattie was of opinion that&mdash;well, to use
+a mild term&mdash;irritability was a necessary adjunct of manhood.
+All men were cross sometimes. It behooved their womankind,
+then, to throw oil on the troubled waters,&mdash;to speak peaceably,
+and to refrain from sour looks, or even the shadow of a frown.
+Archie was never cross with Grace: therefore it must be she,
+Mattie, on whom the blame lay; she was such a silly little thing,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span>
+And so on. There is no need to follow the self-accusation of
+one of the kindest hearts that ever beat.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did not your visit end as pleasantly as it began?&#8221; asked
+Elizabeth, who, though she was over-merciful in her judgments,
+was not without a good deal of sagacity and shrewdness. Something
+lay beyond the margin of Mattie&#8217;s words, she could see
+that plainly; and then her father was getting impatient.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, you see, that spoiled everything,&#8221; returned Mattie,
+jumbling her narrative in the oddest manner. &#8220;Archie was
+so sorry, and so was I; and he got quite&mdash;you know his way
+when he feels uncomfortable. I thought Miss Challoner was
+joking at first,&mdash;that it was just a bit of make-believe fun,&mdash;until
+I saw how grave Miss Phillis, that is the second one,
+looked: and then the little one&mdash;at least, she is not little, but
+somehow one fancies she is&mdash;seemed as though she were going
+to cry.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But what did Miss Challoner say to distress you and Mr.
+Drummond so?&#8221; asked Elizabeth, trying patiently to elicit facts
+and not vague statements from Mattie.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, she said&mdash;no, please don&#8217;t think I am exaggerating, for
+it is all true&mdash;that they had lost their money, and were very
+poor, and, that she and her sisters were dressmakers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dressmakers!&#8221; shouted the colonel, and his ruddy face
+grew almost purple with the shock: his very moustache seemed
+to bristle. &#8220;Dressmakers! my dear Miss Drummond, I don&#8217;t
+believe a word of it! Those girls! It is a hoax!&mdash;a bit of nonsense
+from beginning to end!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hush, father! you are putting Mattie out,&#8221; returned Elizabeth,
+mildly. It was one of her idiosyncrasies to call people as
+soon as possible by their Christian names, though no one but
+her father and brother ever called her Elizabeth. Perhaps her
+gray hair, and a certain soft dignity that belonged to her, forbade
+such freedom. &#8220;Dear father, we must let Mattie speak.&#8221;
+But even Elizabeth let her work lie unheeded in her lap in the
+engrossing interest of the subject.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not mean they have been dressmakers all this time,
+but this is their plan for the future. Miss Challoner said they
+were not clever enough for governesses, and that they did not
+want to separate. But that is what they mean to do,&mdash;to make
+dresses for people who are not half so good as themselves.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Preposterous! absurd!&#8221; groaned the colonel. &#8220;Where
+is their mother? What can the old lady be thinking about?&#8221;
+Mrs. Challoner was not an old lady by any means; but then
+the choleric colonel had never seen her, or he would not have
+applied that term to the aristocratic-looking gentlewoman whom
+Mattie had admired in Miss Milner&#8217;s shop.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I had a good look round the room afterwards,&#8221; went on
+Mattie, letting this pass. &#8220;They had got a great carved wardrobe,&mdash;I
+thought that funny in a sitting-room; but of course
+it was for the dresses,&#8221;&mdash;another groan from the colonel,&mdash;&#8220;and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span>
+there was a sewing-machine, and a rosewood davenport for
+accounts, and a chiffonnier of course for the pieces. Oh, they
+mean business; and I should not be surprised if they understand
+their work well,&#8221; went on Mattie, warming up to her subject
+and thinking of the breadths of green silk that reposed so snugly
+between silver paper in her drawers at the vicarage,&mdash;the first
+silk dress she had ever owned, for the Drummond finances did
+not allow of such luxuries,&mdash;the new color, too; such a soft,
+invisible, shadowy green, like an autumn leaf shrivelled by the
+sun&#8217;s richness. &#8220;Oh, if they should spoil it!&#8221; thought Mattie,
+with a sigh, as the magnitude of her intended sacrifice weighed
+heavily upon her mind.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is sheer girlish nonsense,&mdash;I might say foolery; and the
+mother must be a perfect idiot!&#8221; began the colonel, angrily.</p>
+<p>He was an excitable man; and his wrath at the intelligence
+was really very great. He had taken a fancy to the new-comers,
+and was prepared to welcome them heartily in his genial way;
+but now his old-fashioned prejudices were grievously wounded.
+It was against his nice code of honor that women should do anything
+out of the usual beaten groove: innovations that would
+make them conspicuous were heinous sins in his eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come, Mattie, you and I will have a chat about this by ourselves,&#8221;
+observed Elizabeth, cheerfully, as she noticed her father&#8217;s
+vexation. He would soon cool down if left to himself: she
+knew that well. &#8220;Suppose we go down to Miss Milner, and
+hear what she has to say: you may depend upon it that it was
+this that made her so reserved with us the other day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, do you think so?&#8221; exclaimed Mattie; but she was
+charmed at the idea of fresh gossip. And then they set off
+together.</p>
+<p>Miss Milner seemed a little surprised to see them so soon, for
+Mattie had already paid her a visit that day; but at Miss
+Middleton&#8217;s first words a look of annoyance passed over her
+good-natured face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear, dear! to think of that leaking out already,&#8221; she said,
+in a vexed voice; &#8220;and I have not spoken to a soul, because the
+young ladies asked me to keep their secret a few days longer.
+&#8216;You must give us till next Monday,&#8217; one of them said this very
+morning: &#8216;by that time we shall be in order, and then we can
+set to work.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was Miss Challoner who told me herself,&#8221; observed
+Mattie, in a deprecating manner. &#8220;My brother and I called
+this afternoon: you see, being the clergyman, and such close
+neighbors, he thought we might be of some use to the poor
+things.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor things indeed!&#8221; ejaculated Miss Milner. &#8220;I cannot
+tell you how bad I felt,&#8221; she went on, her little gray curls bobbing
+over her high cheek-bones with every word, &#8220;when that
+dear young lady put down her head there&#8221;&mdash;pointing to a spot
+about as big as a half-crown on the wooden counter&mdash;&#8220;and cried
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span>
+like a baby. &#8216;Oh, how silly I am!&#8217; she said, sobbing-like; &#8216;and
+what would my sisters say to me? But you are so kind, Miss
+Milner; and it does seem all so strange and horrid.&#8217; I made up
+my mind, then and there,&#8221; finished the good woman, solemnly,
+&#8220;that I would help them to the best of my powers. I have got
+their bits of advertisements to put about the shop; and there&#8217;s
+my new black silk dress, that has laid by since Christmas, because
+I knew Miss Slasher would spoil it; not but what they
+may ruin it finely for me; but I mean to shut my eyes and take
+the risk,&#8221; with a little smile of satisfaction over her own
+magnanimity.</p>
+<p>Elizabeth stretched out her hand across the counter.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Milner, you are a good creature,&#8221; she said, softly.
+&#8220;I honor you for this. If people always helped each other
+and thought so little of a sacrifice, the world would be a happier
+place.&#8221; And then, without waiting for a reply from the
+gratified shopwoman, she went out of the library with a thoughtful
+brow.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Milner has read me a lesson,&#8221; she said, by and by,
+when Mattie had marvelled at her silence a little. &#8220;Conventionality
+makes cowards of the best of us. I am not particularly
+worldly-minded,&#8221; she went on, with a faint smile, &#8220;but
+all the same I must plead guilty to feeling a little shocked myself
+at your news; but when I have thought a little more about
+it, I dare say I shall see things by a truer light, and be as ready
+to admire these girls as I am now to wonder at them.&#8221; And
+after this she bade Mattie a kindly good-bye.</p>
+<p>Meanwhile, Phillis was bracing herself to undergo another
+ordeal. Mr. Drummond and his sister had only just left the
+cottage when a footman from the White House brought a note
+for her. It was from Mrs. Cheyne, and was worded in a most
+friendly manner.</p>
+<p>She thanked the sisters gracefully for their timely help on the
+previous evening, and, though making light of her accident,
+owned that it would keep her a prisoner to her sofa for a few
+days; and then she begged them to waive ceremony and come
+to her for an hour or two that evening.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will not ask you to dinner, because that will perhaps inconvenience
+you, as you must be tired or busy,&#8221; she wrote;
+&#8220;but if one or both of you would just put on your hats and
+walk up in the cool of the evening to keep Miss Mewlstone and
+myself company, it would be a real boon to us both.&#8221; And then
+she signed herself &#8220;Magdalene Cheyne.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis wore a perplexed look on her face as she took the note
+to Nan, who was still in the linen-closet.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very kind; very friendly,&#8221; commented Nan, when she had
+finished reading it; &#8220;but I could not possibly go, Phil. As soon
+as I have done this I have promised to sit with mother. She
+has been alone all day. You could easily send an excuse, for
+Mrs. Cheyne must know we are busy.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t feel as though an excuse will help us here,&#8221; returned
+Phillis, slowly. &#8220;When an unpleasant thing has to be done, it
+is as well to get it over: thinking about it only hinders one&#8217;s
+sleep.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But you will surely not go alone!&#8221; demanded Nan, in
+astonishment. &#8220;You are so tired, Phil: you have been working
+hard all day. Give it up, dear, and sit and rest in the garden
+a little.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no,&#8221; returned Phillis, disconsolately. &#8220;I value my
+night&#8217;s rest too much to imperil it so lightly: besides, I owe it
+to myself for a penance for being such a coward this afternoon.&#8221;
+And then, without waiting for any further dissuasion, she carried
+off the letter and wrote a very civil but vague reply, promising
+to walk up in the evening and inquire after the invalid; and
+then she dismissed the messenger, and went up to her room
+with a heavy heart.</p>
+<p>Dulce came to help her, like a dutiful sister, and chattered on
+without intermission.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose you will put on your best dress?&#8221; she asked, as
+she dived down into the recesses of a big box.</p>
+<p>Phillis, who was sitting wearily on the edge of her bed,
+roused up at this:</p>
+<p>&#8220;My best blue silk and cashmere, that we wore last at Fitzroy
+Lodge? Dulce, how can you be so absurd! Anything will do,&mdash;the
+gray stuff, or the old foulard. No, stop; I forgot: the
+gray dress is better made and newer in cut. We must think of
+that. Oh, what a worry it is going out when one is tired to
+death!&#8221; she continued, with unusual irritation.</p>
+<p>Dulce respected her sister&#8217;s mood, and held her peace, though
+she knew the gray dress was the least becoming to Phillis, who
+was pale, and wanted a little color to give her brightness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, now, you look quite nice,&#8221; she said, in a patronizing
+voice, as Phillis put on her hat and took her gloves. Phillis
+nodded her thanks rather sadly, and then bethought herself and
+came back and kissed her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, dear Dulce; I am not nearly so tired now; but
+it is getting late, and I must run off.&#8221; And so she did until she
+had turned the corner, and then, in spite of herself, her steps
+became slower and more lagging.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span></p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XX_YOU_ARE_ROMANTIC' id='CHAPTER_XX_YOU_ARE_ROMANTIC'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;YOU ARE ROMANTIC.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Human nature is prone to argument; a person will often in
+the course of a few moments bring himself or herself to the bar
+of conscience, and accuse, excuse, and sum up the case in the
+twinkling of an eye.</p>
+<p>On arriving at the lodge-gates Phillis began to take herself to
+task. Conscience, that &#8220;makes cowards of us all,&#8221; began its
+small inner remonstrance; then followed self-flagellation and
+much belaboring of herself with many remorseful terms. She
+was a pitiful thing compared to Nan; she was conventional;
+there were no limits to her pride. Where were that freedom
+and nobility of soul which she once fancied would sweep over
+worldly prejudices, and carry her into purer air? She was still
+choking in the fogs of mere earthly exhalations; no wonder Nan
+was a little disappointed in her, though she was far too kind to
+say so. Well, she was disappointed in herself.</p>
+<p>By this time she had reached the hall door; and now she
+began to hold up her head more boldly, and to look about her;
+when a very solemn-looking butler confronted her, she said to
+herself, &#8220;It will be all the same a hundred years hence, and I
+am determined this time not to be beaten;&#8221; and then she
+asked for Mrs. Cheyne with something of her old sprightliness,
+and nothing could exceed the graceful ease of her entrance.</p>
+<p>All the Challoners walked well. There was a purity of health
+about them that made them delight in movement and every
+bodily exercise,&mdash;an elasticity of gait that somehow attracted
+attention.</p>
+<p>No girls danced better than they. And when they had the
+chance, which was seldom, they could ride splendidly. Their
+skating was a joy to see, and made one wish that the ice would
+last forever, that one could watch such light, skimming practice;
+and as for tennis, no other girl had a chance of being chosen for
+a partner unless the Challoners good-naturedly held aloof, which
+ten times out of twelve they were sure to do.</p>
+<p>Phillis, who, from her pale complexion, was supposed to
+possess the least vitality, delighted in exercise for its own sake.
+&#8220;It is a pleasure only to be alive and to know it,&#8221; was a favorite
+speech with her on summer mornings, when the shadows were
+blowing lightly hither and thither, and the birds had so much
+to say that it took them until evening to finish saying it.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne, who was lying on her couch, watched with
+admiring eyes the girl&#8217;s straightforward walk, so alert and
+business-like, so free from fuss and consciousness, and held out
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span>
+her hand with a more cordial welcome than she was accustomed
+to show her visitors.</p>
+<p>It was a long room; and as the summer dusk was falling, and
+there was only a shaded lamp beside Mrs. Cheyne, it was full
+of dim corners. Nevertheless, Phillis piloted herself without
+hesitation to the illuminated circle.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is good of you, Miss Challoner, to take me at my word.
+But where is your sister? I wanted to look at her again, for it
+is long since I have seen any one so pretty. Miss Mewlstone,
+this is the good Samaritan who bound up my foot so cleverly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, just so,&#8221; returned Miss Mewlstone. And a soft, plump
+hand touched Phillis&#8217;s, and then she went on picking up stitches
+and taking no further notice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nan could not come,&#8221; observed Phillis. &#8220;She had to run
+down to Beach House to report progress to mother. We hope
+she is coming home to-morrow. But, as you were so kind as to
+write, I thought I would just call and inquire about your foot.
+And then it would be easier to explain things than to write
+about it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh! so your mother is coming home!&#8221; returned Mrs.
+Cheyne, with so much interest in her voice that Miss Mewlstone
+left off counting to look at her. (&#8220;Just so, just so,&#8221; Phillis
+heard her mutter.) &#8220;You must have worked hard to get ready
+for her so soon. When my foot will allow me to cross a room
+without hobbling, I will do myself the pleasure of calling on her.
+But that will be neither this week nor the next, I am afraid.
+But I shall see a good deal of you and your sister before then,&#8221;
+she concluded, with the graciousness of one who knows she is
+conferring an unusual honor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not know,&#8221; faltered Phillis. And then she sat upright,
+and looked her hostess full in the face. &#8220;That will be for you
+to decide when you hear what I have to say. But I fear&#8221;&mdash;with
+a very poor attempt at a smile&mdash;&#8220;that we shall see very
+little of each other in the future.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, there is a mystery, is there?&#8221; returned Mrs. Cheyne,
+with a little scorn in her manner; and her mouth took one of
+the downward curves that Mr. Drummond so thoroughly disliked.
+She had taken an odd fancy to these girls, especially to
+Phillis, and had thought about them a good deal during a
+sleepless, uneasy night. Their simplicity, their straightforward
+unconsciousness, had attracted her in spite of her cynicism.
+But at the first suspicion of mystery she withdrew into herself
+rather haughtily. &#8220;Do speak out, I beg, Miss Challoner; for if
+there be one thing that makes me impatient, it is to have anything
+implied.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am quite of your opinion,&#8221; replied Phillis, with equal
+haughtiness, only it sat more strangely on her girlishness.
+&#8220;That is why I am here to-night,&mdash;just to inquire after your foot
+and explain things.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well?&#8221; still more impatiently, for this woman was a spoiled
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span>
+child, and hated to be thwarted, and was undisciplined and imperious
+enough to ruin all her own chances of happiness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I told you that we were very poor,&#8221; went on Phillis, in a
+sweet and steady voice; &#8220;but that did not seem to impress you
+much, and I thought how noble that was,&#8221;&mdash;catching her breath
+an instant; &#8220;but it will make a difference and shock you dreadfully,
+as it did Mr. Drummond, when I tell you we are dressmakers,&mdash;Nan
+and Dulce and I: at least that will be our future
+occupation.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, just so!&#8221; ejaculated Miss Mewlstone; but she said it
+with her lips far apart, and a mistiness came into her sleepy
+blue eyes. Perhaps, though she was stout and middle-aged and
+breathed a little too heavily at times, she remembered&mdash;long
+ago when she was young and poor and had to wage a bitter war
+with the world&mdash;when she ate the dry bread and drank the
+bitter water of dependence and felt herself ill nourished by such
+unpalatable sustenance. &#8220;Oh, just so, poor thing!&#8221; And a
+little round tear dripped on to the ball of scarlet fleecy wool.</p>
+<p>But Mrs. Cheyne listened to the announcement in far different
+mood. There was an incredulous stare at Phillis, as though
+she suspected her of a joke; and then she laughed, a dry, harsh
+laugh, that was not quite pleasant to hear.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, this is droll, passing droll!&#8221; she said, and leaned back
+on her cushions, and drew her Indian cashmere round her and
+frowned a little.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am glad you find it so,&#8221; returned Phillis, who was nonplussed
+at this, and did not know what to say, and was a little
+angry in consequence; and then she got up from her chair with
+a demonstration of spirit. &#8220;I am glad you find it so; but to
+us it is sad earnestness!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What! are you going?&#8221; asked Mrs. Cheyne, with a keen
+glance through her half-shut eyes at poor Phillis standing so
+tall and straight before her. &#8220;And you have not told me the
+reason for taking so strange a step!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The reason lies in our poverty and paucity of resources,&#8221;
+was Phillis&#8217;s curt reply.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is not to make a sensation, then? no, I did not mean that,&#8221;
+as Phillis shot an indignant glance at her,&mdash;&#8220;not exactly; but
+there is no knowing what the emancipated girl will do. Of
+course I have no right to question, who was a stranger to you
+four-and-twenty hours ago, and had never heard the name of
+Challoner, except that it was a good and an old name; but when
+one sees young things like you about to forfeit caste and build
+up a barrier between yourselves and your equals that the bravest
+will fear to pass, it seems as though one must lift up one&#8217;s
+voice in protest.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you; but it will be of no use,&#8221; returned Phillis,
+coldly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are determined to make other people&#8217;s dresses?&#8221; And
+here her lip curled a little, perhaps involuntarily.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;We must must make dresses or starve; for our fingers are
+cleverer than our brains,&#8221; replied Phillis, defiantly; for she
+knew nothing about it, and her powers were so immature and
+unfledged that she had never tried her wings, and had no notion
+whether she could fly or not, and yet no girl had a clearer head.
+&#8220;We have chosen work that we know we can do well, and we
+mean not to be ashamed of our occupation. In the old days
+ladies used to spin and weave, and no one blamed them, though
+they were noble; and if my work will bring me money, and
+keep the mother comfortable, I see nothing that will prevent
+my doing it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, you are romantic, Miss Challoner; you will soon be
+taught matter-of-fact!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am willing to learn anything, but I must choose my teachers,&#8221;
+retorted Phillis, with a little heat, for the word &#8220;romantic,&#8221;
+and the satirical droop of Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s lip made her decidedly
+cross. &#8220;But I must not detain you any more with our uninteresting
+affairs,&#8221; dropping a little courtesy, half in pique and half
+in mockery, for her spirits were rising under this rough treatment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is far from uninteresting; I have not heard anything so
+exciting for a long time. Well, perhaps you had better go before
+I say anything very rude, for I am terribly outspoken, and
+I think you are all silly self-willed young people.&#8221; Then, as
+Phillis bridled her neck like an untamed colt, she caught hold
+of the girl&#8217;s dress to detain her, and the sharpness passed out
+of her eyes. &#8220;Now, don&#8217;t go away and believe that I think
+any worse of you for telling me this. I am a cross-grained
+body, and contradiction makes me worse. I don&#8217;t know how I
+shall act: I must have time to consider this extraordinary bit
+of news. But all the same, whatever I do, whether I know you
+or do not know you, I shall always think you the very bravest
+girl I ever saw.&#8221; And then she let her go, and Phillis, with her
+head in the air and her thoughts all topsy-turvy, marched out
+of the room.</p>
+<p>But when she reached the end of the corridor there was a
+soft but distinctly audible breathing behind her, and, as in Mr.
+Drummond&#8217;s case Miss Mewlstone&#8217;s shadowy gray gown swept
+between her and the door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Mewlstone, how you startled me! but the carpets are
+so soft and thick!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed! just so, my dear; but Phillips must be asleep
+as he does not answer the bell, and so I thought I would let you
+out. You are young to walk alone: shall I throw a shawl over
+my cap, and walk down the road with you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not for worlds, my dear Miss Mewlstone;&#8221; but Phillis was
+quite touched at this unexpected kindness. Miss Mewlstone did
+not look sleepy now; her small blue eyes were wide open, and
+her round placid face wore a most kindly expression, and there
+was a tremulous movement of her hands, as though they
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span>
+were feeling after something. &#8220;It is only such a little bit of
+road; and though the trees make it dark, I am not the least
+afraid of going alone.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah! just so. When we are young, we are brave; it is the
+old who are afraid of the grasshopper. I like your spirit, my
+dear; and so does she, though she is a little taken aback and
+disappointed; but anything that interests and rouses her is
+welcome. Even this may do her good; for it will give her
+something to think about besides her own troubles.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have heard of her troubles&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; began Phillis; but a
+moving door arrested Miss Mewlstone&#8217;s attention, and she interrupted
+her hurriedly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah! there is Phillips at last. Just so; you shall hear from
+me again. It is a gray satin,&mdash;one of her presents,&mdash;but I
+have never had it made up; for what is the use, when we keep
+no company?&#8221; went on Miss Mewlstone incoherently. &#8220;Oh!
+is that you, Phillips? Please go with this young lady to the
+lodge-gate.&mdash;You shall make it after your own fashion,&#8221; she
+whispered in Phillis&#8217;s ear; &#8220;and I am not as particular as other
+people. There is Magdalene now. Ah! just so. Good-night,
+my dear; and mind the scraper by the gate.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis was almost sorry when the obsequious Phillips left her;
+for the road certainly looked terribly dark. There was no
+moon, and the stars chose to be invisible; and there was a hot
+thundery feeling in the air that suggested a storm. And she
+moved aside with a slight sensation of uneasiness&mdash;not fear, of
+course not fear&mdash;as a tall, gloomy-looking figure bore swiftly
+down on her; for, even if a girl be ever so brave, a very tall
+man walking fast on a dark night with a slouching hat like a
+conspirator&#8217;s is rather a terrifying object; and how could she
+know that it was only Archie Drummond in his old garden-hat,
+taking a constitutional?</p>
+<p>But he brought himself up in front of her with a sudden jerk.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Challoner!&mdash;alone at this time of night!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, it is not ten; and I could not wait for Dorothy to
+fetch me,&#8221; returned Phillis, bound to defend herself, and quite
+palpitating with relief; not that she was afraid&mdash;not a bit of it!&mdash;but
+still, Mr. Drummond&#8217;s presence was very welcome.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose I shall do as well as Dorothy?&#8221; he returned veering
+round with the greatest ease, just as though he were Dick,
+and bound to escort a Challoner. &#8220;Challoners&#8217; Squire,&#8221;&mdash;that
+was Dick&#8217;s name among people.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh poor Dick!&#8221; thought Phillis, with a sudden rush of tenderness
+for her old playmate; and then she said, demurely
+but with a spice of malice,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, Mr. Drummond. The road is so gloomy that I
+shall be glad of your escort this evening, but we shall have to
+do without that sort of thing now, for our business may often
+bring us out after dark, and we must learn not to be too particular.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, this must not be!&#8221; he returned, decidedly; and, though
+it was too dark to see his face, she knew by his voice that he
+was dreadfully shocked. &#8220;I must see your mother and talk to
+her about this; for it would never do for you to run such risks.
+I could not allow it for a moment; and as your clergyman&#8221;&mdash;coming
+down from his high horse, and stammering a little,&mdash;&#8220;I
+have surely&mdash;surely a right&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; But Phillis snapped him up in
+a moment, and pretty sharply too, for she had no notion of a
+young man giving himself airs and torturing her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no right at all!&#8221; she assured him: &#8220;clergymen could
+only rebuke evil-doers, to which class she and her sisters did not
+belong, thank heaven!&#8221; to which Mr. Drummond devoutly said
+an &#8220;amen.&#8221; &#8220;And would he please tell her if dressmakers
+were always met two and two, like the animals in the ark? and
+how would it sound when she or Nan had been fitting on a
+dress, on a winter&#8217;s evening, if they were to refuse to leave the
+house until Dorothy fetched them? and how&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; But here Mr.
+Drummond checked her, and the darkness hid his smile.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now you are beyond me, Miss Challoner. In a matter of
+detail, a man, even a parson, is often at fault. Is there no other
+way of managing this odious business? Forgive me; the word
+slipped out by accident! Could you not do the fitting, or whatever
+you call it, by daylight, and stay at home quietly in the
+evening like other young ladies?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course not,&#8221; returned Phillis, promptly. She had not
+the least idea why it could not be done; indeed, if she had
+been perfectly cool&mdash;which she was not, for Mrs. Cheyne had
+decidedly stroked her the wrong way and ruffled her past endurance&mdash;she
+would have appreciated the temperate counsel vouchsafed
+her, and acquiesced in it without a murmur; but now she
+seemed bent on contradiction.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Our opinions seem to clash to-night,&#8221; returned Mr. Drummond,
+good-humoredly, but feeling that the young lady beside
+him had decidedly a will of her own. &#8220;She is very nice, but
+she is not as gentle as her sister,&#8221; he said to himself; which was
+hard on Phillis, who, though she was not meek, being a girl of
+spirit, was wholesomely sweet and sound to the heart&#8217;s core.</p>
+<p>&#8220;One may be supposed to know one&#8217;s business best,&#8221; she
+replied rather dryly to this. And then, fearing that she might
+seem ungracious to a stranger, who did not know her and her
+little ways, she went on in a more cordial tone: &#8220;I am afraid
+you think me a little cross to-night; but I have been having a
+stand-up fight, and am rather tired. Trying to battle against
+other people&#8217;s prejudices makes one irritable. And then, because
+I am down and out of heart about things, our clergyman
+thinks fit to lecture me on propriety.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Only for your good. You must forgive me if I have taken
+too much upon myself,&#8221; returned Mr. Drummond, with much
+compunction. &#8220;You seem so lonely,&mdash;no father or brother; at
+least&mdash;pardon me&mdash;I believe you have no brother?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no; we have no brother,&#8221; sighed Phillis. Their
+acquaintance was in too early a stage to warrant her in bringing
+in Dick&#8217;s name. Besides, that sort of heterogeneous relationship
+is so easily misconstrued. And then she added, &#8220;I see.
+You meant to be very kind, and I was very ungrateful.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I only wish I could find some way of helping you all,&#8221; was
+his reply to this. But it was said with such frank kindness that
+Phillis&#8217;s brief haughtiness vanished. They were standing at the
+gate of the Friary by this time; but Mr. Drummond still lingered.
+It was Phillis who dismissed him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good-night, and many thanks,&#8221; she said, brightly. &#8220;It is
+too late to ask you in, for you see, even dressmakers have their
+notions of propriety.&#8221; And as she uttered this malicious little
+speech, the young man broke into a laugh that was heard by
+Dorothy in her little kitchen.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that is too bad of you, Miss Challoner,&#8221; he said, as soon
+as he recovered himself; but, nevertheless, he liked the girl
+better for her little joke.</p>
+<p>Mr. Drummond&#8217;s constitutional had lasted so long that Mattie
+grew quite frightened, and came down in her drab dressing-gown
+to wait for him. It was not a becoming costume, but it was
+warm and comfortable; but then Mattie never considered what
+became her. If any one had admired her, or cared how she
+looked or what she wore, or had taken an interest in her for her
+own sake, she would doubtless have developed an honest liking
+for pretty things. But what did it matter under the present
+circumstances? Mr. Drummond was lighting his chamber
+candle when Mattie rushed out on him,&mdash;a grotesque little figure,
+all capes and frills.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Archie, how you frightened me! Where have you
+been?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Archie shrugged his shoulders at this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am not aware, Matilda,&#8221;&mdash;for in severe moods he would
+call her by her full name, a thing she especially disliked from
+him,&mdash;&#8220;I did not know before that I was accountable to you
+for my actions. Neither am I particularly obliged to you for
+spying upon me in this way.&#8221; For the sight of Mattie at this
+time of night was peculiarly distasteful. Why was he to be
+watched in his own house?</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear, Archie! How can you say such things? Spy on
+you, indeed! when there is a storm coming up, and I was so
+anxious.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am very much obliged to you,&#8221; returned Archie, ironically;
+&#8220;but, as you see I am safe, don&#8217;t you think you had better
+take off that thing&#8221;&mdash;pointing to the obnoxious garment&mdash;&#8220;and
+go to bed?&#8221; And such was his tone that poor Mattie fled without
+a word, and cried a little in her dark room, because Archie
+would not be kind to her and let her love him, but was always
+finding fault with one trifle or other. To-night it was her poor
+old dressing-gown, which had been her mother&#8217;s, and had been
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span>
+considered good enough for Mattie. And then he had called her a
+spy. And here she gave a sob that caught Archie&#8217;s ears as he
+passed her door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good-night, you little goose!&#8221; he called out, for the sound
+made him uncomfortable; and though the words were contemptuous,
+the voice was not, and Mattie at once dried her eyes and
+was comforted.</p>
+<p>But before Archie went to sleep that night he made up his
+mind that it was his duty as a clergyman and a Christian to
+look over Phillis&#8217;s wilfulness, and to befriend to the utmost of
+his power the strangers, widow and fatherless, that Providence
+had placed at his very gates.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They are so very lonely, poor things!&#8221; he said to himself;
+&#8220;not a man about them. By the bye, I noticed she did not
+wear an engagement-ring.&#8221; But which was the &#8220;she&#8221; he
+meant, was an enigma known only to himself. &#8220;Not a man about
+them!&#8221; he repeated, in a satisfied manner, for as yet the name
+of Dick had not sounded in his ear.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXI_BREAKING_THE_PEACE' id='CHAPTER_XXI_BREAKING_THE_PEACE'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2>
+<h3>BREAKING THE PEACE.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Nan went to Beach House to fetch her mother home, escorted
+by Laddie, who was growing a most rollicking and friendly
+little animal, and a great consolation to his mistress, whom he
+loved with all his doggish heart.</p>
+<p>They all three came back in an old fly belonging to their late
+host, and found Phillis waiting for them on the door-step, who
+made her mother the following little speech:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, mammie, you are to kiss us, and tell us what good industrious
+girls we have been; and then you are to shut your
+eyes and look at nothing, and then sit down in your old arm-chair,
+and try and make the best of everything.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Welcome home, dearest mother,&#8221; said Nan, softly kissing
+her. &#8220;Home is home, however poor it may be; and thank
+God for it,&#8221; finished the girl, reverently.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my darlings!&#8221; exclaimed the poor mother; and then
+she cried a little, and Dulce came up and put a rose-bud in her
+hand; and Dorothy executed an old-fashioned courtsey, and
+hoped that her mistress and the dear young ladies would try
+and make themselves as happy as possible.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Happy, you silly old Dorothy! of course we mean to be as
+busy as bees, and as frolicsome as kittens!&#8221; returned Phillis,
+who had recovered her old sprightliness, and was ready to-day for
+a dozen Mrs. Cheynes and all the clergy of the diocese. &#8220;Now,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span>
+mammie, you are only to peep into this room: this is our work-room,
+and those are the curtains Mr. Drummond was kind
+enough to hang. In old days,&#8221; continued Phillis, with mock
+solemnity, &#8220;the parson would have pronounced a benediction;
+but the modern Anglican performs another function, and with
+much gravity ascends the steps, and hooks up the curtains of
+the new-comers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Phillis, how can you be so absurd! I am sure it was
+very good-natured of him. Come, mother, dear, we will not
+stand here listening to her nonsense.&#8221; And Nan drew the
+mother to the parlor.</p>
+<p>It was a very small room, but still snug and comfortable, and
+full of pretty things. Tea was laid on the little round table
+that would hardly hold five, as Nan once observed, thinking of
+Dick; and the evening&#8217;s sunshine was stealing in, but not too
+obtrusively. Mrs. Challoner tried not to think it dull, and
+endeavored to say a word of praise at the arrangements Dulce
+pointed out to her; but the thought of Glen Cottage, and her
+pretty drawing-room, and the veranda with its climbing roses,
+and the shady lawn with the seat under the acacia-trees, almost
+overpowered her. That they should come to this! That they
+should be sitting in this mean little parlor, where there was
+hardly room to move, looking out at the little strip of grass, and
+the medlar-tree, and the empty greenhouse! Nan saw her
+mother&#8217;s lip quiver, and adroitly turned the subject to their
+neighbors. She had so much to say about Mr. Drummond and
+his sister that Mrs. Challoner grew quite interested; nevertheless,
+it was a surprise even to Nan when Dorothy presently
+opened the door, and Mr. Drummond coolly walked in with a
+magnificent basket of roses in his hand.</p>
+<p>Nan gravely introduced him to her mother, and the young
+man accosted her; but there was a little surprise on his face.
+He had taken it into his head that Mrs. Challoner would be a
+far older-looking and more homely person; but the stately-looking
+woman before him might have been an older and faded
+edition of Nan. Somehow, her appearance confused him; and
+he commenced with an apology for his intrusion:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I ought not to have been so unceremonious. I am afraid,
+as you have just arrived, my visit will seem an intrusion; but
+my sister thought you would like some of our roses,&#8221;&mdash;he had
+obliged poor Mattie to say so,&mdash;&#8220;and, as we had cut some fine
+ones, we thought you ought to have them while they are
+fresh.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you; this is very kind and neighborly,&#8221; returned
+Mrs. Challoner; but, though her tone was perfectly civil, Nan
+thought her manner a little cold, and hastened to interpose with
+a few glowing words of admiration.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The roses were lovely; they were finer than those at
+Longmead, or even at Fitzroy Lodge, though Lady Fitzroy
+prided herself on her roses.&#8221; Archie pricked up his ears at this
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span>
+latter name, which escaped quite involuntarily from Nan. &#8220;And
+was it not good of Miss Drummond to spare them so many, and of
+Mr. Drummond to carry them?&#8221; all of which Nan said with a
+sweet graciousness that healed the young man&#8217;s embarrassment
+in a moment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed!&#8221; echoed Mrs. Challoner, obedient, as usual,
+to her daughter&#8217;s lead. &#8220;And you must thank your sister,
+Mr. Drummond, and tell her how fond my girls are of flowers.&#8221;
+But, though Mrs. Challoner said this, the roses were not without
+thorns for her. Why had not Miss Drummond brought them
+herself? She was pleased indeed that, under existing circumstances,
+any one should be civil to her girls; but was there not
+a little patronage intended? She was not quite sure that she
+rejoiced in having such neighbors. Mr. Drummond was nice
+and gentlemanly, but he was far too young and handsome for
+an unmarried clergyman; at least, that was her old-fashioned
+opinion; and when one has three very good-looking daughters,
+and dreads the idea of losing one, one may be pardoned for
+distrusting even a basket of roses.</p>
+<p>If Mr. Drummond perceived her slight coldness, he seemed
+quite determined to overcome it. He took small notice of Nan,
+who busied herself at once arranging the flowers under his eyes;
+even Phillis, who looked good and demure this evening, failed
+to obtain a word. He talked almost exclusively to Mrs.
+Challoner, plying her with artful questions about their old home,
+which he now learned was at Oldfield, and gaining scraps of
+information that enabled him to obtain a pretty clear insight
+into their present circumstances.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner, who was a soft hearted woman, was not proof
+against so much sympathy. She perceived that Mr. Drummond
+was sorry for them, and she began to warm a little towards
+him. His manner was so respectful, his words so discreet; and
+then he behaved so nicely, taking no notice of the girls, though
+Nan was looking so pretty, but just talking to her in a grave
+responsible way, as though he were a gray-haired man of sixty.</p>
+<p>Phillis was not quite sure she approved of it: in the old
+days she had never been so excluded from conversation: she
+would have liked a word now and then. But Nan sat by quite
+contented: it pleased her to see her mother roused and interested.</p>
+<p>When Mr. Drummond took his leave, she accompanied him
+to the door, and thanked him quite warmly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have done her so much good, for this first evening is
+such a trial to her, poor thing!&#8221; said Nan, lifting her lovely
+eyes to the young man&#8217;s face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am so glad! I will come again,&#8221; he said, rather incoherently.
+And as he went out of the green door he told himself
+that it was his clear duty to befriend this interesting family.
+He ought to have gone home and written to Grace, for it was
+long past the time when she always expected to hear from him.
+But the last day or two he had rather shirked this duty. It
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span>
+would be difficult to explain to Grace. She might be rather
+shocked, for she was a little prim in such things, being her
+mother&#8217;s daughter. He thought he would ask Mattie to tell her
+about the Challoners, and that he was busy and would write
+soon; and when he had made up his mind to this, he went
+down to the sea-shore and amused himself by sitting on a breakwater
+and staring at the fishing-smacks,&mdash;which of course
+showed how very busy he was.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think I shall like Mr. Drummond,&#8221; observed Mrs. Challoner,
+in a tolerant tone, when Nan had accompanied the young
+vicar to the door. &#8220;He seems an earnest, good sort of young
+man.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, mammie dear. And I am sure he has fallen in love
+with you,&#8221; returned Phillis, naughtily, &#8220;for he talked to no one
+else. And you are so young-looking and pretty that of course
+no one could be surprised if he did.&#8221; But though Mrs. Challoner
+said, &#8220;Oh, Phillis!&#8221; and looked dreadfully shocked in a proper
+matronly way, what was the use of that, when the mischievous
+girl burst out laughing in her face?</p>
+<p>But the interruption had done them all good, and the evening
+passed less heavily than they had dared to hope. And when
+Mrs. Challoner complained of fatigue and retired early, escorted
+by Dorothy, who was dying for a chat with her mistress, the
+three girls went out in the garden, and walked, after their old
+fashion, arm in arm up and down the lawn, with Nan in the
+middle; though Dulce pouted and pretended that the lawn was
+too narrow, and that Phillis was pushing her on the gravel
+path.</p>
+<p>Their mother&#8217;s window was open, and they could have heard
+snatches of Dorothy&#8217;s conversation if they had chosen to listen.
+Dulce stood still a moment, and wafted a little kiss towards her
+mother&#8217;s room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear old mamsie! She has been very good this evening,
+has she not, Nan? She has only cried the least wee bit, when
+you kissed her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed. And somebody else has been good too. What
+do you say, Phillis? Has not Dulce been the best child possible?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Nan, I should be ashamed to be otherwise,&#8221; returned
+Dulce, in such an earnest manner that it made her sisters laugh,
+&#8220;Do you think I could see you both so good and cheerful, making
+the best of things, and never complaining, even when the
+tears are in your eyes,&mdash;as yours are often, Nan, when you
+think no one is looking,&mdash;and not try and copy your example?
+I am dreadfully proud of you both,&mdash;that is what I am,&#8221; continued
+the warm-hearted girl. &#8220;I never knew before what was
+in my sisters. And now I feel as though I want the whole world
+to come and admire my Phillis and Nan!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Little flatterer!&#8221; but Nan squeezed Dulce&#8217;s arm affectionately.
+And Phillis said, in a joking tone,&mdash;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, it was not half so bad. This evening there was mother
+looking so dear and pretty: and there were you girls; and,
+though the nest is small, it feels warm and cosy. And if
+we could only forget Glen Cottage, and leave off missing the old
+faces, which I never shall&mdash;&#8221; (&#8220;Nor I,&#8221; echoed Nan, with a
+deep sigh, fetched from somewhere)&mdash;&#8220;and root ourselves
+afresh, we should contrive not to be unhappy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think it is our duty to cultivate cheerfulness,&#8221; added Nan,
+seriously; and after this they fell to a discussion on ways and
+means. As usual, Phillis was chief spokeswoman, but to Nan
+belonged the privilege of the casting vote.</p>
+<p>The next few days were weary ones to Mrs. Challoner: there
+was still much to be done before the Friary could be pronounced
+in order. The girls spent most of the daylight hours unpacking
+boxes, sorting and arranging their treasures, and, if the truth
+must be told, helping Dorothy to polish furniture and wash glass
+and china.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner, who was not strong enough for these household
+labors, found herself condemned to hem new dusters and
+mend old table-linen, to the tune of her own sad thoughts. Mr.
+Drummond found her sorting a little heap on the parlor table
+when he dropped in casually one morning,&mdash;this time with some
+very fine cherries that his sister thought Mrs. Challoner would
+enjoy.</p>
+<p>When Mr. Drummond began his little speech he could have
+sworn that there were tears on the poor lady&#8217;s cheeks; but when
+he had finished she looked up at him with a smile, and thanked
+him warmly, and then they had quite a nice chat together.</p>
+<p>Mr. Drummond&#8217;s visit was quite a godsend, she told him,
+for her girls were busy and had no time to talk to her; and
+&#8220;one&#8217;s thoughts are not always pleasant companions,&#8221; she
+added, with a sigh. And Mr. Drummond, who had caught
+sight of the tears, was at once sympathetic, and expressed himself
+in such feeling terms&mdash;for he was more at ease in the girls&#8217;
+absence&mdash;that Mrs. Challoner opened out in the most confiding
+way, and told him a great deal that he had been anxious to
+learn.</p>
+<p>But she soon found out, to her dismay, that he disapproved
+of her girls&#8217; plans; for he told her so at once, and in the coolest
+manner. The opportunity for airing his views on the subject
+was far too good to be lost. Mrs. Challoner was alone; she was
+in a low, dejected mood; the rulers of the household were gathered
+in an upper chamber. What would Phillis have said, as
+she warbled a rather flat accompaniment to Nan&#8217;s &#8220;Bonnie
+Dundee,&#8221; which she was singing to keep up their spirits over
+a piece of hard work, if she had known that Mr. Drummond
+was at that moment in possession of her mother&#8217;s ear?</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Mr. Drummond, this is very sad, if every one should
+think as you do about my poor girls! and Phillis does so object
+to being called romantic;&#8221; for he had hinted in a gentlemanly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span>
+way that he thought the whole scheme was crude and girlish
+and quixotic to a degree.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hope you will not tell her, then,&#8221; returned Mr. Drummond
+in a soothing tone, for Mrs. Challoner was beginning to look
+agitated. &#8220;I am afraid nothing I say will induce Miss Challoner
+to give up her pet scheme; but I felt, as your clergyman, it was
+my duty to let you know my opinion.&#8221; And here Archie looked
+so very solemn that Mrs. Challoner, being a weak woman, and
+apt to overvalue the least expression of masculine opinion, grew
+more and more alarmed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes!&#8221; she faltered; &#8220;it is very good&mdash;very nice of you
+to tell me this.&#8221; Phillis would have laughed in his face and
+Mrs. Cheyne would have found something to say about his
+youth; but in Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s eyes, though she was an older
+woman, Archie&#8217;s solemnity and Oriental beard carried tremendous
+weight with them. He might be young, nevertheless she
+was bound to listen meekly to him, and to respect his counsel
+as one who had a certain authority over her. &#8220;Oh, you are
+very good! and if only my girls had not made up their minds
+so quickly! but now what can I do but feel very uncomfortable
+after you have told me this?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, as to that, there is always time for everything; it is
+never too late to mend,&#8221; returned Mr. Drummond, tritely. &#8220;I
+meant from the first to tell you what I thought, if I should ever
+have an opportunity of speaking to you alone. You see, we
+Oxford men have our own notions about things: we do not
+always go with the tide. If your daughters&mdash;&#8221; here he hesitated
+and grew red, for he was a modest, honest young
+fellow in the main&mdash;&#8220;pardon me, but I am only proposing an
+hypothesis&mdash;if they wanted to make a sensation and get themselves
+talked about, no doubt they would achieve a success, for
+the novelty&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; But here he stopped, reduced to silence by
+the shocked expression of Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Drummond! my girls&mdash;make a sensation&mdash;be talked
+about?&#8221; she gasped; and all the spirit of her virtuous matronhood,
+and all the instinctive feeling that years of culture and
+ingrained refinement of nature had engendered, shone in her
+eyes. Her Nan and Phillis and Dulce to draw this on themselves!</p>
+<p>Now, at this unlucky moment, when the maternal fires were
+all alight, who should enter but Phillis, wanting &#8220;pins, and
+dozens of them,&mdash;quickly, please,&#8221; and still warbling flatly that
+refrain of &#8220;Bonnie Dundee!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Phillis! Oh, my darling child!&#8221; cried Mrs. Challoner,
+quite hysterically; &#8220;do you know what your clergyman says?
+and if he should say such things, what will be the world&#8217;s
+opinion? No, Mr. Drummond, I did not mean to be angry.
+Of course you are telling us this for our good; but I do not know
+when I have been so shocked.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, what is this?&#8221; demanded Phillis, calmly; but she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span>
+fixed her eyes on the unlucky clergyman, who began to wish
+that that last speech had not been uttered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He says it is to make a sensation&mdash;to be talked about&mdash;that
+you are going to do this,&#8221; gasped Mrs. Challoner, who was
+far too much upset to weigh words truly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What!&#8221; Phillis only uttered that very unmeaning monosyllable:
+nevertheless, Archie jumped from his seat as though
+he had been shot.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Challoner, really this is too bad! No, you must allow
+me to explain,&#8221; as Phillis turned aside with a curling lip, as
+though she would leave them. He actually went between her
+and the door, as though he meant to prevent her egress forcibly.
+There is no knowing to what lengths he would have gone in his
+sudden agitation. &#8220;Only wait a moment, until I explain myself.
+Your mother has misunderstood me altogether. Never
+has such a thought entered my mind!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh,&#8221; observed Phillis. But now she stood still and began
+to collect her pins out of her mother&#8217;s basket. &#8220;Perhaps, as
+this is rather unpleasant, you will have the kindness to tell me
+what it was you said to my mother?&#8221; And she spoke like a
+young princess who had just received an insult.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I desire nothing more,&#8221; returned Archie, determined to defend
+himself at all costs. &#8220;I had been speaking to Mrs. Challoner
+about all this unfortunate business. She was good enough
+to repose confidence in me, and, as your clergyman, I felt myself
+bound to tell her exactly my opinions on the subject.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not quite see the necessity; but no doubt you know
+best,&#8221; was Phillis&#8217;s somewhat sarcastic answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;At least, I did it for the best,&#8221; returned the young man,
+humbly. &#8220;I pointed out things to Mrs. Challoner, as I told
+you I should. I warned her what the world would say,&mdash;that
+it would regard your plan as very singular and perhaps quixotic.
+Surely there is nothing in this to offend you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have not touched on the worst part of all,&#8221; returned
+Phillis, with a little disdain in her voice. &#8220;About making a
+sensation, I mean.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There it was that your mother so entirely misunderstood.
+What I said was this: If this dressmaking scheme were undertaken
+just to make a sensation, it would of course, achieve
+success, for I thought the novelty might take. And then I
+added that I was merely stating an hypothesis by way of argument,
+and then Mrs. Challoner looked shocked, and you came
+in.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is that all?&#8221; asked Phillis, coming down from her stilts at
+once, for she knew of old how her mother would confuse things
+sometimes; and, if this were the truth, she, Phillis, had been
+rather too hard on him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes. Do you see now any necessity for quarrelling with
+me?&#8221; returned Mr. Drummond, breathing a little more freely
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span>
+as the frown lessened on Phillis&#8217;s face. He wanted to be friends
+with these girls, not to turn them against him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, no, I believe not,&#8221; she answered, quite gravely.
+&#8220;And I am sure I beg your pardon if I was rude.&#8221; But this
+Archie would not allow for a moment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, Mr. Drummond, one word before peace is quite restored,&#8221;
+went on Phillis, with something of her old archness,
+&#8220;or else I will fetch my sisters, and you will have three of us
+against you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, do, Phillis, my dear,&#8221; interrupted her mother; &#8220;let
+them come and hear what Mr. Drummond thinks.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mammy, how dare you!&mdash;how dare you be so contumacious,
+after all the trouble we have taken to set your dear
+fidgety mind at rest? Just look what you have done, Mr.
+Drummond,&#8221; turning upon him. &#8220;Now I am not going to forgive
+you, and we will not trust the mother out of our sight,
+unless you promise not to say this sort of thing to her when we
+are not here to answer them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, Miss Challoner, my pastoral conscience!&#8221; but his eyes
+twinkled a little.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, never mind that!&#8221; she retorted, mischievously. &#8220;I
+will give you leave to lecture us collectively, but not individually:
+that must not be thought about for a moment.&#8221; She had
+not a notion what the queer expression on Mr. Drummond&#8217;s face
+meant, and he did not know himself; but he had the strongest
+desire to laugh at this.</p>
+<p>They parted after this the best of friends; and Phillis tasted
+the cherries, and pronounced them very good.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have quite forgiven me?&#8221; Mr. Drummond said, as
+she accompanied him to the door before rejoining her sisters.
+&#8220;You know I have promised not to do it again until the next
+time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, we shall see about that!&#8221; returned Phillis, good-humoredly.
+&#8220;Forewarned is forearmed; and there is a triple
+alliance against you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good heavens, what mockery it seems! I never saw such
+girls,&mdash;never!&#8221; thought Mr. Drummond, as he took long
+strides down the road. &#8220;But Mattie is right: they mean
+business, and nothing in the world would change that girl&#8217;s
+determination if she had set herself to carry a thing out. I
+never knew a stronger will!&#8221; And in this he was tolerably
+right.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXII_TRIMMINGS_NOT_SQUAILS' id='CHAPTER_XXII_TRIMMINGS_NOT_SQUAILS'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXII.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;TRIMMINGS, NOT SQUAILS.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>The longest week must have an end; and so at last the eventful
+Monday morning arrived,&mdash;&#8220;Black Monday,&#8221; as Dulce
+called it, and then sighed as she looked out on the sunshine and
+the waving trees, and thought how delicious a long walk or a
+game of tennis would be, instead of stitch, stitch, stitching all
+day. But Dulce was an unselfish little soul, and kept all these
+thoughts to herself, and dressed herself quickly; for she had
+overslept herself, and Phillis had long been downstairs.</p>
+<p>Nan was locking up the tea-caddy as she entered the parlor,
+and Phillis was standing by the table, drawing on her gloves,
+and her lips were twitching a little,&mdash;a way they had when
+Phillis was nervous.</p>
+<p>Nan went up and kissed her, and gave her an encouraging pat.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is for luck, my dear; and mind you make the best of
+poor Miss Milner&#8217;s dumpy, roundabout little figure. There I
+have put the body-lining, and the measuring-tape, and a paper
+of pins in this little black bag; and I have not forgotten the scissors,&mdash;oh,
+dear, no! I have not forgotten the scissors,&#8221; went on
+Nan, with such surprising cheerfulness that Phillis saw through
+it, and was down on her in a moment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, Nan; there! I declare I will not be such a goose. I
+am not nervous,&mdash;not one bit; it is pure fun, that&#8217;s what it is.
+Dulce, what a naughty child you are to oversleep yourself this
+morning, and I had not the heart to wake you, you looked so
+like a baby: and we never wake babies because they are sure
+to squall!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Phil, are you going to Miss Milner&#8217;s? I would have
+walked with you if I had had my breakfast; but I am so
+hungry.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I could not possibly wait,&#8221; returned Phillis; &#8220;punctuality
+is one of the first duties of&mdash;hem!&mdash;dressmakers; all orders
+executed promptly, and promises performed with undeviating
+regularity: those are my maxims. Eat a good breakfast, and
+then see if mammy wants any help, for Nan must be ready for
+me at the work-table, for she is our head cutter-out.&#8221; And
+then Phillis nodded briskly, and walked away.</p>
+<p>By a singular chance, Mr. Drummond was watering his ferns
+in the front court as Phillis passed, and in spite of her reluctance,
+for somehow he was the last person she wanted to encounter
+that day, she was obliged to wish him good-morning.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good-morning! Yes, indeed, it is a glorious morning,&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span>
+observed Archie, brightly. &#8220;And may I ask where you are
+going so early?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Only to the Library,&#8221; returned Phillis, laconically; but the
+color mounted to her forehead. &#8220;We begin business to-day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And then Archie took up his watering-pot and refrained from
+any more questions. It was absurd, perhaps, but at the moment
+he had forgotten, and the remembrance was not pleasing.</p>
+<p>Phillis felt quite brave after this, and walked into the Library
+as though the place belonged to her. When it came to details,
+Miss Milner was far more nervous than she.</p>
+<p>She would keep apologizing to Phillis for making her stand so
+long, and she wanted to hold the pins and to pick up the scissors
+that Phillis had dropped; and when the young dressmaker
+consulted her about the trimmings, she was far too humble to
+intrude her opinions.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Anything you think best, Miss Challoner, for you have such
+beautiful taste as never was seen; and I am sure the way you
+have fitted that body-lining is just wonderful, and would be a
+lesson to Miss Slasher for life. No, don&#8217;t put the pins in your
+mouth, there&#8217;s a dear.&#8221;</p>
+<p>For, in her intense zeal, Phillis had thought herself bound to
+follow the manner of Mrs. Sloper, the village factotum, and she
+always did so, though Nan afterwards assured her that it was
+not necessary, and that in this particular they might be allowed
+to deviate from example.</p>
+<p>But she was quite proud of herself when she had finished, for
+the material seemed to mould under her fingers in the most
+marvellous way, and she knew the fit would be perfect. She
+wanted to rush off at once and set to work with Nan; but Miss
+Milner would not let her off so easily. There was orange wine
+and seed-cake of her own making in the back parlor, and she
+had just one question&mdash;a very little question&mdash;to ask. And here
+Miss Milner coughed a little behind her hand to gain time and
+recover her courage.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The little papers were about the shop, and Mrs. Trimmings
+saw one, and&mdash;and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; Here Phillis came promptly to her
+relief.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And Mrs. Trimmings wants to order a dress, does she?&#8221;
+And Phillis bravely kept down the sudden sinking of heart at
+the news.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Trimmings was the butcher&#8217;s wife,&mdash;the sister of that
+very Mrs. Squails of whom Dulce once made mention,&mdash;well
+known to be the dressiest woman in Hadleigh, who was much
+given to imitate her betters. The newest fashions, the best
+materials, were always to be found on Mrs. Trimmings&#8217;s portly
+figure.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What could I do?&#8221; observed Miss Milner, apologetically:
+&#8220;the papers were about the shop, and what does the woman do
+but take one up? &#8216;I wonder what sort of dressmakers these
+are?&#8217; she said, careless-like; &#8216;there is my new blue silk that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span>
+Andrew brought himself from London and paid five-and-sixpence
+a yard for in St. Paul&#8217;s Churchyard; and I daren&#8217;t let Miss
+Slasher have it, for she made such a mess of that French
+merino. She had to let it out at every seam before I could get
+into it, and it is so tight for me now that I shall be obliged to cut
+it up for Mary Anne. I wonder if I dare try these new people?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And what did you say, Miss Milner?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What could I do then, my dear young lady, but speak up
+and say the best I could for you? for though Mrs. Trimmings
+is not high,&mdash;not one of the gentry, I mean,&mdash;and has a rough
+tongue sometimes, still she knows what good stuff and good
+cutting-out means, and a word from her might do you a power
+of good among the townfolks, for her gowns are always after
+the best patterns.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;All right!&#8221; returned Phillis, cheerfully: &#8220;one must creep
+before one runs, and, until the gentry employ us, we ought to
+think ourselves fortunate to work for the townpeople. I am not
+a bit above making a dress for Mrs. Trimmings, though I would
+rather make one for you, Miss Milner, because you have been so
+kind to us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, now! didn&#8217;t I say there never were such young
+ladies!&#8221; exclaimed Miss Milner, quite affected at this. &#8220;Well,
+if you are sure you don&#8217;t mind, Miss Challoner dear, will you
+please go to Mrs. Trimmings&#8217;s this morning? for though I told
+her my dress was to be finished first, still Trimmings&#8217;s isn&#8217;t
+a stone&#8217;s-throw from here; and you may as well settle a thing
+when you are about it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And I will take the silk, Miss Milner, if you will kindly let
+me have a nice piece of brown paper.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Indeed and you will do no such thing, Miss Challoner; and
+there is Joseph going down with the papers to Mr. Drummond&#8217;s,
+and will leave it at the Friary as he passes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, thank you,&#8221; observed Phillis, gratefully. &#8220;Then I will
+pencil a word to my sister, to let her know why I am detained.&#8221;
+And she scrawled a line to Nan:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Trimmings, not Squails: here beginneth the first chapter.
+Expect me when you see me, and do nothing until I come.&#8221;</p>
+<p>There was no side-door at Trimmings&#8217;s, and Mrs. Trimmings
+was at the desk, jotting down legs of mutton, and entries of
+gravy-beef and suet, with a rapidity that would have tried the
+brain of any other woman than a butcher&#8217;s wife.</p>
+<p>When Phillis approached, she looked up at her suavely,
+expecting custom.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just half a moment, ma&#8217;am,&#8221; she said, civilly. &#8220;Yes, Joe,
+wing-rib and half of suet to Mrs. Penfold, and a loin of lamb
+and sweet-bread for No. 12, Albert Terrace. Now, ma&#8217;am, what
+can I do for you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have only come about your dress, Mrs. Trimmings,&#8221; returned
+Phillis, in a very small voice; and then she tried not to
+laugh, as Mrs. Trimmings regarded her with a broad stare of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span>
+astonishment, which took her in comprehensively, hat, dress,
+and neat dogskin gloves.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You might have taken up my pen and knocked me down
+with it,&#8221; was Mrs. Trimmings&#8217;s graphic description of her feelings
+afterwards, as she carved a remarkably fine loin of veal,
+with a knuckle of ham and some kidney-beans to go with it.
+&#8220;There was the colonel standing by the desk, Andrew; and he
+turned right round and looked at us both. &#8216;I&#8217;ve come about
+your dress, Mrs. Trimmings,&#8217; she said, as pertlike as possible.
+Law, I thought I should have dropped, I was that taken aback.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis&#8217;s feelings were none of the pleasantest when Colonel
+Middleton turned round and looked at her. There was an
+expression almost of sorrow in the old man&#8217;s eyes, as he so regarded
+her, which made her feel hot and uncomfortable. It
+was a relief when Mrs. Trimmings roused from her stupefaction
+and bustled out of the desk.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This way, miss,&#8221; she said, with a jerk of her comely head.
+But her tone changed a little, and became at once sharp and
+familiar. &#8220;I hope you understand your business, for I never
+could abide waste; and the way Miss Slasher cut into that gray
+merino,&mdash;and it only just meets, so to say,&mdash;and the breadths
+are as scanty as possible; and it would go to my heart to have a
+beautiful piece of silk spoiled, flve-and-sixpence a yard, and
+not a flaw in it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If I thought I should spoil your dress I would not undertake
+it,&#8221; returned Phillis, gently. She felt she must keep herself
+perfectly quiet with this sort of people. &#8220;My sister and I have
+just made up some very pretty silk and cashmere costumes,
+and they fitted as perfectly as possible.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, indeed!&#8221; observed Mrs. Trimmings, in a patronizing
+tone. She had no idea that the costumes of which Phillis spoke
+had been worn by the young dressmakers at one of Lady Fitzroy&#8217;s
+afternoon parties. She was not quite at her ease with Phillis;
+she thought her a little high-and-mighty in her manner. &#8220;A
+uppish young person,&#8221; as she said afterwards; &#8220;but her grand
+airs made no sort of difference to me, I can assure you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>There was no holding pins or picking up scissors in this case.
+On the contrary, Mrs. Trimmings watched with a vigilant eye,
+and was ready to pounce on Phillis at the least mistake or oversight,
+seeing which Phillis grew cooler and more off-hand every
+moment. There was a great deal of haggling over the cut of the
+sleeve and arrangement of the drapery. &#8220;If you will kindly
+leave it to me,&#8221; Phillis said once; but nothing was further from
+Mrs. Trimmings&#8217;s intention. She had not a silk dress every day.
+And she had always been accustomed to settle all these points
+herself, while Miss Slasher had stood by humbly turning over the
+pages of her fashion-books, and calling her, at every sentence,
+&#8220;Ma&#8217;am,&#8221; a word that Phillis&#8217;s lips had not yet uttered.
+Phillis&#8217;s patience was almost tired out, when she was at last
+allowed to depart with a large brown-paper parcel under her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span>
+arm. Mrs. Trimmings would have wrapped it up in newspaper,
+but Phillis had so curtly refused to have anything but brown
+paper that her manner rather overawed the woman.</p>
+<p>Poor Phillis! Yes, it had really come to pass, and here she
+was, actually walking through Hadleigh in the busiest time of
+the day, with a large, ugly-looking parcel and a little black
+bag! She had thought of sending Dorothy for the dress, but
+she knew what a trial it would have been to the old woman to
+see one of her young ladies reduced to this, and she preferred
+ladening herself to hurting the poor old creature&#8217;s feelings. So
+she walked out bravely in her best style. But nevertheless her
+shapely neck would turn itself now and then from side to side,
+as though in dread of some familiar face. And there were little
+pin-pricks all over her of irritation and mortified self-love. &#8220;A
+thing is all very well in theory, but it may be tough in practice,&#8221;
+she said to herself. And she felt an irresistible desire to return
+the offending dress to that odious Trimmings and tell her she
+would have nothing to do with her,&mdash;&#8220;a disagreeable old cat,&#8221;
+I am afraid Phillis called her, for one is not always charitable
+and civil-spoken in one&#8217;s thoughts.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We are going the same way. May I carry that formidable-looking
+parcel for you?&#8221; asked a voice that was certainly becoming
+very familiar.</p>
+<p>Poor Phillis started and blushed; but she looked more annoyed
+than pleased at the rencontre.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Drummond, are you omnipresent?&mdash;one is forever encountering
+you!&#8221; she said, quite pettishly; but, when Archie
+only laughed, and tried to obtain possession of the parcel, she
+resisted, and would have none of his assistance.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear, no!&#8221; she said: &#8220;I could not think of such a
+thing! Fancy the vicar of Hadleigh condescending to carry
+home Mrs. Trimmings&#8217;s dress!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Trimmings&#8217;s dress?&#8221; repeated Mr. Drummond, in a
+rapid crescendo. &#8220;Oh, Miss Challoner! I declare this beats
+everything!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis threw him a glance. She meant it to be cool, but she
+could not keep the sadness out of her eyes; they did so contradict
+the assumed lightness of her words:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Milner was far more considerate: she made Joseph
+carry hers to the Friary when he left your papers. Was he not
+a benevolent Joseph? Mrs. Trimmings wanted to wrap up her
+silk in newspaper; but I said to myself, &#8216;One must draw the
+line somewhere;&#8217; and so I held out for brown paper. Do you
+think you could have offered to carry a parcel in newspaper,
+Mr. Drummond? Oh, by the bye, how can you condescend to
+walk with a dressmaker? But this is a quiet road, and no one
+will see you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pardon me if I contradict you, but there is Colonel Middleton
+looking over his garden palings this moment,&#8221; returned Mr.
+Drummond, who had just become painfully aware of the fact.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you think you had better go and speak to him, then?
+for you see I am in no need of help,&#8221; retorted Phillis, who was
+sore all over, and wanted to get rid of him, and yet would have
+been offended if he had taken her at her word. But Mr. Drummond,
+who felt his position an uncomfortable one, and was dreadfully
+afraid of the colonel&#8217;s banter, was not mean enough to
+take advantage of her dismissal. He had joined himself to her
+company out of pure good nature, for it was a hot day and the
+parcel was heavy, but she would have none of his assistance.</p>
+<p>So he only waved his hand to his friend, who took off his old
+felt hat very solemnly in return, and watched them with a
+grieved expression until they were out of sight.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now I will bid you good-bye,&#8221; he said, when they had
+reached the vicarage.</p>
+<p>Phillis said nothing; but she held out her hand, and there
+was a certain brightness in her eyes that showed she was
+pleased.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is a gentleman, every inch of him; and I won&#8217;t quarrel
+with him any more,&#8221; she thought, as she walked up to the
+Friary. &#8220;Oh, how nice it would have been if we were still at
+Glen Cottage and he could see us at our best, and we were able
+to entertain him in our old fashion! How Carrie and the other
+girls would have liked him! and how jealous Dick would have
+been! for he never liked our bringing strange young men to
+the house, and always found fault with them if he could,&#8221;
+and here Phillis sighed, and for the moment Mrs. Trimmings
+was forgotten.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXIII_BRAVO_ATALANTA' id='CHAPTER_XXIII_BRAVO_ATALANTA'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;BRAVO, ATALANTA!&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Phillis received quite an ovation as soon as she crossed the
+threshold. Dulce, who was listening for her footsteps, rushed
+out into the little hall, and dragged her in, as though she were
+too weary to have any movement or volition of her own. And
+then Nan came up, in her calm elder-sisterly way, and put her
+arm round her, and hoped she was not so very tired, and there
+was so much to say, and so much to do, and she wanted her
+advice, and so on.</p>
+<p>And on Nan&#8217;s forehead lay a thoughtful pucker; and on the
+centre-table were sundry breadths of green silk, crisp-looking
+and faintly bronzed, like withered leaves with the sun on them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear! has Miss Drummond been here in my absence?&#8221;
+asked Phillis, with the overwhelmed feeling of a beginner, who
+has not yet learned to separate and classify, or the rich value of
+odd moments. &#8220;Three dresses to be done at once!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;One at a time. But never mind Miss Drummond&#8217;s this
+moment. Mother is safe in the store-cupboard for the next
+half-hour, and we want to know what you mean by your ridiculous
+message, &#8216;Trimmings, not Squails.&#8217; Dulce is dying of
+curiosity, and so am I.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; but she looks so hot and tired that she must refresh
+herself first.&#8221; And Dulce placed on her sister&#8217;s lap a plate of
+yellow plums, perfectly bedded in moss, which had come from
+the vicarage garden. And as Phillis enjoyed the dainty repast
+and poured out her morning&#8217;s experiences in the ears of her
+astonished auditors, lo, the humiliation and the sting were forgotten,
+and only an intense sense of the humor of the situation
+remained.</p>
+<p>It was Dulce whose pink cheeks were burning now.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Phillis! how could you? It is too dreadful even to
+think about! That fat old thing, too! Why, she is twice as
+big as Mrs. Squails!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Beggars cannot be choosers, my dear,&#8221; replied Phillis, airily;
+for rest was pleasant, and the fruit was good, and it was so
+delicious to feel all that was over and she was safe in her nest
+again; and then the pleasure of talking it all over! &#8220;Do you
+know&mdash;?&#8221; she began, in a disconnected manner, and then sat and
+stared at her sisters with luminous gray eyes, until they begged
+to know what the new idea was.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, nothing,&#8221; she replied, and colored a little. And then
+she blurted out, in an oddly-ashamed way, &#8220;it was talking to
+you two dears that put it in my head. But I could not help
+thinking that moment that if one is ever good enough to
+get to heaven, one of the greatest pleasures will be to talk about
+all our past miseries and difficulties, and how the angels helped
+us! and, though you may laugh at me,&#8221;&mdash;they were doing
+nothing of the kind, only admiring her with all their might,&mdash;&#8220;I
+have a kind of fancy that even my &#8216;Trimmings, not Squails&#8217;
+episode may have a different look up there!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear,&#8221; returned Nan, gently, for she loved all speeches
+of this sort, being a devout little soul and truly pious, &#8220;nothing
+was further from my thoughts than to laugh at you, for the
+more we think in this way the grander our work will appear to
+us. Mrs. Trimmings may be fat and vulgar, but when you
+were measuring her and answering her so prettily&mdash;and I know
+how nicely you would speak, Phil&mdash;I think you were as brave
+as one of those old knights&mdash;I cannot remember their names&mdash;who
+set out on some lofty quest or other!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose the child means Sir Galahad,&#8221; observed Phillis,
+with a groan at Nan&#8217;s ignorance. &#8220;Oh, Nannie, I wish I could
+say,&mdash;</p>
+<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>
+&#8220;&#8216;My strength is as the strength of ten,<br />
+<span style='margin-left: 1.5625em;'>Because my heart is pure;&#8217;&#8221;</span></p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<p>and then she softly chanted,&mdash;for quotation never came amiss
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span>
+to her, and her head was crammed with choice selections from
+the poets,&mdash;</p>
+<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>
+&#8220;&#8216;All armed I ride, whate&#8217;er betide,<br />
+<span style='margin-left: 1.5625em;'>Until I find the Holy Grail.&#8217;&#8221;</span></p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, the Sangreal, or the Quest. It does not matter what,
+for it was only an allegory,&#8221; returned Nan, who had plenty of
+ideas, only she confused them sometimes, and was not as clever
+in her definitions as Phillis. &#8220;It only meant that those grand
+old knights had some holy purpose and aim in their lives, for
+which they trained and toiled and fought. Don&#8217;t you see?&mdash;the
+meaning is quite clear. We can have our Quest too.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bless her dear heart, if she is not travelling thousands of
+years and miles from Mrs. Trimmings!&#8221; exclaimed Phillis, who
+never could be serious long. &#8220;Well, Nannie, I understand you,
+though you are a trifle vague. We will have our Quest and our
+unattainable standard; and I will be your maiden knight&mdash;yours
+and Dulce&#8217;s.</p>
+<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>
+&#8220;&#8216;How sweet are looks that ladies bend<br />
+<span style='margin-left: 1.5625em;'>On whom their favors fall!</span><br />
+For them I&#8217;ll battle till the end,<br />
+<span style='margin-left: 1.5625em;'>To save from shame and thrall.&#8217;&#8221;</span></p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<p>And when she had repeated this she rose, laughing, and said
+they were all a little demented; and what did they mean by
+wasting their time when there were three dresses to be cut out?
+and Dulce must have the work fixed for the sewing-machine.</p>
+<p>For the next hour there was little talk, only the snipping
+sound of scissors and the rustling of silken breadths, and sometimes
+the swish and the tearing of sundry materials, and then
+the whirring and burning and tappings of Dulce&#8217;s sewing machine,
+like a dozen or two of woodpeckers at work on an iron
+tree. And no one quoted any more poetry, for prose was
+heaped up everywhere about them, and their heads were full of
+business.</p>
+<p>But in the afternoon, when things were in progress and looked
+promising, and Mrs. Challoner had had her nap, and was busy
+over some sleeves that they had given her to keep her quiet and
+satisfy her maternal conscience that she was helping her girls,
+Phillis did hear a little about Miss Drummond&#8217;s visit. The sewing
+machine, which they worked by turns, had stopped for a
+time, and they were all three round the table, sewing and fixing
+as busily as possible: and Phillis, remembering Sir Galahad,
+dared not say she was tired, only she looked out on the lengthening
+shadows with delight, and thought about tea and an evening
+walk just to stretch her cramped muscles. And if one day
+seemed so long, how would a week of days appear before the
+blessed Sunday gave them a few hours of freedom?</p>
+<p>It was at this moment that Nan, with fine tact, broke the
+silence that was good for work, but was apt to wax drowsy in
+time:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Milner&#8217;s dress is getting on well. How fast you two
+girls work! and mammie is doing the sleeves beautifully. Another
+afternoon you must let the work rest, mammie, and read
+to us, or Phillis will get restive. By the bye, Dulce, we have
+not told her a word about Miss Drummond&#8217;s visit.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, indeed: was it not good of her to come so soon?&#8221; exclaimed
+Dulce. &#8220;She told us she wanted to be our first customer,
+and seemed quite disappointed when we said that we
+were bound in honor and mere gratitude to send Miss Milner&#8217;s
+dress home first. &#8216;Not that I am in a hurry for my dress, for
+nobody cares what I wear,&#8217; she said, quite cheerfully; &#8216;but I
+wanted to be the first on your list.&#8217; I wish we could oblige her,
+for she is a nice, unaffected little thing, and I am beginning to
+like her, though she is a little fussy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But she was as meek as a lamb about her dress,&#8221; added
+Nan, who was a first-rate needle-woman, and could work rapidly
+while she talked. &#8220;Just fancy, Phil! she wanted to have
+a jacket with tabs and loose sleeves, just for comfort and coolness.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Loose sleeves and a jacket!&#8221; almost gasped Phillis, for the
+princess skirts were then worn, and jackets were consigned to
+oblivion for the time being. &#8220;I hope you told her, Nan, that
+we had never worked for Mrs. Noah, neither had Mrs. Shem ever
+honored us by her custom.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, no, Phillis; I was not quite so impertinent, and
+clever speeches of that sort never occur to me until you say
+them. But I told Miss Drummond that I could not consent to
+spoil her lovely dress in that way; and then she laughed and
+gave in, and owned she knew nothing about fashions, and that
+her sister Grace always ordered her clothes for her, because she
+chose such ugly things. She sat and chatted such a long time
+with us; she had only just gone when you came home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And she told us such a lot about this wonderful Grace,&#8221;
+went on Dulce: &#8220;she says Archie quite worships her.&mdash;Well,
+mammie,&#8221; as Mrs. Challoner poised her needle in mid-air and
+regarded her youngest daughter with unfeigned astonishment,
+&#8220;I am only repeating Miss Drummond&#8217;s words; she said
+&#8216;Archie.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, my dear, there was no need to be so literal,&#8221; returned
+Mrs. Challoner, reprovingly; for she was a gentlewoman of
+the old school, and nothing grieved her more than slipshod
+English or any idiom or idiotcy of modern parlance in the
+mouths of her bright young daughters: to speak of any
+young man except Dick without the ceremonious prefix was a
+heinous misdemeanor in her eyes. Dulce would occasionally
+trespass, and was always rebuked with much gravity. &#8220;You
+could have said &#8216;her brother,&#8217; could you not?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mammie, I am sure Providence intended you for an old
+maid, and you have not fulfilled your destiny,&#8221; retorted Dulce,
+who was rarely awed by her mother&#8217;s solemnity. &#8220;All that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span>
+fuss because I said &#8216;Archie!&#8217; Oh, I forgot, that name is sacred:
+the Rev. Archibald Drummond adores his sister Grace.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And she must be very nice,&#8221; returned Mrs. Challoner with
+an indulgent smile at her pet Dulce. &#8220;I am sure, from what
+Miss Drummond told us this morning, that she must be a most
+superior person. Why, Phillis, she teaches all her four younger
+sisters, and one of them is sixteen. Miss Drummond says she
+is never out of the school-room, except for an hour or two in
+the evening, when her father and brothers come home. There
+are two more brothers, I think she said. Dear what a large
+family! and Miss Drummond hinted that they were not well off.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should like to know that Grace,&#8221; began Phillis; and then
+she shook her head reflectively. &#8220;No, depend upon it, we
+should be disappointed in her: family paragons are generally
+odious to other folk. Most likely she wears spectacles, and is a
+thin thread-papery sort of person.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;On the contrary, she is a sweet-looking girl, with large
+melancholy eyes; for Miss Drummond showed us her photograph.
+So much for your imagination, Phil?&#8221; and Dulce looked
+triumphant. &#8220;And she is only twenty-two, and, though not
+pretty, just the sort of face one could love.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Some people&#8217;s swans turn out to be geese in the end,&#8221;
+remarked Phillis, provokingly; but she registered at the same
+time a mental resolve that she would cross-examine Mr. Drummond
+on the earliest opportunity about this wonderful sister of
+his. Oh, it was no marvel if he did look down on them when
+they had not got brains enough to earn their living except in
+this way! and Phillis stuck her needle into Miss Milner&#8217;s body-lining
+so viciously that it broke.</p>
+<p>The sharp click roused Nan&#8217;s vigilance, and she looked up,
+and was at once full of pity for Phillis&#8217;s pale face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are tired, Phil, and so are we all,&#8221; she said, brightly;
+&#8220;and, as it is our first day of work, we will not overdo ourselves.
+Mammie, if you will make the tea, we will just tidy up,
+and look out the patterns for you to match the trimmings and
+buttons to-morrow;&#8221; for this same business of matching was
+rather hailed by Mrs. Challoner as a relief and amusement.</p>
+<p>Phillis grumbled a little over this additional labor, though,
+at the same time, no one worked harder than she; but she was
+careful to explain that it was her right, as a freeborn Britoness,
+to grumble, and that it was as much a relief to her peculiar
+constitution as a good long yawn is to some people.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And it answers two purposes,&#8221; as she observed; &#8220;for it
+airs the lungs, and relieves the mind, and no one takes any
+more notice than if I set the wind blowing. And thankful I am,
+and every mother&#8217;s child of us, that Dorothy is approaching this
+room with her dust-pan and brush. Dorothy, I have a nice
+little sum for you to do. How many snippets of green and
+black silk go to a dust-pan? Count them, and subtract all the
+tacking-thread, and Dulce&#8217;s pins.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Phillis, you are just feverish from overfatigue and sitting
+so long in one place, for you are used to running about.&#8221; And
+Nan took her by the shoulders, and marched her playfully to
+the small parlor, where Mrs. Challoner was waiting for them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come, girls!&#8221; she said, cheerfully. &#8220;Dorothy has baked
+your favorite little cakes, and there are new-laid eggs for those
+who are hungry; and I am sure you all earned your tea, darlings.
+And, oh, Phillis! how tired you look!&#8221; And Mrs. Challoner
+looked round on each face in turn, in the unwise but loving way
+of mothers.</p>
+<p>This was too much for Phillis; and she interlaced her fingers
+and put them suddenly and sternly over her mother&#8217;s eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, mammie, promise.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Phillis, my dear, how can you be so absurd!&#8221; but Mrs.
+Challoner strove in vain to release herself. Phillis&#8217;s fingers had
+iron tenacity in them when she chose.</p>
+<p>&#8220;A thing like this must be nipped in the bud,&#8221; pronounced
+Phillis, apostrophizing her laughing sisters. &#8220;You must not
+look at us in that fashion every evening, as though we were
+sheep in a pen, or rabbits for sale. You will be weighing us
+next; and my nerves will not stand it. No, mother; here I
+strike. I will not be looked at in that manner.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, Phillis&mdash;Oh, you nonsensical child!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Personal remarks are to be tabooed from this moment. You
+must not say, &#8216;How tired you look!&#8217; or &#8216;How pale you are!&#8217;
+It is not manners at the Friary, and it is demoralizing. I am
+ten times more tired this minute than I was before you told me
+so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well, Phillis; but you must let me pour out the tea.&#8221;
+And then Phillis subsided. But she had started the fun, and
+Dulce soon took it up and set the ball rolling. And Dorothy,
+working hard with her dust-pan and brushes, heard the merriment,
+and her old face lighted up.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bless their sweet faces!&mdash;pretending to be happy, just to
+cheer up the mistress, and make believe it is only a game they
+are having!&#8221; muttered the old woman, as she paused to listen.
+&#8220;But, if I am not mistaken, Miss Phillis, poor dear, is just
+ready to drop with fatigue. Only to hear her, one would think
+she was as perky as possible.&#8221;</p>
+<p>When the evening meal was over, Mrs. Challoner leaned back
+in her chair and made a little speech to her daughters:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, my dears. You have done me so much good.
+Now, if you want to please me, you will all three put on your
+hats and take a nice long walk together.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girls looked at each other, and every pair of eyes said,
+as plainly as possible, &#8220;What a delicious idea! But only two
+can go, and I intend to be the filial victim.&#8221; But Mrs. Challoner
+was too quick for them. &#8220;I said all three,&#8221; she remarked, very
+decidedly. &#8220;If one offers to stay with me, I shall just put myself
+to bed and lock the door; but if you will be good, and enjoy
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span>
+this lovely evening, I will take my book in the garden and be
+quite happy until you come back to me.&#8221; And when they saw
+that she meant it, and would only be worried by a fuss, they
+went off as obediently as possible.</p>
+<p>They walked very sedately down the Braidwood Road, and
+past the White House; but when they got into the town, Phillis
+hurried them on a little: &#8220;I don&#8217;t want people. It is air and
+exercise and freedom for which I am pining.&#8221; And she walked
+so fast that they had some trouble to keep up with her.</p>
+<p>But when they had left every trace of human habitation
+behind them, and were strolling down the rough, uneven beach,
+towards a narrow strip of sand, that would soon be covered by
+the advancing tide, Phillis said, in an odd, breathless way, &#8220;Nan,
+just look round and see if there be any one in sight, before,
+behind, or around us;&#8221; and Nan, though in some little surprise,
+did at once as she was bidden, in the most thorough manner.
+For she looked up at the sky first, as though she were afraid of
+balloons or possible angels; and then at the sea, which she
+scanned narrowly, so that not even a fish could escape her; and
+after that she beat the boundaries of the land.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, there is not a creature in sight except ourselves and
+Laddie,&#8221; she answered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well,&#8221; answered Phillis promptly. &#8220;Then, if it be
+all safe, and the Hadleigh wits are away wool gathering, and
+you will not tell mother, I mean to have a race with Dulce, as
+far as we can run along the shore; and if I do not win&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;
+And here she pursed up her lips and left her sentence unfinished,
+as though determined to be provoking.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We shall see about that,&#8221; returned Dulce, accepting the
+challenge in a moment; for she was always ready to follow a
+good lead.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you foolish children?&#8221; observed Nan, in her staid fashion.
+But she did not offer the slightest remonstrance, knowing
+of old that unless Phillis found some safety-valve she would
+probably wax dangerous. So she called Laddie to her, and held
+him whining and struggling, for he wanted to stretch his little
+legs too; thinking a race was good for dogs as well as for girls.
+But Nan would not hear of it for a moment: he might trip them
+up and cause another sprained ankle.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, Nan, you must be umpire, and say, One, two, three!&#8221;
+And Nan again obeys, and then watches them with interest.
+Oh, how pretty it was, if only any one could have seen it, except
+the crabs and the star-fish, and they never take much notice:
+the foreground of the summer sea coming up with little purple
+rushes and a fringe of foam; the yellow sand, jagged, uneven,
+with salt-water pools here and there; the two girls in their
+light dresses skimming over the ground with swift feet, skirting
+the pools, jumping lightly over stones, even climbing a breakwater,
+then running along another level piece of sand,&mdash;Dulce a
+little behind, but Phillis as erect and sure-footed as Atalanta.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span></p>
+<p>Now Nan has lost them, and puts Laddie down and prepares
+to follow. In spite of her staidness, she would have dearly loved
+a run too; only she thinks of Dick, and forbears.</p>
+<p>Dulce, who is out of breath, fears she must give up the race,
+and begins to pant and drop behind in earnest, and to wish salt
+water were fresh, and then to dread the next breakwater as a
+hopeless obstacle; but Phillis, who is still as fresh as possible,
+squares her elbows as she has seen athletes do, and runs lightly
+up to it, unmindful and blissfully ignorant of human eyes behind
+a central hole.</p>
+<p>Some one who is of a classical turn has been thinking of the
+daughter of Iasus and Clymene, and cries out, &#8220;Bravo, Atalanta!
+but where is Milanion, that he has forgotten the golden
+apples?&#8221; And Phillis, stricken dumb by the question and the
+sudden apparition of a bearded face behind the breakwater,
+remains standing as though she were carved in stone.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXIV_MOTHERS_ARE_MOTHERS' id='CHAPTER_XXIV_MOTHERS_ARE_MOTHERS'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2>
+<h3>MOTHERS ARE MOTHERS.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Drummond! Oh dear! is one never to be free from
+pastoral supervision?&#8221; muttered Phillis, half sulkily, when
+she roused from her stupefaction and had breath to take the
+offensive. And what would he think of her? But that was
+a question to be deferred until later, when nightmares and
+darkness and troublesome thoughts harass the unwary soul.
+&#8220;Like a dog, he hunts in dreams,&#8221; she might have said to herself,
+quoting from &#8220;Locksley Hall.&#8221; But she did nothing of
+the kind,&mdash;only looked at the offending human being with such
+an outraged dignity in her bearing that Mr. Drummond nearly
+committed himself by bursting out laughing.</p>
+<p>He refrained with difficulty, and said rather dryly,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That was a good race; but I saw you would win from the
+first; and you jumped that stone splendidly. I suppose you
+know the story of Atalanta?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes,&#8221; responded Phillis, gloomily; but she could not
+help showing off her knowledge all the same; and she had
+always been so fond of heathen mythology, and had even read
+translations of Homer and Virgil. &#8220;She had a she-bear for a
+nurse, and was eventually turned into a lion; and I always
+thought her very stupid for being such a baby and stopping to
+pick up the golden apple.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nevertheless, the subject is a charming one for a picture,&#8221;
+returned Archie, with admirable readiness, for he saw Phillis
+was greatly hurt by this untoward accident, and he liked the
+girl all the better for her spirit. He would not have discovered
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span>
+himself at all, only in another moment she must have seen
+him; and if she would only have believed how fully he entered
+into the fun, and how graceful and harmless he thought it, there
+would have been no pang of wounded self-esteem left. But
+girls, especially if they be worthy of the name, are so sensitive
+and prickly on such matters.</p>
+<p>Dulce had basely deserted her sister, and, at the sight of the
+clerical felt hat, had fled to Nan&#8217;s side for protection.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, never mind,&#8221; Nan had said, consoling her: &#8220;it is only
+Mr. Drummond. And he will know how it was, and that we
+thought there was not a creature in sight.&#8221; Nevertheless, she
+felt a little sorry in her heart that such a thing had happened.
+It would spoil Phillis&#8217;s mirth, for she was very proud; and it
+might shock their mother.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, he will think us such tomboys for grown-up young
+ladies!&#8221; sighed Dulce, who was only just grown up.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never mind what he thinks,&#8221; returned Nan, walking fast,
+for she was anxious to come to Phillis&#8217;s relief. She joined them
+very quietly, and held out her hand to Archie as though nothing
+had happened.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is this a favorite walk of yours, Mr. Drummond? We
+thought we had it all to ourselves, and so the girls had a race.
+They will be dreadfully troubled at having a spectator; but it
+might be worse, for you already know us well enough not to
+misconstrue a little bit of fun.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am glad you judge me so truly,&#8221; returned Archie, with a
+gleam of pleasure in his eyes. Phillis certainly looked uncommonly
+handsome, as she stood there, flushed and angry. But
+how sweet and cool Nan looked!&mdash;not a hair ruffled nor a fold
+of her dress out of order; whereas Dulce&#8217;s brown locks were
+all loose about her shoulders, shaken down by the exercise.
+Nevertheless, at that moment Phillis looked the most striking.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid my sudden appearance has put your sister out
+dreadfully. I assure you I would have made myself into thin
+air if I could,&#8221; went on Archie, penitently; &#8220;but all the same
+it was impossible not to applaud the winner. I felt inclined to
+wave my hat in the air, and cry, &#8216;Bravo, Atalanta!&#8217; half a
+dozen times. You made such pretty running, Miss Challoner;
+and I wish Grace could have seen it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The last word acted like magic on Phillis&#8217;s cloudy brow. She
+had passed over two delicately-implied compliments with a little
+scorn. Did he think her, like other girls, to be mollified by
+sugar-plums and sweet speeches? He might keep all that for
+the typical young lady of Hadleigh. At Oldfield the young
+men knew her better.</p>
+<p>It must be owned that the youth of that place had been
+slightly in awe of Phillis. One or two had even hinted that
+they thought her strong-minded. &#8220;She has stand-off ways,
+and rather laughs at a fellow, and makes one feel sometimes
+like a fool,&#8221; they said; which did not prove much, except that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span>
+Phillis showed herself above nonsense, and had a knowledge of
+shams, and would not be deceived, and, being the better horse
+of the two, showed it; and no man likes to be taken down in
+his class.</p>
+<p>As Phillis would not flirt,&mdash;not understanding the art, but
+Dulce proved herself to be a pretty apt pupil,&mdash;they left off
+trying to make her, and talked sensibly to her instead, which
+she liked better. But, though more than one had admired her,
+no one had ventured to persuade himself or her that he was in
+love; but for that there was plenty of time, Phillis not being the
+sort of girl to remain long without a lover.</p>
+<p>So when she heard Grace&#8217;s name she pricked up her ears, and
+the proud look left her face; and she said, a little archly, but in
+a way that pleased Mr. Drummond,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;All the same, I am glad your sister was not here, for she
+would think Dulce and me such tomboys!&#8221; using Dulce&#8217;s very
+expression.</p>
+<p>Archie shook his head very decidedly at this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah! you do not know Grace, and how she loves a bit of
+fun; only she never gets it, poor girl!&#8221; sighing in a marked
+manner, for he saw how interested Phillis looked. &#8220;If you
+could only hear her laugh; but please sit down a moment and
+rest yourselves,&#8221; continued the artful young man, who had not
+dared to purpose such a thing before.</p>
+<p>Nan hesitated; but a glance at Phillis&#8217;s hot face decided her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just for five minutes,&#8221; she said, &#8220;and then we must go
+back to mother;&#8221; for she had already determined that they
+must cut their walk short for the purpose of getting rid of Mr.
+Drummond.</p>
+<p>And then they sat down on the beach, and Dulce retired behind
+the breakwater to take off her hat and tuck up her hair;
+while Archie, taking no notice, leaned against the other side, and
+felt well contented with his position,&mdash;three such pretty girls, and
+all the world well away!</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is Grace your favorite sister?&#8221; asked Phillis, suddenly, as
+she menaced Laddie with a small pebble.</p>
+<p>This was a lucky opening for Archie. He was never seen to
+more advantage than when he was talking about Grace. There
+was no constraint or consciousness about him at such times, but
+he would speak with a simple earnestness that made people
+say, &#8220;What a good fellow he is!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, she has always been that, you know,&#8221; he said, brightly,
+&#8220;ever since she was a little thing, and I used to carry her
+about in my arms, and string horse-chestnuts for her, when she
+was the funniest, merriest little creature, and so clever. I suppose
+when a man has seven sisters he may be allowed to have
+a favorite among them? and there is not one of them to compare
+with Grace.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Seven sisters!&#8221; repeated Nan, with a smile; and then she
+added &#8220;you are very lucky, Mr. Drummond.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span></p>
+<p>Archie shrugged his shoulders at this: he had never quite recognized
+his blessings in this respect. Isabel and Dottie might
+be tolerated, but he could easily have dispensed with Susie
+and Laura and Clara; he had a knack of forgetting their existence
+when he was absent from them, and when he was at home
+he did not always care to be reminded of their presence. He
+was one of those men who are very exacting to their women-kind,
+who resent it as a personal injury if they fail in good looks
+or are not pleasant to the eye. He did not go so far as to say
+to himself that he could dispense with poor Mattie too, but he
+certainly acted on most occasions as though he thought so.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you not fond of all your sisters?&#8221; asked Phillis, rather
+maliciously, for she had remarked the shrug.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, as to that,&#8221; replied the young man, coloring a little,
+&#8220;one cannot expect to be interested in a lot of school-girls. I am
+afraid I know very little about the four youngest, except that they
+are working Grace to death. Just fancy, Miss Challoner!&#8221; he
+continued, addressing Nan, and quite disregarding Phillis&#8217;s sympathetic
+looks. &#8220;Grace has actually no life of her own at all;
+she teaches those girls, sits with them, walks with them, helps
+them mend their clothes, just like a daily or rather a nursery
+governess, except that she is not paid, and has no holidays.
+I cannot think how my mother can find it in her heart to work
+her so hard!&#8221; finished Archie, excited to wrath at the remembrance
+of Grace&#8217;s wrongs.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, do you know,&#8221; returned Nan, thoughtfully, as he
+seemed to expect an answer to this, and Phillis for a wonder
+was silent, &#8220;I cannot think your sister an object of pity.
+Think what a good and useful life she is leading! She must
+be a perfect treasure to her mother; and I dare say they all
+love her dearly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The girls do,&#8221; was the somewhat grudging response: &#8220;they
+follow her about like four shadows, and even Isabel can do
+nothing without her advice. When I am at home I can scarcely
+get her for a moment to myself; it is &#8216;Grace, come here,&#8217;
+and &#8216;Grace, please do this for me,&#8217; until I wonder she is not
+worn out.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, how happy she must be!&#8221; responded Nan, softly, for
+to her no lot seemed sweeter than this. To be the centre and
+support of a large family circle,&mdash;the friend and trusted confidante
+of each! What a wonderful creature this Grace must
+be! and how could he speak of her in that pitying tone? &#8220;No
+life of her own!&#8221; Well, what life could she want better than
+this? To be the guide and teacher of her younger sisters, and
+to be loved by them so dearly! &#8220;Oh, I think she is to be
+envied! her life must be so full of interest,&#8221; she said, addressing
+the astonished Archie, who had certainly never taken this
+view of it. And when she had said this, she gave a slight
+signal to her sisters, which they understood at once; and then
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span>
+they paced slowly down the beach, with their faces towards
+the town, talking as they went.</p>
+<p>They did not walk four abreast, as they used to do in the Oldfield
+lanes; but Nan led the way with Mr. Drummond, and
+Phillis and Dulce dropped behind.</p>
+<p>Archie was a little silent; but presently he said, quite
+frankly, as though he had known her for years,&mdash;but from the
+first moment he had felt strangely at home with these girls,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you know, you have thrown a fresh light on a vexed
+subject? I have been worrying myself dreadfully about Grace.
+I wanted her to live with me because there was more sympathy
+between us than there ever will be between my sister Mattie
+and myself. We have more in common, and think the same on
+so many subjects; and I knew how happy I could have made
+her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I see,&#8221; returned Nan; and she looked up at him in
+such an interested way that he found no difficulty in going on:</p>
+<p>&#8220;We had planned for years to live together; but when I
+accepted the living, and the question was mooted in the family
+council, my mother would not hear of it for a moment. She
+said Grace could not possibly be spared.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I suppose not, after what you have told me. But it
+must have been a great disappointment to you both,&#8221; was Nan&#8217;s
+judicious reply.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have never ceased to regret my mother&#8217;s decision,&#8221; he returned,
+warmly; &#8220;and as for Grace, I fear she has taken the
+disappointment grievously to heart.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I hope not!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Isabel writes to my sister Mattie that Grace is looking thin
+and pale and has lost her appetite, and she thinks the mother
+is getting uneasy about her; and I cannot help worrying
+myself about it, and thinking how all this might have been
+averted.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think you are wrong in that,&#8221; was the unexpected answer.
+&#8220;When one has acted rightly to the very best of one&#8217;s
+power, it is of no use worrying about consequences.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How do you mean?&#8221; asked Archie, very much surprised
+at the decided tone in which Nan spoke. He had thought her
+too soft in manners to possess much energy and determination
+of character; but he was mistaken.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It would be far worse if your sister had not recognized her
+duty and refused to remain at home. One cannot find happiness
+if one moves out of one&#8217;s allotted niche; but of course you
+know all this better than I, being a clergyman. And, oh! how
+beautifully you spoke to us last Sunday!&#8221; finished Nan, remembering
+all at once that she was usurping his place and preaching
+a little sermon of her own.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never mind that,&#8221; he replied, impatiently: &#8220;tell me what
+you mean. There is something behind your speech: you think
+I am wrong in pitying poor Grace so much?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;If you ask me so plainly, I must say yes, though perhaps I
+am not competent to judge; but, from what you tell me, I
+think you ought not to pity her at all. She is fulfilling her
+destiny. Is she not doing the work given her to do? and what
+can any girl want more? You should trust your mother, I
+think, Mr. Drummond; for she would not willingly overwork
+her. Mothers are mothers: you need not be afraid,&#8221; said Nan,
+looking up in her clear honest way.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you; you have taken a weight off my mind,&#8221; returned
+Archie, more moved by this than he cared to own. That last
+speech had gone home: he must trust his mother. In a moment
+scales seemed to fall from the young man&#8217;s eyes as he walked
+along gravely, and silently by Nan. &#8220;Why, what manner of
+girls could these be?&#8221; he thought; &#8220;frolicsome as kittens, and
+yet possessing the wisdom of mature womanhood?&#8221; And those
+few simple words of Nan abided long with him.</p>
+<p>What if he and Grace were making a mistake, and there
+was no hardship in her case at all, but only clear duty, and a
+most high privilege, as Nan hinted? What if his mother were
+right, and only they were wrong?</p>
+<p>The idea was salutary, but hardly pleasant; for he had
+certainly aided and abetted Grace in her discontent, and had
+doubtless increased her repinings at her dull surroundings.
+Surely Grace&#8217;s talents had been given her for a purpose; else
+why was she so much cleverer than the others,&mdash;so gifted with
+womanly accomplishments? And that clear head of hers,&mdash;she
+had a genius for teaching, he had never denied that. Was his
+mother, a sensible large-sighted woman in her way, to be
+secretly condemned as a tyrant, and wanting in maternal tenderness
+for Grace, because she had made use of this gifted daughter
+for the good of her other children, and had refused to part with
+her at Archie&#8217;s request?</p>
+<p>Archie began to feel uncomfortable, for conscience was waxing
+warm within him; and there had been a grieved hurt tone
+in his mother&#8217;s letters of late, as though she had felt herself
+neglected by him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mothers are mothers: you need not be afraid,&#8221; Nan had
+said, with simple wholesome faith in the instincts of motherhood;
+and the words had come home to him with the strongest
+power.</p>
+<p>His poor harassed mother,&mdash;what a hard life hers had been!
+Archie began to feel his heart quite tender towards her; perhaps
+she was a little severe and exacting with the girls, but they
+none of them understood her in the least, &#8220;for her bark was
+always worse than her bite,&#8221; thought Archie; and girls, at least
+the generality of them, are sometimes aggravating.</p>
+<p>He thought of the weary times she must have had with his
+father,&mdash;for Mr. Drummond could make himself disagreeable
+to his wife when things went wrong with him, and the sullen
+fortitude with which he bore his reversal of fortune gave small
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span>
+opening to her tenderness; the very way in which he shirked
+all domestic responsibilities, leaving on her shoulders the whole
+weight of the domestic machinery and all the home-management,
+had hardened and embittered her.</p>
+<p>A large family and small means, little support from her husband,&mdash;who
+interfered less and less with domestic matters,&mdash;all
+this had no doubt fostered the arbitrary will that governed the
+Drummond household. If her husband had only kept her in
+check,&mdash;if he had supported her authority, and not left her to
+stand alone,&mdash;she would have been, not a better woman, for
+Archie knew his mother was good, but she would have been softer
+and more lovable, and her children would have seen deeper into
+her heart.</p>
+<p>Some such thoughts as these passed through Archie&#8217;s mind
+as he walked beside Nan; but he worked them out more carefully
+when he was alone that night. Just before they reached
+the Friary, he had started another subject; for, turning to
+Phillis and Dulce, whom he had hitherto ignored, he asked
+them whether he might enroll one or all of them among his
+Sunday-school teachers.</p>
+<p>Phillis&#8217;s eyes sparkled at this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Nan, how delightful! it will remind us of Oldfield.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed:&#8221; chimed in Dulce, who had left her infant-class
+with regret; but, to their surprise, Nan demurred.</p>
+<p>&#8220;At Oldfield things were very different,&#8221; she said, decidedly:
+&#8220;we played all the week, and it was no hardship to teach the
+dear children on Sunday; but now we shall have to work so
+hard that we shall be glad of one day&#8217;s rest.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But surely you might spare us one hour or two in the afternoon?&#8221;
+returned Archie, putting on what Grace called &#8220;his
+clerical face.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;In the afternoons mother will be glad of our company, and
+sometimes we shall indulge in a walk. No, Mr. Drummond,
+our week-days are too full of work, and we shall need all the rest
+we can get on Sunday.&#8221; And, with a smile, Nan dismissed the
+subject.</p>
+<p>Phillis spoke regretfully of it when he had left them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It would have been so nice,&#8221; she pleaded; but Nan was
+inexorable.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You can go if you like, Phil; but I think mother is entitled
+to that one afternoon in the week, and I will not consent to any
+parish work on that account; and then I am sure we shall often
+be so tired.&#8221; And Nan&#8217;s good sense, as usual, carried the
+day.</p>
+<p>After that they all grouped round the window in the little
+parlor, and repeated to their mother every word of their conversation
+with Mr. Drummond.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner grew alarmed and tearful in a moment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my darlings, promise me to be more careful for the
+future!&#8221; she pleaded. &#8220;Of course it was only fun, Phillis
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span>
+and he will not think anything of it. Still, in a strange place,
+where no one knows you&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dulce and I will never run a race again, I think I can
+promise you that,&#8221; replied Phillis, very grimly, who felt that
+&#8220;Bravo, Atalanta!&#8221; would haunt her in her dreams.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And&mdash;and I would not walk about with Mr. Drummond,
+though he is our clergyman and a very gentlemanly person.
+People might talk: and in your position, my poor dears&#8221;&mdash;Mrs.
+Challoner hesitated, for she was very nice in her scruples, and
+not for worlds would she have hinted to her daughters that Mr.
+Drummond was young and unmarried, and a very handsome
+man in the bargain: &#8220;You see, I cannot always be with you,
+and, as you have to work for your living, and cannot be
+guarded like other girls, you have all the more need to be circumspect.
+You don&#8217;t think me over strict, do you, darlings?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, dear mother, you are perfectly right,&#8221; returned Nan,
+kissing her. &#8220;I knew how you would feel, and so we came
+home directly to get rid of him: it would never do for the vicar
+of the parish to be seen walking about with dressmakers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t, Nan!&#8221; exclaimed Phillis, with a shudder. Nevertheless,
+as she turned away she remembered how she had enjoyed
+that walk down the Braidwood Road that very morning,
+when he offered to carry home Mrs. Trimmings&#8217;s dress and she
+would not let him.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXV_MATTIES_NEW_DRESS' id='CHAPTER_XXV_MATTIES_NEW_DRESS'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXV.</h2>
+<h3>MATTIE&#8217;S NEW DRESS.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>The remainder of the week passed harmlessly and without
+any special event to mark it, and, thanks to Nan&#8217;s skilful management
+and Phillis&#8217;s pride, there were no further <i>contretemps</i>
+to shock Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s sense of propriety. The work progressed
+with astonishing rapidity: in the mornings the young
+dressmakers were sufficiently brisk and full of zeal, and in the
+afternoons, when their energies flagged and their fingers grew
+weary, Dulce would sing over her task, or Mrs. Challoner would
+read to them for the hour together; but, notwithstanding the
+interest of the tale, there was always great alacrity manifested
+when the tea-bell gave them the excuse for putting away their
+work.</p>
+<p>On one or two evenings they gardened, and Mrs. Challoner
+sat under the mulberry-tree and watched them; on another
+occasion they took a long country walk, and lost themselves, and
+came back merry and tired, and laden with primrose-roots and
+ferns: they had met no one, except a stray laborer,&mdash;had seen
+glow-worms, picked wild flowers, and declared themselves
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span>
+mightily refreshed. One evening Phillis, who was not to be
+repressed, contrived a new amusement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Life is either a mill-pond or a whirlpool,&#8221; she said, rather
+sententiously: &#8220;we have been stagnant for three days, and I
+begin to feel flat. Races are tabooed: besides, we cannot always
+leave mother alone. I propose we go out in the garden and
+have a game of battledore and shuttlecock;&#8221; for this had been
+a winter pastime with them at the cottage.</p>
+<p>Nan, who was always rather sober-minded now, demurred to
+this. She would have preferred gardening a little, or sitting
+quietly with her mother under the mulberry-tree; but Phillis,
+who was in a wild mood, overruled all her objections, and by and
+by the battle began, and the shuttlecocks flew through the air.</p>
+<p>The week&#8217;s work was finished, and the three dresses lay in
+their wrappers, waiting for Dorothy to convey them to their
+several owners. Nan who was really an <i>artiste</i> at heart, had
+called her mother proudly into the room to admire the result of
+their labors. Mrs. Challoner was far too accustomed to her
+daughter&#8217;s skilfulness to testify any surprise, but she at once
+pronounced Miss Drummond&#8217;s dress the <i>chef-d&#8217;&oelig;uvre</i>. Nan&#8217;s
+taste was faultless; and the trimmings she had selected harmonized
+so well with the soft tints of the silk.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They are all very nice; and Mrs. Trimmings will be charmed
+with her blue silk,&#8221; observed Mrs. Challoner, trying to throw a
+little interest into her voice, and to suppress a sigh; and then
+she helped Nan to adjust the wrappers, and to pin the neatly-written
+bills inside each.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sure that is business-like,&#8221; said Nan, with a satisfied
+nod, for she never could do anything by halves; and she was
+so interested in her work that she would have been heart-broken
+if she thought one of the dresses would be a misfit; and then it
+was that Phillis, who had been watching her very closely,
+brightened up and proposed a game.</p>
+<p>It was a very pretty sight, the mother thought, as she
+followed her girls&#8217; movements; the young figures swayed so
+gracefully as they skimmed hither and thither over the lawn
+with light butterfly movements, the three eager faces upturned
+in the evening light, their heads held well back.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Two hundred, two hundred and one, two hundred and two&mdash;don&#8217;t
+let it drop, Dulce!&#8221; panted Phillis, breathlessly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my darlings, don&#8217;t tire yourselves!&#8221; exclaimed Mrs.
+Challoner, as her eyes followed the white flutter of the shuttlecocks.</p>
+<p>This was the picture that Mr. Drummond surveyed. Dorothy,
+who was just starting on her round, and was in no mood for her
+errand, had admitted him somewhat churlishly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, the mistress and the young ladies were in; and would
+he step into the parlor, as her hands were full?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, I know the way,&#8221; Mr. Drummond had returned,
+quite undaunted by the old woman&#8217;s sour looks.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span></p>
+<p>But the parlor was empty, save for Laddie, who had been
+shut up there not to spoil sport, and who was whining most
+piteously to be let out. He saluted Archie with a joyous bark,
+and commenced licking his boots and wagging his tail with
+mute petition to be released from this durance vile.</p>
+<p>Archie patted and fondled him, for he was good to all dumb
+creatures.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor little fellow! I wonder why they have shut you up
+here?&#8221; he said; and then he took him up in his arms, and
+stepped to the window to reconnoitre.</p>
+<p>And then he stood and looked, perfectly fascinated by the
+novel sight. His sisters played battledore and shuttlecock in
+the school-room sometimes, or out in the passages on a winter&#8217;s
+afternoon. He had once caught Susie and Clara at it, and had
+laughed at them in no measured terms for indulging in such a
+babyish game. &#8220;I should have thought Dottie might have
+played at that,&#8221; he had said, rather contemptuously. &#8220;I suppose
+you indulge in skipping-ropes sometimes.&#8221; And the poor
+girls had paused in their game, feeling ashamed of themselves.
+Archie would think them such hoydens.</p>
+<p>He remembered his reprimand with a strange feeling of compunction,
+as he stood by the window trying vainly to elude
+Laddie&#8217;s caresses. What a shame of him to have spoiled those
+poor children&#8217;s game with his sneer, when they had so little fun
+in their lives! and yet, as he recalled Clara&#8217;s clumsy gestures
+and Susie&#8217;s short-sighted attempts, he was obliged to confess
+that battledore and shuttlecock wore a different aspect now.
+Could anything surpass Phillis&#8217;s swift-handed movements,
+brisk, graceful, alert, or Nan&#8217;s attitude, as she sustained the
+duel? Dulce, who seemed dodging in between them in a most
+eccentric way, had her hair loose as usual, curling in brown
+lengths about her shoulders. She held it with one hand, as she
+poised her battledore with the other. This time Archie thought
+of Nausicaa and her maidens tossing the ball beside the river,
+after washing the wedding-garments. Was it in this way the
+young dressmakers disported themselves during the evenings?</p>
+<p>It was Phillis who first discovered the intruder. The shuttlecocks
+had become entangled, and fallen to the ground. As she
+stooped to pick them up, her quick eyes detected a coat-sleeve
+at the window; and an indefinable instinct, for she could not
+see his face, made her call out,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother, Mr. Drummond is in the parlor. Do go to him,
+while Dulce puts up her hair.&#8221; And then she said, severely, &#8220;I
+always tell you not to wear your hair like that, Dulce. Look at
+Nan and me; we are quite unruffled; but yours is always
+coming down. If you have pretty hair, you need not call
+people&#8217;s attention to it in this way.&#8221; At which speech Dulce
+tossed her head and ran away, too much offended to answer.</p>
+<p>When Archie saw Mrs. Challoner crossing the lawn with the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span>
+gait of a queen, he knew he was discovered: so he opened the
+window, and stepped out in the coolest possible way.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I seem always spoiling sport,&#8221; he said, with a mischievous
+glance at Phillis, which she received with outward coolness and
+an inward twinge. &#8220;Bravo, Atalanta!&#8221; sounded in her ears
+again. &#8220;Your maid invited me in; but I did not care to disturb
+you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am glad you did not open the window before,&#8221; returned
+Nan, speaking with that directness and fine simplicity that
+always put things to rights at once: &#8220;it would have startled us
+before we got to the five hundred, and then Phillis would have
+been disappointed. Mother, shall we bring out some more chairs
+instead of going into the parlor? It is so much pleasanter out
+here.&#8221; And as Mrs. Challoner assented, they were soon comfortably
+established on the tiny lawn; and Archie, very much
+at his ease, and feeling himself unaccountably happy, proceeded
+to deliver some trifling message from his sister, that was his
+ostensible reason for his intrusion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why does she not deliver her messages herself?&#8221; thought
+Phillis; but she kept this remark to herself. Only, that evening
+she watched the young clergyman a little closely, as though he
+puzzled her. Phillis was the man of the family; and it was she
+who always stood upon guard if Nan or Dulce needed a sentinel.
+She was beginning to think Mr. Drummond came very often to
+see them, considering their short acquaintance. If it were Miss
+Mattie, now, who ran in and out with little offerings of flowers
+and fruit in a nice neighborly fashion! But for this very dignified
+young man to burden himself with these slight feminine
+messages,&mdash;a question about new-laid eggs, which even Nan had
+forgotten.</p>
+<p>Phillis was quite glad when her mother said,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You ought to have brought your sister, Mr. Drummond: she
+must be so dull all alone,&#8221;&mdash;forgetting all about the dressmaking,
+poor soul! but Phillis remembered it a moment afterwards,
+with a rush of bitter feeling.</p>
+<p>Perhaps, after all, that was why he came in so often, because
+he was so sorry for them, and wished to help them, as he said.
+A clergyman has more privileges than other men: perhaps she
+was wrong to suspect him. He might not wish his sister to
+visit them, except in a purely business-like way; but with him
+it was different. Most likely he had tea with Mrs. Trimmings
+sometimes, just to show he was not proud; he might even sit
+and chat with Mrs. Squails, and not feel compromised in the
+least. Oh, yes! how stupid she was to think he admired Nan,
+because she had intercepted a certain glance! That was her
+mania, thinking every one must be after Nan. Things were
+different now.</p>
+<p>Of course he would be their only link with civilized society,&mdash;the
+only cultivated mind with which they could hold converse;
+and here Phillis ceased to curl her lip, and her gray eyes
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span>
+took a sombre shade, and she sighed so audibly that Archie
+broke off an interesting discussion on last Commemoration, and
+looked at her in unfeigned surprise.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes! we were there,&#8221; returned Nan, innocently, who
+loved to talk of those dear old times; &#8220;and we were at the <i>f&ecirc;te</i>
+at Oriel, and at the concert at Magdalen also. Ah! do you remember,
+Dulce?&#8221; And then she faltered a little, and flushed,&mdash;not
+because Mr. Drummond was looking at her so intently
+but at certain thoughts that began to intrude themselves, which
+entwined themselves with the moonlighted cloisters.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was to have been there too, only at the last moment I was
+prevented,&#8221; replied Archie; but his tone was inexplicable to the
+girl, it was at once so regretful and awe-struck. Good heavens!
+if he had met them, and been introduced to them in proper form!
+They had mentioned a Mr. Hamilton: well, Hamilton had been
+a pupil of his; he had coached him during a term. &#8220;You know
+Hamilton?&#8221; he had said, staring at her; and then he wondered
+what Hamilton would say if he came down to stay with him
+next vacation.</p>
+<p>These reflections made him rather absent; and even when he
+took his leave, which was not until the falling dews and the
+glimmer of a late dusk drove Mrs. Challoner into the house,
+these thoughts still pursued him. Nothing else seemed to have
+taken so strong a hold on him as this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good heavens!&#8221; he kept repeating to himself, &#8220;to think
+that the merest chance&mdash;just the incidental business of a friend&mdash;prevented
+me from occupying my old rooms during Commemoration!
+to think I might have met them in company with
+Hamilton and the other fellows!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The sudden sense of disappointment, of something lost and
+irremediable in his life, of wasted opportunities, of denied pleasure,
+came over the young man&#8217;s mind. He could not have
+danced with Nan at the University ball, it is true: clergymen,
+according to his creed, must not dance. But there was the <i>f&ecirc;te</i>
+at Oriel, and the Magdalen concert, and the Long Walk in the
+Christchurch meadows, and doubtless other opportunities.</p>
+<p>He never asked himself if these girls would have interested
+him so much if he had met them first in ordinary society:
+from the very first moment they had attracted him strangely.
+Had he only known them a fortnight? Good heavens! it
+seemed months, years, a lifetime! These revolutions of mind
+are not to be measured by time. It had come to this that the
+late fellow of Oriel, so aristocratic in his tastes, so temperate in
+his likings, had entered certain devious paths, where hidden
+pitfalls and thorny enclosures warn the unwary traveller of
+unknown dangers, and in which he was walking, not blindfold,
+but by strongest will and intent, led by impulse like a mere boy,
+and not daring to raise his eyes to the future. &#8220;And what
+Grace would have said!&#8221; And for the first time in his life Archie
+felt that in this case he could not ask Grace&#8217;s advice. He was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span>
+loath to turn in at his own gate; but Mattie was standing there
+watching for him. She ran out into the road to meet him, and
+then he could see there were letters in her hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear, Archie, I thought you were never coming home!&#8221;
+she exclaimed. &#8220;And I have such news to tell you! There is
+a letter for you from Grace, and mother has written to me; and
+there is a note from Isabel inside, and she is engaged&mdash;really
+and truly engaged&mdash;to Mr. Ellis Burton; and the wedding is to
+be in six weeks, and you and I are to go down to it, and&mdash;oh,
+dear&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; Here Mattie broke down, and began to sob with excitement
+and pleasure and the longing for sympathy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, well, there is nothing to cry about!&#8221; returned Archie,
+roughly; and then his manner changed and softened in spite of
+himself; for after all, Isabel was his sister, and this was the
+first wedding in the family, and he could not hear such a piece
+of news unmoved. &#8220;Let me hear all about it,&#8221; he said, by and
+by; and then he took poor hysterical little Mattie into the
+house, and gave her some wine, and was very kind to her, and
+listened to his mother&#8217;s letter and Isabel&#8217;s gushing effusion without
+a single sneer. &#8220;Poor little Belle; she does seem very
+happy!&#8221; he said, quite affectionately, as he turned up the lamp
+still more, and began Grace&#8217;s letter.</p>
+<p>Mattie sat and gazed at him in a sort of ecstasy; but she did
+not venture to ask him to read it to her. How nice he was to-night,
+and how handsome he looked! there never was such a
+brother as Archie. But suddenly, as though he was conscious
+of being watched, he sat down by the table, and shaded his face
+with his hand.</p>
+<p>No, Mattie, was right in her surmise: he would not have cared
+to show that letter to any one.</p>
+<p>The first sheet was all about Isabel. &#8220;Dear little Isabel has
+just left me,&#8221; wrote Grace. &#8220;The child looks so pretty in her
+new happiness, you would hardly know her. She has just been
+showing me the magnificent hoop of diamonds Ellis has given
+her. She says we must all call him Ellis now. &#8216;Chacun a son
+gout:&#8217; Poor Ellis is not very brilliant, certainly: I remember we
+used to call him clownish and uncultivated. But he has a good
+heart, and he is really very fond of Isabel; and as she is satisfied,
+I suppose we need not doubt the wisdom of her choice.
+Mother is radiant, and makes so much of the little bride-elect
+that she declares her head is quite turned. The house is quite
+topsy-turvy with the excitement of this first wedding in the
+family. Isabel is very young to be married, and I tell mother
+six weeks is far too short for an engagement; but it seems Ellis
+will not listen to reason, and he has talked mother over.
+Perhaps I am rather fastidious, but, if I were Isabel, I should
+hate to receive my trousseau from my lover; and yet Ellis wants
+his mother to get everything for his <i>fiancee</i>. I believe there is
+to be a sort of compromise, and Mrs. Burton is to select heaps
+of pretty things,&mdash;dresses and mantles and Paris bonnets. They
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span>
+are rolling in riches. Ellis has taken a large house in Sloane
+Square, and his father has bought him a landau and a splendid
+pair of horses; everything&mdash;furniture, plate and ornaments&mdash;is
+to be as massive and expensive as possible. If I were Isabel I
+should feel smothered by all these grand things but the little
+lady takes it all quite coolly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;When I get a moment to myself I sit down and say, &#8216;In six
+weeks I shall see Archie!&#8217; Oh, my darling! this is almost too
+good news to be true! Only six weeks, and then I shall really
+see you! Now do you know, I am longing for a good clearing-up
+talk? for your letters lately have not satisfied me at all.
+Perhaps I am growing fanciful, but I cannot help feeling as
+though something has come between us. The current of sympathy
+seems turned aside, somehow. No, do not laugh, or put
+me off with a jest, for I am really in earnest; and but for fear
+of your scolding me I should own to being just a little unhappy.
+Forgive me, Archie, if I vex you; but there is something, I am
+thoroughly convinced of that. You have some new interest or
+worry that you are keeping from me. Is this quite in accordance
+with our old compact, dear? Who are these Challoners
+Mattie mentions in her letters? She told me a strange rigmarole
+about them the other day,&mdash;that they were young ladies who
+had turned dressmakers. What an eccentric idea! They
+must be very odd young ladies, I should think, to emancipate
+themselves so completely from all conventionalities. I wish
+they had not established themselves at Hadleigh and so near the
+vicarage. Mattie says you are so kind to them. Oh, Archie!
+dear brother! do be careful! I do not half like the idea of these
+girls; they sound rash and designing, and you are so chivalrous
+in your notions. Why not let Mattie be kind to them instead of
+you? In a parish like Hadleigh you need to be careful. Mother
+is calling me, so I will just close this with my fondest love.</p>
+<p style='margin-left:0.0em; margin-right:0.0em; text-align:right'>&#8220;<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Grace.</span>&#8221;<br /></p>
+<p>Archie threw down the letter with a frown. For the first time
+he was annoyed with Grace.</p>
+<p>Nan and her sisters rash and designing! &#8220;Odd young ladies&#8221;!
+She was sorry they had established themselves at Hadleigh!
+It was really too bad of Grace to condemn them in this fashion.
+But of course it must be Mattie&#8217;s fault: she had written a pack
+of nonsense, exaggerating things as much as possible.</p>
+<p>Poor Mattie would have had to bear the brunt of his wrath
+as usual, only, as he turned to her with the frown black on his
+forehead, his eyes caught sight of her dress. Hitherto the
+room had been very dimly lighted; but now, as he looked at
+her in the soft lamplight, his anger vanished in amazement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, Mattie, what have you done to yourself? We are
+not expecting company this evening: it is nearly ten o&#8217;clock.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mattie blushed and laughed, and then she actually bridled
+with pleasure:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, Archie; of course not. I only put on my new dress
+just to see how it would fit; and then I thought you might like
+to see it. It is the one uncle gave me; and is it not beautifully
+made? I am sure Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s dresses never fit better. You
+and Grace may say what you like about the Challoners, but if
+they can make dresses like this, it would be tempting Providence
+not to use such a talent, and just because they were too fine
+ladies to work.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do believe you are right, Mattie,&#8221; returned Archie, in a
+low voice. &#8220;Turn round and let me look at you, girl. Do you
+mean&mdash;that she&mdash;that they made that?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mattie nodded as she slowly pivoted on one foot, and then revolved
+like the figures one used to see on old-fashioned barrel-organs;
+then, as she stood still, she panted out the words,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is it not just lovely, Archie?&#8221; for in all the thirty years of
+her unassuming life Mattie had never had such a dress, so no
+wonder her head was a little turned.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed; I like it excessively,&#8221; was Archie&#8217;s comment;
+and then he added, with the delicious frankness common to
+brothers, &#8220;It makes you look quite a different person, Mattie:
+you are almost nice-looking to-night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, thank you, dear!&#8221; cried poor Mattie, quite moved by
+this compliment; for if Archie thought her almost nice-looking
+he must be pleased with her. Indeed, she even ventured to raise
+herself on tiptoe and kiss him in gratitude, which was taking a
+great liberty; only Archie bore it for once.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She really looked very well, poor little woman!&#8221; thought
+Archie, when Mattie had at last exhausted her raptures and
+bidden him good-night. &#8220;She would not be half so bad-looking
+if some one would take her in hand and dress her properly.
+The women must be right, after all, and there is a power in
+dress. Those girls do nothing by halves,&#8221; he continued, walking
+up and down the room. &#8220;I would not have believed they
+had made it, if Mattie had not told me. &#8216;Rash and designing,&#8217;
+indeed! just because they are not like other girls,&mdash;because they
+are more natural, more industrious, more courageous, more
+religious in fact.&#8221; And then the young clergyman softly quoted
+to himself the words of the wise old king, words that Nan and
+her sisters had ever loved and sought to practise:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Whatsoever thy hands findeth to do, do it with thy
+might.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXVI_OH_YOU_ARE_PROUD' id='CHAPTER_XXVI_OH_YOU_ARE_PROUD'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;OH, YOU ARE PROUD!&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>On the following Monday morning, Nan said in rather a
+curious voice to Phillis,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If no customers call to-day, our work-room will be empty.
+I wonder what we shall do with ourselves?&#8221;</p>
+<p>To which Phillis replied, without a moment&#8217;s hesitation,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We will go down and bathe, and Dulce and I will have a
+swimming-match; and after that we will sit on the beach and
+quiz the people. Most likely there will be a troupe of colored
+minstrels on the Parade, and that will be fun.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I hope no one will come!&#8221; observed Dulce, overjoyed
+at the idea of a holiday; but, seeing Nan&#8217;s face was full of
+rebuke at this outburst of frivolity, she said no more.</p>
+<p>It was decided at last that they should wait for an hour to
+see if any orders arrived, and after that they would consider
+themselves at liberty to amuse themselves for the remainder of
+the day. But, alas for Dulce&#8217;s hopes! long before the appointed
+hour had expired, the gate-bell rang, and Miss Drummond
+made her appearance with a large paper parcel, which she
+deposited on the table with a radiant face.</p>
+<p>The story was soon told. Her silk dress was such a success,
+and dear Archie was so charmed with it&mdash;here Mattie, with a
+blush, deposited a neatly-sealed little packet in Nan&#8217;s hand&mdash;that
+he had actually proposed that she should have another
+gown made after the same pattern for every-day wear. And
+he had taken her himself directly after breakfast down to Mordant&#8217;s,
+and had chosen her this dress. He had never done such
+a thing before, even for Grace: so no wonder Mattie was in the
+seventh heaven of delight.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is very pretty,&#8221; observed Nan, critically: &#8220;your brother
+has good taste.&#8221; Which speech was of course retailed to
+Archie.</p>
+<p>Mattie had only just left the cottage, when another customer
+appeared in the person of Miss Middleton.</p>
+<p>Nan, who had just begun her cutting-out, met her with a
+pleased glance of recognition, and then, remembering her errand,
+bowed rather gravely. But Miss Middleton, after a moment&#8217;s
+hesitation, held out her hand.</p>
+<p>She had not been able to make up her mind about these girls.
+Her father&#8217;s shocked sense of decorum, and her own old-fashioned
+gentlewoman&#8217;s idea, had raised certain difficulties in her
+mind, which she had found it hard to overcome. &#8220;Recollect,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span>
+Elizabeth, I will not have those girls brought here,&#8221; the colonel
+had said to her that very morning. &#8220;They may be all
+very well in their way, but I have changed my opinion of them.
+There&#8217;s poor Drummond: now mark my words, there will be
+trouble by and by in that quarter.&#8221; For Colonel Middleton had
+groaned in spirit ever since the morning he had seen the young
+vicar walking with Phillis down the Braidwood Road, when she
+was carrying Mrs. Trimmings&#8217;s dress. Elizabeth answered this
+gentle protest by one of her gentle smiles. &#8220;Very well, dear
+father: I will ask no one to Brooklyn against your wish, you
+may be sure of that; but I suppose they may make my new
+dress? Mattie&#8217;s has been such a success; they certainly understand
+their business.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have a right to select your own dressmaker, Elizabeth,&#8221;
+returned the colonel, with a frigid wave of his hand, for
+he had not got over his disappointment about the girls. &#8220;I
+only warn you because you are very quixotic in your notions;
+but we must take the world as we find it, and make the best of
+it; and there is your brother coming home by and by. We
+must be careful, for Hammond&#8217;s sake.&#8221; And, as Elizabeth&#8217;s
+good sense owned the justice of her father&#8217;s remark, there was
+nothing more said on the subject.</p>
+<p>But it was not without a feeling of embarrassment that Miss
+Middleton entered the cottage: her great heart was yearning
+over these girls, whom she was compelled to keep at a distance.
+True, her father was right, Hammond was coming home, and a
+young officer of seven-and-twenty was not to be trusted where
+three pretty girls were concerned: it would never do to invite
+them to Brooklyn or to make too much of them. Miss Middleton
+had ranged herself completely on her father&#8217;s side, but at
+the sight of Nan&#8217;s sweet face and her grave little bow she forgot
+all her prudent resolutions, and her hand was held out as
+though to an equal.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have come to ask you if you will be good enough to make
+me a dress,&#8221; she said, with a charming smile. &#8220;You have
+succeeded so well with Miss Drummond that I cannot help
+wishing to have one too.&#8221; And when she had said this she
+looked quietly round her, and surveyed the pretty work-room,
+and Dulce sitting at the sewing-machine, and lastly Phillis&#8217;s
+bright, intelligent face, as she stood by the table turning over
+some fashion-books.</p>
+<p>At that moment Mrs. Challoner entered the room with her
+little work-basket, and placed herself at the other window.
+Miss Middleton began talking to her at once, while Nan measured
+and pinned.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think I ever spent a pleasanter half-hour,&#8221; she told
+her father afterwards. &#8220;Mattie was right in what she said:
+they have made the work-room perfectly lovely with pictures
+and old china: and nothing could be nicer than their manners,&mdash;so
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span>
+simple and unassuming, yet with a touch of independence
+too.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And the old lady?&#8221; inquired the colonel, maliciously, for
+he had seen Mrs. Challoner in church, and knew better than to
+speak of her so disrespectfully.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Old lady, father! why, she is not old at all. She is an exceedingly
+pleasing person, only a little stately in her manner;
+one would not venture to take a liberty with her. We had such
+a nice talk while the eldest daughter was fitting me. Is it not
+strange, father dear, that they know the Paines? and Mrs.
+Sartoris is an old acquaintance of theirs. I think they were a
+little sorry when they heard we knew them too, for the second
+girl colored up so when I said Adelaide was your goddaughter.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Humph? we will have Adelaide down here, and hear all
+about them,&#8221; responded her father, briskly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I don&#8217;t know; I am afraid that would be painful to
+them, under their changed circumstances. Just as we were
+talking about Adelaide, Miss Mewlstone came in; and then they
+were so busy that I did not like to stay any longer. Ah, there
+is Mr. Drummond coming to interrupt us, as usual.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And then the colonel retailed all this for Archie&#8217;s benefit.
+He had come in to glean a crumb or two of intelligence, if he
+could, about the Challoners&#8217; movements, and the colonel&#8217;s garrulity
+furnished him with a rich harvest.</p>
+<p>Phillis had taken Miss Mewlstone in hand at once in the
+intervals of business: she had inquired casually after Mrs.
+Cheyne&#8217;s injured ankle.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is going on well: she can stand now,&#8221; returned Miss
+Mewlstone. &#8220;The confinement has been very trying for her,
+poor thing, and she looks sadly the worse for it. Don&#8217;t take
+out those pins, my dear: what is the good of taking so much
+pains with a fat old thing like me and pricking your pretty
+fingers? Well, she is always asking me if I have seen any of
+you when I come home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Cheyne asks after us!&#8221; exclaimed Phillis, in a tone
+of astonishment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, just so. She has not forgotten you. Magdalene never
+forgets any one in whom she takes interest; not that she likes
+many people, poor dear! but then so few understand her.
+They will not believe that it is all on the surface, and that there
+is a good heart underneath.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You call her Magdalene,&#8221; observed Phillis, rather curiously,
+looking up into Miss Mewlstone&#8217;s placid face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, just so; I forgot. You see, I knew her as a child,&mdash;oh,
+such a wee toddling mite! younger than dear little Janie. I
+remember her just as though it were yesterday; the loveliest
+little creature,&mdash;prettier even than Janie!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Was Janie the child who died?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, the darling! She was just three years old; a perfect
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span>
+angel of a child! and Bertie was a year older. Poor Magdalene!
+it is no wonder she is as she is,&mdash;no husband and children!
+When she sent for me I came at once, though I knew how it
+would be.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You knew how it would be?&#8221; repeated Phillis, in a questioning
+voice, for Miss Mewlstone had come to a full stop here.
+She looked a little confused at this repetition of her words.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, just so&mdash;just so. Thank you, my dear. You have
+done that beautifully, I am sure. Never mind what an old
+woman says. When people are in trouble like that, they are
+often ill to live with. Magdalene has her moods; so have we
+all, my dear, though you are too young to know that; but no
+one understands her better than her old Bathsheba; that is my
+name, and a funny old name too, is it not?&#8221; continued Miss
+Mewlstone, blinking at Phillis with her little blue eyes. &#8220;The
+worst of having such a name is that no one will use it; even
+father and mother called me Barby, as Magdalene does sometimes
+still.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Bathsheba Mewlstone! Phillis&#8217;s lip curled with suppressed
+amusement. What a droll old thing she was! and yet she
+liked her, somehow.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If she takes it into her head to come and see you, you
+will try and put up with her sharp speeches?&#8221; continued Miss
+Mewlstone, a little anxiously, as she tied on her bonnet. &#8220;Mr.
+Drummond does not understand her at all: and I will not deny
+that she is hard on the poor young man, and makes fun of him
+a bit; but, bless you, it is only her way! She torments herself
+and other people, just because time will not pass quickly enough
+and let her forget. If we had children ourselves we should
+understand it better, and how in Ramah there must be lamentation,&#8221;
+finished Miss Mewlstone, with a vague and peculiar reference
+to the martyred innocents which was rather inexplicable to
+Phillis, as in this case there was certainly no Herod, but an
+ordinary visitation of Providence; but then she did not know
+that Miss Mewlstone was often a little vague.</p>
+<p>After this hint, Phillis was not greatly surprised when, one
+morning, a pair of gray ponies stopped before the Friary, and
+Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s tall figure came slowly up the flagged path.</p>
+<p>It must be owned that Phillis&#8217;s first feelings were not wholly
+pleasurable. Nan had gone out: an invalid lady staying at
+Seaview Cottage had sent for a dressmaker rather hurriedly,
+and Miss Milner had of course recommended them. Nan had
+gone at once, and, as Dulce looked pale, she had taken her with
+her for a walk. They might not be back for another hour; and
+a <i>tete-a-tete</i> with Mrs. Cheyne after their last interview was
+rather formidable.</p>
+<p>Dorothy preceded her with a parcel, which she deposited
+rather gingerly on the table. As Mrs. Cheyne entered the room
+she looked at Phillis in a cool, off-hand manner.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am come on business,&#8221; she said with a little nod. &#8220;How
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span>
+do you do, Miss Challoner? You are looking rather pale, I
+think.&#8221; And then her keen glance travelled round the room.</p>
+<p>The girl flushed a little over this abruptness, but she did not
+lose her courage.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is this the dress?&#8221; she asked, opening the parcel; but her
+fingers would tremble a little, in spite of her will. And then,
+as the rich folds of the black brocade came into view, she asked,
+in a business-like tone, in what style Mrs. Cheyne would wish
+it made, and how soon she required it. To all of which Mrs.
+Cheyne responded in the same dry, curt manner; and then the
+usual process of fitting began.</p>
+<p>Never had her task seemed so tedious and distasteful to Phillis.
+Even Mrs. Trimmings was preferable to this: she hardly ventured
+to raise her eyes, for fear of meeting Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s cold,
+satirical glance; and yet all the time she knew she was being
+watched. Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s vigilant silence meant something.</p>
+<p>If only her mother would come in! but she was shelling
+peas for Dorothy. To think Nan should have failed her on such
+an occasion! even Dulce would have been a comfort, though
+she was so easily frightened. She started almost nervously
+when Mrs. Cheyne at last broke the silence:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, you are decidedly paler,&mdash;a little thinner, I think, and
+that after only a fortnight&#8217;s work.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis looked up a little indignantly at this; but she found
+Mrs. Cheyne was regarding her not unkindly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am well enough,&#8221; she returned, rather ungraciously; &#8220;but
+we are not used to so much confinement and the weather is hot.
+We shall grow accustomed to it in time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You think restlessness is so easily subdued?&#8221; with a sneer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; but I believe it can be controlled,&#8221; replied poor Phillis,
+who suffered more than any one guessed from this restraint on
+her sweet freedom.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne was right: even in this short time she was certainly
+paler and thinner.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You mean to persevere, then, in your moral suicide?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We mean to persevere in our duty,&#8221; corrected Phillis, as
+she pinned up a sleeve.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Rather a high moral tone for a dressmaker to take: don&#8217;t
+you think so?&#8221; returned Mrs. Cheyne, in the voice Archie
+hated. The woman certainly had a double nature: there was
+a twist in her somewhere.</p>
+<p>This was too much for Phillis: she fired up in a moment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why should not dressmakers take a high moral tone?
+You make me feel glad I am one when you talk like that.
+This is our ambition,&mdash;Nan&#8217;s and mine, for Dulce is too young to
+think much about it,&mdash;to show by our example that there is no
+degradation in work. Oh, it is hard! First Mr. Drummond
+comes, and talks to us as though we were doing wrong; and,
+then you, to cry down our honest labor, and call it suicide!
+Is it suicide to work with these hands, that God has made
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span>
+clever, for my mother?&#8221; cried Phillis; and her great gray eyes
+filled up with sudden tears.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne did not look displeased at the girl&#8217;s outburst.
+If she had led up to this point, she could not have received it
+more calmly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, there! you need not excite yourself, child!&#8221; she
+said, more gently. &#8220;I only wanted to know what you would
+say. So Miss Mewlstone has been to you, I hear?&mdash;and Miss
+Middleton, too? but that&#8217;s her benevolence. Of course Miss
+Mattie comes out of curiosity. How I do detest a fussy woman,
+with a tongue that chatters faster than a purling brook!
+What do you say? No harm in her?&#8221; for Phillis had muttered
+something to this effect. &#8220;Oh, that is negative praise! I like
+people to have a little harm in them: it is so much more amusing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I cannot say I am of your opinion,&#8221; returned Phillis, coldly:
+she was rather ashamed of her fit of enthusiasm, and cross in
+consequence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear, I always thought Lucifer must have been rather
+an interesting person.&#8221; Then, as Phillis looked scandalized,
+and drew herself up, she said, in a funny voice, &#8220;Now, don&#8217;t
+tell your mother what I said, or she will think me an improper
+character; and I want to be introduced to her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You want to be introduced to my mother!&#8221; Phillis could
+hardly believe her ears. Certainly Mrs. Cheyne was a most
+inexplicable person.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dressmakers don&#8217;t often have mothers, do they?&#8221; returned
+Mrs. Cheyne, with a laugh; &#8220;at least, they are never on view.
+I suppose they are in the back premises doing something?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Shelling peas, for example,&#8221; replied Phillis, roused to mischief
+by this: &#8220;that is mother&#8217;s work this morning. Dorothy
+is old and single-handed, and needs all the help we can give
+her. Oh, yes! I will take you to her at once.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Indeed you must not, if it will inconvenience her!&#8221; returned
+Mrs. Cheyne, drawing back a little at this. She was full of
+curiosity to see the mother of these singular girls, but she did
+not wish to have her illusion too roughly dispelled; and the
+notion of Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s homely employment grated a little on
+the feelings of the fine lady who had never done anything useful
+in her life.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, nothing puts mother out!&#8221; returned Phillis, in an indifferent
+tone. The old spirit of fun was waking up in her, and
+she led the way promptly to the parlor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother, Mrs. Cheyne wishes to see you,&#8221; she announced,
+in a most matter-of-fact voice, as though that lady were a daily
+visitor.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner looked up in a little surprise. One of Dorothy&#8217;s
+rough aprons was tied over her nice black gown, and the
+yellow earthenware bowl was on her lap. Phillis took up some
+of the green pods, and began playing with them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you excuse my rising?&mdash;you see my employment,&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span>
+observed Mrs. Challoner, with a smile that was almost as
+charming as Nan&#8217;s; and she held out a white soft hand to her
+visitor.</p>
+<p>The perfect ease of her manner, the absence of all flurry, produced
+an instant effect on Mrs. Cheyne. For a moment she
+stood as though at a loss to explain her intrusion; but the next
+minute one of her rare sunshiny smiles crossed her face:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I must seem impertinent; but your daughters have interested
+me so much that I was anxious to see their mother.
+But I ought to apologize for disturbing you so early.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not at all; all hours are the same to me. We are always
+glad to see our friends: are we not, Phillis? My dear, I wish you
+would carry these away to Dorothy and ask her to finish them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no! pray do nothing of the kind,&#8221; returned Mrs. Cheyne,
+eagerly. &#8220;You must not punish me in this way. Let me help
+you. Indeed, I am sure I can, if I only tried.&#8221; And, to Phillis&#8217;s
+intense amusement, Mrs. Cheyne drew off her delicate French
+gloves, and in another moment both ladies were seated close together,
+shelling peas into the same pan, and talking as though
+they had known each other for years.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, it was too delicious!&#8221; exclaimed Phillis, when she had
+retailed this interview for Nan&#8217;s and Dulce&#8217;s benefit. &#8220;I knew
+mother would behave beautifully. If I had taken the Princess
+of Wales in to see her, she would not have had a word of apology
+for her apron, though it was a horrid coarse thing of Dorothy&#8217;s.
+She would just have smiled at her, as she did at Mrs. Cheyne.
+Mother&#8217;s behavior is always lovely.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Darling old mammie!&#8221; put in Dulce, rapturously, at this
+point.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I made some excuse and left them together, because I could
+see Mrs. Cheyne was dying to get rid of me; and I&#8217;m always
+amiable, and like to please people. Oh, it was the funniest sight,
+I assure you!&mdash;Mrs. Cheyne with her long fingers blazing with
+diamond rings, and the peas rolling down her silk dress; and
+mother just going on with her business in her quiet way. Oh,
+I had such a laugh when I was back in the work-room!&#8221;</p>
+<p>It cost Phillis some trouble to be properly demure when Mrs.
+Cheyne came into the work-room some time afterwards in search
+of her. Perhaps her mischievous eyes betrayed her, for Mrs.
+Cheyne shook her head at her in pretended rebuke:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, I see; you will persist in treating things like a comedy.
+Well, that is better than putting on tragedy airs and making
+yourselves miserable. Now I have seen your mother, I am not
+quite so puzzled.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Indeed!&#8221; and Phillis fixed her eyes innocently on Mrs.
+Cheyne&#8217;s face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; but I am not going to make you vain by telling you
+what I think of her: indiscriminate praise is not wholesome.
+Now, when are you coming to see me?&mdash;that is the point in
+question.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Dorothy will bring home your dress on Saturday,&#8221; replied
+Phillis, a little dryly. &#8220;If it requires alteration, perhaps you
+will let me know, and of course I will come up to the White
+House at any time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But I do not mean to wait for that. You are misunderstanding
+me purposely, Miss Challoner. I want you to come and
+talk to me one evening,&mdash;any evening. No one but Miss
+Mewlstone will be there.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no!&#8221; responded Phillis, suddenly turning very red:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not think that would do at all, Mrs. Cheyne. I do not
+mean to be rude or ungrateful for your kindness, but&mdash;but&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;
+Here the girl stammered and broke down.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You wish, then, to confine our intercourse to a purely business
+relation?&#8221; asked Mrs. Cheyne, and her voice had a tone of
+the old bitterness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Would it not be better under the circumstances? Forgive
+me if I am too proud, but&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you are proud, terribly proud!&#8221; returned Mrs. Cheyne,
+taking up her words before she could complete her sentence.
+&#8220;You owe me a grudge for what I said that night, and now you
+are making me pay the penalty. Well, I am not meek: there
+is not a human being living to whom I would sue for friendship.
+If I were starving for a kind word, I would sooner die than ask
+for one. You see, I am proud too, Miss Challoner.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I did not mean to hurt you,&#8221; returned Phillis, distressed
+at this, but determined not to yield an inch or bend to the sudden
+caprice of this extraordinary woman, who had made her
+suffer so once.</p>
+<p>&#8220;To be hurt, one must have feelings,&#8221; returned this singular
+person. &#8220;Do not be afraid, I shall not attempt to shake your
+resolution: if you come to me now it must be of your own free
+will.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And if I come, what then?&#8221; asked Phillis, standing very
+straight and stiff, for she would not be patronized.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you come you will be welcome,&#8221; returned Mrs. Cheyne;
+and then, with a grave inclination of the head, she swept out of
+the room.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXVII_A_DARK_HOUR' id='CHAPTER_XXVII_A_DARK_HOUR'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2>
+<h3>A DARK HOUR.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>&#8220;I should go one evening, if I were you: it is easy to see
+that Mrs. Cheyne has taken a fancy to you,&#8221; said Nan, who
+was much interested by this recital; but to this Phillis replied,
+with a very decided shake of the head,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall do nothing of the kind; I was not made to be a fine
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span>
+lady&#8217;s <i>protegee</i>. If she patronized me, I should grow savage
+and show my teeth; and, as I have no desire to break the peace,
+we had better remain strangers. Dear Magdalene certainly has
+a temper!&#8221; finished Phillis, with a wicked little sneer.</p>
+<p>Nan tried to combat this resolution, and used a great many
+arguments: she was anxious that Phillis should avail herself of
+this sudden fancy on the part of Mrs. Cheyne to lift herself and
+perhaps all of them into society with their equals. Nan&#8217;s good
+sense told her that though at present the novelty and excitement
+of their position prevented them from realizing the full
+extent of their isolation, in time it must weigh on them very
+heavily, and especially on Phillis, who was bright and clever
+and liked society; but all her words were powerless against
+Phillis&#8217;s stubbornness: to the White House she could not and
+would not go.</p>
+<p>But one evening she changed her mind very suddenly, when
+a note from Miss Mewlstone reached her. A gardener&#8217;s boy
+brought it: &#8220;it was very particular, and was to be delivered
+immediate to the young lady,&#8221; he observed, holding the missive
+between a very grimy finger and thumb.</p>
+<p>&#8220;<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>My dear young lady</span>,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pride is all very well, but charity is often best in the long
+run, and a little kindness to a suffering human being is never
+out of place in a young creature like you.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor Magdalene has been very sadly for days, and I have
+got it into my stupid old head&mdash;that is always fancying things&mdash;that
+she has been watching for folks who have been too proud
+to come, though she would die sooner than tell me so; but that
+is her way, poor dear!</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is ill to wake at nights with nothing but sad thoughts for
+company, and it is ill wearing out the long days with only a
+silly old body to cheer one up; and when there is nothing fresh
+to say, and nothing to expect, and not a footstep or a voice to
+break the silence, then it seems to me that a young voice&mdash;that
+is, a kind voice&mdash;would be welcome. Take this hint, my dear,
+and keep my counsel, for I am only a silly old woman, as she
+often says.</p>
+<p style='margin-left:0.0em; margin-right:0.0em; text-align:right'><span style='margin-right: 3.125em;'>&#8220;Yours,</span><br />
+<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Bathsheba Mewlstone.</span>&#8221;<br /></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I must go now!&#8221; observed Phillis, in an embarrassed
+voice, as she laid this singular note before Nan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, dear; and you had better put on your hat at once, and
+Dulce and I will walk with you as far as the gate. It is sad for
+you to miss the scramble on the shore; but, when other people
+really want us, I feel as though it were a direct call,&#8221; finished
+Nan, solemnly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid there is a storm coming up,&#8221; replied Phillis,
+who had been oppressed all day by the heavy thundery atmosphere:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span>
+she had looked so heated and weary that Nan had proposed
+a walk by the shore. Work was pouring upon them from
+all sides: the townspeople, envious of Mrs. Trimmings&#8217;s stylish
+new dress, were besieging the Friary with orders, and the young
+dressmakers would have been literally overwhelmed with their
+labors, only that Nan, with admirable foresight, insisted on
+taking in no more work than they felt themselves able to complete.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; she would say to some disappointed customer, &#8220;our
+hands are full just now, and we cannot undertake any more
+orders at present: we will not promise more than we can perform.
+Come to me again in a fortnight&#8217;s time, and we will
+willingly make your dress, but now it is impossible.&#8221; And in
+most cases the dress was brought punctually at the time
+appointed.</p>
+<p>Phillis used to grumble a little at this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You ought not to refuse orders, Nan,&#8221; she said, rather
+fretfully, once. &#8220;Any other dressmaker would sit up half the
+night rather than disappoint a customer.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear,&#8221; Nan returned, in her elder-sisterly voice, which
+had always a great effect on Phillis, &#8220;I wonder what use
+Dulce and you would be if you sat up sewing half the night,
+and drinking strong tea to keep yourselves awake? No, there
+shall be no burning the candles at both ends in this fashion;
+please God we will keep our health, and our customers; and
+no one in their senses could call us idle. Why, we are quite the
+fashion! Mrs. Squails told me yesterday that every one in
+Hadleigh was wild to have a gown made by the &#8216;lady dressmakers.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I daresay!&#8221; replied Phillis, crossly, for the poor thing
+was so hot and tired that she could have cried from pure weariness
+and vexation of spirit: &#8220;but we shall not be the fashion
+long when the novelty wears off; people will call us independent,
+and get tired of us; and no wonder, if they are to wait for
+their dresses in this way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan&#8217;s only answer was to look at Phillis&#8217;s pale face in a pitying
+way; and then she took her hand, and led her to the corner,
+where her mother&#8217;s Bible always lay, and then with ready
+fingers turned to the well known-passage, &#8220;Man goeth forth
+unto his work and to his labor unto the evening.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, Nan, what then?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Evening is for rest,&mdash;for refreshment of mind and body: I
+will not have it turned into a time of toil. I know you, Phillis;
+you would work till your poor fingers got thin, and your spirits
+were all flattened out, and every nerve was jarring and set on
+edge; and you would call that duty! No, darling,&mdash;never!
+Dulce shall keep her roses, and we will have battledore and
+shuttlecock every evening; but, if I have to keep the key of
+the work-room in my pocket, you and Dulce shall never enter
+it after tea.&#8221; And Nan&#8217;s good sense, as usual, carried the day.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span></p>
+<p>Phillis would much rather have joined her sisters in their
+walk than have turned in at the gloomy lodge-gates.</p>
+<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>
+&#8220;&#8216;All ye who enter here, leave hope behind,&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<p>she quoted, softly, as she waved her hand to Nan.</p>
+<p>The servant who admitted her looked a little dubious over
+his errand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;His mistress was in her room,&#8221; he believed, &#8220;and was far
+too unwell to see visitors. He would tell Miss Mewlstone, if
+the young lady liked to wait; but he was sure it was no use,&#8221;&mdash;all
+very civilly said. And as Phillis persisted in her intention
+of seeing Mrs. Cheyne, if possible, he ushered her into the
+library, a gloomy-looking room, with closed blinds, one of which
+he drew up, and then went in search of Miss Mewlstone.</p>
+<p>Phillis did not find her surroundings particularly cheerful.
+The air was darkened by the approaching storm. A sullen
+cloud hung over the sky. The library windows opened upon
+the shrubberies. Here the trees were planted so thickly that
+their shade obscured much of the light. The room was so dark
+that she could only dimly discern the handsome bindings of the
+books in the carved oak book-cases. The whole of the furniture
+seemed sombre and massive. The chair that the footman
+had placed for her was covered with violet velvet, and was in
+harmony with the rest of the furniture.</p>
+<p>Dreary as the room looked, it was nothing to the shrubbery
+walk. A narrow winding path seemed to vanish into utter
+darkness. In some places the trees met overhead, so closely
+had they grown.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If I were the mistress of the White House,&#8221; Phillis said to
+herself, &#8220;I would cut every one of those trees down. They
+must make this part of the house quite unhealthy. It really
+looks like a &#8216;ghost walk&#8217; that one reads about.&#8221; But scarcely
+had these thoughts passed through her mind when she uttered a
+faint cry of alarm. The dark room, the impending storm, and
+her own overwrought feelings were making her nervous; but
+actually, through the gloom, she could see a figure in white
+approaching.</p>
+<p>In another moment she would have sought refuge in the hall,
+but contempt at her own cowardice kept her rooted to the spot.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She was an utter goose to be so startled! It was&mdash;yes, of
+course it was Mrs. Cheyne. She could see her more plainly
+now. She would step through the window and meet her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis&#8217;s feelings of uneasiness had not quite vanished. The
+obscurity was confusing, and invested everything with an unnatural
+effect. Even Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s figure, coming out from
+the dark background, seemed strange and unfamiliar. Phillis
+had always before seen her in black; but now she wore a white
+gown, fashioned loosely, like a wrapper, and her hair, which
+at other times had been most carefully arranged, was now
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span>
+strained tightly and unbecomingly from her face, which looked
+pallid and drawn. She started violently when she saw Phillis
+coming towards her, and seemed inclined to draw back and
+retrace her steps. It evidently cost her a strong effort to recover
+herself. She seemed to conquer her reluctance with difficulty.</p>
+<p>&#8220;So you have come at last, Miss Challoner,&#8221; she said, fixing
+her eyes, which looked unnaturally bright, on Phillis. Her
+voice was cold, almost harsh, and her countenance expressed
+no pleasure. The hand she held out was so limp and cold that
+Phillis relinquished it hastily.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You said that I should be welcome,&#8221; she faltered, and trying
+not to appear alarmed. She was too young and healthy to
+understand the meaning of the word hysteria, or to guess at
+the existence of nervous maladies that make some people&#8217;s lives
+a long torment to them. Nevertheless, Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s singular
+aspect filled her with vague fear. It did not enter into her mind
+to connect the coming storm with Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s condition, until
+she hinted at it herself.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, you are welcome,&#8221; she responded, wearily. &#8220;I
+have looked for you evening after evening, but you chose to come
+with the storm. It is a pity, perhaps; but then you did not
+know!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What would you have me know?&#8221; asked Phillis, timidly.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne shrugged her shoulders a little flightily.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you are young!&#8221; she returned; &#8220;you do not understand
+what nerves mean; you sleep sweetly of a night, and
+have no bad dreams: it does not matter to you happy people
+if the air is full of sunshine or surcharged with electricity.
+For me, when the sun ceases to shine I am in despair. Fogs
+find me brooding. An impending storm suffocates me, and yet
+tears me to pieces with restlessness: it drives me hither and
+thither like a fallen leaf. I tire myself that I may sleep, and
+yet I stare open-eyed for hours together into the darkness. I
+wonder sometimes I do not go mad. But there! let us walk&mdash;let
+us walk.&#8221; And she made a movement to retrace her steps;
+but Phillis, with a courage for which she commended herself
+afterwards, pulled her back by her hanging sleeves.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, not there! it is not good for any one who is sad to walk
+in that dark place. No wonder your thoughts are sombre. Look!
+the heavy rain-drops are pattering among the leaves. I do not care
+to get wet: let us go back to the house.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pshaw! what does it matter getting wet?&#8221; she returned,
+with a little scorn; but nevertheless she suffered Phillis to take
+her arm and draw her gently towards the house. Only as they
+came near the library window, she pointed to it indignantly.
+&#8220;Who has dared to enter that room, or open the window!
+Have I not forbidden over and over again that that room should
+be used? Do you think,&#8221; she continued, in the same excited
+way, &#8220;that I would enter that room to-night of all nights!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span>
+Why, I should hear his angry voice pealing in every corner!
+It was a good room for echoes; and he could speak loudly if he
+chose. Come away! there is a door I always use that leads to
+my private apartments. I am no recluse; but in these moods
+I do not care to show myself to people. If you are not afraid,
+you may come with me, unless you prefer Miss Mewlstone&#8217;s
+company.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I would rather go with you,&#8221; returned Phillis, gently.
+She could not in truth say she was not afraid; but all the same
+she must try and soothe the poor creature who was evidently
+enduring such torments of mind: so she followed in silence up
+the broad oak staircase.</p>
+<p>A green-baize door admitted them into a long and somewhat
+narrow corridor, lighted up by a row of high narrow windows
+set prettily with flower-boxes. Here there were several doors.
+Mrs. Cheyne paused before one a moment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look here! you shall see the mysteries of the west wing.
+This is my world; downstairs I am a different creature&mdash;taciturn,
+harsh, and prone to sarcasm. Ask Mr. Drummond what
+he thinks of me; but I never could endure a good young man&mdash;especially
+that delicious compound of the worldling and the
+saint&mdash;like the Reverend Archibald. See here, my dear: here I
+am never captious or say naughty things!&#8221;</p>
+<p>She threw open the door, and softly beckoned to Phillis to
+enter. It was a large empty room,&mdash;evidently a nursery. Some
+canaries were twittering faintly in a gilded cage. There were
+flowers in the two windows, and in the vases on the table:
+evidently some loving hands had arranged them that very
+morning. A large rocking-horse occupied the centre of the
+floor: a doll lay with its face downwards on the crimson carpet;
+a pile of wooden soldiers strutted on their zigzag platform,&mdash;one
+or two had fallen off; a torn picture-book had been flung
+beside them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That was my Janie&#8217;s picture-book,&#8221; said Mrs. Cheyne,
+mournfully: &#8220;she was teaching her doll out of it just before she
+was taken ill. Nothing was touched; by a sort of inspiration,&mdash;a
+foreboding,&mdash;I do not know what,&mdash;I bade nurse leave the
+toys as they were. &#8216;It is only an interrupted game: let the
+darlings find their toys as they put them,&#8217; I said to her that
+morning. Look at the soldiers, Bertie was always for soldiers,&mdash;bless
+him!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Her manner had grown calmer; and she spoke with such touching
+tenderness that tears came to Phillis&#8217;s eyes. But Mrs.
+Cheyne never once looked at the girl; she lingered by the table
+a moment, adjusting a leaf here and a bud there in the bouquets,
+and then she opened an inner door leading to the night-nursery.
+Here the associations were still more harrowing. The cots
+stood side by side under a muslin canopy, with an alabaster
+angel between them; the little night-dresses lay folded on the
+pillows; on each quilt were the scarlet dressing-gown and the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span>
+pair of tiny slippers; the clothes were piled neatly on two
+chairs,&mdash;a boy&#8217;s velvet tunic on one, a girl&#8217;s white frock, a little
+limp and discolored, hung over the rails of the other.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Everything just the same,&#8221; murmured the poor mother.
+&#8220;Look here, my dear,&#8221;&mdash;with a faint smile&mdash;&#8220;these are Bertie&#8217;s
+slippers: there is the hole he kicked in them when he was in
+his tempers, for my boy had the Cheyne temper. He was Herbert&#8217;s
+image,&mdash;his very image.&#8221; She sighed, paused, and went
+on: &#8220;Every night I come and sit beside their beds, and then
+the darlings come to me. I can see their faces&mdash;oh, so plainly!&mdash;and
+hear their voices. &#8216;Good-night, dear mamma!&#8217; they
+seem to say to me, only Bertie&#8217;s voice is always the louder.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Her manner was becoming a little excited again; only Phillis
+took her hand and pressed it gently, and the touch seemed to
+soothe her like magic.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am so glad you come here every night,&#8221; she said, in her
+sweet, serious voice, from which every trace of fear had gone.
+&#8220;I think that a beautiful idea, to come and say your prayers
+beside one of these little beds.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;To say my prayers!&mdash;I pray beside my darlings&#8217; beds!&#8221; exclaimed
+Mrs. Cheyne, in a startled voice. &#8220;Oh no! I never do
+that. God would not hear such prayers as mine,&mdash;never&mdash;never!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear Mrs. Cheyne, why not?&#8221; She moved restlessly away
+at the question, and tried to disengage herself from Phillis&#8217;s firm
+grasp. &#8220;The Divine Father hears all prayers,&#8221; whispered the
+girl.</p>
+<p>&#8220;All?&mdash;but not mine,&mdash;not mine, or I should not be sitting
+here alone. Do you know my husband left me in anger,&mdash;that
+his last words to me were the bitterest he ever spoke? &#8216;Good-by,
+Magdalene: you have made my life so wretched that I do
+not care if I never live to set foot in this house again!&#8217; And
+that to me,&mdash;his wedded wife, and the mother of his children,&mdash;who
+loved him so. Oh, Herbert! Herbert!&#8221; and, covering
+her face, the unhappy woman suddenly burst into a passion of
+tears.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXVIII_THE_MYSTERIOUS_STRANGER' id='CHAPTER_XXVIII_THE_MYSTERIOUS_STRANGER'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2>
+<h3>THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Phillis kept a sad silence: not for worlds would she have
+checked the flow of tears that must have been so healing to the
+tortured brain. Besides, what was there that she, so young and
+inexperienced, could say in the presence of a grief so terrible,
+so overpowering? The whole thing was inexplicable to Phillis.
+Why were the outworks of conventionality so suddenly thrown
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span>
+down? Why was she, a stranger, permitted to be a witness of
+such a revelation? As she sat there speechless and sympathizing,
+a faint sound reached her ear,&mdash;the rustle of a dress in the
+adjoining room,&mdash;footsteps that approached warily, and then
+paused; a moment afterwards the door closed softly behind
+them. Phillis looked round quickly, but could see nothing;
+and the same instant a peal of thunder rolled over their heads.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne started up with an hysterical scream, and caught
+hold of Phillis. &#8220;Come,&#8221; she said, almost wildly, &#8220;we will not
+stay here. The children will not come to-night, for who could
+hear their voices in such a storm? My little angels!&mdash;but they
+shall not see me like this. Come, come!&#8221; And, taking the
+girl by the arm, she almost dragged her from the room, and led
+the way with rapid and disordered footsteps to a large luxurious
+chamber, furnished evidently as a dressing-room, and only
+divided from the sleeping-room by a curtained archway.</p>
+<p>As Mrs. Cheyne threw herself down in an arm-chair and hid
+her face in her hands, the curtain was drawn back, and Miss
+Mewlstone came in with an anxious, almost frightened expression
+on her good-natured countenance. She hurried up to Mrs.
+Cheyne and took her in her arms as though she were a child.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, Magdalene, now, my dear,&#8221; she said, coaxingly, &#8220;you
+will try to be good and command yourself before this young
+lady. Look at her: she is not a bit afraid of the storm:&mdash;are
+you, Miss Challoner? No, just so; you are far too sensible.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that is what you always tell me,&#8221; returned Mrs.
+Cheyne, wrenching herself free with some violence. &#8220;Be sensible,&mdash;be
+good,&mdash;when I am nearly mad with the oppression and
+suffocation, here, and here,&#8221; pointing to her head and breast.
+&#8220;Commonplaces, commonplaces; as well stop a deluge with a teacup.
+Oh, you are an old fool, Barby: you will never learn
+wisdom.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My poor lamb! Barby never minds one word you say when
+you are like this.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I will beg your pardon to-morrow, or when the thunder
+stops. Hark! there it is again,&#8221; cowering down in her chair.
+&#8220;Can&#8217;t you pray for it to cease, Barby? Oh, it is too horrible!
+Don&#8217;t you recollect the night he rode away,&mdash;right into the
+storm, into the very teeth of the storm? &#8216;Good-bye, Magdalene;
+who knows when we may meet again?&#8217; and I never looked at
+him, never kissed him, never broke the silence by one word;
+and the thunder came, and he was gone,&#8221; beating the air
+with her hands.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, hush, my dear, hush! Let me read to you a little, and
+the fever will soon pass. You are frightening the poor young
+lady with your wild talk, and no wonder!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pshaw! who minds the girl? Let her go or stop; what
+do I care? What is the whole world to me, when I am tormented
+like this? Three years, four years&mdash;more than a thousand
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span>
+days&mdash;of this misery! Oh, Barby! do you think I have
+been punished enough? do you think where he is, up in heaven
+with the children, that he forgives and pities me, who was such
+a bad wife to him?&#8221;</p>
+<p>As Miss Mewlstone paused a moment to wipe the tears that
+were flowing over her old cheeks, Phillis&#8217;s voice came to her
+relief.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, can you doubt it?&#8221; she said, in much agitation. &#8220;Dear
+Mrs. Cheyne, can you have an instant&#8217;s doubt? Do you think
+the dead carry all these paltry earthly feelings into the bright
+place yonder? Forgive you&mdash;oh, there is no need of forgiveness
+there; he will only be loving you,&mdash;he and the children
+too.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;God bless you!&#8221; whispered Miss Mewlstone. &#8220;Hush, that
+is enough! Go, my dear, go, and I will come to you presently.
+Magdalene, put your poor head down here: I have thought of
+something that will do you good.&#8221; She waved Phillis away
+almost impatiently, and laid the poor sufferer&#8217;s head on her
+bosom, shielding it from the flashes that darted through the
+room. Phillis could see her bending over her, and her voice was
+as tender as though she were soothing a sick infant.</p>
+<p>Phillis was trembling with agitation as she stole down the
+dark corridor. Never in her happy young life had she witnessed
+or imagined such a scene. The wild words, the half-maddened
+gestures, the look of agony stamped on the pale,
+almost distorted features, would haunt her for many a day.
+Oh, how the poor soul must have suffered before she lost self-control
+and balance like this!</p>
+<p>It was not the death of her children that had so utterly unnerved
+her. It must have been that bitter parting with her
+husband, and the remembrance of angry words never to be
+atoned for in this life, that was cankering the root of her
+peace, and that brought about these moods of despair.</p>
+<p>Phillis thought of Coleridge&#8217;s lines,&mdash;</p>
+<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>
+&#8220;And to be wroth with one we love<br />
+Doth work like madness on the brain,&#8221;&mdash;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<p>as she took refuge in the dim drawing-room. Here, at least,
+there were signs of human life and occupation. A little tea-table
+had been set in one window, though the tea was cold. The
+greyhounds came and laid their slender noses on her gown, and
+one small Italian one coiled himself up on her lap. Miss Mewlstone&#8217;s
+work-basket stood open, and a tortoise shell kitten had
+helped itself to a ball of wool and was busily unwinding it.
+The dogs were evidently frightened at the storm, for they all
+gathered round Phillis, shivering and whining, as though
+missing their mistress; and she had much ado to comfort
+them, though she loved animals and understood their dumb
+language better than most people.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span></p>
+<p>It was not so very long, and yet it seemed hours before Miss
+Mewlstone came down to her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you here, my dear?&#8221; she asked, in a loud whisper,
+for the room was dark. &#8220;Ah, just so. We must have lights,
+and I must give you a glass of wine or a nice hot cup of coffee.&#8221;
+And, notwithstanding Phillis&#8217;s protest that she never took wine
+and was not in need of anything, Miss Mewlstone rang the bell,
+and desired the footman to bring in the lamp. &#8220;And tell
+Bishop to send up some nice hot coffee and sandwiches as soon
+as possible. For young people never know what they want, and
+you are just worried and tired to death with all you have gone
+through,&mdash;not being an old woman and seasoned to it like me,&#8221;
+went on the good creature, and she patted Phillis&#8217;s cheek encouragingly
+as she spoke.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But how is she? Oh, thank God, the storm has lulled at
+last!&#8221; exclaimed the girl, breathlessly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; the storm is over. We have reason to dread
+storms in this house,&#8221; returned Miss Mewlstone, gravely. &#8220;She
+was quite exhausted, and let Charlotte and me help her to bed.
+Now she has had her composing-draught, and Charlotte will sit
+by her till I go up. I always watch by her all night after one
+of these attacks.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is it a nervous attack?&#8221; asked Phillis, timidly, for she felt
+she was treading on delicate ground.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I believe Dr. Parkes calls it hysteria,&#8221; replied Miss Mewlstone,
+hesitating a little. &#8220;Ah, we have sad times with her.
+You heard what she said, poor dear: she has been sorely
+tried.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Was not her husband good to her, then?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sure he meant to be kind,&#8221; returned Miss Mewlstone,
+sorrowfully, &#8220;for he loved her dearly; but he was passionate
+and masterful, and was one that would have his way. As long
+as it was only courtship, he worshipped the ground she walked
+upon, as the saying is. But poor Magdalene was not a good
+wife. She was cold when she ought to have been caressing,
+stubborn when she might have yielded; and sarcasm never yet
+healed a wound. Ah, here comes your coffee! Thank you,
+Evans. Now, my dear, you must just eat and drink, and put
+some color into those pale cheeks. Scenes like these are not
+good for young creatures like you. But when Magdalene is in
+these moods, she would not care if the whole world listened to
+her. To-morrow she will be herself, and remember and be
+ashamed; and then you must not mind if she be harder and
+colder than ever. She will say bitter things all the more, because
+she is angered at her own want of self-control.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I can understand that: that is just as I should feel,&#8221; returned
+Phillis, shuddering a little at the idea of encountering
+Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s keen-edged sarcasms. &#8220;She will not like to see
+me any more; she will think I had no right to witness such a
+scene.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;It is certainly a pity that I wrote that note,&#8221; returned Mrs.
+Mewlstone, reflectively. &#8220;I hoped that you would turn her
+thoughts, and that we might avert the usual nervous paroxysm.
+When I opened the door and saw you sitting together so peacefully
+beside the children&#8217;s beds, I expected a milder mood; but it
+was the thunder. Poor Magdalene! She has never been able to
+control herself in a storm since the evening Herbert left her,
+and we went in and found her lying insensible in the library,
+in the midst of one of the worst storms I have ever witnessed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That was when he said those cruel words to her!&#8221; ejaculated
+Phillis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes. Did she repeat them? How often I have begged
+her to forget them, and to believe that he repented of them before
+an hour was over! Ah, well! the sting of death lies in
+this: if she had had one word, one little word, she would be a
+different woman, in spite of the children&#8217;s death. God&#8217;s strokes
+are less cruel than men&#8217;s strokes: the reed may be bruised by
+them, but is not broken. She had a long illness after the children
+were gone; it was too much,&mdash;too much for any woman&#8217;s heart
+to bear. You see, she wanted her husband to comfort her.
+Dr. Parkes feared for her brain, but we pulled her through.
+Ah, just so, my dear; we pulled her through!&#8221; finished Miss
+Mewlstone, with a sigh.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, how good you are to her! she is happy to have such a
+friend!&#8221; observed Phillis, enthusiastically.</p>
+<p>Miss Mewlstone shook her head, and a tear rolled down her
+face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my dear, I am only an old fool, as she said just now.
+And, after all, the company of a stupid old woman is not much
+to a proud bonnie creature like that. Sometimes for days together
+she hardly opens her lips to me; we sit together, eat
+together, drive together, and not a word for Barby. But sometimes,
+poor dear! she will cling to me and cry, and say her heart
+is breaking. And Solomon was right: but it was not only a
+brother that is good for adversity. When she wants me, I am
+here, and there is nothing I will not do for her, and she knows
+it;&mdash;and that is about the long and short of it,&#8221; finished Miss
+Mewlstone, dismissing the subject with another sigh. And then
+she bade Phillis finish her coffee and put on her hat. &#8220;For
+your mother will be expecting you, and wondering what has
+become of you; and Phillips or Evans must walk with you,
+for it is past nine o&#8217;clock, and such a pretty young lady must
+not go unattended,&#8221; concluded the simple woman.</p>
+<p>Phillis laughed and kissed her at this; but, though she said
+nothing of her intentions, she determined to dismiss the servant
+as soon as possible, and run on alone to the Friary. She had
+not forgotten her encounter with Mr. Drummond on her last
+visit to the White House; but to-night the storm would keep
+him in-doors.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span></p>
+<p>Evans, the new footman, was desired to escort her; but in
+the middle of the avenue Phillis civilly dismissed him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is no need for two of us to get wet; and the rain is
+coming on very heavily,&#8221; she said.</p>
+<p>The young man hesitated; but he was slow-witted and new
+to his duty, and the young lady had a peremptory way with
+her, so he touched his hat, and went back to the house.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Such nonsense, having a liveried servant at my heels, when
+I am only a dressmaker!&#8221; thought Phillis, scurrying down the
+avenue like a chased rabbit.</p>
+<p>Hitherto, the trees had sheltered her; but a glance at the
+open road and the driving rain made her resolve to take refuge
+in the porch of the cottage that stood opposite the gate. It
+was the place where Nan and her mother had once lodged; and,
+though all the lights were extinguished, and the people had
+retired to bed, she felt a comfortable sense of safety as she
+unlatched the little gate. Not even Mr. Drummond would discover
+her there.</p>
+<p>But Phillis&#8217;s satisfaction was of short duration: the foolish
+girl was soon to repent of her foolhardiness in dismissing her
+escort. She little knew that her words to Evans had been overheard,
+and that behind the dripping shrubbery she had been
+watched and followed. Scarcely had she taken refuge under
+the green porch, and placed her wet umbrella to dry, before she
+heard the latch of the little gate unclosed, and a tall dark figure
+came up the gravel-walk. It was not Isaac Williams&#8217;s portly
+form,&mdash;she could discern that in the darkness,&mdash;and, for the
+moment, a thrill of deadly terror came upon the incautious girl;
+but the next minute her natural courage returned to her aid.
+The porch was just underneath the room where Isaac slept; a
+call of &#8216;help&#8217; would reach him at once; there was no reason for
+this alarm at all. Nevertheless, she shrunk back a little as
+the stranger came directly towards her, then paused as though
+in some embarrassment:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pardon me, but you have poor shelter here. I am Mrs.
+Williams&#8217;s lodger. I could easily let you into the cottage. I
+am afraid the rain comes through the trellis-work.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis&#8217;s heart gave a great thump of relief. In the first place,
+Mrs. Williams&#8217;s lodger must be a respectable person, and no
+dangerous loafer or pickpocket; in the second place the refined
+cultured tones of the stranger pleased her ear. Phillis had a
+craze on this point. &#8220;You may be deceived in a face, but in a
+voice, never!&#8221; she would say; and, as she told Nan afterwards,
+the moment that voice greeted her in the darkness she felt no
+further fear.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have a dry corner here,&#8221; she returned, quietly; &#8220;it is only
+a thunder-shower, and I am close to home,&mdash;only down the road,
+and just round the corner, past the vicarage.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Past the vicarage!&#8221; in a tone of surprise: &#8220;why, there are
+no houses there!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;There is a very small one called the Friary,&#8221; returned
+Phillis, feeling herself color in the darkness, as she mentioned
+their humble abode. There was no answer for a moment, and
+then her mysterious neighbor continued:</p>
+<p>&#8220;My good landlord seems to retire early; the whole place
+looks deserted. They are very early risers, and perhaps that
+is the reason. If you will allow me to pass, I will open the
+door and light a lamp in my little parlor. Even if you prefer
+to remain in the porch, it will look more cheerful.&#8221; And,
+without waiting for her reply, he took a key from his pocket,
+and let himself into the house.</p>
+<p>Their voices had disturbed the owners of the cottage, and
+Phillis overheard the following colloquy:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear sakes alive! what a frightful storm! Is there anything
+you want, Mr. Dancy?&#8221; in Mrs. Williams&#8217;s shrill tones.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not for myself, Mrs. Williams; but there is a young lady
+sheltering in the porch. I should be glad if you could come
+down and make her a little comfortable. The floodgates of
+heaven seem open to-night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear, dear!&#8221; in a still more perplexed voice; &#8220;a young
+lady at this time of night,&mdash;why, it must be half-after nine.
+Very well, Mr. Dancy; beg her to come in and sit in your
+parlor a moment, and I will be down.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But Phillis absolutely refused to comply with the invitation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am not tired, and I am not a bit wet, and I like watching
+the rain. This is a nice little porch, and I have taken
+refuge here before. We all know Mrs. Williams very well.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She is a good creature, if she were not always in a bustle,&#8221;
+returned Mr. Dancy. &#8220;There, the lamp is lighted: that looks
+more comfortable.&#8221; And as he spoke he came out into the little
+hall.</p>
+<p>Phillis stole a curious glance at him.</p>
+<p>He was a tall man, and was dressed somewhat strangely. A
+long foreign-looking cloak and a broad-brimmed felt hat, which
+he had not yet removed, gave him the look of an artist; but,
+except that he had a beard and moustache, and wore blue
+spectacles, she could not gain the slightest clue to his features.
+But his voice,&mdash;it pleased Phillis&#8217;s sensitive ear more every
+moment; it was pleasant,&mdash;rather foreign, too,&mdash;and had a
+sad ring in it.</p>
+<p>He leaned against the wall opposite to her, and looked out
+thoughtfully at the driving rain.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think I saw you coming out from the White House,&#8221; he
+observed presently. &#8220;Are you a friend of Mrs. Cheyne? I
+hope,&#8221; hesitating a little, &#8220;that she is very well.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you know her?&#8221; asked Phillis, in surprise.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That is a very Irish way of answering my question; but
+you shall have your turn first. Yes; I used to know her many
+years ago, and Herbert Cheyne, too.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Her poor husband! Oh! and did you like him?&#8221; rather
+breathlessly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pretty fairly,&#8221; was the indifferent reply. &#8220;People used to
+call him a pleasant fellow, but I never thought much of him
+myself,&mdash;not but what he was more sinned against than sinning,
+poor devil. Anyhow, he paid dearly enough for his faults.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed; and one must always speak leniently of the
+dead.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, that is what they say,&mdash;that he is dead. I suppose
+his widow put on mourning, and made lamentation. She is
+well, you say, and cheerful?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no! neither the one nor the other. I am not her
+friend; I only know her just little; but she strikes me as very
+sad. She has lost her children, and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah!&#8221; Phillis thought she heard a strange sound, almost
+like a groan; but of course it was fancy; and just then good
+Mrs. Williams came bustling downstairs.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear heart! why, if it is not Miss Challoner! To think
+of you, my dear miss, being out so late, and alone! Oh, what
+ever will your ma say?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My mother will scold me, of course,&#8221; returned Phillis,
+laughing; &#8220;but you must not scold me too, Mrs. Williams,
+though I deserve all I get. Mrs. Mewlstone sent Evans with
+me, but I made him go back. Country girls are fearless and it
+is only just a step to the Friary.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The rain is stopping now, if you will permit me to escort
+you. Mrs. Williams will be the voucher for my respectability,&#8221;
+observed Mr. Dancy, very gravely and without a smile; and,
+as Phillis seemed inclined to put him off with an excuse, he continued,
+more seriously: &#8220;Pardon me, but it is far too late, and
+the road far too lonely, for a young lady to go unattended. If
+you prefer it, I will go to the White House, and bring out the
+recreant Evans by force.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no; there is no need for that,&#8221; observed Phillis, hastily;
+and Mrs. Williams interposed volubly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Goodness&#8217; sakes, Miss Challoner, you have no call to be
+afraid of Mr. Dancy! Why, Mr. Frank Blunt, that nice young
+gentleman who lodged with me ever so many years, recommended
+him to me as one of his best and oldest friends. Your
+ma knew Mr. Blunt, for he was here with her, and a nicer-spoken
+young gentleman she said she never saw.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That will do, Mrs. Williams,&#8221; returned Mr. Dancy, in rather
+a peremptory tone; and then, turning to Phillis, he said, more
+civilly, but still a little abruptly, as though he were displeased,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, Miss Challoner, do you feel inclined to trust yourself
+with me for the few hundred yards, or shall I fetch Evans?&#8221;
+And Phillis, feeling herself rebuked, unfurled her umbrella at
+once, and bade Mrs. Williams good-night by way of answer.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXIX_MRS_WILLIAMSS_LODGER' id='CHAPTER_XXIX_MRS_WILLIAMSS_LODGER'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2>
+<h3>MRS. WILLIAMS&#8217;S LODGER.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Phillis felt rather shy and uncomfortable as she picked her
+way warily among the rain-pools in the semi-darkness. Her
+companion was inclined to be silent; most likely he considered
+her churlish in repelling his civil offers of help: so, to make
+amends, and set herself at her ease, she began to talk to him
+with an attempt at her old sprightliness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you know this neighborhood well, Mr. Dancy? Have
+you been long at Ivy Cottage?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Only a few days; but I know the place well enough,&#8221; he
+responded, quietly. &#8220;It depends upon circumstances how
+long I remain here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hadleigh is very quiet,&#8221; returned Phillis, quickly. &#8220;It
+does not offer many attractions to strangers, unless they have
+very moderate views of enjoyment. It is select, and the bathing
+is good, and the country tolerable; but when you have
+said that, you have said all in its favor.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have always liked the place,&#8221; with a checked sigh.
+&#8220;Quiet,&mdash;that is what I want, and rest also. I have been rather
+a wanderer over the face of the earth, and one wants a little
+breathing-time occasionally, to recruit one&#8217;s exhausted energies.
+I like Ivy Cottage, and I like Mrs. Williams: both suit me for
+the present. Are you a visitor to Hadleigh,&mdash;a mere bird of
+passage like myself, Miss Challoner?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear, no: we have come here to live.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And&mdash;and you are intimate with Mrs. Cheyne?&#8221; coming a
+little closer to her side in the darkness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nothing of the kind,&#8221; retorted Phillis: &#8220;we are mere acquaintances.
+I do not feel to know her at all; she is not
+a person with whom one could get intimate all at once; she is
+a little difficult. Besides in our position&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; And here she
+pulled herself up suddenly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pardon me,&#8221; returned Mr. Dancy, in an interested voice,
+&#8220;perhaps I have no right to inquire, but your words are a little
+mysterious. Why should you not be intimate with Mrs.
+Cheyne?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis grew hot in the darkness. What right had he, a perfect
+stranger, to question her so closely? And yet, if he were
+interested in his old friends, perhaps he meant to call at the
+White House, and then he would hear all about them; and
+after all, perfect frankness always answered best in the long
+run. Phillis hesitated so long over her rejoinder that Mr.
+Dancy said, rather apologetically,&mdash;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I see, I have been incautious; but you must not attribute
+my question to impertinent curiosity. I am anxious to learn all
+I can about a very old friend, of whom I have long lost sight,
+and I hoped that you might have been able to satisfy me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Middleton would tell you far more than I.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What! Elizabeth Middleton? Oh, no: she is far too much
+of a saint for me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know her, too!&#8221; exclaimed Phillis, in surprise. &#8220;No,
+I do not think you are curious, Mr. Dancy; it was only a little
+awkward for me to tell you about our acquaintance with Mrs.
+Cheyne. My sister and I rendered her a trifling service, and
+she took a fancy to us, and wished to be friends; but in our
+present position any close intimacy would be impossible, as we
+are only dressmakers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dressmakers!&#8221; It is impossible to describe the genuine
+astonishment, almost dismay, in Mr. Dancy&#8217;s voice. &#8220;Dressmakers!
+Pardon me, Miss Challoner, but when one has seen
+and spoken to a lady like yourself, it is almost incredible.&#8221;</p>
+<p>This put Phillis on her mettle at once, and in a moment she
+laid by all her reserve:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have been a traveller, Mr. Dancy, and must have seen
+strange things by this time: it surely cannot be such a matter
+of surprise that when gentle-people are poor they must work for
+their bread. When one has ten clever fingers, it is better to use
+them than to starve. I am not ashamed of my position; my
+sisters and I are very independent; but, as we do not like to
+cause other people embarrassment, we prefer to lead hermit
+lives.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis&#8217;s silvery tones were rather fierce, but it was well that
+she did not see her companion&#8217;s expression of suppressed
+amusement; there was a little smothered laugh, too, that was
+turned into a cough.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are your sisters young like yourself?&#8221; he asked, rather
+abruptly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, we are all much of an age.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you have parents?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Only one parent,&#8221; she corrected,&mdash;&#8220;a mother. Ah, here
+we are at the Friary! Many thanks for your escort, Mr.
+Dancy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Many thanks for allowing me to escort you,&#8221; he returned,
+pointedly: &#8220;after what you have told me, I esteem it an honor,
+Miss Challoner. No, you have no need to be ashamed of your
+position; I wish more English ladies would follow such a noble
+example. Good-night. I trust we shall meet again.&#8221; And,
+lifting his felt hat, he withdrew, just as Nan appeared on the
+threshold, holding a lamp in her hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You naughty girl, what has kept you so late?&#8221; she asked, as
+Phillis came slowly and meditatively up the flagged path.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hush, Nannie! Have they all gone to bed? Let me come
+into your room and talk to you. Oh, I have had such an evening!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span>
+And thereupon she poured into her sister&#8217;s astonished
+ears the recital of her adventure,&mdash;the storm, the figure in the
+shubbery, the scene in the west corridor, the porch at Ivy Cottage,
+and the arrival of Mrs. Williams&#8217;s mysterious lodger.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Phillis, I shall never trust you out of my sight again!
+How can you be so reckless,&mdash;so incautious? Mother would be
+dreadfully shocked if she knew it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother must not know a single word: promise, Nan. You
+know how nervous she is. I will tell her, if you like, that I took
+refuge from the rain in Mrs. Williams&#8217;s porch, and that her
+lodger walked home with me; but I think it would be better to
+suppress the scene at the White House.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan thought over this a moment, and then she agreed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It would make mother feel uneasy and timid in Mrs.
+Cheyne&#8217;s presence,&#8221; she observed. &#8220;She never likes that sort
+of hysterical attacks. We could not make her understand.
+Poor thing! I hope she is asleep by this time. Shall you go
+to-morrow, Phil, and ask after her?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis made a wry face at this, and owned she had had
+enough adventures to last her for a long time. But she admitted,
+too, that she would be anxious to know how Mrs. Cheyne would
+be.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I suppose I must go and just ask after her,&#8221; she said,
+as she rose rather wearily and lighted her candle. &#8220;There is
+not the least chance of my seeing her. Good-night, Nannie!
+Don&#8217;t let all this keep you awake; but I do not expect to sleep a
+wink myself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Which dismal prophecy was not fulfilled, as Phillis dropped
+into a heavy slumber the moment her head touched the
+pillow.</p>
+<p>But her dreams were hardly pleasant. She thought she was
+walking down the &#8220;ghost&#8217;s walk,&#8221; between the yews and
+cypresses, with Mr. Dancy, and that in the darkest part he
+threw off his cloak and felt hat, and showed the grinning skull
+of a skeleton, while a bony arm tried to seize her. She woke
+moaning with fright, to find Dulce&#8217;s long hair streaming over
+her face, and the birds singing in the sweet breezy dawn; after
+which she fell into a dreamless, refreshing sleep.</p>
+<p>Phillis had to submit to rather a severe reproof from her
+mother, in return for her frankness. Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s prudery
+was up in arms the moment she heard of Mrs. Williams&#8217;s
+lodger.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Williams ought to have come with you herself; but
+a strange man at that time of night!&mdash;what would Mr. Drummond
+have said to you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Whatever Mr. Drummond liked to say!&#8221; returned Phillis,
+pettishly, for this was stroking her already ruffled feelings
+decidedly the wrong way.</p>
+<p>Phillis always turned captious whenever Mr. Drummond
+was mentioned; but she subsided into meekness again when her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span>
+mother fell to crying and bemoaning her hard fate and her
+darlings&#8217; unprotected position.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, what would your dear father have said?&#8221; she cried,
+in such utter misery of tone that Phillis began kissing her, and
+promising that she would never, never be out so late again,
+and that on no account would she walk up the Braidwood Road
+in the evening with a strange man who wore an outlandish cloak
+and a felt hat that only wanted a feather to remind her of Guy
+Fawkes, only Guy Fawkes did not wear blue spectacles.</p>
+<p>When Phillis had at last soothed her mother,&mdash;always a
+lengthy process, for Mrs. Challoner, like other sensitive and
+feeble natures, could only be quieted by much talk,&mdash;she fell to
+her work in vigorous silence; but by a stroke of ill luck, Mr.
+Drummond chose to make another pastoral visitation; and, to
+her secret chagrin, her mother at once repeated the whole
+story.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Williams&#8217;s lodger saw Miss Phillis home! Why, I did
+not know Mrs. Williams had a lodger!&#8221; returned Mr. Drummond,
+in a perplexed voice.</p>
+<p>This made matters worse.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose Mrs. Williams is not bound to let the vicarage
+know directly she lets her rooms?&#8221; observed Phillis, rather impatiently;
+for she was vexed with her mother for repeating all
+this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, of course not; but I was at Ivy Cottage myself yesterday,
+and Mrs. Williams knows I always call on her lodgers, and
+she never mentioned the fellow&#8217;s existence to me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fellow, indeed!&#8221; observed Phillis, <i>sotto voce</i>; for she had a
+vivid remembrance of the stranger&#8217;s commanding presence and
+pleasant voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;When did he come?&#8221; inquired the young vicar, curiously,
+&#8220;He must keep himself pretty close by daylight; for I have
+passed and repassed Ivy Cottage at least half a dozen times a
+day, and have never caught a glimpse of any one;&#8221; to which
+Phillis replied reluctantly that he had not been there long,&mdash;that
+he wanted rest and quiet, and was most likely an invalid.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And his name is Dancy, you say?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis bowed. She was far too much taken up in her work
+to volunteer unnecessary words; and all this maternal fuss and
+fidget was odious to her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I will go and call upon him this very afternoon,&#8221; returned
+Archie, with cheerful alacrity. He had no idea that his
+curiosity on the subject was disagreeable to the girl: so he and
+Mrs. Challoner discussed the matter fully, and at some length.
+&#8220;I don&#8217;t like the description of your mysterious stranger, Miss
+Challoner,&#8221; he said, laughing, as he stood up to take his leave.
+&#8220;When novelists want to paint a villain, they generally bring
+in a long cloak and beard, and sometimes a disguising pair of
+blue spectacles. Well, I will catch him by daylight, and see
+what I can make of him.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;You may disguise a face, but you cannot disguise a voice,&#8221;
+returned Phillis, bluntly. &#8220;I do not want to see Mr. Dancy to
+know he is a gentleman and a true man.&#8221; And this speech,
+that piqued Archie, though he did not know why, made him all
+the more bent on calling on Mrs. Williams&#8217;s lodger.</p>
+<p>But Mr. Drummond&#8217;s curiosity was destined to be baffled.
+Mrs. Williams turned very red when she heard the vicar&#8217;s inquiries.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You never told me you had let your rooms,&#8221; he said, reproachfully;
+&#8220;and yet you know I always make a practice of
+calling on your lodgers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Deed and it is very kind and thoughtful of you, too,&#8221; returned
+the good woman, dropping an old-fashioned courtesy;
+&#8220;and me that prizes my clergyman&#8217;s visits and thinks no end
+of them! But Mr. Dancy he says to me, &#8216;Now, my good Mrs.
+Williams, I have come here for quiet,&mdash;for absolute quiet; and
+I do not want to see or hear of any one. Tell no tales about me,
+and leave me in peace; and then we shall get on together.&#8217; And
+it was more than I ventured to give you the hint, hearing
+him speak so positive; for he is a bit masterful, and no mistake.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, never mind; a clergyman never intrudes, and I will
+thank you to take Mr. Dancy my card,&#8221; returned Archie, impatiently;
+but his look of assurance soon faded when Mrs. Williams
+returned with her lodger&#8217;s compliments, and he was very
+much obliged to Mr. Drummond for his civility, but he did not
+wish to receive visitors.</p>
+<p>Phillis was a little contrary all the remainder of the day:
+she was not exactly cross,&mdash;all the Challoners were sweet-tempered,&mdash;but
+nothing quite suited her. Mrs. Challoner had proposed
+going that evening into the town with her youngest daughter
+to execute some commissions.</p>
+<p>Just before they started Phillis observed rather shortly that
+she should call at the White House to make inquiries after
+Mrs. Cheyne, and that she would came back to the Friary to
+fetch Nan for a country walk. &#8220;If I do not appear in half an
+hour, you must come in search of me,&#8221; finished Phillis, with a
+naughty curl of her lip, to which Nan with admirable tact
+returned no answer, but all the same she fully intended to
+carry out the injunction; for Nan had imbibed her mother&#8217;s
+simple old-fashioned notions, and a lurking dislike of Mrs.
+Williams&#8217;s lodger had already entered her mind.</p>
+<p>As Phillis did not enjoy her errand, she put on the best face
+she could, and hurried down the Braidwood Road as though
+her feet were winged like a female Mercury; and Mr. Dancy,
+who happened to be looking over the wire blind in the little
+parlor, much admired the girl&#8217;s free swift gait as she sped
+down the avenue. Evans, the young footman, admitted her,
+and conducted her at once to the drawing-room; and great was
+Phillis&#8217;s surprise and discomposure when she saw Mrs. Cheyne
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span>
+sitting alone reading by one of the windows, with her greyhounds
+grouped around her.</p>
+<p>She started slightly at the announcement of Phillis&#8217;s name,
+and, as she came forward to greet her, a dark flush crossed her
+face for a moment; then her features settled into their usual
+impassive calm, only there was marked coldness in her voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good-evening. Miss Challoner: you have chosen a fine
+evening for your visit. Let me beg of you never again to venture
+to the White House in such a storm.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis stammered out something about hoping that she was
+better, but she interrupted her almost abruptly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Much better, thank you. I am afraid you found me decidedly
+strange yesterday. I had what people call a nervous attack:
+electricity in the air, a brooding storm, brings it on. It
+is a pity one should be so childish as to dread thunder; but we
+are oddly constituted, some of us.&#8221; She shrugged her shoulders,
+as though to dismiss the subject, and stroked the head of the
+greyhound that lay at her feet.</p>
+<p>Poor Phillis found her position decidedly embarrassing. To
+be sure, Miss Mewlstone had warned her of the reception that
+she might expect; but all the same she found it very unpleasant.
+She must not abridge her visit so much as to excite suspicion;
+and yet it seemed impossible to carry on a comfortable
+conversation with Mrs. Cheyne in this freezing mood, and, as
+Phillis could think of nothing to say, she asked after Miss Mewlstone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, she is very well,&#8221; Mrs. Cheyne answered, indifferently.
+&#8220;Nothing ever ails Barby: she is one of those easy-going people
+who take life as they find it, without fuss and grumbling.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think she is very nice and sympathetic,&#8221; hazarded Phillis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes Miss Mewlstone has a feeling heart,&#8221; returned Mrs.
+Cheyne; but she said it in a sarcastic voice. &#8220;We have all our
+special endowments. Miss Mewlstone is made by nature to be
+a moral feather bed to break other people&#8217;s awkward tumbles.
+She hinders broken bones, and interposes a soft surface of sympathy
+between unlucky folks. There is not much in common
+between us, but all the same old Barby is a sort of necessity to
+me. We are a droll household at the White House, Miss Challoner,
+are we not,&mdash;Barby and the greyhounds and I?&mdash;oh, quite
+a happy family!&#8221; And she gave a short laugh, very much the
+reverse of merriment.</p>
+<p>Phillis began to feel that it was time to go.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, how does the dressmaking progress?&#8221; asked her
+hostess, suddenly. &#8220;Miss Middleton tells me the Challoner fit is
+quite the rage in Hadleigh.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We have more orders than we can execute,&#8221; returned
+Phillis, curtly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Humph! that sounds promising. I hope your mother is
+careful of you, and forbids any expenditure of midnight oil, or
+you will be reduced to a thread-paper. As I have told you you
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span>
+are not the same girl that you were when you came to the relief
+of my injured ankle.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I feel tolerably substantial, thank you,&#8221; returned Phillis,
+ungraciously, for, in common with other girls, she hated to be
+pitied for her looks, and she had a notion that Mrs. Cheyne only
+said this to plague her. &#8220;Nan is our head and task mistress.
+We lead regular lives, have stated hours for work, take
+plenty of exercise and on the whole, are doing as well as possible.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There speaks the Challoner spirit.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; that never fails us. But now Nan will be waiting
+for me, and I only called just to inquire after you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you did not expect to see me. Well, come again when
+I am in a better humor for conversation. If you stay longer
+now I might not be sparing of my sarcasms. By the by, what
+has become of our young vicar? Tell him he has not converted
+me yet, and I quite miss his pastoral visits. Do you know,&#8221;
+looking so keenly at Phillis that she blushed with annoyance,
+&#8220;a little bird tells me that our pastor has undertaken the supervision
+of the Friary. Which is it, my dear, that he is trying to
+convert?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The tone and manner were intolerable to Phillis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t understand you, Mrs. Cheyne,&#8221; she returned, with
+superb youthful haughtiness. &#8220;Mr. Drummond is a kind
+neighbor, and so is Miss Mattie. You may keep these insinuations
+for him, if you will.&#8221; Then she would have escaped without
+another glance at her tormentor, but Mrs. Cheyne detained
+her:</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, never mind. I will take back my naughty speech.
+It was rude and impertinent of me, I know that. But I like
+you all the better for your spirit; and, my dear, take care of
+yourself and your pretty sisters, for he is not worthy of one of
+you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Mrs. Cheyne! for shame!&#8221; And Phillis&#8217;s gray eyes
+sparkled with lively indignation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is a very ordinary good young man; and you and your
+sisters are real metal, and worth your weight in gold. There!
+go away, child; and come and see me again, for it does me
+good to torment you!&#8221; And the singular woman drew the
+girl into her arms suddenly and kissed her forehead, and then
+pushed her away. &#8220;To-morrow, or the next day, but not to-night,&#8221;
+she said, hurriedly. &#8220;I should make you cross fifty
+times if you stay longer to-night.&#8221; And Phillis was too thankful
+to be released to linger any longer; but her cheeks were
+burning as she walked down the avenue.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why do people always put these things into girls&#8217; heads?&#8221;
+she said to herself. &#8220;A young man cannot come into the house,
+cannot say pleasant words, or do kind neighborly actions, but
+one must at once attribute motives of this kind. I have not
+been free from blame myself in this matter, for I have feared
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span>
+more than once that Nan&#8217;s sweet face attracted him,&mdash;poor Mr.
+Drummond! I hope not, for he would not have a chance
+against Dick. I wonder if I ought to say a word?&mdash;if it would
+be premature or unnecessary? But I should hate him to be unhappy,&#8221;&mdash;here
+Phillis sighed, and then threw up her head proudly:
+&#8220;I might say just a word, mentioning Dick,&mdash;for he does
+not know of his existence. I wonder if he would take the hint.
+I could do it very cleverly, I know. I hate to see people burning
+their fingers for nothing: I always want to go to their rescue.
+He is tiresome, but he is very nice. And, heigh-ho!
+what a crooked world we live in!&mdash;nothing goes quite straight
+in it.&#8221; And Phillis sighed again.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Challoner!&#8221; The voice sounded so near her that Phillis
+gave a great start. She had nearly reached the gate, and
+there was Mr. Dancy walking beside her, just as though he had
+emerged from the ground; and yet Phillis had not heard a sound.
+&#8220;Have I startled you?&#8221; he continued, gravely. &#8220;You were
+in such a brown study that I had to call you by your name to
+rouse you. There is nothing wrong at the White House, I
+hope?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no! Mrs. Cheyne is better: her nervous attack has
+quite passed off.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Magdalene suffering from a nervous attack?&#8221; and then Mr.
+Dancy stopped, and bit his lip. &#8220;Excuse me, I knew her before
+she was married, when she was Magdalene Davenport&mdash;before
+she and poor Herbert Cheyne unfortunately came together.
+I doubt whether things have not happened for the best; there!&mdash;I
+mean,&#8221; as Phillis looked at him in some perplexity, &#8220;that
+there is little fear of her being an inconsolable widow.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How can you say such a thing!&#8221; returned Phillis, indignantly.
+&#8220;That is the way with you men, you judge so harshly
+of women. Mrs. Cheyne is singular in her ways. She wears no
+mourning, and yet a more unhappy creature never existed on
+this earth. Not inconsolable!&mdash;and yet no one dares to speak
+a word of comfort to her, so great is her misery.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Excuse me one moment: I have been ill, and am still subject
+to fits of giddiness. A mere vertigo; nothing more.&#8221; But
+he said the words gasping for breath, and looked so deadly
+pale that Phillis felt quite frightened as she stood beside him.</p>
+<p>They had been walking a few steps down the Braidwood Road,
+and Phillis had looked out anxiously for Nan, who had not yet
+appeared in sight. But now Mr. Dancy had come to an abrupt
+pause, and was leaning for support against the low wall that
+shut in the grounds of the White House. Phillis looked at him
+a little curiously, in spite of her sympathy. He still wore his
+loose cloak, though the evening was warm; but he had loosened
+it, and taken off his felt hat for air.</p>
+<p>In figure he was a tall, powerful-looking man, only thin and
+almost emaciated, as though from recent illness. His features
+were handsome, but singularly bronzed and weather-beaten, as
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span>
+though from constant exposure to sun and wind; and even the
+blue spectacles could not hide a pair of keen blue eyes. By
+daylight Phillis could see that his brown beard and moustache
+were tinged with gray, and the hair on the temples was almost
+white; and yet he seemed still in the prime of life. It was a far
+handsomer face than Archie Drummond&#8217;s; but the deep lines
+and gray hair spoke of trouble more than age, and one thing
+especially impressed Phillis,&mdash;the face was as refined as the voice.</p>
+<p>If Mr. Dancy were aware of her close scrutiny, he took no
+notice of it. He leaned his arm against the wall and rested his
+head against it; and the thin brown hand was plainly visible,
+with a deep-red scar just above the wrist.</p>
+<p>As Phillis had regarded it with sudden horror, wondering
+what had inflicted it, he suddenly aroused himself with an
+apology:</p>
+<p>&#8220;There! it has passed: it never lasts long. Shall we walk
+on? I am so ashamed of detaining you in this way; but when
+a man has had a sunstroke&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that is sad!&#8221; returned Phillis, in a sympathizing voice.
+&#8220;Is that why you keep in-doors so much in the daylight? at
+least&#8221;&mdash;correcting herself in haste, for she had spoken without
+thought&mdash;&#8220;one never sees you about,&#8221; which was a foolish
+speech, and showed she took notice of his movements; but she
+could not betray Mr. Drummond.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Some one else only comes out in the evening,&#8221; he rejoined,
+rather pointedly. &#8220;Who told you I kept in-doors in the daylight?
+Oh, I know!&#8221; the frown passing from his face, for he
+had spoken quickly and in annoyed fashion. &#8220;This sounds like
+a parson&#8217;s prating: I know the language of old. By the bye,
+did you set the clergy on my track?&#8221; turning the blue spectacles
+full on the embarrassed Phillis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I?&mdash;no indeed!&#8221; and then she went on frankly: &#8220;Mr.
+Drummond was at our house, and he told us that he always
+called on Mrs. Williams&#8217;s lodgers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;True, Miss Challoner; but how did his reverence know
+Mrs. Williams had a lodger?&#8221;</p>
+<p>This was awkward, but Phillis steered her way through the
+difficulty with her usual dexterity.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I mentioned to my mother that you were kind enough to
+see me home, and she repeated the fact to Mr. Drummond.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, Miss Challanor; now I understand. I wonder
+if your mother would be very shocked if a stranger intruded
+upon her? but you and I must have some more conversation
+together, and I do not see how it is to be managed in accordance
+with what you ladies call <i>les convenances</i>.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My mother&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; began Phillis, demurely; and then she
+paused, and looked up at him in astonishment, &#8220;What, Mr.
+Dancy! you purpose to call on my mother, and yet you refused
+Mr. Drummond&#8217;s visit?&#8221; for the news of Archie&#8217;s defeat had
+already reached the Friary through Miss Mattie.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span></p>
+<p>Mr. Dancy seemed rather nonplussed at this, and then he
+laughed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, you are shrewd, Miss Challoner; there is no deceiving
+you! I have seen Mr. Drummond pass and repass often
+enough; and&mdash;pardon me, if he be a friend&mdash;I thought from the
+cut of his coat that he was prig, and I have a horror of clerical
+prigs.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is not priggish in the least,&#8221; was Phillis&#8217;s annoyed
+rejoinder.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No? Well, appearances are sometimes deceptive: perhaps
+I was too hasty in my dread of being bored. But here comes
+your sister, I think,&mdash;at least, I have seen you together: so I
+am leaving you in good hands.&#8221; And, before Phillis could
+reply, he had lifted his hat and turned away, just as Nan,
+whose vigilant eyes were upon him, was hurrying to join her
+sister.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Phillis, was that Mr. Dancy?&#8221; she asked, in a reproachful
+voice, as she hurried up to her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Nannie, it was Mr. Dancy,&#8221; returned Phillis, composedly;
+&#8220;and I wish I could have introduced him to you, for I
+believe he is coming to call on mother.&#8221; And, when she had
+related this astounding piece of intelligence, she looked in Nan&#8217;s
+face and laughed, and, in high good humor, proceeded to relate
+their conversation.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXX_NOW_WE_UNDERSTAND_EACH_OTHER' id='CHAPTER_XXX_NOW_WE_UNDERSTAND_EACH_OTHER'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXX.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;NOW WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>One fine morning in September, Mr. Drummond was standing
+at the back of Milner&#8217;s Library, turning over the last new assortment
+of books from Mudie, when two gentlemen entered the
+shop.</p>
+<p>Strangers were always interesting to Archie, and he criticised
+them under a twofold aspect&mdash;pastoral and social. In this way
+curiosity becomes a virtue, and a man with a mission is not
+without his interests in life. Hadleigh was Mr. Drummond&#8217;s
+sheep-walk, where he shepherded his lambs, and looked after
+his black sheep and tried to wash them white, or, in default of
+that, at least to make out that their fleece was not so sable after
+all: so he now considered it his duty to leave off turning over
+the pages of a seductive-looking novel, and to inspect the
+strangers.</p>
+<p>They were both dressed in tweed travelling costumes, and
+looked sunburnt, as though they had just returned from a
+walking-tour. The elder was a short wiry man, with a shrewd
+face and quizzical eyes; and he asked in sharp clipping voice
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span>
+that was not free from accent, for the last number of the local
+paper, containing lists of inhabitants, visitors, etc.</p>
+<p>Meanwhile, the younger man walked about the shop, whistling
+softly to himself, as though he had a fund of cheerfulness on
+hand which must find vent somewhere. When he came opposite
+Archie, he took a brief survey of him in a careless, good-humored
+fashion, and then turned on his heel, bestowing a very
+cursory glance on Miss Masham, who stood shaking her black
+ringlets after the fashion of shopwomen, and waiting to know
+the gentleman&#8217;s pleasure.</p>
+<p>No one would have called this young man very good-looking,
+unless such a one had a secret predilection for decidedly reddish
+hair and a sandy moustache; but there was an air of <i>bonhommie</i>,
+of frank kindness, of boyish fun and pleasantry, that attracted
+even strangers, and Archie looked after him with considerable
+interest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oxford cut, father and son: father looks rather a queer
+customer,&#8221; thought Archie to himself.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dick, come here!&mdash;why, where is that fellow?&#8221; suddenly
+exclaimed the elder man, beginning to put on his eye-glasses
+very nervously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Coming, father. All right: what is it?&#8221; returned the
+imperturbable Dick. He was still whistling &#8220;Twickenham
+Ferry&#8221; under his breath, as he came to the counter and leaned
+with both elbows upon it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good gracious, boy, what does this mean?&#8221; went on the
+other, in an irritable perturbed voice; and he read a short
+advertisement, written in a neat lady-like hand: &#8220;Dressmaking
+undertaken. Terms moderate, and all orders promptly
+executed. Apply to&mdash;the Misses Challoner, the Friary, Braidwood
+Road. Ladies waited upon at their own residences&#8217;.
+What the&#8221;&mdash;he was about to add a stronger term, but, in deference
+to Miss Milner, substituted&mdash;&#8220;dickens does this mean,
+Dick?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The young man&#8217;s reply was to snatch the paper out of his
+father&#8217;s hand, and study it intently, with his elbows still on the
+counter, and the last bar of &#8220;Twickenham Ferry&#8221; died away
+uncompleted on his lips; and if any one could have seen his
+face, they would have remarked a curious redness spreading to
+his forehead.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nan&#8217;s handwriting, by Jove!&#8221; he muttered, but still inaudibly;
+and then he stared at the paper, and his face grew
+redder.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, Dick, can&#8217;t you answer? What does this piece of
+tomfoolery mean&mdash;&#8216;dressmaking undertaken&mdash;ladies waited
+upon at their own residences&#8217;? Can there be two families of
+Challoner and two Friaries? and why don&#8217;t you speak and say
+something?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Because I know as little as yourself, father,&#8221; returned the
+young man, without lifting his head; and he surreptitiously
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span>
+conveyed the paper to his pocket. &#8220;Perhaps this lady,&#8221; indicating
+Miss Milner, &#8220;could inform us?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I beg your pardon,&#8221; observed a gentlemanly voice near
+them; and, looking up, Dick found himself confronted by the
+young clergyman. &#8220;I overheard your inquiries, and, as I am
+acquainted with the ladies in question, I may be able to satisfy
+you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should be extremely obliged to you if you would do so,
+sir,&#8221; returned the elder man, with alacrity; but Dick turned
+away rather ungraciously, and his cheerful face grew sullen.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Confound him! what does he mean by his interference?
+Knows them, indeed! such a handsome beggar, too,&mdash;a prig,
+one can see that from the cut of his clothes and beard!&#8221; And
+again he planted his elbows on the counter, and began pulling
+his rough little stubbly moustache.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you are referring to a mother and three daughters who
+live in the Friary and eke out a scanty income by taking in
+dressmaking, I am happy to say I know them well,&#8221; went on
+Archie. &#8220;My sister and I visit at the cottage, and they attend
+my church; and, as Miss Milner can tell you, they work hard
+enough all the six days of the week.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Indeed, Mr. Drummond, there are few that work harder!&#8221;
+broke in Miss Milner, volubly. &#8220;Such pretty creatures, too, to
+earn their own living; and yet they have a bright word and a smile
+for everybody! Ever since Miss Phillis,&#8221; (here Dick groaned)
+&#8220;made that blue dress for Mrs. Trimmings&mdash;she is the butcher&#8217;s
+wife, and a dressy woman, though not flashy, like Mrs.
+Squails&mdash;they have been quite the rage in Hadleigh. All the
+townspeople, and the resident gentry, and even the visitors, want
+their gowns made by the Miss Challoners. Their fit is perfect;
+and they have such taste. And&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; But here the luckless
+Dick could bear no more.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you will excuse me, sir,&#8221; he said, addressing his bewildered
+father, &#8220;I have left something particular at the hotel: I
+must just run and fetch it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dick did not specify whether it was his handkerchief, or
+his cigar-case, or his purse, of which he stood so urgently in
+need; but before Mr. Mayne could remonstrate, he had gone
+out of the shop. He went as far as the door of the hotel, and
+there he seized on a passing waiter and questioned him in a
+breathless manner. Having obtained his information, he set off
+at a walk that was almost a run through the town, and down
+the Braidwood Road. The few foot-passengers that he met
+shrank out of the way of this young man; for he walked, looking
+neither to the right nor to left, as though he saw nothing before
+him. And his eyes were gloomy, and, he did not whistle; and
+the only words he said to himself were, &#8220;Oh, Nan, never to
+have told me of this!&#8221; over and over again.</p>
+<p>The gate of the Friary stood open; for a small boy had been
+washing the flags, and had left his pail, and had gone off to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span>
+play marbles in the road with a younger brother. Dick,&mdash;who
+understood the bearings of the case at once, shook his fist at
+the truant behind his back, and then turned in at the gate.</p>
+<p>He peeped in at the hall door first; but Dorothy was peeling
+potatoes in the kitchen, and would see him as he passed, so he
+skirted the little path under the yews. And if Dulce had been
+at her sewing-machine as usual, she would have seen him at
+once; but this morning the machine was silent.</p>
+<p>A few steps farther he came to a full stop, and his eyes began
+to glisten, and he pricked up his ears after the manner of
+lovers; for through an open window just behind him, he could
+hear Nan&#8217;s voice, sweet and musical, reading aloud to her
+sisters.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, the darling!&#8221; he murmured, and composed himself
+for a few moments&#8217; ecstasy, for no doubt she was reading
+Tennyson, or Barrett-Browning, or one of the poetry-books he
+had given her; but he was a little disappointed when he found it
+was prose.</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;With regard to washing-dresses,&#8217;&#8221; read Nan, in her clear
+tones, &#8220;&#8216;cottons, as a general thing, have another material
+made up with them; the under-skirt may be of foulard or
+satin&#8211;&#8211;?&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I dare say! What nonsensical extravagance!&#8221; observed
+Phillis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Or the bodice of surah, satin, cashmere, or llama, and the
+skirt of cotton.... The skirts are nearly always made with
+single box-pleats, with a flat surface in the centre, and a flat
+band of trimming is often stitched on at about five inches from
+the edge of the flounce.&#8217; I should say that would be sweetly
+pretty, dear: we might try it for Mrs. Penlip&#8217;s dress. And
+just listen to a little more.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall do nothing of the kind,&#8221; blurted out Dick. &#8220;Oh,
+Nan, Nan! how could you be such a traitor?&mdash;washing-dresses
+indeed, and me left in ignorance!&#8221; And there was Dick, his
+face glowing and indignant, standing in the window, with
+Laddie barking furiously at him, and his outstretched hand
+nearly touching Nan.</p>
+<p>Phillis and Dulce screamed with surprise, being young and
+easily excited; but Nan only said, &#8220;Oh, Dick!&#8221; very faintly;
+and her sweet face grew red and pale by turns, and her fingers
+fluttered a little in his grasp, but only for joy and the sheer
+delight of seeing him.</p>
+<p>As for Dick, his eyes shone, but his manner was masterful.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look here!&#8221; he said, drawing Nan&#8217;s advertisement from
+his pocket; &#8220;we had come down here to surprise you girls,
+and to have a little fun and tennis; and I meant to have treated
+you to the public ground at the hotel, as I knew you had only a
+scrubby little bit of lawn; and this is what has met my eyes
+this morning! You have deceived mother and me; you have
+let us enjoy our holiday, which I didn&#8217;t a bit, for I had a sort of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span>
+nasty presentiment and a heap of uncomfortable thoughts; and
+all the while you were slaving away at this hideous dressmaking,&mdash;I
+wish I could burn the whole rag, tag, and bobtail,&mdash;and
+never let us know you wanted anything. And you call that
+being friends!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and the best of friends, too,&#8221; responded Phillis,
+cheerfully, for Nan was too much crushed by all this eloquence
+to answer. &#8220;Come along, Dulce! don&#8217;t listen any more to this
+nonsense, when you know mother is wanting us. Dick is all
+very well when he is in a good humor, but time and dressmaking
+wait for no man.&#8221; And the young hypocrite dragged the
+unwilling Dulce away. &#8220;Can&#8217;t you leave them alone to come to
+an understanding?&#8221; whispered Phillis in her ear, when they got
+outside the door. &#8220;I can see it in his eyes; and Nan is on the
+verge of crying, she is so upset with the surprise. And, you
+goose, where are you going now?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;To mother. Did you not say she wanted us?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you silly child!&#8221; returned Phillis, calmly: &#8220;does not
+mother always want us? One must say what comes uppermost
+in one&#8217;s mind in emergencies of this sort. But for me, you
+would have stood there for an hour staring at them. Mother is
+out, as it happens: if you like we will go and meet her. Oh,
+no, I forgot: Dick is a young man, and it would not be proper.
+Let us go into the kitchen and help Dorothy.&#8221; And away they
+went.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Phillis is a trump!&#8221; thought Dick, as he shut the door.
+&#8220;I love that girl.&#8221; And then he marched up to Nan, and took
+her hands boldly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, Nan you owe me amends for this; at least you will
+say you are sorry.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, Dick,&#8221; hanging her head, for she could not face his look,
+he was so masterful and determined with her, and so unlike the
+easy Dick of old. &#8220;I am not a bit sorry: I would not have
+spoiled your holiday for worlds.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My holiday!&mdash;a precious holiday it was without you! A
+lot of stupid climbing, with grinning idiots for company. Well,
+never mind that,&#8221; his wrathful tone changing in a moment.
+&#8220;So you kept me in the dark just for my own good?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, of course, Dick. What an unnecessary question!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you wanted me, Nan?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; very faintly, and there was a little tear-drop on one
+of Nan&#8217;s lashes.</p>
+<p>She had been so miserable,&mdash;how miserable he would never
+know; but he need not have asked her that.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, very well: then I won&#8217;t bother you with any more
+questions. Now we understand each other, and can just go to
+business.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan looked up in his face in alarm. She anticipated another
+lecture, but nothing of the sort came. Dick cleared his throat,
+got a little red, and went on.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I say settle our business, because we have been as good
+as engaged all these years. You know you belong to me,
+Nan?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Dick,&#8221; she returned, obediently; for she was too much
+taken by surprise to know what she ought to say, and the two
+words escaped from her almost unconsciously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There never was a time we were not fond of each other,&mdash;ever
+since you were so high,&#8221; pointing to what would represent
+the height of an extremely dwarfish infant of seven or eight
+months.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, not so long ago as that,&#8221; returned Nan, laughing a
+little.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Quite as long,&#8221; repeated Dick, solemnly. &#8220;I declare, I
+have been so fond of you all my life, Nan, that I have been the
+happiest fellow in the world. Now, look here; just say after
+me, &#8216;Dick, I promise on my word and honor to marry you.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan repeated the words, and then she paused in affright.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But your father!&#8221; she gasped,&mdash;&#8220;and the dressmaking!
+Oh, Dick! what have you made me say? You have startled
+me into forgetting everything. Oh, dear! oh, dear! what shall
+I do?&#8221; continued Nan, in the most innocent way. &#8220;We shall
+be engaged all our lives, for he will never allow you to marry
+me. Dick, dear Dick, please let me off! I never meant to give
+in like this.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never mind what you meant to do,&#8221; returned Dick, with
+the utmost gravity: &#8220;the thing is, you have done it. On your
+word and honor, Nan, remember. Now we are engaged.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, but Dick, please don&#8217;t take such advantage of me, just
+because I said&mdash;or, at least, you said&mdash;I was fond of you. What
+will mother say? She will be so dreadfully shocked; and it is so
+cruel to your father. I will be engaged to you in a way. I
+will promise&mdash;I will vow, if you will&mdash;never to marry any one
+else.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should think not,&#8221; interrupted Dick, fiercely. &#8220;I would
+murder the fellow, whoever he was!&#8221; and in spite of himself
+his thought reverted to the fair beard and handsome face of
+the young clergyman.</p>
+<p>Nan saw from his obstinate face that her eloquence was all
+wasted; but she made one more attempt, blushing like a rose:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will even promise to marry you, if your father gives his
+consent. You know, Dick, I would never go against him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nor I. You ought to know me better, Nan, than to think
+I should act shabbily and leave the dear old fellow in the dark.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then you will set me free,&#8221; marvelling a little over her
+lover&#8217;s good sense and filial submission.</p>
+<p>&#8220;As free as an engagement permits. Why, what do you
+mean, Nan? Have I not just told you we are engaged for good
+and all? Do you suppose I do not mean to tell my father so on
+the first opportunity? There he comes! bless the man, I knew
+he would follow me! Now you shall see how I can stick up for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span>
+the girl I love.&#8221; But Dick thought it better to release the hand
+he had been holding all this time.</p>
+<p>There are certain moments in life when one is in too exalted
+a mood to feel the usual sensations that circumstances might
+warrant. At another time Nan would have been shocked at the
+condition of her work-room, being a tidy little soul, and thrifty
+as to pins and other odds and ends; and the thought of Mr.
+Mayne coming upon them unexpectedly would have frightened
+her out of her senses.</p>
+<p>The room was certainly not in its usual order. There had
+been much business transacted there that morning. The table
+was strewn with breadths of gay <i>broche</i> silk; an unfinished
+gauzy-looking dress hung over a chair; the door of the wardrobe
+was open, and a row of dark-looking shapes&mdash;like Bluebeard&#8217;s
+decapitated wives&mdash;were dimly revealed to view. A
+sort of lay figure, draped in calico, was in one corner. As Nan
+observed to Phillis afterwards, &#8220;There was not a tidy corner
+in the whole room.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nevertheless, the presence of Dick so glorified the place that
+Nan looked around at the chaos quite calmly, as she heard Mr.
+Mayne&#8217;s sharp voice first inquiring for her mother and then for
+herself. Dorothy, with her usual tact, would have shown him
+into the little parlor; but Nan, who wished for no disguise,
+stepped forward and threw open the door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am here, Dorothy. Come in, Mr. Mayne. Dick is here
+too, and I am so sorry mother is out.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I might have known that scapegrace would have given me
+the slip!&#8221; muttered Mr. Mayne, as he shook hands ungraciously
+with Nan, and then followed her into the work-room.</p>
+<p>Dick, who was examining the wardrobe, turned round and
+saluted his father with a condescending nod:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You were too long with the parson: I could not wait, you
+see. Did you make all these dresses, Nan? You are awfully
+clever, you girls! They look first-rate,&mdash;this greeny-browny-yellowish
+one, for example,&#8221; pulling out a much furbelowed
+garment destined for Mrs. Squails.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Dick, do please leave them alone!&#8221; and Nan authoritatively
+waved him away, and closed the wardrobe.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was only admiring your handiwork,&#8221; returned Dick, imperturbably.
+&#8220;Does she not look a charming little dressmaker,
+father?&#8221; regarding Nan with undisguised pleasure, as she stood
+in her pretty bib-apron before them.</p>
+<p>But Mr. Mayne only drew his heavy eyebrows together, and
+said,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pshaw, Dick! don&#8217;t chatter such folly. I want to have
+some talk with Miss Nancy myself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;All right: I have had my innings,&#8221; returned naughty Dick;
+but he shot a look at Nan that made her blush to her finger
+ends, and that was not lost on Mr. Mayne.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, now, Miss Nancy, what does all this mean?&#8221; he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span>
+asked, harshly. &#8220;Here we have run down just in a friendly
+way,&mdash;Dick and I,&mdash;leaving the mother rather knocked up after
+her travels at Longmead, to look you up and see how you are
+getting on. And now we find you have been deceiving us all
+along, and keeping us in the dark, and that you are making
+yourselves the talk of the place, sewing a parcel of gowns for
+all the townspeople.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne did not add that his son had so bothered him for
+the last three weeks to run down to Hadleigh that he had acceded
+at last to his request, in the hope of enjoying a little
+peace.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Draw it mild!&#8221; muttered Dick, who did not much admire
+this opening tirade; but Nan answered, with much dignity,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If people talk about us it is because of the novelty. They
+have never heard of gentle-people doing this sort of work before&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should think not!&#8221; wrathfully from Mr. Mayne.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Things were so bad with us that we should have all had to
+separate if Phillis had not planned this scheme; and then
+mother would have broken her heart; but now we are getting
+on famously. Our work gives satisfaction, we have plenty of
+orders; we do not forfeit people&#8217;s good opinions, for we have
+nothing but respect shown us, and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>But here Mr. Mayne interrupted her flow of quiet eloquence
+somewhat rudely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pack of nonsense!&#8221; he exclaimed, angrily. &#8220;I wonder at
+your mother,&mdash;I do indeed. I thought she had more sense.
+You have no right to outrage your friends in this way! it is
+treating us badly. What will your mother say, Dick? She
+will be dreadfully shocked. I am sorry for you, my boy,&mdash;I
+am indeed: but, under the circumstances&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>But what he was about to add was checked by a very singular
+proceeding on the part of his son; for Dick suddenly took Nan&#8217;s
+hand, and drew her forward.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be sorry for me, father: I am the happiest fellow
+alive. Nan and I have come to an understanding at last, after
+all these years. Allow me to present to you the future Mrs.
+Richard Mayne.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXXI_DICK_THINKS_OF_THE_CITY' id='CHAPTER_XXXI_DICK_THINKS_OF_THE_CITY'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXI.</h2>
+<h3>DICK THINKS OF THE CITY.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>When Dick had uttered this audacious speech, Mr. Mayne
+started back, and his expression of mingled wrath and dismay
+was so ludicrous that under any other circumstances his son
+would have found it difficult to keep his countenance.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;What! what!&#8221; he almost shouted, losing all sense of
+politeness, and even of Nan&#8217;s presence; &#8220;you young fool,
+what do you mean by trumping up this nonsense and presuming
+to talk to me in this way?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dick thought it prudent to drop Nan&#8217;s hand,&mdash;and, indeed, the
+girl shrank away from them both in alarm at this outburst:
+nevertheless, his countenance and bearing maintained the same
+admirable <i>sang-froid</i>, as he confronted his angry parent:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, father, what is the use of calling me names? When
+a fellow is of age, and knows his own mind, he does not care a
+pin for being called a fool. &#8216;Hard words break no bones,&#8217; as
+our copy-leaves used to tell us,&mdash;no, I have not got that quite
+right; but that is about my meaning. Look here, father,&#8221; he
+continued, in a coaxing, boyish voice; &#8220;I have cared for Nan
+ever since she was a little creature so high,&#8221; again reverting to
+the infantile measurement. &#8220;I have always meant to marry
+her,&mdash;that is, if she would have me,&#8221; correcting himself, as Nan
+drew herself up a little proudly. &#8220;Money or no money, there
+is not another girl in England that I would have for a wife. I
+would wait for her if I had to wait half my life, just the same as
+she would wait for me; and so, as I said before, when a fellow
+has made up his mind, there is nothing more to say.&#8221; And
+here Dick pursed up his lips for a whistle, but thought better of
+it, and fell to twisting and untwisting the ends of his sandy
+moustache.</p>
+<p>Nan&#8217;s downcast eyes revealed nothing. But if Dick could
+only have seen the happy look in them! What eloquence could
+ever have been so dear to her as that clear rough-and-ready
+statement of her lover&#8217;s feelings for her? &#8220;There is not another
+girl in England that I would have for a wife.&#8221; Could anything
+surpass the beauty of that sentence? Oh, how manly, how
+true he was, this Dick of hers!</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, indeed! I am to say nothing, am I?&#8221; returned Mr.
+Mayne, with exquisite irony. &#8220;My son is to dictate to me;
+and I am to be silent! Oh, you young fool!&#8221; he muttered
+under his breath; but then for the moment words seemed to
+fail him.</p>
+<p>In spite of the wrath that was boiling within him, and to which
+he did not dare give vent in Nan&#8217;s presence, in spite of the grief
+and disappointment that his son&#8217;s defiance had caused him,
+Dick&#8217;s bearing filled him with admiration and amazement.</p>
+<p>This boy of his was worth something, he thought. He had a
+clear head of his own, and could speak to some purpose. Was a
+likely young fellow like this to be thrown away on that Challoner
+girl? Poor Nan! Pretty and blooming as she looked, Mr. Mayne
+felt almost as though he hated her. Why had she come between
+his boy and him? Had he a dozen sons, that he could spare one
+of them? Was not Dick his only one,&mdash;the son of his right
+hand, his sole hope and ambition? Mr. Mayne could have wept
+as these thoughts passed through his mind.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span></p>
+<p>It was at this moment that Nan thought it right to speak.
+Dick had had his say, but it was not for her to be silent.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Mayne, please listen to me a moment,&#8221; she said, pleadingly.
+&#8220;No; I must speak to your father,&#8221; as Dick, much
+alarmed, tried to silence her. &#8220;He must not think hard things
+of us, and misunderstand us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, dear; indeed you had better be silent!&#8221; implored Dick,
+anxiously; but Nan for once turned a deaf ear to him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I must speak,&#8221; she persisted. &#8220;Mr. Mayne, it is quite true
+what Dick says: we have been together all our lives, and have
+grown to care for each other. I cannot remember the time,&#8221;&mdash;the
+tears coming into her bright eyes&mdash;&#8220;when Dick was not
+more to me than a brother; it is all of such long standing, it is
+far, far too late to stop it now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We shall see about that, Miss Nancy,&#8221; muttered Mr. Mayne,
+between his teeth; but the girl did not seem to hear him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dick took me by surprise just now. I ought to have been
+more on my guard, and not have given him that promise.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What promise?&#8221; demanded Mr. Mayne, harshly; and Nan
+hung her head, and returned, shyly,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That I would marry him some time; but indeed&mdash;indeed he
+made me say it, and I was so taken by surprise. No, Dick;
+you must let me finish,&#8221; for Dick was looking at her with piteous
+entreaty in his eyes. &#8220;I know we were wrong to say so much
+without your leave; but indeed I will do your son no harm. I
+cannot marry any one else, because I am engaged to him; but
+as far as he is concerned he is free. I will never marry him without
+your permission; he shall not come here if you do not wish;
+but do not be so angry with us;&#8221; and here her lip quivered.
+&#8220;If you did not mean this to happen, you should have kept us
+apart all these years.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, hush, dear!&#8221; whispered Dick in her ear; but Mr
+Mayne almost thrust him aside, and laid a rough grasp on the
+girl&#8217;s wrist. &#8220;Never mind him: answer me one question. Are
+you serious in what you say, that you will never marry him
+without my permission?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course I will not,&#8221; answered Nan, quite shocked. &#8220;Dick
+would not ask me to do such a thing; he is far too honorable,
+and&mdash;and&mdash;no one would think of such a thing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well; that is all I wanted to know;&#8221; and he released
+her, not over-gently: &#8220;the rest I can settle with Master Dick
+himself. Good-morning, Miss Nancy: under the circumstances
+I do not think I will wait to see your mother. I am not
+quite in the mood for ladies; perhaps, later on, I may have
+something to say to her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you mean to shake hands with me, Mr. Mayne?&#8221;
+asked poor Nan, much distressed at the evil temper of Dick&#8217;s
+father; but there was no sign of softening.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; I will shake hands with you, and gladly, if you will
+promise to be sensible and send this boy of mine about his business.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span>
+Come now, Nan; own for my comfort that it is only a
+bit of boy-and-girl nonsense, that means nothing. I am not
+over-particular, and do not object to a bit of flirting with young
+folk.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You had better go with your father, Dick,&#8221; returned Nan,
+with much dignity, and quite ignoring this speech.</p>
+<p>Dick seized the little hand that had been so rudely rejected,
+and kissed it under his father&#8217;s eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will see you again somehow,&#8221; he whispered, and Nan was
+quite content with this promise. Dick would keep his word,
+she knew: he would not leave Hadleigh without seeing her.</p>
+<p>A very unpleasant hour ensued for poor Dick. Mr. Mayne
+in one of his worst tempers; he had conducted himself to Nan
+in an ungentlemanly manner, and he knew it; as Dick said to
+himself,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is very hard on a fellow when one&#8217;s father acts like a
+cad.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne had shown himself a cad. No gentleman by birth
+or breeding would have conducted himself in that offensive
+way. Bad temper had broken down the trammels of conventionality:
+never before in his life had Dick felt so utterly ashamed
+of his father. Mr. Mayne was conscious of his son&#8217;s criticism,
+and it made things worse.</p>
+<p>It spoke well for Dick&#8217;s prudence and self-command that he let
+the storm of his father&#8217;s anger break over his head, and said no
+word. Mr. Mayne ranted and raved; I am afraid he even
+swore once or twice,&mdash;at least his language was undesirably
+strong,&mdash;and Dick walked beside him and held his peace.
+&#8220;Poor old boy, he is terribly cut up about this!&#8221; he thought
+once.</p>
+<p>Mr. Drummond saw them coming along, and wondered at
+the energy of the older man. Was it the visit to the Friary that
+had put him out? and then he fell anew into cogitation.
+Who were these people who were so curious about the Challoners?
+At least that sulky young fellow had taken no apparent
+interest, for he had made an excuse to leave them; but the
+other one had persisted in very close investigation. Perhaps
+he was some relation,&mdash;an uncle, or a distant cousin; evidently
+he had some right or claim to be displeased. Archie determined
+to solve the mystery as soon as possible.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, sir, have you nothing to say for yourself?&#8221; demanded
+Mr. Mayne, when he had fairly exhausted himself.
+He had disinherited Dick half a dozen times; he had deprived
+him of his liberal allowance; he had spoken of a projected
+voyage to New Zealand: and Dick had only walked on steadily,
+and thought of the cold trembling little hand he had kissed.
+&#8220;Have you nothing to say for yourself?&#8221; he vociferated.</p>
+<p>Dick woke up at this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, I have plenty to say,&#8221; he returned cheerfully;
+&#8220;but two cannot talk at once, you know. It was right for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span>
+you to have the first innings, and all that; and I say, father,&#8221;&mdash;his
+filial feelings coming to the surface,&mdash;&#8220;I am awfully sorry,
+and so is Nan, to see you so vexed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Speak for yourself,&#8221; was the wrathful answer. &#8220;Don&#8217;t
+mention that girl&#8217;s name in my hearing for the present.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Whose name?&mdash;Nan&#8217;s?&#8221; returned Dick, innocently. &#8220;I
+don&#8217;t see how we are to keep it out of the conversation, when the
+row is all about her. Look here, father: I say again I am
+awfully sorry you are vexed; but as N&mdash;she says, it is too late
+to mend matters now. I have made my choice, for better for
+worse, and I am sorry it does not please you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Please me!&#8221; retorted Mr. Mayne; and then he added,
+venomously: &#8220;The girl said you would not marry without my
+permission; but I will never give it. Come, Dick, it is no use
+thwarting me in this: you are our only child and we have
+other plans for you. Pshaw! you are only a boy! You have
+not seen the world yet. There are dozens of girls far prettier
+than this Nan. Give this nonsense up, and there is nothing
+I will not do for you; you shall travel, have your liberty, do
+as you like for the next two or three years, and I will not worry
+you about marrying. Why, you are only one-and-twenty; and
+you have two more years of University life! What an idea,&mdash;a
+fine young fellow like you talking of tying yourself down to
+matrimony!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is no use in my going back to Oxford, father,&#8221; returned
+Dick, steadily; &#8220;thank you kindly all the same, but, it would
+be sheer waste of money. I have made up my mind to go into
+the City; it is the fashionable thing nowadays. And one does
+not need Greek and Latin for that, though, of course, it is an
+advantage to a fellow, and gives him a standing; but, as I
+have to get my own living, I cannot afford the two years.
+Your old chums Stanfield &amp; Stanfield would give me a berth at
+once.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is the boy mad? What on earth do you mean by all this
+tomfoolery?&#8221; demanded Mr. Mayne, unable to believe his ears.
+His small gray eyes opened widely and irately on his son; but
+Dick took no notice. He walked on, with his shoulders looking
+rather square and determined; the corners of his mouth were
+working rebelliously: evidently he did not dare to look at his
+father for fear of breaking into incontrollable laughter. Really
+the dear old boy was getting too absurd; he&mdash;Dick&mdash;could not
+stand it much longer. &#8220;What in the name of all that is foolish
+do you mean, sir?&#8221; thundered Mr. Mayne.</p>
+<p>Dick executed a low whistle, and then he said, in an aggrieved
+voice,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, father, I don&#8217;t call you very consistent. I suppose
+I know what being disinherited means? In plain language, you
+have told me about half a dozen times that if I stick to Nan I
+am not to expect a shilling of your money. Now, in my own
+mind, of course I call that precious hard on a fellow, considering
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span>
+I have not been such a bad sort of son after all. But I am
+not going to quarrel with you about that: a man has a right to
+do as he likes with his own money.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; but, Dick, you are going to be sensible, you know, and
+drop the girl?&#8221; in a wheedling sort of tone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Excuse me, father; I am going to do nothing of the kind,&#8221;
+returned Dick, with sudden firmness. &#8220;I am going to stick
+to her, as you did to my mother; and for just as long, if it must
+be so. I am not a bit afraid that you will not give your permission,
+if we only wait long enough to prove that we are in earnest.
+The only thing I am anxious about is how I am to get my
+living; and that is why I will not consent to waste any more
+time at the University. The bar is too uphill work; money is
+made quickest in the City: so, if you will be good enough to
+give me an introduction to Stanfield &amp; Stanfield,&mdash;I know they
+are a rattling good sort of people,&mdash;that is all I will trouble you
+about at present.&#8221; And Dick drew in a long breath of relief
+after this weighty speech.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean this, Dick?&#8221; asked Mr. Mayne, rather feebly.</p>
+<p>They had reached the hotel now, and, as they entered the
+private room where their luncheon was awaiting them, he sat
+down as though he had grown suddenly old and tired, and
+rested his head on his hand, perhaps to hide the moisture that
+had gathered under his shaggy eyebrows.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, father, I do,&#8221; returned Dick; but he spoke very gently,
+and his hand touched his father&#8217;s shoulder caressingly. &#8220;Let
+me give you some wine: all this business has taken it out of
+you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I have had a blow, Dick,&mdash;my only boy has given me
+a blow,&#8221; returned Mr. Mayne, pathetically; but as he took the
+wine his hand trembled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am awfully sorry,&#8221; answered Dick, penitently: &#8220;if there
+were anything else you had asked me but this&mdash;but I cannot give
+up Nan.&#8221; And, as he pronounced the name, Dick&#8217;s eyes shone
+with pride and tenderness. He was a soft-hearted, affectionate
+young fellow, and this quarrel with his father was costing him
+a great deal of pain. In everything else he would have been
+submissive to his parents; but now he had a purpose and responsibility
+in his life: he had to be faithful to the girl whom
+he had won; he must think for her now as well as for himself.
+How sweet was this sense of dual existence, this unity of
+heart and aim!</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne fairly groaned as he read the expression on his
+son&#8217;s face. Dick&#8217;s youthful countenance was stamped with
+honest resolution. &#8220;I am going to stick to her, as you did
+to my mother.&#8221;&mdash;that was what he had said. If this were
+true, it was all over with Dick&#8217;s chances with the pretty little
+heiress; he would never look at her or her thirty thousand
+pounds; &#8220;but all the same he, Richard Mayne, would never
+consent to his son marrying a dressmaker. If she had only
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span>
+not disgraced herself, if she had not brought this humiliation on
+them, he might have been brought to listen to their pleading in
+good time and at his own pleasure; but now, never!&mdash;never!&#8221;
+he muttered, and set his teeth hard.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dick,&#8221; he said, suddenly, for there had been utter silence
+for a space.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, father.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have upset me very much, and made me very unhappy;
+but I wish you to say nothing to your mother, and we
+will talk about this again. Promise me one thing,&mdash;that you
+will go back to Oxford at least until Christmas.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is the good of that, sir?&#8221; asked his son, dubiously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is the good of anything? for you have taken every
+bit of pleasure out of my life; but at least you can do as much
+as this for me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, father, if you wish it,&#8221; returned Dick, more cheerfully;
+&#8220;but all the same I have fixed upon a City life.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We will talk of that again,&#8221; replied his father; &#8220;and, Dick,
+we go home to-morrow, and, unless you promise me not to come
+down to Hadleigh between this and Christmas, I shall be obliged
+to speak to Mrs. Challoner.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, there is no need for that,&#8221; returned Dick, sulkily.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You give me your word?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes,&#8221; pushing aside his chair with a kick. &#8220;It would
+be no use coming down to Hadleigh, for Nan would not speak
+to me. I know her too well for that. She has got such a conscience,
+you know. I shall write to her, but I do not know if
+she will answer my letters; but it does not matter: we shall
+both be true as steel. If you don&#8217;t want me any more, I think
+I will have a cigar on the beach, for this room is confoundedly
+hot.&#8221; And, without waiting for permission, Dick strode off,
+still sulky and fully aware that his father meant to follow him,
+for fear of his footsteps straying again down the Braidwood
+Road.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXXII_DICK_IS_TO_BE_OUR_REAL_BROTHER' id='CHAPTER_XXXII_DICK_IS_TO_BE_OUR_REAL_BROTHER'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXII.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;DICK IS TO BE OUR REAL BROTHER.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Never was a father more devoted to his son&#8217;s company than
+Mr. Mayne was that day. Dick&#8217;s cigar was hardly alight before
+his father had joined him. When Dick grew weary of throwing
+stones aimlessly at imaginary objects, and voted the beach slow,
+Mr. Mayne proposed a walk with alacrity. They dined together,&mdash;not
+talking much, it is true, for Dick was still sulky, and his
+father tired and inclined to headache, but keeping up a show
+of conversation for the waiter&#8217;s benefit. But when that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span>
+functionary had retired, and the wine was on the table, Dick
+made no further effort to be agreeable, but placed himself in
+the window-seat and stared moodily at the sea, while his father
+watched him and drank his wine in silence.</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne was fighting against drowsiness valiantly.</p>
+<p>Dick knew this, and was waiting for an opportunity to make
+his escape.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Had we not better ring for lights and coffee?&#8221; asked his
+father, as he felt the first ominous sensations stealing over him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not just yet. I feel rather disposed for a nap myself; and
+it is a shame to shut out the moonlight,&#8221; returned that wicked
+Dick, calling up a fib to his aid, and closing his eyes as he spoke.</p>
+<p>The bait took. In another five minutes Mr. Mayne was
+nodding in earnest, and Dick on tiptoe had just softly closed
+the door behind him, and was taking his straw hat from its peg.</p>
+<p>Nan was walking up and down the little dark lawn, feeling
+restless and out of sorts after the agitation of the morning,
+when she heard a low whistle at the other side of the wall, and
+her heart felt suddenly as light as a feather.</p>
+<p>Dick saw her white gown as she came down the flagged path
+to the gate to let him in. The moonlight seemed to light it up
+with a sort of glory.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are a darling not to keep me waiting, for we have not
+a moment to lose,&#8221; he whispered, as she came up close to him.
+&#8220;He is asleep now, but he will wake up as soon as he misses
+me. Have you expected me before, Nan? But indeed I have
+not been left to myself a moment.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I knew all about it, my poor Dick,&#8221; she answered,
+looking at him so softly. &#8220;Phillis is reading to mother in the
+parlor, and Dulce is in the work-room. I have nowhere to
+ask you unless you come in and talk to them. But mother is
+too upset to see you, I am afraid.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let us wait here,&#8221; returned Dick, boldly. &#8220;No one can
+hear what we say, and I must speak to you alone. No; I had
+better not see your mother to-night, and the girls would be in
+the way. Shall you be tired, dear, if you stand out here a
+moment talking to me? for I dare not wait long.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, I shall not be tired,&#8221; answered Nan gently. Tired,
+when she had her own Dick near her!&mdash;when she could speak
+to him,&mdash;look at him!</p>
+<p>&#8220;All right; but it is my duty to look after you, now you belong
+to me,&#8221; returned Dick, proudly. &#8220;Whatever happens,&mdash;however
+long we may be separated,&mdash;you must remember that&mdash;that
+you belong to me,&mdash;that you will have to account to me
+if you do not take care of yourself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan smiled happily at this, and then she said,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have told mother all about it, and she is dreadfully distressed
+about your father&#8217;s anger. She cried so, and took his
+part, and said she did not wonder that he would not listen to us;
+he would feel it such a disgrace, his son wanting to marry a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span>
+dressmaker. She made me unhappy, too, when she put it all
+before me in that way,&#8221; and here Nan&#8217;s face paled perceptibly
+in the moonlight, &#8220;for she made me see how hard it is on him,
+and on your mother, too! Oh, Dick don&#8217;t you think you ought
+to listen to them, and not have anything more to do with me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nan, I am shocked at you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, Dick!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I tell you I am utterly shocked! You to say such a thing to
+my face, when we have been as good as engaged to each other
+all our lives! Who cares for the trumpery dressmaking?
+Not I!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But your father!&#8221; persisted Nan, but very faintly, for
+Dick&#8217;s eyes were blazing with anger.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not another word! Nan, how dare you&mdash;after what you
+have promised this morning! Have I not been worried and
+badgered enough, without your turning on me in this way? If
+you won&#8217;t marry me, you won&#8217;t; but I shall be a bachelor all
+my life for your sake!&#8221; and Dick, who was so sore, poor fellow,
+that he was ready to quarrel with her out of the very fulness
+of his love, actually made a movement as though to leave her,
+only Nan caught him by the arm in quite a frightened way.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dick! dear Dick!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well?&#8221; rather sullenly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, don&#8217;t leave me like this! It would break my heart!
+I did not mean to make you angry. I was only pleading with
+you for your own good. Of course I will keep my promise.
+Have I not been true to you all my life? Oh, Dick! how can
+you turn from me like this?&#8221; And Nan actually began to sob
+in earnest, only Dick&#8217;s sweet temper returned in a moment at the
+sight of her distress, and he fell to comforting her with all his
+might; and after this things went on more smoothly.</p>
+<p>He told her about his conversation with his father, and how
+he had planned a city life for himself; but here Nan timidly
+interposed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Would that not be a pity, when you had always meant to
+study for the bar?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not a bit of it,&#8221; was the confident answer. &#8220;That was my
+father&#8217;s wish, not mine. I don&#8217;t mind telling you in confidence
+that I am not at all a shining light. I am afraid I am rather a
+duffer, and shall not make my mark in the world. I have
+always thought desk-work must be rather a bore; but, after all,
+with a good introduction and a tolerable berth, one is pretty
+sure of getting on in the City. What I want is to make a little
+nest cosey for somebody, and as quick as possible,&mdash;eh, Nan?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not mind waiting,&#8221; faltered Nan. But she felt at this
+moment that no lover could have been so absolutely perfect as
+her Dick.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that is what girls always say,&#8221; returned Dick, rather
+loftily. &#8220;They are never in a hurry. They would wait seven&mdash;ten
+years,&mdash;half a lifetime. But with us men it is different.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span>
+I am not a bit afraid of you. I know you will stick to me like
+a brick, and all that; and father will come round when he sees
+we are in earnest. But all the same I want to have you to myself
+as soon as possible. A fellow likes the feeling of working
+for his wife. I hate to think of these pretty fingers stitching
+away for other people. I want them to work for me: do you
+understand, Nan?&#8217;&#8221; And Nan, of course, understood.</p>
+<p>Dick, poor fellow, had not much time for his love-making, he
+and Nan had too much business to settle. Nan had to explain
+to him that her mother was of opinion that under the present
+circumstances, nothing ought to be done to excite Mr. Mayne&#8217;s
+wrath. Dick might write to her mother sometimes, just to let
+them know how he was getting on; but between the young
+people themselves there must be no correspondence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother says it will not be honorable, and that we are not
+properly engaged.&#8221; And, though Dick combated this rather
+stoutly, he gave in at last, and agreed that, until the new year,
+he would not claim his rights, or infringe the sacred privacy of
+the Friary.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And now I must go,&#8221; said Dick, with a great sigh; &#8220;and it
+is good-bye for months. Now, I do not mean to ask your leave,&mdash;for
+you are such a girl for scruples, and all that, and you
+might take it into your head to refuse me: so there!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dick&#8217;s words were mysterious; but he very soon made his
+meaning plain.</p>
+<p>Nan said, &#8220;Oh, Dick!&#8221; but made no further protest. After
+all, whatever Mr. Mayne and her mother said, they were engaged.</p>
+<p>As Dick closed the little gate behind him, he was aware of a
+tall figure looming in the darkness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Confound that parson! What does he mean by loafing
+about here?&#8221; he thought, feeling something like a pugnacious
+bull-dog at the prospect of a possible rival. &#8220;I forgot to ask
+Nan about him; but I dare say he is after one of the other
+girls.&#8221; But these reflections were nipped in the bud, as the
+short, sturdy form of Mr. Mayne was dimly visible in the road.</p>
+<p>Dick chuckled softly: he could not help it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;All right, dear old boy,&#8221; he said to himself; and then he
+stepped up briskly, and took his father&#8217;s arm.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you call this honorable, sir?&#8221; began Mr. Mayne, in a
+most irascible voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I call it very neat,&#8221; returned Dick, cheerfully. &#8220;My dear
+pater, everything is fair in love and war; and if you will nap
+at unseasonable times&mdash;but that comes of early rising, as I have
+often told you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hold your tongue, sir!&#8221; was the violent rejoinder. &#8220;It is
+a mean trick you have served me, and you know it. We will
+go back to-night; nothing will induce me to sleep in this place.
+You are not to be trusted. You told me a downright lie. You
+were humbugging me, sir, with your naps.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I will plead guilty to a fib, if you like,&#8221; was Dick&#8217;s careless
+answer. &#8220;What a fuss you are making, father! Did you
+never tell one in your life? Now, what is the use of putting
+yourself out?&mdash;it is not good at your age, sir. What would my
+mother say? It might bring on apoplexy, after that port-wine.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Confound your impertinence!&#8221; rejoined Mr. Mayne, angrily;
+but Dick patted his coat-sleeve pleasantly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, that will do. I think you have relieved your feelings
+sufficiently. Now we will go to business. I have seen
+Nan, and told her all about it; and she has had it out with her
+mother. Mrs. Challoner will not hear of our writing to each
+other; and I am not to show my face at the Friary without
+your permission. There is no fibbing or want of honor there:
+Nan is not the girl to encourage a fellow to take liberties.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, indeed!&#8221; sneered Mr. Mayne; but he listened attentively
+for all that. And his gloomy eyebrows relaxed in the
+darkness. The girl was not behaving so badly, after all.</p>
+<p>&#8220;So we said good-bye,&#8221; continued Dick, keeping the latter
+part of the interview to himself; &#8220;and in October I shall go
+back for the term, as I promised. We can settle about the
+other things after Christmas.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, we can talk about that by and by,&#8221; replied his
+father, hastily; and then he waxed cheerful all at once, and
+called his son&#8217;s attention to some new houses they were building.
+&#8220;After all, Hadleigh is not such a bad little place,&#8221; he
+observed; &#8220;and they gave us a very good dinner at the hotel.
+It is not every one who can cook fish like that.&#8221; And then
+Dick knew that the storm had blown over for the present, and
+that his father intended to make himself pleasant and ignore all
+troublesome topics.</p>
+<p>Dick was a little tired when he went to bed; but, on the
+whole, he was not unhappy. It was quite true that the idea of
+a City life was repugnant to him, but the thought of Nan sweetened
+even that. Nothing else remained to him if his father
+chose to be disagreeable and withdraw his allowance, or
+threaten to cut him off with a shilling, as other fellows&#8217; fathers
+did in novels.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is uncommonly unpleasant, having to wage war with
+one&#8217;s own father,&#8221; thought Dick, as he laid his sandy head on
+the pillow. &#8220;He is such an old trump, too, that it goes against
+the grain. But when it comes to his wanting to choose a wife
+for me, it is too much of a good thing: it is tyranny fit for the
+Middle Ages. Let him threaten if he likes. He will find I shall
+take his threats in earnest. After Christmas I will have it out
+with him again; and if he will not listen to reason, I will go up
+to Mr. James Stanfield myself, and then he will see that I mean
+what I say. Heigho! I am not such a lucky fellow as Hamilton
+always thinks me.&#8221; And at this juncture of his sad
+cogitations Dick forgot all about it, and fell asleep.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span></p>
+<p>Yes, Dick slept the sleep of the just. It was Mr. Drummond
+who was wakeful and uneasy that night. A vague sense of
+something wrong tormented him waking and sleeping.</p>
+<p>Who was that sandy-headed young fellow who had been
+twice to the Friary that day. What business had he to be
+shutting the gate after him in that free-and-easy way at ten
+o&#8217;clock at night? He must find it out somehow; he must
+make an excuse for calling there, and put the question as indifferently
+as he could; but even when he made up his mind to
+pursue this course, Archie felt just as restless as ever.</p>
+<p>He made his way to the cottage as early as possible. Phillis,
+who was alone in the work-room, colored a little as she saw him
+coming in at the gate. He came so often, he was so kind, so attentive
+to them all, and yet she had a dim doubt in her mind
+that troubled her at times. Was it for Nan&#8217;s sake that he came?
+Could she speak and undeceive him before things went too far
+with him? Yes, when the opportunity offered, she thought she
+could speak, even though the speaking would be painful to her.</p>
+<p>Mr. Drummond looked round the room with a disappointed
+air as he entered, and then he came up to Phillis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are alone?&#8221; he said, with a regretful accent in his
+voice; at least Phillis fancied she detected it. &#8220;How is that?
+Are your sisters out, or busy?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, we are always busy,&#8221; returned Phillis, lightly; but,
+curiously enough, she felt a little sore at his tone. &#8220;Nan has
+gone down to Albert Terrace to take a fresh order, and Dulce
+is in the town somewhere with mother. Don&#8217;t you mean to sit
+down, Mr. Drummond? or is your business with mother? She
+will not be back just yet, but I could give her any message.&#8221;
+Phillis said this as she stitched away with energy; but one
+quick glance had shown her that Mr. Drummond was looking
+irresolute and ill at ease as he stood beside her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, but I must not stay and hinder you. Yes, my
+business was with your mother; but it is of no consequence,
+and I can call again.&#8221; Nevertheless, he sat down and deposited
+his felt hat awkwardly enough on the table. He liked Phillis,
+but he was a little afraid of her; she was shrewd, and seemed
+to have the knack of reading one&#8217;s thoughts. He was wondering
+how he should bring his question on the <i>tapis</i>; but Phillis,
+by some marvellous intuition that really surprised her, had
+already come to the conclusion that this visit meant something.
+He had seen Dick; perhaps he wanted to find out all about him.
+Certainly he was not quite himself to-day. Yes, that must be
+what he wanted. Phillis&#8217;s kind heart and mother-wit were
+always ready for an emergency.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How full Hadleigh is getting!&#8221; she remarked, pleasantly,
+as she adjusted the trimming of a sleeve. &#8220;Do you know some
+old neighbors of ours from Oldfield turned up unexpectedly
+yesterday? They are going away to-day, though,&#8221; she added,
+with a little regret in her voice.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span></p>
+<p>Archie brightened up visibly at this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, indeed!&#8221; he observed, with alacrity. &#8220;Not a very
+long visit. Perhaps they came down purposely to see you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, of course,&#8221; returned Phillis, confusedly. &#8220;They had
+intended staying some days at the hotel, but Mr. Mayne suddenly
+changed his mind, much to our and Dick&#8217;s disappointment;
+but it could not be helped.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dick,&#8221; echoed Archie, a little surprised at this familiarity
+and then he added, somewhat awkwardly, &#8220;I think I saw the
+young man and his father at the Library yesterday; and last
+night as I was coming from the station I encountered him again
+at your gate.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, that was Dick,&#8221; answered Phillis, stooping a little
+over her work. &#8220;He is not handsome, poor fellow! but he is
+as nice as possible. They live at Longmead; that is next door
+to our dear old Glen Cottage, and the gardens adjoin. We call
+him Dick because we have known him all our lives, and he has
+been a sort of brother to us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, I see,&#8221; drawled Archie, slowly. &#8220;That sort of
+thing is very nice when you have not a man belonging to you.
+It is a little awkward sometimes, for people do not always see
+this sort of relationship. He seemed a nice sort of fellow, I
+should say,&#8221; he continued, in his patronizing way, stroking his
+beard complacently. After all, the sandy-headed youth was
+no possible rival.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Dick is ever so nice,&#8221; answered Phillis, enthusiastically;
+&#8220;not good enough for&mdash;&#8221; and then she stopped and broke her
+thread. &#8220;I am glad we are so fond of him,&#8221; she continued,
+rather hurriedly, &#8220;because Dick is to be our real brother some
+day. He and Nan have cared for each other all their lives, and,
+though Mr. Mayne is dreadfully angry about it, they consider
+themselves as good as engaged, and mean to live down his
+opposition. They came to an understanding yesterday,&#8221;
+finished Phillis, who was determined to bring it all out.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, indeed!&#8221; returned Archie: &#8220;that must be a great
+relief, I am sure. There is your little dog whining at the door;
+may I let him in?&#8221; And, without waiting for an answer,
+Archie had darted out in pursuit of Laddie, but not before
+Phillis&#8217;s swift upward glance had shown her a face that had
+grown perceptibly paler in the last few minutes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, poor fellow! I was right!&#8221; thought Phillis, and the
+tears rushed to her eyes. &#8220;It was best to speak. I see that
+now; and he will get over it if he thinks no one knows it. How
+I wish I could help him! but it will never do to show the least
+sympathy: I have no right.&#8221; And here Phillis sighed, and her
+gray eyes grew dark with pain for a moment. Archie was
+rather a long time absent; and then he came back with Laddie
+in his arms, and stood by the window.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your news has interested me very much,&#8221; he said, and his
+voice was quite steady. &#8220;I suppose, as this&mdash;this engagement
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span>
+is not public, I had better not wish your sister joy, unless you
+do it for me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no; there is no need of that,&#8221; returned Phillis, in a
+low voice. &#8220;Mother might not like my mentioning it; but I
+thought you might wonder about Dick, and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; here Phillis got
+confused.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; replied Archie, quietly; but now he looked at
+her. &#8220;You are very kind. Yes, it was best for me to know.&#8221;
+And then, as Phillis rose and gave him her hand, for he had
+taken up his hat as he spoke, she read at once that her caution
+had been in vain,&mdash;that he had full understanding why the
+news had been told to him, and to him only, and that he was
+grateful to her for so telling him.</p>
+<p>Poor Phillis! she had accomplished her task; and yet as the
+door closed behind the young clergyman, two or three tears fell
+on her work. He was not angry with her; on the contrary, he
+had thanked her, and the grasp of his hand had been as cordial
+as ever. But, in spite of the steadiness of his voice and look,
+the arrow had pierced between the joints of his armor. He
+might not be fatally wounded,&mdash;that was not in the girl&#8217;s power
+to know; but that he was in some way hurt,&mdash;made miserable
+with a man&#8217;s misery,&mdash;of this she was acutely sensible; and the
+strangest longing to comfort him&mdash;to tell him how much she
+admired his fortitude&mdash;came over her, with a strong stinging
+pain that surprised her.</p>
+<p>Archie had the longest walk that day that he had ever had in
+his life. He came in quite fagged and foot-sore to his dinner,
+and far too tired to eat. Mattie told him he looked ill and worn
+out; but, though he generally resented any such personal remarks,
+he merely told her very gently that he was tired, and that
+he would like a cup of coffee in his study, and not to be disturbed.
+And when she took in the coffee presently, she found him buried
+in the depths of his easy-chair, and evidently half asleep, and
+stole out of the room on tiptoe.</p>
+<p>But his eyes opened very speedily as soon as the door closed
+upon her. It was not sleep he wanted, but some moral strength
+to bear a pain that threatened to be unendurable. How had that
+girl read his secret? Surely he had not betrayed himself! Nan
+had not discovered it, for her calmness and sweet unconsciousness
+had never varied in his presence. Never for an instant had
+her changing color testified to the faintest uneasiness. He
+understood the reason of her reserve now. Her thoughts had
+been with this Dick; and here Archie groaned and hid his
+face.</p>
+<p>Not mortally hurt, perhaps; but still the pain and the sense of
+loss were very bitter to this young man, who had felt for weeks
+past that his life was permeated by the sweetness and graciousness
+of Nan&#8217;s presence. How lovely she had seemed to him,&mdash;the
+ideal girl of his dreams! It was love at first sight. He
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span>
+knew that now. His man&#8217;s heart had been set on the hope of
+winning her, and now she was lost to him.</p>
+<p>Never for one moment had she belonged to him, or could belong
+to him. &#8220;He and Nan have cared for each other all their
+lives,&#8221;&mdash;that was what her sister had told him; and what remained
+but for him to stamp out this craze and fever before it
+mastered him and robbed him of his peace?</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am not the only man who has had to suffer,&#8221; thought
+Archie, as hours after he stumbled up to bed in the darkness.
+&#8220;At least, it makes it easier to know that no one shares my
+pain. These things are better battled out alone. I could not
+bear even Grace&#8217;s sympathy in this.&#8221; And yet as Archie said
+this to himself, he recalled without any bitterness the half-tender,
+half pitying look in Phillis&#8217;s eyes. &#8220;She was sorry for
+me. She saw it all; and it was kind of her to tell me,&#8221; thought
+the young man.</p>
+<p>He had no idea that Phillis was at that moment whispering
+little wistful prayers in the darkness that he might soon be comforted.</p>
+<p>Who knows how many such prayers are flung out into the
+deep of God&#8217;s mercy,&mdash;comfort for such a one whom we would
+fain comfort ourselves; feeble utterances and cries of pity; the
+stretching out of helpless hands, which nevertheless may bring
+down blessings? But so it shall be while men and women
+struggle and fall, and weep the tears common to humanity,
+&#8220;until all eyes are dried in the clear light of eternity, and the
+sorest heart shall then own the wisdom of the cross that had
+been laid upon them.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXXIII_THIS_IS_LIFE_AND_DEATH_TO_ME' id='CHAPTER_XXXIII_THIS_IS_LIFE_AND_DEATH_TO_ME'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;THIS IS LIFE AND DEATH TO ME.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Phillis found it difficult during the next few days to reconcile
+divided sympathies; a nice adjustment of conflicting feelings
+seemed almost impossible. Nan was so simply, so transparently
+happy, that no sister worthy of the name could refuse to
+rejoice with her: a creature so brimming over with gladness,
+with contented love, was certain to reflect heart-sunshine. On
+the other hand, there was Mr. Drummond! To be glad and
+sorry in a breath was as provoking to a feeling woman as the
+traveller&#8217;s blowing hot and cold was to the satyr in the fable.</p>
+<p>In trying to preserve an even balance Phillis became decidedly
+cross. She was one who liked a clear temperature,&mdash;neither
+torrid nor frigid. Too much susceptibility gave her an east-windy
+feeling; to be always at the fever-point of sympathy with
+one&#8217;s fellow-creatures would not have suited her at all.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span></p>
+<p>Nan, who possessed more sweetness of temper than keenness
+of psychological insight, could not understand what had come to
+Phillis. She was absent, a trifle sad, and yet full of retort. At
+times she seemed to brim over with a wordy wisdom that made
+no sort of impression.</p>
+<p>One evening, as they were retiring to bed, Nan beckoned her
+into her little room, and shut the door. Then she placed a seat
+invitingly by the open window, which was pleasantly framed
+by jasmine; and then she took hold of Phillis&#8217;s shoulders in a
+persuasive manner.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, dear,&#8221; she said, coaxingly, &#8220;you shall just tell me all
+about it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis looked up, a little startled. Then, as she met Nan&#8217;s
+gentle, penetrative glance, she presented a sudden blank of non-comprehension,
+most telling on such occasions, and yawned
+slightly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean, Nannie?&#8221; in a somewhat bored tone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come, dear, tell me,&#8221; continued Nan, with cheerful pertinacity.
+&#8220;You are never dull or touchy without some good
+reason. What has been the matter the last few days? Are you
+vexed or disappointed about anything? Are you sure&mdash;quite
+sure you are pleased about Dick?&#8221;&mdash;the idea occurring to her
+suddenly that Phillis might not approve of their imprudent
+engagement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Nannie, how absurd you are!&#8221; returned Phillis, pettishly.
+&#8220;Have I not told you a dozen times since Wednesday
+how delighted I am that you have come to an understanding?
+Have I not sounded his praises until I was hoarse? Why, if I
+had been in love with Dick myself I could not have talked about
+him more.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know you have been very good, dear; but still I
+felt there was something.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear, no!&#8221; returned Phillis decidedly, and her voice
+was a little hard. &#8220;The fact is, you are in the seventh heaven
+yourself, and you expect us to be there too. Not that I wonder
+at you, Nannie, because Dick&mdash;dear old fellow&mdash;is ever so
+nice.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She threw in this last clause not without intention, and of
+course the tempting bait took at once.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never knew any one half so good,&#8221; replied Nan, in a
+calmly satisfied tone. &#8220;You have hinted once or twice, Phil,
+that you thought him rather too young,&mdash;that our being the
+same age was a pity; but&mdash;do you know?&mdash;in Dick&#8217;s case it does
+not matter in the least. No man double his age could have
+made his meaning more plain, or have spoken better to the purpose.
+He is so strong and self-reliant and manly: and with all
+his fun, he is so unselfish.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He will make you a very good husband, Nan; I am sure of
+that.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think he will,&#8221; returned Nan, with a far-away look in her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span>
+eyes. She was recalling Dick&#8217;s speech about the nest that he
+wanted to make cosey for some one. &#8220;Phil, dear,&#8221; she went
+on, after this blissful pause, &#8220;I wish you had a Dick too.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good Gracious, Nannie!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I mean&mdash;you know what I mean,&mdash;some one to whom you
+are first, and who has a right to care for you; it gives such a
+meaning to one&#8217;s life. Of course it will come in time; no one
+can look at you and not prophesy a happy future: it is only I
+who am impatient and want it to come soon.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis wrinkled her brows thoughtfully over this speech: she
+seemed inclined to digest and assimilate it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I dare say you are right,&#8221; she replied, after a pause. &#8220;Yes
+it would be nice, no doubt.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;When the real <i>he</i> comes, you will find how nice it is,&#8221; rejoined
+Nan, with sympathetic readiness. &#8220;Do you know, Phil,
+the idea has once or twice occurred to me that Mr. Drummond
+comes rather often!&#8221; But here Phillis shook off her hand and
+started from her chair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is a moth singing its wings. Poor wee beastie! let
+me save it, if it be not too late.&#8221; And she chased the insect
+most patiently until the blue-gray wings fluttered into her
+hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, I have saved him from utter destruction!&#8221; she cried
+triumphantly, leaning out into the darkness. &#8220;He has scorched
+himself, that is all;&#8221; then as she walked back to her sister, her
+head was erect, and there was a beautiful earnest look upon her
+face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nannie, I don&#8217;t want to find fault with you, but don&#8217;t you
+remember how we used to pride ourselves, in the dear old days,
+in not being like other girls,&mdash;the Paines, for example, or even
+Adelaide Sartoris, who used to gossip so much about young
+men.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan opened her eyes widely at this, but made no answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We must not be different now, because our life is narrower
+and more monotonous. I know, talking so much over
+our work, we have terrible temptations to gossip; but I can&#8217;t
+bear to think that we should ever lower our standard, ever degenerate
+into the feeble girlishness we abhor. We never used to
+talk about young men, Nan, except Dick; and that did not
+matter. Of course we liked them in their places, and had
+plenty of fun, and tormented them a little; but you never
+made such a speech as that at Glen Cottage.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear! oh, dear! What have I done?&#8221; exclaimed
+Nan, much distressed at this rebuke. &#8220;I do think you are
+right, Phil; and it was naughty of me to put such a thing into
+your head.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have put no idea into my head,&#8221; replied Phillis, with
+crisp obstinacy. &#8220;There! I am only moralizing for my own
+good, as well as yours. Small beginnings make great endings.
+If we once began to gossip, we might end by flirting; and,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span>
+Nan, if you knew how I hate that sort of thing!&#8221; And Phillis
+looked grand and scornful.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, dear; and I know you are right,&#8221; returned Nan,
+humbly. She was not quite sure what she had done to provoke
+this outburst of high moral feeling: but she felt that Phillis
+was dreadfully in earnest. They kissed each other rather
+solemnly after that, and Phillis was suffered to depart in
+silence.</p>
+<p>That night there was no wistful little prayer that Mr. Drummond
+might be comforted: Phillis had too many petitions to
+offer up on her own account. She was accusing herself of pride,
+and Pharisaism, and hypocrisy, in no measured terms. &#8220;Not
+like other girls! I am worse,&mdash;worse,&#8221; she said to herself. And
+then, among other things, she asked for the gift of content,&mdash;for
+a quiet, satisfied spirit, not craving or embittered,&mdash;strength
+to bear her own and her friends&#8217; troubles, and far-looking faith
+to discern &#8220;God&#8217;s perfectness round our uncompleteness,&mdash;round
+our restlessness His rest.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The following evening, as Phillis was sorting out patterns in
+the work-room, a note was brought to her from the White
+House. It was in Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s handwriting, and, like herself,
+strangely abrupt.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your visits are like angels&#8217; visits,&mdash;extremely rare,&#8221; it began.
+&#8220;I am afraid I have frightened you away, as I have frightened
+the parson. I thought you had more wit than he to discern
+between mannerism and downright ill-humor. This evening
+the temperature is equable,&mdash;not the sign of a brooding cloud:
+so put on your hat, like a good girl, and come over. Miss Mewlstone
+and I will be prepared to welcome you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You had better go,&#8221; observed Nan, who had read the note
+over her sister&#8217;s shoulder: &#8220;you have worked so dreadfully hard
+all day, and it will be a little change.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No one cares for east winds as a change,&#8221; replied Phillis,
+dryly; nevertheless, she made up her mind that she would go.
+She was beginning to dread being summoned to the White
+House: she felt that Mrs. Cheyne alternately fascinated and
+repelled her. She was growing fond of Miss Mewlstone; but
+then, on these occasions, she had so little intercourse with her.
+The charitable instinct that was always ready to be kindled in
+Phillis&#8217;s nature prompted her to pay these visits; and yet she
+always went reluctantly.</p>
+<p>She had two encounters on the road, both of which she had
+foreseen with nice presentiment.</p>
+<p>The first was with Mr. Drummond.</p>
+<p>He was walking along slowly, with his eyes on the ground.
+A sort of flush came to his face when he saw Phillis; and then
+he stopped, and shook hands, and asked after them all comprehensively,
+yet with constraint in his voice. Phillis told him
+rather hurriedly that she was going to the White House: Mrs.
+Cheyne had sent for her.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span></p>
+<p>Archie smiled:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am glad she does not send for me. I have not been there
+for a long time. Sarcasm is not an attractive form of welcome.
+It slams the door in a man&#8217;s face. I hope you will not get
+some hard hits, Miss Challoner.&#8221; And then he went on his
+way.</p>
+<p>As she approached Mrs. Williams&#8217;s cottage, Mr. Dancy was,
+as usual, leaning against the little gate. He stepped out in the
+road, and accosted her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have not called on your mother,&#8221; he began, rather abruptly.
+&#8220;After all, I thought it best not to trouble her just now. Can
+you spare me a few minutes? or are you going in there?&#8221; looking
+towards the White House.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am rather in a hurry,&#8221; returned Phillis, surprised at his
+manner, it seemed so agitated. &#8220;I am already late, and Mrs.
+Cheyne will be expecting me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well: another time,&#8221; he replied, stepping back without
+further ceremony; but until Phillis&#8217;s figure disappeared in the
+trees he watched her, leaning still upon the little gate.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne received her with a frosty smile; but, on the
+whole, her manner was more gracious than usual, and by and
+by it thawed completely.</p>
+<p>She was a little captious at first, it was true, and she snubbed
+poor Miss Mewlstone decidedly once or twice,&mdash;but then Miss
+Mewlstone was used to being snubbed,&mdash;but with Phillis she was
+sparing of sarcasms. After a time she began to look kindly at the
+girl; then she bade her talk, rather peremptorily, because she
+liked her voice and found it pleasant to listen to her; and by
+and by Phillis grew more at her ease, and her girlish talk rippled
+on as smoothly as possible.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s face softened and grew strangely handsome as
+she listened: she was drawing Phillis out,&mdash;leading her to speak
+of the old life, and of all their youthful sources of happiness.
+Then she fell into a retrospect of her own young days, when she
+was a spoiled madcap girl and had all sorts of daring adventures.</p>
+<p>Phillis was quite fascinated; she was even disappointed when
+Miss Mewlstone pointed out the lateness of the hour.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have enjoyed myself so much,&#8221; she said, as she put on her
+hat.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I meant you to enjoy yourself,&#8221; returned Mrs. Cheyne,
+quietly, as she drew the girl&#8217;s face down to hers. &#8220;I have given
+you such a bad impression that you look on me as a sort of
+moral bugbear. I can be very different, when I like, and I have
+liked to be agreeable to-night.&#8221; And then this strange woman
+took up a rich cashmere shawl from the couch where she was
+lying, and folded it around Phillis&#8217;s shoulders. &#8220;The evenings
+are chilly. Jeffreys can bring this back with her;&#8221; for Mrs.
+Cheyne had already decided that this time her maid should
+accompany Phillis to the cottage.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span></p>
+<p>Phillis laughed in an amused fashion as she saw the reflection
+of herself in one of the mirrors: her figure looked quite queenly
+enveloped in the regal drapery. &#8220;She has forgotten all about
+the dressmaking,&#8221; she thought to herself, as she tripped downstairs.</p>
+<p>It was a lovely moonlight evening; the avenue was white and
+glistening in the soft light; the trees cast weird shadows on the
+grass. Phillis was somewhat surprised to see in the distance
+Mr. Dancy&#8217;s tall figure pacing to and fro before the lodge-gate.
+He was evidently waiting for her; for as she approached he
+threw away his cigar and joined her at once. Jeffreys, who
+thought he was some old acquaintance, dropped behind very
+discreetly, after the manner of waiting-women.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How long you have stayed this evening! I have been
+walking up and down for more than an hour, watching for you,&#8221;
+he began, with curious abruptness.</p>
+<p>This and no more did Jeffreys hear before she lingered out of
+earshot. The lady&#8217;s maid thought she perceived an interesting
+situation, and being of a susceptible and sympathetic temperament,
+with a blighted attachment of her own, there was no fear
+of her intruding. Phillis looked around once, but Jeffreys was
+absorbed in her contemplations of the clouds.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I thought you were never coming,&#8221; he continued; and then
+he stopped all at once, and caught hold of the fringe of the
+shawl. &#8220;This is not yours: I am sure I have seen Magdalene
+in it. Pshaw! what am I saying? the force of old habit. I
+knew her once as Magdalene.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is dreadfully heavy, and, after all, the evening is so
+warm,&#8221; returned Phillis, taking no notice of this incoherent
+speech.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let me carry it,&#8221; he rejoined, with singular eagerness; &#8220;it
+is absurd, a wrap like that on such a night.&#8221; And, while
+Phillis hesitated, he drew the shawl from her shoulders and
+hung it over his arm, and all the way his disengaged right
+hand rested on the folds, touching it softly from time to time,
+as though the mere feeling of the texture pleased him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How was she to-night?&#8221; he asked, coming a little closer to
+Phillis, and dropping his voice as he spoke.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who?&mdash;Mrs. Cheyne? Oh, she was charming! just a
+little cold and captious at first, but that is her way. But this
+evening she was bent on fascinating me, and she quite succeeded;
+she looked ill, though, but very, very beautiful.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She never goes out. I cannot catch a glimpse of her,&#8221; he
+returned, hurriedly. &#8220;Miss Challoner, I am going to startle&mdash;shock
+you, perhaps; but I have thought about it all until my
+head is dizzy, and there is no other way. Please give me your
+attention a moment,&#8221; for Phillis, with a vague sense of uneasiness,
+had looked around for Jeffreys. &#8220;I must see you alone:
+I must speak to you where we shall not be interrupted. To call
+on your mother will be no good; you and only you can help
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span>
+me. And you are so strong and merciful&mdash;I can read that in
+your eyes&mdash;that I am sure of your sympathy, if you will only
+give me a hearing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Dancy! oh, what can you mean?&#8221; exclaimed Phillis.
+She was dreadfully frightened at his earnestness, but her voice
+was dignified, and she drew herself away with a movement full
+of pride and <i>hauteur</i>. &#8220;You are a stranger to me; you have
+no right&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The good Samaritan was a stranger too. Have you forgotten
+that?&#8221; he returned, in a voice of grave rebuke. &#8220;Oh,
+you are a girl; you are thinking of your mother! I have
+shocked your sense of propriety, my child; for you seem a
+child to me, who have lived and suffered so much. Would you
+hesitate an instant if some poor famishing wretch were to ask
+you for food or water? Well, I am that poor wretch. What I
+have to tell you is a matter of life and death to me. Only a
+woman&mdash;only you&mdash;can help me; and you shrink because we
+have not had a proper introduction. My dear young lady, you
+have nothing to fear from me. I am unfortunate, but a gentleman,&mdash;a
+married man, if that will satisfy your scruples&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But my mother,&#8221; faltered Phillis, not knowing what to say
+to this unfortunate stranger, who terrified and yet attracted
+her by turns.</p>
+<p>Never had she heard a human voice so persuasive, and yet
+so agonized in its intensity. A conviction of the truth of his
+words seized upon her as she listened,&mdash;that he was unhappy,
+that he needed her sympathy for some purpose of his own, and
+yet that she herself had nothing to do with his purpose. But
+what would Nan say if she consented&mdash;if she acceded to such
+an extraordinary proposition&mdash;to appoint a meeting with a
+stranger?</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is life and death to me; remember that!&#8221; continued Mr.
+Dancy, in that low, suppressed voice of agitation. &#8220;If you
+refuse on the score of mere girlish propriety, you will regret it.
+I am sure of that. Trust to your own brave heart, and let it
+answer for you. Will you refuse this trifling act of mercy,&mdash;just
+to let me speak to you alone, and tell you my story? When
+you have heard that, you will take things into your own hands.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis hesitated, and grew pale with anxiety; but the instincts
+of her nature were stronger than her prudence. From
+the first she had believed in this man, and felt interested in him
+and his mysterious surroundings. &#8220;One may be deceived in
+a face, but never in a voice,&#8221; she had said, in her pretty dictatorial
+way; and now this voice was winning her over to his
+side.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is not right; but what can I do? You say I can help
+you.&#8221;&mdash;And then she paused. &#8220;To-morrow morning I have
+to take some work to Rock Building. I shall not be long. But
+I could go on the beach for half an hour. Nan would spare me.
+I might hear your story then.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span></p>
+<p>She spoke rapidly, and rather ungraciously, as though she
+were dispensing largess to a troublesome mendicant; but Mr.
+Dancy&#8217;s answer was humble in its intense gratitude.</p>
+<p>&#8220;God bless you! I knew your kind heart was to be trusted
+There! I will not come any farther. Good-night; good-night,
+a thousand thanks!&#8221; And, before Phillis could reply, this
+strange being had left her side, and was laying the cashmere
+shawl in Jeffreys&#8217;s arms slowly and tenderly, as though it were
+a child.</p>
+<p>Phillis was glad that Dulce opened the door to her that night,
+for she was afraid of Nan&#8217;s questioning glance. Nan was tired,
+and had retired early; and, as Dulce was sleepy too, Phillis was
+now left in peace. She passed the night restlessly, walking up
+at all sorts of untimely hours, her conscience pricking her into
+wakefulness. To her well-ordered nature there was something
+terrifying in the thought that she should be forced to take such
+a step.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, what would mother and Nan say?&#8221; was her one cry.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know I am dreadfully impulsive and imprudent, but Nan
+would think I am not to be trusted;&#8221; but she had passed her
+word, and nothing now would have induced her to swerve from
+it.</p>
+<p>She ate her breakfast silently, and with a sense of oppression
+and guilt quite new to her. She grew inwardly hot whenever
+Nan looked at her, which she did continually and with the
+utmost affection. Before the meal was over, however, Miss
+Middleton and Mattie made their appearance, and in the slight
+bustle of entrance Phillis managed to effect her escape.</p>
+<p>The hour that followed bore the unreality of a nightmare.
+Outwardly, Phillis was the grave, business-like dressmaker.
+The lady who had sent for her, and who was a stranger to Hadleigh,
+was much struck with her quiet self-possessed manners
+and lady-like demeanor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Her voice was quite refined,&#8221; she said afterwards to her
+daughter. &#8220;And she had such a nice face and beautiful figure.
+I am sure she is a reduced gentlewoman, for her accent was perfect.
+I am quite obliged to Miss Milner for recommending us
+such a person, for she evidently understands her business. One
+thing I noticed, Ada,&mdash;the way in which she quietly laid down
+the parcel, and said it should be fetched presently. Any ordinary
+dressmaker in a small town like this would have carried it
+home herself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Poor Phillis! she had laid down the parcel and drawn on her
+well-fitting gloves with a curious sinking at her heart: from the
+window of the house in Rock Building she could distinctly see
+Mr. Dancy walking up and down the narrow plat of grass before
+the houses, behind the tamarisk hedge, his foreign-looking
+cloak and slouch hat making him conspicuous.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is that queer-looking man again, mamma,&#8221; exclaimed
+one of the young ladies, who was seated in the window. &#8220;I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span>
+am sure he is some distinguished foreigner, he has such an air
+with him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis listened to no more, but hurried down the stairs and
+then prepared to cross the green with some degree of trepidation.
+She was half afraid that Mr. Dancy would join her at once,
+in the full view of curious eyes; but he knew better. He sauntered
+on slowly until she had reached the Parade and was going
+towards a part of the beach where there was only a knot of
+children wading knee-deep in the water, sailing a toy-boat. She
+stood and watched them dreamily, until the voice she expected
+sounded in her ear:</p>
+<p>&#8220;True as steel! Ah, I was never deceived in a face yet.
+Where shall we sit, Miss Challoner? Yes, this is a quiet corner,
+and the children will not disturb us. Look at that urchin,
+with his bare brown legs and curly head: is he not a study?
+Ah, if he had lived&mdash;my&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; And then he sighed, and threw
+himself on the beach.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; observed Phillis, interrogatively. She was inclined
+to be short with him this morning. She had kept her word,
+and put herself into this annoying position; but there must be
+no hesitation, no beating about the bush, no loss of precious
+time. The story she had now to hear must be told, and with
+out delay.</p>
+<p>Mr. Dancy raised his eyes as he heard the tone, and then he
+took off his spectacles as though he felt them an incumbrance.
+Phillis had a very good view of a pair of handsome eyes, with
+a lurking gleam of humor in them, which speedily died away
+into sadness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are in a hurry; but I was thinking how I could best
+begin without startling you. But I may as well get it out without
+any prelude. Miss Challoner, to Mrs. Williams I am only
+Mr. Dancy; but my real name is Herbert Dancy Cheyne.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXXIV_MISS_MEWLSTONE_HAS_AN_INTERRUPTION' id='CHAPTER_XXXIV_MISS_MEWLSTONE_HAS_AN_INTERRUPTION'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h2>
+<h3>MISS MEWLSTONE HAS AN INTERRUPTION.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>&#8220;<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Herbert Dancy Cheyne!</span>&#8221;</p>
+<p>As he pronounced the name slowly and with marked emphasis,
+a low cry of uncontrollable astonishment broke from Phillis:
+it was so unexpected. She began to shiver a little from the
+sudden shock.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There! I have startled you,&mdash;and no wonder; and yet
+how could I help it? Yes,&#8221; he repeated, calmly, &#8220;I am that unfortunate
+Herbert Cheyne whom his own wife believes to be
+dead.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Whom every one believes to be dead,&#8221; corrected Phillis, in
+a panting breath.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is it any wonder?&#8221; he returned, vehemently; and his
+eyes darkened, and his whole features worked, as though with
+the recollection of some unbearable pain. &#8220;Have I not been
+snatched from the very jaws of death? Has not mine been a
+living death, a hideous grave, for these four years?&#8221; And
+then, hurriedly and almost disconnectedly, as though the mere
+recalling the past was torture to him, he poured into the girl&#8217;s
+shrinking ears fragments of a story so stern in its reality, so
+terrible in its details, that, regardless of the children that
+played on the margin of the water, Phillis hid her face in her
+hands and wept for sheer pity.</p>
+<p>Wounded, bereft of all his friends, and left apparently dying
+in the hands of a hostile tribe, Herbert Cheyne had owed his
+life to the mercy of a woman, a poor, degraded ill-used creature,
+half-witted and ugly, but who had not lost all the instincts of
+her womanhood, and who fed and nursed the white stranger
+as tenderly as though he were her own son.</p>
+<p>While the old negress lived, Herbert Cheyne had been left in
+peace to languish back to life, through days and nights of intolerable
+suffering, until he had regained a portion of his old
+strength; then a fever carried off his protectress, and he became
+virtually a slave.</p>
+<p>Out of pity for the tender-hearted girl who listened to him,
+Mr. Cheyne hurried over this part of his sorrowful past. He
+spoke briefly of indignities, abuse, and at last of positive ill
+treatment. Again and again his life had been in danger from
+brute violence; again and again he had striven to escape, and
+had been recaptured with blows.</p>
+<p>Phillis pointed mutely to his scarred wrists, and the tears
+flowed down her cheeks.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes; these are the marks of my slavery,&#8221; he replied,
+bitterly. &#8220;They were a set of hideous brutes; and the fetish
+they worshipped was cruelty. I carry about me other marks
+that must go with me to my grave; but there is no need to
+dwell on these horrors. He sent His angel to deliver me,&#8221; he
+continued, reverently; &#8220;and again my benefactor was a
+woman.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And then he went on to tell Phillis that one of the wives of
+the chief in whose service he was took pity on him, and aided
+him to escape on the very night before some great festival,
+when it had been determined to kill him. This time he had
+succeeded; and, after a series of hair-breadth adventures, he
+had fallen in with some Dutch traders who had come far into
+the interior in search of ivory tusks. He was so burnt by the
+sun and disfigured by paint that he had great difficulty in proving
+his identity as an Englishman. But at last they had suffered
+him to join them, and after some more months of wandering
+he had worked his way to the coast.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span></p>
+<p>There misfortune bad again overtaken him, in the form of a
+long and tedious illness. Fatigue, disaster, anguish of mind,
+and a slight sunstroke had taken dire effect upon him; but this
+time he had fallen into the hands of good Samaritans. The
+widowed sister of the consul, a very Dorcas of good works, had
+received the miserable stranger into her house; and she and
+her son, like Elijah&#8217;s widow of Zarephath, had shared with him
+their scanty all.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They were very poor, but they pinched themselves for the
+sake of the stricken wretch that was thrown on their mercy.
+It was a woman again who succored me the third time,&#8221; continued
+Mr. Cheyne: &#8220;you may judge how sacred women are
+in my eyes now! Dear motherly Mrs. Van Hollick! when she
+at last suffered me to depart, she kissed and blessed me as
+though I were her own son. Never to my dying day shall I forget
+her goodness. My one thought, after seeing Magdalene,
+will be how I am to repay her goodness,&mdash;how I can make prosperity
+flow in on the little household, that the cruse and cake
+may never fail!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But,&#8221; interrupted Phillis at this point, &#8220;did you not write,
+or your friends write for you, to England?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Cheyne smiled bitterly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;It seems as though some strange fatality were over me.
+Yes, I wrote. I wrote to Magdalene, to my lawyer, and to
+another friend who had known me all my life, but the ship
+that carried these letters was burnt at sea. I only heard that
+when I at last worked my way to Portsmouth as a common
+sailor and in that guise presented myself at my lawyer&#8217;s chambers.
+Poor man! I thought he would have fainted when he
+saw me. He owned afterwards he was a believer in ghosts at
+that moment.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How long ago was that?&#8221; asked Phillis, gently.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Two months; not longer. It was then I heard of my children&#8217;s
+death, of my wife&#8217;s long illness and her strange state.
+I was ill myself, and not fit to battle through any more scenes.
+Mr. Standish took me home until I had rested and recovered
+myself a little; and then I put on this disguise&mdash;not that much
+of that is necessary, for few people would recognize me, I believe&mdash;and
+came down here and took possession of Mrs. Williams&#8217;s
+lodgings.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis looked at him with mute questioning in her eyes.
+She did not venture to put it into words, but he understood
+her:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why have I waited so long, do you ask? and why am I
+living here within sight of my own house, a spy on my own
+threshold and wife? My dear Miss Challoner, there is a bitter
+reason for that!</p>
+<p>&#8220;Four years ago I parted from my wife in anger. There
+were words said that day that few women could forgive. Has
+she forgiven them? That is what I am trying to find out.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span>
+Will the husband who has been dead to her all these years be
+welcome to her living?&#8221; His voice dropped into low vehemence,
+and a pallor came over his face as he spoke.</p>
+<p>Phillis laid her hand on his own. She looked strangely eager:</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is why you want my help. Ah! I see now! Oh, it
+is all right&mdash;all that you can wish! It is she who is tormenting
+herself, who has no rest day or night! When the thunder
+came that evening&mdash;you remember&mdash;we sat beside the children&#8217;s
+empty beds, and she told me some of her thoughts. When the
+lighting flashed, her nerves gave way, and she cried out, in her
+pain, &#8216;Did he forgive?&#8217; That was her one thought. Her husband,&mdash;who
+was up in heaven with the children,&mdash;did he think
+mercifully of her, and know how she loved him? It was your
+name that was on her lips when that good woman, Miss
+Mewlstone, hushed her in her arms like a child. Oh, be comforted!&#8221;
+faltered Phillis, &#8220;for she loves you, and mourns for
+you as though she were the most desolate creature living!&#8221;
+But here she paused, for something that sounded like a sob came
+to her ear, and looking round, she saw the bowed figure of her
+companion shaking with uncontrollable emotion,&mdash;those hard
+tearless sobs that are only wrung from a man&#8217;s strong agony.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, hush!&#8221; cried the girl, tenderly. &#8220;Be comforted:
+there is no room for doubt. There! I will leave you; you will
+be better by and by.&#8221; And then instinctively she turned away
+her face from a grief too sacred for a stranger to touch, and
+walked down to the water, where the children had ceased playing,
+and listened to the baby waves that lapped about her feet.</p>
+<p>And by and by he joined her; and on his pale face there was
+a rapt, serious look, as of one who has despaired and has just
+listened to an angel&#8217;s tidings.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did I not say that you, and only you, could help me? This
+is what I have wanted to know: had Magdalene forgiven me?
+Now I need wait no longer. My wife and home are mine, and
+I must take possession of my treasures.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He stopped, as though overcome by the prospect of such happiness;
+but Phillis timidly interposed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, Mr. Cheyne, think a moment. How is it to be managed?
+If you are in too great a hurry, will not the shock be too
+much for her? She is nervous,&mdash;excitable. It would hardly
+be safe.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That is what troubles me,&#8221; he returned, anxiously. &#8220;It is
+too much for any woman to bear; and Magdalene&mdash;she was
+always excitable. Tell me, you have such good sense; and,
+though you are so young, one can always rely on a woman;
+you understand her so well&mdash;I see you do&mdash;and she is fond of
+you,&mdash;how shall we act that my poor darling, who has undergone
+so much, may not be harmed by me any more?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wait one moment,&#8221; returned Phillis, earnestly. &#8220;I must
+consider.&#8221; And she set herself to revolve all manner of possibilities,
+and then rejected them one by one. &#8220;There seems no
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span>
+other way,&#8221; she observed, at last, fixing her serious glance on
+Mr. Cheyne. &#8220;I must seek for an opportunity to speak to Miss
+Mewlstone. It must be broken carefully to your poor wife; I
+am sure of that. Miss Mewlstone will help us. She will tell us
+what to do, and how to do it. Oh, she is so kind, so thoughtful
+and tender, just as though Mrs. Cheyne were a poor wayward
+child, who must be guided and helped and shielded. I like her
+so much: we must go to her for counsel.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must indeed, and at once!&#8221; he returned, rather peremptorily;
+and Phillis had a notion now what manner of man
+he had been before misfortunes had tamed and subdued him.
+His eyes flashed with eagerness; he grew young, alert, full of
+life in a moment. &#8220;Forgive me if I am too impetuous; but I
+have waited so long, and now my patience seems exhausted all
+at once during the last hour. I have been at fever-point ever
+since you have proved to me that my wife&mdash;my Magdalene&mdash;has
+been true to me. Fool that I was! why have I doubted so
+long? Miss Challoner, you will not desert me?&mdash;you will be
+my good angel a little longer? You will go to Miss Mewlstone
+now,&mdash;this very moment,&mdash;and ask her to prepare my wife?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is time for me to be going home: mother and Nan will
+think I am lost,&#8221; returned Phillis, in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone.
+&#8220;Come Mr. Cheyne, we can talk as we go along.&#8221; For he was
+so wan and agitated that she felt uneasy for his sake. She took
+his arm gently, and guided him as though he were a child; and
+he obeyed her like one.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Promise me that you will speak to her at once,&#8221; he said, as
+he walked beside her rather feebly; and his gait became all at
+once like that of an old man. But Phillis fenced this remark
+very discreetly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This afternoon or this evening, when I get the chance,&#8221; she
+said, very decidedly: &#8220;if I am to help you, it must be as I
+think best, and at my own time. Do not think me unkind, for
+I am doing this for your own good: it would not help you if
+your wife were to be brought to the brink of a nervous illness.
+Leave it to me. Miss Mewlstone will serve us best, and she will
+know.&#8221; And then she took her hand from his arm, and bade
+him drop behind a little, that she might not be seen in the town
+walking with him. &#8220;Good-bye! keep up your courage. I will
+help you all I can,&#8221; she said, with a kindly smile, as he reluctantly
+obeyed her behest. She was his good angel, but he must
+not walk any longer in her shadow: angels do their good deeds
+invisibly, as Phillis hoped to do hers. He thought of this as he
+watched her disappearing in the distance.</p>
+<p>Phillis walked rapidly towards the cottage. Archie, who
+was letting himself in at his own door, saw the girl pass, carrying
+her head high, and stepping lightly as though she were
+treading on air. &#8220;Here comes Atalanta,&#8221; he said to himself;
+but, though a smile came over his tired face, he made no effort
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span>
+to arrest her. The less he saw of any of them the better, he
+thought, just now.</p>
+<p>Nan looked up reproachfully as the truant entered the work-room,
+and Mrs. Challoner wore her gravest expression; evidently
+she had prepared a lecture for the occasion. Phillis
+looked at them both with sparkling eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Listen to me, Nan and mother. Oh, I am glad Dulce is not
+here, she is so young and giddy; and she might talk&mdash;No, not
+a word from either of you, until I have had my turn.&#8221; And
+then she began her story.</p>
+<p>Nan listened with rapt speechless attention, but Mrs. Challoner
+gave vent to little pitying moans and exclamations of
+dismay.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my child!&#8221; she kept saying, &#8220;to think of your being
+mixed up in such an adventure! How could you be so imprudent
+and daring? Mrs. Williams&#8217;s lodger&mdash;a strange man! in
+that outlandish cloak, too! and you walked home with him
+that dark night! Oh, Phillis, I shall never be at peace about
+you again!&#8221; and so on.</p>
+<p>Phillis bore all this patiently, for she knew she had been incautious:
+and when her mother&#8217;s excitement had calmed down
+a little, she unfolded to them her plan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I must see Miss Mewlstone quite alone; and that unfinished
+French merino will be such a good excuse, Nan. I will
+take the body with me this afternoon, and beg her to let me try it
+on; the rest must come afterwards, but this will be the best
+way of getting her to myself.&#8221; And, as Nan approved of this
+scheme, and Mrs. Challoner did not dissent, Phillis had very
+soon made up her parcel, and was walking rapidly towards the
+White House.</p>
+<p>As she turned in at the gates she could see a shadow on the
+blind in Mrs. Williams&#8217;s little parlor, and waved her hand towards
+it. He was watching her, she knew: she longed to go
+back and give him a word of encouragement and exhortation
+to patience; but some one, Mr. Drummond perhaps, might see
+her, and she dare not venture.</p>
+<p>She sent her message by Jeffreys, and Miss Mewlstone soon
+came trotting into the room; but she wore a slightly-disturbed
+expression on her good-natured face.</p>
+<p>She had been reading the third volume of a very interesting
+novel, and had most unwillingly laid down her book at the
+young dressmaker&#8217;s unseasonable request. Like many other
+stout people, Miss Mewlstone was more addicted to passivity
+than activity after her luncheon; and, being a creature of
+habit, this departure from her usual rules flurried her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear, dear! to think of your wanting to try on that French
+merino again!&#8221; she observed; &#8220;and the other dress fitted so
+beautifully, and no trouble at all. And there has Miss Middleton
+being calling just now, and saying they are expecting her
+brother Hammond home from India in November; and it is
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span>
+getting towards the end of September now. I was finishing my
+book, but I could not help listening to her,&mdash;she has such a
+sweet voice. Ah, just so&mdash;just so. But aren&#8217;t you going to
+open your parcel, my dear?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never mind the dress,&#8221; returned Phillis, quickly. &#8220;Dear
+Miss Mewlstone, I was sorry to disturb you; but it could not
+be helped. Don&#8217;t look at the parcel: that is only an excuse.
+My business is far more important. I want you to put on your
+bonnet, and come with me just a little way across the road.
+There is some one&#8217;s identity that you must prove.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis was commencing her task in a somewhat lame fashion;
+but Miss Mewlstone was still too much engrossed with her
+novel to notice her visitor&#8217;s singular agitation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, just so&mdash;just so,&#8221; she responded; &#8220;that is exactly
+what the last few chapters have been about. The real heir has
+turned up, and is trying to prove his own identity; only he is
+so changed that no one believes him. It is capitally worked
+out. A very clever author, my dear&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>But Phillis interrupted her a little eagerly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is that your tale, dear Miss Mewlstone? How often people
+say truth is stranger than fiction! Do you know, I have
+heard a story in real life far more wonderful than that? Some
+one was telling me about it just now. There was a man whom
+every one, even his own wife, believed to be dead; but after
+four years of incredible dangers and hardships&mdash;oh, such hardships!&mdash;he
+arrived safely in England, and took up his abode
+just within sight of his old house, where he could see his wife
+and find out all about her without being seen himself. He put
+on some sort of disguise, I think, so that people could not find
+him out.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That must be a make-up story, I think,&#8221; returned Miss
+Mewlstone, a little provokingly; but her head was still full of
+her book. Poor woman! she wanted to get back to it. She
+looked at Phillis and the parcel a little plaintively. &#8220;Ah, just
+so,&mdash;a very pretty story, but improbable,&mdash;very improbable,
+my dear.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nevertheless, it is true!&#8221; returned Phillis, so vehemently
+that Miss Mewlstone&#8217;s little blue eyes opened more widely.
+&#8220;Never mind your book. I tell you I have business so important
+that nothing is of consequence beside it. Where is Mrs.
+Cheyne? She must not know we are going out.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Going out!&#8221; repeated Miss Mewlstone, helplessly. &#8220;My
+dear, I never go out after luncheon, as Magdalene knows.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But you are going out with me,&#8221; replied Phillis, promptly.
+&#8220;Dear Miss Mewlstone, I know I am perplexing and worrying
+you; but what can I do? Think over what I have just said,&mdash;about&mdash;about
+that improbable story, as you called it; and
+then, you will not be so dreadfully startled. You must come
+with me now to Mrs. Williams&#8217;s cottage: I want you to see
+her lodger.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Her lodger!&#8221; Miss Mewlstone was fully roused now; and,
+indeed, Phillis&#8217;s pale face and suppressed eager tones were not
+without their due effect. Had the girl taken leave of her
+senses? Why, the ladies at the White House led the lives of
+recluses. Why should she be asked to call upon any stranger,
+but especially a gentleman,&mdash;Mrs. Williams&#8217;s lodger? &#8220;My
+dear,&#8221; she faltered, &#8220;you are very strange this afternoon.&mdash;Magdalene
+and I seldom call on any one, and certainly not on gentlemen.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must come with me,&#8221; replied Phillis, half crying with
+excitement. She found her task so difficult. Miss Mewlstone
+was as yielding as a feather bed in appearance, and yet it was
+impossible to move her. &#8220;He calls himself Mr. Dancy; but
+now he says that is not all his name: let me whisper it in your
+ear, if it will not startle you too much. Think of Mrs. Cheyne,
+and try and command yourself. Mrs. Williams&#8217;s lodger says
+that he is Herbert Cheyne,&mdash;poor Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s husband!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXXV_BARBY_DONT_YOU_RECOLLECT_ME' id='XXXV_BARBY_DONT_YOU_RECOLLECT_ME'></a>
+<h2>XXXV.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;BARBY, DON&#8217;T YOU RECOLLECT ME?&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>&#8220;I do not believe it!&mdash;stuff and nonsense! You are crazy,
+child, to come to me with this trumped-up story! The man is
+an impostor. I will have the police to him. For heaven&#8217;s sake
+don&#8217;t let Magdalene hear this nonsense!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis recoiled a few steps, speechless with amazement.
+Miss Mewlstone&#8217;s face was crimson; her small eyes were sparkling
+with angry excitement: all her softness and gentle inanity
+had vanished.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Give me a bonnet,&mdash;shawl,&mdash;anything, and I will put this
+matter straight in a moment. Where is Jeffreys? Ring the
+bell, please, Miss Challoner! I must speak to her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis obeyed without a word.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, just so. Jeffreys,&#8221; resuming her old purring manner
+as the maid appeared, &#8220;this young lady has a friend in trouble,
+and wants me to go down to the cottage with her. Keep it from
+your mistress if you can, for she hates hearing of anything sad;
+say we are busy,&mdash;I shall be in to tea,&mdash;anything. I know you
+will be discreet, Jeffreys.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, ma&#8217;am,&#8221; returned Jeffreys, adjusting the shawl over
+Miss Mewlstone&#8217;s shoulders; &#8220;but this is your garden-shawl,
+surely?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, it does not matter; it will do very well. Now Miss
+Challoner, I am ready.&#8221; And so noiseless and rapid were her
+movements that Phillis had much to do to keep up with her.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Won&#8217;t you listen to me?&#8221; she pleaded. &#8220;Dear Miss Mewlstone,
+it is no made-up story; it is all true;&#8221; but to her astonishment,
+Miss Mewlstone faced round upon her in a most indignant
+manner:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Be silent, child! I cannot, and will not, hear any more.
+How should you know anything about it? Have you ever seen
+Herbert Cheyne? You are the tool of some impostor. But I
+will guard Magdalene; she shall not be driven mad. No, no,
+poor dear! she shall not, as long as she has old Bathsheba to
+watch over her.&#8221; And Phillis, in despair, very wisely held her
+peace. After all she was a stranger: had she any proof but Mr.
+Dancy&#8217;s word?</p>
+<p>Just towards the last, Miss Mewlstone&#8217;s pace slackened; and
+her hand shook so, as she tried to unlatch the little gate, that
+Phillis was obliged to come to her assistance. The cottage
+door stood open as usual, but there was no tall figure lurking
+in the background,&mdash;no shadow on the blind.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We had better go in there,&#8221; whispered Phillis, pointing to
+the closed door of the parlor; and Miss Mewlstone, without
+knocking, at once turned the handle and went in, while Phillis
+followed trembling.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, sir,&#8221; said Miss Mewlstone, sternly, &#8220;I have come to
+know what you mean by imposing your story on this child.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Dancy, who was standing with his back to them, leaning
+for support against the little mantle-shelf, did not answer for a
+moment; and then he turned slowly round, and looked at
+her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Barby!&#8221; he said; &#8220;don&#8217;t you recollect me?&#8221; And
+then he held out his thin hands to her imploringly, and added
+&#8220;Dear old Barby! but you are not a bit changed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Herbert&mdash;why, good heavens! Ah, just so&mdash;just so,&#8221;
+gasped the poor lady, rather feebly, as she sat down, feeling her
+limbs were deserting her, and every scrap of color left her face.
+Indeed, she looked so flabby and lifeless that Phillis was alarmed
+and flew to her assistance; only Mr. Cheyne waved her aside
+rather impatiently.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let her be; she is all right. She knows me, you see: so I
+cannot be so much altered. Barby,&#8221; he went on, in a coaxing
+voice, as he knelt beside her and chafed her hands, &#8220;you
+thought I was an impostor, and were coming to threaten me:
+were you not? But now you see Miss Challoner was in the
+right. Have you not got a word for me? Won&#8217;t you talk to
+me about Magdalene? We have got to prepare her, you
+know.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then, as he spoke his wife&#8217;s name, and she remembered her
+sacred charge, the faithful creature suddenly fell on his neck in
+piteous weeping.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, the bonnie face,&#8221; she wept, &#8220;that has grown so old,
+with the sorrow and the gray hair! My dear, this will just
+kill her with joy, after all her years of bitter widowhood.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span>
+And then she cried again, and stroked his face as though he
+were a child, and then wrung her hands for pity at the changes
+she saw. &#8220;It is the same face, and yet not the same,&#8221; she said,
+by and by. &#8220;I knew the look of your eyes, my bonnie man,
+for all they were so piercing with sadness. But what have they
+done to you, Herbert?&mdash;for it might be your own ghost,&mdash;so
+thin; and yet you are brown, too; and your hair!&#8221; And she
+touched the gray locks over the temples with tender fluttering
+fingers.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Magdalene never liked gray hairs,&#8221; he responded, with a
+sigh. &#8220;She is as beautiful as ever, I hear; but I have not
+caught a glimpse of her. Tell me, Barby,&mdash;for I have grown
+timorous with sorrow,&mdash;will she hate the sight of such a miserable
+scarecrow?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear! hate the sight of her own husband, who is given
+back to her from the dead? Ay, I have much to hear. Why
+did you never write to us, Herbert? But there! you have all
+that to explain to her by and by.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; and you must tell me about the children,&mdash;my little
+Janie,&#8221; he returned, in a choked voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, the dear angels! But, Herbert, you must be careful.
+Nobody speaks of them to Magdalene, unless she does herself.
+You are impetuous, my dear; and Magdalene&mdash;well, she has not
+been herself since you left her. It is pining, grief, and the dead
+weight of loss that has ailed her being childless and widowed
+at once. There, there! just so. We must be tender of her,
+poor dear! and things will soon come right.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You need not fear me, Barby. I have learned my lesson at
+last. If I only get my wife back, you shall see&mdash;you shall see
+how I will make up to her for all I have ever made her suffer!
+My poor girl! my poor girl!&#8221; And then he shaded his face,
+and was silent.</p>
+<p>Phillis had stolen out in the garden, and sat down on a little
+bench outside, where passers-by could not discern her from the
+road, and where only the sound of their voices reached her
+faintly. Now and then, chance words fell on her ear,&mdash;&#8220;Magdalene&#8221;
+over and over again; and &#8220;Janie&#8221; and &#8220;Bertie,&#8221;&mdash;always
+in the voice she had so admired. By and by she heard
+her own name, and rose at once, and found them looking for
+her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Here is my good angel, Barby,&#8221; observed Mr. Cheyne, as
+she came up smiling. &#8220;Not one girl in a thousand would have
+acted as bravely and simply as she has done. We are friends
+for life, Miss Challoner, are we not?&#8221; And he stretched out
+his hand to her, and Phillis laid her own in it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was a bit harsh with you, dearie, was I not?&#8221; returned
+Miss Mewlstone, apologetically: &#8220;but there! you were such a
+child that I thought you had been deceived. But I ought to
+have known better, craving your pardon, my dear. Now we
+will just go back to Magdalene; and you must help my stupid
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span>
+old head, for I am fairly crazy at the thought of telling her.
+Go back into the parlor and lie down, Herbert, for you are terribly
+exhausted. You must have patience, my man, a wee bit
+longer, for we must be cautious,&mdash;cautious, you see.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I must have patience,&#8221; he responded, rather bitterly.
+But he went back into the room and watched them until they
+disappeared into the gates of his own rightful paradise.</p>
+<p>Miss Mewlstone was leaning on Phillis&#8217;s arm. Her gait was
+still rather feeble, but the girl was talking energetically to her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What a spirit she has! just like Magdalene at her age,&#8221;
+he thought, &#8220;only Magdalene never possessed her even temper.
+My poor girl! From what Barby says, she has grown hard
+and bitter with trouble. But it shall be my aim in life to
+comfort her for all she has been through!&#8221; And then, as he
+thought of his dead children, and of the empty nursery, he
+groaned, and threw himself face downward upon the couch.
+But a few minutes afterwards he had started up again, unable
+to rest, and began to pace the room; and then, as though the
+narrow space confined him, he continued his restless walk
+into the garden, and then into the shrubberies of the White
+House.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear, I am not as young as I was. I feel as if all this
+were too much for me,&#8221; sighed Miss Mewlstone, as she pressed
+her companion&#8217;s arm. &#8220;One needs so much vitality to bear
+such scenes. I am terrified for Magdalene, she has so little self-control!
+and to have him given back to her from the dead! I
+thank God! but I am afraid, for all that.&#8221; And a few more
+quiet tears stole over her cheeks.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thinking of it only makes it worse,&#8221; returned Phillis, feverishly.
+She, too, dreaded the ordeal before them; but she was
+young, and not easily daunted. All the way through the shrubbery
+she talked on breathlessly, trying to rally her own courage.
+It was she who entered the drawing-room first, for poor
+Miss Mewlstone had to efface the signs of her agitation.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne looked up, surprised to see her alone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jeffreys told me you and Miss Mewlstone had gone out together
+on a little business. What have you done with poor old
+Barby?&#8221; And, as Phillis answered as composedly and demurely
+as she could, Mrs. Cheyne arched her eyebrows in her old satirical
+way:</p>
+<p>&#8220;She is in her room, is she? Never mind answering, if you
+prefer your own counsel. Your little mysteries are no business
+of mine. I should have thought the world would have come to
+an end, though, before Barby had thrown down the third volume
+of a novel for anything short of a fire. But you and she know
+best.&#8221; And, as Phillis flushed and looked confused under her
+scrutiny, she gave a short laugh and turned away.</p>
+<p>It was a relief when Miss Mewlstone came trotting into the
+room with her cap-strings awry.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear, dear! have we kept you waiting for your tea, Magdalene?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span>
+she exclaimed, in a flurried tone, as she bustled up
+to the table. &#8220;Miss Challoner had a little business, and she
+thought I might help her. Yes; just so! I have brought her
+in, for she is tired, poor thing! and I knew she would be welcome.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It seems to me that you are both tired. You are as hot as
+though you had walked for miles, Barby. Oh, you have your
+secrets too. But it is not for me to meddle with mysteries.&#8221;
+And then she laughed again, and threw herself back on her
+couch, with a full understanding of the discomfort of the two
+people before her.</p>
+<p>Phillis saw directly she was in a hard, cynical mood.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You shall know our business by and by,&#8221; she said, very
+quietly. &#8220;Dear Miss Mewlstone, I am so thirsty, I must ask
+you for another cup of tea.&#8221; But, as Miss Mewlstone took the
+cup from her, the poor lady&#8217;s hand shook so with suppressed
+agitation that the saucer slipped from her grasp, and the next
+moment the costly china lay in fragments at her feet.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear! dear!&mdash;how dreadfully careless of me!&#8221; fumed Miss
+Mewlstone.</p>
+<p>But Mrs. Cheyne made no observation. She only rang the
+bell, and ordered another cup. But, when the servant had withdrawn,
+she said, coldly,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your hand is not as steady as usual this evening, Barby;&#8221;
+and somehow the sharp incisive tone cut so keenly that, to
+Phillis&#8217;s alarm, Miss Mewlstone became very pale, and then suddenly
+burst into tears.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is too much!&#8221; observed Mrs. Cheyne, rising in serious
+displeasure. She had almost a masculine abhorrence to tears of
+late years; the very sight of them excited her strangely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Challoner may keep her mysteries to herself if she
+likes, but I insist on knowing what has upset you like this.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh dear! oh, dear!&#8221; sobbed the simple woman, wringing
+her hands helplessly. &#8220;This is just too much for me! Poor
+soul, how am I to tell her?&#8221; And then she looked at Phillis
+in affright at her own words, which revealed so much and so
+little.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne turned exceedingly pale, and a shadow passed
+over her face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Poor soul!&#8217; does she mean me? Is it of me you are speaking,
+Barby? Is there something for me to know, that you
+dread to tell me? Poor soul, indeed!&#8221; And then her features
+contracted and grew pinched. &#8220;But you need not be afraid.
+Is it not the Psalmist who says, &#8216;All thy waves and thy billows
+have gone over me&#8217;? Drowned people have nothing to fear:
+there is no fresh trouble for them.&#8221; And her eyes took an awful
+stony look that terrified Phillis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, it is no fresh trouble!&#8221; stammered the girl. &#8220;People
+are not tormented like that: they have not to suffer more than
+they can bear.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span></p>
+<p>But Mrs. Cheyne turned upon her fiercely:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are wrong, altogether wrong. I could not bear it, and
+it drove me mad,&mdash;at least as nearly mad as a sane woman could
+be. I felt my reason shaken; my brain was all aflame, and I
+cried out to heaven for mercy; and a blank answered me.
+Barby, if there be fresh trouble, tell me instantly, and at once.
+What do I care? What is left to me, but a body that will not
+die, and a brain that will not cease to think? If I could only
+stop the thoughts! if I could only go down into silence and nothingness!
+but then I should not find Herbert and the children.
+Where are they? I forget!&#8221; She stopped, pressed her hands
+to her brow with a strange bewildered expression; but Miss
+Mewlstone crept up to her, and touched her timidly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My bonnie Magdalene!&#8221; she exclaimed; &#8220;don&#8217;t let the ill
+thoughts come; drive them away, my poor dear. Look at me.
+Did old Barby ever deceive you? There is no fresh trouble, my
+pretty. In his own good time the All-Merciful has had
+mercy!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s hand dropped down to her sides, but her brilliant
+eyes showed no comprehension of her words.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why did you frighten me like that?&#8221; she repeated, rocking
+herself to and fro; and her voice had a high, strained tone in it.
+&#8220;There is no trouble, but your face is pale, and there are tears
+in your eyes; and look how your hand shakes! Miss Challoner&mdash;Phillis,
+what does she mean? Barby, you are a foolish old
+woman; your wits are gone.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If they are gone, it is with joy!&#8221; she sobbed. &#8220;Yes, my
+precious one! for sheer joy!&#8221; but then she broke down utterly.
+It was Phillis who came to the rescue.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear Mrs. Cheyne, I think I could tell you best,&#8221; she began,
+in her sweet sensible voice, which somehow stilled Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s
+frightful agitation. &#8220;There has been some news,&mdash;a letter that
+has been lost, which ought to have arrived months ago. We
+have heard about it this afternoon.&#8221; She stopped, for there
+seemed to be a faint sound of footsteps in the hall below. Could
+he have followed them? What would be the result of such imprudence?
+But, as she faltered and hesitated, Mrs. Cheyne
+gripped her arm with an iron force:</p>
+<p>&#8220;A letter from Herbert! Did he write to me? oh, my darling!
+did he write to me before he died? Only one word&mdash;one
+word of forgiveness, and I will say heaven indeed is merciful!
+Give it to me, Barby! Why do you keep me waiting? Oh,
+this is blessed, blessed news!&#8221; But Miss Mewlstone only clasped
+her gently in her arms.</p>
+<p>&#8220;One moment, my dearie! There is more than that. It is
+not a message from heaven. There is still one living on earth
+that loves you! Try and follow my meaning,&#8221; for the perplexed
+stare had returned again. &#8220;Say to yourself, &#8216;Perhaps, after
+all, Herbert is not dead. Nobody saw him die. He may be
+alive; he may have written to me&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; She stopped, for Mrs.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span>
+Cheyne had suddenly flung up her arms over her head with a
+hoarse cry, that rang through the house:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Herbert! Herbert! Herbert!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am here,&mdash;Magdalene! Magdalene!&#8221; A tall figure that
+had crept unperceived through the open hall door, and had
+lurked unseen in the shadow of the portiere, suddenly dashed
+into the room, and took his wife&#8217;s rigid form into his arms.
+&#8220;Magdalene!&mdash;love&mdash;wife! It is Herbert! Look up, my darling!&mdash;I
+am here! I am holding you!&#8221; But there was no response.
+Magdalene&#8217;s face was like the face of the dead.</p>
+<p>They took her from him almost by force, for he refused to
+give her up. Over and over again they prayed him to leave
+her to their care, but he seemed like a deaf man that did not
+hear.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She is dead! I have killed her; but there is no reason
+why I should give her up,&#8221; he had said, with terrible calm in
+his voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She is not dead!&#8221; returned Miss Mewlstone, almost angrily.
+&#8220;She has been like this before; but Jeffreys and I know what
+to do. Ay, you were always wilful, Herbert; but when it
+comes to killing your own wife&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; And after this he consented
+to lay her down on her couch.</p>
+<p>He watched them with wistful eyes as they tried the usual
+remedies; but it was long before even the flicker of an eyelid
+spoke to them of life. At the first sign of returning animation
+Herbert crept just behind his wife&#8217;s pillow, where he could see
+the first unclosing of the drooping lids. When Magdalene
+opened her eyes at last, they fell full on her husband&#8217;s face.</p>
+<p>Phillis, who was beside her, marvelled at the strange beauty
+of that rapt look, as she lay and gazed at him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Herbert&#8217;s face!&#8221; they heard her whisper, in an awe-struck
+voice. &#8220;Then I have died at last, and am in heaven. Oh,
+how merciful! but I have not deserved it,&mdash;a sinner such
+as I.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Magdalene, my darling, you are in our own home! It is I
+who was lost, and have come back to you. Look at me. It is
+only the children that are in heaven. You and I are spared to
+each other on earth.&#8221; But for a long time her scattered faculties
+failed to grasp the truth.</p>
+<p>Phillis went home at last, and left them. There was nothing
+she could do, and she was utterly spent; but Miss Mewlstone
+kept watch beside her charge until late into the night.</p>
+<p>Little by little the truth dawned slowly on the numbed brain;
+slowly and by degrees the meaning of her husband&#8217;s tears and
+kisses sank into the clouded mind. Now and again she wandered,
+but Herbert&#8217;s voice always recalled her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I am not dead?&#8221; she asked him, again and again.
+&#8220;They do not cry in heaven, and Barby was crying just now.
+Barby, am I dreaming! Who is this beside me? is it Herbert&#8217;s
+ghost? only his hands are warm, and mine are so terribly cold.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span>
+Why you are crying too, love; but I am to tired to understand.&#8221;
+And then she crept wearily closer and closer into his
+arms, like a tired-out child who has reached home.</p>
+<p>And when Herbert stooped over her gently, he saw that the
+long lashes lay on her cheek. Magdalene had fallen asleep.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXXVI_MOTES_IN_THE_SUNSHINE' id='CHAPTER_XXXVI_MOTES_IN_THE_SUNSHINE'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2>
+<h3>MOTES IN THE SUNSHINE.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>That sleep was, humanly speaking, Magdalene&#8217;s salvation.</p>
+<p>At the greatest crisis of her life, when reason hung in the
+balance,&mdash;when the sudden influx of joy might have paralyzed
+the overwrought heart and brain,&mdash;at that moment physical exhaustion
+saved her by that merciful, overpowering sleep.</p>
+<p>When she woke, it was to the resurrection of her life and
+love. Months afterwards she spoke of that waking to Phillis,
+when she lay in her bed weak as a new born babe, and the early
+morning light streamed full on the face of her slumbering
+husband.</p>
+<p>They were alone; for Miss Mewlstone had just crept softly
+from the room. Her movement had roused Magdalene. Herbert,
+who was utterly worn out by his long watching, had just
+dropped asleep, with his head resting against the wood-work.
+He was still sitting in the arm-chair beside her, and only the
+thin profile was visible.</p>
+<p>The previous night had been passed by Magdalene in a semi-conscious
+state: delirious imaginations had blended with realities.
+There were flashes and intervals of comparative consciousness,
+when the truth rushed into her mind; but she had been
+too weak to retain it long. That she was dreaming or dead was
+her fixed idea: that this was her husband&#8217;s greeting to her in
+paradise seemed to be her one thought. &#8220;Strange that the
+children do not kiss me too,&#8221; they heard her say once.</p>
+<p>But now, as she opened her eyes, there was no blue misty haze
+through which she ever feebly sought to pierce. She was lying
+in her own room, where she had passed so many despairing
+days and nights. The window was open; the sweet crisp
+morning air fanned her temples; the birds were singing in the
+garden below; and there beside her was the face so like, yet
+so unlike, the face from which she had parted four years ago.</p>
+<p>For a little while she lay and watched it in a sort of trance;
+and then in the stillness full realization came to her, and she
+knew that she was not mad or dreaming. This was no imagination:
+it was reality.</p>
+<p>With incredible effort, for she felt strangely weak, she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span>
+raised herself on her elbow to study that dear face more
+closely, for the change in it baffled her. Could this be her
+Herbert? How bronzed and thin he had grown! Those lines
+that furrowed his forehead, those hollows in the temples and
+under the eyes, were new to her. And, oh, the pity of those
+gray hairs in the place of the brown wavy locks she remembered!
+But it was when she laid her lips against the scarred
+wrist that Herbert woke, and met the full look of recognition
+in his wife&#8217;s eyes, for which he had waited so long.</p>
+<p>Now he could fall upon his knees beside her, and crave that
+forgiveness for words and acts that had seared his conscience
+all these years like red-hot iron. But at the first word she
+stopped him, and drew his head to her breast:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Herbert, hush! What! ask forgiveness of me, when I
+have sinned against you doubly,&mdash;trebly,&mdash;when I was no true
+wife, as you know? Oh, do not let us ask it of each other, but
+of God, whom we have so deeply offended! He has punished
+us; but He has been merciful too. He has taken our children
+because we did not deserve them. Oh, Herbert! what will you
+do without them?&mdash;for you loved Janie so!&#8221; And then for a
+little while the childless parents could only hold each other&#8217;s
+hands and weep, for to Herbert Cheyne the grief was new, and
+at the sight of her husband&#8217;s sorrow Magdalene&#8217;s old wounds
+seemed to open and bleed afresh; only now&mdash;now she did not
+weep alone.</p>
+<p>When Miss Mewlstone entered the room, shortly afterwards,
+she found Magdalene lying spent and weary, holding her husband&#8217;s
+hand.</p>
+<p>Joy had indeed returned to the White House, but for a long
+time it was joy that was strangely tempered with sorrow.
+Upstairs no sound greeted Herbert from the empty nurseries;
+there were no little feet pattering to meet the returned wanderer,
+no little voices to cry a joyous &#8220;Father!&#8221; And for years the
+desolate mother had borne this sorrow alone.</p>
+<p>As the days passed on, Magdalene regained her strength
+slowly, but neither wife nor husband could hide from each
+other the fact that their health was broken by all they had
+gone through. Herbert&#8217;s constitution was sadly impaired for
+the remainder of his life: he knew well that he must carry
+with him the consequences of those years of suffering. Often
+he had to endure intense neuralgic agony in his limbs and head;
+an unhealed wound for a long time troubled him sorely. Magdalene
+strove hard to regain strength, that she might devote
+herself to nurse him, but, though her constitution was superb,
+she had much to bear from her disordered nerves. At times
+the old irritability was hard to vanquish; there were still dark
+moods of restlessness when her companionship was trying; but
+it was now that Herbert proved the nobleness and reality of his
+repentance.</p>
+<p>For he was ever gentle with her, however much she might
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span>
+try him. Some talk he had had with her doctor had convinced
+him that she was not to blame for these morbid moods; that the
+nerves had become disorganized by those years of solitary
+misery. &#8220;We must bear all our troubles together,&#8221; as he often
+told her; and so he bore this, as he did the trial of his children&#8217;s
+loss, with grave fortitude, and a patience that surprised
+all who knew him.</p>
+<p>And he was not without his reward, for, the dark fit over,
+Magdalene&#8217;s smile would greet him like sunshine after a storm,
+and she would thank him with tears and caresses for his forbearance.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t think what makes me still so horrid, when I am so
+happy,&#8221; she said once to him, when the first year of their reunion
+had passed. &#8220;I do my best to fight against these
+moods, but they seem stronger than myself and overcome me.
+Do not be so good to me next time, Herbert; scold me and be
+angry with me, as you used in the old days.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I cannot,&#8221; he answered, smiling. &#8220;I never loved you in
+the old days as I do now. I would not change my wife, in
+spite of all the trouble she gives me, for any other woman
+upon earth. You believe this, love, do you not?&#8221; looking at her
+beautiful face anxiously, for it had clouded a little at his last
+words.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, but I do not like to trouble you: it is that that frets
+me. I wanted to be a comfort to you, and never to give you a
+moment&#8217;s uneasiness; but I cannot help myself, somehow. I
+love you, I don&#8217;t believe you know yet how I love you, Herbert;
+but it seems as if I must grieve you sometimes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never mind; I will hear your trouble and my own too,&#8221; he
+answered, cheerily; and in this way he always comforted her.
+But to Magdalene her own self ever remained a mystery; the
+forces of her own nature were too strong for her, and yet she
+was not a weak woman. She had expected that in her case love
+and happiness would have worked a miracle, as though miracles
+were ever effected by mere human agencies,&mdash;that she would
+rise like a Ph&oelig;nix from the ashes of her past, reborn, rejuvenated,
+with an inexhaustible fund of moral strength.</p>
+<p>Now she had Herbert, all would go smoothly; she would no
+longer mourn for her little ones. Since her husband was there
+to comfort her, with his constant presence to sustain her, all
+must be well; never again would she be nervous, irritable, or
+sarcastic. Poor Magdalene! she was creating heaven for herself
+upon earth; she was borrowing angels&#8217; plumes before the
+time; she had forgotten the conditions of humanity, &#8220;the body
+of the flesh,&#8221; which weighed down greater souls than hers.</p>
+<p>There are Gethsemanes of the spirit to the weary ones of
+earth, hours of conflict that must be lived through and endured.
+Nature that groaneth and travaileth cannot find its abiding
+place of rest here. To the end of time it seems to be written in
+enduring characters that no human lot shall be free from suffering:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span>
+sooner or later, more or less,&mdash;that is all! Magdalene
+had still to learn this lesson painfully: that she was slow in
+learning it, proved the strength and obduracy of her will. True,
+she was rarely sarcastic,&mdash;never in her husband&#8217;s presence, for
+a word or a look from him checked her, and she grew humble
+and meek at once. It was her unruly nerves that baffled her;
+she was shocked to find that irritable words still rose to her
+lips; that the spirit of restlessness was not quelled forever; that
+thunder still affrighted her; and that now and then her mind
+seemed clouded with fancied gloom.</p>
+<p>She once spoke of this to Miss Middleton, with tears in her
+eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is so strange,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Herbert is different, but I am
+still so unchanged.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The conditions of your health are unchanged, you mean,&#8221;
+answered Elizabeth, with that quiet sympathy that always
+rested people. &#8220;This is the mistake that folk make: they do
+not distinguish between an unhealthy mind and a diseased soul:
+the one is due to physical disorganization, the other to moral
+causes. In your case, dear Mrs. Cheyne, one may safely lay the
+blame on the first cause.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, do you think so?&#8221; she asked, earnestly. &#8220;I dare not
+cheat my conscience in that way: it is my bad temper, my undisciplined
+nature, that ought to bear the blame.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; believe me,&#8221; answered Elizabeth, for they had grown
+great friends of late, &#8220;I have watched you narrowly, and I
+know how you try to conquer this irritability; there is no black
+spot of anger in your heart, whatever words come to your lips.
+You are like a fretful child sometimes, I grant you that, who
+is ailing and unconscious of its ailment. When you would be
+calm, you are strangely disturbed; you speak sharply, hoping
+to relieve something that oppresses you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes!&#8221; sighed Magdalene; &#8220;and yet Herbert never
+speaks crossly to me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He never will, for he knows what you suffer. Well, dear
+friend, what of this? This is a cross that you must carry
+perhaps all your life. You are not the only one who has to bear
+the torment of disordered nerves: it must be borne with resignation,
+as we bear other troubles. Once you felt you could not
+love God; you ceased to pray to Him; now you love Him a
+little. Go on loving; thank him for your husband&#8217;s patience,
+and pray that you may have patience with yourself. One is
+weary of always living with one&#8217;s self, I know that well,&#8221;
+finished Elizabeth, with a charming smile.</p>
+<p>Mr. Drummond would have verified Miss Middleton&#8217;s opinion
+that Magdalene was not so unchanged as she believed herself
+to be.</p>
+<p>At his first interview with her after Herbert Cheyne&#8217;s return,
+he could almost have sworn that she was a different
+woman.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span></p>
+<p>Phillis, who spent all her spare time at the White House,&mdash;for
+they both made much of Herbert&#8217;s &#8220;good angel,&#8221; as he still
+called her jestingly,&mdash;was sitting alone with Mrs. Cheyne when
+Archie was announced.</p>
+<p>His old enemy greeted him with a frank smile.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is kind of you, Mr. Drummond,&#8221; she said, quite
+warmly. &#8220;How I wish my husband were not out, that I could
+introduce him to you! I have told him how good you have
+tried to be to me, but that I was ungrateful and repulsed
+you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Archie was shaking hands with Phillis, who seemed a little
+disturbed at his entrance. He turned around and regarded the
+beautiful woman with astonishment. Was this really Mrs.
+Cheyne? Where was the hard, proud droop of the lip, the
+glance of mingled coldness and <i>hauteur</i>, the polished sarcasm of
+voice and manner? Her face looked clear and open as a child&#8217;s;
+her eyes were brilliant with happiness.</p>
+<p>Magdalene was in one of her brightest moods when she was
+most truly herself.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have met him just now. He stopped and introduced
+himself. We had quite a long talk outside of Mrs. Williams&#8217;s
+cottage. I called upon him there, you know, but he had good
+reasons for refusing my visits. Mrs. Cheyne, you must allow
+me to congratulate you most earnestly. You will own now that
+Providence has been good to you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will own that and everything,&#8221; returned Magdalene,
+joyously. &#8220;I will own, if you like, that I treated you shamefully,
+and took a pleasure in tormenting you; and you were so
+patient,&mdash;oh, so patient, Mr. Drummond! I could have called
+you back sometimes and apologized, but I would not. In my
+bitter moments I felt it was such a relief to mock at people.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never mind all that. Let bygones be bygones. I wish I
+could have served you better.&#8221; And then, as he changed the
+subject, and spoke feelingly about the miracle of her husband&#8217;s
+restoration, Mrs. Cheyne looked at him rather wistfully.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, how good you are!&#8221; she said, softly. &#8220;Do you know,
+the world seems full of good people to me now; and yet once it
+appeared too bad a place for any one to live in. We create our
+own atmosphere,&mdash;at least so Herbert tells me. But you are
+looking thin, Mr. Drummond,&mdash;thin and pale. You must be
+working too hard.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, as to that, hard work never hurts any one,&#8221; he replied,
+carelessly; but there was something forced in his tone.</p>
+<p>Phillis, who had been sitting apart quite silently, raised her
+eyes involuntarily from her work. Was it her fancy, or had
+some undefinable change passed over him? They had seen him
+so little of late. Since all this had happened at the White House
+he had called once or twice; and once Nan had been there, and
+he had spoken to her much as usual. No one would have
+detected any difference in his manner, except that he was a little
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span>
+grave and preoccupied. Nan had not noticed anything; but
+then she was singularly blind in such matters. Had she not
+vaguely hinted that his visits were on Phillis&#8217;s account?&mdash;that
+mere hint conveying exquisite pain to Phillis.</p>
+<p>Now, as she stole a glance at him, the conviction was strong
+within her that the arrow had gone deep. He certainly looked
+a little thin and care-worn, and something of a young man&#8217;s
+vigor and hopefulness seemed temporarily impaired. But, as
+it happened, that girlish scrutiny was not unperceived by
+Archie. In a moment he was on the alert. His eyes challenged
+hers boldly, and it was Phillis who flushed and looked
+conscious.</p>
+<p>It was as though he said to her, &#8220;Ah! you think you know
+all about it. But you need not trouble yourself to be sorry for
+me; you do not know what a man&#8217;s strength can do. And I am
+determined to bear this by myself, and to myself; for in
+silence there is power.&#8221;</p>
+<p>It certainly seemed as though a new strength had come to
+Archie. He had been a man who was prone to speak much of
+his feelings. Irritable and sensitive, he had demanded much
+sympathy from his womankind. His was a nature that craved
+support in his work; but now, not even to Grace, could he
+speak of this trouble that had befallen him.</p>
+<p>Was it a trouble, after all, this vague shadow that lay about
+his path? No one but he himself knew the sweetness and
+graciousness of the dream that had come to him. It had only
+been a dream, after all; and now he was awake. The vision
+he had conjured up to himself had faded into unreality. She
+was not his second self: never by look or word had he wooed
+her; she was only the woman he could have loved. This was
+how he put it; and now he would bury this faint hope that
+was still-born,&mdash;that had never had breathed into it the breath
+of life. And if for a little while his future should be cloudy
+and bereft of its sunshine, was he the only one to whom &#8220;some
+days must be dark and dreary&#8221;?</p>
+<p>Phillis&#8217;s unspoken sympathy drooped under this stern repression;
+and yet in her heart she reverenced him all the more for
+this moral strength,&mdash;for there is nothing a true woman abhors
+more than weakness in a man. After this silent rebuff, Archie
+took himself well in hand, and began to speak of other things:
+he told Mrs. Cheyne, being certain now of her interest, of his
+sister&#8217;s intended marriage, and how he and Mattie were going
+down to the wedding.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is a very good fellow, this intended brother-in-law of
+mine,&mdash;a sort of rough diamond; but hardly good enough for
+Isabel,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Oh, yes, he is very rich. My poor little
+sister will have her head turned by all her magnificence; for
+his parents are so generous: they quite load her with gifts.&#8221;
+And he smiled to himself at the notion of the little sister, just
+fresh from her narrow school-room life, rejoicing over her trousseau
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span>
+and her handsome house, and driving away from the church
+in her own carriage. No wonder his father and mother were
+pleased. As for the bridegroom-elect, Archie spoke of him with
+half-contemptuous amusement: &#8220;Oh, he was a good fellow,&mdash;no
+one wished to deny that;&#8221; but there was a want of culture
+and polish that grated upon the susceptibilities of the Oxford
+fellow.</p>
+<p>Phillis listened with undivided interest&mdash;especially when he
+mentioned Grace.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mattie and I are in hopes that we shall bring her back with
+us; but, at all events, my mother has promised to spare her at
+Christmas.&#8221; This time he addressed himself to Phillis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that will be nice for you!&#8221; she returned a little eagerly.
+&#8220;You have told us so much about her that I quite long to know
+her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should say you would suit each other perfectly,&#8221; he replied,
+as he rose to take his leave. &#8220;Sometimes you remind me
+of her, Miss Challoner; and yet you are not really alike. Good-bye,
+if I do not see you again before we go to Leeds.&#8221; And
+Phillis gave him her hand, and a cordial smile.</p>
+<p>But when he had gone out of the room, his hostess accompanying
+him&mdash;for she had a word for his private ear,&mdash;Phillis
+sat down, and thought over those last words with a strange
+feeling of pleasure: &#8220;Sometimes you remind me of her, Miss
+Challoner.&#8221; Was it possible that he could trace any resemblance
+between her and this dearly-beloved sister, this Grace,
+whom he seemed to regard as absolute perfection?</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I hope she will come! I am sure we shall be such
+friends,&#8221; she said to herself: and from this time Phillis looked
+anxiously for Grace Drummond&#8217;s arrival.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXXVII_A_MAN_HAS_A_RIGHT_TO_HIS_OWN_THOUGHTS' id='CHAPTER_XXXVII_A_MAN_HAS_A_RIGHT_TO_HIS_OWN_THOUGHTS'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;A MAN HAS A RIGHT TO HIS OWN THOUGHTS.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>There were great rejoicings in the house in Lowder Street on
+the occasion of Isabel Drummond&#8217;s marriage.</p>
+<p>There is always something pathetic in the first wedding in a
+family,&mdash;the first severing of the family circle,&mdash;the first break,
+the first ingathering of new interest. But when there are
+small means, and seven portionless daughters, very few of whom
+can be said to be gifted with good looks, a wealthy son-in-law
+must indeed be regarded as a direct blessing from Providence.</p>
+<p>That Mr. Drummond did so regard it, was evident from the
+jovial good humor that had replaced his usual moody and irritable
+manner; while his wife&#8217;s beaming face, softened by maternal
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span>
+tenderness for the child who would no longer share the daily
+life with them, was a surprising spectacle to those acquainted
+with Mrs. Drummond&#8217;s ordinary reserve and somewhat severe
+bearing. But it is not too much to say that on this occasion
+Mrs. Drummond was a happy woman.</p>
+<p>The tide of fortune, long so adverse to their interests, seemed
+turning in their favor at last. Archie had done great things
+for himself, and the mother&#8217;s eyes rested on him proudly as he
+performed the marriage ceremony for his young sister, the
+gravity of his priestly office setting him apart, as it were, for
+her reverence as well as love. That Isabel had done great
+things for herself also could not be denied. But there were
+other causes for content in the mother&#8217;s heart.</p>
+<p>Both the boys were doing well. Clyde had been articled to a
+lawyer, an old friend of Mr. Drummond&#8217;s, and had won golden
+opinions from his chief, who pronounced him an intelligent,
+likely lad, and as sharp as a needle. Fred had lately obtained
+a clerkship in an old-established house in Leeds, and was also
+doing well, and his salary was a great boon to the straitened
+household. Grace, too, was doing her duty vigorously, and no
+longer vexed her mother&#8217;s soul by her drooping looks of uncomplaining
+discontent,&mdash;that silent protest of many, that is so
+irritating to the home-rule. True, it might be only the quiescence
+of despair, but at least she veiled it decently under a
+show of Spartan cheerfulness. The fox of bitterness might
+gnaw, but she drew the mantle of her pride closer round her.
+She might suffer and pine, like a caged lark in her narrow
+cage, but at least no one, not even Archie, and least of all her
+mother, should guess the extent of her sufferings. So there
+was peace in Lowder Street. A truce had silently proclaimed
+itself between the two strong wills of the household; and,
+touched by a submission that somehow appealed to her generosity,
+Mrs. Drummond was secretly revolving schemes for her
+daughter&#8217;s future happiness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mothers are mothers,&#8221; as Nan had once sweetly said, and
+Mrs. Drummond was no exception to the rule. She could be
+hard to her own flesh and blood; she could exact obedience
+that was difficult to yield, and sacrifices that cost tears in
+plenty; but she was a just woman, and, when the right time
+came, she knew how to reward such obedience.</p>
+<p>But there was still another drop that filled the maternal cup
+of content almost to overflowing, and of this she spoke to Grace,
+as they were together in the mother&#8217;s room, folding up the
+bridal finery. The little bride had just driven off, all tears and
+smiles. Archie and the boys had started off for a long walk.
+Mattie was with her sisters in the small ugly enclosure they
+called a garden; and Grace and her mother had gone up to
+shake out the satin dress and lay it between tissue-paper.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hope she will be happy, poor little dear!&#8221; observed
+Grace, touching tenderly the Brussels-lace veil; for Isabel had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span>
+been her first pupil and charge. &#8220;I do think and believe Ellis
+is really very fond of her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Without doubt he is. His manners were all your father
+and I could wish. What a magnificent present, and how
+thoughtful, his bringing those diamond ear-drops just the last
+moment! Isabel has such pretty little ears. He is as proud
+of her as he can be. And really she looked quite lovely. Take
+care how you fold that veil, Grace. It is a perfect beauty.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, mother,&#8221; returned Grace, meekly.</p>
+<p>She was ready to drop with fatigue, for she had been up
+since six, and had dressed all her sisters one after another in
+their pretty bridesmaids&#8217; dresses, Mattie&#8217;s skill as a lady&#8217;s-maid
+being distrusted even by Dottie. But Mrs. Drummond was not
+satisfied, and took the lace out of her hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And, Grace, did you ever see any one so improved as Mattie?
+Her visit to Hadleigh is doing wonders for her. Last
+evening I could hardly help looking at her. She holds herself
+so much better, and her dresses are so pretty and well made.
+I never knew before that her figure was so nice.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed; she is wonderfully improved,&#8221; returned
+Grace.</p>
+<p>But she said the words mechanically. Her mother&#8217;s speech
+had touched a sore place in her memory. She knew who had
+transformed Mattie&#8217;s dowdiness into comeliness and neatness.
+She might be an ordinary little woman in the world&#8217;s opinion,
+but in the eyes of her family she was quite another Mattie.
+Those tasteful dresses had been made by those Challoners of
+whom Mattie spoke so much and Archie so little.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Drummond, who had not noticed her daughter&#8217;s sudden
+abstraction, went on in the same satisfied tone:</p>
+<p>&#8220;She is not pretty, of course,&mdash;no one could ever call Mattie
+that at the best of times,&mdash;but now she has left off making a
+fright of herself, and hunching her shoulders with every word,
+she is quite passable-looking. I am glad you talked her out of
+being a bridesmaid. She would have looked absurd among the
+girls. But that green surah just suited her. It was good of
+Archie to buy her such a pretty dress; and yours that came
+from Hadleigh was even prettier, and wonderfully well made,
+considering they had only a pattern gown.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; it fitted admirably;&#8221; but Grace spoke without enthusiasm.</p>
+<p>Archie, who knew her tastes, had chosen a soft, creamy stuff
+which he informed Mattie must be trimmed with no end of lace.
+Phillis had received and executed the order with such skill and
+discernment that a most ravishing costume had been produced.
+But Grace, who had her own ideas on the subject of those
+&#8220;Challoner girls,&#8221; had received the gift somewhat coldly, and
+had even seemed displeased when her father pinched her ear
+and told her that Archie&#8217;s gown had transformed her into a princess
+fit for a fairy-tale. &#8220;And there is always a prince in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span>
+that, my dear,&mdash;eh, Gracie?&#8221; continued the lucky father, who
+could afford to laugh when one of the seven daughters had got
+a husband. But Grace would have nothing to do with the jest.
+She even got up a little frown, like her mother&#8217;s on similar
+occasions.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Archie is so generous, dear old fellow!&#8221; continued Mrs.
+Drummond, breaking out afresh after a minute&#8217;s interval, as
+she skilfully manipulated the veil. &#8220;That is what I always
+say. There never was such a son or brother. Do you think he
+is overworking, Grace, or that Mattie really looks after him
+well? But he strikes me as a little thin,&mdash;and&mdash;yes&mdash;perhaps
+a little grave.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Grace&#8217;s lips closed with an expression of pain. But her
+mother was looking at her and she must answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, if you ask me, mother,&#8221; she returned, a little huskily,
+&#8220;I do not think Archie looks very well, or in his usual
+spirits; but I am sure Mattie takes good care of him,&#8221; she continued,
+with careful veracity.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Humph! I am sorry to find you endorsing my opinion,&#8221; replied
+Mrs. Drummond, thoughtfully. &#8220;I hoped you would say it
+was my fancy. He has not said anything to you that makes you
+uneasy?&#8221; with a touch of her old sharpness, remembering that
+Grace, and not she, was Archie&#8217;s confidante; but Grace replied
+so quickly and decidedly, &#8220;Oh, no, mother; we have not
+exchanged a word together since he and Mattie arrived,&#8221; that
+her maternal jealousy was allayed.</p>
+<p>But the next night, when she was alone with him for a few
+minutes, she was struck afresh by the gravity of his look as he
+sat by the window, pretending to read, but for the last half-hour
+he had not turned his page.</p>
+<p>&#8220;A penny for your thoughts, my son!&#8221; she said, so archly
+and abruptly that Archie started, and his brow grew crimson at
+finding himself watched.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, they were nothing particular,&#8221; he stammered; and
+then he said something about the fineness of the evening, and
+the possibility of his father coming in in time for a long walk.</p>
+<p>But Mrs. Drummond was not to be put off so easily. She left
+her seat, where she had been sewing as usual, and came and
+stood beside him a moment. He would have jumped up and
+given her his own chair, but she pressed his shoulder gently,
+as though to forbid the movement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I like to stand, Archie. Yes, it is a lovely evening; but I
+think you ought to ask Grace, and not your father, to accompany
+you. Grace was always your companion, you know, and
+you must not drop old habits too suddenly.&#8221; Then Archie saw
+that his avoidance of Grace had been marked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well, I will ask her,&#8221; he returned; but he showed none
+of his old alacrity and spirit in claiming his favorite.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Drummond noticed this; and the shade of anxiety on her
+face grew deeper.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Archie, you are not quite your old self with Grace; and I
+am sure she feels it. What has come between you, my dear?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, nothing, mother;&#8221; and here he attempted a laugh.
+&#8220;Grace and I never quarrel, as you know.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was not speaking of quarrelling,&#8221; she returned, in a graver
+voice; &#8220;but you do not seek her out as you used. Before, when
+you arrived, you always disappointed me by shutting yourself
+up in the school-room, where no one could get at you; and now
+Grace tells me she has not had a word with you these four days.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Has Grace complained of me, then?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know Grace never complains of you. It was not said
+in any fault-finding way. We agreed you were not quite yourself,
+or in your usual spirits; and I asked her the reason.
+Tell me, my son, is there anything troubling you?&#8221; Archie
+sat silent. Mrs. Drummond was so rarely demonstrative to her
+children that even this well-beloved son had never heard before
+such chords of tenderness in his mother&#8217;s voice; and,
+looking up, he saw that her keen gray eyes were softened and
+moist with tears. &#8220;You are not quite yourself, Archie,&mdash;not
+quite happy?&#8221; she went on.</p>
+<p>Then he took counsel with himself; and after a moment he
+answered her:</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, mother; you are right. I am not&mdash;not quite myself
+nor quite happy; but I mean to be both presently.&#8221; And then
+he looked up in her face pleadingly, with an expression of
+entreaty that went to her heart, and continued: &#8220;But my own
+mother will not pain me by unnecessary questions that I could
+not answer.&#8221; And then she knew that his will was that she
+should be silent.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well,&#8221; she returned, with a sigh. &#8220;But you will tell
+me one thing, will you not, my dear! Is it&mdash;is it quite hopeless?&#8221;
+her mother&#8217;s instinct, like that of the Eastern Caliph,
+immediately suggesting a woman in the case.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Quite&mdash;quite hopeless!&mdash;as dead as this!&#8221; bringing down
+his hand on a large defunct moth. &#8220;Talking will not bring to
+life, or help a man, to carry a real burden.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then, as she kissed him, she knew that his pain had been
+very great, but that he meant to bear it with all the strength
+he could bring.</p>
+<p>Grace went up to prepare for her walk that evening with no
+very pleasurable anticipations. Her mother had given her
+Archie&#8217;s message in due form, as she sat somewhat sadly by the
+school-room window, mending a frock Dottie had just torn.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Archie wants you to go out with him, Grace,&#8221; Mrs. Drummond
+said, as she came in, in her usual active bustling way.
+&#8220;The grass never grew under her feet,&#8221; as she was often pleased
+to observe. &#8220;Loitering and lagging make young bones grow
+prematurely old,&#8221; she would say, coining a new proverb for
+the benefit of lazy Susie. &#8220;Never measure your footsteps when
+you are about other people&#8217;s business,&#8221; she would say to Laura,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span>
+who hated to be hunted up from her employment for any
+errand. &#8220;He thinks of going over to Blackthorn Farm, as it is
+so fine; and the walk will do you good,&#8221; continued Mrs. Drummond,
+with a keen look at her daughter&#8217;s pale face. &#8220;Give me
+Dottie&#8217;s frock: that little monkey is always getting into mischief.&#8221;
+But Grace yielded her task reluctantly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you sure he wishes me to go, mother?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Quite sure,&#8221; was the brief answer; but she added no more.</p>
+<p>Silence was ever golden to this busy, hard-working mother.
+She was generally sparing of words. Grace, who saw that her
+mother was bent on her going, made no further demur; but,
+as she put on her walking-things, she told herself that Archie
+was only making a virtue of necessity. He was so little eager
+for her society that he had not sought her himself, but had
+sent her a message. Ever since his return, no light-springing
+footsteps had been heard on the uncarpeted stairs leading to the
+school-room. He had forsaken their old haunt, where they had
+once talked so happily, sitting hand in hand on the old window-seat.</p>
+<p>Grace felt herself grievously wounded. For months a barrier
+had been between her and Archie. He had written seldom;
+and his letters, when they came, told her nothing. In manner
+he was kindness itself. That there was no change in his affection
+was evident; but the key to his confidence was mislaid.
+He had withdrawn himself into some inner citadel, where he
+seemed all at once inaccessible, and her sisterly soul was vexed
+within her.</p>
+<p>He met her at the door with his usual smile of welcome.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That is right, Grace; you have not kept me long waiting,&#8221;
+he said, pleasantly, as she came towards him; and then, as
+they walked down Lowder Street, he commenced talking at once.
+He had so much to tell her, he said; and here Grace&#8217;s pulses began
+to throb expectantly; but the eager light died out of her face
+when he went on to detail a long conversation he had had with
+his mother the previous night. Was that all? she thought.
+Was the longed-for confidence still to be withheld?</p>
+<p>Archie did not seem to notice her silence: he rattled on
+volubly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think we were hard on the mother, Gracie, you and I,&#8221;
+he said. &#8220;After all, I believe she was right in not giving us our
+own way in the spring.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am glad you think so,&#8221; replied Grace, coldly. Archie
+winced at her tone, but recovered himself, and went on
+gayly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;It does one good sometimes to have one&#8217;s wishes crossed;
+and, after all, it was only fair that poor Mattie, being the eldest,
+should have her turn. She does her best, poor little soul! and,
+though I find her terribly trying sometimes, I can hold out
+pretty patiently until Christmas; and then mother herself
+suggested that you should take her place at the vicarage.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I! oh, no, Archie!&#8221; And here the color flushed over
+Gracie&#8217;s face, and her eyes filled with tears. The news was so
+unexpected,&mdash;so overwhelming. Another time the sweetness of
+it would have filled her with rapture. But now! &#8220;Oh, no,
+no!&#8221; she cried, in so vehement a tone that her brother turned
+in surprise, and something of her meaning came home to him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wait a moment,&#8221; he said, deprecatingly. &#8220;I have not
+finished yet what I want to say. Mother said Mattie was greatly
+improved by her visit, and that she was infinitely obliged to me
+for yielding to her wish. She told me plainly that it was
+impossible to have spared you before,&mdash;that you were her right
+hand with the girls, and that even now your loss would be
+great.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not mean to leave mother,&#8221; returned Grace, in a choked
+voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not if I want you and ask you to come?&#8221; he replied, with
+reproachful tenderness, &#8220;Why, Grace, what has become of
+our old compact?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You do not need me now,&#8221; she faltered, hardly able to speak
+without weeping.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We will talk of that by and by,&#8221; was the somewhat impatient
+answer. &#8220;Just at this minute I want to tell you all the mother
+said on the subject. Facts before feelings, please,&#8221; with a
+touch of sarcasm; but he pointed it with a smile. &#8220;You see,
+Grace, Isabel&#8217;s marriage makes a difference. There is one girl
+off my father&#8217;s hands. And then the boys are doing so well.
+Mother thinks that in another three months Clara may leave
+the school-room; she will be seventeen then, and, as Ellis has
+promised her a course of music-lessons, to develop her one
+talent, you may consider her off your hands.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Clara will never do me credit,&#8221; returned his sister, mournfully:
+&#8220;she works steadily and takes pains, but she was never
+as clever as Isabel.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; she is no shining light, as mother owns; but she will
+play beautifully, if she be properly trained. Well, as to the
+other girls, it appears that my father has decided to accept my
+offer of sending Susie to a first-class boarding-school; and, as
+he has determined to do the same for Laura, there is only Dottie
+for Mattie to manage or mismanage. So you see, Gracie, your
+school-room drudgery is over. Mother herself, by her own will,
+has opened the prison-doors.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He spoke in a light jesting tone, but Grace answered, almost
+passionately,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I tell you no, Archie! I no longer wish it so; it is too late:
+things are now quite different.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean?&#8221; he returned, with a long steady look
+that seemed to draw out her words in spite of her resolve not
+to speak them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I mean that things are changed&mdash;that you no longer need
+me, or wish me to live with you.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I need you more,&#8221; he returned, calmly; &#8220;perhaps I have
+never needed you so much. As for living with me, is it your
+desire to condemn me to an existence of perfect loneliness?&mdash;for
+after Christmas Mattie leaves me. You are mysterious, Grace;
+you are not your old self.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, it is you that are not yourself!&#8221; she retorted, in a tone
+of grief. &#8220;Why have you avoided me? why do you withhold
+your confidence? why do your letters tell me nothing? and
+then you come and are still silent.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is it that you would have me tell you?&#8221; he asked; but
+this time he did not look her in the face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I would know this thing that has come between us and
+robbed me of your confidence. You are ill at ease; you are
+unhappy, Archie! You have never kept a trouble from me before: it
+was always I who shared your hopes and fears.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You may still share them. I am not changed, as you
+imagine Grace. All that I can tell you I will, even if you
+demand it in that &#8216;money-or-your-life&#8217; style, as you are doing
+now,&#8221; trying to turn it off with a jest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Archie!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, what of Archie, now?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That you should laugh away my words! you have never
+done that before.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well, I will be serious; nay, more, I will be solemn.
+Grace, I forbid you ever to mention this thing again, on pain of
+my bitter displeasure!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then, as she looked at him, too much startled to answer, he
+went on:</p>
+<p>&#8220;A man has a right to his own thoughts, if he choose to keep
+them to himself and his Maker. There are some things with
+which even you may not meddle, Grace. What if my life holds
+a grief which I would bury from all eyes but my own? would
+you tear up the clods with unhallowed fingers? To no living
+person but my Saviour&#8221;&mdash;and here Archie looked up with reverent
+eyes&mdash;&#8220;will I speak of this thing.&#8221; Then she clung to
+his arm, and tears flowed over her cheeks.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Archie! forgive me! forgive me! I never meant to
+hurt you like this; I will not say another word!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have not hurt me,&#8221; he returned, striving after his old
+manner, &#8220;except in refusing to live with me. I am lonely
+enough, God knows! and a sister who understands me, and
+with whom I could have sympathy, would be a great boon.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I will come,&#8221; she replied; drying her eyes. &#8220;If you
+want me, I will come, Archie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do want you; and I have never told you anything but the
+truth. But you must come and be happy, my dear. I want
+you, yourself, and not a grave, reticent creature who has gone
+about the house the last few days, looking at me askance, as
+though I had committed some deadly sin.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then the dimple showed itself in Grace&#8217;s cheek.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Have I really been so naughty, Archie?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, you have been a very shadowy sort of Grace; but I
+give you full absolution, only don&#8217;t go and do it any more.&#8221;
+And, as she looked at him with her eyes full of sorrowful yearning,
+he went on, hastily: &#8220;Oh, I am all right, and least said is
+soonest mended. I am like the dog in &AElig;sop&#8217;s fable, who mistook
+the shadow for the substance. A poor sort of dog, that fellow.
+Well, is your poor little mind at rest, Grace?&#8221; And the tone
+in which she said &#8220;Yes&#8221; seemed to satisfy him, for he turned
+their talk into another channel.</p>
+<p>When Mrs. Drummond saw her daughter&#8217;s face that evening,
+she knew the cloud had passed between the brother and
+sister.</p>
+<p>Grace followed her to her room that night,&mdash;a thing she had
+not done for months.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother, I must thank you for being so good to us,&#8221; she
+began, impulsively, as soon as she had crossed the threshold.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How have I been good to you, Grace?&#8221; observed her mother,
+calmly, as she unfastened her brooch. &#8220;Of course, I have
+always tried to be good to my children, although they do not
+seem to think so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, but this is very special goodness: and I am more grateful
+than I can say. Are you sure you will be able to spare me,
+mother?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;After Christmas?&mdash;oh, yes: things will be possible then.
+If I remember rightly, I had to endure some very bitter words
+from you on this very subject. I hope you will do justice to my
+judgment at that time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, mother,&#8221; with downcast eyes. &#8220;I am afraid Archie
+and I were very wilful.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You were wilful, Grace,&#8221;&mdash;for Mrs. Drummond never suffered
+any one to find fault with her son in her hearing,&mdash;&#8220;you
+who ought to have known better. And yet I do believe that,
+but for my determination to enforce the right thing, you would
+have left your post, and all your duties, because Archie wanted
+you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was wrong. I see that plainly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, you were wrong: for a long time you bore yourself
+towards me as no daughter ought to bear herself to her mother.
+You angered me sorely, Grace, because I saw you were hardening
+yourself against me, only because I insisted that no child of
+mine should neglect her duty.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother, surely I am humbling myself now?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;True; but how long have I waited for this confession?
+Night after night I have said to myself, &#8216;Surely Grace will come
+and tell me that she feels herself in the wrong!&#8217; But no such
+words came. At last I ceased to hope for them; and now at
+this eleventh hour you can hardly expect me to show much joy
+at hearing them spoken.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then Grace&#8217;s head drooped, and she was silent. She knew
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span>
+she deserved all these hard words, bitter as they were to bear;
+but Mrs. Drummond had said her say.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, well, better late than never; and we will say no
+more about it. Next time you will understand me better,
+Grace.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then, as her mother kissed her, Grace knew that her sin
+was condoned. Nevertheless, as she left the room a few minutes
+later, her heart was not quite so light in her bosom; she
+felt that her mother had been just, but hardly generous.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I thought mothers forgave more easily,&#8221; she said to herself,
+in somewhat aggrieved fashion. She had no idea that her
+mother was equally disappointed.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Drummond was a hard, but not an unloving woman; and
+she would have liked more demonstration from her daughters.
+If Grace, for example, instead of all these words, had thrown
+herself into her arms and owned herself in the wrong, with a
+child-like pleading for forgiveness, Mrs. Drummond would have
+felt herself satisfied, and would have pressed her to her bosom
+with a loving word or two that Grace would have remembered
+when her mother was in her grave. But such outward forms
+of tenderness were not possible to Mrs. Drummond&#8217;s daughters:
+for in such matters we must reap as we sow; and Mrs. Drummond&#8217;s
+manner hardly merited softness. For there are mothers
+and mothers; and the world must produce its Drummonds and
+its Challoners until the end of time.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXXVIII_ABOUT_NOTHING_PARTICULAR' id='CHAPTER_XXXVIII_ABOUT_NOTHING_PARTICULAR'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h2>
+<h3>ABOUT NOTHING PARTICULAR.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>It was as well that Grace had had this talk with her brother;
+for, during the two days that remained of his brief visit, they
+were not alone together until the last half-hour before his departure.
+The young vicar had to return for his Sunday duties;
+but Mattie remained behind for another week. Archie, indeed,
+had once sought her in his old fashion,&mdash;running up to the
+school-room for a chat; but Susie had been there all the time.
+In former days, Archie would have sent her away with blunt
+peremptoriness; but now he seemed well content to have her
+there. He had no secrets to discuss, as he sat in his old place
+in the window-seat; yet Grace was too happy to see him there
+to find fault with his discourse.</p>
+<p>But on the morning of his departure she had come down
+early to pour out his coffee. He had bidden his mother good-bye
+in her room; but he knew that, in spite of the earliness of
+the hour, Grace would be in her place to minister to his wants.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, Grace,&#8221; he said, entering with his travelling-plaid
+over his arm, &#8220;so it is to be good-bye until Christmas.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; she returned, looking at him with a sort of wistfulness;
+&#8220;but the time will pass quickly now. It is so nice to
+think that we shall begin our new year together.&#8221; And, as her
+brother checked an involuntary sigh, she went on eagerly:
+&#8220;If you knew how happy I am about it! It will be something
+to wake every morning and know you are not a hundred miles
+off,&mdash;that when I come down to breakfast I shall find you there,&mdash;that
+I shall be able to talk to you as much as I like; and as
+for work, why, it will be play to me to work for you, Archie!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course I know that,&#8221; rather mischievously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I would work for you like a servant: would I not, dear?
+I mean to be ever so good to you. Your friends shall be my
+friends; your likes and dislikes shall be mine too.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, Gracie,&#8221; he said, humoring her, &#8220;this is more than
+a wife would do for me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah! but it is not too much to ask from a sister,&#8221; she returned,
+earnestly. &#8220;When you bring home your wife, Archie,
+I mean to be good to her too. I shall have to leave you then, and
+come back here; but if you are happy I shall not be miserable.&#8221;
+But he interrupted her a little impatiently.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What put such nonsense into your head? I shall never
+marry. We shall be a pattern of old-bachelor brother and
+maiden sister.&#8221; And then he pushed away his plate, and went
+to the window. &#8220;Is it not Mrs. Carlyle who quotes that
+quaint old story about some one who always thanked God &#8216;for
+the blessings that passed over his or her head&#8217;? Is not that a
+curious idea, when one comes to think it out? Fancy thanking
+heaven really and seriously for all our disappointed hopes and
+plans,&mdash;for &#8216;the blessings that go over our heads&#8217;! It would
+be a new clause in our petitions,&mdash;eh, Gracie?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, yes,&#8221; she replied, as she came and stood near him.
+&#8220;I am afraid I could never say that from my heart.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is not easy,&#8221; he returned, quietly; &#8220;but I do not know
+that we ought to give up trying, for all that.&#8221; And then his
+manner changed, and he put his arm round her in his old fashion.
+&#8220;Recollect, I want you very much, Grace: your coming will
+make me far happier. Mattie only touches the outside of
+things; I want some one near me who can go deeper than that,&mdash;who
+will help me with real work, and put up with my bad
+humors; for I am a man who is very liable to discouragement.&#8221;
+And when he had said this, he bade her good-bye.</p>
+<p>It was a comfort to Archie to find himself hard at work again.
+These few days of idleness had been irksome to him. Now he
+could throw himself without stint or limit into his pastoral
+labors, walking miles of country road until he was weary, and
+planning new outlets for the feverish activity that seemed to
+stimulate him to fresh efforts.</p>
+<p>People began to talk of the young vicar. His sermons were
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span>
+changed somehow. There was more in them,&mdash;&#8220;less of the
+husk, and more of the kernel,&#8221; as Miss Middleton once remarked
+rather pithily.</p>
+<p>They were wonderfully brief discourses; but, whereas they
+had once been elegant and somewhat scholarly productions,
+they were now earnest and even pungent. If the sentences
+were less carefully compiled, more rough-hewn, and deficient in
+polish, there was matter in them that roused people and made
+them think.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never could remember Mr. Drummond&#8217;s sermons before,&#8221;
+Dulce once observed, &#8220;but now I can recollect whole sentences
+quite nicely.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis, to whom she spoke, assented by a nod. If she had
+chosen, she could have admitted the fact that she could remember
+not sentences, but the entire sermon itself. In secret
+she marvelled also at the change.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is more earnest,&#8221; she would say to herself. &#8220;He
+preaches now, not from the outside, but from the inside of
+things,&mdash;from his own experience, not from other people&#8217;s.
+That makes the difference.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And to Nan, who was her other conscience, she said one day,
+when they were discussing this subject,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have been thinking a great deal about sermons lately. I
+wish I could publish the result of my cogitation. I feel inclined
+to write a pamphlet and entitle it &#8216;Hints to the Clergy.&#8217;
+I think it would take vastly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>It was Sunday afternoon, and they were sitting together on
+their favorite boulder. Phillis had christened it her &#8220;thinking-stone.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never think to more purpose than when I am sitting here,&#8221;
+she would say.</p>
+<p>Nan, who was looking out to sea rather dreamily, intent on
+her usual vision, Dick, roused herself at this, and began to
+smile in a lofty way.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You think yourself very clever, Phillis, and so do I; but
+sermons are hardly in your province, my dear.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis shook her head gravely. She dissented from this view
+of the case.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Common sense is in every one&#8217;s province,&#8221; she persisted.
+&#8220;I am a practical woman, and some of my hints would be
+valuable. Sermons are failures, Nan. They go over people&#8217;s
+heads like a flight of badly-shot arrows. Does not Goulburn
+say that? Now and then one touches the mark. When they
+are all let fly hither and thither and anyhow, the preacher
+shuts up his book, and his hearers cease to yawn.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Phillis, how absurd you are! Suppose Mr. Drummond
+were to hear you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should have no objection. But, Nan, seriously, do you
+not notice how formal and cut-and-dried most sermons are?
+They come round regularly, like Sunday. People have to bear
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span>
+being preached at, and so the unfortunate parson must hammer
+it out of his head somehow. He picks out his text, writes out
+his composition, drags in his learning by the ear, and delivers
+it in his best fashion; and people listen to it politely, and the
+best behaved do not yawn.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Phillis, you are positively irreverent! I am shocked at
+you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;On the contrary, I am very reverent. Well, in my &#8216;Hints
+to the Clergy&#8217; I would say, first, &#8216;Never preach what you do
+not feel yourself, or the current of electricity or sympathy, or
+whatever it is that communicates between preacher and people,
+will be checked or impeded. Do not preach out of the book:
+we can read that for ourselves. Preach out of your own head
+and your own experience, just as much as you can.&#8217; Bless
+you,&#8221; continued Phillis, in a wise, half-sad tone, &#8220;half the pulpits
+would be empty: we should get sometimes no sermons at
+all!&#8221;</p>
+<p>This was too much for Nan&#8217;s simplicity.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But people would be so disappointed,&#8221; she observed, plaintively.
+&#8220;All the middle-aged people like sermons.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It would not hurt them to be disappointed sometimes.
+They would appreciate the real thing all the more when it came.
+It is as well to go without food altogether as to be fed on husks.
+After all, people forget that they come to church to say their
+prayers all together, and sing glorias.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That is very nicely said, dear,&#8221; was Nan&#8217;s admiring comment
+on this.</p>
+<p>But Phillis waved aside the praise. She was quite in earnest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But if I were speaking to one of these real and not make-believe
+preachers, I would say to him, &#8216;Never be discouraged.
+Say what you have got to say: if you really feel it and mean it,
+some one will feel it too. You can&#8217;t see into people&#8217;s hearts:
+and a good thing, too, my friend. But &#8220;the arrow at
+the venture&#8221; may tell; some one may be &#8220;hit between the
+joints of the armor.&#8221;&#8217; There, come along; you shall have
+more of my hints another time. I have said my say for the
+present.&#8221; And Phillis rose from the boulder, with her eyes
+bright and kindled by some moving thought, and went down to
+the edge of the water, and watched a sea-gull dipping towards
+the shore in the midst of the windy lights; while Nan, marvelling
+at her sister&#8217;s unusual earnestness, followed more slowly.</p>
+<p>The Challoners were holding up their heads in the place now.
+There was no denying that. By the people at the vicarage and
+the White House they were owned and regarded as equals.
+Mrs. Cheyne made no secret of her affection for Phillis; and
+she was full of kindness also to Nan and Dulce. It was their
+own fault if they declined her frequent invitations. But there
+was one person who refused to hold out the hand of amity to
+the eccentric new-comers.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span></p>
+<p>Colonel Middleton still shook his white head, and delivered
+his protest into his daughter&#8217;s ear. Elizabeth, declared, laughingly,
+&#8220;that the Challoner girls were to her father what a red
+rag is to a bull.&#8221; He never met one of them without coming
+home and relieving his mind, as he called it. &#8220;My father is
+dying to know them,&#8221; she would say to Mr. Drummond. &#8220;He
+has fallen in love with them all,&mdash;mother and daughters too;
+but he is denying himself an introduction for a certain reason.&#8221;
+But, though Archie looked curious and questioned her very
+closely, she chose to be provoking and say no more. It was
+Colonel Middleton who at last enlightened the young man.</p>
+<p>They were walking from the town together. The colonel
+was carrying his stick musket-wise over his shoulder, and had
+the vicar by the arm, when Phillis and Dulce came out of the
+gateway of the White House. As the girls passed Archie, they
+smiled at him and nodded, and Phillis, in a pretty way she had,
+waved her hand; and then they went on rapidly towards the
+Friary. As they did so, Colonel Middleton groaned, and touched
+his companion&#8217;s arm impressively.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, now, Drummond, did you ever see girls with a better
+carriage?&mdash;heads up&mdash;light springy step? Why, it is a pleasure
+even to an old fellow like myself to watch them. Fancy that
+taller one on horseback in the Row! Why, she would cut out
+half the girls. And think that one dare not notice them!&#8221;
+And he struck his stick into the ground almost angrily.</p>
+<p>Archie smiled: he could not help it. The colonel was so
+whimsical in his wrath.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They had plenty of notice from the folk at the White House,&#8221;
+he returned, quietly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, Cheyne was always a bit of a Radical, and madam is
+no better. They can do as they like, without being afraid of
+consequences. But that is not my case.&#8221; And, as Archie
+looked at him rather mystified, he went on: &#8220;Bless me, you
+do not suppose I am afraid of knowing them for my own sake?
+Elizabeth tells me that she is intimate with them. But that is
+not my business, so long as she does not have them at Brooklyn.
+&#8216;We must draw the line there, Elizabeth,&#8217; I said. &#8216;If you
+choose to visit your dressmakers, it is not for me to prevent
+you; you are old enough to select your own friends, so you may
+be as eccentric as you like. But your brother is coming home.
+Young men are young men; and I do not choose to expose
+Hammond to such temptation.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Hammond! That is your son, I suppose?&#8221; asked
+Archie, who was much amused at the colonel&#8217;s earnestness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; my boy Hammond! the finest fellow in the regiment,
+though I say it, who should not. Do you think that I, his
+father, would expose him to such danger as to throw him into
+the society of a set of fascinating young women who have chosen
+to emancipate themselves from all conventionality, and who
+call themselves&mdash;stuff and rubbish!&mdash;dressmakers?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Not call themselves, so: they are excellent dressmakers!&#8221;
+was Archie&#8217;s somewhat malicious reply.</p>
+<p>&#8220;All the more reason that my son should not know them!&#8221;
+thundered the old man. &#8220;What, sir! an officer in one of her
+Majesty&#8217;s regiments&mdash;the son and grandson of officers,&mdash;is such
+a one to be mixed up with a family that has lost caste,&mdash;to flirt
+with or make love to girls who are not above making gowns for
+my butcher&#8217;s wife? Before Hammond does such a thing as
+that&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; And here the colonel paused from excess of emotion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are perfectly right to defend your son from such danger,&#8221;
+returned the young clergyman with covert sarcasm.
+&#8220;In your case I should probably feel the same. But, in my
+position, being intimate with those ladies of whom you speak,
+and having had good opportunity to form my opinions of them,
+I cannot help saying, in their defence, that even your son,
+excellent officer as he is,&mdash;and, I am sure, a most worthy young
+man,&mdash;would scarcely be dishonored by an alliance with the
+finest young gentlewomen I ever met!&#8221; And, as he said this,
+with all due gravity, Archie released his arm, and, with a farewell
+nod, went off, leaving the colonel, open-mouthed and gasping
+with astonishment, at his own gate.</p>
+<p>Elizabeth met him on the threshold.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, father, why did you not bring Mr. Drummond in!&#8221; she
+said, reproachfully; &#8220;it is so long since he has paid us a visit.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor Drummond!&#8221; replied the colonel, with a mournful
+shake of his head: &#8220;it is just as I thought. He has almost
+owned it, in fact. He is seriously smitten with one of those
+Challoner girls, and before long there will be a wedding in the
+place.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, father, this is just one of your whimsies,&#8221; replied
+Elizabeth, placidly. &#8220;Mr. Drummond is going to have his
+favorite sister, Grace, to live with him and keep his house. He
+told me so himself; and that does not look as though he expected
+to bring home a wife. So you may just put this idea out of
+your head.&#8221; But, though Elizabeth was well aware of the truth
+of her words, that no new mistress was to come to the vicarage,
+still her fine sympathy and unerring woman&#8217;s divination had
+read the meaning of the young vicar&#8217;s clouded brow, and she
+knew that he, too, had to try and be grateful for &#8220;the blessings
+that went over his head.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Archie&#8217;s grand and somewhat heroic speech failed in its effect,
+as far as the colonel was concerned. Elizabeth was right in
+saying her father was longing to know the Challoners. The
+old man&#8217;s fancy had been mightily taken by the girls; but for
+Hammond, for his boy&#8217;s sake, he was capable of any amount
+of self-denial. Once he was sorely tempted to give in. When
+turning the corner of the Braidwood Road, not far from his own
+house, he came suddenly upon his daughter, who was standing
+on the side-path, talking to Dulce.</p>
+<p>Dulce, who always seemed a sort of reflection and shadow of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span>
+her sisters, and who withdrew somewhat in the background,
+obscured a little by Nan&#8217;s beauty and Phillis&#8217;s sprightliness, was
+nevertheless in her way a most bewitching little maiden.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There comes my father!&#8221; observed Elizabeth, tranquilly,
+never doubting that he would join them; and Dulce looked up
+a little shy and fluttered from under her broad-brimmed hat;
+for she had taken a fancy to the colonel, with his white moustache
+and kindly inquisitive eyes. He was a sort of hero in her
+fancy; and Dulce loved heroes,&mdash;especially when they wore a
+medal.</p>
+<p>Colonel Middleton saw the little girl dimpling and blushing
+with pleasure, and his old heart thumped a little with excitement
+and the conflict of feeling: the innocent child-look appealed to
+his fatherly sympathies. There was a moment&#8217;s wavering;
+then he lifted his white hat, with a muttered &#8220;Good-morning,&#8221;
+and the next minute he was walking on with squared shoulders
+and tremendous energy.</p>
+<p>Poor little Dulce&#8217;s lip quivered with disappointment: she
+thought it hard, when other people were so kind to them.
+Elizabeth said nothing; but she bade the child good-bye with
+greater tenderness than usual, and sent all sort of messages to
+her mother and Nan.</p>
+<p>The colonel, meanwhile, had retreated into the house, and was
+opening his papers with more than his usual fuss.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is for Hammond,&#8221; he murmured to himself. &#8220;When
+one has boys, one must do one&#8217;s duty by them; but it was confoundedly
+hard, by Jove!&#8221; And all the remainder of the day
+a pair of appealing eyes seemed to reproach him with unkindness.
+But Elizabeth never said a word; it was not her place
+to find fault with her father.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XXXIX_HOW_DO_YOU_DO_AUNT_CATHERINE' id='CHAPTER_XXXIX_HOW_DO_YOU_DO_AUNT_CATHERINE'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;HOW DO YOU DO, AUNT CATHERINE?&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>One drizzling November morning, Mattie was standing at the
+hall door, looking out a little blankly through the open gateway
+at the prospect before her,&mdash;at the rotting leaves that lay
+heaped up in the road, and at the gray, humid sky,&mdash;when a
+very big man suddenly blocked up the entrance, and startled
+her dreadfully.</p>
+<p>Mattie afterwards described the occurrence very graphically
+to her brother:</p>
+<p>&#8220;He was the biggest man I ever saw in my life, Archie. He
+looked as strong as a navvy; and his shoulders reminded me of
+one of those men one sees in brewers&#8217; drays. And his face
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span>
+was so red, and his hair, too,&mdash;that dreadfully red color, you
+know, that no one admires; and his hands, and even his voice,
+were big.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What a fascinating description!&#8221; laughed Archie. &#8220;Upon
+my word, Mattie, you are rather tremendous in your language.
+Well, and what did the navvy say to you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, he was not a navvy, really! Of course he was a
+gentleman. He could not help his big voice, and what he said
+was nice; but, I assure you, Archie, he nearly took my breath
+away;&#8221; and so on, and so on, to the end of her story.</p>
+<p>But it was enough to surprise any one whose nerves were not
+of the strongest, when one lives in a lonely country road, and
+the master of the house is out, to see a gigantic specimen of
+manhood, not very carefully dressed, and with hair like a red
+glory, come suddenly striding through one&#8217;s open gate,
+without &#8220;by your leave,&#8221; or waiting for any possible permission.</p>
+<p>Mattie dropped her umbrella,&mdash;for she was dressed in her
+waterproof, and her oldest hat, ready for her district-work;
+and the stranger picked it up, and handed it to her promptly,
+and then he removed his hat politely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How do you do, cousin?&#8221; he said; and a broad, genial
+smile revealed a set of white teeth.</p>
+<p>Mattie retreated a step in genuine affright.</p>
+<p>&#8220;For you know, Archie,&#8221; she explained afterwards, in her
+simple way, &#8220;we have no cousins worth mentioning, except
+Sophy Trinder, who is not our cousin at all, but mother&#8217;s; and
+so you see it sounded so very odd.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very odd indeed,&#8221; muttered Archie.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you please, Mr. Drummond&mdash;that is my brother&mdash;is out,
+and I am going out too,&#8221; faltered Mattie, who was not a
+specially heroic little person, and who decidedly had not got her
+wits about her just then.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not want Mr. Drummond, whoever he may be. I
+never heard of him in my life. I only want my aunt and
+cousins. Which of them are you, eh? Why, you must be Nan,
+I suppose?&#8221; And the big man looked down at her with a sort
+of supercilious good nature. The name gave Mattie instant
+enlightenment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nan!&mdash;Oh, you must mean the Challoners!&#8221; she exclaimed,
+with a little gasp of surprise.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, of course; I am a Challoner myself. Well, which of
+them are you, eh? You are a long time telling me your name.&#8221;
+And the new-comer peered down at her still more curiously, as
+though he were surprised to find anything so small and ordinary-looking.</p>
+<p>Mattie never looked to advantage in her waterproof. More
+than once her brother had threatened to burn the old rag of a
+thing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My name is Mattie Drummond,&#8221; replied the bewildered
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span>
+Mattie, trying to speak with dignity,&mdash;she never would call
+herself Matilda, she hated it so,&mdash;&#8220;and I live with my brother,
+who is the clergyman of the parish. This is the vicarage: if
+you want the Friary, it is a little lower down the road.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where?&#8221; he asked, striding to the gate; and then he came
+back again, taking the few steps at a single bound,&mdash;so at least
+it appeared to Mattie. &#8220;Why&mdash;why&mdash;there is no house at all&mdash;only
+a miserable cottage, and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That is the Friary,&#8221; repeated Mattie, decidedly; &#8220;but it is
+not miserable at all: it is very nice and pretty. The Challoners
+are very poor, you know; but their house looks beautiful for
+all that.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; I know all about it. I have been down to that
+place, Oldfield, where they lived; and what I heard has brought
+me here like an express train. I say, Miss Mattie Drummond,
+if you will excuse ceremony in a fellow who has never seen his
+father&#8217;s country before, and who has roughed it in the colonies,
+may I come in a moment and ask you a few questions about my
+cousins?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, by all means,&#8221; returned Mattie, who was very good-natured
+and was now more at her ease. &#8220;You will be very
+welcome, Mr. Challoner.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sir Henry Challoner, at your service,&#8221; responded that singular
+individual with a twinkle of his eye, as Mattie became
+confused all at once. &#8220;You see,&#8221; he continued, confidentially,
+as she led the way rather awkwardly to her brother&#8217;s study,
+hoping fervently that Archie would come in, &#8220;I have been
+making up my mind to come to England for years, but somehow
+I have never been able to get away; but after my father&#8217;s
+death&mdash;he was out in Australia with me&mdash;I was so lonely and
+cut up that I thought I would take a run over to the mother-country
+and hunt up my relations. He was not much of a father
+perhaps; but, as one cannot have a choice in such matters, I
+was obliged to put up with him;&#8221; which was perhaps the
+kindest speech Sir Francis&#8217;s son could make under the circumstances.</p>
+<p>Mattie listened intelligently, but she was so slightly acquainted
+with the Challoners&#8217; past history that she did not
+know they possessed any relations. But she had no need to
+ask any questions: the new-comer seemed determined to give a
+full account of himself.</p>
+<p>&#8220;So do you see, Miss Drummond, having made my fortune
+by a stroke of good luck, and not knowing quite how to spend
+it&mdash;the father and mother both gone,&mdash;and having no wife or
+chick of my own, and being uncommon lonely under the circumstances,
+I thought I would just run over and have a look at
+my belongings. I have a sort of fancy for Aunt Catherine;
+she used to write me such pretty letters when I was a little
+chap in Calcutta, and tell me about Nan, and Phillis, and&mdash;what
+was the baby&#8217;s name?&mdash;Dulce. I believe she and the poor
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span>
+old governor never hit it off: the old man had been a sad sinner
+in his day. But I never forgot those letters: and when he
+was gone, poor old boy! I said to myself, Now I will go and
+see Aunt Catherine.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you went down to Oldfield, Sir Henry?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Eh, what? meaning me, I suppose? but out there they
+called me Sir Harry, or Harry mostly, for what was the use of
+a title there? Oh, yes, I went down and found out all about
+them from a chatty little woman, rather like yourself, and she
+sent me on here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear, I am so glad!&#8221; exclaimed Mattie, who was now
+thoroughly herself: &#8220;they will be so pleased to see you, and
+you will think them all so charming. I am sure I never saw
+any one the least like them, except Grace, and she is not half so
+pretty as Nan; and as for Phillis, I admire her even more, she
+lights up so when she talks.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aunt Catherine used to be beautiful,&#8221; observed Sir Harry,
+gravely; for then and afterwards he insisted on that form of
+address. He was not English enough or sufficiently stiff for
+Henry, he would say.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear, yes! she is quite lovely now,&mdash;at least Archie and
+I think so; and Dulce is the dearest little thing. I am ever so
+fond of them; if they were my own sisters I could not love
+them more,&#8221; continued Mattie, with a little gush; but, indeed
+the girls&#8217; gentle high-bred ways had won her heart from
+the first.</p>
+<p>Sir Harry&#8217;s eyes positively sparkled with delight; he had
+pleasant eyes which redeemed his other features, for it must be
+confessed he was decidedly plain.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I must shake hands with you, Miss Drummond,&#8221; he said,
+stretching out a huge hand, with a diamond ring on it that
+greatly impressed Mattie. &#8220;We shall be good friends, I see
+that.&#8221; And though poor Mattie winced with pain under that
+cordial grasp, she hid it manfully.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did they tell you at Oldfield how poor they are?&#8221; she said,
+when this ceremony had been performed, and Sir Harry&#8217;s face
+looked more like a sunset than ever with that benevolent glow
+on it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes,&#8221; he returned, indifferently; &#8220;but all that is over
+now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know they have to work for their living; the girls are
+dressmakers,&#8221; bringing out the news rather cautiously, for fear
+he should be shocked; a baronet must be sensitive on such
+points. But Sir Harry only laughed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, they are plucky girls,&#8221; he said, admiringly; &#8220;I like
+them for that.&#8221; And then he asked, a little anxiously, if his
+aunt sewed gowns too,&mdash;that was how he put it,&mdash;and seemed
+mightily relieved to hear that she did very little but read to
+the girls.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I would not like to hear she was slaving herself at her age,&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span>
+he remarked, seriously. &#8220;Work will not hurt the girls: it
+keeps them out of mischief. But now I have come, we must
+put a stop to all this.&#8221; And then he got up and threw back his
+shoulders, as though he were adjusting them to some burden;
+and Mattie, as she looked up at him, thought again of the
+brewer&#8217;s dray.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was afraid when he got off his chair he would touch the
+ceiling,&#8221; she said, afterwards. &#8220;He quite stooped of his own
+accord going through the study doorway.&#8221;</p>
+<p>When Sir Henry had shaken himself into order, and pulled
+an end of his rough red moustache, he said, quite suddenly,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;As you are a friend of the family, Miss Drummond, I think
+it would be as well if you would go with me to the Friary and
+introduce me in due form; for, though you would not believe
+it in a man of my size, I am painfully shy, and the notion of all
+these girls, unless I take them singly, is rather overwhelming.&#8221;
+And, though this request took Mattie a little by surprise, she
+saw no reason for refusing to do him this kindness. So she assented
+willingly, for in her heart Mattie was fond of a scene.
+It gave her such a hold on Archie&#8217;s attention afterwards; and,
+to do him justice, when the Challoners were on the <i>tapis</i>, he
+made a splendid listener.</p>
+<p>Sir Henry walked very fast, as though he were in a tremendous
+hurry; but he was nervous, poor fellow, and, though he
+did not like to own as much to a woman, he would almost have
+liked to run away, in spite of his coming all those thousands of
+miles to see his relations. He had pressed Mattie into the service
+to cover his confusion, but the little woman herself hardly
+saw how she was needed, for, instead of waiting for her introduction,
+or sending in his name or card by Dorothy, he just put
+them both aside and stepped into the first room that stood
+handy, guided by the sound of voices.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How do you do, Aunt Catherine?&#8221; he said, walking
+straight up to the terrified lady, who had never seen anything
+so big in her life. &#8220;I am Harry,&mdash;Harry Challoner, you know,&mdash;to
+whom you used to write when I was a little slip of a boy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>A strange queen in a hive of bees could not have produced
+more confusion. Dulce stopped her sewing-machine so suddenly
+that her thread broke; Phillis, who was reading aloud,
+let her book fall with quite a crash; and Nan said, &#8220;Oh, dear!&#8221;
+and grew quite pale with surprise and disappointment: for a
+moment she thought it was Dick. As for Mrs. Challoner, who
+had a right to her nerves from years of injudicious spoiling
+and indulgence, and would not have been without her feelings
+for worlds, she just clasped her hands and murmured &#8220;Good
+heavens!&#8221; in the orthodox lady-like way.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, yes, Aunt Catherine, I am Harry; and I hope you
+have not forgotten the existence of the poor little beggar to
+whom you were so kind in the old Calcutta days.&#8221; And his big
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span>
+voice softened involuntarily in the presence of this dignified
+aunt.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, my dear!&mdash;no!&#8221; touched by his manner, and remembering
+the boyish scrawls that used to come to her, signed
+&#8220;Your affectionate nephew, Harry.&#8221; &#8220;And are you indeed
+my nephew?&mdash;are you Harry?&#8221; And then she held out her
+slim hand, which he took awkwardly enough. &#8220;Girls, you
+must welcome your cousin. This is Nan, Harry, the one they
+always say is like me; and this is Phillis, our clever one; and
+this is my pet Dulce.&#8221; And with each one did their cousin
+solemnly shake hands, but without a smile; indeed, his aspect
+became almost ludicrous, until he caught sight of his homely
+little acquaintance, Mattie, who stood an amused spectator of
+this family tableau, and his red, embarrassed face brightened
+a little.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aunt Catherine was such an awfully grand creature, you
+know,&#8221; as he observed to her afterwards, in a confidential
+aside: &#8220;her manners make a fellow feel nowhere. And as for
+my cousins, a prettier lot of girls I never saw anywhere; and
+of course, they are as jolly and up to larks as other girls; but
+just at first, you know, I had a bull-in-a-china-shop sort of feeling
+among them all.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner, in spite of her fine manners, was far too
+nervous herself to notice her nephew&#8217;s discomfort. She had to
+mention a name that was obnoxious to her, for of course she
+must ask after his father. She got him into a chair by her at
+length, where he stared into his hat to avoid the bright eyes
+that seemed to quiz him so unmercifully.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And how is Sir Francis?&#8221; she asked, uttering the name
+with languid interest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My father! Oh, did you not know, Aunt Catherine?&mdash;he
+died out in Sydney a year ago. Poor old fellow! he
+had a terrible illness. There was no pulling him through
+it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner roused up at this:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your father dead! Then, Harry, you have come to the
+title?&#8221;</p>
+<p>But her nephew burst into a boisterous laugh at this:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&mdash;a title and an old ruin. A precious heritage, is it
+not? Not that I care what people call me. The most important
+part is that another fellow&mdash;Dalton they call him&mdash;and
+I made a grand hit out in Sydney. When I saw the money
+flowing in, I just sent for the poor old governor to join me;
+and we did not have a bad time of it, until the gout took him
+off. And then I got sick of it all, and thought I would have a
+look at England and hunt up my relations.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Sir Harry had blurted out this long speech as he still attentively
+regarded the lining of his hat; but, happening to look up,
+he caught Phillis&#8217;s eyes, which were contemplating him. The
+mischievous look of fun in them was not to be resisted. Sir
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span>
+Harry first got redder, if possible; then his own eyes began to
+twinkle, and finally they both laughed. And after that the ice
+was broken, and they got on famously.</p>
+<p>The girls chattered to him like magpies. They made Mattie
+take off her hat and hideous old waterproof and stay to luncheon.
+Nan smoothed her hair, which was sadly ruffled, and Phillis
+settled her brooch and collar.</p>
+<p>There was only cold mutton in the larder; but what did that
+matter? Dulce ran out in the garden and picked dahlias for
+the table; and Nan took her mother&#8217;s keys and drew from the
+recesses of a dim sweet-smelling press some dainty napkins
+and a fine old cloth that might have suited a princess. There
+was a bottle of rare Madeira that remained from their stock
+of wine; and Dorothy had made a batch of fresh dinner-rolls.
+Dorothy was always full of resources in an emergency.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t fash yourself, Miss Nan,&#8221; she said, when her young
+mistress came into the kitchen. &#8220;The cold mutton can&#8217;t be
+helped; but we have got angels in the larder, and I will just
+pop them into the oven.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Sir Harry roared with laughter when Dorothy&#8217;s speech was
+repeated to him. The little puddings were declared by Mattie
+to be delicious; but Sir Harry could scarcely eat his for laughing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who ever heard of baked angels, Aunt Catherine!&#8221; he exclaimed,
+after another explosion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear, it is only a name,&#8221; she returned, mildly. &#8220;Will
+you have another, Harry? And, Nan, you must pass your
+cousin the Madeira.&#8221;</p>
+<p>They were all seated round the table in the small parlor. It
+was felt to be a triumph when Sir Harry contrived to seat himself
+without grazing himself seriously against the chiffonnier or
+knocking over a piece of the blue-and-gold china.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What a cosey little cabin of a place!&#8221; he said with critical
+approval; &#8220;but it is rather small to hold you all,&mdash;eh, Aunt
+Catherine?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes: it is small after Glen Cottage,&#8221; she sighed. &#8220;We
+had such a pretty drawing-room there.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And such a lovely garden!&#8221; added Dulce.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, this crib in not fit for you? We will alter all that,&#8221; he
+returned, complacently. &#8220;I am the head of the family now,
+and I must take my uncle&#8217;s place. I am awfully rich, Aunt
+Catherine; so you have only got to tell me what you and the
+girls want, you know.&#8221; And then he rubbed his hands as
+though he were pleased about something.</p>
+<p>But no one took any notice of this speech, hardly knowing
+how to treat it.</p>
+<p>When luncheon&mdash;which was, indeed, the family dinner&mdash;was
+over, the girls carried him off to the work-room, and
+showed him specimens of their skill.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very nice; very well done,&#8221; he observed, approvingly.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I am glad you showed such pluck; for why any woman should
+think it <i>infra dig.</i> to make a gown for another woman quite
+beats me. Why, bless you, in the colonies we fellows turned
+our hands to anything! Well, Aunt Catherine, they are plucky
+ones, these girls of yours. But we must put a stop to this sort
+of thing, you and I. I don&#8217;t think my uncle would have liked it.
+And as I am in his place&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; And here he thrust aside some
+amber satin with his great hands, with a movement full of suggestive
+possibilities.</p>
+<p>He took them all out to walk after that. Mrs. Challoner,
+indeed, begged to be excused,&mdash;the poor lady was already sadly
+fatigued, and longed for her nap,&mdash;but he would not dispense
+with Mattie&#8217;s company.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We were acquaintances first,&#8221; he said to her; &#8220;and I look
+upon you as a sort of cousin too, Miss Mattie.&#8221; And poor little
+Mattie, who had never met with so much friendliness before,
+quite blushed and bridled with pleasure.</p>
+<p>Mr. Drummond, who was coming out of his own gate, stood
+as though transfixed as the procession came towards him. The
+four girls were walking all abreast, Mattie in the middle; and
+beside them stalked a huge man, in rough, rather outlandish
+attire, looking like a son of the Anakin, or a red-headed
+Goliath.</p>
+<p>Archie stood still in the middle of the road, and Mattie rushed
+up to him:</p>
+<p>&#8220;We are going for a walk. Oh, Archie, I wish you would
+come too! It would be such fun!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; do come!&#8221; cried unconscious Nan, seconding her out
+of pure good nature. &#8220;Mr. Drummond, this is our cousin, Sir
+Henry Challoner, who has just come from Australia; and we
+have never seen him before.&#8221; And then the young clergyman
+shook hands with him very stiffly, and spoke a few conventional
+words.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They have not a man belonging to them,&#8221; he had said to himself,
+triumphantly, and then that odious Dick had turned up
+and now this extraordinary-looking being who called himself Sir
+Henry Challoner.</p>
+<p>Archie took down the &#8220;Peerage&#8221; when he got home, for he
+could not be induced to join the merry party in their walk.
+He found the name there all right,&mdash;&#8220;Henry Fortescue Challoner,
+son of Sir Francis Challoner, son of Sir Henry Challoner,&#8221;
+and so on. It was an old baronetcy,&mdash;one of the oldest in England,&mdash;but
+the estates had dwindled down to a half-ruined residence
+and a few fields. &#8220;Challoner Place,&#8221; as it was called,
+was nothing but a heap of mouldering walls; but Mattie had
+whispered to him gleefully that he was &#8220;awfully rich, and the
+head of the family, and unmarried; and he did not mean to let
+his cousins make gowns anymore for other people, though they
+might do it for themselves.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mattie never forgot that walk. Never in her life had she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span>
+enjoyed such fun. Archie, with his grave face and prim ways,
+would have spoiled the hilarity.</p>
+<p>First Sir Henry took his cousins to the hotel, where they heard
+him order his apartments and dinner: he evidently considered
+he had not dined; and there was a good deal of discussion about
+some game that he ordered, and a certain brand of champagne
+that was to his liking.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If they make me comfortable, I may stop on a goodish bit,&#8221;
+he informed them, &#8220;until we have settled where my aunt would
+like to live. I shall run up to London every few days, and can
+do all your commissions. By the bye, I got some trinkets for
+you girls on my way down; we will haul them over when I
+come up for the cup of coffee Aunt Catherine promised me this
+evening.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, Harry, we don&#8217;t want presents,&#8221; remarked Phillis,
+taking him to task as easily as though she had known him all
+her life long.</p>
+<p>In spite of his bigness, his great burly figure and plain face,
+there was something very pleasant about him. He was rough
+and unpolished, his dress was careless and of colonial cut; and
+yet one could not fail to see he was a gentleman. His boyishness
+and fun would have delighted Dick, who was of the same calibre;
+only Dick was far cleverer, and had more in his little finger
+than this great lumbering Harry in his whole body.</p>
+<p>He was slow and clumsy, but his heart and intentions were
+excellent; he was full of tenderness for women, and showed a
+touching sort of chivalry in his intercourse with them. In some
+way, his manners were far finer than those of a New Bond
+Street gentleman; for he could not sneer at a woman, he believed
+in the goodness of the sex, in spite of much knowledge to
+the contrary, he could not tell a lie, and he only cheated himself.
+This was saying a good deal for the son of that very black
+sheep Sir Francis; but, as Sir Harry once simply observed,
+&#8220;his mother was a good woman:&#8221; if this were the case, her
+husband&#8217;s vices must have shortened her life, for she died young.</p>
+<p>Phillis was glad when they turned their backs on the town:
+she found her cousin&#8217;s long purse a difficulty: it seemed an
+impossibility to get him past the shops.</p>
+<p>First, he was sure Aunt Catherine was fond of champagne,&mdash;all
+ladies liked sweet sparkling things; but he would see about
+that at the hotel presently. Then his attention was attracted
+by some grouse hanging up at the poulterer&#8217;s: Aunt Catherine
+must have some grouse, as he remembered the cold mutton.
+Phillis made no objection to the grouse, for she knew her
+mother&#8217;s fondness for game; but she waxed indignant when
+partridges and a hare were added, and still more when Sir Harry
+ransacked the fruiterers for a supply of the rarest fruit the
+town could afford. After this, he turned his attention to cakes
+and bonbons; but here Dulce took his part, for she loved bonbons.
+Phillis caught Nan by the arm, and compelled her to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span>
+leave them; but Mattie deserted her friends, and remained to
+watch the fun.</p>
+<p>Dulce grew frightened at last, and tried to coax her cousin
+away.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no more&mdash;no more?&#8221; she pleaded. &#8220;Phillis and Nan
+will be so angry with us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t see anything more worth getting,&#8221; returned her
+cousin, contemptuously. &#8220;What a place this is, to be sure!
+Never mind, Dulce; I am going up to London to-morrow, and
+I will bring you down as many bonbons as you like from the
+French place in Regent Street. I will bring Miss Mattie some
+too,&#8221; he continued, as the girls hurried him along. &#8220;And,
+Dulce, just write out a list of what you girls want; and I will
+get them, as sure as my name is Harry.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XL_ALCIDES' id='CHAPTER_XL_ALCIDES'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XL.</h2>
+<h3>ALCIDES.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>There was quite a battle-royal on the sea-shore after that:
+Dulce and Phillis pelted Laddie with bonbons; while their
+mother enjoyed her nap in the snug parlor. And Dorothy,
+pleased, bewildered, and half frightened at what the mistress
+might say, stowed away game and fruit and confectionery in
+the tiny larder, and then turned her attention to such a tea as
+her young ladies had not seen since the Glen Cottage days.</p>
+<p>Laddie raced and barked, and nearly made himself ill with
+the sweet things; and Nan laughed, and then grew serious as
+she remembered an afternoon in the Longmead Meadows, when
+Dick, in wild spirits, had pelted her and Phillis with roses until
+their laps were full of the delicious, fragrant leaves. &#8220;&#8216;Sweets
+to the sweet,&#8217;&mdash;so look out for yourself, Nan!&#8221; he had said, in
+his half-rough, boyish way. But that was in the days when
+both were very young and Dick had not learned to make love.</p>
+<p>Mattie joined in the game a little awkwardly,&mdash;it was so long
+since the poor little woman had played at anything. Her
+younger sisters never chose Mattie in their games. &#8220;She makes
+such mistakes, and puts us out; and that spoils the fun,&#8221; they
+said; and so Grace was their favorite playfellow.</p>
+<p>For it is perfectly true that some grown-up people have forgotten
+how to play, while others are such children at heart that
+they can abandon themselves most joyously and gracefully to
+any game, however romping; but Mattie, who was sobered by
+frequent snubbing, was not one of these. She loved fun still,
+in her way, but not as Phillis and Dulce, who thought it the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span>
+cream of life and would not be content with the sort of skimmed-milk
+existence of other young ladies.</p>
+<p>Sir Harry watched them admiringly, and his enthusiasm grew
+every moment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I say, you are the right sort, and no mistake. I never met
+jollier girls in my life. A fellow would not know which to
+choose: would he, Miss Mattie?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mattie took this seriously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nan is chosen:&mdash;are you not, Nan?&#8221; she said, in her downright
+fashion. And then, as Sir Harry stared at this, and Nan
+blushed and looked even prettier, Phillis first scolded Mattie
+soundly for her bluntness, and then took upon herself to describe
+Dick&#8217;s perfections:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The dearest fellow in the world, Harry, when you come to
+know him; but not handsome, and dreadfully young looking,
+some people think. But, as Nan will not look at any one else,
+we must make the best of him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And when are they to be married?&#8221; asked her cousin, curiously.
+He was not quite pleased with this discovery.</p>
+<p>&#8220;When?&mdash;Oh, Harry, there is an &#8216;if&#8217; in the case,&#8221; returned
+Phillis, solemnly. &#8220;The dearest fellow in the world has an ogre
+of a father,&mdash;a man so benighted, so narrow in his prejudices,
+that he thinks it decidedly <i>infra dig.</i> for his intended daughter
+in-law to sew other people&#8217;s gowns. I do love that expression.
+Harry: it is so forcible. So he forbids the banns.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, really!&mdash;Is she serious, Nan?&#8221; But Nan grew shy all
+at once, and would not answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am serious, Sir Henry Challoner,&#8221; replied Phillis, pompously.
+&#8220;The path of true love is impeded. Poor Dick is
+pining in his rooms at Oxford; and Nan&mdash;well, I am afraid her
+looks belie her; only you know appearances are sometimes deceitful.&#8221;
+And indeed Nan&#8217;s pink cheeks and air of placid contentment
+scarcely bore out her sister&#8217;s words.</p>
+<p>The newly found cousin sat in silent perplexity staring at them
+both. Love-affairs were not much in his way; and until now
+he had never been thrown much with his equals in the other
+sex. His rough colonial life, full of excitement and money-getting,
+had engrossed his youth. He was now a man of thirty;
+but in disposition, in simplicity, and in a certain guilelessness
+of speech, he seemed hardly more than an overgrown boy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, now, is it not like a book?&#8221; he said, at last, breaking
+the silence quite abruptly. &#8220;It must be an awful bother
+for you, Nan; but we must put a stop to all that. I am the
+head of the family; and I shall have a word to say to that Mr.&mdash;what
+is his name?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Mayne,&#8221; returned Nan, softly.</p>
+<p>It was at this moment that the name of Hercules came into
+Phillis&#8217;s head for her cousin. What feats of strength did he
+mean to undertake on their behalf? Would he strangle the
+hydra-headed monster of public opinion that pronounced
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span>
+&#8220;women who sewed other women&#8217;s gowns&#8221; were not to be received
+into society? Would he help Nan gather the golden
+apples of satisfied love and ambition? What was it that he
+meant to do by dint of sheer force and good nature?</p>
+<p>Harry Challoner did not long leave them in ignorance of his
+intentions. In the coolest possible way he at once assumed the
+headship of the family,&mdash;adopting them at once, and giving
+them the benefit of his opinions on every point that could possibly
+be mooted.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I had not a soul belonging to me until now,&#8221; he said, looking
+around on his cousins&#8217; bright faces with a glow of honest satisfaction
+on his own. &#8220;It made a fellow feel precious lonely
+out there, I can tell you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You ought to have married, Harry,&#8221; suggested Dulce.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never thought any one would care for such a great hulking
+fellow,&#8221; he returned, simply; &#8220;and then the girls over there
+were not to my taste. Besides, I never thought of it; I was too
+busy. I am going to take a holiday now, and look about me a
+little; and when you and Aunt Catherine are settled, I may
+have a try myself at some one,&#8221; he finished, with a big laugh.</p>
+<p>This notion amused the girls immensely, then and afterwards.
+They began to talk of the future Lady Challoner. Nan
+proposed one of the Paines. Phillis thought if Grace Drummond
+were only as sweet-looking as her photograph he could
+hardly help falling in love with her. And Dulce was of opinion
+that Adelaide Sartoris, handsome and queenly as she was, would
+not consider a baronet beneath her. They confided all these
+thoughts to Sir Harry, who thanked them quite gravely for
+their interest and promised to consider the matter. He even
+wrote down the names in his pocket-book one after another.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Adelaide Sartoris, did you say? Ah, we had an Adelaide
+at Sydney, a little, dark thing, with hair blown all over her
+temples, and such a pair of mischievous eyes: that girl was
+always laughing at me, somehow. And yet she seemed sorry
+to bid me good-bye.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps she was in love with you?&#8221; observed Dulce. But
+Phillis frowned at this. She thought they had gone too far in
+their jokes already with a cousin who was such a complete
+stranger. But he returned, quite gravely,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, now, you know, such a thing never came into my
+head. I talked to her because a fellow likes to be amused by a
+lively girl like Miss Addie. But as to thinking seriously of her&mdash;well,
+I could not stand that, you know to be laughed at all
+one&#8217;s life; eh, Miss Mattie?&#8221; And Mattie, at this appeal,
+looked up with round, innocent eyes, and said, &#8220;Certainly
+not,&#8221; in such an impressive tone that the other girls burst out
+laughing.</p>
+<p>They all went home after that. Sir Harry escorted his cousins
+and Mattie to the Friary, and then returned to his hotel to dinner.
+But the girls, who were in a merry mood, would not part
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span>
+with Mattie. They sent her home to put on her green silk
+dress, with strict orders that she was to return as soon as possible.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We are all going to make ourselves pretty,&#8221; announced
+Phillis. &#8220;A cousin does not turn up every day; and when he
+promises to be a good fellow, like Harry, we cannot do him too
+much honor.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, I should like to come,&#8221; returned Mattie. &#8220;I have had
+such a nice day; and, if Archie will not mind&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; And then
+she bustled into the vicarage, and into her brother&#8217;s study.</p>
+<p>Archie roused himself a little wearily from his abstraction to
+listen to his sister&#8217;s story; but at the end of it he said good-naturedly,
+for he had taught himself to be tolerant of Mattie&#8217;s
+little gaucheries,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And the long and short of it is that you want to be gadding
+again. Well, run and get ready, or you will keep their tea
+waiting; and do put on your collar straight, Mattie.&#8221; But
+this slight thrust was lost on Mattie as she delightedly withdrew.
+Archie sighed as he tried to compose himself to his reading.
+He had not been asked to join Mattie. For the last few
+weeks he had become a stranger to the cottage. Did they
+notice his absence? he wondered. Did they miss the visits that
+had once been so frequent? By and by he would resume his
+old habits of intimacy, and go among them as he had done;
+but just now the effort was too painful. He dreaded the unspoken
+sympathy in Phillis&#8217;s eyes. He dreaded anything like
+an understanding between them. Nan&#8217;s perfect unconsciousness
+was helpful to him; but there was something in Phillis&#8217;s
+manner that stirred up an old pain. For the present he was
+safer and happier alone in his study, though Mattie did not
+think so, and told her friends that Archie looked terribly
+dull.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner proposed sending for him; but Phillis,
+greatly to her mother&#8217;s surprise, negatived the proposition:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, mother; pray do not! Mattie, you must excuse
+me. I do not mean to be rude, but we should all have to be so
+dreadfully well-behaved if Mr. Drummond came, and I just feel
+myself in a &#8216;nonsense mood,&#8217; as Dulce used to say when she
+was a baby.&#8221; And then they all forgot Archie, and fell to
+discussing the new cousin.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is dreadfully ugly, mammie, is he not?&#8221; observed
+Dulce, who had a horror of red hair. But Mrs. Challoner
+demurred:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, no, pet; I cannot agree with you. He is very plain,
+but so is Dick; but it struck me they were both rather alike.&#8221;
+An indignant &#8220;How can you, mother!&#8221; from Nan. &#8220;Well,
+my dear,&#8221; she continued, placidly, &#8220;I do not mean really
+alike, for they have not a feature in common; but they have
+both got the same honest, open look, only Dick&#8217;s face is more
+intelligent.&#8221; But this hardly appeased Nan, who was heard to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span>
+say under her breath &#8220;that she thought Dick had the nicest
+face in the world.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And Sir Harry has a nice face too: has he not, Mrs. Challoner?&#8221;
+exclaimed Mattie, who never could be silent in a discussion.
+&#8220;It takes time to get used to such very red hair; and,
+of course, he is dreadfully big,&mdash;almost too big, I should say.
+But when he talks he has such a good-natured way with him;
+now, hasn&#8217;t he?&#8221; appealing to Nan, who looked just a little
+glum,&mdash;that is, glum for Nan, for she could not do the sulks
+properly; she could only look dignified.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner grew a little alarmed at her daughter&#8217;s demure
+face: &#8220;Nan, darling, you know I am as fond of Dick as
+possible; but I cannot help being pleased with my new nephew,
+can I? And I must say I think Harry is very nice, in spite of
+his roughness.&#8221; But here Phillis, who had been unaccountably
+silent, suddenly struck in:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother, it was a mistake mentioning Dick: the name is
+sacred. Nan, if it will please you we will declare that he is
+beautiful as a young Apollo.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be a goose, Phil!&#8221; from her sister. But Nan was
+smiling.</p>
+<p>&#8220;As for Harry, he is a perfect hero. I expect great things
+from the great man. To my imagination he is a perfect Hercules,&mdash;Heracles,
+son of Zeus and Alcmene. I wonder if
+Harry could tell us the name of Hercules&#8217;s mother?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course not, and no one else either,&#8221; retorted Dulce.</p>
+<p>But Phillis did not heed this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;To me he shall be the young Alcides. He has promised to
+fight the Nem&aelig;an lion, in the shape of Richard Mayne the elder.
+By and by we shall have him striking off the heads of the
+Lernean Hydra. You look mystified, Nan. And I perceive
+Mattie has a perplexed countenance. I am afraid you are deficient
+in heathen mythology; but I will spare your ignorance.
+You will see, though, I am right&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, Phillis&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; broke in Dulce, eagerly. But Phillis
+waved her hand majestically at the interruption:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother, to be serious, I consider Harry in the light of a providential
+interposition. You are always mourning that there is
+not a man belonging to us. Well, now we have got one, large
+as life, and larger, and a very good fellow, as you say; and we
+are no longer &#8216;forlorn females.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And indeed, Phillis, I am most thankful for that, my dear;
+for if Harry be only as good as a brother to you&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He means to be more,&#8221; returned Phillis, with a sage nod of
+her head. &#8220;He talks in the coolest way, as though he had
+adopted the whole family and meant to put a spoke into the
+domestic wheel. &#8216;I must put a stop to this,&#8217; or, &#8216;That must be
+altered,&#8217; has been a frequent remark of his. Mother, if he is
+dreadfully rich, as he says, does he mean to make us rich
+too?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear, we have no claim on him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He thinks we have the strongest possible claim: does he
+not, Nan? You should have heard him talk this afternoon!
+According to him, we were never to sew gowns again; Nan
+and Dick were to be immediately united; the Friary was to be
+pulled down, and a glorified Glen Cottage to be erected in its
+stead. But mother,&#8221;&mdash;here Phillis&#8217;s lip grew plaintive,&mdash;&#8220;you
+won&#8217;t desert your own girls, and be talked over even by an
+Alcides? We do not mean to have our little deeds all put on
+the shelf in that off-hand fashion. I shall sew gowns as long
+as I like, in spite of a hundred Sir Harrys.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And then they perceived that under Phillis&#8217;s fun there was
+a vein of serious humor, and that, in spite of her admiration of
+her hero, she was a little afraid that her notions of independence
+would be wounded.</p>
+<p>They became divided on the question. Mrs. Challoner, who
+had never had a son of her own, and did not much like the idea
+of a son-in-law, was disposed to regard her nephew warmly,
+and to accord to him at once his privilege of being head of the
+family.</p>
+<p>&#8220;In this case, a cousin is as good as a brother,&#8221; she averred;
+and Nan rather leaned to her opinion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You see,&#8221; she said, in her practical way, addressing no one
+in particular, but looking at Phillis, &#8220;it has been terribly against
+us, having no one belonging to us of the same name; and it
+will really give us a standing with some sort of people.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fie, Nan! what a worldly speech! You are thinking of
+that tiresome Mayne <i>pere</i> again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have to think of him,&#8221; returned Nan, not at all put out
+by this. &#8220;Dick&#8217;s father must be a person of great importance to
+me. He has often hinted in my hearing that we have no relations,
+and that the Challoner name will die out. I expect he
+will be rather taken aback at Harry&#8217;s appearance.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; and Dick will be jealous: he always is of other fellows,
+as he calls them. You must score that up against Dick, please.
+Well, I won&#8217;t deny that Harry may make himself useful there:
+all I protest against is the idea that he will bundle us out of this
+dear old Friary, and make us grand, in spite of ourselves.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear old Friary!&mdash;Oh, oh!&#8221; gasped Dulce; and even Nan
+looked mildly surprised.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He will not make me give up my work until I choose,&#8221; continued
+Phillis, who was in an obstinate mood. &#8220;It is not make-believe
+play-work, I can tell him that;&#8221; but Mrs. Challoner
+grew tearful at this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Phillis, my dear, pray hush! Indeed&mdash;indeed I cannot have
+you talking as though you meant and wished to be a dressmaker
+all your life.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And when Phillis asked, &#8220;Why not?&#8221; just for the sake of
+argument,&mdash;for in her heart she was growing heartily sick of
+her employment,&mdash;her mother threw up her hands in despair:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my dear Miss Drummond, do not believe her: Phillis
+is a good girl; but she is always like that,&mdash;hard to be convinced.
+She does not really mean it. She has worked harder
+than any of them; but she has only done it for her mother&#8217;s
+sake.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course she does not mean it,&#8221; echoed Nan, affectionately,
+and much struck by a sudden yearning look on Phillis&#8217;s face,&mdash;an
+expression of smothered pain; but Phillis drew away from
+her sister&#8217;s gentle grasp.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do mean it!&#8221; she said, almost passionately. &#8220;I am
+dreadfully tired of the work sometimes, and hate it. Oh, how
+I hate it! But I think I have been happy, too. I liked the
+excitement of the fighting, and the novelty of the thing; it
+was such fun,&mdash;first shocking people, and then winning them
+over in spite of themselves. One felt &#8216;plucky,&#8217; as Harry said.
+And then one&#8217;s friends were so real.&#8221; And her eyes fell unconsciously
+on Mattie.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes,&#8221; returned Mattie, with her usual gush: &#8220;Archie
+and I took to you from the first. I must say I was surprised,
+knowing how fastidious Archie was, and his notions about
+young ladies in general. But, dear, he never would hear a
+word against you: he was even angry with Colonel Middleton
+the other day because&mdash;but there! I ought not to have told you
+that.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, we know all about it,&#8221; returned Phillis, carelessly; but
+Dulce&#8217;s bright face looked a little overcast. &#8220;Son Hammond is
+in the case; and we can all judge of a father&#8217;s feelings by a
+certain example that shall be nameless. Good gracious,
+mammie! there comes the Alcides himself, and Dorothy has
+not cleared the tea-things! I vote we meet him in the garden,
+to avert breakages.&#8221; And Phillis&#8217;s proposition was carried
+out.</p>
+<p>But when they were all seated in the little parlor again, and
+the lamp was brought, sundry packages made their appearence,
+and were delightedly unpacked by the girls, Phillis assisting
+with great interest, in spite of her heroic speeches.</p>
+<p>&#8220;One can accept gifts from a cousin,&#8221; she said, afterwards.</p>
+<p>Sir Harry had shown good taste in his purchases. The ornaments
+and knick-knacks were all pretty and well chosen. The
+good-natured fellow had ransacked the shops in Paris for such
+things as he thought would please his unknown cousins. The
+bracelets, and fans, and gloves, and laces, made Dulce almost
+dance with glee. The lace was for Aunt Catherine, he said;
+and there were gloves for everybody,&mdash;dozens and dozens of
+them. But the fans and bracelets were for the girls; and to-morrow
+he would get the bonbons for Dulce. And then, as the
+girls laughingly apportioned the spoil, he whispered something
+to Nan, at which she nodded and smiled.</p>
+<p>Mattie, who was carefully admiring the lace in her short-sighted
+way, felt something touch her elbow, and found Nan
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span>
+pushing a fan and a parcel of gloves towards her,&mdash;beautiful
+gloves, such as Isabel had in her trousseau.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; take them; we have so many; and, indeed, we have
+no use for more than a fan apiece. Oh, you extravagant
+Harry!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Sir Harry laughed as he balanced the fan clumsily on his
+huge finger:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Take it; you are very welcome, Miss Mattie. You know
+we are quite old acquaintances; and, indeed, I look on you as
+a sort of cousin.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear!&mdash;thank you; you are very good, Sir Harry,&#8221;
+cried poor Mattie, blushing with pleasure.</p>
+<p>Never had she spent such a day in her life,&mdash;a day wherein
+she had not been once snubbed, except in that remark of
+Archie&#8217;s about her collar, and that did not matter.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor little woman, she looks very happy!&#8221; observed Mrs.
+Challoner, benevolently, as Mattie gathered up her spoils and
+went out of the room, accompanied by Dulce. &#8220;She is such a
+good little soul, and so amiable, that it is a pity Mr. Drummond
+is always finding fault with her. It spoils him, somehow; and
+I am sure she bears it very well.&#8221; She spoke to Nan, for her
+nephew seemed engrossed with tying up Laddie&#8217;s front paw
+with his handkerchief.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid, from what she says, that they all snub her at
+home,&#8221; returned Nan. &#8220;It seems Grace is the favorite; but
+you know, mother, Mattie is just a little tiresome and awkward
+at times.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; but she is very much improved. And I must say
+her temper is of the sweetest; for she never bears her brother
+any malice.&#8221; But at that moment Mattie re-entered the room:
+and Sir Harry, releasing Laddie, proceeded, as in duty bound,
+to escort her to the vicarage.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XLI_SIR_HARRY_BIDES_HIS_TIME' id='CHAPTER_XLI_SIR_HARRY_BIDES_HIS_TIME'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLI.</h2>
+<h3>SIR HARRY BIDES HIS TIME.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Phillis might have spared herself that little outburst to
+which she had given vent on the day of her cousin&#8217;s arrival.
+For, in spite of the lordly way in which he had claimed his prerogative
+as the only male Challoner, Sir Harry took no further
+steps to interfere with her liberty: indeed, as the days and
+even the weeks passed away, and nothing particular happened
+in them, she was even a little disappointed.</p>
+<p>For it is one thing to foster heroic intentions, but quite
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span>
+another when one has no choice in the matter. The heroism
+seemed lost, somehow, when no one took the trouble to combat
+her resolution. Phillis began to tire of her work,&mdash;nay, more,
+to feel positive disgust at it. The merry evenings gave her a
+distaste for her morning labors, and the daylight seemed sometimes
+as though it would never fade into dark, so as to give her
+an excuse for folding up her work.</p>
+<p>These fits of impatience were intermittent, and she spoke of
+them to no one: in other respects the new cousin brought a
+great deal of brightness and pleasure into their daily life.</p>
+<p>They all grew very fond of him. Mrs. Challoner, indeed, was
+soon heard to say that she almost loved him like a son,&mdash;a
+speech that reached Dick&#8217;s ears by and by and made him excessively
+angry. &#8220;I should like to kick that fellow,&#8221; he growled,
+as he read the words. But then Dick never liked interlopers.
+He had conceived a hatred of Mr. Drummond on the spot. Sir
+Harry took up his quarters at the same hotel where Dick and
+his father had spent that one dreary evening. He gave lavish
+orders and excited a great deal of attention and talk by his careless
+munificence. Without being positively extravagant he
+had a free-handed way of spending his money: as he often
+said, &#8220;he liked to see things comfortable about him.&#8221; And, as
+his notions of comfort were somewhat expensive, his host soon
+conceived a great respect for him,&mdash;all the more that he gave
+himself no airs, never talked about his wealth except to his
+cousins, and treated his title as though it were not of the slightest
+consequence to himself or any one else; indeed, he was
+decidedly modest in all matters pertaining to himself.</p>
+<p>But, being a generous soul, he loved to give. Every few days
+he went up to London, and he never returned without bringing
+gifts to the Friary. Dulce, who was from the first his chief
+favorite, revelled in French bonbons; hampers of wine, of
+choice game, or fruit from Covent Garden, filled the tiny larder
+to overflowing. Silks and ribbons, and odds and ends of female
+finery, were sent down from Marshall &amp; Snelgrove&#8217;s, or Swan &amp;
+Edgar&#8217;s. In vain Mrs. Challoner implored him not to spoil the
+girls, who had never had so many pretty things in their lives,
+and hardly knew what to do with them. Sir Harry would not
+deny himself this pleasure; and he came up evening after evening,
+overflowing with health and spirits, to join the family
+circle in the small parlor and enliven them with his stories of
+colonial life.</p>
+<p>People began to talk about him. He was too big and too
+prominent a figure to pass unnoticed in Hadleigh. The Challoners
+and their odd ways, and their cousin the baronet who was
+a millionaire and unmarried, were canvassed in many a drawing-room.
+&#8220;We always knew they were not just &#8216;nobodies,&#8217;&#8221;
+as one young lady observed; and another remarked, a little
+scornfully, &#8220;that she supposed Sir Henry Challoner would put
+a stop to all that ridiculous dressmaking now.&#8221; But when they
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span>
+found that Nan and Phillis went about as usual, taking orders
+and fitting on dresses, their astonishment knew no bounds.</p>
+<p>Sir Harry watched them with a secret chuckle. &#8220;He must
+put a stop to all that presently,&#8221; he said; but just at first it
+amused him to see it all. &#8220;It was so pretty and plucky of
+them,&#8221; he thought.</p>
+<p>He would saunter into the work-room in the morning, and
+watch them for an hour together as he sat and talked to them.
+After the first they never minded him, and his presence made
+no difference to them. Nan measured and cut out, and consulted
+Phillis in her difficulties, as usual. Dulce sang over her
+sewing-machine, and Phillis went from one to the other with a
+grave, intent face. Sometimes she would speak petulantly to
+him, and bid him not whistle or tease Laddie: but that was
+when one of her fits of impatience was on her. She was generally
+gracious to him, and made him welcome.</p>
+<p>When he was tired of sitting quiet, he would take refuge with
+Aunt Catherine in her little parlor, or go into the vicarage for
+a chat with Mattie and her brother: he was becoming very
+intimate there. Sometimes, but not often, he would call at the
+White House; but, though the Cheynes liked him, and Magdalene
+was amused at his simplicity, there was not much in common
+between them.</p>
+<p>He had taken a liking to Colonel Middleton and his daughter,
+and would have found his way to Brooklyn over and over again,
+only the colonel gave him no encouragement. They had met
+accidentally in the grounds of the White House, and Mr. Cheyne
+had introduced them to each other; but the colonel bore himself
+very stiffly on that occasion and ever after when they met on
+the Parade and in the reading-room. In his heart he was secretly
+attracted by Sir Harry&#8217;s blunt ways and honest face; but he was
+a cousin of those Challoners, and intimacy was not to be desired:
+so their intercourse was limited to a brief word or
+two.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your father does not want to know me,&#8221; he said once, in
+his outspoken way, to Miss Middleton, when they met at the very
+gate of Brooklyn, and she had asked him, with some little hesitation,
+if he were coming in. &#8220;It is a pity,&#8221; he added, regretfully,
+&#8220;for I have taken a fancy to him: he seems a downright
+good sort, and we agree in politics.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elizabeth blushed; for once her courtesy and love of truth
+were sadly at variance.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He does like you very much, Sir Harry,&#8221; she said; and
+then she hesitated.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Only my cousins sew gowns,&#8221; he returned, with a twinkle
+of amusement in his eyes, &#8220;so he must not encourage me,&mdash;eh,
+Miss Middleton?&mdash;as we are all in the same boat. Well, we
+must allow for prejudice. By and by we will alter all that.&#8221;
+And then he gave her a good-natured nod, and sauntered away
+to tell his old friend Mattie all about it; for he had a kindly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span>
+feeling towards the little woman, and made her his confidante
+on these occasions.</p>
+<p>Phillis still called him Alcides, to his endless mystification:
+but she privately wondered when his labors were to begin.
+After that first afternoon he did not speak much of his future
+intentions: indeed, he was a little reserved with the girls, considering
+their intimacy; but to his aunt he was less reticent.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you know, Aunt Catherine,&#8221; he said one day to her,
+&#8220;that that old house of yours&mdash;Glen Cottage, is it not?&mdash;will
+soon be in the market? Ibbetson wants to get off the remainder
+of the lease.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner leaned back in her chair and put down her
+knitting:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you sure, Harry? Then Adelaide was right: she
+told me in her last letter that Mrs. Ibbetson&#8217;s health was so bad
+that they thought of wintering at Hyeres, and that there was
+some talk of giving up the house.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, it is true,&#8221; he returned, carelessly; &#8220;Ibbetson told
+me so himself. It is a pretty little place enough, and they have
+done a good deal to it, even in a few months: they want to get
+off the lease, and rid themselves of the furniture, which seems to
+be all new. It appears they have had some money left to them
+unexpectedly; and now Mrs. Ibbetson&#8217;s health is so bad, he wants
+to try travelling, and thinks it a great pity to be hampered with
+a house at present. I should say the poor little woman is in a
+bad way, myself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear me, how sad! And they have been married so short
+a time,&mdash;not more than six months. She comes of a weakly
+stock, I fear. I always said she looked consumptive, poor thing!
+Dear little Glen Cottage! and to think it will change hands so
+soon again!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You seem fond of it, Aunt Catherine,&#8221; for her tone was full
+of regret.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear,&#8221; she answered, seriously, &#8220;I always loved that
+cottage so! The drawing-room and the garden were just to my
+taste; and then the girls were so happy there.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Would you not like a grander house to live in?&#8221; he asked,
+in the same indifferent tone. &#8220;I do not think it is half good
+enough for you and the girls.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner opened her eyes rather widely at this: but
+his voice gave her no clue to his real meaning, and she thought
+it was just his joking way with her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It would seem a palace after this!&#8221; she returned, with a
+sigh. &#8220;Somehow, I never cared for great big houses, they are
+so much expense to keep up; and when one has not a man in
+the house&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, you have me, Aunt Catherine!&#8221; speaking up rather
+briskly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, my dear; and you are a great comfort to us all. It
+is so nice to have some one to consult; and, though I would
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span>
+not say so to Nan for the world, Dick is so young that I never
+could consult him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;By the bye, that reminds me I must have a look at that
+young fellow,&#8221; returned her nephew. &#8220;Let me see, the Oxford
+term is over, and he will be home again. Suppose I run over
+to Oldfield&mdash;it is no distance from town&mdash;and leave my card on
+Mr. Mayne senior?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You, Harry!&#8221; And Mrs. Challoner looked quite taken
+aback at the proposition.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; he remarked, candidly, &#8220;I think it is about time
+something was done: Nan looks awfully serious sometimes.
+What is the good of being the head of one&#8217;s family, if one is not
+to settle an affair like that? I don&#8217;t feel inclined to put up with
+any more nonsense in that quarter, I can tell you that, Aunt
+Catherine.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, Harry,&#8221;&mdash;growing visibly alarmed,&mdash;&#8220;you do not
+know Mr. Mayne: he can make himself so excessively disagreeable.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So can most men when they like.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; but not exactly in that way. I believe he is really
+very fond of Dick; but he wants to order his life in his own
+way, and no young man will stand that.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, by Jove! that is rather too strong for a fellow. I
+should say Master Dick could not put up with that.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It seems my poor Nan is not good enough for his son, just
+because she had no money and has been obliged to make herself
+useful. Does it not seem hard, Harry?&mdash;my beautiful Nan!
+And the Maynes are just nobodies: why, Mr. Mayne&#8217;s father
+was only a shopkeeper in a very small way, and his wife&#8217;s
+family was no better!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, you must not expect me to understand all that,&#8221; replied
+her nephew, in a puzzled tone. &#8220;In the colonies, we did
+not think much about that sort of thing: it would not have
+done there to inquire too narrowly into a man&#8217;s antecedents.
+I knew capital fellows whose fathers had been butchers, and
+bakers, and candlestick-makers; and, bless me! what does it
+matter if the fellow is all right himself?&#8221; he finished; for the
+last Challoner was a decided Radical.</p>
+<p>But Mrs. Challoner, who was mildly obstinate in such matters,
+would not yield her point:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You would think differently if you had been educated at
+Eton. In England, it is necessary to discriminate among one&#8217;s
+acquaintances. I find no fault with Dick: he is as nice and
+gentlemanly as possible; but his father has not got his good-breeding;
+possibly he had not his advantages. But it is they&mdash;the
+Maynes&mdash;who would be honored by an alliance with one of
+my daughters.&#8221; And Mrs. Challoner raised her head and drew
+herself up with such queenly dignity that Sir Harry dared not
+argue the point.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; I see,&#8221; he returned, hastily. &#8220;Well, I shall let
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span>
+him know what you think. You need not be afraid I shall
+lower your dignity, Aunt Catherine. I meant to be rather high
+and mighty myself,&mdash;that is, if I could manage it.&#8221; And he
+broke into one of his huge laughs.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner was very fond of her nephew; but she was
+not a clever woman, and she did not always understand his
+hints. When they were alone together, he was perpetually
+making this sort of remarks to her in a half-serious, half-joking
+way, eliciting her opinions, consulting her tastes, with a view
+to his future plans.</p>
+<p>With the girls he was provokingly reticent. Phillis and
+Dulce used to catechise him sometimes; but his replies were
+always evasive.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you know, Harry,&#8221; Phillis said to him once, very
+gravely, &#8220;I think you are leading a dreadfully idle life? You
+do nothing absolutely all day but walk to and fro between the
+hotel and the Friary.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come, now,&#8221; retorted her cousin, in an injured tone, &#8220;I call
+that confoundedly hard on a fellow who has come all these
+thousands of miles just to cultivate his relations and enjoy a
+little relaxation. Have I not worked hard enough all my life to
+earn a holiday now?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes,&#8221; she returned, provokingly, &#8220;we all know how
+hard you have worked; but all the same it does not do to play
+at idleness too long. You are very much improved, Harry.
+Your tailor has done wonders for you; and I should not be
+ashamed to walk down Bond Street with you any afternoon,
+though the people do stare, because you are so big. But don&#8217;t
+you think it is time to settle down? You might take rooms
+somewhere. Lord Fitzroy knows of some capital ones in Sackville
+Street; Algie Burgoyne had them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, no, thank you, Phillis: I don&#8217;t think I shall go in for
+rooms.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, then, a house: you know you are so excessively rich,
+Harry,&#8221; drawling out her words in imitation of his rather slow
+pronunciation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, of course I shall take a house; but there is plenty of
+time for that.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And when she pressed him somewhat eagerly to tell her in
+what neighborhood he meant to live, he only shrugged his
+shoulders, and remarked, carelessly, that he would have a look
+round at all sorts of places by and by.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But do you mean to take a house and live all alone?&#8221; asked
+Dulce. &#8220;Won&#8217;t you find it rather dull?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s a fellow to do?&#8221; replied her cousin, enigmatically.
+&#8220;I suppose Aunt Catherine will not undertake the care of me?&mdash;I
+am too big, as you call it, for a houseful of women!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, yes; perhaps you are,&#8221; she replied, contemplating
+him thoughtfully. &#8220;We should not know quite what to do
+with you.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I wish I could get rid of a few of my superfluous inches,&#8221;
+he remarked, dolorously; &#8220;for people seem to find me sadly in
+the way sometimes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But Dulce said, kindly,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, Harry; we never find you in the way: do we,
+mammie? We should be dreadfully dull without you now. I
+can hear you whistling a quarter of a mile off, and it sounds so
+cheerful. If there were only a house big enough for you next
+door, that would do nicely.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh. I dare say I shall not be far off: shall I, Aunt Catherine?&#8221;
+for, to his aunt&#8217;s utter bewilderment, he had established
+a sort of confidence between them, and expected her to understand
+all his vague hints. &#8220;You will not speak about this to
+the girls; this is just between you and me,&#8221; he would say to
+her, when sometimes she had not a notion what he meant.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t understand you, Harry,&#8221; she said, once. &#8220;Why
+did you stop me just now when I was going to tell Phillis about
+the Ibbetsons leaving Glen Cottage? She would have been so
+interested.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must keep that to yourself a little while, Aunt Catherine:
+it will be such a surprise to the girls, you know. Did I
+tell you about the new conservatory Ibbetson has built? It
+leads out of the drawing-room, and improves the room wonderfully,
+they say.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear Harry! what an expense! That is just what Mr.
+Mayne was always wanting us to do; and Nan was so fond of
+flowers. It was just what the room needed to make it perfect.&#8221;
+And Mrs. Challoner folded her hands, with a sigh at the remembrance
+of the house she had loved so dearly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They say Gilsbank is for sale,&#8221; remarked her nephew, rather
+suddenly, after this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What! Gilsbank, where old Admiral Hawkins lived? Nan
+saw the announcement of his death the other day, and she said
+then the place would soon be put up for sale. Poor old man!
+He was a martyr to gout.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I had a look at it the other day,&#8221; he replied, coolly.
+&#8220;Why, it is not a hundred yards from your old cottage. There
+is a tidy bit of land, and the house is not so bad, only it wants
+doing up; but the furniture&mdash;that is for sale too&mdash;is very old-fashioned
+and shabby.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you thinking of it for yourself?&#8221; asked his aunt, in
+surprise. &#8220;Why, Gilsbank is a large place; it would never do
+for a single man. You would find the rooms Phillis proposed
+far handier.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, Aunt Catherine!&#8221; in a tone of strong remonstrance.
+&#8220;You don&#8217;t mean to condemn me to a life of single blessedness
+because of my size?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Harry, of course not! My dear boy, what an idea!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And some one may be found in time who could put up even
+with red hair.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; that need not be an obstacle.&#8221; But she looked at
+him with vague alarm. Of whom could he be thinking?</p>
+<p>He caught her expression, and threw back his head with one
+of his merry laughs:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, Aunt Catherine; you need not be afraid. I am not
+going to make love to one of my cousins; I know your views on
+the subject, and that would not suit my book at all. I am
+quite on your side there.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Surely you will tell me, my dear, if you are serious?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, when I have anything to tell; but I think I will
+have a good look round first.&#8221; And then, of his own accord, he
+changed the subject. He was a little sparing of his hints after
+that, even to his aunt.</p>
+<p>It was shortly after this that he came into the Friary one
+evening and electrified his cousins by two pieces of news. He
+had just called at the vicarage, he said; but he had not gone in,
+for Miss Mattie had run downstairs in a great bustle to tell him
+her sister Grace had just arrived. Her brother had been down
+to Leeds and brought her up with him. Phillis put down her
+work; her face had become suddenly rather pale.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Grace has come,&#8221; she half whispered to herself. And then
+she added aloud, &#8220;Poor Mattie will be glad, and sorry too!
+She will like to have her sister with her for the New Year; but
+in a few weeks she will have to pack up her own things and go
+home. And she was only saying the other day that she has
+never been so happy in her life as she has been here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why can&#8217;t she stay, then?&#8221; asked Sir Harry, rather abruptly.
+&#8220;I don&#8217;t hold with people making themselves miserable
+for nothing: that does not belong to my creed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, poor Mattie has not a choice in the matter,&#8221; returned
+Nan, who had grown very fond of her little neighbor. &#8220;Though
+she is thirty, she must still do as other people bid her. They cannot
+both be spared from home,&mdash;at least, I believe not,&mdash;and so
+her mother has recalled her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, but that is nonsense!&#8221; replied Sir Harry, rather crossly
+for him. &#8220;Girls are spared well enough when they are married.
+And I thought the Drummonds were not well off. Did not
+Phillis tell me so?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;They are very badly off; but then, you see, Mr. Drummond
+does not want two sisters to take care of his house; and, though
+he tries to be good to Mattie, he is not so fond of her as he is of
+his sister Grace; and they have always planned to live together,
+and so poor Mattie has to go.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and I must say I am sorry for the poor little woman,&#8221;
+observed Mrs. Challoner. &#8220;There is a large family of girls and
+boys,&mdash;I think Mr. Drummond told us he had seven sisters,&mdash;and
+Mattie seems left out in the cold among them all: they
+laugh at her oddities, and quiz her most unmercifully; even Mr.
+Drummond does, and Nan scolds him for it; but he has not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span>
+been so bad lately. It is rather hard that none of them seem
+to want her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You forget Grace is very good to her, mother,&#8221; broke in
+Phillis, somewhat eagerly. &#8220;Mattie always says so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;By the by, I must have a look at this paragon. Is not her
+name among those in my pocket-book?&#8221; returned her cousin,
+wickedly. &#8220;I saw Miss Sartoris at Oldfield that day, and she
+was too grand for my taste. Why, a fellow would never dare
+to speak to her. I have scored that one off the list, Phillis.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dears, what have you been saying to Harry?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, nothing, mammie,&#8221; returned Dulce, hastily, fearing her
+mother would be shocked. &#8220;Phillis was only in her nonsense-mood;
+but Harry is such a goose, and will take things seriously.
+I wish you would let me have your pocket-book a moment, and
+I would tear out the page.&#8221; But Sir Harry returned it safely
+to his pocket.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What was your other piece of news?&#8221; asked Nan, in her
+quiet voice, when all this chatter had subsided.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I had almost forgotten it myself! only Miss Middleton
+charged me to tell you that &#8216;son Hammond&#8217; has arrived by
+the P. and O. Steamer the &#8216;Cerberus,&#8217; and that she and her
+father were just starting for Southampton to meet him.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XLII_COME_NOW_I_CALL_THAT_HARD' id='CHAPTER_XLII_COME_NOW_I_CALL_THAT_HARD'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLII.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;COME, NOW, I CALL THAT HARD.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Phillis was unusually silent during the remainder of the
+evening; but, as she bade Nan good-night at the door of her
+little room, she lingered a moment, shading the flame of her
+candle with her hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you think Mattie will bring her sister round to see us,
+to-morrow?&#8221; she asked, in a very low tone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes,&mdash;I am sure I hope so,&#8221; returned Nan, sleepily, not
+noticing the restrained eagerness of Phillis&#8217;s manner. &#8220;We can
+hardly call first, under our present circumstances. Mr. Drummond
+knows that.&#8221; And Phillis withdrew, as though she were
+satisfied with the answer.</p>
+<p>Nothing more was said on the subject; and they settled themselves
+to their work as usual on the following morning, Dulce
+chattering and singing snatches of songs,&mdash;for she was a most
+merry little soul,&mdash;Nan cheerful and ready for conversation
+with any one; but Phillis withdrew herself to the farthest
+window and stitched away in grave silence. And, seeing such
+was her mood, her sisters wisely forbore to disturb her.</p>
+<p>At twelve o&#8217;clock the gate-bell sounded, and Dulce, who
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span>
+hailed any interruption as a joyful reprieve, announced delightedly
+that Mattie and a tall young lady were coming up the
+flagged walk; and in an instant Phillis&#8217;s work lay untouched
+on her lap.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you all here? Oh, dear, I am so glad,&#8221; exclaimed
+Mattie, bustling into the room with a radiant face. &#8220;I have
+brought Grace to see you; she arrived last night.&#8221; And in a
+moment the young stranger was surrounded and welcomed
+most cordially.</p>
+<p>Phillis looked at her curiously for a moment: indeed, during
+the whole visit her eyes rested upon Grace&#8217;s face from time to
+time, as though she were studying her. She had heard so
+much of this girl that she had almost feared to be disappointed in
+her; but every moment her interest increased.</p>
+<p>Grace Drummond was not a pretty girl,&mdash;with the exception
+of Isabel and the boys, the Drummond family had not the
+slightest pretension to beauty,&mdash;but she was fair and tranquil-looking,
+and her expression was gentle and full of character.
+She had very soft clear eyes, with a trace of sadness in them; but
+her lips were thin&mdash;like her mother&#8217;s&mdash;and closed firmly, and
+the chin was a little massively cut for a woman.</p>
+<p>In looking at the lower part of this girl&#8217;s face, a keen observer
+would read the tenacity of a strong will; but the eyes
+had the appealing softness that one sees in some dumb
+creatures.</p>
+<p>They won Phillis at once. After the first moment, her reserved
+manner thawed and became gracious; and before half
+an hour had passed she and Grace were talking as though they
+had known each other all their lives.</p>
+<p>Nan watched them smilingly as she chatted with Mattie: she
+knew her sister was fastidious in her likings, and that she did not
+take to people easily. Phillis was pleasant to all her friends
+and acquaintances: but she was rarely intimate with them,
+as Nan and Dulce were wont to be. She held her head a little
+high, as though she felt her own superiority.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Phillis is very amusing and clever; but one does not know
+her as well as Nan and Dulce,&#8221; even Carrie Paine had been
+heard to say; and certainly Phillis had never talked to Carrie
+as she did to this stranger.</p>
+<p>Grace was just as must charmed on her side. On her return,
+she delighted and yet pained her brother by her warm praises
+of his favorites.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Archie!&#8221; she exclaimed, as they sat at luncheon in the
+old wainscoted dining-room at the vicarage, &#8220;you are quite
+right in saying the Challoners are not like any other girls. They
+are all three so nice and pretty; but the second one&mdash;Miss
+Phillis&mdash;is most to my taste.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Archie checked an involuntary exclamation, but Mattie
+covered it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear me, Grace!&#8221; she observed, innocently; &#8220;I rather
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span>
+wonder at your saying that. Nan is by far the prettiest: is she
+not, Archie? Her complexion and coloring are perfect.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes! If you are talking of mere looks, I cannot dispute
+that,&#8221; returned Grace, a little impatiently; &#8220;but, in my
+opinion, there is far more in her sister&#8217;s face: she has the beauty
+of expression, which is far higher than that of form or coloring.
+I should say she has far more character than either of them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;They are none of them wanting in that,&#8221; replied Archie,
+breaking up his bread absently.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; that&#8217;s just what I say: they are perfectly unlike other
+girls. They are so fresh, and simple, and unconscious, that it
+is quite a pleasure to be with them: but if I were to choose a
+friend from among them I should certainly select Miss Phillis.&#8221;
+And to this her brother made no reply.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They are all so pleased about Tuesday,&#8221; interrupted Mattie,
+at this point,&mdash;&#8220;Nan was so interested and amused about my
+grand tea-party, as she called it. They have all promised to
+come, only Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s cold will not allow her to go out
+this severe weather. And then we met Sir Harry, and I introduced
+him to Grace, and he will be delighted to come too. I
+wish you would let me ask Miss Middleton and her brother,
+Archie; and then we should be such a nice little party.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How can you be so absurd, Mattie?&#8221; returned Archie, with
+a touch of his old irritability. &#8220;A nice confusion you would
+make, if you were left to arrange things! You know the
+colonel&#8217;s one object in life is to prevent his son from having any
+intercourse with the Challoners; and you would ask him to
+meet them the first evening after his arrival in the place.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is the father so narrow in his prejudices as that?&#8221; asked
+Grace, who had quite forgotten her own shocked feelings when
+she first heard that Archie was visiting a family of dressmakers
+on equal terms.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear! I forgot,&#8221; sighed Mattie, taking her brother&#8217;s
+blame meekly, as usual. &#8220;How very stupid of me! But would
+you not like the Cheynes or the Leslies invited, Archie? Grace
+ought to be introduced to some of the best people.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You may leave Grace to me,&#8221; returned her brother, somewhat
+haughtily: &#8220;I will take care of her introductions. As
+for your tea-party, Mattie, I shall be much obliged if you will
+keep it within its first limits,&mdash;just the Challoners and Sir
+Harry. If any one be asked, it ought to be Noel Frere: he has
+rather a dull time of it, living alone in lodgings,&#8221;&mdash;the Rev.
+Noel Frere being a college chum of Archie&#8217;s, who had come
+down to Hadleigh to recruit himself by a month or two of idleness.
+&#8220;Perhaps we had better have him, as there will be so
+many ladies.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes,&mdash;of course! He is so nice and clever,&#8221; observed
+Grace, not noticing the shade on Mattie&#8217;s face. &#8220;How pleased
+you must be to have him staying here so long, Archie!&mdash;you
+two were always such friends.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;He comes nearly every evening,&#8221; returned Mattie, disconsolately.
+&#8220;He may suit you, Grace, because you are clever
+yourself; but I am dreadfully afraid of him, he is so dry and
+sarcastic. Must he really be asked for Tuesday, Archie?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed: you ought to have thought of him first. I
+am sorry for your bad taste, Mattie, if you do not like Frere:
+he is a splendid fellow, though terribly delicate, I fear. Now,
+Gracie, if we have finished luncheon, I should like you to put
+on your wraps, and I will show you some of my favorite haunts;
+and perhaps we shall meet Frere.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Grace hesitated for a moment. She thought Archie would
+have included Mattie in his invitation; but he did nothing of
+the kind, and she knew him too well to suggest such a thing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good-bye, Mattie dear. I hope you will have some tea
+ready for us when we come back,&#8221; she said, kissing her sister
+affectionately; but they neither of them noticed the pained
+wistfulness of Mattie&#8217;s look as the door closed upon them.</p>
+<p>They were going out without her; and on Grace&#8217;s first day,
+too. Archie was going to show her the church, and the
+schools, and the model cottages where his favorite old women
+lived,&mdash;all those places that Mattie had visited and learned to
+love during the eight months she had lived with her brother.
+In a few weeks she must say good-bye to them all, and go back
+to the dull old house at Leeds, to be scolded by her mother for
+her awkward ways, and to be laughed at and teased by her
+brothers and sisters. Archie was bad enough sometimes, but
+then he was Archie, and had a right to his bad humors; but
+with the boys and girls it was less endurable. It was, &#8220;Oh,
+you stupid old Matt! Of course it was all your fault;&#8221; or,
+&#8220;Mattie, you goose!&#8221; from Fred; or, &#8220;You silly child, Mattie&#8221;
+from her father, who found her a less amusing companion
+than Grace; and even Dottie would say, &#8220;Oh, it is only
+Mattie: I never care if she scolds me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The home atmosphere was a little depressing, Mattie thought,
+with a sigh, dearly as she loved her young torments. She knew
+she would find it somewhat trying after these eight months of
+comparative freedom. True, Archie had snubbed her and kept
+her in order; but one tyrant is preferable to many. At home the
+thirty-years-old Mattie was only one of the many daughters,&mdash;the
+old maid of the family,&mdash;the unattractive little wall-flower
+who was condemned to wither unnoticed on its stalk. Here, in
+her brother&#8217;s vicarage, she had been a person of consequence,
+whom only the master of the house presumed to snub.</p>
+<p>The maids liked their good-natured mistress, who never found
+fault with them, and who was so bustling and clever a little
+housekeeper. The poor people and the school-children liked
+Mattie too. &#8220;Our Miss Drummond&#8221; they called her for a long
+time, rather to Grace&#8217;s discomfiture. &#8220;Ah, she is a rare one,
+when a body is low!&#8221; as old Goody Saunders once said.</p>
+<p>And Archie&#8217;s friends respected the little woman, in spite of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span>
+her crudities and decidedly odd ways. Miss Middleton and the
+Challoners were quite fond of her. So no wonder Mattie grew
+low at the thought of leaving her friends.</p>
+<p>Grace had come to take her place. Nevertheless, she had
+welcomed her on the previous evening with the utmost cheerfulness
+and unselfishness. She had shown her the house; she
+had introduced her to the Challoners; she had overwhelmed
+her with a thousand little attentions; and Grace had not been
+ungrateful.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid this is hard for you, Mattie,&#8221; Grace had said to
+her, as the sisters were unpacking late the previous night. &#8220;I
+ought not be so happy to come, when I know I am turning you
+out.&#8221; And Mattie had winked away a tear, and answered, quite
+cheerily,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, Grace; you must not feel that. I have had a nice
+time, and enjoyed myself so much with dear Archie, and now
+it is your turn; and, you know, he has always wanted you from
+the first.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor dear fellow!&#8221; murmured Grace; &#8220;but he looks thin,
+Mattie. Perhaps I ought to be here, as he wants me; but I shall
+never keep his house as beautifully as you have done. Mother
+would be astonished if she saw it.&#8221; And this piece of well-deserved
+praise went far to console Mattie that night.</p>
+<p>But she began to feel just a little sore at breakfast-time.
+Once or twice, Archie decidedly ignored her, and turned to
+Grace; he even brought her his gloves to mend, though Mattie
+had been his faithful mender all these months.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come into the study, and we will have a talk, Grace,&#8221; he
+had said, and as Grace had involuntarily waited for her sister
+to accompany them, he had-added, hastily: &#8220;Oh, Mattie is
+always busy at this time with butchers and bakers! Come
+along, Grace:&#8221; and, though Mattie had no such business on her
+hands, she dared not join them.</p>
+<p>It was only when a parish meeting called the young vicar
+away that Mattie bethought herself of the Challoners.</p>
+<p>Poor Mattie! Low spirits were not much in her line. She
+had never thought enough of herself to indulge in the luxury
+of wounded susceptibility,&mdash;the atmosphere that surrounded
+her had been too rough and bracing for that; but nevertheless
+this afternoon she longed to indulge in a good cry. Happily,
+however, before the first tear had begun to redden her eyelids&mdash;indeed,
+she hardly got her mouth into the proper pucker&mdash;a
+vigorous pull at the bell warned her of an impending visitor, and
+immediately afterwards Sir Harry marched into the room, looking
+ruddier than ever with the cold air and exercise, his warm
+coloring kindling a glow in the room.</p>
+<p>His heavy footsteps shook the old flooring of the vicarage;
+but as he greeted Mattie he looked round him, as though somewhat
+surprised to find her alone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How do you do, Miss Mattie? Why, what have you done
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span>
+with your sister?&#8221; he asked, in rather a disappointed tone.
+&#8220;I came to have a chat with you both.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Another little sting for Mattie: he had only come to see Grace.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She has gone out with Archie,&#8221; she returned, in a subdued
+voice. &#8220;He is showing her the church and the schools.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was up at the Friary just now,&#8221; he said, carelessly, &#8220;and
+they were all talking about your sister, praising her up to the
+skies. What an odd capacity women have for falling in love
+with each other at first sight! Phillis especially seemed very
+far gone. So I told them I would just come and have a good
+look at this paragon: one cannot judge of a person in a hat and
+veil.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sure you will like Grace,&#8221; replied Mattie, reviving a
+little at the idea of her sister&#8217;s perfections. &#8220;She is not pretty,
+exactly, though Archie and I think her so; but she is so nice and
+clever. Oh, you should hear those two talk! it is perfectly
+wonderful to listen to them!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It strikes me you are a little left out in the cold, aren&#8217;t you,
+Miss Mattie?&#8221; asked Sir Harry, with one of his shrewd good-humored
+looks. &#8220;Why did you not go out with them?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Archie never wants me when he has Grace,&#8221; answered
+Mattie, with a sudden pang at the truthfulness of this speech.
+&#8220;They have always been so much to each other, those two.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He would want you fast enough if Miss Grace&mdash;is that not
+her name?&mdash;were to marry and leave him to shift for himself,&#8221;
+was the somewhat matter-of-fact answer.</p>
+<p>But Mattie shook her head at this with a faint smile:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Grace will never marry. She would not leave Archie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, but that is nonsense, do you know?&mdash;sheer nonsense!
+Many girls talk like that, but they change their mind in the
+end. Why, the parson may marry himself. You don&#8217;t suppose
+a good looking fellow like that intends to be an old bachelor?
+And then what will Miss Grace do?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know. I am afraid she will miss him dreadfully.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, but she will get over it all right. It does not do to
+make a fuss over that sort of thing. Sentimentality between
+brothers and sisters is all very well in its way, but it won&#8217;t
+hold against a wife&#8217;s or husband&#8217;s claims. I never had any
+myself, so I don&#8217;t know; but I find it precious lonely without
+them. That is why I have adopted my cousins. A man must
+care for some one.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed,&#8221; echoed Mattie, with a sigh.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid your people do not use you very well, Miss
+Mattie,&#8221; he went on, with cheerful sympathy that was quite a
+cordial in its way. &#8220;You look a bit down this afternoon; a
+fellow would call it in the blues, and he would be thinking of a
+cigar and brandy-and-soda. What a pity women don&#8217;t smoke!
+it is no end soothing to the spirits!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We have got afternoon tea,&#8221; returned Mattie, beginning to
+smile at this.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, why don&#8217;t you ring and order some?&#8221; he replied,
+quite seriously. &#8220;Do, please, Miss Mattie, if it will put a little
+heart into you. Why, I should like a cup myself uncommonly.
+There never was such a fellow for afternoon tea.&#8221; And then
+Mattie did ring the bell, and, Sir Harry having stirred the fire
+into a cheerful blaze, and the little brass kettle beginning to
+sing cheerily on its trivet, things soon looked more comfortable.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now you are all right,&#8221; he remarked, presently. &#8220;You
+look quite a different sort of body now. When I first came in
+you reminded me of Cinderella in a brown dress, sitting all
+alone, by a very black fire. I do believe you were on the verge
+of crying. Now, weren&#8217;t you, Miss Mattie?&#8221; And Mattie, with
+much shame, owned to the impeachment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And what was it all about, eh?&#8221; he asked, with such a
+coaxing peremptoriness that Mattie confessed that she was
+rather dull at the thought that nobody wanted her, and that
+she must go home; and, on being further pressed and questioned,
+out it all came,&mdash;Mattie&#8217;s shortcomings, her stupid
+ways, and the provocation she offered to home criticism. Sir
+Harry listened and laughed, and every now and then threw in
+a jesting remark; but so encouraging was his manner and so
+evident his interest that Mattie found herself talking as she had
+never done to any one but Miss Middleton. Before she had
+finished, Sir Harry knew all about the household in Lowder
+Street, and had formed a tolerable estimate of every member of
+the family,&mdash;the depressed father; the care-worn and some
+what stern mother; the boys, clever and handsome and flippant;
+the girls in all stages of awkwardness; and the quiet,
+talented Grace, who was every one&#8217;s right hand, and who had
+come to the vicarage to dispossess Mattie.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come, now, I call that hard; I do, upon my word!&#8221; he
+repeated more than once at the end of Mattie&#8217;s little narrative.
+&#8220;Women have a lot put upon them. I dare say if I had had
+sisters I should have bullied them sometimes. Men are awful
+tyrants, aren&#8217;t they, Miss Mattie?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mattie took this literally.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not think you would be a tyrant, Sir Harry,&#8221; she returned,
+simply, and then wondered why he suddenly colored
+up to the roots of his hair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, there is no knowing,&#8221; he replied, in an embarrassed
+tone. &#8220;I have never had any one to bully. I think I shall try
+my hand on Dulce, only she is such a little spit-fire. Well, I
+must be going,&#8221; he went on, straightening himself. &#8220;By the
+bye, I shall not see you again until Tuesday; I have to run
+over to Oldfield about a lot of business I have in hand. Do
+you know Oldfield?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no; but Nan and Phillis have described it so often that
+I seem as though I have been there.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;It is a niceish place, and I am half inclined to settle there
+myself; there is a house going that would just suit me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mattie&#8217;s face lengthened: she did not like the idea of losing
+Sir Harry, he had been so good-natured and kind to her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;One would never see you if you live at Oldfield,&#8221; she said, a
+little sorrowfully; and again Sir Harry looked embarrassed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, but you will be at Leeds, so it won&#8217;t make much difference.
+But I do not want to be parted from Aunt Catherine and
+the girls: there is a great deal to arrange. Perhaps, before you
+go, I shall be able to tell you that things are settled. Anyhow,
+good-bye till Tuesday.&#8221; And then he nodded to her in a friendly
+way, and Mattie returned to her fireplace refreshed and comforted.</p>
+<p>Archie and Grace came in presently, bringing another current
+of cold air with them. They both looked bright and happy,
+as though they had enjoyed their walk. Grace&#8217;s pale cheeks
+had the loveliest tinge in them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have we left you too long alone, Mattie dear?&#8221; she asked,
+as she took the cup of tea offered her. &#8220;How cosy this dear
+old room looks! and what a beautiful fire!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sir Harry has been emptying the coal-scuttle!&#8221; laughed
+Mattie. &#8220;What a pity you missed him, Grace! he has been so
+amusing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Grace smiled incredulously:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, that great big Sir Harry Challoner whom you introduced
+this morning! my dear Mattie, I am sure he could never
+be amusing. I was not greatly prepossessed with him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mattie&#8217;s geese are all swans. I don&#8217;t think much of him
+myself,&#8221; broke in Archie, in a satirical voice. &#8220;I like quality
+better than quantity. He is so big, I am sure his brains must
+suffer by comparison. Now, there is Frere.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, we met Mr. Frere!&#8221; interrupted Grace, eagerly;
+&#8220;and Archie and he had such a talk: it was delightful only to
+listen to it. I liked his ideas on ecclesiastical architecture,
+Archie.&#8221; And then followed an animated discussion between
+the sister and brother, about a book of Ruskin&#8217;s that they had
+both been reading. Mattie tried to follow them; but she had
+not read Ruskin, and they soon left her miles behind; indeed,
+after the first few minutes they seemed to have forgotten her
+existence; but somehow Mattie did not feel so forlorn as
+usual.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come, now, I call that hard,&#8221; a sympathizing voice seemed
+to say in her ear. Sir Harry&#8217;s genial presence, his blunt, kindly
+speeches, had done Mattie good: he had called her Cinderella,
+and made the fire blaze for her, and had coaxed her in quite a
+brotherly manner to tell him her little troubles and Mattie felt
+very grateful to him.</p>
+<p>So she stared into the fire wistful and happy, while the
+others talked over her head, and quite started when she heard
+her own name.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;We are forgetting Mattie; all this must be so dull for her,&#8221;
+Grace was saying, as she touched her shoulder caressingly.
+&#8220;Come upstairs with me, dear: we can have a chat while we
+get ready for dinner. You must not let your friends make themselves
+so much at home, you extravagant child, for your fire is
+far too large for comfort;&#8221; but Mattie turned away from it reluctantly
+as she followed her sister out of the room.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XLIII_I_WILL_WRITE_NO_SUCH_LETTER' id='CHAPTER_XLIII_I_WILL_WRITE_NO_SUCH_LETTER'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLIII.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;I WILL WRITE NO SUCH LETTER.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>The new year had not opened very auspiciously at Longmead,
+neither had the Christmas festivities been great.</p>
+<p>Dick on his first return home had put on a great appearance
+of cheerfulness, and had carried himself much as usual; but
+Mr. Mayne had been glum, decidedly glum, and Mrs. Mayne
+had found it difficult to adjust the balance of her sympathy between
+Dick&#8217;s voluble quicksilver on the one hand, and her husband&#8217;s
+dead weight of ill humor on the other.</p>
+<p>The truth was, Mr. Mayne&#8217;s sharp eyes had discerned from
+the first moment of his son&#8217;s entrance into the house that there
+was no change in his purpose.</p>
+<p>To an outsider, Dick&#8217;s behavior to his father was as nice as
+possible. He still kept up his old jokes, rallying him on his
+matutinal activity, and saying a word about the &#8220;early worm,&#8221;
+&#8220;so bad for the worm, poor beggar,&#8221; observed Dick. And he
+sauntered after him into the poultry-yard, and had a great deal
+to say about some Spanish fowls that had been lately imported
+into Longmead and that were great sources of pride to Mr.
+Mayne.</p>
+<p>Dick paid a great deal of dutiful attention to his father&#8217;s hobbies:
+he put on his thickest boots every day after luncheon, that
+his father might enjoy the long walks in which he delighted.
+Dick used to sally forth whistling to his dogs when they went
+down Sandy Lane; he was careful to pause where the four roads
+met, that Mr. Mayne might enjoy his favorite view. In all
+these things Dick&#8217;s behavior was perfect. Nevertheless, on their
+return from one of these walks they each had a secret grievance
+to pour into Mrs. Mayne&#8217;s ear.</p>
+<p>Dick&#8217;s turn would come first.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother,&#8221; he would say, as he lounged into the room where
+she sat knitting by the firelight and thinking of her boy&mdash;for
+just now she was heart and soul on Dick&#8217;s side&mdash;and full of
+yearning for the sweet girl whom he wanted for his wife, &#8220;I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span>
+don&#8217;t know how long this sort of thing is going on, but I don&#8217;t
+think I can put up with it much longer.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have you not had a nice walk with your father?&#8221; she asked,
+anxiously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; the walk was well enough. We had some trouble
+with Vigo, though, for he startled a pheasant in Lord Fitzroy&#8217;s
+preserve, and then he bolted after a hare. I had quite a difficulty
+in getting him to heel.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;These walks do your father so much good, Dick.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That is what you always say; but I do not think I can stand
+many more of them. He will talk of everything but the one subject,
+and that he avoids like poison. I shall have to bring him
+to book directly, and then there will be no end of a row. It is
+not the row I mind,&#8221; continued Dick, rather ruefully; &#8220;but I
+hate putting him out and seeing him cut up rough. If he would
+only be sensible and give me my way in this, there is nothing
+I would not do to please him. You must talk to him; you must
+indeed, mother.&#8221; And then Mrs. Mayne, with a sinking heart,
+promised that she would do what she could.</p>
+<p>And after that it would be her husband&#8217;s turn.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I tell you what Bessie; I am not satisfied about that boy,&#8221;
+he remarked, once, as he came in to warm his hands before
+going upstairs to dress for dinner. &#8220;I don&#8217;t know from whom
+he gets his obstinacy,&mdash;not from either of us, I am sure of that,&mdash;but
+his cheerfulness does not deceive me. He means mischief;
+I can see that plainly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Richard! And Dick has been so nice to you ever since
+he came home. Why, he has not once asked to have any of his
+friends down to stay. And before this he was never content
+unless we filled the house. He takes walks with you, and is as
+domesticated and quiet as possible, so different from other
+young fellows, who are always racketing about.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That is just what bothers me,&#8221; returned her husband,
+crossly. &#8220;You have no discernment, Bessie, or you would
+know what I mean. I should not care a straw if Dick were to
+cram the house with young fellows: that sort of larking is just
+natural at his age. Why, he quite pooh-poohed the idea of a
+dinner-party the other night, though I planned it for his pleasure.
+His mind is set on other things, and that is why I say he
+is up to mischief.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Mayne sighed as she smoothed down her satin dress with
+her plump white hands; but she could not gainsay the truth of
+this speech: his father was right,&mdash;Dick&#8217;s mind was set on
+other things.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wish you would let him talk to you,&#8221; she began, timidly,
+remembering her promise. &#8220;Do, my dear; for I am sure Dick
+is very much in earnest.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So am I very much in earnest,&#8221; he returned, wrathfully;
+and his small eyes grew bright and irritable. &#8220;No, it is no use
+your looking at me in that way, Bessie. I am determined not to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span>
+allow that boy to ruin his prospects for life. He will thank me
+one day for being firm; and so will you, though you do turn
+against your own husband.&#8221;</p>
+<p>This was too much for Mrs. Mayne&#8217;s affectionate nature to
+bear.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Richard, how can you talk so? and I have been a good
+wife to you all these years!&#8221; And here the poor woman began
+to sob. &#8220;You might make allowance for a mother&#8217;s feelings;
+he is my boy as well as yours, and I would cut off my right hand
+to make him happy; and I do&mdash;I do think you are very hard
+upon him about Nan.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne stared at her in speechless amazement. Bessie,
+his long-suffering Bessie,&mdash;the wife of his bosom, over whom he
+had a right to tyrannize,&mdash;even she had turned against him, and
+had taken his son&#8217;s part. &#8220;Et tu, Brute!&#8221; he could have said,
+in his bitterness; but his wrath was too great.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I tell you what,&#8221; he said, rising from the seat that was no
+longer restful to him, and pointing his finger at her, &#8220;you and
+your boy together will be the death of me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Richard, how can you be so wicked?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I am wicked, am I? That is a nice wifely speech.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, you are, when you say such things to me!&#8221; she returned,
+plucking up spirit that amazed herself afterwards.
+&#8220;If you do not know when you have a good wife and son, I
+am sorry for you. I say again, I think you are making a grievous
+mistake, Richard. Dick&#8217;s heart is set on the girl; and I don&#8217;t
+wonder at it, a dear pretty creature like that. And if you cross
+him, and set him wrong, you will have to answer to both of
+us for the consequences.&#8221; And then she, too, rose, trembling
+in every limb, and with her comely face very much flushed.
+Even a worm will turn, and Bessie Mayne had for once
+ventured to speak the truth to her husband.</p>
+<p>She had the victory that night, for he was too much dumbfounded
+by her rebellion to indulge in his usual recriminations:
+he had never imagined before that Bessie owned a will
+of her own; but he felt now, with a pang of wounded self-love,
+that the younger Richard had proved a formidable rival.</p>
+<p>His wife&#8217;s heart relented when she saw his moody looks; but
+he would not be reconciled to her, in spite of her coaxing
+speeches.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come Richard,&mdash;come, my dear! you must not be so cross
+with me,&#8221; she said to him later on that night. &#8220;We have been
+married three-and-twenty years, and have never had a serious
+quarrel; and I don&#8217;t like your black looks at me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then you should not anger me by taking that boy&#8217;s part,&#8221;
+was his only answer; and he could not be induced to say anything
+more conciliatory. And the poor woman went to bed
+weeping.</p>
+<p>Things were in this uncomfortable state, when, one morning,
+Dick thrust his head into the study where his father was jotting
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span>
+down some household accounts; for he managed all such minor
+details himself, much to his wife&#8217;s relief.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you particularly busy, father?&mdash;I want to have a talk
+with you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne looked up quickly, and his bushy eyebrows drew
+together.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, yes, I am, Dick,&mdash;most particularly busy just now;&#8221;
+for there was a look on his son&#8217;s face that made him feel disinclined
+for conversation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, very well, then; I can leave it until after luncheon,&#8221;
+was the cheerful response; then Mr. Mayne knew that Dick
+was determined to take the bull by the horns.</p>
+<p>They went out after luncheon, taking the dogs with them,
+and turning their steps in the direction of Sandy Lane. For
+the first mile, Dick said very little; he had his eye on Vigo,
+who seemed to be inclined to bolt. But when they had reached
+the second mile-stone, he cleared his throat; and then Mr.
+Mayne knew that his trouble was beginning.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, father,&#8221; commenced Dick, &#8220;I think it is about
+time we had a little serious talk together about my future plans.
+Of course I want to know if I am to go down next term.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t see that we need discuss that. You will read for
+your degree, of course.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne spoke fast and nervously; but Dick was quite
+cool,&mdash;at least, outwardly so.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is no &#8216;of course&#8217; in the matter. I can only read for
+my degree on one condition.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And what is that, may I ask?&#8221; with rising choler in his voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That you will have Nan down to Longmead, and that you
+and my mother sanction our engagement.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never, sir! never!&#8221; in a vehement tone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Please don&#8217;t excite yourself, father. I think it is I who
+ought to be excited; but, you see, I am quite cool,&mdash;perfectly so.
+I am far too much in earnest to be otherwise. When a man&#8217;s
+future prospects are at stake, and his own father seems determined
+to thwart him, it is time to summon up all one&#8217;s energies.
+I hope you are not serious in what you say,&mdash;that you do absolutely
+refuse to sanction my engagement with Nan?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is no engagement. If there were, I do absolutely
+refuse; nay, more, I am determined actively to oppose it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sorry to find you have not changed your mind; for it
+makes all the difference to me, I assure you. Very well: then
+I must go in for a City life.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you threaten me, sir?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, father, I would not be so undutiful; but it is a pity
+your throwing all that money away on my education if I am not
+to complete it. If I had taken a good degree, I might have
+turned out something; but never mind,&mdash;it can&#8217;t be helped
+now. Then you will be kind enough to write a letter of introduction
+to Stansfield &amp; Stansfield?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;No, sir; I will write no such letter!&#8221; thundered Mr.
+Mayne; and Dick put his hands in his pocket and whistled.
+He felt himself losing patience; but, as he said afterwards, his
+father was in such an awful rage that it was necessary for one
+of them to keep cool. So, as soon as he recovered, he said,
+quite pleasantly,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, if you will not, you will not. We may take a horse
+to the water, but we can&#8217;t make him drink. And the time has
+not come yet for a son to order his own father, though we are
+pretty well advanced now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think we are, Dick.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I confess I am rather disappointed at not getting that letter.
+Mr. Stansfield would have attached some importance to
+it; but I dare say I shall get on with the old boy without it. I
+may as well tell you that I shall accept anything he likes to
+offer me,&mdash;even if it be only a clerkship at eighty pounds a year.
+After all, I am not worse off than you were at my age. You
+began at the bottom of the ladder: so I need not grumble.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean to say,&#8221; demanded his father, in a tone of
+grief, &#8220;that you really intend to throw me over, and not only
+me, but all your advantages, your prospects in life, for the sake
+of this girl?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think it is you who are throwing me over,&#8221; returned his
+son, candidly. &#8220;Put yourself in my place. When you were a
+young man, father, would you have given up my mother, if my
+grandfather had wished you to do so?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The cases are different,&mdash;altogether different,&#8221; was the
+angry response. &#8220;I never would have married a dressmaker.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There are dressmakers and dressmakers: but at least my
+<i>fiancee</i> is a gentlewoman,&#8221; returned his son, hotly.</p>
+<p>Dick meant nothing by this speech more than his words implied:
+he was far too good-natured for an <i>arriere-pensee</i>. But
+his father chose to consider himself insulted.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You insolent young fellow!&#8221; he exclaimed, fuming. &#8220;Do
+you mean your mother was not as good as Miss Nancy, any
+day? I never did believe in those Challoners,&mdash;never, in spite
+of the mother&#8217;s airs. I tell you what, Dick, you are treating me
+shamefully; after all the money I have wasted on you, to turn
+round on me in this way and talk about the City. I wash my
+hands of you, sir. I will have nothing to do with introductions:
+you may go your way, but you will never see a penny of my
+money.&#8221; And he walked on with a very black look indeed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;All right,&#8221; returned Dick. But he was not quite so cool
+now. &#8220;Thank you for all you have done for me, and for letting
+me know your future intentions. I am thinking it is a good
+thing Nan has learned her business, for, as we shall be tolerably
+poor, it will be handy for her to make her own gowns.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well, Dick.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall go up to Mr. Stansfield to-morrow; and the day
+after I suppose I had better write to the Dean. You may not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span>
+believe me, father,&#8221;&mdash;and here Dick&#8217;s lip quivered for the first
+time,&mdash;&#8220;but I am awfully sorry to cross you in this way; but
+my heart is so set on Nan that I could not possibly bring myself
+to live without her.&#8221; But to this Mr. Mayne made no reply,
+and they walked the remainder of the way in silence.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Mayne&#8217;s heart grew sick with apprehension when she
+saw their faces at dinner.</p>
+<p>Dick looked decidedly cross. To do him justice, the poor
+fellow was thoroughly miserable; but his aspect was cheerful
+compared to that of her husband.</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne would not speak; neither would he eat. And
+even the footman, who took away the untasted viands, looked
+at his master with fear and trembling, his countenance was so
+gloomy.</p>
+<p>Dick did not seem to notice his father&#8217;s failure of appetite;
+but Mrs. Mayne was one of those women who are given to fancy
+that if a man refuse his dinner there is something serious the
+matter with him. And as the meal proceeded she cast piteous
+looks at her son, but Dick totally ignored them.</p>
+<p>As soon as the servants had handed round the fruit, and had
+left the room, Mr. Mayne rose from the table, leaving his claret
+untasted, and shut himself into the library, first banging the
+door behind him, a sound that made his wife&#8217;s heart palpitate.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Dick, what was happened to your father?&#8221; she asked,
+turning to her boy for comfort. But Dick was unusually
+sulky, and refused to answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You had better ask him, mother, if you are anxious to
+know,&#8221; he replied, in a voice he very seldom used to her. &#8220;As
+for me, I am so sick of the whole thing, and feel myself so
+badly used, that I would rather not open my lips on the subject.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then Mrs. Mayne sighed, for she knew Dick had one of his
+obstinate fits on him, and that there would be no further word
+spoken by him that night.</p>
+<p>Poor woman! She knew it was her duty to go into the library
+and speak a word of comfort to her husband. It might be
+that Dick had been contumacious, and had angered his father,
+and it might be her task to pour in the balm of sympathy.
+Even if he had been hard on her boy, she must not forget that
+he was her husband.</p>
+<p>But as she opened the door she forgot her doubts in a moment.
+Mr. Mayne&#8217;s face was so pale, despite its blackness, that she was
+moved to instant pity.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Richard, what is it?&#8221; she said, hurrying to him,
+&#8220;My dear, you must not take it to heart in this way.&#8221; And
+she took his forehead between her hands and kissed it with the
+old tenderness she had once felt for him, when they, too, had
+lived and worked for each other, and there was no Master Dick
+to plague them and rule over his mother&#8217;s heart.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bessie, that boy will be the death of me,&#8221; he groaned.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span>
+But, notwithstanding the despondency of these words, the comfort
+of his wife&#8217;s presence was visibly felt, and by and by he
+suffered her to coax the truth from him.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XLIV_MR_MAYNE_ORDERS_A_BASIN_OF_GRUEL' id='CHAPTER_XLIV_MR_MAYNE_ORDERS_A_BASIN_OF_GRUEL'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLIV.</h2>
+<h3>MR. MAYNE ORDERS A BASIN OF GRUEL.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>On the following morning Mr. Mayne did open his lips to
+address a word to his son:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall be obliged to you, Dick, if you will postpone your
+intended visit to town, for this day at least;&#8221; for Dick had an
+&#8220;ABC&#8221; beside him, and was picking out a fast train while he
+ate his breakfast.</p>
+<p>&#8220;All right,&#8221; replied Dick: &#8220;I can wait another four-and-twenty
+hours.&#8221; But though he yielded the point graciously
+enough, he did not look at his father, or say anything more on
+the subject; and as soon as his appetite was satisfied, he took up
+the &#8220;Times,&#8221; and lounged into his den. Shortly afterwards
+they heard him whistling to his dogs, and knew that he would
+not appear until luncheon.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Mayne wished that her husband would follow his example;
+but he had put on his slippers, and showed no inclination
+to leave the fireside. He read his paper and dozed a good
+deal, and snapped up Bessie if she spoke to him: so, on the
+whole, Mrs. Mayne had rather a dull morning. When the luncheon-bell
+rang, he chose to put on invalid airs, and ordered a
+basin of gruel to be brought to him in the library. Mrs. Mayne
+who knew he was not ill, and that his indisposition was purely
+mental and imaginary, was yet wise enough to fall in with his
+whim.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your master would like his gruel nicely flavored, James,&#8221;
+she said to the footman. &#8220;Please ask Mrs. Simpkins to prepare
+it in the way he likes.&#8221; And then she placed his favorite little
+table beside him, and stirred the fire into a more cheerful blaze.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your father does not feel himself well enough to come in
+to luncheon, Dick,&#8221; she said to her son, probably for the benefit
+of the servant, who was waiting to remove the covers; and
+Dick, for the same reason, testified a proper amount of sympathy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He takes too long walks for a man of his age,&#8221; he said,
+applying himself vigorously to the dismemberment of a chicken.
+&#8220;Mother, I will trouble you for some of that game-pie.&#8221; And
+then he told her another anecdote about Vigo.</p>
+<p>After luncheon Dick again disappeared, and Mrs. Mayne,
+who dreaded an afternoon&#8217;s <i>tete-a-tete</i> with her husband in his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span>
+present mood, went up to her own room, for some feminine
+business, or to take a nap. Mr. Mayne, a little mollified by
+the gruel, which had been flavored exactly to his liking with a
+<i>soupcon</i> of rum, was just composing himself for another doze,
+when he was roused by the loud pealing of the hall bell, and
+the next moment the door was flung open by James, and Sir
+Henry Challoner was announced.</p>
+<p>It was a dark wintry afternoon, and the library was somewhat
+sombre: the fire had died down, owing to Mr. Mayne&#8217;s
+drowsiness. In the dim light Sir Harry&#8217;s big burly figure
+looked almost gigantic. Mr. Mayne, with his little lean shoulders
+and sharp face, looked beside him much as a small gray-hound
+would beside a mastiff.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How do you do?&#8221; began Sir Harry, in his loud voice. &#8220;I
+must apologize for my intrusion; but I think my name is well
+known to you, and needs no introduction. I have often heard
+of Mr. Mayne, I can assure you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You do me too much honor,&#8221; returned that gentleman,
+stiffly; and he glanced at the card in his hand. There it was,
+&#8220;Sir Henry Challoner.&#8221; &#8220;But what the&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; And here his
+favorite expletive rose to his lips.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We can scarcely see each other&#8217;s faces,&#8221; observed Sir Harry,
+cheerfully. &#8220;Will you allow me to take the liberty, though I
+have not known you for seven years&mdash;and hardly for seven
+minutes!&#8221; And then he seized the poker, and broke up an
+obstinate piece of coal.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Actually, in my own house, and before my own eyes,&#8221; as
+Mr. Mayne told his wife afterwards.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, now! I have made a glorious blaze. These are first-rate
+coals. Now we can have our talk comfortably together.
+You do not know me personally; but I dare say you have heard
+of my father,&mdash;Sir Francis Challoner? Poor old fellow! I am
+afraid too many people heard of him in his time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, sir: but, as it is hardly becoming of me to say to his
+son, I have never heard much good of him. If I remember
+rightly, he did poor Challoner a bad turn once.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hush, my good friend!&#8221; And Sir Harry&#8217;s ruddy face
+looked a little disturbed. &#8220;I thought no one but myself and
+Aunt Catherine knew that story. It is rather hard on a man
+to have this sort of things brought up. And the poor old governor
+is dead now: so, if you will permit me to observe, bygones
+had better be bygones on that subject.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, by all means, Sir Harry; but you introduced the
+matter yourself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Excuse me, Mr. Mayne,&#8221; rather haughtily, &#8220;I introduced
+myself. I am the son of Sir Francis. Well, if you know so
+much, you will understand the sort of interest I take in my
+cousins and how I consider it my duty to make up to them for
+what they have lost.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very proper, I am sure.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;As to that, duty is a pleasure. They are such awfully jolly
+girls, and so uncommonly plucky, that I am as proud of them
+as though they were my own sisters. Nan is so confoundedly
+pretty, too. I don&#8217;t wonder at your son&#8217;s taste. He must be a
+lucky fellow who gets Nan.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sir!&#8221; vociferated Mr. Mayne; and Sir Harry immediately
+changed his tactics:</p>
+<p>&#8220;That is a tidy place opposite you,&mdash;Gilsbank, I mean. I
+have been over there settling about the purchase. I am afraid
+Crauford is rather a screw: he wanted to drive too close a
+bargain. But I said, &#8216;No; you shall have your money down,
+right and tight, but not a farthing over.&#8217; And I insisted on my
+right to change the name if I like. I have half a mind to call it
+&#8216;Challoner Place.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne was wide awake now; his astonishment knew no
+bounds.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are going to buy Gilsbank!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have bought it,&#8221; was the cool response; &#8220;and I am now
+in treaty for Glen Cottage. My aunt has a fancy for her old
+home; and, though it is not much of a place, it is big enough
+for her and the girls; and Ibbetson has done a good deal to
+improve it. You look surprised, Mr. Mayne; but I suppose a
+man must live somewhere!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course it is none of my business; but I thought Sir
+Francis was as poor as a church mouse. Mrs. Challoner was
+my informant; and she always led me to suppose so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She was perfectly right. The poor old man never could
+keep money in his pocket: it always seemed to slip through his
+fingers. But that is not my case. I have been a lucky fellow
+all my life. I roughed it a bit in the colonies at first; but it
+did me no harm. And then we made a splendid hit out in Sydney,&mdash;coined
+money, in fact. I would not like to tell you what
+I made in one year: it seems blowing one&#8217;s trumpet, somehow.
+But I soon got sick of making it; and here I am, with a tidy
+fortune,&mdash;plenty for myself, and enough to set up my aunt and
+the girls comfortably without feeling the loss. And now, Mr.
+Mayne when they are back at Glen Cottage, I want to know
+what you will do about your son.&#8221;</p>
+<p>To do Mr Mayne justice, he was far too perplexed to answer
+off-hand; in fact, he was almost rendered dumb by excessive
+astonishment. To borrow his own forcible expression, used to
+his wife afterwards, &#8220;he hardly knew where he was, things
+were so topsy-turvy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>In the old days, before Dick had produced that wonderful
+moustache that was so long in growing, Mr. Mayne had been
+very partial to his neighbors at Glen Cottage. It is always
+pleasant to a man to patronize and befriend a pretty woman;
+and Mrs. Challoner was an exceedingly pretty woman. It was
+quite an occupation to a busy man like the master of Longmead
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span>
+to superintend their garden and give his advice on all subjects
+that belong to a man&#8217;s province.</p>
+<p>But for the last year, since Dick had so greatly developed in
+mental culture, his father had been growing very weary even
+of the name of Challoner; it had become a habit with him to
+decry them on every possible occasion. &#8220;What is in a name?&#8221;
+he would say, when some person would lament the dead-and-gone
+glories of Challoner Place. &#8220;There is not a soul belonging
+to them, except that disreputable Sir Francis; and he is as
+good as a beggar.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But since Glen Cottage had given way to the Friary, and the
+dressmaking scheme had been carried out, his opposition had
+become perfectly frantic: he could have sworn at Dick for his
+senselessness, his want of pride, his lamentable deficiency in
+ambition. &#8220;Never, as long as my name is Richard Mayne, will
+I give in to that boy,&#8221; he had vowed inwardly.</p>
+<p>And now there had suddenly started up, like a piece of gilded
+clap-trap, this amazing man of inches, calling himself their
+cousin, Sir Henry Challoner; a man who was absolutely tired
+of making money,&mdash;who called Gilsbank, a far finer house
+than Longmead, a tidy little place, and who could throw in
+Glen Cottage, that bijou residence, as a sort of dower-house for
+widowed Challoners; a man who would soon be talked about in
+Hadleigh, not because he was rich,&mdash;most of the Hadleigh families
+were rich,&mdash;but because he was restoring an ancient name
+to something of its old respectability.</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne was essentially a shrewd, far-sighted man. Like
+other self-made men, he attached great importance to good
+blood. In a moment he realized that Nan Challoner of the
+Friary was a very different person from Nan Challoner of Glen
+Cottage, the cousin of Sir Henry Challoner. Under the latter
+circumstances she would be received on equal terms at Fitzroy
+Lodge and at the other houses of the aristocracy. In marrying
+her, Dick would be at once on an intimate footing with those
+very people who only just tolerated his father.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; observed Sir Harry, after a lengthy pause, &#8220;what
+do you say about the matter, eh? Though I have accumulated
+a pretty sum of money, I do not pretend to be a millionaire; and
+of course, as I may settle down some day and have a family of
+my own, I must not treat my cousins as though they were my
+sisters. I think of allowing my aunt a sufficient income during
+her lifetime to keep up Glen Cottage, and I do not mind paying
+the girls three thousand pounds down on their wedding-day just
+for pin-money; but more than that cannot be expected of me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course not,&#8221; returned Mr. Mayne; and then he hesitated.
+Three thousand pounds was not much of a fortune. Why, the
+girl he wanted for Dick had fifteen thousand, at least; but then
+Dick would not look at her; and even three thousand was better
+than nothing. &#8220;I had hoped better things for my son,&#8221; he
+went on, stiffly. &#8220;I always meant Dick to marry money.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, true, money is very good in its way; but then, you see,
+young fellows are not always to be coerced. I believe there is a
+very strong attachment between your son and my cousin Nan.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It has cost me a great deal of vexation,&#8221; replied Mr. Mayne
+very testily,&mdash;all the more that his resolution was wavering.
+&#8220;I do not wish to hurt your feelings, Sir Henry, but this confounded
+dressmaking of theirs&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; But here Sir Harry
+stopped him by a most extraordinary facial contraction, which
+most certainly resembled a wink.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hush!&#8221; he exclaimed, in a very loud whisper. &#8220;It does
+not matter to me, of course; but if I were you, I would not
+mention this little fact to any one else. Girls are girls, and they
+will have their fling. A good steady husband, that is what they
+want, the best of them, to sober them when the right time comes.
+I mean to put a stop to this nonsense; but after all, a little bit
+of larking like that with a lot of high-spirited generous creatures,
+what does it matter in the long run? You just settle
+things with me off-hand, and I will come to terms with the
+young ladies. I am the head of the family, as they know.&#8221;
+And Sir Harry threw out his big chest with a sudden movement
+of importance and pride. &#8220;I am the head of the family: they
+will be pleased to remember that,&#8221; he repeated pompously.</p>
+<p>It was just at this moment, when victory lay within his
+grasp, that Dick sauntered lazily into the room.</p>
+<p>Dick was in an execrable humor: he was tired and worried,
+and his boots were muddy. And what was the use of being
+still contumacious, unless his obstinacy were to be a spectacle to
+men and gods,&mdash;unless he were to flaunt his ill humor in the
+face of his tyrant, and make his father&#8217;s soul wretched within
+him? Such is youthful reasoning, that hates to veil its feelings
+unobserved.</p>
+<p>Dick had not perceived Sir Harry&#8217;s card, so he stared at the
+intruder a little coolly. Sir Harry returned his look with a
+glance of mingled surprise and amusement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is this the young gentleman in question?&#8221; he asked, in a
+tone that roused Dick&#8217;s ire. To tell the truth, he was a little
+disappointed by Nan&#8217;s choice. It was not so much Dick&#8217;s want
+of good looks, but in Sir Harry eyes he appeared somewhat insignificant;
+and then a scowl is not always becoming to a face.
+Dick&#8217;s bright genial expression was wanting; he looked a little
+too like his father at this moment for Sir Harry&#8217;s taste.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean me?&#8221; observed Dick, in a magnificent tone.
+&#8220;Is it I who am the young gentleman in question?&mdash;Father,
+will you have the goodness to introduce me to this gentleman
+with whom you have been talking me over?&#8221; And Dick twirled
+his moustache angrily.</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne looked at his son&#8217;s moody face, and his feelings
+underwent a sudden revulsion; but before he could speak Sir
+Harry stepped in nimbly before him:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well now, I like spirit&mdash;no one cares to be talked about behind
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326' name='page_326'></a>326</span>
+one&#8217;s back. Supposing we shake hands, you and I, as we
+are to be so nearly related. I am Nan&#8217;s guardian, her next of
+kin,&mdash;Sir Harry Challoner, at your service; and Nan sends her
+love and you are a lucky fellow, that is what you are!&#8221; exclaimed
+Sir Harry, genially, as he struck Dick a sounding blow
+on his shoulder. But Dick did not wince; and, though the
+diamond ring cut into his hand as they exchanged that grasp,
+no expression of pain crossed his face, which became all at once
+quite radiant.</p>
+<p>Sir Harry hailed the metamorphosis with delight. Here
+was the real Dick emerging like a young sun-god from the
+clouds.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come, that is first-rate; I like the look of you better now,&#8221;
+he said, with an appreciative nod.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Father, what does this mean?&#8221; faltered Dick.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It means,&#8221; growled Mr. Mayne, for he could not get quite
+amiable all at once, though his heart was lightening in his bosom,
+&#8220;it means that I am an old fool, Dick, and that you are a
+young one.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, father,&mdash;not really,&mdash;does it?&#8221; And Dick beamed still
+more.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And it means that you are not to plague me any more about
+the City. But there! though you have behaved so badly to me,
+Dick, I forgive you. Sir Harry and I have been talking over
+things, and if you will work hard for your degree your mother
+shall ask the girl down here, and we will see about it, and that is
+all I can say at present. And so we may as well shake hands
+upon it too.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But Dick did more than that; he threw his arm over his
+father&#8217;s shoulder with a movement that was almost caressing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, pater; you are a brick and no mistake!&#8221; was
+all the undemonstrative Briton&#8217;s tongue could say. But Mr.
+Mayne, as he looked in his boy&#8217;s face and felt that pressure on
+his shoulder, thought them sufficiently eloquent.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There! get along with you, and have it out with your
+mother,&#8221; he growled. But, in spite of his surly tone, Mr.
+Mayne felt an amount of relief that astonished himself: to
+see Dick&#8217;s face happy again, to have no cloud between them,
+to know that no domestic discord would harass his soul and
+render gruel necessary to his well-being, was restoring him to
+his old self again. Sir Harry longed to throw back his head
+and indulge in a good laugh as he witnessed this little scene of
+reconciliation.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Mayne, who was sitting somewhat sadly by her own
+fireside, thinking over that day&#8217;s discomfort, was quite taken
+aback by hearing Dick coming upstairs in his old way&mdash;three
+steps at a time&mdash;and then bursting into the room after a hasty
+knock at the door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother,&#8221; he cried, breathlessly, &#8220;Sir Harry Challoner is in
+the library&mdash;and pater wants you to come down and give them
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327' name='page_327'></a>327</span>
+some tea&mdash;and Sir Henry is going to stop to dinner&mdash;and the
+woodcock is to be cooked&mdash;and you are to get the best room
+ready. But first of all&mdash;like the dear, darling mother you are&mdash;you
+are to sit down and write a letter to Nan.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But the letter was not written then; for how could Bessie
+keep her husband and his guest waiting for their tea after such
+an urgent message? And had she not first of all to listen to
+Dick&#8217;s incoherent story, which she heard better from Sir Harry
+afterwards, who took great pains to explain it to the poor bewildered
+woman?</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne thought he had never seen Bessie look so handsome
+since the days he courted her, as she sat smiling at the
+head of the table in her velvet gown. And Sir Harry, too, was
+quite charmed with the soft, comely creature.</p>
+<p>Later on, while the two elder gentlemen were chatting confidentially
+over their cigars and whisky-and-water, she did
+manage to write a few lines to Nan. But it was not much of a
+letter; for how was she to construct a decent sentence with that
+torment Dick hanging over the back of her chair and interrupting
+her every moment? But Nan was not ill pleased by the
+missive when she received it.</p>
+<hr class='p30' />
+<p>&#8220;My own dear girl,&#8221; it said,&mdash;&#8220;my dearest girl,&mdash;for no
+daughter could ever be so dear to me as you will be, Nan, for
+my boy&#8217;s sake, and because he loves you so.&#8221; (&#8220;You are right
+there, mother!&#8221; struck in Dick, in a tone of ecstasy.) &#8220;Everything
+has come right, through Sir Henry&#8217;s intercession and my
+Richard&#8217;s goodness.&#8221; (&#8220;Humph!&#8221; coughed Dick. &#8220;Well, it is
+not for the like of me to contradict you.&#8221;)</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are to come to us&mdash;at once&mdash;at once,&#8221;&mdash;underlined,&mdash;&#8220;for
+Dick will be going back to Oxford, so there is no time to
+lose; and you have not got any good of your engagement
+yet.&#8221; (&#8220;Only just at that last moment,&#8221; muttered her son at
+this.)</p>
+<p>&#8220;My precious boy looks so happy that I could cry with joy
+to see him.&#8221; (&#8220;Oh, shut up, mother! Nan knows all that.&#8221;)
+&#8220;And his dear father looks as pleased as possible, and he sends
+his love.&#8221; (&#8220;He did indeed, Dick,&#8221; as an incredulous sound
+broke from his lips), &#8220;and he says bygones are bygones. And
+you are on no account to feel yourself awkward as regards him,
+for of course Dick&#8217;s <i>fiancee</i>&#8221; (&#8220;Are you sure that is spelt
+right, Dick?&#8221;) &#8220;will bring her own welcome. Is not that a
+sweet speech for my Richard to say? So you will come, my
+dear, will you not? And I remain, just what I always was, my
+Nan&#8217;s loving friend,</p>
+<p style='margin-left:0.0em; margin-right:0.0em; text-align:right'>&#8220;<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Bessie Mayne.</span>&#8221;<br /></p>
+<hr class='p30' />
+<p>And then the letter was carefully consigned to Dick&#8217;s pocket,
+and in due course of time was delivered into Nan&#8217;s fair hands.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328' name='page_328'></a>328</span></p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XLV_AN_UNINVITED_GUEST' id='CHAPTER_XLV_AN_UNINVITED_GUEST'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLV.</h2>
+<h3>AN UNINVITED GUEST.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>During the next few days Grace and Phillis made great
+strides towards intimacy; and, as though some magnetic influence
+attracted each to each, they were to be found constantly
+together. Neither of them was a girl to indulge in gushing
+sentimentality; but Grace, whose refined intellectual nature
+had hitherto met with no response except from her brother,
+perceived at once Phillis&#8217;s innate superiority and clear generous
+temperament. For the first time she felt feminine friendship a
+possibility, and hailed it as a new-found joy. Nan testified her
+pleasure on more than one occasion: jealousy never found a
+resting-place in a corner of her heart.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am so glad, Phillis,&#8221; she observed, once, &#8220;that you and
+Grace Drummond like each other so much. You have never
+found any girl equal to you yet; and I was always too stupid
+to give you what you wanted.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Nannie, as though I would change you for a dozen
+Grace Drummonds!&#8221; returned Phillis, stanch as ever to her
+domestic creed, that there never was and never could be such
+another as Nan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, of course we shall always be the same to each other,
+you and I,&#8221; returned Nan, seriously, &#8220;we are such old comrades,
+Phil; but then I have Dick, and it is only fair you should
+have some one too;&#8221; but she did not understand why Phillis
+suddenly sighed and turned away.</p>
+<p>An amusing little incident happened to Phillis after this,
+which she greatly enjoyed. Colonel Middleton&#8217;s avoidance of
+them had long been a sore point with her, as it was with Dulce.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I feel almost like that wicked Haman,&#8221; she said, once, in a
+serio-comic voice, &#8220;and as if he were my Mordecai. I shall
+never think we have achieved perfect success until I have
+forced him to shake hands with me.&#8221; But Nan, who cared
+very little about such things, only laughed.</p>
+<p>On Sunday morning Colonel Middleton marched up the aisle
+rather more pompously than usual, and there followed him a
+tall, very solemn-faced young man, with serious eyes that reminded
+them of Elizabeth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Son Hammond,&#8221; whispered Phillis, who was not always as
+devout as she ought to be; and Dulce tried hard to compose
+her dimples.</p>
+<p>Possibly the young officer was not as solemn as his looks, for
+he certainly paid more attention to the opposite pew than he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329' name='page_329'></a>329</span>
+did to his prayer-book; and as he walked home with his sister,
+Colonel Middleton being just then out of earshot, he questioned
+her rather closely on the subject:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who were those girls, Elizabeth? I mean the three who
+were just opposite us with their mother. Are they visitors or
+residents?&#8221; Then Elizabeth told him very briefly their name
+and occupation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good gracious!&#8221; he returned, in a thunderstruck tone;
+and then all at once he burst out laughing, as though at a good
+joke:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I call that a piece of splendid pluck. Do you know, I could
+see in a moment there was something out of the common about
+them? They are all very pretty,&mdash;at least good-looking,&mdash;and
+I liked their quiet style of dress. You must introduce me to-morrow.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear Hammond, I can do nothing of the kind,&#8221; returned
+Elizabeth, glancing round in an alarmed way. &#8220;Father has
+refused to have them at Brooklyn; and it will annoy him terribly
+if you were to take any notice of them.&#8221; But to this Hammond
+turned a deaf ear, and, though he forbore to question her
+any further on that occasion, he had fully made up his mind
+that the introduction should take place as soon as possible.</p>
+<p>As it fell out, accident favored him the very next day; for,
+as he was calling with his sister, at the White House, who
+should be announced the next minute but the Misses Challoner,&mdash;Phillis
+and Dulce, who had been bidden to afternoon tea!</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cheyne kissed and welcomed them both. Then Captain
+Middleton was introduced; and they were soon chatting
+merrily together, to Elizabeth&#8217;s secret amusement.</p>
+<p>Captain Middleton made himself very agreeable to the two
+girls, as Dulce observed afterwards. She had never before
+been so deceived in a man&#8217;s appearance,&mdash;for he was not solemn
+at all; and, though the serious brown eyes certainly inspected
+them rather critically from time to time, he proved himself a
+bright amusing companion, and fully bore out his father&#8217;s and
+sister&#8217;s encomiums.</p>
+<p>The Middletons were easily induced to prolong their visit.
+Elizabeth felt herself a traitor to her father; but she could not
+refuse Hammond&#8217;s imploring glance. And so they stayed, and
+all took their leave together.</p>
+<p>Mr. Cheyne walked down to the gate with them. He had an
+errand in the town; and he and Elizabeth walked behind the
+young people, talking them over in a low voice.</p>
+<p>Now, it so happened that Colonel Middleton was trudging
+down the Braidwood Road; and as he neared the White House
+he looked up, and there was his son walking contentedly with
+a Challoner girl on each side of him, and the three were laughing
+merrily.</p>
+<p>It was Dulce who saw him first.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There comes your father!&#8221; she said; and she began to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330' name='page_330'></a>330</span>
+blush as she had done on the day when he had left her at the
+gate of Brooklyn, talking to Elizabeth.</p>
+<p>Hammond proved himself quite worthy of the occasion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well met, father,&#8221; he called out, cheerily, &#8220;We seem all
+going one way. I suppose no one needs any introduction? Of
+course you know my father, Miss Challoner?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then the colonel threw down his arms. He had fought very
+bravely on his son&#8217;s behalf; but, after all his labors, his bristling
+defences and skilful retreats, Hammond had of his own free
+will delivered himself into the hands of the Philistines. What
+was the use of guarding an empty citadel?&mdash;his treasure was
+already in the enemy&#8217;s grasp.</p>
+<p>All this was written on the colonel&#8217;s lugubrious face as he
+bowed stiffly and walked in sorrowful silence beside them, shaking
+his white head at intervals; but no one but Dulce took any
+notice of his sombre mood.</p>
+<p>Dulce was very timid by nature. She was the least outspoken
+of the three, and always kept in the background, like a modest
+little flower that loved the shade; but she was very soft-hearted,
+and had great regard for people&#8217;s feelings. And the old man&#8217;s
+downcast looks pained her; for how was she to know that he
+was secretly pleased at this meeting?</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hope&mdash;I wish&mdash;you did not mind knowing us so much.
+But it has not been our fault this afternoon,&#8221; sighed Dulce,
+stammering and blushing over her words. &#8220;You will believe
+that, will you not, Colonel Middleton?&#8221;</p>
+<p>If a cannon shot had been fired into the old warrior&#8217;s ear, he
+could hardly have started more than he did at these childish
+words. He looked round. There was the little girl, looking up
+at him with the innocent eyes he remembered so well, and her
+mouth puckered a little as though she wanted to cry.</p>
+<p>This was more than any man could bear, even if he had a
+harder heart than Colonel Middleton.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear,&#8221; he said, taking the little hand, &#8220;I have always
+wanted to know you; Elizabeth will tell you that. I lost my
+heart to your sisters the first day I saw them. I am sure we
+shall be good friends in time, if you will forgive an old man&#8217;s
+pride.&#8221; And then he patted her hand as though she had been
+an infant.</p>
+<p>When Mr. Drummond sat down to dinner that evening, he
+astonished Mattie very much by saying,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You can ask the Middletons, after all, for your tea-party,
+if you like, Mattie. What wonderful sight do you think I saw
+just now? Why, the colonel himself coming out from the
+Friary, and all the three girls were round him, chattering as
+though they had known him all their life; and I am pretty sure
+that in spite of the dark, I saw &#8216;son Hammond&#8217; behind him.&#8221;
+And Mattie, glad of the permission, gave the invitation the next
+day.</p>
+<p>Mattie grew a little alarmed as the evening approached. It
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331' name='page_331'></a>331</span>
+was her first party and she knew Archie would be critical; but
+Grace proved herself a useful ally.</p>
+<p>In spite of her efforts to keep in the background and leave
+Mattie in her position as mistress of her brother&#8217;s house, she
+felt herself becoming insensibly its presiding spirit.</p>
+<p>Archie was tolerably good-natured to Mattie; but the habits
+of a lifetime were too strong for him, and he still snubbed and
+repressed her at intervals. Mattie felt herself of no importance
+now that Grace had come: her duties were usurped before her
+eyes. Archie made a fresh demand on her forbearance every
+day.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why cannot you keep to the housekeeping, and let Grace
+do the schools and visitings?&#8221; he said, once. &#8220;It must come
+to her by and by, when you are gone; and I want her to begin
+as soon as possible. It will not do to let her think she has
+come too soon,&#8221; implying that good taste should lead Mattie to
+resign of her own account.</p>
+<p>Poor Mattie! she had many a good cry in secret before that
+Tuesday. She could hardly help feeling pained to see how all-in-all
+those two were to each other, and the glad eagerness
+Grace threw into her work, knowing the reward of commendation
+she would reap. &#8220;It must be so strange never to be
+snubbed or scolded,&mdash;to do everything right,&#8221; Mattie thought.</p>
+<p>Grace felt very sorry for her, and petted her a good deal.
+The dark little face had always a pained wistfulness on it now
+that touched her. She spoke kindly of Mattie to her brother on
+all possible occasions.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think Mattie is so generous in giving up to me as she
+does,&#8221; she observed, as Archie joined her in the drawing-room
+in expectation of their guests. Mattie had not yet made her
+appearance. She had been lighting the wax candles and trimming
+a refractory lamp that refused to burn, and had just run
+past her brother with blackened fingers and hot, tired face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, she is good enough,&#8221; he returned, indifferently, as
+he straightened a crooked candle; &#8220;but I wish she would not
+always be late. She has not begun to dress, and it is the time
+we appointed for the Challoners to come. Of all things I hate
+unpunctuality and fuss, and Mattie is always so fussy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Grace&#8217;s conscience pricked her. &#8220;I am afraid I left her too
+much to do,&#8221; she said, penitently. &#8220;Phillis asked me to go for
+a walk with them; but I ought not to have left her. I will go
+and help her now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But Archie objected:</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, no; let her be. You must not leave me alone to receive
+them. How nice you look in that cream-colored dress,
+Grace! I thought it would suit you.&#8221; But, though his eyes
+rested on her as he spoke, he seemed rather absent. And when
+the door-bell rang a moment afterwards, a sudden flush came
+to his face.</p>
+<p>It was very odd to feel that he was receiving Nan as his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332' name='page_332'></a>332</span>
+guest. He had dreaded the ordeal greatly, but after the first
+moment it was not so bad. Grace, who had her suspicions and
+watched them closely, had them verified without doubt during
+the moment that followed the Challoners&#8217; entrance; but no
+other eyes but hers would have read anything amiss in the
+young vicar&#8217;s gravely composed face.</p>
+<p>Nan, who was looking beautiful, met him with her usual unconsciousness:
+though neither of them knew it, it was this very
+unconsciousness that was fast healing the wound. One cannot
+mourn long after a lost dream, and there had never been any
+reality in it. Not one of Nan&#8217;s thoughts had ever belonged to
+him for a moment: his existence, his individuality had never
+grazed the outer edge of her susceptibilities. Dick had encased
+her from childhood in armor of proof against all manhood.
+Archie felt this even as he touched her hand, and his lips gave
+her welcome.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am so sorry your mother could not come,&#8221; he said, politely.
+And then he turned to Phillis, who was regarding him with an
+odd, dubious look.</p>
+<p>Archie felt the look, and his spirit rose in instant opposition.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you know the Middletons are to be here, after all?&#8221; he
+said, moving a little into the background, for this girl had keen
+vision, and, as of old, her sympathy moved him strangely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, then we shall be quite a party,&#8221; she returned, brightly.
+&#8220;It seems ages since we have been at one, and I feel disposed to
+enjoy myself. The very sight of wax candles is exhilarating.
+I am half afraid to touch coffee, for fear it will get into my
+head. And how sweet Grace looks in that dress!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your <i>chef-d&#8217;&oelig;uvre</i>!&#8221; he replied, rather wickedly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, I recognize my handiwork,&#8221; returned Phillis, nonchalantly.
+&#8220;I am quite as proud of it as an artist would be of
+a picture. Here comes Mattie; poor little thing! she seems
+tired, but she looks nice, too.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Archie moved away after this, for the Middletons were announced;
+but he thought as he left her that he had never seen
+her look so handsome. Nan&#8217;s beauty had so blinded him that
+he had hardly been aware what a charming face Phillis really
+had: when she was pleased or excited she lighted up quite
+radiantly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear!&#8221; exclaimed Mattie, fussily coming up at that
+moment. &#8220;I don&#8217;t know what has become of your cousin;
+but Captain Middleton says all the trains have been snowed up.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If the train he is in has been snowed up, of course we must
+not expect to see him this evening,&#8221; was Phillis&#8217;s laughing reply.
+&#8220;Never mind; I dare say we shall all survive it; though
+Harry is such a good fellow, and I am immensely fond of him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, but the tea and coffee will be spoiled. I must go and
+pour it out now. Look, Grace is making signs to me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Shall I come and help you?&#8221; was the ready response.
+&#8220;What a pretty little tea-table, Mattie, and how charmingly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333' name='page_333'></a>333</span>
+snug it looks in the bay-window! The gentlemen will wait on
+us, of course. I like this way better than servants handing
+round lukewarm cups from the kitchen: it is not so grand, but
+it is cosier. Was it your arrangement, Mattie?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes,&#8221; returned Mattie, in a disconsolate tone, as she
+took her place. &#8220;But, Phillis, are you really not anxious
+about your cousin? It is so dreadful to think of him snowed
+up all night, with nothing to eat and drink!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phillis laughed outright at this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My imagination will not conjure up such horrors. I believe
+Harry is at this moment sitting in the hotel discussing a good
+dinner before a blazing fire.&#8221; And, as Mattie looked injured
+at this, she continued, still more merrily: &#8220;My dear, are you
+such an ignoramus as to believe that any amount of wax candles
+and charming women will induce an Englishman to forego his
+dinner? He will come by and by; and if he gets cold coffee,
+he will have his deserts.&#8221; And then Mattie&#8217;s anxious face grew
+more cheerful.</p>
+<p>The tea-table became the nucleus of the whole room before
+long. Even Mr. Frere, a tall scholarly-looking man, with spectacles
+and a very bald head, though he was still young, seemed
+drawn magnetically into the circle that closed round Phillis.
+The girl was so natural and sprightly, there was such buoyancy
+and brightness in her manner; and yet no man could ever have
+taken a liberty with her, or mistaken the source of that pure
+rippling fun. The light jesting tone, the unembarrassed manner,
+were as free from consciousness as though there were gray-headed
+dons round her. And yet, alas for Phillis! there was
+not a word uttered in a certain voice that did not reach her ear
+somehow; not a movement that was lost upon her, even when
+she chatted and laughed with those who stood round her.</p>
+<p>Colonel Middleton was stanch to his little favorite, and sat on
+the couch between her and Grace, while Nan and Miss Middleton
+talked apart. Nan watched the tea-table smilingly. She
+did so love to see Phillis happy; it never occurred to her to feel
+herself a little neglected, or to wonder why the grave young
+master of the house so seldom addressed her: thoughts of this
+sort never entered Nan&#8217;s head.</p>
+<p>But she grew a little silent by and by, and began to answer
+Elizabeth somewhat absently. She did not know what it meant,
+but a certain strong longing took possession of her,&mdash;a sort of
+craving to see Dick&#8217;s face and hear his voice. It was foolish,
+of course; and then she roused herself with difficulty.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How late Harry is! I wonder if the train be really
+snowed up! Oh, that must be he!&#8221; as the door-bell sounded.
+&#8220;Mattie will be glad; she was so afraid the coffee would be
+cold.&#8221; For Mattie had poured this grievance into every one&#8217;s
+ears.</p>
+<p>Of course it was Sir Harry. Yes, as the door opened, there
+were the broad, genial face and the massive shoulders that could
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_334' name='page_334'></a>334</span>
+only belong to one person. And who was this young man following
+him,&mdash;a somewhat insignificant young man compared to
+this son of Anak,&mdash;a young man with sandy hair, with a trivial
+moustache, with a free, careless expression of good-nature that
+seemed somehow stamped on his features?</p>
+<p>Nan did not speak or move in her corner; but she locked her
+hands together tightly, and a most wonderful blush came to
+her face; for the young man&#8217;s eyes had moved quickly round
+the room, with an eager expression in them, and had just rested
+upon her.</p>
+<p>Nan sat immovable while Sir Harry, gave the necessary introduction
+in his loud, jovial voice:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sorry to be late,&mdash;I am, &#8217;pon my honor, Miss Mattie!
+but it could not be helped: could it, Mayne? Mr. Drummond,
+I have taken the liberty to bring a friend with me; he is my
+guest at present,&mdash;Mr. Richard Mayne. He has come down to
+Hadleigh to see some old acquaintances of his.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dick! Oh, Dick!&#8221; the words would come out now. Miss
+Middleton had judiciously vacated the corner of the couch, and
+Dick had boldly placed himself there instead, after first touching
+Nan&#8217;s trembling hand. &#8220;What does it mean? Why have you
+startled me so?&#8221; she whispered, for they were in a snug corner,
+and no one was near them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose a man has a right to come and look after his own
+belongings?&#8221; returned Dick, in the coolest possible manner.
+But his eyes were more eloquent than his words, as usual.
+&#8220;How lovely you are looking, Nan! I do believe you grow
+prettier every day. And are you glad to see me?&mdash;half or a
+quarter as glad as I am to see you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was thinking of you,&#8221; she returned, softly. &#8220;I was wondering
+what you were doing, and picturing you at Longmead;
+and then the door opened, and there you were, half hidden by
+Harry; and I thought I was dreaming.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, that was transmission of thought, don&#8217;t you see?&mdash;animal
+magnetism, and all that sort of thing. You thought of
+me because I was thinking of you; but you did not know that
+only the door divided us. Oh, Nan! isn&#8217;t it awfully jolly to be
+together again?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; but I don&#8217;t understand it yet,&#8221; she replied. &#8220;Have
+you come without your father&#8217;s permission, Dick? Are you
+sure he will not be very angry?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no; the pater is all right. Sir Harry&mdash;what a brick
+that fellow is!&mdash;has talked him over, and he has given his consent
+to our engagement. Look here, Nan! what you have got
+to do is to pack up your things, and I am to take you down to-morrow.
+This is a note from mother, and you will see what
+she says.&#8221; And Nan&#8217;s gloved hand closed eagerly upon the
+precious missive.</p>
+<p>The letter could not be read just then. Nan sent Dick away
+after that, though he would willingly have remained in his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335' name='page_335'></a>335</span>
+corner during the remainder of the evening. He went off
+grumbling, to be civil to his hostess, and Nan remained behind
+trying to calm herself. It was &#8220;all right,&#8221; Dick had told her.
+She was to go down with him the next day to dear Longmead.
+Were their troubles really over? Well, she would hear all
+about it to-morrow. She must wait patiently until then.</p>
+<p>Nan did not long remain alone. Archie, who had watched
+this little scene from the bay-window, suddenly took his opportunity
+and crossed the room.</p>
+<p>Nan looked up at him with a happy smile.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have had a surprise this evening, have you not, Miss
+Challoner? Sir Harry has just been telling me all about it.
+You will permit me now to offer my congratulations?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Most certainly, Mr. Drummond.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am so glad, for both your sakes, that things should be so
+comfortably settled,&#8221; he went on, placing himself beside her,&mdash;a
+movement that mightily displeased Dick, who had conceived
+a dislike to the handsome parson from the first. &#8220;A parent&#8217;s
+opposition is always a serious drawback in such cases; but Sir
+Harry tells me that Mr. Mayne has given his full consent.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I believe so,&#8221; returned Nan, blushing a little; &#8220;but I really
+hardly know any particulars. It is such a surprise to me altogether;
+but his mother has written to me, and I am expected
+down there.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have my warmest wishes for your happiness,&#8221; continued
+Archie, gravely; and then Nan thanked him.</p>
+<p>But here Dick interrupted them. He was still new to his
+<i>role</i>, and hardly had the assurance that belongs to the engaged
+man, who feels himself safely steering towards the desired
+haven of matrimony. It appeared to him that on this evening
+he ought not to lose sight of Nan for a moment. To see Mr.
+Drummond taking his place was too much for him, and he put
+down his untasted coffee.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid it is rather cold,&#8221; observed Mattie, anxiously;
+but she spoke to deaf ears.</p>
+<p>Dick was already half-way to the corner. Nan received him
+a little shyly; but Mr. Drummond at once took the hint.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Dick, people will notice! you must take care,&#8221; remonstrated
+Nan.</p>
+<p>She was preparing one of those gentle little lectures to which
+she sometimes treated him, and to which he was wont to listen
+with the utmost submission; but, to her intense surprise, he
+turned restive.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That was all very well when things were not settled between
+us,&#8221; observed Dick, decidedly. &#8220;Now we are engaged,
+of course I shall assert my rights publicly. What does it matter
+if people notice? They will only think what a lucky fellow
+I am, and how they would like to be in my place. Do you
+think I was going to remain at the other end of the room while
+that parson was talking to you?&#8221; And then Nan all at once discovered
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336' name='page_336'></a>336</span>
+that, in spite of Dick&#8217;s boyish looks and easy temper,
+she had found her master,&mdash;that, like other men, he was capable
+of jealousy and insisted on an entire and undivided allegiance.</p>
+<p>Nan was weak enough to like him all the better for this little
+touch of tyranny; and, after all, though she felt it a little hard
+on Mr. Drummond, who was so harmless and good-natured, the
+sense of this monopoly was very sweet to her.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XLVI_A_NEW_INVASION_OF_THE_GOTHS' id='CHAPTER_XLVI_A_NEW_INVASION_OF_THE_GOTHS'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLVI.</h2>
+<h3>A NEW INVASION OF THE GOTHS.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>It was the most successful evening&mdash;every one said so; but,
+somehow, Mattie had not enjoyed it. She supposed she was
+tired; that lamp had worried her; but, though every one had
+been very pleasant, and had said nice things to her,&mdash;even that
+formidable Mr. Frere,&mdash;Mattie felt something had been lacking.
+She had been very pleased to see Sir Harry, and he had come
+up to her at once and spoken to her in his usual genial manner;
+but after the first few minutes, during which he had drunk his
+coffee standing beside her, she did not remember that he had
+again addressed her. After that, he had made his way to Grace,
+and did not stir for a long time.</p>
+<p>Mattie had Colonel Middleton on her hands then; but her
+eyes would stray to that part of the room. How pretty Grace
+looked in that soft creamy dress, with the dainty lace ruffles
+that Archie had sent her! Her face generally wanted color
+and animation, but to-night she was quite rosy by comparison.
+She seemed to find Sir Harry amusing, for she looked up at
+him very brightly. And then Archie joined them: he would
+not be <i>de trop</i> there, he knew. And the three talked as though
+they never meant to leave off.</p>
+<p>When Sir Harry came to take his leave, he said, a little
+abruptly,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I like that sister of yours, Miss Mattie. She is sensible for
+a girl; and yet she knows how to laugh. Clever girls are generally
+a little priggish, do you know? But one need not be afraid
+of Miss Grace.&#8221; And Mattie knew that from Sir Harry this
+was high praise.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Every one likes Grace,&#8221; she faltered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am not surprised at that,&#8221; was the ready response; and
+then he shook hands and thanked her for the pleasant evening.
+He did not even look at her as he spoke, Mattie remembered
+afterwards: he was watching Nan, who was smiling on Dick&#8217;s
+arm.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337' name='page_337'></a>337</span></p>
+<p>The young vicar stood bare-headed on the snowy door-step,
+as his guests merrily trooped out together. Dick and Nan
+came first: Nan had a scarlet hood over her bright hair, and
+Dick was grumbling over the lightness of her cloak, and was
+wrapping his gray overcoat round her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense, Nan! I insist upon it! and you know nothing
+gives me cold!&#8221; Dick was saying, in his authoritative way;
+and then of course Nan yielded.</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Oh, wert thou in the cauld blast,&#8217;&#8221; sang Phillis, mockingly,
+who was following them under Captain Middleton&#8217;s escort.
+&#8220;Don&#8217;t you think engaged people are sometimes very masterful?&#8221;
+She spoke, of course, to her companion; but he had turned
+to warn his father and Dulce of an awkward step, and Archie
+intercepted the sentence:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Most men are masterful, Miss Challoner. You will find
+that out some day for yourself.&#8221; He meant nothing by this
+little speech, and he was rather taken aback by the sudden hot
+blush that came to the girl&#8217;s face, and the almost angry light in
+her eyes, as she turned away from him and ran down the slippery
+steps, to Captain Middleton&#8217;s alarm.</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;On yonder lea, on yonder lea,&#8217;&#8221; they heard her humming
+gayly; and Hammond caught the refrain, and finished it in a
+fine manly bass, while Archie stood still under the wintry sky.
+Why had she looked like that at him? What was there in his
+lightly-uttered speech to offend her?</p>
+<p>Grace was standing alone when he re-entered the drawing-room.
+Most of the wax candles were extinguished, but the soft
+glow of the firelight irradiated the farthest corner of the room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What a glorious fire!&#8221; he said, warming his chilly hands
+at it, and then throwing himself into the easy-chair that Grace
+silently placed for him. &#8220;And where is Mattie? Really, she
+did very well to-night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must tell her to-morrow, she will be so pleased; she
+seems tired, and her head aches, so I advised her to go to bed.&#8221;
+And, though Archie did not say openly that he approved of
+this sensible advice, he implied it by the way he drew a low
+chair forward for Grace,&mdash;so close beside him that she could
+rest her arm upon the cushioned elbow of his.</p>
+<p>They remained comfortably silent for along time: it was Grace
+who spoke first.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Archie,&#8221; she said, rather nervously, but her eyes had a
+settled purpose in them, &#8220;shall you be angry if I disobey you,
+dear, and speak again on a certain subject?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What subject?&#8221; he asked, rather surprised by her manner.
+He had not a notion to what she was referring; he did not
+know how during that long silence their thoughts had been
+couching the same point, and that all this time she was seeking
+courage to speak to him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know your secret, Archie; I discovered it to-night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My secret!&#8221; he returned, in utter amazement. &#8220;I have
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338' name='page_338'></a>338</span>
+no secret, Gracie.&#8221; And then, as he caught her meaning, a
+cloud came to his brow. &#8220;But this is nonsense!&#8221; he continued
+harshly,&mdash;&#8220;pure nonsense; put it out of your head.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I saw it to-night,&#8221; she went on, in a very low voice, undisturbed
+by his evident displeasure. &#8220;She is good and sweet,
+and quite lovely, Archie, and that young man is not half worthy
+of her; but she has no thought but for him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you think I do not know that?&#8221; he returned, in an exasperated
+tone. &#8220;Grace, I will not have you talk in this way.
+I am cured,&mdash;quite cured: it was nothing but a passing folly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A folly that made you very unhappy, my poor Archie;
+but&mdash;hush! you must not interrupt me&mdash;I am not going to talk
+about her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that is well,&#8221; he returned, in a relieved tone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was sorry&mdash;just a little sorry&mdash;at first, because I knew
+how much it had cost you; but this evening I could have found
+it in my heart to be angry with you,&mdash;yes, even with you.
+&#8216;Oh, the blindness of these men!&#8217; I thought: &#8216;why will they
+trample on their own happiness?&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you speaking of me?&#8221; he asked, in a bewildered
+tone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of whom should I be speaking?&#8221; she answered; and her
+voice had a peculiar meaning in it. &#8220;You are my dear brother,&mdash;my
+dearest brother; but you are no more sensible than other
+men.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose not,&#8221; he returned, staring at her; &#8220;I suppose
+not.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Many men have done what you are doing,&#8221; she went on,
+quietly. &#8220;Many have wanted what belonged to another, and
+have turned their backs upon the blessing that might have been
+theirs. It is the game of cross-purposes. Do you remember
+that picture, Archie,&mdash;the lovely print you longed to buy&mdash;the
+two girls and the two men? There was the pretty demure
+maiden in front, and at the back a girl with a far sweeter face
+to my mind, watching the gloomy-looking fellow who is regarding
+his divinity from afar. There was a face here to-night that
+brought that second girl strongly to my mind; and I caught an
+expression on it once&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; Here Archie violently started.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hush! hush! what are you implying? Grace, you are
+romancing; you do not mean this?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;As there is a heaven above us, I do mean it, Archie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then, for God&#8217;s sake, not another word!&#8221; And then he
+rose from his seat, and stood on the rug.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are not really angry with me?&#8221; she urged, frightened
+at his vehemence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; I am not angry. I never am angry with you, Grace,
+as you know; but all the same there are some things that
+never should be said.&#8221; And, when he had thus gravely rebuked
+her speech, he kissed her forehead, and muttering some excuse
+about the lateness of the hour, left the room.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339' name='page_339'></a>339</span></p>
+<p>Grace crept away to her chamber a little discomfited by this
+rebuff, gently as it had been given; but if she had only guessed
+the commotion those few hinted words had raised in her
+brother&#8217;s mind!</p>
+<p>He had understood her; in one moment he had understood
+her. As though by a lightning-flash of intelligence, the truth
+had dawned upon him; and if an electric shock had passed
+through his frame and set all his nerves tingling he could not
+have been more deeply shaken.</p>
+<p>Was that what she thought, too, when she had turned away
+from him with that quiet look of scorn on her face! Did she
+know of any possible blessing that might have been his, only
+that he had turned his back upon it, crying out childishly for a
+shadowy happiness? Did she mutter to herself also, &#8220;Oh,
+the blindness of these men!&#8221;?</p>
+<p>There is an old saying, greatly credited by the generality of
+people, that hearts are often caught at the rebound,&mdash;that in
+their painful tossings from uneven heights and depths, and that
+sad swinging over uncertain abysses, some are suddenly attracted
+and held fast; and there is sufficient proof to warrant
+the truth of this adage.</p>
+<p>The measurements of pain are unequal: different natures
+hold different capacities. A trouble that seems very real at the
+time, and full of stings, may be found later on to be largely
+alloyed by wounded self-love and frustrated vanity. Sound it
+with the plumb-line of experience, of time, of wakening hopefulness,
+and it may sink fathoms, and by and by end in nothingness,
+or perhaps more truly in just a sense of salt bitterness
+between the teeth, as when one plunges in a waning tide.</p>
+<p>Not that Archie realized all this as he paced his room that
+night: no; he was very strangely moved and excited. Something,
+he knew not what, had again stirred the monotony of
+his life. He had been sick and sad for a long time; for men
+are like children, and fret sometimes after the unattainable, if
+their hearts be set upon it. And yet, though he forbore to
+question himself too closely that night, how much of his pain
+had been due to wounded vanity and crossed wilfulness!</p>
+<p>It was long before he could sleep, for the sudden broadening
+of the prospective of his future kept him wide awake and restless.
+It was as though he had been straining his eyes to look
+down a long, gray vista, where he saw things dimly, and that
+suddenly there was a low light on the horizon,&mdash;not brilliant,
+not even clear; but it spoke of approaching daybreak. By and
+by the path would be more plainly visible.</p>
+<p>There was great excitement at the Friary on the next day.
+They had found it hard to get rid of Dick the previous night;
+but Sir Harry, who read his aunt&#8217;s tired face rightly, had carried
+him off almost by sheer force, after a lengthy leave-taking
+with Nan in the passage.</p>
+<p>It was only Mrs. Challoner who was tired. Poor woman!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340' name='page_340'></a>340</span>
+she was fairly worn out by the violence of her conflicting feeling,&mdash;by
+sympathy with Nan in her happiness, with pleasure
+in Dick&#8217;s demonstrative joy, and sorrow at the thought of losing
+her child. The girl herself was far too much excited for sleep.</p>
+<p>She and Phillis did all the packing for the next day, and it was
+not until Dulce sleepily warned them of the lateness of the hour
+that they consented to separate; and then Nan sat by the parlor
+fire a long time alone, enjoying the luxury of undisturbed meditation.</p>
+<p>But the next morning, just as they had gone into the work-room,&mdash;not
+to settle to any business,&mdash;that was impossible under
+the present exciting circumstances,&mdash;but just to fold up and
+despatch a gown that had been finished for Mrs. Squails, while
+Dulce put the finishing-touches to Mrs. Cheyne&#8217;s tweed dress,
+Nan announced in a glad voice that their cousin and Dick were
+at the gate; &#8220;and I am so thankful we packed last night,&#8221; she
+continued, &#8220;for Dick will not let me have a free moment until
+we start.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You should keep him in better order,&#8221; observed Phillis,
+tersely: &#8220;if you give him his own way so much, you will not
+have a will of your own when you are married: will she,
+mother?&#8221; Mrs. Challoner smiled a little feebly in answer to
+this: she could not remember the time when she had had a will
+of her own.</p>
+<p>Nan went out shyly to meet them; but she could not understand
+her reception at all. Dick&#8217;s grasp of her hand was sufficiently
+eloquent, but he said nothing; and Nan thought he was
+trying not to laugh, for there was a gleam of fun in his eyes,
+though he endeavored to look solemn. Sir Harry&#8217;s face, too,
+wore an expression of portentous gravity.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you all in the work-room, Nan?&#8221; he asked, in a tone
+as though they were assembled at a funeral.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; mother and all,&#8221; answered Nan, brightly. &#8220;What is
+the matter with you both? You look dreadfully solemn.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Because we have a little business before us,&#8221; returned Sir
+Harry, wrinkling his brows and frowning at Dick. &#8220;Come,
+Mayne, if you are ready.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wait a minute, Nan. I will speak to you afterwards,&#8221;
+observed that young gentleman, divesting himself of his gray
+overcoat; and Nan, very much puzzled, preceded them into the
+room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How do you do, Aunt Catherine? Good-morning, girls,&#8221;
+nodded Sir Harry; and then he looked at Dick. And what
+were they both doing? Were they mad? They must have
+taken leave of their senses; for Dick had raised his foot gently,&mdash;very
+gently,&mdash;and Mrs. Squails&#8217;s red merino gown lay in the
+passage. At the same moment, Sir Harry&#8217;s huge hand had
+closed over the tweed, and, by a dexterous thrust, had flung it
+as far as the kitchen. And now Dick was bundling out the
+sewing-machine.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_341' name='page_341'></a>341</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Dick! oh, Dick!&#8221; in an alarmed voice from Dulce. And
+Phillis flew to the great carved wardrobe, that Sir Harry was
+ransacking; while Nan vainly strove to rescue the fashion-books
+that Dick was now flinging into the fender.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you great Goth! You stupid, ridiculous Harry!&#8221;
+observed Phillis, scornfully, while the rolls of silk and satin
+and yards of trimming were tossed lightly into a heap of
+<i>debris</i>.</p>
+<p>Laddie was growling and choking over the buttons. Dorothy
+afterwards carried away a whole shovelful of pins and
+hooks and eyes.</p>
+<p>Nan sat down by her mother and folded her hands on her
+lap. When men were masterful, it was time for maidens to sit
+still. Dulce really looked frightened; but Phillis presently
+broke into a laugh.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is a parable of nature,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Mammie, does
+your head ache? Would you like to go into the next room?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, we have about done!&#8221; observed Sir Harry. &#8220;The
+place is pretty well clear: isn&#8217;t it, Mayne?&#8221; And, as Dick
+nodded a cheerful assent, he shut the door of the wardrobe,
+locked it, and, with much solemnity, put the key in his pocket.
+&#8220;Now for my parable,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Aunt Catherine, you will
+excuse a bit of a spree, but one must take the high hand with
+these girls. I have bundled out the whole lot of trumpery;
+but, as head of this family, I am not going to stand any more
+of this nonsense.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, indeed!&#8221; put in Phillis. &#8220;I hope Mrs. Squails will
+take her creased gown! Dulce, the sewing-machine is right
+on the top of it,&mdash;a most improving process, certainly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, Phillis, you will just shut up with your nonsense! As
+head of the family, I am not going to stand any more of this
+sort of thing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What sort of thing?&#8221; asked Mrs. Challoner, timidly. &#8220;My
+dears, I thought it was only fun; but I do believe your cousin
+is in earnest.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am quite in earnest, Aunt Catherine,&#8221; returned Sir Harry,
+sitting down beside her, and taking her hand. &#8220;I hope our
+bit of larking has not been too much for you; but that fellow
+vowed it would be a good joke.&#8221; Here Dick&#8217;s eyes twinkled.
+&#8220;If Mrs. Squails&#8217;s gown is spoiled, I will buy her another; but
+on your peril, girls, if you put a stitch in any but your own
+from this day forward!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Please your honor, kindly,&#8221; whined Phillis, dropping a courtesy,
+&#8220;and what will your honor have us do?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do!&#8221; and then he broke into a laugh. &#8220;Oh, I will tell you
+that presently. All I know is, Nan is engaged to my friend
+Mayne here; and I have promised his father, on my word as a
+gentleman and head of this family, that this dressmaking
+humbug shall be given up.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You had no right to give such a promise,&#8221; returned
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_342' name='page_342'></a>342</span>
+Phillis, offended at this; but Nan&#8217;s hand stole into Dick&#8217;s. She
+understood now.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, Harry, my dear,&#8221; asked Mrs. Challoner, &#8220;what would
+you have them do?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, play tennis,&mdash;dance,&mdash;flirt, if they like! How do
+young ladies generally occupy their time? Don&#8217;t let us talk
+about such petty details as this. I want to tell you about my
+new house. You all know Gilsbank? Well, it is &#8216;Challoner
+Place&#8217; now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have bought it, Harry?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; I have bought it,&#8221; he returned, coolly. &#8220;And what
+is more, I hope to settle down there in another month&#8217;s time.
+How soon do you think you will be ready to move, Aunt
+Catherine?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear!&#8221; in a voice of mild astonishment. But Dulce
+clapped her hands: she thought she guessed his meaning. &#8220;Are
+we to live with you, Harry? Do you really mean to take us
+with you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course I shall take you with me; but not to Challoner
+Place. That would be rather close quarters; and&mdash;and&mdash;I may
+make different arrangements,&#8221; rather sheepishly. &#8220;Aunt Catherine,
+Glen Cottage will be all ready for you and the girls. I
+have settled about the furniture; and Mrs. Mayne will have
+fires lighted whenever you like to come down. Why, aunt,&mdash;dear
+Aunt Catherine,&#8221; as he felt her thin hand tremble in his,
+and the tears started to her eyes, &#8220;did you not tell me how
+much you loved your old home? And do you think, when you
+have no son to take care of you, that I should ever let you be
+far from me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Confound you!&#8221; growled Dick. &#8220;Is not a son-in-law as
+good as a son any day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But no one heard this but Nan.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner was weeping for joy, and Dulce was keeping
+her company; but Phillis walked up to her cousin with a shamefaced
+look:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sorry I called you a Goth, Harry. I ought to have
+remembered Alcides. You are as good as gold. You are a dear
+generous fellow. And I love you for it; and so do Nan and
+Dulce. And I was not a bit cross, really; but you did look
+such a great goose, turning out that wardrobe.&#8221; But, though
+she laughed at the remembrance, the tears were in Phillis&#8217;s
+eyes.</p>
+<p>Dick was nobody after this: not that he minded that. How
+could they help crowding round this &#8220;big hero&#8221; of theirs who
+had performed such wonders?</p>
+<p>Gilsbank turned into Challoner Place; Glen Cottage, with its
+conservatory and brand-new furniture, theirs again,&mdash;their own,&mdash;their
+very own (for Sir Harry intended to buy that too as soon
+as possible); Nan engaged to her dearest Dick, and all the
+neighborhood prepared to welcome them back!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_343' name='page_343'></a>343</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;If you please, Miss Phillis, Mrs. Squails desires her compliments,
+and she is waiting for her dress.&#8221;</p>
+<p>We forbare to repeat Sir Harry&#8217;s answer. Nevertheless, with
+Dick&#8217;s help, the unfortunate gown was extricated, and privately
+ironed by Dorothy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That is a good morning&#8217;s work of yours,&#8221; observed Phillis,
+quietly looking down at the heap at her feet. &#8220;Dorothy, it
+seems Sir Harry is master here. If any more orders come for
+us, you may as well say, &#8216;The Misses Challoner have given up
+business.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XLVII_IT_WAS_SO_GOOD_OF_YOU_TO_ASK_ME_HERE' id='CHAPTER_XLVII_IT_WAS_SO_GOOD_OF_YOU_TO_ASK_ME_HERE'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLVII.</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;IT WAS SO GOOD OF YOU TO ASK ME HERE.&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Mrs. Challoner heaved a gentle little sigh when in the
+afternoon the fly carried off Nan and Dick to the station: it
+brought to her mind another day that would come far too soon.
+Phillis spoke out this thought boldly as she ran back to the
+cottage.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wanted to throw an old shoe for luck, mammie,&#8221; she
+said, laughing, &#8220;only I knew Nan would be so dreadfully
+shocked. How happy they looked! And Dick was making
+such a fuss over her, bringing out his plaid to wrap her in.
+Certainly he is much improved, and looks five years older.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Perhaps Dick shared Mrs. Challoner&#8217;s thought too, for an expression
+of deep gravity crossed his face as he sat down by Nan,&mdash;a
+look that was tender, and yet wistful, as he took her hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Nan! it does seem so nice to have you all to myself for
+a little,&mdash;just you and I, alone, and all the rest of the world
+outside somewhere! Do you know it is possible to be almost
+too happy!&#8221; And Dick sighed from the very fulness of content.</p>
+<p>Nan gave a merry little laugh at this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no: to me it seems only natural to be happy. When
+things were at their worst I knew that they would come right
+some day; and I could not be quite miserable, even then. It
+was hard, of course; but when one is young, one ought not to
+mind a little waiting. And we have not waited long, have we,
+dear?&#8221; But to this Dick demurred.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was the longest term I ever passed,&#8221; he returned, seriously.
+&#8220;When a fellow is in that sort of unsettled state, one
+cannot measure time in the ordinary way. Well, the ordeal is
+over, thank heaven!&#8221; And then he paused, and continued, a
+little thoughtfully: &#8220;What I have to do now is to work hard
+and do my best to deserve you. I shall never be worthy of you,
+Nan; I know that.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_344' name='page_344'></a>344</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I think you quite worthy of me,&#8221; she answered, softly, and
+now there were tears in her eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no; no fellow could be that,&#8221; he replied, decidedly.
+&#8220;I am well enough in my way, and compared with other men
+I am not so bad,&#8221; continued Dick, who had a sufficiently good
+opinion of his own merits, in spite of the humility of his speech;
+&#8220;but as to coming up to you, Nan, by a long way, why, the
+thing is impossible! But I tell you this, it helps a fellow to keep
+right and steady when he believes in the goodness of the girl
+belonging to him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must not make me vain,&#8221; she half whispered, and her
+lips trembled a little at his praise. But he disregarded this remonstrance,
+and went on:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have kept me right all my life. How could I ever do a
+mean or a shabby action to make you ashamed of me? When
+I was tempted once or twice,&mdash;for idle young fellows will be
+tempted,&mdash;I used to say to myself, No, Nan would not approve
+if she knew it. And I held tight to this thought, and I am glad
+now that I can look in your dear face and tell you this. It
+makes me feel so happy.&#8221; And indeed Dick&#8217;s face was radiant.</p>
+<p>They were almost sorry when the journey was over; they had
+so much to say to each other. The wintry landscape was
+growing gray and indistinct as they reached their destination,
+and, though Nan peered anxiously into the darkness for a
+glimpse of each well-remembered spot, she could only just discern
+the dim outline of Glen Cottage before the carriage turned
+in at the gates of Longmead.</p>
+<p>Mr. Mayne had determined to pay his intended daughter-in-law
+all becoming honors, and as soon as the carriage wheels
+were heard he had the hall door thrown back to show the
+bright, welcoming light, and he himself descended the flight of
+steps to the terrace. &#8220;Just as though I were a royal personage,&#8221;
+laughed Nan. But she was a little nattered by the compliment.</p>
+<p>Most girls would have felt the awkwardness of the situation,
+but not Nan. The moment Dick assisted her out of the carriage
+she walked up to his father, and put up her face to be kissed in
+the most natural way. &#8220;It was so good of you to ask me here;
+and I am so glad to come,&#8221; she said, simply.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, there! run in out of the cold,&#8221; was all his answer;
+and he patted her hand a little awkwardly. But, though his
+voice had its usual gruffness, his manner was otherwise kind.
+&#8220;How are you, Dick? I hope Roper did not keep you waiting
+at the station, for you are a quarter of an hour behind your
+time.&#8221; And then he took his son&#8217;s arm and walked up the steps
+again.</p>
+<p>Nan, meanwhile, had run through the hall and into the warm,
+softly-lighted drawing-room, and there she soon found herself
+in Mrs. Mayne&#8217;s motherly arms. When the gentlemen came in
+they interrupted quite a little scene, for Mrs. Mayne was actually
+crying over the girl, and Nan was kissing her.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_345' name='page_345'></a>345</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you think you had better stop that sort of thing,
+Bessie,&#8221; observed her husband, drily, &#8220;and get Nan a cup of
+tea? You would like some tea, my dear, would you not?&#8221; in
+a more gracious voice.</p>
+<p>Of course Nan said she would like some, just to show her
+appreciation of his thoughtfulness; and then Dick said he
+should like some too, and his father quizzed him a little as he
+rang the bell. And as Mrs. Mayne obediently dried her eyes at
+her husband&#8217;s behest, they were soon very happy and comfortable.
+When Nan&#8217;s cup was empty, Dick darted to take it,
+that it might be replenished; but his father was before him.</p>
+<p>All that evening Mr. Mayne waited on Nan, quite ignoring
+his son&#8217;s claims. He had a special brand of champagne served
+that Nan had once said she liked; and he reminded her of this,
+and pressed her to partake of it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is to your health, my dear,&#8221; he said, lifting his glass
+of port to his lips when the servants had withdrawn; &#8220;and to
+yours too, Dick.&#8221; And then Nan blushed very becomingly, and
+Dick thanked him a little gravely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do think the old boy has fallen in love with you himself,
+for he has not let me come near you all the evening,&#8221; whispered
+Dick later on that night, pretending to grumble, but in reality
+looking very happy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He has been so good to me,&#8221; returned the girl; and she
+repeated this for Mrs. Mayne&#8217;s benefit, when at last the two
+women found themselves free to indulge in a little talk. Nan
+had coaxed her friend to sit beside her fire for a few minutes,
+and then she had knelt down beside her, wrapping her arms
+round her in the most affectionate way.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear, dear Mrs. Mayne, how nice all this is! and how good
+Mr. Mayne has been to me all this evening!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My Richard never does things by halves,&#8221; returned Mrs.
+Mayne, proudly. &#8220;People cannot always understand him, because
+his manner is a little rough sometimes; but I know, and
+none better, his real goodness of heart. Why, he is so pleased
+with himself and you and Dick this evening that he hardly
+knows how to contain himself; but he is a little awkward in
+showing it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no; I did not think him awkward at all.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I must say you behaved beautifully, Nan, never seeming as
+though you remembered that there had been anything amiss,
+but just taking everything as he meant it. Of course I knew
+how you would act: I was not afraid that I should be disappointed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course I could not do otherwise.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And Dick, too, behaved so well, keeping in the background
+just to give his father full freedom. I must say I was pleased
+with him, too, for most young men are so thoughtless; but then
+his behavior to his father has been perfect throughout.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I knew it would be,&#8221; whispered Nan.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_346' name='page_346'></a>346</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sure it made my heart ache to see him. Sometimes
+he would come in whistling and pretending to be his old self,
+so light-hearted and cheerful; and all the time he was fretting
+himself to death, as I told Richard. Richard was terribly trying
+sometimes,&mdash;you know his way,&mdash;but the boy bore it so
+well. It was not till the last, when they had that walk, and
+Dick was goaded into positive anger, that he ever lost his temper
+in the least. I will say this, Nan, that though my Dick may
+not be much to look at, he has the sweetest temper and the
+kindest heart.&#8221; And so the simple woman ran on, and Nan
+listened, well pleased.</p>
+<p>When Mr. Mayne came up to his dressing-room that evening,
+his wife stole in after him, and laid her hands on his shoulder
+as he stood thoughtfully contemplating the fire.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, Richard, won&#8217;t you own she is lovely now?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Humph! yes; I suppose people would call her pretty,&#8221; he
+returned, in his grudging way. &#8220;But I tell you what, Bessie,&#8221;
+suddenly kindling into animation, &#8220;she is better than handsome;
+she is out and out good, and she will make a man of
+Dick.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;God bless him, and her too!&#8221; whispered the mother, as
+she withdrew softly, but not before she caught the sound of an
+&#8220;Amen&#8221; uttered distinctly in her husband&#8217;s voice.</p>
+<p>Nan made Dick take her to all their old haunts the next
+morning; but first of all they went to Glen Cottage. Nan ran
+through all the rooms with almost a child&#8217;s glee: nothing could
+exceed her delight when Dick showed her the drawing-room,
+with the new conservatory opening out of it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It always was a pretty room,&#8221; she said, glancing round
+her; &#8220;but the conservatory and the new furniture have quite
+transformed it. How charmed mother and the girls will be!
+The whole house looks better than when we were in it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense!&#8221; returned Dick, stoutly. &#8220;There never was a
+house to compare with it. I always loved it; and so did you,
+Nan. What a summer we shall have here, when I am reading
+up for honors in the long vacation! I mean to work pretty
+hard; for when a fellow has such an object as that&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; And
+then he looked at Nan meaningly; but she was not to be beguiled
+into that subject.</p>
+<p>They were so happy, and so young, that they could afford
+to wait a little; and she did not wish Dick to speak yet of that
+day that was looming in the distance.</p>
+<p>She could only be sure of one summer at Glen Cottage; but
+what a time they would have! She stood for a long while looking
+out on the lawn and calling up possible visions of summer
+afternoons. The tennis-ground was marked out already in her
+imagination; the tea-table in its old place under the trees; there
+was her mother knitting in her favorite wicker-chair; there
+were Dulce and Phillis, surrounded by their friends</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come away, Nan. Are you moon-struck, or dreaming?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_347' name='page_347'></a>347</span>
+questioned Dick, drawing her arm through his. &#8220;Do you remember
+what we have to do before luncheon? And Vigo looks
+so impatient for his run.&#8221; But even Dick paused for a moment
+in the veranda to show Nan the rose she had picked for him
+just there, and which still lay in his pocket-book.</p>
+<p>All her old friends crowded round Nan to welcome her back;
+and great were the rejoicings when they heard that Glen Cottage
+was to be in the Challoners&#8217; possession again. Carrie Paine
+and Adelaide Sartoris called first. Carrie embraced Nan with
+tearful effusion: she was an honest, warm-hearted creature.
+But Adelaide looked at her a little curiously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my dear, the scandal that has been talked about you
+all!&#8221; she said, in a mysterious tone. &#8220;Carrie and I would not
+believe it: would we, Car? We told people to hold their
+tongues, and not talk such nonsense.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never mind that now, Addie,&#8221; returned Nan, cheerfully.
+She felt she must be careful of what she said, for Dick&#8217;s sake.
+&#8220;We have had our worries, and have worked as better people
+have before us; but now it is all over.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But is it true that your cousin, Sir Henry Challoner, has
+bought Gilsbank?&#8221; broke in Carrie. &#8220;Tell us about him,
+dear. Addie thought she saw him once. Is he a tall man,
+with red hair?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very red hair,&#8221; responded Nan, laughing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I did see him,&#8221; replied Miss Sartoris, decidedly. &#8220;He
+is quite a giant, Nan; but he looks very good-natured.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Miss Sartoris was just engaged to a dapper little colonel in
+the Hussars, so she could afford to be quizzical on the subject
+of Sir Harry&#8217;s inches; but Carrie, who was at present unattached,
+was a little curious about the future master of Gilsbank.</p>
+<p>After this, Nan called at Fitzroy Lodge, and Dick went with
+her. Lady Fitzroy, who was looking very pretty and delicate,
+welcomed Nan with the greatest kindness. When Lord Fitzroy
+came in with the rest of the gentlemen from hunting, he questioned
+Nan very closely about their new neighbor, Sir Henry
+Challoner, and made a great many kind inquiries after his
+favorite, Miss Phillis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;So we are to have you all back, eh,&#8221; he queried, pleasantly.
+&#8220;Well, I call that good news. I am bound that Evelyn is as
+pleased to hear it as I am.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am very much pleased,&#8221; returned Lady Fitzroy graciously.
+&#8220;And you must tell your mother so, with my love. Percival,
+will you ring for some more hot water, please? I shall not be
+long: but I am going to take Miss Challoner upstairs to see
+our boy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Nan knew that a great privilege was being conferred on her
+as she followed Lady Fitzroy into the grand nursery, where
+the tiny heir lay in his bassinette.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is he not just like Fitzroy?&#8221; exclaimed the proud young
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_348' name='page_348'></a>348</span>
+mother, as they stood looking down on the red crumpled features
+of the new-comer. &#8220;Nurse says she has never seen such
+a striking likeness.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is a darling!&#8221; exclaimed Nan, who was, like other girls,
+a devout baby-worshipper; and then they discoursed very
+eloquently on his infantile beauties.</p>
+<p>It was after this that Lady Fitzroy congratulated Nan on her
+engagement, and kissed her in quite a sisterly way.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fitzroy and I do not think him half good enough for you,&#8221;
+she said, very prettily. &#8220;But no one who knows Mr. Mayne
+can fail to like him, he is so thoroughly genuine and nice. Will
+the engagement be a long one, Miss Challoner?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not so very long,&#8221; Nan returned, blushing. &#8220;Dick has to
+read for honors; but, when he has taken his degree, his father
+has promised to make things straight for us, while Dick reads
+for the bar.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is to be a barrister, then?&#8221; asked Lady Fitzroy, in surprise.
+&#8220;You must not think me inquisitive, but I thought Mr.
+Mayne was so very well off.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So he is,&#8221; replied Nan, smiling,&mdash;&#8220;quite rich, I believe;
+but Dick would not like an idle life, and during his father&#8217;s lifetime
+he can only expect a moderate income.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You will live in London, then?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; I suppose so;&#8221; was Nan&#8217;s answer. &#8220;But we have
+not talked much about that yet. Dick must work hard for
+another year, and after that I believe things are to be settled.&#8221;
+And then Lady Fitzroy kissed her again, and they went downstairs.</p>
+<p>Nan wrote home that she was <i>f&ecirc;ted</i> like a queen, and that
+Dick grumbled sadly at having her so little to himself; but then
+Dick was much given to that sort of good-natured grumbling.</p>
+<p>The visit was necessarily a very brief one, as term-time was
+approaching, and Dick had to go up to Oxford. On the last
+morning he took Nan for a walk down to Sandy Lane. Vigo
+and the other dogs were with them, and at the point where the
+four roads met, Dick stopped and leaned his arms over a gate.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It will seem a long time to Easter, Nan,&#8221; he said, rather
+lugubriously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no,&#8221; she replied brightly to this; &#8220;you will have my
+letters,&mdash;such long ones, Dick,&mdash;and you know Mr. Mayne has
+promised to bring Phillis and me down for a couple of days.
+We are to stay at the Randolph, and of course we shall have
+afternoon tea in your rooms.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; I will ask Hamilton and some of the other fellows to
+meet you. I want all my friends to see you, Nan.&#8221; And as
+Dick thought of the glory of this introduction, and of the envy
+of Hamilton and the other fellows, his brow cleared and his old
+spirits returned.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall think of nothing but my work and those letters,
+Nan,&#8221; were his last words. &#8220;I am determined that next summer
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_349' name='page_349'></a>349</span>
+shall see you my wife.&#8221; His voice dropped over the last
+word almost shyly; but Nan saw a great brightness come into
+his eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must not work too hard,&#8221; was all her answer to this,
+as she moved gently away from him. But her heart beat a little
+faster at his words. No; she would only have another summer
+at Glen Cottage. She knew that, and then the new life would
+lie before them, which she and Dick were to live together.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XLVIII_MRS_SPARSITS_POODLE' id='CHAPTER_XLVIII_MRS_SPARSITS_POODLE'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h2>
+<h3>MRS. SPARSIT&#8217;S POODLE.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>While Nan was being <i>f&ecirc;ted</i> and petted at Longmead, Mattie&#8217;s
+visit was dragging heavily to its close. Since the evening of
+the tea-party things had been more unsatisfactory than ever.</p>
+<p>Archie and Grace were a good deal out. Grace was perpetually
+at the Friary, and Archie had resumed his old habit of
+dropping in there for a morning or evening chat. Sir Harry
+came almost daily, and often spent his disengaged hours with
+them; but Mattie never saw him for a moment alone. Grace
+was always in the room, and his conversation was chiefly
+addressed to her. When Mattie dropped sadly out of the talk,
+or sat silent in her corner, he did not in his old kind fashion
+try to include her in the conversation: indeed, he rarely noticed
+her, except in his brief leave-taking. It hurt Mattie inexpressibly
+to be thus ignored by her old friend, for from the first his
+cordiality had had a sunshiny influence over her,&mdash;he had been
+so good to her, so thoughtful for her comfort, before Grace came;
+but now he seemed to forget sometimes that such a person as
+Mattie even existed. Was it because Grace&#8217;s fair, serious face
+had bewitched him, or was there anything on his mind? for
+more than once Mattie thought he seemed absent and ill at
+ease.</p>
+<p>Mattie could not understand it at all. She was not a very
+acute little person, neither was she over-sensitive by nature, but
+this sudden coldness on Sir Harry&#8217;s part was wounding and
+perplexing in the extreme. Had she done anything to offend
+him? Mattie wondered, or was he simply bored by her as most
+people were?</p>
+<p>Once Archie had snubbed her very severely in his presence;
+something had put him out, and he had spoken to Mattie as
+though no one were present but their two selves. It was Grace
+who called him so gently to order, and made him feel ashamed
+of himself. Sir Harry did not even seem to notice it: he had a
+paper in his hand, and he went on reading it. But as Mattie
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_350' name='page_350'></a>350</span>
+left the room she heard him speaking to Grace in his usual way
+about some political question or other.</p>
+<p>Mattie cried bitterly in her room that day. Somehow, she
+had never taken Archie&#8217;s snubbing so much to heart before.
+How could he speak to her like that, she thought? What would
+Sir Harry think of her, and of him too? Archie&#8217;s conscience
+pricked him when he saw the traces of tears on Mattie&#8217;s face
+that afternoon, and he was very kind to her all the remainder
+of the day; but he did not apologize for his words: no one ever
+did apologize to Mattie. But to his surprise, and Grace&#8217;s too,
+Mattie&#8217;s sad face did not clear.</p>
+<p>It was her last afternoon but one at the vicarage, and Mattie
+was sitting alone. All the morning she and Grace had been
+packing together, for Grace, in her sensible way, had begged
+her sister not to leave things for the last day. It would tire her
+for her journey, she said; and the Challoners were coming to
+spend Mattie&#8217;s last evening with her at the vicarage; and there
+were the Middletons probably coming for an afternoon visit,
+and so Mattie had better keep herself free for her friends.
+Mattie had assented to this, and she had been very grateful to
+Grace for all the help she had given her. Her boxes were ready
+for cording, and her little parting gifts for the servants laid
+ready labelled in her drawers, and nothing remained for her
+busy hands to do.</p>
+<p>It was a cold, cheerless afternoon; a cutting north wind and
+a gray cloudy sky made the fireside all the more tempting by
+comparison; but Mattie knew there was one duty unfulfilled
+that she ought to perform. She had promised to call and say
+good-bye to an old acquaintance of hers who lived at Rock
+Building.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Chamberlain was not a favorite with most people: she
+was an invalid of somewhat uncertain temper, and most of her
+friends felt her society an infliction on their patience. Mattie,
+who was very good-natured, had often done kindly little offices
+for her, sitting with her for an hour or two at a time, and teaching
+her some new stitch, to beguile her tedious and often painful
+days.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Chamberlain would feel herself aggrieved if Mattie disappointed
+her. And she never had stayed at home for the
+weather; only she was lazy,&mdash;tired, perhaps, from her packing,&mdash;and
+reluctant to move.</p>
+<p>Sir Harry was in the study, she knew: she had heard his
+voice some time ago. He often turned in there of his own accord
+or perhaps Archie had waylaid him and brought him in, for
+they were excellent friends now; Grace was there, of course,
+but Mattie had hesitated to join them: none of them wanted
+her, she said bitterly to herself.</p>
+<p>A dim hope that Grace might come in search of her, or that
+even Sir Henry might saunter in by and by and ask for a cup
+of tea in his old way, had kept Mattie in her place; but now it
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_351' name='page_351'></a>351</span>
+was getting a little late, and perhaps after all Grace would ring,
+and have the tea in there, as she had done once before: and it
+was no use waiting. And so, when Mattie reached this point,
+she hurried upstairs and put on her hat and thick jacket, and
+then, after a moment&#8217;s hesitation, opened the study door.</p>
+<p>It was just the scene she pictured. Sir Harry was in the big
+chair in front of the blazing fire, and Grace in her low wicker
+seat, facing him, with a Chinese screen in her hand. Archie
+was standing on the rug, with his elbow against the narrow
+wooden mantelpiece, and all three were talking merrily. Sir
+Harry stopped in the middle of a laugh, as Mattie entered, and
+shook hands with her a little gravely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How comfortable you all look!&#8221; faltered Mattie. The
+words came in spite of her efforts not to say them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then come and join us,&#8221; returned Archie, with unusual affability.
+&#8220;Grace was just wondering what you were doing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was in the drawing-room alone. No, I cannot sit down,
+Archie, thank you. I am just going to bid old Mrs. Chamberlain
+good-bye: she is expecting me, and I must not disappoint
+her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, but it is not fit for you,&#8221; remonstrated Grace. &#8220;Sir
+Harry says the wind is piercing. Do put off your visit until to-morrow,
+Mattie, and we will go together.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fie, Miss Grace! never put off until to-morrow what can be
+done to-day,&#8221; observed Sir Harry, in his joking voice. &#8220;What
+is it the copy-books say?&mdash;is it procrastination or money that is
+the root of all evil?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sir Harry is quite right, and I must go,&#8221; stammered Mattie,
+made quite desperate by this joke; he knew how the wind was
+sweeping over the gray sea, and yet he had not said a word
+about her remaining. Poor Mattie! a miserable choking feeling
+came into her throat, as she closed the door on another laugh
+and struggled along in the teeth of the wind. Another time she
+would not have minded it, for she was hardy by nature; but
+now the cold seemed to freeze her very heart; she looked quite
+blue and pinched when she entered Mrs. Chamberlain&#8217;s drawing-room.
+It seemed to Mattie as though hours had passed before
+she brought her visit to a close, and yet she had been sitting
+there only three quarters of an hour before she took her leave.
+The old lady was very gracious this afternoon; she pressed
+Mattie again and again to wait a little until Sallie brought up
+the tea and a nice hot cake she was baking. But Mattie steadily
+refused even these tempting delicacies: she was not cold any
+longer, she said; but it was growing late, or the afternoon was
+darker than usual. And then she wished her old friend good-bye,&mdash;oh,
+good-bye for such a long time, Mattie thought,&mdash;and
+sallied forth bravely into the wind gain.</p>
+<p>It had lulled a little, but the scene before her was very
+desolate; just the gray expanse of sea, with the white line of
+surge breaking into the shore; and here and there a wave tossing
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_352' name='page_352'></a>352</span>
+up its foamy head in the distance. The air seemed full of
+that continuous low rolling and splashing of breakers on the
+beach: a sea-gull was flying inland; the Parade looked white
+and wind-bleached,&mdash;not a creature in sight but a coast-guard
+on duty, moving backwards and forwards in a rather forlorn
+manner, except&#8211;&#8211;Here Mattie turned her head quickly:
+yes, a little beyond there was a man in a rough pilot&#8217;s coat,
+looking out seaward,&mdash;a nautical man, Mattie thought, by the
+way he stood, as though summer gales were blowing about his
+ears.</p>
+<p>Mattie passed quite close to him, for the wind drifted her a
+little as she did so. He turned coolly round and confronted
+her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sir Harry! Oh, I did not know you in the least,&#8221; faltered
+Mattie, standing still in her surprise.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I dare say not,&#8221; he replied, quietly: &#8220;you have never seen
+me in this costume before, and I had my back turned towards
+you. I saw you coming, though, walking as unsteadily as a
+duck in a storm. What a time you have been, Miss Mattie!
+You ladies are so fond of a gossip.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Were you waiting for me?&#8221; she asked, rather breathlessly,
+and then colored painfully at her question. How absurd! Of
+course he was not waiting for her; his hotel was just opposite,
+and he was probably taking a constitutional before his dinner.
+&#8220;Mrs. Chamberlain pressed me to take tea with her,&#8221; she went
+on, by way of saying something, &#8220;but I told her I would rather
+go home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Grace was just ringing for tea when I left,&#8221; he returned.
+&#8220;No wonder you look cold or like a starved robin, Miss Mattie.
+Why are you walking so fast? there is no hurry, is there? I
+think you owe me some amends for keeping me standing for an
+hour in this bitter wind. There! why don&#8217;t you take my arm
+and hold on, or you will be blown away?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mattie always did as she was bidden, and Sir Harry&#8217;s tone
+was a little peremptory. He had been waiting for her, then;
+he had not quite forgotten her. Mattie began to feel a little
+less chilled and numb. If he would only say a kind word to
+her, she thought, she could go away more happily.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am thinking about that rejected cup of tea,&#8221; he said,
+suddenly, when they had walked for a moment in silence: &#8220;it
+will be all cleared away at the vicarage, and you do look so cold,
+Miss Mattie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, not very,&#8221; she corrected.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But I say that you do,&#8221; he persisted, in quite a determined
+manner: &#8220;you are cold, and tired, and miserable,&mdash;there!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&mdash;I am not particularly miserable,&#8221; but there were tears in
+Mattie&#8217;s voice, as she uttered this little fib. &#8220;I don&#8217;t quite like
+going away and saying good-bye to people.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Won&#8217;t your people be kind to you?&#8221; Then changing his
+tone, &#8220;I tell you what, Miss Mattie, no one is in a hurry for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_353' name='page_353'></a>353</span>
+you at home, and I don&#8217;t see why we should not enjoy ourselves.
+You remember my old friend Mrs. Sparsit, who lives up at Rose
+Cottage,&mdash;you know I saved her poodle from drowning one
+rough day, when some boys got hold of it: well, Mrs. Sparsit
+and I are first-rate friends, and I will ask her to give us some
+tea.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no,&#8221; faltered Mattie, quite shocked at this; for what
+would Grace say? &#8220;I only know Mrs. Sparsit a very
+little.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What does that matter?&#8221; returned Sir Harry, obstinately:
+&#8220;I am always dropping in myself for a chat. Now, it is no use
+your making any objection, Miss Mattie, for I have got a lot to
+say to you, and I don&#8217;t mean to part with you yet. They will
+only think you are still at Rock Building, and I suppose you are
+old enough to act without Miss Grace&#8217;s advice sometimes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mattie hung her head without replying to this. What a
+feeble, helpless sort of creature he must think her! his voice
+seemed to express a good-humored sort of contempt. Well, he
+was right; she was old enough to do as she pleased, and she
+would like very much to go with him to Mrs. Sparsit&#8217;s. It was
+rather a reckless proceeding, perhaps; but Mattie was too down
+and miserable to argue it out, so she walked beside Sir Harry in
+a perfectly unresisting manner. Perhaps this was the last time
+she would enjoy his company for a long time: she must make
+the most of it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We need not walk quite so fast,&#8221; he said, checking her, for
+she was hurrying again. &#8220;Look here, Miss Mattie, I want to
+ask you a queer sort of question, if only this confounded wind
+will let me make myself heard. Please don&#8217;t laugh; I don&#8217;t
+want to be laughed at, for I am quite in earnest. But have you
+any special objection to red hair?&mdash;I mean, do you particularly
+dislike it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mattie opened her eyes rather widely at this. &#8220;No, I rather
+like it,&#8221; she returned, without a moment&#8217;s hesitation, and quite
+in the dark as to his possible meaning.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that is all right,&#8221; he returned, cheerfully. &#8220;You won&#8217;t
+believe it, Miss Mattie, but, though I am such a great big fellow,
+I am as bashful as anything; and I have always had a fancy
+that no one would have me because of my red hair.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What an idea!&#8221; observed Mattie, with a little laugh, for
+she thought this so droll, and had not the dimmest idea of his
+real purpose in asking her such a question.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t laugh, please,&#8221; he remonstrated, &#8220;for I am quite
+serious; I never was more serious in my life; for this sort of
+thing is so awkward for a fellow. Then, Miss Mattie, you won&#8217;t
+say &#8216;No&#8217; to me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mattie stared; but Sir Harry&#8217;s face, red and embarrassed as
+it was, gave her no clue to his meaning.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think you understand me,&#8221; he said, a little impatiently;
+&#8220;and yet I am sure I am putting it very plainly. You
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_354' name='page_354'></a>354</span>
+don&#8217;t object to me, do you, Miss Mattie? I am sure I will do
+my best to make you happy. Gilsbank is a pretty place, and
+we shall have Aunt Catherine and the girls near us. We shall
+all be as merry as larks, if you will only promise to marry me,
+for I have liked you from the first; I have indeed, Miss
+Mattie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Sir Harry was a gentleman, in spite of his rough ways. He
+understood in a moment, when Mattie&#8217;s answer to this was
+a very feeble clutch at his arm, as though her strength were
+deserting her. What with the sudden surprise of these words,
+and the force of the wind, the poor little woman felt herself
+reeling.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stand here for a moment, and I will shelter you from the
+wind. No, don&#8217;t speak; just hold on, and keep quiet: there is
+no hurry. No one shall scold you, if I can help it. I am afraid&#8221;&mdash;speaking
+as gently as to a child&mdash;&#8220;that I have been a little
+rough and sudden with you. Do you feel faint? I never saw
+you look so pale. What a thoughtless brute I have been!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&mdash;oh, no,&#8221; panted Mattie; &#8220;only I am so giddy, and&mdash;so
+happy.&#8221; The last words were half whispered, but he caught
+them. &#8220;Are you sure you really mean this, Sir Harry?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;As sure as that the wind blows,&#8221; he returned, cheerfully.
+&#8220;Well, that&#8217;s settled. You and I are to be in the same boat
+for good and all,&mdash;eh, Miss Mattie? Now let us walk on; and
+I won&#8217;t say another word until we reach Mrs. Sparsit&#8217;s.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Perhaps he had taken this resolution because he saw that
+Mattie found speech impossible. Her very footsteps tottered
+as she struggled against the opposing wind. Only the arm on
+which she leaned seemed to give her strength; and yet Mattie
+no longer shivered in the cutting blast. She was no longer cold,
+and numb, and desolate. Something wonderful and incredible
+and altogether unreal had befallen her,&mdash;something that had
+turned her dizzy with happiness, and which she could not in
+the least believe. All she knew was that he had told her that
+no one should scold her now.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Here we are!&#8221; exclaimed Sir Harry, stopping at a trim
+little cottage, with a side-view of the sea; &#8220;and, by Jove, there
+is the poodle himself at the window. How do you do, Mrs.
+Sparsit?&#8221; as a pleasant, wrinkled dame appeared on the
+threshold. &#8220;You know Miss Drummond, I believe? though
+not as well as you know me. How is Popples? Oh, there you
+are, old fellow,&mdash;ready to give me your paw, as usual! Look
+at him, Miss Mattie! Now, Mrs. Sparsit,&#8221; in a coaxing voice,
+&#8220;this lady is dreadfully tired; and I know your kettle is boiling&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; but
+here Mrs. Sparsit interrupted him:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, indeed, Sir Harry; and you shall have some tea
+directly. Dear me, Miss Drummond, you do look poorly, to be
+sure! Let me stir the fire a little, and draw out the couch.
+Bettie has gone out to see her sick mother, Sir Harry; but if
+you don&#8217;t mind my leaving you a minute, while I just brew the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_355' name='page_355'></a>355</span>
+tea&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; And without waiting for his answer, the worthy creature
+bustled off to her tiny kitchen, leaving Popples to entertain
+her guests.</p>
+<p>Sir Harry closed the door, and then he helped Mattie to
+divest herself of her warm jacket, and placed her in a snug
+corner of the old-fashioned couch.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You will be all right directly,&#8221; he said, as he sat down
+beside her. &#8220;The wind was too strong; and I was a little sudden:
+wasn&#8217;t I, Mattie?&#8221; And now the color began to come into
+Mattie&#8217;s face.</p>
+<p>Sir Harry found plenty to tell her as Mrs. Sparsit brewed the
+tea and prepared the hot buttered cakes.</p>
+<p>Mattie shed tears of pure happiness when she heard from his
+own lips how good and unselfish and amiable he thought her,
+and how he had liked her from the first in a sort of way,&mdash;&#8220;not
+quite the right way, you know,&#8221; explained Sir Harry, candidly;
+&#8220;but every one was so hard on you, and you bore it so well,
+and were such a good little woman, that I quite longed to stand
+your friend; and we were friends,&mdash;were we not, Mattie?
+And then somehow it came to me what a nice little wife you
+would make; and so&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; but here Mattie timidly interrupted
+him:</p>
+<p>&#8220;But Grace,&mdash;I thought you liked Grace best!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Sir Harry laughed outright at this; but he had the grace to
+look ashamed of himself:</p>
+<p>&#8220;So I did like her very much; but I was only trying you,
+Mattie. I was not sure how much you liked me; but you
+seemed such a miserable little Cinderella among them all that
+I could hardly keep it up. If they snub you now, they will
+have to answer to me.&#8221; And at this moment Mrs. Sparsit entered
+with the tea-tray.</p>
+<p>Dinner was nearly over at the vicarage when Mattie&#8217;s step
+was heard in the hall. Archie, who was the soul of punctuality,
+frowned a little when the sound reached his ear.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is too bad of Mattie,&#8221; he said, rather fretfully. &#8220;She
+has no right to put us to such inconvenience. I suppose we
+must have the fish up again?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Drummond desires that you will go on with your dinner,
+sir,&#8221; observed the maid, entering at that moment. &#8220;She
+has had a late tea, and will not require anything more.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very strange!&#8221; fumed Archie; but he was a little pacified
+by the message. But Grace slightly elevated her eyebrows with
+an expression of surprise. Such independence was new in
+Mattie.</p>
+<p>The brother and sister had adjourned to the drawing-room,
+and Archie was about to ring for his coffee, before Mattie made
+her appearance.</p>
+<p>Grace uttered a little exclamation when she saw her sister:</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear Mattie, we have no visitors coming in this evening!
+Why have you put on your best gown? You extravagant
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_356' name='page_356'></a>356</span>
+child!&#8221; for Mattie had come into the room rustling in
+her green silk dress, and her little dark face glowing from the
+wind. &#8220;She looked almost pretty,&#8221; as Grace said afterwards;
+but at her sister&#8217;s quizzical observation Mattie blushed and
+seemed confused.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is no use saving it,&#8221; she began. &#8220;Sir Harry is coming in
+by and by. And, oh, Archie! he told me to say it, but I don&#8217;t
+know how to do it.&#8221; And then, to Archie&#8217;s intense surprise,&mdash;for
+she had never done such a thing in her life,&mdash;she suddenly
+threw her arms round his neck. &#8220;Oh, Archie! he says you
+are never to scold me again,&mdash;any of you,&#8221; she sobbed, &#8220;because
+I belong to him now. And he&mdash;Sir Harry, I mean&mdash;is so
+good to me; and I am so happy. And won&#8217;t you wish me joy,
+both of you? And what&mdash;what will mother say?&#8221; finished
+Mattie, as though this were the climax of everything.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good heavens, Mattie!&#8221; gasped Archie; but he did not
+shake her off: on the contrary, he kissed her very kindly. &#8220;Do
+you mean you are going to marry Sir Harry Challoner?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He means to marry me,&#8221; returned Mattie, smiling, in spite
+of her tears; and then Grace came forward, and took her in her
+arms.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am so glad, dear Mattie,&#8221; she whispered, soothingly.
+&#8220;Of course we none of us expected it; and we are all very
+much surprised. Oh, dear! how happy mother will be!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I tell you what,&#8221; exclaimed Archie, in great excitement,
+&#8220;I will take you down myself to Lowder Street, and see
+what she says. They will all be out of their senses with joy;
+and, upon my word, Mattie, I never was so pleased about anything
+in my life. He is a right-down good fellow, I am sure of
+that; and you are not such a bad little thing yourself, Mattie.
+There!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_XLIX_MATTIE_IN_A_NEW_CHARACTER' id='CHAPTER_XLIX_MATTIE_IN_A_NEW_CHARACTER'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLIX.</h2>
+<h3>MATTIE IN A NEW CHARACTER.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>The family at Lowder Street were all gathered together when
+the travellers made their appearance. There was a general
+shout of delight when Archie&#8217;s face peered in at them from the
+dusky hall over Mattie&#8217;s shoulder. Mrs. Drummond&#8217;s thin face
+flushed with the unexpected pleasure.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Archie! my dear boy, I never thought you would surprise
+us in this way!&#8221; she said, throwing down her work with tremulous
+hands. She kissed Mattie affectionately; but that dark glow
+of tenderness in her eyes was for Archie. In spite of her ordinary
+undemonstrativeness, she seldom spoke to him without that
+involuntary softening of her voice. However much she loved
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_357' name='page_357'></a>357</span>
+her other children, her maternal passion was reserved for her
+first-born son.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How naughty of you to steal a march on us in this manner!&#8221;
+she said, playfully. &#8220;We have only prepared a meat-tea
+for Mattie, because I knew she would not mind; but if you
+had telegraphed I would have had dinner ready for you,
+Archie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stuff! nonsense! why need he have telegraphed? I suppose
+what is good enough for Mattie and the rest of us is good
+enough for Archie!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Drummond spoke testily as he put down the paper.
+These hints about the late dinners always nettled him. His
+renunciation of them years ago had been a heavy piece of self-denial,
+for he was a man rather fond of creature comforts; he
+had done it for his children&#8217;s sake; but it was more than flesh
+and blood could bear that this renounced luxury should be
+served for his son&#8217;s benefit. Was he not as good as Archie,
+though he had not been to a University and become fellow of
+his college?</p>
+<p>&#8220;Father is quite right,&#8221; returned Archie, cheerfully. &#8220;I
+would not telegraph, because I wanted to surprise you; and I
+knew you were such a good manager, mother, that you would
+have plenty of aired sheets ready for my bed. Of course what
+is good enough for Mattie is right for me. As we are both as
+hungry as hunters, we shall do justice to anything you have
+prepared.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is only some cold meat and some ham and eggs,&#8221;
+observed Mrs. Drummond, a little plaintively. She did not
+dare anger her husband further by proposing even a chop, for
+she knew how touchy he was about Archie&#8217;s fastidiousness;
+but if she could have had her own way she would have killed
+the fatted calf for this dearest son. Nothing was too good for
+him in her eyes; and yet for the sake of tranquillity she dared
+not even hazard the question of a chop.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Cold meat,&mdash;that is just what I should like,&#8221; replied
+Archie, with excellent <i>sang-froid</i>. He detested that stock-dish
+of the Lowder Street larder, ham and eggs. The eggs were
+dubious, he considered,&mdash;not actually new-laid, but a little suggestive
+of lime. &#8220;But there! you must not give me all your
+attention, mother,&#8221; he continued. &#8220;I have brought Mattie
+home, you see, and you have never told her even how she looks.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She looks very well,&#8221; replied Mrs. Drummond. In spite
+of her anxiety about Archie, she had been looking at her
+daughter more than once with puzzled eyes. There was something
+different about her, she thought. It was hardly like
+Mattie to come in so quietly among them all and take her
+place beside her father. Mattie seldom did anything without
+a fuss: it was her ordinary way to stand among them chattering
+as fast as her tongue would go, until some one reminded
+her that it was time for her to take off her hat and jacket or
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_358' name='page_358'></a>358</span>
+she would be late for tea. But to-night Mattie had hardly
+opened her lips, except to answer her father&#8217;s questions about
+the journey. She had kissed her sisters very quietly, and had
+asked after Isabel, and had then proposed of her own accord to
+go upstairs.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Clara, go up with your sister. No, not Laura; you will all
+get chattering, and then we shall be kept waiting. Isabel is upstairs,
+Archie: she has come in to sit with us this evening, as
+Ellis has to go to a business dinner. He will call for her on his
+way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am very glad she is here,&#8221; returned Archie, &#8220;for I have
+to go back by the early train to-morrow. Ah, there she is.
+Well, how are you, Belle?&#8221; greeting her affectionately as she
+came up to him rather shyly. Archie could hardly help smiling
+at the contrast between Isabel&#8217;s brilliant evening toilet and
+his other sister&#8217;s brown stuff dress. It was a little trying to his
+gravity to see her putting on such pretty little airs of matronly
+dignity. Mrs. Ellis Burton was an important person now;
+that was sufficiently obvious; the plump little figure was most
+lavishly adorned. But the round childish face was certainly
+very pretty; and, as every other sentence brought in &#8220;Ellis,&#8221;
+and as Ellis&#8217;s opinion appeared always right in her eyes, Archie
+deduced that his sister was satisfied with her choice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear, Mattie! how droll it is to see you home again!&#8221;
+exclaimed Susie, who was noted for making awkward speeches.
+&#8220;And how funny you look beside Isabel!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We are very glad to have her back,&#8221; returned Mrs. Drummond,
+in her repressive tones. She was just refilling her teapot
+from the urn, but she found opportunity to shake her head at
+Susie. &#8220;People do not generally look smart in their travelling-dress;
+but I think she looks very nice. Had you not a commoner
+gown, my dear? That looks almost too good for the
+purpose;&#8221; for Mrs. Drummond&#8217;s sense of economy was a little
+shocked by perceiving that Mattie&#8217;s gown was a new one.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is very well made,&#8221; observed Isabel, critically. &#8220;I am
+so glad, Mattie, that you have given up that hideous plaid: it
+never suited you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If I had been you, I would have travelled in it,&#8221; persisted
+Mrs. Drummond, who never could remember that Mattie was
+over thirty and might possibly have opinions of her own.</p>
+<p>Archie listened to all this with great amusement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you think it is about time I started a pleasanter subject,
+Mattie?&#8221; he asked, laughing. &#8220;Have you finished your
+tea, my dear? for I do not want to spoil your appetite; but
+time is getting on, and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; here he glanced at the clock.</p>
+<p>Every one stared at this, for Archie had never spoken in exactly
+that way to Mattie before; and, as he did so, Mattie&#8217;s
+cheeks were burning. But what was their surprise when Archie
+suddenly rose from his seat and laid his hand kindly on Mattie&#8217;s
+shoulder!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_359' name='page_359'></a>359</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;She is too shy to tell you herself; I have come all these
+miles to do it for her. Isabel, you need not look so consequential.
+Ellis is a good fellow, I dare say, but our little Mattie has
+done better for herself than even you. Mother, you have
+achieved a success in one of your seven daughters: let me introduce
+to you the future Lady Challoner!&#8221; And then, still
+keeping his hand upon her shoulder, he looked blandly round
+on them all.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I am sure!&#8221; from Isabel, half pouting; but no one
+else spoke except Mr. Drummond:</p>
+<p>&#8220;What does this mean, Archie? Can&#8217;t you speak for yourself,
+my girl? Is this a joke? Does he mean something amusing?&#8221;
+asked the father; but his lip quivered a little: if it
+should be true,&mdash;if it were no joke!</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is just as Archie says!&#8221; replied Mattie, timidly, not
+daring to raise her eyes. &#8220;Sir Harry asked me to marry him,
+and I said yes, because&mdash;because he was always so good to
+me.&#8221; And here Mattie laughed a little hysterically. &#8220;And
+I did not think you would object, father.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Me object!&#8221; replied Mr. Drummond, oblivious of grammar
+just then. &#8220;Why, my little Mattie, what news is this? Come
+here and kiss me, my girl. I am proud of you; I am delighted
+to think a daughter of mine is going to make such a splendid
+match. Why don&#8217;t you speak to her, my dear?&#8221; addressing
+his wife, with some excitement. &#8220;Bless my soul,&mdash;Lady Challoner,
+my plain little Mattie Lady Challoner! Is it possible?
+Why, you were telling us, Archie, what a Cr&oelig;sus this Sir
+Henry was, and how he had just bought quite a fine place for
+himself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mattie, come here.&#8221; Her children could hardly recognize
+their mother&#8217;s voice, it was so broken, and the tears were running
+down her cheeks, though not one of them remembered seeing
+her cry before. Mattie never felt her triumph greater, never
+understood the magnificence of her own success, until she saw
+those tears, and felt the presence of her mother&#8217;s arms round
+her. Never since the child Mattie had had to make way for the
+new-born brother, and had toddled away with the never-forgotten
+words, &#8220;Mammy&#8217;s arms are full; no room for Mattie now,&#8221;
+had she laid her head upon that mother&#8217;s shoulder to indulge
+in the good cry that was needed to relieve her. Isabel looked almost
+affronted as she twirled her diamond rings round her plump
+fingers. When she and Ellis had been engaged, her mother had
+not made all this fuss. And Mattie was such an old thing; and
+it was so ridiculous; and her father seemed on the verge of crying
+too. &#8220;But then,&#8221; as Susie said afterwards, &#8220;Belle did
+not like her consequence to be set aside; and she and Ellis were
+just nobodies at all.&#8221;</p>
+<p>No one enjoyed the scene so much as Archie: that was how
+his mother ought to be with her girls. Nevertheless, he interrupted
+them ruthlessly:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_360' name='page_360'></a>360</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t make your eyes too red, Mattie: remember who will
+be in by and by.&#8221; And as she started up at this and began to
+smooth her rumpled hair, he explained to them generally that
+they had not travelled alone; Sir Harry had accompanied them
+to Leeds, and was at present dining, he believed at the Star
+Hotel, where he had bespoken a room. &#8220;He thought it best
+to make himself known personally to you; and, as Mattie raised
+no objection, he announced his intention of calling this evening&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; but
+before Archie could finish his sentence, or the awe-struck
+domestic announce him properly, Sir Harry himself was
+among them all, shaking hands with everybody, down to Dottie.</p>
+<p>And, really, for a shy man he did his part very well: he
+seemed to take his welcome for granted, and beamed on them
+all most genially.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose the parson has already introduced me,&#8221; he said,
+when Mr. Drummond senior held out his hand, &#8220;What a lot
+of you there are!&#8221; he continued, as he reached Dottie, who,
+dreadfully frightened at his size, tried to hide behind Susie.
+Dottie compared him in her own mind to one of their favorite
+giants. &#8220;He was so dreadfully like Fee-fo-fum in &#8216;Jack the
+Giant-Killer,&#8217;&#8221; she pouted, when Mattie afterwards took her to
+task, &#8220;when he kissed me I thought he was going to eat me
+up.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mattie&#8217;s dark little face lit up with shy happiness when she
+saw him sit down beside her mother and talk to her in his frank
+pleasant way. In her eyes he was nothing less than an angel
+of light. True, the room had never looked so small and shabby
+as it looked to-night, but what did that matter to Mattie?&mdash;the
+poor little Cinderella in the brown gown had found her prince.
+By and by the pumpkin-coach would fetch her to a grand house,
+she would have jewels and fine clothes,&mdash;everything that the
+heart of woman could desire; but it may be doubted if such
+thoughts ever crossed Mattie&#8217;s mind. That he had chosen her,
+this was the miracle; that she was never to be scolded, and
+laughed at, and teased; that he had stooped to her, this noble,
+great-hearted man, to raise her from her humbleness; that he
+could care for her, in spite of her plainness and her many
+faults. No wonder if such happiness almost beautified Mattie,
+as she sat a little apart, surrounded by her young sisters.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Drummond&#8217;s stern face glowed with pleasure when Sir
+Harry in a few simple words spoke to her of his pride in winning
+her daughter. Could it be her homely, old-fashioned little
+Mattie of whom he was speaking, whose unselfishness and
+goodness he praised so highly! &#8220;I have never known a more
+beautiful nature: she does not seem to me to have an unkind
+thought of any one. All my cousins love her. If you will trust
+her to me, I think I can promise, as far as a man can, that her
+life shall be a happy one.&#8221; No wonder if the mother&#8217;s eyes filled
+with joyous tears at such words as these.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mattie, dear,&#8221; said Sir Harry to her the next day, when they
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_361' name='page_361'></a>361</span>
+found themselves alone,&mdash;a rather difficult thing to achieve in
+the crowded household, but Mrs. Drummond had just left the
+room,&mdash;&#8220;I have been talking to your mother. She is a sensible
+woman, and she thinks in six weeks everything can be ready.
+What do you say?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If mother thinks so, I suppose she is right,&#8221; returned Mattie,
+very much confused by this sudden appeal to her opinion.
+Sir Harry had already importuned for a speedy marriage, and
+she had in much trepidation referred him to her mother, feeling
+herself unequal to the task of answering him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, your mother is a sensible woman,&#8221; continued Sir Harry,
+taking no notice of her confusion. &#8220;She knows that a great
+house full of servants is more than a man can manage alone;
+and so, as I told her that Gilsbank was ready, and its master
+waiting, she was quite of my opinion that there should be no
+delay. You see, Mattie,&#8221; in a tone of great gentleness, &#8220;though
+I am very fond of you, I cannot help feeling stifled in a small
+house full of people. There is no getting you to myself, or being
+comfortable; and a man of my size feels out of place
+among a lot of girls. So if you are willing, as of course you
+are,&#8221; very coaxingly, &#8220;and I am willing, we may as well get
+the thing over. It takes a good deal out of a fellow to go through
+this sort of thing properly, and I don&#8217;t fancy I hit it off well:
+so we will say this day six weeks. And to-morrow you will be
+a good little woman, and let me go back to my comfortable
+quarters at Hadleigh, for one breathes only smoke here; and how
+you have always borne it all these years is a mystery to me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>So Mattie let him go cheerfully. She had never been selfish
+in her life, and of course she spoke no word to dissuade him;
+but, though she had but few letters from him, and those of the
+briefest possible kind,&mdash;for Sir Harry was not fond of penmanship,&mdash;those
+six weeks were far from being unhappy. How
+could they be, when they were all so good to her, Mattie
+thought?&mdash;when her opinion was deferred to even by her mother,
+and when her brothers and sisters treated her with such respect
+and affection?</p>
+<p>Mattie had no sense of the ludicrous, or she would have
+laughed at the change in Clyde&#8217;s tone, or at the way Fred boxed
+Dottie&#8217;s ears for speaking rudely to Mattie: in their eyes the
+future Lady Challoner was a person of the utmost importance.
+The boys vied with each other in waiting on her; the girls were
+always ready with their little services. Mattie felt herself
+almost overwhelmed sometimes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mother, ask them not to do it!&#8221; she said, one day,
+with tears in her eyes. &#8220;I am only Mattie; I am not different;
+I never shall be different. I shall want to wait on you all
+my life,&mdash;on you and all of them!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is for them to wait on you more!&#8221; returned her mother,
+gravely. &#8220;I am afraid they have not always been good to
+you, and they want to make up for it.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_362' name='page_362'></a>362</span></p>
+<p>But not all the attentions she received could move Mattie
+from her own humble estimate of herself; and yet in some
+ways, if she could have seen herself, she would have owned
+there was a difference. Mattie no longer fussed and fidgeted:
+always sweet-natured, she grew placid in her new happiness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I consider myself a fortunate fellow, for I have the dearest
+little wife in the world,&#8221; Sir Harry said to her a few days after
+they were married, when Mattie had, as usual, said something
+disparaging of herself. &#8220;Never mind what you think, so long
+as I am satisfied; and it is very rude of you to be always finding
+fault with my choice,&mdash;ay, Lady Challoner!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='CHAPTER_L_PHILLISS_FAVORITE_MONTH' id='CHAPTER_L_PHILLISS_FAVORITE_MONTH'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER L.</h2>
+<h3>PHILLIS&#8217;S FAVORITE MONTH.</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Archie had been persuaded to remain until the following
+evening, and to take the night mail up to London. &#8220;You know
+you always sleep so soundly in a railway-carriage,&#8221; his mother
+had said, with her eyes full of pleading.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps so; but all the same it is dreary work to be shunted
+on to a platform in the middle of the night, and to have to find
+your way across London to catch a Sussex train.&#8221; But, in
+spite of his grumbling he had remained. For once it was difficult
+to tear himself away from that happy family party.</p>
+<p>But all through that night he scarcely closed his eyes, but sat
+staring at the swinging-lamp and his drowsy fellow-passengers,
+or out into the blank wall of darkness, too wide awake and full
+of thought to lose himself in his usual placid slumbers. The
+fortunes of the Drummond family seemed rising a little, he
+thought, with pleasure. How alert and full of energy his
+father had seemed when he had parted from him at the station!
+he had lost that subdued despondent look that had grown on
+him of late. Even his shoulders were a little less bowed, as
+though the burden did not press quite so heavily.</p>
+<p>&#8220;All this makes a great difference to me, Archie,&#8221; he had
+said, as they had walked to and fro on the platform. &#8220;Two
+such wealthy sons-in-law ought to satisfy any father&#8217;s ambition.
+I can hardly believe yet that my little Mattie&mdash;whom her sisters
+always called &#8216;the old maid&#8217;&mdash;should have secured such a prize.
+If it had been Grace, now, one need not have wondered so
+much.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You may leave Grace out of your reckoning,&#8221; returned
+Archie, smiling assent to this, &#8220;and consider you have three
+out of your seven daughters provided for, for Grace will always
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_363' name='page_363'></a>363</span>
+be my care. Whatever happens in the future, I think I can
+promise as much as that.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ay, ay! I remember when she was a little thing she always
+called herself Archie&#8217;s wife. Well, well, the mother must
+bring on Clara now: it would be a shame to separate you two.
+Look, there is your train, my boy! Jump in, and God bless
+you! You will come down to the wedding of course, and bring
+Grace.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Archie&#8217;s wife.&#8221; It was these two words that were keeping
+him so wide awake in the rushing darkness. A dusky flush
+mounted to the young man&#8217;s forehead as he pondered over
+them.</p>
+<p>He knew himself better now. Only a few weeks, scarcely
+more than a fortnight, had passed since Grace had given him
+that hint; but each day since then had done the work of years.
+Caught at the rebound indeed, and that so securely and
+strongly that the man&#8217;s heart could never waver from its fixed
+purpose again.</p>
+<p>Now it was that he wondered at his blindness; that he began
+to question with a perfect anguish of doubt whether he should
+be too late; whether his vacillation and that useless dream of his
+would hinder the fulfilment of what was now his dearest hope.</p>
+<p>Would he ever bring her to believe that he had never really
+loved before,&mdash;not, at least, as he could love now? Would he
+ever dare to tell her so, when she had known and understood
+that first stray fancy of his for Nan&#8217;s sweet face?</p>
+<p>Now, as day after day he visited the cottage and talked apart
+with her mother, his eyes would follow Phillis wistfully. Once
+the girl had looked up from her work and caught that long,
+watchful glance; and then she had grown suddenly very pale,
+and a pained expression crossed her face, as though she had
+been troubled.</p>
+<p>Since that night when the young vicar had stood bare-headed
+on the snowy steps, and had told Phillis laughingly that one
+day she would find out for herself that all men were masterful,
+and she had run down the steps flashing back that disdainful
+look at him, he had felt there was a change in her manner to
+him.</p>
+<p>They had been such good friends of late; it had become a
+habit with him to turn to Phillis when he wanted sympathy.
+A silent, scarcely perceptible understanding had seemed to draw
+them together; but in one moment, at a word, a mere light jest
+of his that meant nothing, the girl had become all at once reserved,
+frozen up, impenetrable even to friendship.</p>
+<p>In vain he strove to win her back to her old merry talk.
+Her frank recklessness of speech seemed over for the present.
+In his presence she was almost always silent,&mdash;not with any
+awkwardness of embarrassment, but with a certain maidenly
+reserve of bearing, as though she had marked out a particular
+line of conduct for herself.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_364' name='page_364'></a>364</span></p>
+<p>When Grace was in the room, things were better: Phillis
+could not be otherwise than affectionate to her chosen friend.
+And when they were alone together, all Phillis&#8217;s bright playfulness
+seemed to return; but nothing would induce her to cross
+the threshold of the vicarage.</p>
+<p>The evening after his return from Leeds, Archie, as usual,
+dropped in at the Friary; but this time he brought Grace with
+him. They were all gathered in the work-room, which had now
+become their favorite resort. On some pretext or other, the
+lamp had not been brought in; but they were all sitting round
+the fire, chatting in an idle desultory way.</p>
+<p>Phillis was half hidden behind her mother&#8217;s chair: perhaps
+this was the reason why her voice had its old merry chord.
+She had welcomed Archie rather gravely,&mdash;hardly turning her
+face to him as she spoke; but as soon as she was in her corner
+again, she took up the thread of their talk in her usual frank
+way. But it was Grace that she addressed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor dear Harry! We have all been laughing a little at
+the notion of Alcides being in love. Somehow, it seems so
+droll that Mattie should turn out his Deianeira; but, after all,
+I think he has shown very good sense in his choice. Mattie
+will wear well.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You seem to agree with the &#8216;Vicar of Wakefield,&#8217; Miss
+Challoner,&#8221; observed Archie, rather amused at this temperate
+praise. &#8220;Did not that excellent man choose his wife for the
+same reason that she choose her wedding-dress, with a view to
+durability?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, there is a vast amount of wisdom in all that,&#8221; returned
+Phillis, with mock solemnity; for she did not mind what nonsense
+she talked in the darkness. &#8220;If life had nothing but fair-weather
+days, it might be excusable for a man to choose his wife
+for mere beauty; but when one thinks of fogs and east-winds,
+and smoky chimneys, and all such minor evils, they may need
+something a little more sustaining than a pink complexion. At
+least,&#8221; catching herself up, and hurrying on as though the real
+meaning of her words only just occurred to her, &#8220;though Mattie
+may not be beautiful outwardly, she is just the right sort of person
+for a regular east-windy day. Not even a smoky chimney
+and a fog together will put her out of temper.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will recollect your advice when the time comes,&#8221; replied
+Archie rather audaciously at this, as he laughed and stroked
+his beard.</p>
+<p>It pleased him to see the old fun brimming over again, fresh
+and sparkling; but, as he answered her in the same vein of
+pleasantry, she colored up in her dark corner and shrank back
+into herself, and all the rest of the evening he could hardly win
+a smile from her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear, I think Mr. Drummond comes very often,&#8221; Mrs.
+Challoner said to her eldest daughter that night. &#8220;He is very
+gentlemanly, and a most excellent young man: but I begin to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_365' name='page_365'></a>365</span>
+be afraid what these visits mean.&#8221; But Nan only laughed at
+this.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor mother!&#8221; she said, stroking her face. &#8220;Don&#8217;t you
+wish you had us all safe at Glen Cottage again? There are so
+few young men at Oldfield.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I cannot bear young men,&#8221; was the somewhat irritable
+answer. &#8220;What is the use of having children, when just when
+they grow up to be a comfort to you, every one tries to deprive
+you of them? Dick has robbed me of you,&#8221;&mdash;and here Mrs.
+Challoner grew tearful,&mdash;&#8220;and Dulce is always with the Middletons;
+and I am not at all sure that Captain Middleton is not
+beginning to admire her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Neither am I,&#8221; observed Nan, a little gravely; for, though
+they seldom talked of such things among themselves, &#8220;son
+Hammond&#8217;s&#8221; attentions were decidedly conspicuous, and Dulce
+was looking as shy and pretty as possible.</p>
+<p>No; she could not give her mother any comfort there, for the
+solemn-faced young officer was clearly bent on mischief. Indeed,
+both father and son were making much of the little girl.
+But as regarded Mr. Drummond there could be no question of
+his intentions. The growing earnestness, the long wistful looks,
+were not lost on Nan who knew all such signs by experience.
+It was easy to understand the young vicar: it was Phillis who
+baffled her.</p>
+<p>They had never had any secrets between them. From their
+very childhood, Nan had shared Phillis&#8217;s every thought. But
+once or twice when she had tried to approach the subject in the
+gentlest manner, Phillis had started away like a restive colt, and
+had answered her almost with sharpness:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense, Nannie! What is it to me if Mr. Drummond
+comes a dozen times a day?&#8221; arching her long neck in the
+proudest way, but her throat contracting a little over the uttered
+falsehood; for she knew, none better, what these visits were to
+her. &#8220;Do you think I should take the trouble to investigate
+his motives? Don&#8217;t you know, Nan,&#8221; in her sweet whimsical
+voice, &#8220;that the masculine mind loves to conjugate the verb &#8216;to
+amuse&#8217;? Mr. Drummond is evidently bored by his own company;
+but there! the vagaries of men are innumerable. One
+might as well question the ebbing tide as inquire of these young
+divinities the reason of all their eccentric actions. He comes
+because we amuse him, and we like to see him because he
+amuses us: and when he bores us, we can tell him so, which is
+better than Canute and the waves, after all.&#8221; And of course,
+after this, Nan was compelled to drop the subject.</p>
+<p>But she watched Phillis anxiously; for she saw that the girl
+was restless and ill at ease. The thoughtful gray eyes had a
+shadow in them. The bright spirits were quenched, and only
+kindled by a great effort; and, as the time for their leaving
+the Friary grew closer day by day, until the last week approached,
+she flagged more, and the shadow grew deeper.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_366' name='page_366'></a>366</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;If he would only speak and end all this suspense!&#8221; thought
+Nan, who knew nothing of the real state of things, and imagined
+that Mr. Drummond had cared for Phillis from the
+first.</p>
+<p>They had already commenced their packing. Sir Harry was
+back in his hotel, solacing himself with his cousin&#8217;s company,
+and writing brief letters to his homely little bride-elect, when
+one fine afternoon he met them and Grace just starting for the
+shore.</p>
+<p>This was their programme on most afternoons, and of course
+they had not gone far before Captain Middleton and his father
+and sister joined them; and a little later on, just as they were
+entering the town, they overtook Mr. Drummond.</p>
+<p>Phillis nodded to him in a friendly manner, and then walked
+on with Grace, taking no further notice; but when they were
+on the shore, admiring the fine sunset effect, Grace quietly
+dropped her arm and slipped away to join the others. Phillis
+stood motionless: her eyes were riveted on the grand expanse
+of sky and ocean. &#8220;It is so like life,&#8221; she said at last, not seeing
+who stood beside her, while all the others were walking on
+in groups of twos and threes, Dulce close to the colonel, as
+usual. &#8220;Do you see those little boats, Grace? one is sailing so
+smoothly in the sunlight, and the other scarcely stirring in the
+shadow,&mdash;brightness to some, you see, and shade to others; and
+beyond, that clear line of light, like the promise of eternity.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you think it lies within most people&#8217;s power to make
+their own lives happier?&#8221; returned Archie so quietly to this
+that she scarcely started. &#8220;The sunshine and shade are more
+evenly balanced than we know. To be sure, there are some
+lives like that day that is neither clear nor dark,&mdash;gray,
+monotonous lives, with few breaks and pleasures in them. But
+perhaps even that question may be happily solved when one
+looks out a little farther to the light beyond.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, if one does not grow tired of waiting for the answer,&#8221;
+she said, a little dreamily. &#8220;There is so much that cannot be
+clear here.&#8221; And then she roused with a little difficulty from
+her abstraction, and looked around her. The others had all
+gone on: they were standing alone on the shingly beach, just
+above a little strip of yellow sand,&mdash;only they two. Was it for
+this reason that her eyes grew wide and troubled, and she moved
+away rather hurriedly? But he still kept close to her, talking
+quietly as he did so.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you remember this place?&#8221; he said: &#8220;it reminds me
+of a picture I once saw. I think it was &#8216;Atalanta&#8217;s Race,&#8217; only
+there was no Paris. It was just such as scene as this: there
+was the dark breakwater, and the long line of surf breaking on
+the shore, and the sun was shining on the water; and there
+was a girl running with her head erect, and she scarcely seemed
+to touch the ground, and she stopped just here,&#8221; resting his
+hand on the black, shiny timber.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_367' name='page_367'></a>367</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Do not,&#8221; she answered, in a low voice, &#8220;do not recall that
+day: it stings me even now to remember it.&#8221; And as the
+words &#8220;Bravo Atalanta!&#8221; recurred to her memory, the hot
+blush of shame mounted to her face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have no need to recall it,&#8221; he returned, still more quietly,
+for her discomposure was great, &#8220;for I have never forgotten
+it. Yes, this is the place, not where I first saw you, but where
+I first began to know you. Phillis, that knowledge is becoming
+everything to me now!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do not,&#8221; she said, again, but she could hardly bring out the
+words. But how wonderful it was to hear her name pronounced
+like that! &#8220;The others have gone on: we must join
+them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;May I not tell you what I think about you first?&#8221; he asked,
+very gently.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not now,&mdash;not yet,&#8221; she almost whispered; and now he
+saw that she was very pale, and her eyes were full of tears.
+&#8220;I could not bear it yet.&#8221; And then, as she moved farther
+away from him, he could see how great was her agitation.</p>
+<p>It was a proof of his love and earnestness that he suffered
+the girl to leave him in this way, that he did not again rejoin
+her until they were close to the others. In spite of his impatience
+and his many faults, he was generous enough to understand
+her without another word. She had not repelled him;
+she had not silenced him entirely; she had not listened to
+him and then answered him with scorn. On the contrary,
+her manner had been soft and subdued, more winning than he
+had ever known it; and yet she had refused to hearken to his
+suit. &#8220;Not now,&mdash;not yet,&#8221; she had said, and he could see
+that her lip quivered, and her beautiful eyes were full of tears.
+It was too soon, that was what she meant; too soon for him
+to speak and for her to listen. She owed it to her own dignity
+that his affection should be put to greater proof than that.
+She must not be so lightly won; she must not stoop down
+from her maidenly pride and nobleness at his first words because
+she had grown to care for him. &#8220;It must not be so,
+however much the denial may cost me,&#8221; Phillis had said to
+herself. But as she joined the others, and came to Nan&#8217;s side,
+she could scarcely steady her voice or raise her eyes, for fear
+their shy consciousness would betray her. &#8220;At last,&#8221; and &#8220;at
+last!&#8221;&mdash;that was the refrain that was ringing so joyously in her
+heart. Well, and one day he should tell her what he would.</p>
+<p>She thought she had silenced him entirely, but she forgot that
+men were masterful and had cunning ways of their own to
+compass their ends. Archie had recovered his courage; he
+had still a word to say, and he meant to say it; and just before
+the close of the walk, as they were in the darkest part of the
+Braidwood Road, just where the trees meet overhead, before
+one reaches the vicarage, Phillis found him again at her side.</p>
+<p>&#8220;When may I hope that you will listen?&#8221; he said. &#8220;I am
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_368' name='page_368'></a>368</span>
+not a patient man: you must remember that, and not make it
+too hard for me. I should wish to know how soon I may come.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Spring is very beautiful in the country,&#8221; she answered,
+almost too confused by this unexpected address to know what
+she was saying. &#8220;I think May is my favorite month, when
+the hawthorns are out.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, I will come in May.&#8221; And then Phillis woke
+up to the perception of what she had said. &#8220;Oh, no, I did not
+meant that,&#8221; she began, incoherently; but this time it was
+Archie who moved away, with a smile on his face and a certain
+vivid brightness in his eyes, and her stammered words were
+lost in the darkness.</p>
+<p>The whole week was much occupied by paying farewell
+visits. On the last afternoon Phillis went down to the White
+House to say good-bye. It was one of Magdalene&#8217;s bad days;
+but the unquiet hour had passed, and left her, as usual, weak
+and subdued. Her husband was sitting beside her: as Phillis
+entered he rose with a smile on his lips. &#8220;That is right,
+Miss Challoner!&#8221; he said, heartily. &#8220;Magdalene always looks
+better the moment she hears your voice. Barby is unfortunately
+out, but I can leave her happily with you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is he not good?&#8221; exclaimed his wife, as soon as he had left
+them. &#8220;He has been sitting with me all the afternoon, my
+poor Herbert, trying to curb his restlessness, because he knows
+how much worse I am without him. Am I not a trying wife to
+him? and yet he says he could not do without me. There, it
+has passed: let us talk of something else. And so you are going
+to leave us?&#8221; drawing the fresh face down to hers, that she
+might kiss it again.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, to-morrow!&#8221; trying to stifle a sigh.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There are some of us that will not know what to do without
+you. If I am not very much mistaken, there is one person
+who&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; but here the girl laid her hand hurriedly on her lips.
+&#8220;What! I am not to say that? Well, I will try to be good.
+But all the same this is not good-bye. Tell your mother from
+me that she will not have her girls for long. Captain Middleton
+has lost his heart, and is bent on making that pretty little sister
+of yours lose hers to; and as for you, Phillis&#8211;&#8211;&#8221; but here Phillis
+stooped, and silenced her this time by a kiss.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, well!&#8221; continued Magdalene, after a moment&#8217;s silence,
+as she looked tenderly into the fair face before her; &#8220;so you
+have finished your little bit of play-work, and are going back
+into your young-ladyhood again?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was not play-work!&#8221; returned Phillis, indignantly: &#8220;you
+say that to provoke me. Do you know,&#8221; she went on, earnestly,
+&#8220;that if we should have had to work all our lives as
+dressmakers, Nan and I would have done it, and never given
+in. We were making quite a fine business of it. We had more
+orders then we could execute; and you call that play? Confess,
+now, that you repent of that phrase!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_369' name='page_369'></a>369</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I was only teasing you,&#8221; returned Magdalene, smiling.
+&#8220;I know how brave you were, and how terribly in earnest. Yes,
+Phillis, you are right; nothing would have daunted you; you
+would have worked without complaint all your life long, but
+for that red-haired Alcides of yours.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear Harry! how much we owe to him!&#8221; exclaimed Phillis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, dear, you will owe your happiness to yourself,&mdash;the
+happiness,&#8221; as the girl looked at her in surprise, &#8220;that is coming
+to you and Dulce. It was because you were not like other
+girls&mdash;because you were brave, self-reliant gentlewomen, afraid
+of nothing but dishonor; not fearful of small indignities, or of
+other people&#8217;s opinions, but just taking up the work that lay
+to your hands, and going through with it&mdash;that you have won
+his heart: and, seeing this, how could he help loving you as he
+does?&#8221; But to this Phillis made no answer.</p>
+<p>The next day was rather trying to them all. Phillis&#8217;s cheerfulness
+was a little forced, and for some time after they had left
+the Friary&mdash;with Grace and Archie waving their farewells
+from the road&mdash;she was very silent.</p>
+<p>But no sooner had they crossed the threshold of Glen Cottage
+than their girlhood asserted itself. The sight of the bright
+snug rooms, with their new furniture, the conservatory, with
+its floral treasures, and Sir Harry&#8217;s cheery welcome, as he
+stood in the porch with Mrs. Mayne, was too much even for
+Phillis&#8217;s equanimity. In a few minutes their laughing faces
+were peering out of every window and into every cupboard.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, the dear, beautiful home! Isn&#8217;t it lovely of Harry to
+bring us back!&#8221; cried Phillis, oblivious of everything at that
+moment but her mother&#8217;s satisfied face.</p>
+<p>In a few days they had settled down into their old life. It was
+too early for tennis while snowdrops and crocuses were peeping
+out of the garden borders. But in the afternoon friends dropped
+in in the old way, and gathered round the Challoner tea-table;
+and very soon&mdash;for Easter fell early that year&mdash;Dick showed
+himself among them, and then, indeed, Nan&#8217;s cup of happiness
+was full.</p>
+<p>But as April passed on Phillis began to grow a little silent
+again; and it became a habit with her to coax Laddie to take
+long walks with her, when Nan and Dulce were otherwise engaged.
+The exercise seemed to quiet her restlessness; and the
+spring sights and sounds, the budding hedgerows, and the
+twittering of the birds as they built their nests, and the fresh
+leafy green, unsoiled by summer heat and dust, seemed to refresh
+her flagging spirits.</p>
+<p>It was the 1st of May, when one afternoon she called to Laddie,
+who was lying drowsily in the sunny porch. Nan, who
+was busily engaged in training the creeper round the pillars of
+the veranda, looked up in a little surprise:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you going out again, Phil? And neither Dulce nor I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_370' name='page_370'></a>370</span>
+can come with you. Mrs. Mayne has some friends coming to
+five-o&#8217;clock tea, and she wants us to go over for an hour.
+It is so dull for you, dear, always to walk alone.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh no; I shall not be dull, Nannie,&#8221; returned Phillis, with
+an unsteady smile, for her spirits were a little fluctuating that
+afternoon. &#8220;I am restless, and want a good walk: so I shall
+just go to Sandy Lane, and be back in time to make tea for
+mother.&#8221; And then she waved her hand, and whistled to Laddie
+as she unlatched the little gate. It was a long walk. But, as
+usual, the quiet and the sweet air refreshed her, and by the
+time she reached Sandy Lane her eyes were brilliant with exercise,
+and a pretty pink tinge of color was in her cheeks. It is
+May-day,&mdash;the 1st of May. I wonder how soon he will come,
+she thought, as she leaned on the little gate where poor Dick had
+leaned that day.</p>
+<p>There were footsteps approaching, but they made no sound
+over the sandy ruts. A tall man, with a fair beard and a clerical
+felt hat, was walking quickly up the road that leads from
+Oldfield; and as he walked his eyes were scanning the path before
+him, as though he were looking for some one. At the sight
+of the girl leaning against the gate his face brightened, and he
+slackened his steps a little, that he might not startle her. She
+was looking out across the country with a far-off, dreamy expression,
+and did not turn her head as he approached. It was
+Laddie who saw him first, and jumped up with a joyous bark
+to welcome him; and then she looked round, and for a moment
+her eyes grew wide and misty, for she thought it was a continuation
+of her dream.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Laddie saw me first,&#8221; he said, stepping up quietly to her
+side,&mdash;for he still feared to startle her,&mdash;and his voice was very
+gentle. &#8220;Phillis, you must not look so surprised! Surely you
+expected me? It is the 1st of May!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I knew that,&#8221; she said; and then she turned away from
+him. But he had not dropped her hand, but was holding it
+very quietly and firmly. &#8220;But I could not tell the day;
+and&#8211;&#8211;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did you think I should wait an hour beyond the time you
+fixed?&#8221; he answered, very calmly. &#8220;May is your favorite
+month; and what could be more beautiful than May-day for
+the purpose I have in hand! Phillis, you will not go back from
+your promise now? You said you would listen to me in May.&#8221;</p>
+<p>There was no answer to this; but, as Archie looked in her
+face, he read no repulse there. And so, in that quiet lane, with
+Laddie lying at their feet, he told all he had to tell.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you sure you can trust me now, Phillis?&#8221; he asked,
+rather wistfully, when he had finished. &#8220;You know what I
+am, dear&mdash;a man with many faults.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; now and forever,&#8221; she answered, without a moment&#8217;s
+hesitation. &#8220;I am not afraid&mdash;I never should have been afraid
+to trust you, I have faults of my own: so why should I wish
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_371' name='page_371'></a>371</span>
+you to be perfect? I care for you as you are; you will believe
+that?&#8221; for there was almost a sad humility in his face as he
+pleaded with her that went to her heart.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; I believe what you tell me. You are truth itself,
+my darling,&mdash;the bravest and truest woman I have ever met.
+You do not know how happy you have made me, or how different
+my life will be when I have you by my side. Phillis, do you know
+how glad Grace will be about this?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will she?&#8221; returned Phillis, shyly. They were walking homeward
+now, hand in hand toward the sunset,&mdash;so, at least, it seemed
+to the girl. No one was in sight, only the quiet country round
+them bathed in the evening light, and they two alone. &#8220;Archie!&#8221;
+she exclaimed, suddenly, and her beautiful eyes grew wistful all
+at once, &#8220;you will not let this make any difference to Grace? She
+loves you so; and you are all she has at present. You must never
+let me stand between you two. I am not so selfish as that.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You could not be selfish if you tried, dearest. How I wish
+Grace could have heard you! No; you are right. We must not
+let her suffer from our happiness. But, Phillis, you know who
+must come first now.&#8221; And then, as she smiled in full understanding,
+he put her hand upon his arm, and held it there. His promised
+wife,&mdash;Archie&#8217;s wife! Ah, the Drummond star was rising now in
+earnest! His life lay before him, like the road they were now
+entering, white and untrodden and bathed in the sunlight. What
+if some clouds should come, and some shadows fall, if they might
+tread it together to the end? And so, growing silent with happiness,
+they walked home through the sunset, till the spring dusk
+and the village lights saw them standing together on the threshold
+of Glen Cottage, and the dear faces and loving voices of home
+closed around them and bade them welcome.</p>
+<h3>THE END</h3>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-370.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 400px; height: 693px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-371.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 395px; height: 678px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-372.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 418px; height: 696px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-373.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 423px; height: 694px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-374.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 436px; height: 703px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-375.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 401px; height: 698px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-376.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 407px; height: 695px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-377.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 403px; height: 697px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-378.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 414px; height: 639px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-379.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 423px; height: 693px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-380.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 401px; height: 699px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-381.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 399px; height: 695px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-382.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 417px; height: 699px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-383.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 403px; height: 691px;' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/nlog-384.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 400px; height: 672px;' /><br />
+</div>
+
+<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 0.21a -->
+<!-- timestamp: Mon Mar 30 15:15:42 -0600 2009 -->
+
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+<pre>
+
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+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Not Like Other Girls, by Rosa N. Carey
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+</pre>
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+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Not Like Other Girls, by Rosa N. Carey
+
+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: Not Like Other Girls
+
+Author: Rosa N. Carey
+
+Release Date: March 31, 2009 [EBook #28463]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS
+
+BY
+
+ROSA N. CAREY
+
+AUTHOR OF
+
+"Aunt Diana," "Averil," "Lover or Friend," "Merle's Crusade,"
+"Esther," "Mary St. John," "Queenie's Whim," "We Wifie," Etc., Etc.
+
+CHICAGO
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY
+
+407-429 Dearborn Street
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+M.A. DONOHUE & CO.
+CHICAGO.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+  CHAPTER                                                         PAGE
+       I. Five-o'clock Tea.                                          7
+      II. Dick objects to the Mountains.                            14
+     III. Mr. Mayne makes Himself Disagreeable.                     22
+      IV. Dick's Fete.                                              28
+       V. "I am Quite Sure of Him."                                 35
+      VI. Mr. Trinder's Visit.                                      41
+     VII. Phillis's Catechism.                                      48
+    VIII. "We should have to carry Parcels."                        55
+      IX. A Long Day.                                               62
+       X. The Friary.                                               68
+      XI. "Tell us all about it, Nan."                              77
+     XII. "Laddie" puts in an Appearance.                           85
+    XIII. "I must have Grace."                                      91
+     XIV. "You can dare to tell me These Things."                   99
+      XV. A Van in the Braidwood Road.                             108
+     XVI. A Visit to the White House.                              118
+    XVII. "A Friend in Need."                                      124
+   XVIII. Dorothy brings in the Best China.                        132
+     XIX. Archie is in a Bad Humor.                                139
+      XX. "You are Romantic."                                      147
+     XXI. Breaking the Peace.                                      154
+    XXII. "Trimmings, not Squails."                                162
+   XXIII. "Bravo, Atalanta!"                                       167
+    XXIV. Mothers are Mothers.                                     174
+     XXV. Mattie's New Dress.                                      181
+    XXVI. "Oh, You are Proud!"                                     189
+   XXVII. A Dark Hour.                                             196
+  XXVIII. The Mysterious Stranger.                                 202
+    XXIX. Mrs. Williams's Lodger.                                  210
+     XXX. "Now we understand Each Other."                          219
+    XXXI. Dick thinks of the City.                                 226
+   XXXII. "Dick is to be our Real Brother."                        232
+  XXXIII. "This is Life and Death to Me."                          240
+   XXXIV. Miss Mewlstone has an Interruption.                      248
+    XXXV. "Barby, don't You recollect Me?"                         255
+   XXXVI. Motes in the Sunshine.                                   262
+  XXXVII. "A Man has a Right to His Own Thoughts."                 268
+ XXXVIII. About Nothing Particular.                                277
+   XXXIX. "How do you do, Aunt Catherine?"                         283
+      XL. Alcides.                                                 292
+     XLI. Sir Harry Bides his Time.                                299
+    XLII. "Come, now, I call that Hard."                           307
+   XLIII. "I will write no such Letter."                           315
+    XLIV. Mr. Mayne orders a Basin of Gruel.                       321
+     XLV. An Uninvited Guest.                                      328
+    XLVI. A New Invasion of the Goths.                             336
+   XLVII. "It was so Good of You to ask me Here."                  343
+  XLVIII. Mrs. Sparsit's Poodle.                                   349
+    XLIX. Mattie in a New Character.                               356
+       L. Phillis's Favorite Month.                                362
+
+
+
+
+NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA.
+
+
+Five-o'clock tea was a great institution in Oldfield.
+
+It was a form of refreshment to which the female inhabitants of that
+delightful place were strongly addicted. In vain did Dr. Weatherby,
+the great authority in all that concerned the health of the
+neighborhood, lift up his voice against the mild feminine
+dram-drinking of these modern days, denouncing it in no measured
+terms: the ladies of Oldfield listened incredulously, and, softly
+quoting Cowper's lines as to the "cup that cheers and not inebriates,"
+still presided over their dainty little tea-tables, and vied with one
+another in the beauty of their china and the flavor of their
+highly-scented Pekoe.
+
+In spite of Dr. Weatherby's sneers and innuendoes, a great deal of
+valuable time was spent in lingering in one or another of the pleasant
+drawing-rooms of the place. As the magic hour approached, people
+dropped in casually. The elder ladies sipped their tea and gossiped
+softly; the younger ones, if it were summer-time, strolled out through
+the open windows into the garden. Most of the houses had
+tennis-grounds, and it was quite an understood thing that a game
+should be played before they separated.
+
+With some few exceptions, the inhabitants of Oldfield were wealthy
+people. Handsome houses standing in their own grounds were dotted here
+and there among the lanes and country roads. Some of the big houses
+belonged to very big people indeed; but these were aristocrats who
+only lived in their country houses a few months in the year, and whose
+presence added more to the dignity than to the hilarity of the
+neighborhood.
+
+With these exceptions, the Oldfield people were highly gregarious and
+hospitable; in spite of a few peculiarities, they had their good
+points; a great deal of gossip prevailed, but it was in the main
+harmless and good-natured. There was a wonderful simplicity of dress,
+too, which in these days might be termed a cardinal virtue. The girls
+wore their fresh cambrics and plain straw hats: no one seemed to
+think it necessary to put on smart clothing when they wished to visit
+their friends. People said this Arcadian simplicity was just as
+studied: nevertheless, it showed perfection of taste and a just
+appreciation of things.
+
+The house that was considered the most attractive in Oldfield, and
+where, on summer afternoons, the sound of youthful voices and laughter
+were the loudest, was Glen Cottage, a small white house adjoining the
+long village street, belonging to a certain Mrs. Challoner, who lived
+here with her three daughters.
+
+This may be accounted strange in the first instance, since the
+Challoners were people of the most limited income,--an income so small
+that nothing but the most modest of entertainments could be furnished
+to their friends; very different from their neighbors at Longmead, the
+large white house adjoining, where sumptuous dinners and regular
+evening parties were given in the dark days when pleasures were few
+and tennis impossible.
+
+People said it was very good-natured of the Maynes; but then when
+there is an only child in the case, an honest, pleasure-loving, gay
+young fellow, on whom his parents dote, what is it they will not do to
+please their own flesh and blood? and, as young Richard Mayne--or
+Dick, as he was always called--loved all such festive gatherings, Mrs.
+Mayne loved them too; and her husband tried to persuade himself that
+his tastes lay in the same direction, only reserving certain groans
+for private use, that Dick could not be happy without a houseful of
+young people.
+
+But no such entertainments were possible at Glen Cottage:
+nevertheless, the youth of the neighborhood flocked eagerly into the
+pleasant drawing-room where Mrs. Challoner sat tranquilly summer and
+winter to welcome her friends, or betook themselves through the open
+French windows into the old-fashioned garden, in which mother and
+daughters took such pride.
+
+On hot afternoons the tea-table was spread under an acacia-tree, low
+wicker-chairs were brought out, and rugs spread on the lawn, and Nan
+and her sisters dispensed strawberries and cream, with the delicious
+home-made bread and butter; while Mrs. Challoner sat among a few
+chosen spirits knitting and talking in her pleasant low-toned voice,
+quite content that the burden of responsibility should rest upon her
+daughters.
+
+Mrs. Challoner always smiled when people told her that she ought to be
+proud of her girls. No daughters were ever so much to their mother as
+hers; she simply lived in and for them; she saw with their eyes,
+thought with their thoughts,--was hardly herself at all, but Nan and
+Phillis and Dulce, each by turns.
+
+Long ago they had grown up to her growth. Mrs. Challoner's nature was
+hardly a self-sufficing one. During her husband's lifetime she had
+been braced by his influence and cheered by his example, and had
+sought to guide her children according to his directions; in a word,
+his manly strength had so supported her that no one, not even her
+shrewd young daughters, guessed at the interior weakness.
+
+When her stay was removed, Mrs. Challoner ceased to guide, and came
+down to her children's level. She was more like their sister than
+their mother, people said; and yet no mother was more cherished than
+she.
+
+Her very weakness made her sacred in her daughters' eyes; her
+widowhood, and a certain failure of health, made her the subject of
+their choicest care.
+
+It could not be said that there was much amiss, but years ago a doctor
+whom Mrs. Challoner had consulted had looked grave, and mentioned the
+name of a disease of which certain symptoms reminded him. There was no
+ground for present apprehension; the whole thing was very shadowy and
+unsubstantial,--a mere hint,--a question of care; nevertheless the
+word had been said, and the mischief done.
+
+From that time Mrs. Challoner was wont to speak gloomily of her
+health, as of one doomed. She was by nature languid and lymphatic, but
+now her languor increased; always averse to effort, she now left all
+action to her daughters. It was they who decided and regulated the
+affairs of their modest household, and rarely were such wise young
+rulers to be found in girls of their age. Mrs. Challoner merely
+acquiesced, for in Glen Cottage there was seldom a dissentient voice,
+unless it were that of Dorothy, who had been Dulce's nurse, and took
+upon herself the airs of an old servant who could not be replaced.
+
+They were all pretty girls, the three Misses Challoner, but Nan was
+_par excellence_ the prettiest. No one could deny that fact who saw
+them together. Her features were more regular than her sisters', and
+her color more transparent. She was tall too, and her figure had a
+certain willowy grace that was most uncommon; but what attracted
+people most was a frankness and unconsciousness of manner that was
+perfectly charming.
+
+Phillis, the second sister, was not absolutely pretty, perhaps, but
+she was nice-looking, and there was something in her expression that
+made people say she was clever; she could talk on occasions with a
+fluency that was quite surprising, and that would cast Nan into the
+shade. "If I were only as clever as Phillis!" Nan would sigh.
+
+Then there was Dulce, who was only just eighteen, and whom her sisters
+treated as the family pet; who was light and small and nimble in her
+movements, and looked even younger than she really was.
+
+Nobody ever noticed if Dulce were pretty; and one questioned if her
+features were regular or not, or cared to do such a thing. Only when
+she smiled, the prettiest dimple came into her cheek, and her eyes had
+a fearless child-like look in them; for the rest, she was just Dulce.
+
+The good-looking daughters of a good-looking mother, as somebody
+called them; and there was no denying Mrs. Challoner was still
+wonderfully well preserved, and, in spite of her languor and invalid
+airs, a very pretty woman.
+
+Five-o'clock tea had long been over at the cottage this afternoon, and
+a somewhat lengthy game of tennis had followed; after which the
+visitors had dispersed as usual, and the girls had come in to prepare
+for the half-past seven-o'clock dinner; for Glen Cottage followed the
+fashion of its richer neighbors, and set out its frugal meal with a
+proper accompaniment of flower-vases and evening toilet.
+
+The three sisters came up the lawn together, but Nan carried her
+racquet a little languidly; she looked a trifle grave.
+
+Mrs. Challoner laid down her knitting and looked at them, and then she
+regarded her watch plaintively.
+
+"Is it late, mother?" asked Nan, who never missed any of her mother's
+movements. "Ten minutes past seven! No wonder the afternoon seemed
+long."
+
+"No one found it long but Nan," observed Dulce, with an arch glance at
+her sister at which Nan slightly colored, but took no further notice.
+"By the bye," she continued, as though struck by a sudden
+recollection, "what can have become of Dick this afternoon? he so
+seldom fails us without telling us beforehand."
+
+"That will soon be explained," observed Phillis, oracularly, as the
+gate-bell sounded, and was immediately followed by sharp footsteps on
+the gravel and the unceremonious entrance of a young man through the
+open window.
+
+"Better late than never," exclaimed two of the girls. Nan said, "Why,
+what has made you play truant, Dick?" in a slightly injured voice. But
+Mrs. Challoner merely smiled at him, and said nothing; young men were
+her natural enemies, and she knew it. She was civil to them and
+endured their company, and that was all.
+
+Dick Mayne was not a formidable-looking individual; he was a strong,
+thick-set young fellow, with broad shoulders, not much above middle
+height, and decidedly plain, except in his mother's eyes; and she
+thought even Dick's sandy hair beautiful.
+
+But in spite of his plainness he was a pleasant, well-bred young
+fellow, with a fund of good humor and drollery, and a pair of honest
+eyes that people learned to trust. Every one liked him, and no one
+ever said a word in his dispraise; and for the rest, he could
+tyrannize as royally as any other young man who is his family's sole
+blessing.
+
+"It was all my ill luck," grumbled Dick. "Trevanion of Exeter came
+over to our place, and of course the mater pressed him to stay for
+luncheon, and then nothing would do but a long walk over Hillberry
+Downs."
+
+"Why did you not bring him here?" interrupted Dulce, with a pout. "You
+tiresome Dick, when you must know what a godsend a strange young man
+is in these wilds!"
+
+"My dear!" reproved her mother.
+
+"Oh, but it is true, mamma," persisted the outspoken Dulce. "Think how
+pleased Carrie and Sophy Paine would have been at the sight of a fresh
+face! it was horrid of you, sir!"
+
+"I wanted him to come," returned the young man, in a deprecating
+voice. "I told him how awfully jolly it always is here, and that he
+would be sure to meet a lot of nice people, but there was no
+persuading him: he wanted a walk and a talk about our fellows. That is
+the worst of Trevanion, he always will have his own way."
+
+"Never mind," returned Nan, pleasantly; she seemed to have recovered
+her sprightliness all at once. "It is very good of you to come so
+often; and we had Mr. Parker and his cousin to look after the
+Paines."
+
+"Oh, yes! we did very well," observed Phillis, tranquilly. "Mother,
+now Dick has come so late, he had better stay."
+
+"If I only may do so?" returned Dick; but his inquiry was directed to
+Nan.
+
+"Oh, yes, you may stay," she remarked, carelessly, as she moved away;
+but there was a little pleased smile on her face that he failed to
+see. She nodded pleasantly to him as he darted forward to open the
+door. It was Nan who always dispensed the hospitalities of the house,
+whose decision was unalterable. Dick had learned what it was to be
+sent about his business; only once had he dared to remain without her
+sovereign permission, and on that occasion he had been treated by her
+with such dignified politeness that he would rather have been sent to
+Coventry.
+
+This evening the fates were propitious, and Dick understood that the
+sceptre of favor was to be extended to him. When the girls had flitted
+into the little dusky hall he closed the door, and sat down happily
+bedside Mrs. Challoner, to whom he descanted eloquently of the
+beauties of Hilberry and the virtues of Ned Trevanion.
+
+Mrs. Challoner listened placidly as the knitting-needles flashed
+between her long white fingers. She was very fond of Dick, after her
+temperate fashion; she had known him from a child, and had seen him
+grow up among them until he had become like a son of the house. Dick,
+who had no brothers and sisters of his own, and whose parents had not
+married until they were long past youth, had adopted brotherly airs
+with the Challoner girls; they called each other by their Christian
+names, and he reposed in them the confidences that young men are wont
+to give to their belongings.
+
+With Nan this easy familiarity had of late merged into something
+different: a reserve, a timidity, a subtile suspicion of change had
+crept into their intimacy. Nan felt that Dick's manner had altered,
+but somehow she liked it better: his was always a sweet bountiful
+nature, but now it seemed to have deepened into greater manliness.
+Dick was growing older; Oxford training was polishing him. After each
+one of his brief absences Nan saw a greater change, a more marked
+deference, and secretly hoped that no one else noticed it. When the
+young undergraduate wrote dutiful letters home the longest messages
+were always for Nan; when he carried little offerings of flowers to
+his young neighbors, Nan's bouquet was always the choicest; he
+distinguished her, too, on all occasions by those small nameless
+attentions which never fail to please.
+
+Nan kept her own counsel, and never spoke of these things. She said
+openly that Dick was very nice and very much improved, and that they
+always missed him sadly during the Oxford terms; but she never
+breathed a syllable that might make people suspect that this very
+ordinary young man with the sandy hair was more to her than other
+young men. Nevertheless Phillis and Dulce knew that such was the case,
+and Mrs. Challoner understood that the most dangerous enemy to her
+peace was this lively-spoken Dick.
+
+Dick was very amusing, for he was an eloquent young fellow:
+nevertheless Mrs. Challoner sighed more than once, and her attention
+visibly wandered; seeing which, Dick good-humoredly left off talking,
+and began inspecting the different articles in Nan's work-basket.
+
+"I am afraid I have given your mother a headache," he said when they
+were sitting round the circular table in the low, oddly-shaped
+dining-room. There was a corner cut off, and the windows were in
+unexpected places, which made it unlike other rooms; but Dick loved it
+better than the great dining-room at Longmead; and somehow it never
+had looked cosier to him than it did this evening. It was somewhat
+dark, owing to the shade of the veranda: so the lamp was lighted, and
+the pleasant scent of roses and lilies came through the open windows.
+A belated wasp hovered round the specimen glasses that Nan had filled;
+Dick tried to make havoc of the enemy with his table-napkin. The
+girls' white dresses suited their fresh young faces. Nan had fastened
+a crimson rose in her gown; Phillis and Dulce had knots of blue
+ribbon. "Trevanion does not know what he lost by his obstinacy,"
+thought Dick, as he glanced round the table.
+
+"What were you and the mother discussing?" asked Dulce, curiously.
+
+"Dick was telling me about his friend. He seemed a very superior young
+man," returned Mrs. Challoner. "I suppose you have asked him for your
+party next week?"
+
+Dick turned very red at this question. "Mater asked him, you may trust
+her for that. If it were not for father, I think she would turn the
+whole house out of the windows: every day some one fresh is invited."
+
+"How delightful! and all in your honor," exclaimed Dulce,
+mischievously.
+
+"That spoils the whole thing," grumbled the heir of the Maynes: "it
+is a perfect shame that a fellow cannot come of age quietly, without
+his people making this fuss. I begin to think I was a fool for my
+pains to refuse the ball."
+
+"Yes, indeed; just because you were afraid of the supper speeches,"
+laughed Dulce, "when we all wanted it so."
+
+"New mind," returned Dick, sturdily; "the mater shall give us one in
+the winter, and we will have Godfrey's band, and I will get all our
+fellows to come."
+
+"That will be delightful," observed Nan, and her eyes sparkled,--already
+she saw herself led out for the first dance by the son of the house,--but
+Dulce interrupted her:
+
+"But all the same I wish Dick had not been so stupid about it. No one
+knows what may happen before the winter. I hate put-off things."
+
+"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,--eh, Miss Dulce?"
+
+"Yes, indeed; that proverb is truer than people think," she replied,
+with a wise nod of her head. "Don't you remember, Nan, when the
+Parkers' dance was put off, and then old Mr. Parker died; and nearly
+the same thing happened with the Normatons, only it was an uncle in
+that case."
+
+"Moral: never put off a dance, in case somebody dies."
+
+"Oh, hush, please!" groaned Nan, in a shocked voice; "I don't like to
+hear you talk about such dreadful things. After all, it is such
+delicious weather that I am not sure a garden-party will not be more
+enjoyable; and you know, Dulce, that we are to dance on the lawn if we
+like."
+
+"And supposing it should rain," put in that extremely troublesome
+young person, at which suggestion Dick looked very gloomy.
+
+"In that case I think we must persuade Mrs. Mayne to clear a room for
+us," returned Nan, cheerfully. "If your mother consults me," she
+continued, addressing Dick, who visibly brightened at this, "I shall
+recommend her to empty the front drawing-room as much as possible.
+There is the grand piano, or the band might come in-doors; there will
+be plenty of room for the young people, and the non-dancers can be
+drafted off into the inner drawing-room and conservatory."
+
+"What a head you have!" exclaimed Dick, admiringly; and Phillis, who
+had not joined in the argument, was pleased to observe that she was
+quite of Nan's opinion: dancing was imperative, and if the lawns were
+wet they must manage in-doors somehow. "It would never do for people
+to be bored and listless," finished the young lady, sententiously, and
+such was Phillis's cleverness that it was understood at once that the
+oracle had spoken; but then it was never known for Nan and Phillis to
+differ.
+
+Things being thus amicably arranged, the rest of the conversation
+flowed evenly on every other point, such as the arrangements of the
+tennis-matches in the large meadow, and the exact position of the
+marquees; but just as they were leaving the table Dick said another
+word to Nan in a somewhat low voice:
+
+"It is all very well, but this sort of thing does make a fellow feel
+such a conceited fool."
+
+"If I were you I would not think about it at all," she returned, in
+her sensible way. "The neighborhood will expect something of the kind,
+and we owe a little to other people; then it pleases your mother to
+make a fuss, as you call it, and it would be too ungrateful to
+disappoint her."
+
+"Well, perhaps you are right," he returned, in a slightly mollified
+tone, for he was a modest young fellow, and the whole business had
+occasioned him some soreness of spirit. "Take it all in all, one has
+an awful lot to go through in life: there are the measles, you know,
+and whooping cough, and the dentist, and one's examination, and no end
+of unpleasant things; but to be made by one's own mother to feel like
+an idiot for a whole afternoon! Never mind; it can be got through
+somehow," finished the young philosopher, with a sigh that sent Nan
+into a fit of laughter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+DICK OBJECTS TO THE MOUNTAINS.
+
+
+"Shall we have our usual stroll?" asked Phillis, as Nan and Dick
+joined her at the window.
+
+This was one of the customs at Glen Cottage. When any such fitting
+escort offered itself, the three girls would put on their hats, and,
+regardless of the evening dews and their crisp white dresses, would
+saunter, under Dick's guidance through the quiet village, or down and
+up the country roads "just for a breath of air," as they would say.
+
+It is only fair to Mrs. Challoner's views of propriety to say that she
+would have trusted her three pretty daughters to no other young man
+but Dick; and of late certain prudential doubts had crossed her mind.
+It was all very well for Phillis to say Dick was Dick, and there was
+an end of it. After all, he belonged to the phalanx of her enemies,
+those shadowy invaders of her hearth that threatened her maternal
+peace. Dick was not a boy any longer; he had outgrown his hobbledehoy
+ways; the slight sandy moustache that he so proudly caressed was not a
+greater proof of his manhood than the undefinable change that had
+passed over his manners.
+
+Mrs. Challoner began to distrust these evening strolls, and to turn
+over in her own mind various wary pretexts for detaining Nan on the
+next occasion.
+
+"Just this once, perhaps, it does not matter," she murmured to
+herself, as she composed herself to her usual nap.
+
+"We shall not be long, little mother; so you must not be dull," Dulce
+had said, kissing her lightly over her eyes. This was just one of the
+pleasant fictions at the cottage,--one of those graceful little
+deceptions that are so harmless in families.
+
+Dulce knew of those placid after-dinner naps. She knew her mother's
+eyes would only unclose when Dorothy brought in the tea-tray; but she
+was also conscious that nothing would displease her mother more than
+to notice this habit. When they lingered in-doors, and talked in
+whispers so as not to disturb her, Mrs. Challoner had an extraordinary
+facility for striking into the conversation in a way that was somewhat
+confusing.
+
+"I don't agree with you at all," she would say, in a drowsy voice. "Is
+it not time for Dorothy to bring in the tea? I wish you would all talk
+louder. I must be getting a little deaf, I think, for I don't hear
+half you say."
+
+"Oh, it was only nonsense talk, mammie," Dulce would answer; and the
+sisterly chit-chat would recommence, and her mother's head nid-nodded
+on the cushions until the next interruption.
+
+"We shall not have many more of these strolls," observed Dick,
+regretfully, as they all walked together through the village, and then
+branched off into a long country road, where the air blew freshly in
+their faces and low mists hung over the meadow land. Though it was not
+quite dark, there was a tiny moon, and the glimmer of a star or two;
+and there was a pleasant fragrance as of new-mown grass.
+
+They were all walking abreast, and keeping step, and Dick was in the
+middle, with Nan beside him. Dulce was hanging on to her arm, and
+every now and then breaking into little snatches of song.
+
+"How I envy you!" exclaimed Phillis. "Think of spending three whole
+months in Switzerland. Oh, you lucky Dick!"
+
+For the Maynes had decided to pass the long vacation in the Engadine.
+Some hints had been dropped that Nan should accompany them, but Mrs.
+Challoner had regarded the invitation with some disfavor, and Mrs.
+Mayne had not pressed the point. If only Nan had known! but her mother
+had in this matter kept her own counsel.
+
+"I don't know about that," dissented Dick; he was rather given to
+argue from the mere pleasure of opposition. "Mountains and glaciers
+are all very well in their way; but I think, on the whole, I would as
+soon be here. You see, I am so accustomed to mix with a lot of
+fellows, that I am afraid of finding the pater's sole company rather
+slow."
+
+"For shame!" remarked his usual monitress. But she spoke gently: in
+her heart she knew why Dick failed to find the mountains alluring.
+
+"Why could not one of you girls join us?" he continued, wrathfully.
+The rogue had fairly bullied the unwilling Mrs. Mayne into giving that
+invitation.
+
+"Do ask her, mother; she will be such a nice companion for you when
+the pater and I are doing our climbing; do, there's a dear good soul!"
+he had coaxed. And the dear good soul, who was secretly jealous of
+Nan, and loved her about as much as mothers usually love an only son's
+choice, had bewailed her hard fate in secret; and had then stepped
+over to the cottage with a bland and cheerful exterior, which grew
+more cheerful as Mrs. Challoner's reluctance made itself felt.
+
+"It is not wise; it will throw them so much together," Nan's mother
+had said. "If it were only Phillis or Dulce; but you must have
+noticed----"
+
+"Oh, yes, I have noticed!" returned Mrs. Mayne, hastily. She was a
+stout, comely-looking woman, but beside Mrs. Challoner she looked like
+a housekeeper dressed in her mistress's smart clothes. Mrs. Mayne's
+dresses never seemed to belong to her; it could not be said that they
+fitted her ill, but there was a want of adaptability,--a lack of taste
+that failed to accord with her florid style of beauty.
+
+She had been a handsome woman when Richard Mayne married her, but a
+certain deepening of tints and broadening of contour had not improved
+the mistress of Longmead. Her husband was a decided contrast: he was a
+small, wiry man, with sharp features that expressed a great deal of
+shrewdness. Dick had got his sandy hair; but Richard Mayne the elder
+had not his son's honest, kindly eyes. Mr. Mayne's were small and
+twinkling; he had a way of looking at people between his half-closed
+lids, in a manner half sharp and half jocular.
+
+He was not vulgar, far from it; but he had a homely air about him that
+spoke of the self-made man. He was rather fond of telling people that
+his father had been in trade in a small way and that he himself had
+been the sole architect of his fortune. "Look at Dick," he would say;
+"he would never have a penny, that fellow, unless I made it for him:
+he has come into the world to find his bread ready buttered. I had to
+be content with a crust as I could earn it. The lad's a cut above us
+both, though he has the good taste to try and hide it."
+
+This sagacious speech was very true. Dick would never have succeeded
+as a business man; he was too full of crotchets and speculations to be
+content to run in narrow grooves. The notion of money-making was
+abhorrent to him; the idea of a city life, with its hard rubs and
+drudgery, was utterly distasteful to him. "One would have to mix with
+such a lot of cads," he would say. "English, pure and undefiled, is
+not always spoken. If I must work, I would rather have a turn at law
+or divinity; the three old women with the eye between them knows
+which."
+
+It could not be denied that Dick winced a little at his father's
+homely speeches; but in his heart he was both proud and fond of him,
+and was given to assert to a few of his closest friends "that, take it
+all in all, and looking at other fellows' fathers, he was a rattling
+good sort, and no mistake."
+
+When Mrs. Challoner had entered her little protest against her
+daughter's acceptance of the invitation, Mrs. Mayne had risen and
+kissed her with some effusion as she took her leave.
+
+"It is so nice of you to say this to me; of course I should have been
+pleased, delighted to have had Nan with us" (oh, Mrs. Mayne, fie for
+shame! when you want your boy to yourself), "but all the same I think
+you are so wise."
+
+"Poor child! I am afraid I am refusing her a great treat," returned
+Mrs. Challoner, in a tone of regret. It was the first time since her
+husband's death that she had ever decided anything without reference
+to her daughters; but for once her maternal fears were up in arms, and
+drove her to sudden resolution.
+
+"Yes, but, as you observed, it would throw them so entirely together;
+and Dick is so young. Richard was only saying the other night that he
+hoped the boy would not fancy himself in love for the next two years,
+as he did not approve of such early engagements."
+
+"Neither do I," returned Mrs. Challoner, quickly. "Nothing would annoy
+me more than for one of my daughters to entangle herself with so young
+a man. We know the world too well for that, Mrs. Mayne. Why, Dick may
+fall in and out of love half a dozen times before he really makes up
+his mind."
+
+"Ah, that is what Richard says," returned Dick's mother, with a sigh;
+in her heart she was not quite of her husband's opinion. She
+remembered how that long waiting wasted her own youth,--waiting for
+what? For comforts that she would gladly have done without,--for a
+well-furnished house, when she would have lived happily in the poorest
+lodging with the Richard Mayne who had won her heart,--for whom she
+would have toiled and slaved with the self-abnegating devotion of a
+loving woman; only he feared to have it so.
+
+"'When poverty enters the door, love flies out of the window:' we had
+better make up our minds to wait, Bessie. I can better work in single
+than double harness just now." That was what he said to her, and
+Bessie waited,--not till she grew thin, but stout, and the spirit of
+her youth was gone; and it was a sober, middle-aged woman who took
+possession of the long-expected home.
+
+Mrs. Mayne loved her husband, but during that tedious engagement her
+ardor had a little cooled, and it may be doubted whether the younger
+Richard was not dearer to her than his father; which was ungrateful,
+to say the least of it, as Mr. Mayne doted on his comely wife, and
+thought Bessie as handsome now as in the days when she came out
+smiling to welcome him, a slim young creature with youthful roses in
+her cheeks.
+
+From this brief conversation it may be seen that none of the elders
+quite approved of this budding affection. Mrs. Challoner, who
+belonged to a good old family, found it hard to forgive the Maynes'
+lowliness of birth; and though she liked Dick, she thought Nan could
+do better for herself. Mr. Mayne pooh-poohed the whole thing so
+entirely that the women could only speak of it among themselves.
+
+"Dick is a clever fellow; he ought to marry money," he would say. "I
+am not a millionaire, and a little more would be acceptable;" and
+though he was always kind to Nan and her sisters, he was forever
+dealing sly hits at her. "Phillis has the brains of the family," he
+would say: "that is the girl for my money. I call her a vast deal
+better looking than Nan, though people make such a fuss about the
+other one;" a speech he was never tired of repeating in his son's
+presence, and at which Dick snapped his fingers metaphorically and
+said nothing.
+
+When Dick wished that one of them were going to Switzerland, Nan
+sighed furtively. Dick was going away for three months, for the
+remainder of the long vacation. After next week they would not see him
+until Christmas,--nearly six months. A sense of dreariness, as new as
+it was strange, swept momentarily over Nan as she pondered this. The
+summer months would be grievously clouded. Dick had been the moving
+spirit of all the fun; the tennis-parties, the pleasant dawdling
+afternoons, would lose their zest when he was away.
+
+She remembered how persistently he had haunted their footsteps. When
+they paid visits to the Manor House, or Gardenhurst, or Fitzroy Lodge,
+Dick was sure to put in an appearance. People had nicknamed him the
+"Challoners' Squire;" but now Nan must go squireless for the rest of
+the summer, unless she took compassion on Stanley Parker, or that
+dreadful chatterbox his cousin.
+
+The male population was somewhat sparse at Oldfield. There were a few
+Eton boys, and one or two in that delightful transition age when youth
+is most bashful and uninteresting,--a sort of unfledged manhood, when
+the smooth boyish cheek contradicts the deepened bass of the
+voice,--an age that has not ceased to blush, and which is full of
+aggravating idosyncrasies and unexpected angles.
+
+To be sure, Lord Fitzroy was a splendid specimen of a young guardsman,
+but he had lately taken to himself a wife; and Sir Alfred Mostyn, who
+was also somewhat attractive and a very pleasant fellow, and
+unattached at present, had a tiresome habit of rushing off to Norway,
+or St. Petersburg, or Niagara, or the Rocky Mountains, for what he
+termed sport, or a lark.
+
+"It seems we are very stupid this evening," observed Phillis for Dick
+had waxed almost as silent as Nan. "I think the mother must nearly
+have finished her nap, so I propose we go back and have some tea;"
+and, as Nan languidly acquiesced they turned their faces towards the
+village again, Dulce still holding firmly to Nan's arm. By and by Dick
+struck out in a fresh direction.
+
+"I say, don't you wish we could have last week over again?"
+
+"Yes! oh, yes! was it not too delicious?" from the three girls; and
+Nan added, "I never enjoyed anything so much in my life," in a tone so
+fervent that Dick was delighted.
+
+"What a brick your mother was, to be sure, to spare you all!"
+
+"Yes; and she was so dull, poor dear, all the time we were away.
+Dorothy gave us quite a pitiful account when we got home."
+
+"It was a treat one ought to remember all one's life," observed
+Phillis, quite solemnly; and then ensued a most animated discussion.
+
+The treat to which Phillis alluded had been simply perfect in the
+three girls' eyes. Dick, who never forgot his friends, had so worked
+upon his mother that she had consented to chaperon the three sisters
+during Commemoration; and a consent being fairly coaxed out of Mrs.
+Challoner, the plan was put into execution.
+
+Dick, who was in the seventh heaven of delight, found roomy lodgings
+in the High Street, in which he installed his enraptured guests.
+
+The five days that followed were simply hours snatched out of
+fairyland to these four happy young creatures. No wonder envious looks
+were cast at Dick as he walked in Christ Church Meadows with Nan and
+Dulce, Phillis bringing up the rear somewhat soberly with Mrs. Mayne.
+
+"One pretty face would content most fellows," his friends grumbled;
+"but when you come to three, and not his own sisters either, why, it
+isn't fair on other folk." And to Dick they said, "Come, it is no use
+being so awfully close. Of course we see what's up: you are a lucky
+dog. Which is it, Mayne?--the pretty one with the pink and white
+complexion or the quiet one in gray, or the one with the mischievous
+eyes?"
+
+"Faix, they are all darlints and jewels, bless their purty faces!"
+drawled one young rogue, in his favorite brogue. "Here's the top of
+the morning to ye, Mayne; and it is mavourneen with the brown eyes and
+the trick of the smile like the sunshine's glint that has stolen poor
+Paddy's heart."
+
+"Oh, shut up, you fellows!" returned Dick, in a disgusted voice. "What
+is the good of your pretending to be Irish, Hamilton, when you are a
+canny Scotchman?"
+
+"Hoots, man, mind your clavers! You need not grizzle at a creature
+because he admires a wee gairl that is just beyond the lave,--a sonsie
+wee thing with a glint in her een like diamonds."
+
+"Hamilton, will you leave off this foolery?"
+
+"Nae doubt, nae doubt; would his honor pe axing if he pe wrang in the
+head, puir thing? Never mind that, put pe giving me the skene-dhu, or
+I will fight with proud-swords like a gentleman for the bit lassie;"
+but here a wary movement on Dick's part extinguished the torrent of
+Highland eloquence, and brought the canny Scotchman to the ground.
+
+Perfectly oblivious of all these compliments, the Challoners enjoyed
+themselves with the zest of healthy, happy English girls. They were
+simply indefatigable: poor Mrs. Mayne succumbed utterly before the
+fine days were over.
+
+They saw the procession of boats; they were at the flower-show at
+Worcester; Sunday afternoon found them in the Broad Walk; and the next
+night they were dancing at the University ball.
+
+They raved about the beauty of Magdalen cloisters; they looked down
+admiringly into the deer-park; Addison's Walk became known to them,
+and the gardens of St. John's. Phillis talked learnedly about Cardinal
+Wolsey as she stood in Christ Church hall: and in the theatre "the
+young ladies in pink" invoked the most continuous cheers.
+
+"Can they mean us?" whispered Dulce, rather alarmed, to their faithful
+escort Dick. "I don't see any other pink dresses!"
+
+And Dick said, calmly,--
+
+"Well, I suppose so. Some of those fellows up there are such a
+trumpery lot."
+
+So Dulce grew more reassured.
+
+But the greatest fun of all was the afternoon spent in Dick's room,
+when all his special friends were bidden to five o'clock tea, over
+which Nan, in her white gown, presided so gracefully.
+
+What a dear, shabby old room it was, with old-fashioned window-seats,
+where one could look down into the quadrangle. Dick was an Oriel man,
+and thought his college superior even to Magdalen.
+
+It became almost too hot and crowded at last, so many were the
+invitations given; but then, as Dick said afterwards, "he was such a
+soft-hearted beggar that he could not refuse the fellows that pestered
+him for invitations."
+
+Mrs. Mayne, looking very proud and happy, sat fanning herself in one
+of these windows. Phillis and Dulce were in the other attended by that
+rogue Hamilton and half a dozen more. Nan was the centre of another
+clique, who hemmed her and the tea-table in so closely that Dick had
+to wander disconsolately round the outskirts: there was no getting a
+look from Nan that afternoon.
+
+How hot it was! It was a grand _coup_ when the door opened and the
+scout made his appearance carrying a tray of ices.
+
+"It is well to be Mayne!" half grumbled young Hamilton, as Dulce took
+one gratefully from his hand. "He is treating us like a prince,
+instead of the thin bread-and-butter entertainment he led us to
+expect. Put down that tea, Miss Challoner. I see iced claret-cup and
+strawberries in the corner. There is nothing like being an only child;
+doting parents are extremely useful articles. I am one of ten; would
+you believe it?" continued the garrulous youth. "When one has six
+brothers older than one's self, I will leave you to imagine the
+consequences."
+
+"How nice!" returned Dulce, innocently; "I have always so longed for a
+brother. If it had not been for Dick, we should have had no one to do
+things for us."
+
+"Oh, indeed! Mayne is a sort of adopted brother!" observed her
+companion, looking at her rather sharply.
+
+"We have always looked upon him as one. We do just as we like with
+him,--scold and tease him, and send him on our errands;" which
+intelligence fairly convinced the envious Hamilton that the youngest
+Miss Challoner was not his friend's fancy.
+
+Dick always recalled that evening with a sense of pride. How well and
+gracefully Nan had fulfilled her duties! how pretty she had looked, in
+spite of her flushed cheeks! He had never seen a girl to compare with
+her,--not he!
+
+They were so full of these delightful reminiscences that they were at
+the cottage gate before they knew it; and then Dick astonished them by
+refusing to come in. He had quite forgotten, he said, but his mother
+had asked him to come home early, as she was not feeling just the
+thing.
+
+"Quite right; you must do as she wishes," returned Nan, dismissing him
+far too readily, as he thought; but she said "Good-night!" with so
+kind a smile after that, that the foolish young fellow felt his pulses
+quicken.
+
+Dick lingered at the corner until the cottage door was closed, and
+then he raced down the Longmead shrubbery and set the house-bell
+pealing.
+
+"They are in the library, I suppose?" he asked of the butler who
+admitted him; and, on receiving an answer in the affirmative, he
+dashed unceremoniously into the room, while his mother held up her
+finger and smiled at the truant.
+
+"You naughty boy, to be so late; and now you have spoiled you father's
+nap!" she said, pretending to scold him.
+
+"Tut! tut! what nonsense you talk sometimes!" said Mr. Mayne, rather
+crossly, as he stood on the hearth-rug rubbing his eyes. "I was not
+asleep, I will take my oath of that; only I wish Dick could sometimes
+enter a room without making people jump;" by which Dick knew that his
+father was in one of his contrary moods, when he could be very
+cross,--very cross indeed!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+MR. MAYNE MAKES HIMSELF DISAGREEABLE.
+
+
+The library at Longmead was a very pleasant room, and it was the
+custom of the family to retire thither on occasions when guests were
+not forthcoming, and Mr. Mayne could indulge in his favorite nap
+without fear of interruption.
+
+A certain simplicity, not to say homeliness, of manners prevailed in
+the house. It was understood among them that the dining-room was far
+too gorgeous for anything but occasions of ceremony. Mrs. Mayne,
+indeed, had had the good taste to cover the satin couches with pretty,
+fresh-looking cretonne, and had had arranged hanging cupboards of old
+china until it had been transformed into a charming apartment,
+notwithstanding which the library was declared to be the family-room,
+where the usual masculine assortment of litter could be regarded with
+indulgent eyes, and where papers and pamphlets lay in delightful
+confusion.
+
+Longmead was not a pretentious house--it was a moderate-sized
+residence, adapted to a gentleman of moderate means; but in summer no
+place could be more charming. The broad gravel walk before the house
+had a background of roses; hundreds of roses climbed up the railings
+or twined themselves about the steps: a tiny miniature lake, garnished
+with water-lilies, lay in the centre of the lawn; a group of old
+elm-trees was beside it; behind the house lay another lawn, and beyond
+were meadows where a few sheep were quietly grazing. Mr. Mayne, who
+found time hang a little heavily on his hands, prided himself a good
+deal on his poultry-yard and kitchen-garden. A great deal of his spare
+time was spent among his favorite Bantams and Dorkings, and in
+superintending his opinionated old gardener--on summer mornings he
+would be out among the dews in his old coat and planter's hat, weeding
+among the gooseberry-bushes.
+
+"It is the early bird that finds the worm," he would say, when Dick
+sauntered into the breakfast-room later on; for, in common with the
+youth of his generation, he had a wholesome horror of early rising,
+which he averred was one of the barbarous usages of the dark ages in
+which his elders had been bred.
+
+"I never took any interest in worms, sir," returned Dick, helping
+himself to a tempting rasher that had just been brought in hot for the
+pampered youth. "By the bye, have you seen Darwin's work on 'The
+Formation of Vegetable Mould'? he declares that worms have played a
+more important part in the history of the world than most people
+would at first suppose: they were our earliest ploughmen."
+
+"Oh, ah! indeed, very interesting!" observed his father, dryly; "but
+all the same, I beg to observe, no one succeeded in life who was not
+an early riser."
+
+"A sweeping assertion, and one I might be tempted to argue, if it were
+not for taking up your valuable time," retorted Dick, lazily, but with
+a twinkle in his eye. "I know my constitution better than to trust
+myself out before the world is properly aired and dried. I am thinking
+it is less a case of worms than of rheumatism some early birds will be
+catching;" to which Mr. Mayne merely returned an ungracious "Pshaw!"
+and marched off, leaving his son to enjoy his breakfast in peace.
+
+When Dick entered the library on the evening in question, Mr. Mayne's
+querulous observation as to the noisiness of his entrance convinced
+him at once that his father was in a very bad humor indeed, and that
+on this account it behooved him to be exceedingly cool.
+
+So he kissed his mother, who looked at him a little anxiously, and
+then sat down and turned out her work-basket, as he had done Nan's two
+or three hours ago.
+
+"You are late after all, Dick," she said, with a little reproach in
+her voice. It was hardly a safe observation, to judge by her husband's
+cloudy countenance; but the poor thing sometimes felt her evenings a
+trifle dull when Dick was away. Mr. Mayne would take up his paper, but
+his eyes soon closed over it; that habit of seeking for the early worm
+rather disposed him to somnolent evenings, during which his wife
+knitted and felt herself nodding off out of sheer _ennui_ and dulness.
+These were not the hours she had planned during those years of
+waiting; she had told herself that Richard would read to her or talk
+to her as she sat over her work, that they would have so much to say
+to each other; but now, as she regarded his sleeping countenance
+evening after evening, it may be doubted whether matrimony was quite
+what she expected, since its bliss was so temperate and so strongly
+infused with drowsiness.
+
+Dick looked up innocently. "Am I late, mother?"
+
+"Oh, of course not," returned his father, with a sneer; "it is not
+quite time to ring for Nicholson to bring our candles. Bessie, I think
+I should like some hot water to-night; I feel a little chilly." And
+Bessie rang the bell obediently, and without any surprise in her
+manner. Mr. Mayne often woke up chilly from his long nap.
+
+"Are you going to have a 'drap of the cratur'?" asked his son, with
+alacrity. "Well, I don't mind joining you, and that's the truth, for
+we have been dawdling about, and I am a trifle chilly myself."
+
+"You know I object to spirits for young men," returned Mr. Mayne,
+severely: nevertheless he pushed the whiskey to Dick as soon as he
+had mixed his own glass, and his son followed his example.
+
+"I am quite of your opinion, father," he observed, as he regarded the
+handsome cut-glass decanter somewhat critically; "but there are
+exceptions to every rule, and when one is chilly----"
+
+"I wish you would make an exception and stay away from the cottage
+sometimes," returned Mr. Mayne, with ill-suppressed impatience. "It
+was all very well when you were all young things together, but it is
+high time matters should be different."
+
+Dick executed a low whistle of surprise and dismay. He had no idea his
+father's irritability had arisen from any definite cause. What a fool
+he had been to be so late! it might lead to some unpleasant
+discussion. Well, after all, if his father chose to be so disagreeable
+it was not his fault; and he was no longer a boy, to be chidden, or
+made to do this or that against his own will.
+
+Mr. Mayne was sufficiently shrewd to see that his son was somewhat
+taken aback by this sudden onslaught, and he was not slow to press his
+advantage. He had wanted to give Dick a bit of his mind for some time,
+and after all there is no time like the present.
+
+"Yes, it was all very well when you were a lot of children together,"
+he continued. "Of course, it is hard on you, Dick, having no brothers
+and sisters to keep you company; your mother and I were always sorry
+about that for your sake."
+
+"Oh, don't mention it," interrupted Dick: "on the whole, I am best
+pleased as it is."
+
+"But it would have been better for you," returned his father, sharply:
+"we should not have had all this fooling and humbug if you had had
+sisters of your own."
+
+"Fooling and humbug!" repeated Dick, hotly; "I confess, sir, I don't
+quite understand to what you are referring." He was growing very
+angry, but his mother flung herself between the combatants.
+
+"Don't, my boy, don't; you must not answer your father in that way.
+Richard, what makes you so hard on him to-night? It must be the gout,
+Dick: we had better send for Dr. Weatherby in the morning," continued
+the anxious woman, with tears in her eyes, "for your dear father would
+never be so cross to you as this unless he were going to be ill."
+
+"Stuff and nonsense, Bessie! Dr. Weatherby indeed!" but his voice was
+less wrathful. "What is it but fooling, I should like to know, for
+Dick to be daundering his time away with a parcel of girls as he does
+with these Challoners!"
+
+"I suppose you were never a young man yourself, sir."
+
+"Oh, yes, I was, my boy," and the corners of Mr. Mayne's mouth relaxed
+in spite of his efforts to keep serious. "I fell in love with your
+mother, and stuck to her for seven or eight years; but I did not make
+believe that I was brother to a lot of pretty girls, and waste all my
+time dancing attendance on them and running about on their errands."
+
+"You ought to have taken a lesson out of my book," returned his son,
+readily.
+
+"No, I ought to have done no such thing, sir!" shouted back Mr. Mayne,
+waxing irate again. It could not be denied that Dick could be
+excessively provoking when he liked. "Don't I tell you it is time this
+sort of thing was stopped? Why, people will begin to talk, and say you
+are making up to one of them, it is not right, Dick; it is not,
+indeed," with an attempted pathos.
+
+"I don't care that for what people say," returned the young fellow,
+snapping his fingers. "Is it not a pity you are saying all this to me
+just when I am going away and am not likely to see any of them for the
+next six months? You are very hard on me to-night, father; and I can't
+think what it is all about."
+
+Mr. Mayne was silent a moment, revolving his son's pathetic speech. It
+was true he had been cross, and had said more than he had meant to
+say. He had not wished to hinder Dick's innocent enjoyments; but if he
+were unknowingly picking flowers at the edge of a precipice, was it
+not his duty as a father to warn him?
+
+"I think I have been a little hard, my lad," he said, candidly, "but
+there, you and your mother know my bark is worse than my bite. I only
+wanted to warn you; that's all, Dick."
+
+"Warn me!--against what, sir?" asked the young man, quickly.
+
+"Against falling in love, really, with one of the Challoner girls!"
+returned Mr. Mayne, trying to evade the fire of Dick's eyes, and
+blustering a little in consequence. "Why, they have not a penny, one
+of them, and, if report be true, Mrs. Challoner's money is very
+shakily invested. Paine told me so the other day. He said he should
+never wonder if a sudden crash came any minute."
+
+"Is this true, Richard?"
+
+"Paine declares it is; and think of Dick saddling himself with the
+support of a whole family!"
+
+"It strikes me you are taking things very much for granted," returned
+his son, trying to speak coolly, but flushing like a girl over his
+words. "I think you might wait, father, until I proposed bringing you
+home a daughter-in-law."
+
+"I am only warning you, Dick, that the Challoner connection would be
+distasteful to me," replied Mr. Mayne, feeling that he had gone a
+little too far. "If you had brothers and sisters it would not matter
+half so much; but it would be too hard if my only son were to cross my
+wishes."
+
+"Should you disinherit me, father?" observed Dick, cheerfully. He had
+recovered his coolness and pluck, and began to feel more equal to the
+occasion.
+
+"We should see about that, but I hardly think it would be for your
+advantage to oppose me too much," returned his father with an ominous
+pucker of his eyebrows, which warned Dick, that it was hardly safe to
+chaff the old boy too much to-night.
+
+"I think I will go to bed, Richard," put in poor Mrs. Mayne. She had
+wisely forborne to mix in the discussion, fearing that it would bring
+upon her the vials of her husband's wrath. Mr. Mayne was as choleric
+as a Welshman, and had a reserve force of sharp cynical sayings that
+were somewhat hard to bear. He was disposed to turn upon her on such
+occasions, and to accuse her of spoiling Dick and taking his part
+against his father; between the two Richards she sometimes had a very
+bad time indeed.
+
+Dick lighted his mother's candle, and bade her good-night; but all the
+same she knew she had not seen the last of him. A few minutes
+afterwards there was a hasty tap at the bedroom door, and Dick thrust
+in his head.
+
+"Come in, my dear; I have been expecting you," she said, with a
+pleased smile. He always came to her when he was ruffled or put out,
+and brought her all his grievances; surely this was the very meaning
+and essence of her motherhood,--this healing and comfort that lay in
+her power of sympathy.
+
+When he was a little fellow, had she not extracted many a thorn and
+bound up many a cut finger? and now he was a man, would she be less
+helpful to him when he wanted a different kind of comfort?
+
+"Come in, my son," she said, beckoning him to the low chair beside
+her, into which Dick threw himself with a petulant yawn.
+
+"Mother, what made the pater so hard on me to-night? he cut up as
+rough as though I had committed some crime."
+
+"I don't think he is quite himself to-night," returned Mrs. Mayne, in
+her soft, motherly voice. "I fancy he misses you, Dick, and is half
+jealous of the Challoners for monopolizing you. You are all we have,
+that's where it is," she finished, stroking the sandy head with her
+plump hand; but Dick jerked away from her with a little impatience.
+
+"I think it rather hard that a fellow is to be bullied for doing
+nothing at all," replied Dick, with a touch of sullenness. "When the
+pater is in this humor it is no use saying anything to him; but you
+may as well tell him, mother, that I mean to choose my wife for
+myself."
+
+"Oh, my dear, I dare not tell him anything of the kind," returned Mrs.
+Mayne, in an alarmed voice; and then, as she glanced at her son, her
+terror merged into amusement. There was something so absurdly boyish
+in Dick's appearance, such a ludicrous contrast between the manliness
+of his speech and his smooth cheek; the little fringe of hirsute
+ornament, of which Dick was so proud, was hardly visible in the dim
+light; his youthful figure, more clumsy than graceful, had an
+unfledged air about it, nevertheless, the boldness of his words took
+away her breath.
+
+"Every man has a right to his own choice in such a matter," continued
+Dick, loftily. "You may as well tell him, mother, that I intend to
+select my own wife."
+
+"My dear, I dare not for worlds----" she began; and then she stopped,
+and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Why do you say this to me? there
+is plenty of time," she went on hastily; "that is what your father
+says, and I think he is right. You are too young for this sort of
+thing yet. You must see the world; you must look about you; you must
+have plenty of choice," continued the anxious mother. "I shall be hard
+to please, Dick, for I shall think no one good enough for my boy; that
+is the worst of having only one, and he the best son that ever lived,"
+finished Mrs. Mayne, with maternal pride in her voice.
+
+Dick took this effusion very coolly. He was quite used to all this
+sort of worship; he did not think badly of himself; he was not
+particularly humble-minded or given to troublesome introspection; on
+the whole, he thought himself a good fellow, and was not at all
+surprised that people appreciated him.
+
+"There are such a lot of cads in the world, one is always glad to fall
+in with a different sort," he would say to himself. He was quite of
+his mother's opinion, that an honest, God-fearing young fellow, who
+spoke the truth and shamed the devil, who had no special vices but a
+dislike for early rising, who had tolerable brains, and more than his
+share of muscle, who was in the Oxford eleven, and who had earned his
+blue ribbon,--that such a one might be considered to set an example to
+his generation.
+
+When his mother told him she would be hard to please, Dick looked a
+little wicked, and thought of Nan; but the name was not mentioned
+between them. Nevertheless, Mrs. Mayne felt with unerring maternal
+instinct that, in spite of his youth, Dick's choice was made, and
+sighed to herself at the thought of the evil days that were to come.
+
+Poor woman, she was to have little peace that night! Hardly had Dick
+finished his grumble and sauntered away, before her husband's step was
+heard in his dressing-room.
+
+"Bessie," he called out to her, "why do you allow that boy to keep you
+up so late at night? Do you know that it is eleven, and you are still
+fully dressed?"
+
+"Is it so late, Richard?"
+
+"Yes, of course," he snapped; "but that is the care you take of your
+health; and the way you cosset and spoil that boy is dreadful."
+
+"I don't think Dick is easily spoiled," plucking up a little spirit to
+answer him.
+
+"That shows how little you understand boys," returned her husband.
+Evidently the whiskey, though it was the best Glenlivat, had failed to
+mollify him. It might be dangerous to go too far with Dick, for he had
+a way of turning around and defending himself that somewhat
+embarrassed Mr. Mayne, but with his wife there would be no such
+danger. He would dominate her by his sharp speeches, and reduce her to
+abject submission in a moment, for Bessie was the meekest of wives.
+"Take care how you side with him," he continued, in a threatening
+voice. "He thinks that I am not serious in what I said just now, and
+is for carrying it off with a high hand; but I tell you, and you had
+better tell him, that I was never more in earnest in my life. I won't
+have one of those Challoner girls for a daughter-in-law!"
+
+"Oh, Richard! and Nan is such a sweet girl!" returned his wife, with
+tears in her eyes. She was awfully jealous of Nan, at times she almost
+dreaded her; but for her boy's sake she would have taken her now to
+her heart and defied even her formidable husband. "She is such a
+pretty creature, too; no one can help loving her."
+
+"Pshaw!" returned her husband; "pretty creature indeed! that is just
+your soft-hearted nonsense. Phillis is ten times prettier, and has
+heaps more sense. Why couldn't Dick have taken a fancy to her?"
+
+"Because I am afraid he cares for the other one," returned Mrs. Mayne,
+sadly. She had no wish to deceive her husband and she knew that the
+golden apple had rolled to Nan's feet.
+
+"Stuff and rubbish!" he responded, wrathfully. "What is a boy of his
+age to know about such things? Tell him from me to put this nonsense
+out of his head for the next year or two; there is plenty of time to
+look out for a wife after that. But I won't have him making up his
+mind until he has left Oxford." And Mrs. Mayne, knowing that her
+husband had spoken his last word, thankfully withdrew, feeling that in
+her heart she secretly agreed with him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+DICK'S FETE.
+
+
+As Mr. Mayne's wrath soon evaporated, and Dick was a sweet-tempered
+fellow and bore no malice, this slight altercation produced no lasting
+effect, except that Dick, for the next few days, hurried home to his
+dinner, talked a good deal about Switzerland, and never mentioned a
+Challoner in his father's hearing.
+
+"We must keep him in a good temper for the 25th," he said to his
+mother, with a touch of the Mayne shrewdness.
+
+That day was rapidly approaching, and all sorts of festive
+preparations were going on at Longmead. Dick himself gravely
+superintended the rolling of the tennis-ground in the large meadow,
+and daubed himself plentifully with lime in marking out the courts,
+while Mr. Mayne stood with his hands in the pockets of his
+shooting-coat watching him. The two were a great deal together just
+then: Dick rather stuck to his father during one or two mornings; the
+wily young fellow knew that Nan was closeted with his mother, helping
+her with all sorts of feminine arrangements, and he was determined to
+keep them apart. Nan wondered a great deal why Dick did not come to
+interrupt or tease them as usual, and grew a little absent over Mrs.
+Mayne's rambling explanations. When the gong sounded, no one asked her
+to stay to luncheon. Mrs. Mayne saw her put on her hat without
+uttering a single protest.
+
+"It is so good of you to help me, dear," she said, taking the girl
+into her embrace. "You are quite sure people won't expect a sit-down
+supper?"
+
+"Oh no; the buffet system is best," returned Nan, decidedly. "Half the
+people will not stay, and you need not make a fuss about the rest. It
+is an afternoon party, you must remember that; only people who are
+very intimate will remain for the fun of the thing. Tell Nicholson to
+have plenty of ices going; people care most for that sort of
+refreshment."
+
+"Yes, dear; I will be sure to remember," returned her friend, meekly.
+
+She was very grateful to Nan for these hints, and was quite willing to
+follow her guidance in all such matters; but when Nan proposed once
+sending for Dick to ask his opinion on some knotty point that baffled
+their women's wits, Mrs. Mayne demurred.
+
+"It is a pity to disturb him; he is with his father; and we can settle
+these things by ourselves," she replied, not venturing to mar the
+present tranquillity by sending such a message to Dick. Mr. Mayne
+would have accompanied his son, and the consultation would hardly have
+ended peaceably. "Men have their hobbies. We had better settle all
+this together, you and I," she said hurriedly.
+
+Nan merely nodded, and cut the Gordian knot through somewhat
+ruthlessly; but on that occasion she put on her hat before the gong
+sounded.
+
+"You must be very busy, for one never has a glimpse of you in the
+morning," she could not help saying to Dick, as he came in that
+afternoon to escort them to Fitzroy Lodge.
+
+"Well, yes, I am tolerably busy," he drawled. "I am never free to do
+things in the afternoons,"--a fact that Nan felt was unanswerable.
+
+When Nan and her sisters woke on the morning of the memorable day, the
+bright sunshine of a cloudless June day set all their fears at rest.
+If the sun smiled on Dick's fete, all would be well. If Nan's
+devotions were longer than usual that morning, no one was the wiser;
+if she added a little clause, calling down a blessing on a certain
+head, no one would be the poorer for such pure prayers; indeed, it
+were well if many such were uttered for the young men who go forth
+morning after morning into the temptations of life.
+
+Such prayers might stretch like an invisible shield before the
+countless foes that environ such a one; fiery darts may be caught upon
+it; a deadly thrust may be turned away. What if the blessing would
+never reach the ear of the loved one, who goes out unconscious of
+sympathy? His guardian angel has heard it, and perchance it has
+reached the very gate of heaven.
+
+Nan came down, smiling and radiant, to find Dick waiting for her in
+the veranda and chattering to Phillis and Dulce.
+
+"Why, Dick!" she cried, blushing with surprise and pleasure, "to think
+of your being here on your birthday morning!"
+
+"I only came to thank you and the girls for your lovely presents,"
+returned Dick, becoming rather incoherent and red at the sight of
+Nan's blush. "It was so awfully good of you all, to work all those
+things for me;" for Nan had taken secret measurements in Dick's room,
+and had embroidered a most exquisite mantelpiece valance, and Phillis
+and Dulce had worked the corners of a green cloth with wonderful
+daffodils and bulrushes to cover Dick's shabby table: and Dick's soul
+had been filled with ravishment at the sight of these gifts.
+
+Nan would not let him go on, but all the same his happy face delighted
+her.
+
+"No, don't thank us, we liked doing it," she returned, rather coolly.
+"You know we owed you something after all your splendid hospitality,
+and work is never any trouble to us."
+
+"But I never saw anything I liked better," blurted out Dick. "All the
+fellows will be jealous of me. I am sure I don't know what Hamilton
+will say. It was awfully good of you, Nan, and so it was of the
+others: and if I don't make it up to you somehow, my name is not
+Dick:" and he smiled round at them as he spoke. "Fancy putting in all
+those stitches for me!" he thought to himself.
+
+"We are so glad you are pleased," returned Nan, with one of her sweet,
+straightforward looks; "that is what we wanted to give you,--a little
+surprise on your birthday. Now you must tell us about your other
+presents." And Dick, nothing loath, launched into eloquent
+descriptions of the silver-fitted dressing-case from his mother, and
+the gun and thorough-bred collie that had been his father's gifts.
+
+"He is such a fine fellow; I must show him to you this afternoon,"
+went on Dick, eagerly. "His name is Vigo, and he has such a superb
+head. Was it not good of the pater? he knew I had a fancy for a
+collie, and he has been in treaty for one ever so long. Is he not a
+dear old boy?" cried Dick, rapturously. But he did not tell his
+friends of the crisp bundle of bank-notes with which Mr. Mayne had
+enriched his son; only as Dick fingered them lovingly, he wondered
+what pretty foreign thing he could buy for Nan, and whether her mother
+would allow her to accept it.
+
+After this Nan dismissed him somewhat peremptorily; he must go back to
+his breakfast, and allow them to do the same.
+
+"Mind you come early," were Dick's last words as he waved his straw
+hat to them. How often the memory of that morning recurred to him as
+he stood solitarily and thoughtful, contemplating some grand sketch of
+Alpine scenery!
+
+The snow peaks and blue glaciers melted away before his eyes; in their
+place rose unbidden a picture framed in green trellis-work, over which
+roses were climbing.
+
+Fresh girlish faces smiled back at him; the brightest and kindest of
+glances met his. "Good-bye, Dick; a thousand good wishes from us all."
+A slim white hand had gathered a rose-bud for him; how proudly he had
+worn it all that day! Stop, he had it still; it lay all crushed and
+withered in his pocket-book. He had written the date under it; one day
+he meant to show it to her. Oh, foolish days of youth, so prodigal of
+minor memories and small deeds of gifts, when a withered flower can
+hold the rarest scent, and in a crumpled roseleaf there is a whole
+volume of ecstatic meaning! Oh, golden days of youth, never to be
+surpassed!
+
+Never in the memory of Oldfield had there been a more delicious day.
+
+The sky was cloudless; long purple shadows lay under the elm-trees; a
+concert of bird-music sounded from the shrubberies: in the green
+meadows flags were waving, tent-draperies fluttering; the house-doors
+stood open, showing a flower-decked hall and vista of cool shadowy
+rooms.
+
+Dick, looking bright and trim, wandering restlessly over the place,
+and Mr. Mayne fidgeted after him; while Mrs. Mayne sat fanning herself
+under the elm-trees and hoping the band would not be late.
+
+No there it was turning in now at the stable-entrance, and playing
+"The girl I left behind me;" and there at the same moment was Nan
+coming up the lawn in her white gown, closely followed by her mother
+and sisters.
+
+"Are we the first?" she asked, as Dick darted across the grass to meet
+her. "That is nice; we shall see all the people arrive. How
+inspiriting that music is, and how beautiful everything looks!"
+
+"It is awfully jolly of you to be the first," whispered Dick; "and how
+nice you look, Nan! You always do, you know, but to-day you are
+first-rate. Is this a new gown?" casting an approving look over Nan's
+costume, which was certainly very fresh and pretty.
+
+"Oh, yes; we have all new dresses in your honor, and we made them
+ourselves," returned Nan, carelessly. "Mother has got her old silk,
+but for her it does not so much matter; at least that is what she
+says."
+
+"And she is quite right. She is always real splendid, as the Yankees
+say, whatever she wears," returned Dick, wishing secretly that his
+mother in her new satin dress looked half so well as Mrs. Challoner in
+her old one. But it was no use. Mrs. Mayne never set off her handsome
+dresses; with her flushed, good-natured face and homely ways, she
+showed to marked disadvantage beside Mrs. Challoner's faded beauty.
+Mrs. Challoner's gown might be antique, but nothing could surpass the
+quiet grace of her carriage, or the low pleasant modulations of her
+voice. Her figure was almost as slim as her daughters', and she could
+easily have passed for their elder sister.
+
+Lady Fitzroy, who was a Burgoyne by birth,--and every one knows that
+for haughtiness and a certain exclusive intoleration none could match
+the Burgoynes,--always distinguished Mrs. Challoner by the marked
+attention she paid her.
+
+"A very lady-like woman, Percival. Certainly the most lady-like person
+in the neighborhood," she would say to her husband, who was not quite
+so exclusive, and always made himself pleasant to his neighbors; and
+she would ask very graciously after her brother-in-law, Sir Francis
+Challoner. "He is still in India, I suppose?"
+
+"Oh, yes; he is still in India," Mrs. Challoner would reply, rather
+curtly. She had not the faintest interest in her husband's brother,
+whom she had never seen more than twice in her life, and who was
+understood to be small credit to his family. The aforesaid Sir Francis
+Challoner had been the poorest of English baronets. His property had
+dwindled down until it consisted simply of a half ruined residence in
+the north of England.
+
+In his young days Sir Francis had been a prodigal, and, like the
+prodigal in the parable, he had betaken himself into far countries,
+not to waste his substance, for he had none, but if possible to glean
+some of the Eastern riches.
+
+Whether he had been successful or not Mrs. Challoner hardly knew. That
+he had married and settled in Calcutta,--that he had a son named
+Harry, who had once written to her in round hand and subscribed
+himself as her affectionate nephew, Henry Ford Challoner--this she
+knew; but what manner of person Lady Challoner might be, or what sort
+of home her brother-in-law had made for himself, those points were
+enveloped in mystery.
+
+"I suppose she is so civil to me because of your uncle Francis," she
+used to say to her girls, which was attributing to Lady Fitzroy a
+degree of snobbishness that was quite undeserved. Lady Fitzroy really
+liked Mrs. Challoner and found intercourse with her very pleasant and
+refreshing. When one is perfectly well-bred, there is a subtile charm
+in harmony of voice and manner. Mrs. Challoner might have dressed in
+rags if she liked, and the young countess would still have aired her
+choicest smiles for her.
+
+It was lucky Nan had those few words from Dick, for they fell apart
+after this, and were separated the greater portion of the afternoon.
+
+Carriages began to drive in at the gates; groups of well-dressed
+people thronged the lawn, and were drafted off to the field where the
+band was playing.
+
+Nan and her sisters had their work cut out for them; they knew
+everybody and they were free of the house. It was they who helped Dick
+arrange the tennis-matches, who pointed out to the young men of the
+party which was the tea-tent, and where the ices and claret-cup were
+to be found. They marshalled the elder ladies into pleasant nooks,
+where they could be sheltered from the sun and see all that was going
+on.
+
+"No, thank you; I shall not play tennis this afternoon; there are too
+many of us, and I am so busy," Nan said, dismissing one after another
+who came up to her. "If you want a partner, there is Carrie Paine, who
+is dying for a game."
+
+Dick, who was passing with Lady Fitzroy on his arm, whom he was
+hurrying somewhat unceremoniously across the field, threw her a
+grateful glance as he went by.
+
+"What a sweet-looking girl that is!" said Lady Fitzroy, graciously, as
+she panted a little over her exertion.
+
+"Who?--Nan? Yes; isn't she a brick?--and the others too?" for Phillis
+and Dulce were just as self-denying in their labors. As Mr. Mayne said
+afterwards, "They were just everywhere, those Challoners, like a hive
+of swarming bees;" which, as it was said in a grumbling tone, was
+ungrateful, to say the least of it.
+
+Dick worked like a horse too; he looked all the afternoon as though he
+had a tough job in hand that required the utmost gravity and despatch.
+He was forever hurrying elderly ladies across the field towards the
+refreshment-tent, where he deposited them, panting and heated, in all
+sorts of corners.
+
+"Are you quite comfortable? May I leave you now? or shall I wait and
+take you back again?" asked Dick, who was eager for a fresh convoy.
+
+"No, no; I would rather stay here a little," returned Mrs. Paine, who
+was not desirous of another promenade with the hero of the day. "Go
+and fetch some one else, Dick: I am very well off where I am,"
+exchanging an amused glance with one of her friends, as Dick, hot and
+breathless, started off on another voyage of discovery.
+
+Dick's behavior had been simply perfect all the afternoon in his
+father's eyes; but later on, when the band struck up a set of
+quadrilles, he committed his first solecism in manners: instead of
+asking Lady Fitzroy to dance with him, he hurried after Nan.
+
+"This is our dance; come along," he said, taking her unwilling hand;
+but she held back a moment.
+
+"Are you sure? Is there not some one else you ought to choose?--Lady
+Fitzroy, for example?" questioned Nan, with admirable forethought.
+
+"Bother Lady Fitzroy!" exclaimed Dick, under his breath; he had had
+quite enough of that lady. "Why are you holding back, Nan, in this
+fashion?" a cloud coming over his face. "Haven't you promised weeks
+ago to give me the first dance?" And Nan, seeing the cloud on his
+face, yielded without another word. Dick always managed to have his
+own way somehow.
+
+"Dick! Dick!" cried his father, in a voice of agony, as they passed
+him.
+
+"All in good time; coming presently," returned the scapegrace,
+cheerfully. "Now, Nan, this is our place. We will have Hamilton and
+Dulce for our _vis-a-vis_. What a jolly day; and isn't this
+first-rate?" exclaimed Dick, rubbing his hands, and feeling as though
+he were only just beginning to enjoy himself.
+
+Nan was not quite so easy in her mind.
+
+"Your father does not look very pleased. I am afraid, after all, you
+ought to have asked Lady Fitzroy," she said, in a low voice; but Dick
+turned a deaf ear. He showed her the rose in his buttonhole; and when
+Nan told him it was withered, and wanted him to take it out, he gave
+her a reproachful look that made her blush.
+
+They were very happy after this; and, when the dance was over, Dick
+gave her his arm, and carried her off to see Vigo, who was howling a
+deep mournful bass at the back of the gardener's cottage.
+
+Nan made friends with him, and stroked his black curly head, and
+looked lovingly into his deep melancholy eyes; and then, as her
+flowers were fading, they strolled off into the conservatory, where
+Dick gathered her a fresh bouquet and then sat down and watched her
+arrange it.
+
+"What clever fingers you have got!" he said, looking at them
+admiringly, as Nan sorted the flowers in her lap; and at this unlucky
+moment they were discovered by Mr. Mayne, who was bringing Lady
+Fitzroy to see a favorite orchid.
+
+He shot an angry suspicious glance at his son.
+
+"Dick, your mother is asking for you," he said, rather abruptly; but
+Dick growled something in an undertone, and did not move.
+
+Nan gave him a frightened nudge. Why was he so imprudent?
+
+"I cannot move, because of my flowers; do go, Dick. You must indeed,
+if your mother wants you;" and she looked at him in such a pleading
+way that Dick dared not refuse. It was just like his father to come
+and disturb his first happy moments and to order him off to go and do
+something disagreeable. He had almost a mind to brave it out, and
+remain in spite of him; but there was Nan looking at him in a
+frightened, imploring way.
+
+"Oh, do go, Dick," giving him a little impatient push in her
+agitation; "if your mother wants you, you must not keep her waiting."
+But Nan in her heart knew, as Dick did in his, that the message was
+only a subterfuge to separate them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+"I AM QUITE SURE OF HIM."
+
+
+Nan would willingly have effected her escape too, but she was detained
+by the flowers that Dick had tossed so lightly into her lap. She was
+rather dismayed at her position, and her fingers trembled a little
+over their work. There was a breath--a sudden entering current--of
+antagonism and prejudice that daunted her. Lady Fitzroy cast an
+admiring look at the girl as she sat there with glowing cheeks and
+downcast lids.
+
+"How pretty she is!" she said, in a low voice, as Mr. Mayne pointed
+out his favorite orchid. "She is like her mother; there is just the
+same quiet style, only I suspect Mrs. Challoner was even better
+looking in her time."
+
+"Humph! yes, I suppose so," returned her host, in a dissatisfied tone.
+He had not brought Lady Fitzroy there to talk of the Challoners, but
+to admire his orchids. Then he shot another glance at Nan between his
+half-closed eyes, and a little spice of malice flavored his next
+words.
+
+"Shall we sit here a moment? Let me see: you were asking me, Lady
+Fitzroy, about Dick's prospects. I was talking to his mother about
+them the other day. I said to her then, Dick must settle in life well;
+he must marry money."
+
+"Indeed?" replied Lady Fitzroy, somewhat absently; she even indulged
+in a slight yawn behind her fan. She liked Dick well enough, as every
+one else did, but she was not partial to his father. How tiresome it
+was of Fitzroy to insist so much on their neighborly duties!
+
+Mr. Mayne was not "one of them," as she would have phrased it; he did
+not speak their language or lead their life; their manners and
+customs, their little tricks and turns of thought were hieroglyphics
+to him.
+
+A man who had never had a grandfather,--at least a grandfather worth
+knowing,--whose father's hands had dabbled in trade,--actually
+trade,--such a one might be a very worthy man, an excellent citizen,
+an exemplary husband and father, but it behooved a woman in her
+position not to descend too freely to his level.
+
+"Percival is such a sad Radical," she would say to herself; "he does
+not make sufficient distinction between people. I should wish to be
+neighborly, but I cannot bring myself to be familiar with these
+Maynes;" which was perhaps the reason why Lady Fitzroy was not as
+popular at Longmead and in other places as her good-natured husband.
+
+"Oh, indeed?" she said, with difficulty repressing another slight yawn
+behind her fan, but speaking in a fatigued voice: but Mr. Mayne was
+too intent on his purpose to notice it.
+
+"If Dick had brothers and sisters it would not matter so much; but
+when one has only a single hope--eh, Lady Fitzroy?--things must be a
+little different then."
+
+"He will have plenty of choice," she returned, with an effort at
+graciousness. "Oldfield is rich in pretty girls:" and she cast another
+approving glance at poor Nan, but Mr. Mayne interrupted her almost
+rudely.
+
+"Ah, as to that," he returned, with a sneer, "we want no such nonsense
+for Dick. Here are the facts of the case. Here is an honest,
+good-tempered young fellow, but with no particular push in him; he has
+money, you say,--yes, but not enough to give him the standing I want
+him to have. I am ambitious for Dick. I want him to settle in life
+well. Why, he might be called to the bar; he might enter Parliament;
+there is no limit to a man's career nowadays. I will do what I can for
+him, but he must meet me half-way."
+
+"You mean," observed Lady Fitzroy, with a little perplexity in her
+tone, "that he must look out for an heiress." She was not in the
+secret, and she could not understand why her host was treating her to
+this outburst of confidence. "It was so disagreeable to be mixed up
+with this sort of thing," as she told her husband afterwards. "I never
+knew him quite so odious before; and there was that pretty Miss
+Challoner sitting near us, and he never let me address a word to
+her."
+
+Nan began to feel she had had enough of it. She started up hastily as
+Lady Fitzroy said the last words, but the entrance of some more young
+people compelled her to stand inside a moment, and she heard Mr.
+Mayne's answer distinctly: "Well, not an heiress exactly; but the girl
+I have in view for him has a pretty little sum of money, and the
+connection is all that could be wished; she is nice-looking, too, and
+is a bright, talking little body----" But here Nan made such a
+resolute effort to pass, that the rest of the sentence was lost upon
+her.
+
+Dick, who was strolling up and down the lawn rather discontentedly,
+hurried up to her as she came out.
+
+"They are playing a valse; come, Nan," he said, holding out his hand
+to her with his usual eagerness; but she shook her head.
+
+"I cannot dance; I am too tired: there are others you ought to ask."
+She spoke a little ungraciously, and Dick's face wore a look of
+dismay, as she walked away from him with quick even footsteps.
+
+Tired! Nan tired! he had never heard of such a thing. What had put her
+out? The sweet brightness had died out of her eyes, and her cheeks
+were flaming. Should he follow her and have it out with her, there and
+then? But, as he hesitated, young Hamilton came over the grass and
+linked his arm in his.
+
+"Come and introduce me to that girl in blue gauze, or whatever you
+call that flimsy manufacture. Come along, there's a good fellow," he
+said, coaxingly; and Dick's opportunity was lost.
+
+But he was wrong; for once in her life Nan was tired; the poor girl
+felt a sudden quenching of her bright elasticity that amounted to
+absolute fatigue.
+
+She had spoken to Dick sharply; but that was to get rid of him and to
+recall him to a sense of his duty. Not for worlds would she be seen
+dancing with him, or even talking to him, again!
+
+She sat down on a stump of a tree in the shrubbery, and wondered
+wearily what had taken it out of her so much. And then she recalled,
+sentence by sentence, everything that had passed in the conservatory.
+
+She had found out quite lately that Mr. Mayne did not approve of her
+intimacy with Dick. His manner had somewhat changed to her, and
+several times he had spoken to her in a carping, fault-finding
+way,--little cut-and-dried sentences of elderly wisdom that she had
+not understood at the time.
+
+She had not pleased him of late, somehow, and all her little efforts
+and overtures had been lost upon him. Nan had been quite aware of
+this, but it had not troubled her much: it was a way he had, and he
+meant nothing by it. Most men had humors that must be respected, and
+Dick's father had his. So she bore herself very sweetly towards him,
+treating his caustic remarks as jokes, and laughing pleasantly at
+them, never taking his hints in earnest; he would know better some
+day, that was all; but she had no idea of any deeply-laid plan against
+their happiness. She felt as though some one had struck her hard; she
+had received a blow that set all her nerves tingling. It was very
+funny, what he said; it was so droll that it almost made her laugh;
+and yet her eyes smarted, and her cheeks felt on fire.
+
+"'Dick must marry money.' Why must he?--that was so droll. 'Well, not
+an heiress exactly, but a pretty little sum of money, and a bright,
+taking little body.' Who was this mysterious person whom he had in
+view, whose connections were so desirable, who was to be Dick's future
+wife? Dick's future wife!" repeated Nan, with an odd little quiver of
+her lip. "And was it not droll, settling it all for him like that?"
+
+Nan fell into a brown study, and then woke up with a little gasp. It
+was all clear to her now, all these cut-and-dried sentences,--all
+those veiled sneers and innuendoes.
+
+They were poor,--poor as church-mice,--and Dick must marry money. Mr.
+Mayne had laid his plans for his son, and was watching their growing
+intimacy with disapproving eyes. Perhaps "the bright, taking little
+body" might accompany them to Switzerland; perhaps among the mountains
+Dick would forget her, and lend a ready acquiescence to his father's
+plans. Who was she? Had Nan ever seen her? Could she be here this
+afternoon, this future rival and enemy of her peace?
+
+"Ah, what nonsense I am thinking!" she exclaimed to herself, starting
+up with a little shame and impatience at her own thoughts. "What has
+this all got to do with me? Let them settle it between
+them,--money-bags and all. Dick is Dick, and after all, I am not
+afraid!" And Nan marched back to the company, with her head higher,
+and a great assumption of cheerfulness, and a little gnawing feeling
+of discomfort at her heart, to which she would not have owned for
+worlds.
+
+Nan was the gayest of the gay that evening, but she would not dance
+again with Dick: she sent the poor boy away from her with a decision
+and peremptoriness that struck him with fresh dismay.
+
+"You are not tired now, Nan; and have been waltzing ever so long with
+Cathcart and Hamilton."
+
+"Never mind about me to-night: you must go and ask Lady Fitzroy. No, I
+am not cross. Do you think I would be cross to you on your birthday?
+but all the same I will not have you neglect your duties. Go and ask
+her this moment, sir!" And Nan smiled in his face in the most
+bewitching way, and gave a little flutter to her fan. She accepted Mr.
+Hamilton's invitation to a valse under Dick's very eyes, and whirled
+away on his arm, while Dick stood looking at her ruefully.
+
+Just at the very last moment Nan's heart relented.
+
+"Walk down to the gate with us," she whispered, as she passed him on
+her way to the cloak-room.
+
+Dick, who was by this time in a somewhat surly humor, make no sort of
+response; nevertheless Nan found him out on the gravel path waiting
+for them in company with Cathcart and Hamilton.
+
+Nan shook off the latter rather cleverly, and took Dick's arm, in
+cheerful unconsciousness of his ill-humor.
+
+"It is so good of you to come with us. I wanted to get you a moment to
+myself, to congratulate you on the success of the evening. It was
+admirably managed; every one says so: even Lady Fitzroy was pleased,
+and her ladyship is a trifle fastidious. Have the band in-doors, and
+set them to dancing,--that is what I said; and it has turned out a
+complete success," finished Nan, with a little gush of enthusiasm; but
+she did not find Dick responsive.
+
+"Oh! bother the success and all that!" returned that very misguided
+young man; "it was the slowest affair to me, I assure you, and I am
+thankful it is over. You have spoiled the evening to me, and that is
+what you have done," grumbled Dick, in his most ominous voice.
+
+"I spoiled your evening, you ungrateful boy!" replied Nan, innocently;
+but she smiled to herself in the darkness, and the reproach was sweet
+to her. They had entered the garden of Glen Cottage by this time, and
+Dick was fiercely marching her down a side-path that led to the
+kitchen. The hall door stood open. Cathcart and Hamilton were
+chattering with the girls in the porch, while Mrs. Challoner went
+inside. They peered curiously into the summer dusk, as Dick's
+impatient footsteps grated on the gravel path.
+
+"I spoiled your evening!" repeated Nan, lifting her bright eyes with
+the gleam of fun still in them.
+
+"Yes," blurted out Dick. "Why have you kept me at such a distance all
+the evening? Why would you not dance with me? and you gave Hamilton
+three valses. It was not like you, Nan, to treat me so,--and on my
+birthday too," went on the poor fellow, with a pathos that brought
+another sort of gleam to Nan's eyes, only she still laughed.
+
+"Ah, you foolish boy!" she said, and gave his coat-sleeve a coaxing
+little pat. "I would rather have danced with you than Mr. Hamilton,
+though he does reverse beautifully, and I never knew any one who
+waltzed more perfectly."
+
+"Oh, I do not presume to rival Hamilton," began Dick hotly, but she
+silenced him.
+
+"Listen to me, you foolish Dick! I would have danced with you, and
+willingly, but I knew my duty better, or rather I knew yours. You were
+a public man to-day; the eyes of the county were upon you. You had to
+pay court to the big ladies, and to take no notice of poor little me.
+I sent you away for your own good, and because I valued your duty
+above my pleasure," continued this heroic young person, in a perfectly
+satisfied tone.
+
+"And you wanted to dance with me, Nan, and not with that goose of a
+Hamilton?" in a wheedling voice.
+
+"Yes, Dick; but he is not a goose for all that: he is more of a swan
+in my opinion."
+
+"He is a conceited ass!" was the very unexpected reply, which was a
+little hard on Dick's chum, who was in many ways a most estimable
+young man and vastly his superior. "Why are you laughing, when you
+know I hate prigs? and Hamilton is about the biggest I ever knew." But
+this did not mend matters, and Nan's laugh still rang merrily in the
+darkness.
+
+"What are those two doing?" asked Phillis, trying to peep between the
+lilac-bushes, but failing to discover more than the white glimmer of
+Nan's shawl.
+
+Nan's laugh, though it was full of sweet triumph, only irritated Dick;
+the lord of the evening was still too sore and humiliated by all these
+rebuffs and repulses to take the fun in good part.
+
+"What is it that amuses you so?" he asked, rather crossly. "That is
+the worst of you girls; you are always so ready to make merry at a
+fellow's expense. You are taking Hamilton's part against me, Nan,--I,
+who am your oldest friend, who have always been faithful to you ever
+since you were a child," continued the young man, with a growing sense
+of aggravation.
+
+"Oh, Dick!" and Nan's voice faltered a little; she was rather touched
+at this.
+
+Dick took instant note of the change of key, and went on in the same
+injured voice:
+
+"Why should I look after all the big people and take no notice of you?
+Have I not made it my first duty to look after you as long as I can
+remember? Though the whole world were about us, would you not be the
+first and the principal to me?"
+
+"Don't, Dick," she said, faintly, trying to repress him; "you must not
+talk in that way, and I must not listen to you; your father would not
+like it." The words were sweet to her,--precious beyond
+everything,--but she must not have him speak them. But Dick, in his
+angry excitement, was not to be repressed.
+
+"What does it matter what he likes? This is between you and me, Nan;
+no one shall meddle between us two." But what imprudent speech Dick
+was about to add was suddenly quenched in light-pealing laughter. At
+this critical moment they were met and surrounded; before them was the
+red glow of Cathcart's cigar, the whiteness of Phillis's gown; behind
+were two more advancing figures. In another second the young people
+had joined hands: a dusky ring formed round the startled pair.
+
+"Fairly caught!" cried Dulce's sunshiny voice; the mischievous little
+monkey had no idea of the sport she was spoiling. None of the young
+people thought of anything but fun; Dick was just Dick, and he and Nan
+were always together.
+
+Dick muttered something inaudible under his breath; but Nan was quite
+equal to the occasion; she was still palpitating a little with the
+pleasure Dick's words had given her, but she confronted her tormentors
+boldly.
+
+"You absurd creatures," she said, "to steal a march on us like that!
+Dick and I were having a quarrel; we were fighting so hard that we did
+not hear you."
+
+"I enjoy a good fight above everything," exclaimed Cathcart, throwing
+away his cigar. He was a handsome dark-eyed boy, with no special
+individuality, except an overweening sense of fun. "What's the odds,
+Mayne? and who is likely to be the winner?"
+
+"Oh, Nan, of course," returned Dick, trying to recover himself. "I am
+the captive of her spear and of her bow: she is in possession of
+everything, myself included."
+
+The rest laughed at Dick's jest, as they thought it; and Mr. Hamilton
+said, "Bravo, Miss Challoner! we will help to drag him at your
+chariot-wheels." But Nan changed color in the darkness.
+
+They went in after this, and the young men took their leave in the
+porch. Dick's strong grip of the hand conveyed his meaning fully to
+Nan: "Remember, I meant it all," it seemed to say to her.
+
+"What did it matter? I am quite sure of him. Dick is Dick," thought
+Nan, as she laid her head happily on the pillow.
+
+As for Dick, he had a long ordeal before him ere he could make his
+escape to the smoking-room, where his friends awaited him. Mr. Mayne
+had a great deal to say to him about the day, and Dick had to listen
+and try to look interested.
+
+"I am sure Dick behaved beautifully," observed Mrs. Mayne, when the
+son and heir had at last lounged off to his companions.
+
+"Well, yes; he did very well on the whole," was the grudging response;
+"but I must say those Challoner girls made themselves far too
+conspicuous for my taste;" but to this his wife prudently made no
+reply.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+MR. TRINDER'S VISIT.
+
+
+The next few days passed far too quickly for Nan's pleasure, and
+Dick's last morning arrived. The very next day the Maynes were to
+start for Switzerland, and Longmead was to stand empty for the
+remainder of the summer. It was a dreary prospect for Nan, and in
+spite of her high spirits her courage grew somewhat low. Six months!
+who could know what might happen before they met again? Nan was not
+the least bit superstitious, neither was it her wont to indulge in
+useless speculations or forebodings; but she could not shake off this
+morning a strange uncanny feeling that haunted her in spite of
+herself--a presentiment that things were not going to be just as she
+would have them,--that Dick and she would not meet again in exactly
+the same manner.
+
+"How silly I am!" she thought, for the twentieth time, as she brushed
+out her glossy brown hair and arranged it in her usual simple
+fashion.
+
+Nan and her sisters were a little behind the times in some ways; they
+had never thought fit to curl their hair _en garcon_, or to mount a
+pyramid of tangled curls in imitation of a poodle; no pruning scissors
+had touched the light-springing locks that grew so prettily about
+their temples; in this, as in much else, they were unlike other girls,
+for they dared to put individuality before fashion, and good taste and
+a sense of beauty against the specious arguments of the multitude.
+
+"How silly I am!" again repeated Nan. "What can happen, what should
+happen, except that I shall have a dull summer, and shall be very glad
+when Christmas and Dick come together;" and then she shook her little
+basket of housekeeping keys until they jingled merrily, and ran
+downstairs with a countenance she meant to keep bright for the rest of
+the day.
+
+They were to play tennis at the Paines' that afternoon, and afterwards
+the three girls were to dine at Longmead. Mrs. Challoner had been
+invited also; but she had made some excuse, and pleaded for a quiet
+evening. She was never very ready to accept these invitations; there
+was nothing in common between her and Mrs. Mayne; and in her heart she
+agreed with Lady Fitzroy in thinking the master of Longmead odious.
+
+It was Mr. Mayne who had tendered this parting hospitality to his
+neighbors, and he chose to be much offended at Mrs. Challoner's
+refusal.
+
+"I think it is very unfriendly of your mother, when we are such old
+neighbors, and on our last evening, too," he said to Nan, as she
+entered the drawing-room that evening bringing her mother's excuses
+wrapped up in the prettiest words she could find.
+
+"Mother is not quite well; she does not feel up to the exertion of
+dining out to-night," returned Nan, trying to put a good face on it,
+but feeling as though things were too much for her this evening. It
+was bad enough for Mr. Mayne to insist on them all coming up to a long
+formal dinner, and spoiling their chances of a twilight stroll; but it
+was still worse for her mother to abandon them after this fashion.
+
+The new novel must have had something to do with this sudden
+indisposition; but when Mrs. Challoner had wrapped herself up in her
+white shawl, always a bad sign with her, and had declared herself
+unfit for any exertion, what could a dutiful daughter do but deliver
+her excuses as gracefully as she could? Nevertheless, Mr. Mayne
+frowned and expressed himself ill pleased.
+
+"I should have thought an effort could have been made on such an
+occasion," was his final thrust, as he gave his arm ungraciously to
+Nan, and conducted her with ominous solemnity to the table.
+
+It was not a festive meal, in spite of all Mrs. Mayne's efforts. Dick
+looked glum. He was separated from Nan by a vast silver epergne, that
+fully screened her from view. Another time she would have peeped
+merrily round at him and given him a sprightly nod or two; but how was
+she to do it when Mr. Mayne never relaxed his gloomy muscles, and when
+he insisted on keeping up a ceremonious flow of conversation with her
+on the subjects of the day?
+
+When Dick tried to strike into their talk, he got so visibly snubbed
+that he was obliged to take refuge with Phillis.
+
+"You young fellows never know what you are talking about," observed
+Mr. Mayne, sharply, when Dick had hazarded a remark about the
+Premier's policy; "you are a Radical one day, and a Conservative
+another. That comes of your debating societies. You take contrary
+sides, and mix up a balderdash of ideas, until you don't know whether
+you are standing on your head or your heels;" and it was after this
+that Dick found his refuge with Phillis.
+
+It was little better when they were all in the drawing-room together.
+If Mr. Mayne had invited them there for the purpose of keeping them
+all under his own eyes and making them uncomfortable, he could not
+have managed better. When Dick suggested a stroll in the garden, he
+said,--
+
+"Pshaw! what nonsense proposing such a thing, when the dews are heavy
+and the girls will catch their deaths of cold!"
+
+"We do it every evening of our life," observed Nan, hardily; but even
+she dared not persevere in the face of this protest, though she
+exchanged a rebellious look with Dick that did him good and put him in
+a better humor.
+
+They found their way into the conservatory after that, but were hunted
+out on pretence of having a little music; at least Nan would have it
+that it was pretence.
+
+"Your father does not care much for music, I know," she whispered, as
+she placed herself at the grand piano, while Dick leaned against it
+and watched her. It was naughty of Nan, but there was no denying that
+she found Mr. Mayne more aggravating than usual this evening.
+
+"Come, come, Miss Nancy!" he called out,--he always called her that
+when he wished to annoy her, for Nan had a special dislike to her
+quaint, old-fashioned name; it had been her mother's and grandmother's
+name; in every generation there had been a Nancy Challoner,--"come,
+come, Miss Nancy! we cannot have you playing at hide-and-seek in this
+fashion. We want some music. Give us something rousing, to keep us all
+awake." And Nan had reluctantly placed herself at the piano.
+
+She did her little best according to orders, for she dared not offend
+Dick's father. None of the Challoners were accomplished girls. Dulce
+sang a little, and so did Nan, but Phillis could not play the simplest
+piece without bungling and her uncertain little warblings, which were
+sweet but hardly true, were reserved for church.
+
+Dulce sang very prettily, but she could only manage her own
+accompaniments or a sprightly valse. Nan, who did most of the
+execution of the family, was a very fair performer from a young lady's
+point of view, and that is not saying much. She always had her piece
+ready if people wanted her to play. She sat down without nervousness
+and rose without haste. She had a choice little repertory of old songs
+and ballads, that she could produce without hesitation from
+memory,--"My mother bids me bind my hair," or "Bid your faithful Ariel
+fly," and such-like old songs, in which there is more melody than in a
+hundred new ones, and which she sang in a simple, artless fashion that
+pleased the elder people greatly. Dulce could do more than this, but
+her voice had never been properly tutored, and she sang her bird-music
+in bird-fashion, rather wildly and shrilly, with small respect to
+rule and art, nevertheless making a pleasing noise, a young foreigner
+once told her.
+
+When Nan had exhausted her little stock, Mr. Mayne peremptorily
+invited them to a round game; and the rest of the evening was spent in
+trying to master the mysteries of a new game, over the involved rules
+of which Mr. Mayne as usual, wrangled fiercely with everybody, while
+Dick shrugged his shoulders and shuffled his cards with such evident
+ill-humor that Nan hurried her sisters away half an hour before the
+usual time, in terror of an outbreak.
+
+It was an utterly disappointing evening; and, to make matters worse,
+Mr. Mayne actually lit his cigar and strolled down the garden-paths,
+keeping quite close to Nan, and showing such obvious intention of
+accompanying them to the very gate of the cottage that there could be
+no thought of any sweet lingering in the dusk.
+
+"I will be even with him," growled Dick, who was in a state of
+suppressed irritation under this unexpected surveillance; and in the
+darkest part of the road he twitched Nan's sleeve to attract her
+attention, and whispered, in so low a voice that his father could not
+hear him, "This is not good-bye. I will be round at the cottage
+to-morrow morning;" and Nan nodded hurriedly, and then turned her head
+to answer Mr. Mayne's last question.
+
+If Dick had put all his feelings in his hand-shake, it could not have
+spoken to Nan more eloquently of the young man's wrath and chagrin and
+concealed tenderness. Nan shot him one of her swift straightforward
+looks in answer.
+
+"Nevermind," it seemed to say; "we shall have to-morrow;" and then she
+bade them cheerfully good-night.
+
+Dorothy met her in the hall, and put down her chamber-candlestick.
+
+"Has the mother gone to bed yet, Dorothy?" questioned the young
+mistress, speaking still with that enforced cheerfulness.
+
+"No, Miss Nan; she is still in there," jerking her head in the
+direction of the drawing-room. "Mr. Trinder called, and was with her a
+long time. I thought she seemed a bit poorly when I took in the
+lamp."
+
+"Mamsie is never fit for anything when that old ogre has been," broke
+in Dulce, impatiently. "He always comes and tells her some nightmare
+tale or other to prevent her sleeping. Now we shall not have the new
+gowns we set our hearts on, Nan."
+
+"Oh, never mind the gowns," returned Nan, rather wearily.
+
+What did it matter if they had to wear their old ones when Dick would
+not be there to see them? And Dorothy, who was contemplating her
+favorite nursling with the privileged tenderness of an old servant,
+chimed in with the utmost cheerfulness:
+
+"It does not matter what she wears; does it, Miss Nan? She looks just
+as nice in an old gown as a new one; that is what I say of all my
+young ladies; dress does not matter a bit to them."
+
+"How long are you all going to stand chattering with Dorothy?"
+interrupted Phillis, in her clear decided voice. "Mother will wonder
+what conspiracy we are hatching, and why we leave her so long alone."
+And then Dorothy took up her candlestick, grumbling a little, as she
+often did, over Miss Phillis's masterful ways, and the girls went
+laughingly into their mother's presence.
+
+Though it was summer-time, Mrs. Challoner's easy-chair was drawn up in
+front of the rug, and she sat wrapped in her white shawl, with her
+eyes fixed on the pretty painted fire-screen that hid the blackness of
+the coals. She did not turn her head or move as her daughters entered;
+indeed, so motionless was her attitude that Dulce thought she was
+asleep, and went on tiptoe round her chair to steal a kiss. But Nan,
+who had caught sight of her mother's face, put her quickly aside.
+
+"Don't, Dulce; mother is not well. What is the matter, mammie,
+darling?" kneeling down and bringing her bright face on a level with
+her mother's. She would have taken her into her vigorous young arms,
+but Mrs. Challoner almost pushed her away.
+
+"Hush, children! Do be quiet, Nan; I cannot talk to you. I cannot
+answer questions to-night." And then she shivered, and drew her shawl
+closer round her, and put away Nan's caressing hands, and looked at
+them all with a face that seemed to have grown pinched and old all at
+once, and eyes full of misery.
+
+"Mammie, you must speak to us," returned Nan, not a whit daunted by
+this rebuff, but horribly frightened all the time. "Of course, Dorothy
+told us that Mr. Trinder has been here, and of course we know that it
+is some trouble about money." Then, at the mention of Mr. Trinder's
+name, Mrs. Challoner shivered again.
+
+Nan waited a moment for an answer: but, as none came, she went on in
+coaxing voice:
+
+"Don't be afraid to tell us, mother darling; we can all bear a little
+trouble, I hope. We have had such happy lives, and we cannot go on
+being happy always," continued the girl, with the painful conviction
+coming suddenly into her mind that the brightness of these days was
+over. "Money is very nice, and one cannot do without it, I suppose;
+but as long as we are together and love each other----"
+
+Then Mrs. Challoner fixed her heavy eyes on her daughter and took up
+the unfinished sentence:
+
+"Ah, if we could only be together!--if I were not to be separated from
+my children! it is that--that is crushing me!" and then she pressed
+her dry lips together, and folded her hands with a gesture of despair;
+"but I know that it must be, for Mr. Trinder has told me everything.
+It is no use shutting our eyes and struggling on any longer; for we
+are ruined--ruined!" her voice sinking into indistinctness.
+
+Nan grew a little pale. If they were ruined, how would it be with her
+and Dick! And then she thought of Mr. Mayne, and her heart felt faint
+within her. Nan, who had Dick added to her perplexities, was hardly
+equal to the emergency; but it was Phillis who took the domestic helm
+as it fell from her sister's hand.
+
+"If we be ruined, mother," she said, briskly, "it is not half so bad
+as having you ill. Nan, why don't you rub her hands! she is shivering
+with cold, or with the bad news, or something. I mean to set Dorothy
+at defiance, and to light a nice little fire, in spite of the clean
+muslin curtains. When one is ill or unhappy, there is nothing so
+soothing as a fire," continued Phillis as she removed the screen and
+kindled the dry wood, not heeding Mrs. Challoner's feeble
+remonstrances.
+
+"Don't, Phillis: we shall not be able to afford fires now;" and then
+she became a little hysterical. But Phillis persisted, and the red
+glow was soon coaxed into a cheerful blaze.
+
+"That looks more comfortable. I feel chilly myself; these summer
+nights are sometimes deceptive. I wonder what Dorothy will say to us;
+I mean to ask her to make us all some tea. No, mamma, you are not to
+interfere; it will do you good, and we don't mean to have you ill if
+we can help it." And then she looked meaningly at Nan, and withdrew.
+
+There was no boiling water, of course, and the kitchen fire was raked
+out; and Dorothy was sitting in solitary state, looking very grim.
+
+"It is time for folks to be in their beds, Miss Phillis," she said,
+very crossly. "I don't hold with tea myself so late: it excites
+people, and keeps them awake."
+
+"Mother is not just the thing, and a cup of tea will do her good.
+Don't let us keep you up, Dorothy," replied Phillis, blandly. "I have
+lighted the drawing-room-fire, and I can boil the kettle in there. If
+mother has got a chill, I would not answer for the consequences."
+
+Dorothy grew huffy at the mention of the fire, and would not aid or
+abet her young lady's "fad," as she called it.
+
+"If you don't want me, I think I will go to bed, Miss Phillis. Susan
+went off a long time ago." And, as Phillis cheerfully acquiesced in
+this arrangement, Dorothy decamped with a frown on her brow, and left
+Phillis mistress of the situation.
+
+"There, now, I have got rid of the cross old thing," she observed, in
+a tone of relief, as she filled the kettle and arranged the little
+tea-tray.
+
+She carried them both into the room, poising the tray skilfully in her
+hand. Nan looked up in a relieved way as she entered. Mrs. Challoner
+was stretching out her chilled hands to the blaze. Her face had lost
+its pinched unnatural expression; it was as though the presence of
+her girls fenced her in securely, and her misfortune grew more shadowy
+and faded into the background. She drank the tea when it was given to
+her, and even begged Nan to follow her example. Nan took a little to
+please her, though she hardly believed its solace would be great; but
+Phillis and Dulce drank theirs in a business-like way, as though they
+needed support and were not ashamed to own it. It was Nan who put down
+her cup first, and leaned her cheek against her mother's hand.
+
+"Now, mother dear, we want to hear all about it. Does Mr. Trinder say
+we are really so dreadfully poor?"
+
+"We have been getting poorer for along time," returned her mother,
+mournfully; "but if we had only a little left us I would not complain.
+You see, your father would persist in these investments in spite of
+all Mr. Trinder could say, and now his words have come true." But this
+vague statement did not satisfy Nan; and patiently, and with
+difficulty, she drew from her mother all that the lawyer had told
+her.
+
+Mr. Challoner had been called to the bar early in life, but his career
+had hardly been a successful one. He had held few briefs, and, though
+he worked hard, and had good capabilities, he had never achieved
+fortune; and as he lived up to his income, and was rather fond of the
+good things of this life, he got through most of his wife's money,
+and, contrary to the advice of older and wiser heads, invested the
+remainder in the business of a connection who only wanted capital to
+make his fortune and Mr. Challoner's too.
+
+It was a grievous error; and yet, if Mr. Challoner had lived, those
+few thousands would hardly have been so sorely missed. He was young in
+his profession, and if he had been spared, success would have come to
+him as to other men; but he was cut off unexpectedly in the prime of
+life, and Mrs. Challoner gave up her large house at Kensington, and
+settled at Glen Cottage with her three daughters, understanding that
+life was changed for her, and that they should have to be content with
+small means and few wants.
+
+Hitherto they had had sufficient; but of late there had been dark
+whispers concerning that invested money; things were not quite square
+and above-board; the integrity of the firm was doubted. Mr. Trinder,
+almost with tears in his eyes, begged Mrs. Challoner to be prudent and
+spend less. The crash which he had foreseen, and had vainly tried to
+avert, had come to-night. Gardiner & Fowler were bankrupt, and their
+greatest creditor, Mrs. Challoner, was ruined.
+
+"We cannot get our money. Mr. Trinder says we never shall. They have
+been paying their dividends correctly, keeping it up as a sort of
+blind, he says: but all the capital is eaten away. George Gardiner,
+too, your father's cousin, the man he trusted above every one,--he to
+defraud the widow and the fatherless, to take our money--my children's
+only portion--and to leave us beggared." And Mrs. Challoner, made
+tragical by this great blow, clasped her hands and looked at her girls
+with two large tears rolling down her face.
+
+"Mother, are you sure? is it quite as bad as that?" asked Nan; and
+then she kissed away the tears, and said something rather brokenly
+about having faith, and trying not to lose courage; then her voice
+failed her, and they all sat quiet together.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+PHILLIS'S CATECHISM.
+
+
+A veil of silence fell over the little party. After the first few
+moments of dismay, conjecture, and exclamation, there did not seem to
+be much that any one could say. Each girl was busy with her own
+thoughts and private interpretation of a most sorrowful enigma. What
+were they to do? How were they to live without separation, and without
+taking a solitary plunge into an unknown and most terrifying world?
+
+Nan's frame of mind was slightly monotonous. What would Dick say, and
+how would this affect certain vague hopes she had lately cherished?
+Then she thought of Mr. Mayne, and shivered, and a sense of coldness
+and remote fear stole over her.
+
+One could hardly blame her for this sweet dual selfishness, that was
+not selfishness. She was thinking less of herself than of a certain
+vigorous young life that was becoming strongly entwined with hers. It
+was all very well to say that Dick was Dick; but what could the most
+obstinate will of even that most obstinate young man avail against
+such a miserable combination of adverse influences,--"when the stars
+in their courses fought against Sisera"? And at this juncture of her
+thoughts she could feel Phillis's hand folding softly over hers with a
+most sisterly pressure of full understanding and sympathy. Phillis had
+no Dick to stand sentinel over her private thoughts; she was free to
+be alert and vigilant for others. Nevertheless, her forehead was
+puckered up with hard thinking, and her silence was so very expressive
+that Dulce sat and looked at her with grave unsmiling eyes, the
+innocent child-look in them growing very pathetic at the
+speechlessness that had overtaken them. As for Mrs. Challoner, she
+still moaned feebly from time to time, as she stretched her numb hands
+towards the comforting warmth. They were fine delicate hands, with the
+polished look of old ivory, and there were diamond rings on them that
+twinkled and shone as she moved them in her restlessness.
+
+"They shall all go; I will keep nothing," she said, regarding them
+plaintively; for they were heirlooms, and highly valued as relics of a
+wealthy past. "It is not this sort of thing that I mind. I would live
+on a crust thankfully, if I could only keep my children with me." And
+she looked round at the blooming faces of her girls with eyes brimming
+over with maternal fondness.
+
+Poor Dulce's lips quivered, and she made a horrified gesture.
+
+"Oh, mamsie, don't talk so. I never could bear crusts, unless they
+were well buttered. I like everything to be nice, and to have plenty
+of it,--plenty of sunshine, and fun, and holiday-making, and friends;
+and--and now you are talking as though we must starve, and never have
+anything to wear, and go nowhere and be miserable forever?" And here
+Dulce broke into actual sobs; for was she not the petted darling? and
+had she not had a life so gilded by sunshine that she had never seen
+the dark edge of a single cloud? So that even Nan forgot Dick for a
+moment, and looked at her young sister pityingly; but Phillis
+interposed with bracing severity:
+
+"Don't talk such nonsense, Dulce. Of course we must eat to live, and
+of course we must have clothes to wear. Aren't Nan and I thinking
+ourselves into headaches by trying to contrive how even the crusts you
+so despise are to be bought?" which was hardly true as far as Nan was
+concerned, for she blushed guiltily over this telling point in
+Phillis's eloquence. "It only upsets mother to talk like this." And
+then she touched the coals skilfully, till they spluttered and blazed
+into fury. "There is the Friary, you know," she continued, looking
+calmly round on them, as though she felt herself full of resources.
+"If Dulce chooses to make herself miserable about the crusts, we have,
+at least, a roof to shelter us."
+
+"I forgot the Friary," murmured Nan, looking at her sister with
+admiration; and, though Mrs. Challoner said nothing, she started a
+little as though she had forgotten it too. But Dulce was not to be
+comforted.
+
+"That horrid, dismal, pokey old cottage!" she returned, with a shrill
+rendering of each adjective. "You would have us go and live in that
+damp, musty, fusty place?"
+
+Phillis gave a succession of quick little nods.
+
+"I don't think it particularly dismal, or Nan either," she returned,
+in her brisk way. Phillis always answered for Nan, and was never
+contradicted. "It is not dear Glen Cottage, of course, but we could
+not begin munching our crusts here," she continued, with a certain
+grim humor. Things were apparently at their worst; but at least
+she,--Phillis,--the clever one, as she had heard herself called, would
+do her best to keep the heads of the little family above water. "It is
+a nice little place enough if we were only humble enough to see it;
+and it is not damp, and it is our own," running up the advantages as
+well as she could.
+
+"The Friary!" commented her mother, in some surprise: "to think of
+that queer old cottage coming into your head! And it so seldom lets.
+And people say it is dear at forty pounds a year; and it is so dull
+that they do not care to stay."
+
+"Never mind all that, mammy," returned Phillis, with a grave
+business-like face. "A cottage, rent-free, that will hold us, is not
+to be despised; and Hadleigh is a nice place, and the sea always suits
+you. There is the house, and the furniture, that belongs to us; and we
+have plenty of clothes for the present. How much did Mr. Trinder think
+we should have in hand?"
+
+Then her mother told her, but still mournfully, that they might
+possibly have about a hundred pounds. "But there are my rings and that
+piece of point-lace that Lady Fitzroy admired so----" but Phillis
+waved away that proposition with an impatient frown.
+
+"There is plenty of time for that when we have got through all the
+money. Not that a hundred pounds would last long, with moving, and
+paying off the servants, and all that sort of thing."
+
+Then Nan, who had worn all along an expression of admiring confidence
+in Phillis's resources, originated an idea of her own.
+
+"The mother might write to Uncle Francis, perhaps;" but at this
+proposition Mrs. Challoner sat upright and looked almost offended.
+
+"My dear Nan, what a preposterous idea! Your uncle Francis!"
+
+"Well, mammy, he is our uncle; and I am sure he would be sorry if his
+only brother's children were to starve."
+
+"You are too young to know any better," returned Mrs. Challoner,
+relapsing into alarmed feebleness; "you are not able to judge. But I
+never liked my brother-in-law,--never; he was not a good man. He was
+not a person whom one could trust," continued the poor lady, trying to
+soften down certain facts to her innocent young daughters.
+
+Sir Francis Challoner had been a black sheep,--a very black sheep
+indeed: one who had dyed himself certainly to a most sable hue; and
+though, for such prodigals, there may be a late repentance and much
+killing of fatted calves, still Mrs. Challoner was right in refusing
+to intrust herself and her children to the uncertain mercies of such a
+sinner.
+
+Now, Nan knew nothing about the sin; but she did think that an uncle
+who was a baronet threw a certain reflected glory or brightness over
+them. Sir Francis might be that very suspicious character, a black
+sheep; he might be landless, with the exception of that ruined
+tenement in the North; nevertheless, Nan loved to know that he was of
+their kith and kin. It seemed to settle their claims to
+respectability, and held Mr. Mayne in some degree of awe; and he knew
+that his own progenitors had not the faintest trace of blue blood, and
+numbered more aldermen than baronets.
+
+It would have surprised and grieved Nan, especially just now, if she
+had known that no such glory remained to her,--that Sir Francis
+Challoner had long filled the cup of his iniquities, and lay in his
+wife's tomb in some distant cemetery, leaving a certain red-headed Sir
+Harry to reign in his stead.
+
+"I don't think we had better talk anymore," observed Phillis, somewhat
+brusquely: and then she exchanged meaning looks with Nan. The two
+girls were somewhat dismayed at their mother's wan looks; her
+feebleness and uncertainty of speech, the very vagueness of her
+lamentations, filled them with sad forebodings for the future. How
+were they to leave her, when they commenced that little fight with the
+world? She had leaned on them so long that her helplessness had become
+a matter of habit.
+
+Nan understood her sister's warning glance, and she made no further
+allusion to Sir Francis; she only rose with assumed briskness, and
+took her mother in charge.
+
+"Now I am going to help you to bed, mammy darling," she said,
+cheerfully. "Phillis is quite right: we will not talk any more
+to-night; we shall want all our strength for to-morrow. We will just
+say our prayers, and try and go to sleep, and hope that things may
+turn out better than we expect." And, as Mrs. Challoner was too
+utterly spent to resist this wise counsel, Nan achieved her pious
+mission with some success. She sat down by the bedside and leaned her
+head against her mother's pillow, and soon had the satisfaction of
+hearing the even breathing that proved that the sleeper had forgotten
+her troubles for a little while.
+
+"Poor dear mother! how exhausted she must have been!" thought Nan, as
+she closed the door softly. She was far too anxious and wide awake
+herself to dream of retiring to rest. She was somewhat surprised to
+find her sisters' room dark and empty as she passed. They must be
+still downstairs, talking over things in the firelight: they were as
+little inclined for sleep as she was. Phillis's carefully decocted tea
+must have stimulated them to wakefulness.
+
+The room was still bright with firelight. Dulce was curled up in her
+mother's chair, and had evidently been indulging in what she called "a
+good cry." Phillis, sombre and thoughtful, was pacing the room, with
+her hands clasped behind her head,--a favorite attitude of hers when
+she was in any perplexity. She stopped short as Nan regarded her with
+some astonishment from the threshold.
+
+"Oh, come in, Nan: it will be such a relief to talk to a sensible
+person. Dulce is so silly, she does nothing but cry."
+
+"I can't help it," returned Dulce, with another sob; "everything is so
+horrible, and Phillis will say such dreadful things."
+
+"Poor little soul!" said Nan, in a sympathetic voice, sitting down on
+the arm of the chair and stroking Dulce's hair; "it is very hard for
+her and for us all," with a pent-up sigh.
+
+"Of course it is hard," retorted Phillis, confronting them rather
+impatiently from the hearth-rug; "it is bitterly hard. But it is not
+worse for Dulce than for the rest of us. Crying will not mend matters,
+and it is a sheer waste of tears. As I tell her, what we have to do
+now is to make the best of things, and see what is to be done under
+the circumstances."
+
+"Yes, indeed," repeated Nan, meekly; but she put her arm round Dulce,
+and drew her head against her shoulder. The action comforted Dulce,
+and her tears soon ceased to flow.
+
+"I am thinking about mother," went on Phillis, pondering her words
+slowly as she spoke; "she does look so ill and weak. I do not see how
+we are to leave her."
+
+Mrs. Challoner's moral helplessness and dread of responsibility were
+so sacred in her daughters' eyes that they rarely alluded to them
+except in this vague fashion. For years they had shielded and petted
+her, and given way to her little fads and fancies, until she had
+developed into a sort of gentle hypochondriac.
+
+"Mother cannot bear this; we always keep these little worries from
+her," Nan had been accustomed to say; and the others had followed her
+example.
+
+The unspoken thought lay heavy upon them now. How were they to prevent
+the rough winds of adversity from blowing too roughly upon their
+cherished charge? The roof, and perhaps the crust, might be theirs;
+but how were they to contrive that she should not miss her little
+comforts? They would gladly work; but how, and after what fashion?
+
+Phillis was the first to plunge into the unwelcome topic, for Nan felt
+almost as helpless and bewildered as Dulce.
+
+"We must go into the thing thoroughly," began Phillis, drawing a chair
+opposite to her sisters. She was very pale, but her eyes had a certain
+brightness of determination. She looked too young for that quiet
+care-worn look that had come so suddenly to her; but one felt she
+could be equal to any emergency. "We are down-hearted, of course; but
+we have plenty of time for all that sort of thing. The question is,
+how are we to live?"
+
+"Just so," observed Nan, rather dubiously; and Dulce gave a little
+gasp.
+
+"There is the Friary standing empty; and there is the furniture; and
+there will be about fifty pounds, perhaps less, when every thing is
+settled. And we have clothes enough to last some time, and----" here
+Dulce put her hands together pleadingly, but Phillis looked at her
+severely, and went on: "Forty or fifty pounds will soon be spent, and
+then we shall be absolutely penniless; we have no one to help us.
+Mother will not hear of writing to Uncle Francis; we must work
+ourselves or starve."
+
+"Couldn't we let lodgings?" hazarded Dulce, with quavering voice; but
+Phillis smiled grimly.
+
+"Let lodgings at the Friary! why, it is only big enough to hold us. We
+might get a larger house in Hadleigh; but no, it would be ruinous to
+fail, and perhaps we should not make it answer. I cannot fancy mother
+living in the basement story; she would make herself wretched over it.
+We are too young. I don't think that would answer, Nan: do you?"
+
+Nan replied faintly that she did not think it would. The mere
+proposition took her breath away. What would Mr. Mayne say to that?
+Then she plucked up spirit and went into the question vigorously.
+
+There were too many lodging-houses in Hadleigh now; it would be a
+hazardous speculation, and one likely to fail; they had not sufficient
+furniture for such a purpose, and they dare not use up their little
+capital too quickly. They were too young, too, to carry out such a
+thing, Nan did not add "and too pretty," though she colored and
+hesitated here. Their mother could not help them; she was not strong
+enough for housework or cooking. She thought that plan must be given
+up.
+
+"We might be daily governesses, and live at home," suggested Dulce,
+who found a sort of relief in throwing out feelers in every direction.
+Nan brightened up visibly at this, but Phillis's moody brow did not
+relax for a moment.
+
+"That would be nice," acquiesced Nan, "and then mother would not find
+the day so long if we came home in the evening; she could busy herself
+about the house, and we could leave her little things to do, and she
+would not find the hours so heavy. I like that idea of yours, Dulce;
+and we are all so fond of children."
+
+"The idea is as nice as possible," replied Phillis, with an ominous
+stress on the noun, "if we could only make it practicable."
+
+"Phil is going to find fault," pouted Dulce, who knew every inflection
+of Phillis's voice.
+
+"Oh, dear, no, nothing of the kind!" she retorted, briskly. "Nan is
+quite right: we all dote on children. I should dearly like to be a
+governess myself; it would be more play than work; but I am only
+wondering who would engage us."
+
+"Who?--oh, anybody!" returned Nan, feeling puzzled by the smothered
+satire of Phillis's speech. "Of course we are not certificated, and I
+for one could only teach young children; but----" here Phillis
+interrupted her:
+
+"Don't think me horrid if I ask you and Dulce some questions, but
+do--do answer me just as though I were going through the Catechism: we
+are only girls, but we must sift the whole thing thoroughly. Are we
+fit for governesses? what can you and I and Dulce teach?"
+
+"Oh, anything!" returned Nan, still more vaguely.
+
+"My dear Nanny, anything won't do. Come, I am really in earnest; I
+mean to catechise you both thoroughly."
+
+"Very well," returned Nan, in a resigned voice; but Dulce looked a
+little frightened. As for Phillis, she sat erect, with her finger
+pointed at them in a severely ominous fashion.
+
+"How about history, Nan? I thought you could never remember dates; you
+used to jumble facts in the most marvellous manner. I remember your
+insisting that Anne of Cleves was Louis XII.'s second wife; and you
+shocked Miss Martin dreadfully by declaring that one of Marlborough's
+victories was fought at Cressy."
+
+"I never could remember historical facts," returned Nan, humbly.
+"Dulce always did better than I; and so did you, Phillis. When I teach
+the children I can have the book before me." But Phillis only shook
+her head at this, and went on:
+
+"Dulce was a shade better, but I don't believe she could tell me the
+names of the English sovereigns in proper sequence;" but Dulce
+disdained to answer. "You were better at arithmetic, Nan. Dulce never
+got through her rule of three; but you were not very advanced even at
+that. You write a pretty hand, and you used to talk French very
+fluently."
+
+"Oh, I have forgotten my French!" exclaimed Nan, in a panic-stricken
+voice. "Dulce, don't you remember me quite settled to talk in French
+over our work three times a week, and we have always forgotten it; and
+we were reading Madame de Sevigne's 'Letters' together, and I found
+the book the other day quite covered with dust."
+
+"I hate French," retuned Dulce, rebelliously. "I began German with
+Phillis, and like it much better."
+
+"True, but we are only beginners," returned the remorseless Phillis:
+"it was very nice, of course, and the Taugenichts' was delicious; but
+think how many words in every sentence you had to hunt out in the
+dictionary. I am glad you feel so competent, Dulce; but I could not
+teach German myself, or French either. I don't remember enough of the
+grammar; and I do not believe Nan does either, though she used to
+chatter so to Miss Martin."
+
+"Did I not say she would pick our idea to pieces?" returned Dulce,
+with tears in her eyes.
+
+"My dear little sister don't look so dreadfully pathetic. I am quite
+as disheartened and disappointed as you are. Nan says she has
+forgotten her French, and she will have to teach history with an open
+book before her; we none of us draw--no, Dulce please let me finish
+our scanty stock of accomplishments. I only know my notes,--for no one
+cares to hear me lumber through my pieces,--and I sing at church. You
+have the sweetest voice Dulce, but it is not trained; and I cannot
+compliment you on your playing. Nan sings and plays very nicely, and
+it is a pleasure to listen to her; but I am afraid she knows little
+about the theory of music, harmony and thorough-bass: you never did
+anything in that way, did you, Nan?"
+
+Nan shook her head sadly. She was too discomfited for speech. Phillis
+looked at them both thoughtfully; her trouble was very real, but she
+could not help a triumphant inflection in her voice.
+
+"Dear Nan, please do not look so unhappy. Dulce, you shall not begin
+to cry again. Don't you remember what mother was reading to us the
+other day, about the country being flooded with incompetent
+governesses,--half-educated girls turned loose on the world to earn
+their living? I can remember one sentence of that writer, word for
+word: 'The standard of education is so high at the present day, and
+the number of certificated reliable teachers so much increased, that
+we can afford to discourage the crude efforts to teach, or un-teach,
+our children.' And then he goes on to ask, 'What has become of womanly
+conscientiousness, when such ignorance presses forward to assume such
+sacred responsibilities? Better the competent nurse than the
+incompetent governess.' 'Why do not these girls,' he asks, 'who,
+through their own fault or the fault of circumstances, are not
+sufficiently advanced to educate others--why do they not rather
+discharge the exquisitely feminine duties of the nursery? What an
+advantage to parents to have their little ones brought into the
+earliest contact with refined speech and cultivated manners,--their
+infant ears not inoculated by barbarous English!'" but here Phillis
+was arrested in her torrent of reflected wisdom by an impatient
+exclamation from Dulce.
+
+"Oh, Nan, do ask her to be quiet! She never stops when she once
+begins. How can we listen to such rubbish, when we are so wretched?
+You may talk for hours, Phil, but I never, never will be a nurse!" And
+Dulce hid her face on Nan's shoulder in such undisguised distress that
+her sisters had much ado to comfort her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+"WE SHOULD HAVE TO CARRY PARCELS."
+
+
+It was hard work to tranquillize Dulce.
+
+"I never, never will be a nurse!" she sobbed out at intervals.
+
+"You little goose, who ever thought of such a thing? Why will you
+misunderstand me so?" sighed Phillis, almost in despair at her
+sister's impracticability. "I am only trying to prove to you and Nan
+that we are not fit for governesses."
+
+"No, indeed; I fear you are right there," replied poor Nan, who had
+never realized her deficiences before. They were all bright, taking
+girls, with plenty to say for themselves, lady-like, and well-bred.
+Who would have thought that, when weighed in the balance, they would
+have been found so wanting? "I always knew I was a very stupid person;
+but you are different,--you are so clever, Phil."
+
+"Nonsense, Nanny! It is a sort of cleverness for which there is no
+market. I am fond of reading. I remember things, and do a great deal
+of thinking; but I am destitute of accomplishments: my knowledge of
+languages is purely superficial. We are equal to other girls,--just
+young ladies, and nothing more; but when it comes to earning our
+bread-and-butter----" Here Phillis paused, and threw out her hands
+with a little gesture of despair.
+
+"But you work so beautifully; and so does Nan," interrupted Dulce, who
+was a little comforted, now she knew Phillis had no prospective
+nurse-maid theory in view. "I am good at it myself," she continued,
+modestly, feeling that, in this case, self-praise was allowable. "We
+might be companions,--some nice old lady who wants her caps made, and
+requires some one to read to her," faltered Dulce, with her child-like
+pleading look.
+
+Nan gave her a little hug; but she left the answer to Phillis, who
+went at once into a brown study, and only woke up after a long
+interval.
+
+"I am looking at it all round," she said, when Nan at last pressed for
+her opinion; "it is not a bad idea. I think it very possible that
+either you or I, Nan,--or both, perhaps,--might find something in that
+line to suit us. There are old ladies everywhere; and some of them are
+rich and lonely and want companions."
+
+"You have forgotten me?" exclaimed Dulce, with natural jealousy, and a
+dislike to be overlooked, inherent in most young people. "And it is I
+who have always made mammy's caps and you know how Lady Fitzroy
+praised the last one."
+
+"Yes, yes; we know all that," returned Phillis, impatiently. "You are
+as clever as possible with your fingers; but one of us must stop with
+mother, and you are the youngest, Dulce; that is what I meant by
+looking at it all round. If Nan and I were away, it would never do for
+you and mother to live at the Friary. We could not afford a servant,
+and we should want the forty pounds a year to pay for bare
+necessaries; for our salary would not be very great. You would have to
+live in lodgings,--two little rooms, that is all; and even then I am
+afraid you and mother would be dreadfully pinched, for we should have
+to dress ourselves properly in other people's houses."
+
+"Oh, Phillis, that would not do at all!" exclaimed Nan, in a voice of
+despair. She was very pale by this time: full realization of all this
+trouble was coming to her, as it had come to Phillis. "What shall we
+do? Who will help us to any decision? How are you and I to go away and
+live luxuriously in other people's houses, and leave mother and Dulce
+pining in two shabby little rooms, with nothing to do, and perhaps not
+enough to eat, and mother fretting herself ill, and Dulce losing her
+bloom? I could not rest; I could not sleep for thinking of it. I would
+rather take in plain needlework, and live on dry bread if we could
+only be together, and help each other."
+
+"So would I," returned Phillis, in an odd, muffled voice.
+
+"And I too," rather hesitatingly from Dulce.
+
+"If we could only live at the Friary, and have Dorothy to do all the
+rough work," sighed Nan, with a sudden yearning towards even that very
+shabby ark of refuge: "if we could only be together, and see each
+other every day, things would not be quite so dreadful."
+
+"I am quite of your opinion," was Phillis's curt observation: but
+there was a sudden gleam in her eyes.
+
+"I have heard of ladies working for fancy-shops; do you think we could
+do something of that kind?" asked Nan, anxiously. "Even mother could
+help us in that; and Dulce does work so beautifully. It is all very
+well to say we have no accomplishments," went on Nan, with apathetic
+little laugh, "but you know that no other girls work as we do. We have
+always made our own dresses. And Lady Fitzroy asked me once who was
+our dressmaker, because she fitted us so exquisitely; and I was so
+proud of telling her that we always did our own, with Dorothy to
+help----"
+
+"Nan," interrupted Phillis, eagerly, and there was a great softness in
+her whole mien, and her eyes were glistening,--"dear Nan, do you love
+us all so that you could give up the whole world for our sakes,--for
+the sake of living together, I mean?"
+
+Nan hesitated. Did the whole world involve Dick, and could even her
+love for her sisters induce her voluntarily to give him up? Phillis,
+who was quick-witted, read the doubt in a moment, and hastened to
+qualify her words:
+
+"The outside world, I mean,--mere conventional acquaintances, not
+friends. Do you think you could bear to set society at defiance, to
+submit to be sent to Coventry for our sakes; to do without it, in fact
+to live in a little world of our own and make ourselves happy in it?"
+
+"Ah, Phillis, you are so clever, and I don't understand you," faltered
+Nan. It was not Dick she was to give up; but what could Phillis mean?
+"We are all fond of society; we are like other girls, I suppose. But
+if we are to be poor and work for our living, I dare say people will
+give us up."
+
+"I am not meaning that," returned her sister, earnestly; "it is
+something far harder, something far more difficult, something that
+will be a great sacrifice and cost us all tremendous efforts. But if
+we are to keep a roof over our heads, if we are to live together in
+anything like comfort, I don't see what else we can do, unless we go
+out as companions and leave mother and Dulce in lodgings."
+
+"Oh, no, no; pray don't leave us!" implored Dulce, feeling that all
+her strength and comfort lay near Nan.
+
+"I will not leave you, dear, if I can possibly help it," returned Nan,
+gently. "Tell us what you mean, Phillis, for I see you have some sort
+of plan in your head. There is nothing,--nothing," she continued, more
+firmly, "that I would not do to make mother and Dulce happy. Speak
+out; you are half afraid that I shall prove a coward, but you shall
+see."
+
+"Dear Nan, no; you are as brave as possible. I am rather a coward
+myself. Yes; I have a plan; but you have yourself put it into my head
+by saying what you did about Lady Fitzroy."
+
+"About Lady Fitzroy?"
+
+"Yes; your telling her about our making our own dresses. Nan, you are
+right: needlework is our forte; nothing is a trouble to us. Few girls
+have such clever fingers, I believe; and then you and Dulce have such
+taste. Mrs. Paine once told me that we were the best-dressed girls in
+the neighborhood, and she wished Carrie looked half as well. I am
+telling you this, not from vanity, but because I do believe we can
+turn our one talent to account. We should be miserable governesses; we
+do not want to separate and seek situations as lady helps or
+companions; we do not mean to fail in letting lodgings; but if we do
+not succeed as good dressmakers, never believe me again."
+
+"Dressmakers!" almost shrieked Dulce. But Nan, who had expressed
+herself willing to take in plain needlework, only looked at her sister
+with mute gravity; her little world was turned so completely upside
+down, everything was so unreal, that nothing at this moment could have
+surprised her.
+
+"Dressmakers!" she repeated, vaguely.
+
+"Yes, yes," replied Phillis, still more eagerly. The inspiration had
+come to her in a moment, full-fledged and grown up, like Minerva from
+the head of Jupiter. Just from those chance words of Nan's she had
+grasped the whole thing in a moment. Now, indeed she felt that she was
+clever; here at least was something striking and original; she took no
+notice of Dulce's shocked exclamation; she fixed her eyes solemnly on
+Nan. "Yes, yes; what does it matter what the outside world says? We
+are not like other girls; we never were; people always said we were so
+original. Necessity strikes out strange paths some times. We could not
+do such a thing here; no, no, I never could submit to that myself," as
+Nan involuntarily shuddered; "but at Hadleigh, where no one knows us,
+where we shall be among strangers. And then, you see, Miss Monks is
+dead."
+
+"Oh, dear! oh, dear! what does she mean?" cried Dulce, despairingly;
+"and what do we care about Miss Monks, if the creature be dead, or
+about Miss Anybody, if we have got to do such dreadful things?"
+
+"My dear," returned Phillis, with compassionate irony, "if we had to
+depend upon you for ideas----" and here she made an eloquent pause.
+"Our last tenant for the Friary was Miss Monks, and Miss Monks was a
+dressmaker; and, though perhaps I ought not to say it, it does seem a
+direct leading of Providence, putting such a thought into my head."
+
+"I am afraid Dulce and I are very slow and stupid," returned Nan,
+putting her hair rather wearily from her face: her pretty color had
+quite faded during the last half-hour. "I think if you would tell us
+plainly, exactly what you mean, Phillis, we should be able to
+understand everything better."
+
+"My notion is this," began Phillis, slowly: "remember, I have not
+thought it quite out, but I will give you my ideas just as they occur
+to me. We will not say anything to mother just yet, until we have
+thoroughly digested our plan. You and I, Nan, will run down to the
+Friary, and reconnoitre the place, judge of its capabilities, and so
+forth; and when we come back we will hold a family council."
+
+"That will be best," agreed Nan, who remembered, with sudden feelings
+of relief, that Dick and his belongings would be safe in the Engadine
+by that time. "But, Phillis, do you really and truly believe that we
+could carry out such a scheme?"
+
+"Why not?" was the bold answer. "If we can work for ourselves, we can
+for other people. I have a presentiment that we shall achieve a
+striking success. We will make the old Friary as comfortable as
+possible," she continued, cheerfully. "The good folk of Hadleigh will
+be rather surprised when they see our pretty rooms. No horse-hair
+sofa; no crochet antimacassars or hideous wax flowers; none of the
+usual stock-in-trade. Dorothy will manage the house for us; and we
+will all sit and work together, and mother will help us, and read to
+us. Aren't you glad, Nan, that we all saved up for that splendid
+sewing-machine?"
+
+"I do believe there is something, after all, in what you say," was
+Nan's response; but Dulce was not so easily won over.
+
+"Do you mean to say that we shall put up a brass plate on the door,
+with 'Challoner, dressmaker,' on it?" she observed, indignantly. A red
+glow mounted to Nan's forehead; and even Phillis looked disconcerted.
+
+"I never thought of that: well, perhaps not. We might advertise at the
+Library, or put cards in the shops. I do not think mother would ever
+cross the threshold if she saw a brass plate."
+
+"No, no; I could not bear that," said Nan, faintly. A dim vision of
+Dick standing at the gate, ruefully contemplating their name--her
+name--in juxtaposition with "dressmaker," crossed her mind directly.
+
+"But we should have to carry parcels, and stand in people's halls, and
+perhaps fit Mrs. Squails, the grocer's wife,--that fat old thing, you
+know. How would you like to make a dress for Mrs. Squails, Phil?"
+asked Dulce, with the malevolent desire of making Phillis as
+uncomfortable as possible; but Phillis, who had rallied from her
+momentary discomfiture, was not to be again worsted.
+
+"Dulce, you talk like a child; you are really a very silly little
+thing. Do you think any work can degrade us or that we shall not be as
+much gentlewomen at Hadleigh as we are here?"
+
+"But the parcels?" persisted Dulce.
+
+"I do not intend to carry any," was the imperturbable reply, "Dorothy
+will do that; or we will hire a boy. As for waiting in halls, I don't
+think any one will ask me to do that, as I should desire to be shown
+into a room at once; and as for Mrs. Squails, if the poor old woman
+honors me with her custom, I will turn her out a gown that shall be
+the envy of Hadleigh."
+
+Dulce did not answer this, but the droop of her lip was piteous; it
+melted Phillis at once.
+
+"Oh, do cheer up, you silly girl!" she said, with a coaxing face.
+"What is the good of making ourselves more miserable than we need? If
+you prefer the two little rooms with mother, say so; and Nan and I
+will look out for old ladies at once."
+
+"No! no! Oh, pray don't leave me!" still more piteously.
+
+"Well, what will you have us do? we cannot starve; and we don't mean
+to beg. Pluck up a little spirit, Dulce; see how good Nan is! You have
+no idea how comfortable we should be!" she went on, with judicious
+word-painting. "We should all be together,--that is the great thing.
+Then we could talk over our work; and in the afternoon, when we felt
+dreary, mother could read some interesting novel to us,"--a tremulous
+sigh from Nan at this point.
+
+What a contrast to the afternoons at Glen Cottage,--tennis, and
+five-o'clock tea, and the company of their young friends! Phillis
+understood the sigh, and hurried on.
+
+"It will not be always work. We will have long country walks in the
+evening; and then, there will be the garden and the sea-shore. Of
+course we must have exercise and recreation, I am afraid we shall have
+to do without society, for no one will visit ladies under such
+circumstances; but I would rather do without people than without each
+other, and so would Nan."
+
+"Yes, indeed!" broke in Nan; and now the tears were in her eyes.
+
+Dulce grew suddenly ashamed of herself. She got up in a little flurry,
+and kissed them both.
+
+"I was very naughty; but I did not mean to be unkind. I would rather
+carry parcels, and stand in halls,--yes, and even make gowns for Mrs.
+Squails,--than lose you both. I will be good. I will not worry you any
+more, Phil, with my nonsense; and I will work; you will see how I will
+work," finished Dulce, breathlessly.
+
+"There's a darling!" said Nan; and then she added, in a tired voice,
+"But it is two o'clock; and Dick is coming this morning to say
+good-bye; and I want to ask you both particularly not to say a word to
+him about this. Let him go away and enjoy himself, and think we are
+going on as usual; it would spoil his holiday; and there is always
+time enough for bad news," went on Nan, with a little tremble of her
+lip.
+
+"Dear Nan, we understand," returned Phillis, gently; "and you are
+right, as you always are. And now to bed,--to bed," she continued, in
+a voice of enforced cheerfulness; and then they all kissed each other
+very quietly and solemnly, and crept up as noiselessly as possible to
+their rooms.
+
+Phillis and Dulce shared the same room; but Nan had a little chamber
+to herself very near her mother's: a door connected the two rooms. Nan
+closed this carefully, when she had ascertained that Mrs. Challoner
+was still sleeping, and then sat down by the window, and looked out
+into the gray glimmering light that preceded the dawn.
+
+Sleep; how could she sleep with all these thoughts surging through her
+mind, and knowing that in a few hours Dick would come and say
+good-bye? and here Nan broke down, and had such a fit of crying as she
+had not had since her father died,--nervous, uncontrollable tears,
+that it was useless to stem in her tired, overwrought state.
+
+They exhausted her, and disposed her for sleep. She was so chilled and
+weary that she was glad to lie down in bed at last and close her eyes;
+and she had scarcely done so before drowsiness crept over her, and she
+knew no more until she found the sunshine flooding her little room,
+and Dorothy standing by her bed asking rather crossly why no one
+seemed disposed to wake this beautiful morning.
+
+"Am I late? Oh, I hope I am not late!" exclaimed Nan, springing up in
+a moment. She dressed herself in quite a flurry, for fear she should
+keep any one waiting. It was only at the last moment she remembered
+the outburst of the previous night, and wondered with some dismay what
+Dick would think of her pale cheeks and the reddened lines round her
+eyes, and only hoped that he would not attribute them to his going
+away. Nan was only just in time, for as she entered the breakfast-room
+Dick came through the veranda and put in his head at the window.
+
+"Not at breakfast yet? and where are the others?" he asked in some
+surprise, for the Challoners were early people, and very regular in
+their habits.
+
+"We sat up rather late last night, talking," returned Nan, giving him
+her hand without looking at him, and yet Dick showed to advantage this
+morning in his new tweed travelling suit.
+
+"Well, I have only got ten minutes. I managed to give the pater the
+slip: he will be coming after me, I believe, if I stay longer. This is
+first-rate, having you all to myself this last morning. But what's up,
+Nan? you don't seem quite up to the mark. You are palish, you know,
+and----" here Dick paused in pained embarrassment. Were those traces
+of tears? had Nan really been crying? was she sorry about his going
+away? And now there was an odd lump in Dick's throat.
+
+Nan understood the pause and got frightened.
+
+"It is nothing. I have a slight headache; there was a little domestic
+worry that wanted putting to right," stammered Nan; "it worried me,
+for I am stupid at such things, you know."
+
+She was explaining herself somewhat lamely, and to no purpose, for
+Dick did not believe her in the least. "Domestic worry!" as though she
+cared for such rubbish as that; as though any amount could make her
+cry,--her, his bright, high spirited Nan! No; she had been fretting
+about their long separation, and his father's unkindness, and the
+difficulties ahead of them.
+
+"I want you to give me a rose," he said, suddenly, _a propos_ of
+nothing, as it seemed; but looking up, Nan caught a wistful gleam in
+his eyes, and hesitated. Was it not Dick who had told her that
+anecdote about the queen, or was it Lothair? and did not a certain
+meaning attach to this gift? Dick was forever picking roses for her;
+but he had never given her one, except with that meaning look on his
+face.
+
+"You are hesitating," he said, reproachfully; "and on my last morning,
+when we shall not see each other for months;" And Nan moved towards
+the veranda slowly, and gathered a crimson one without a word, and put
+it in his hand.
+
+"Thank you," he said, quite quietly; but he detained the hand as well
+as the rose for a moment. "One day I will show you this again, and
+tell you what it means if you do not know; and then we shall see, ah,
+Nan, my----" He paused as Phillis's step entered the room, and said
+hurriedly, in a low voice, "Good-bye; I will not go in again. I don't
+want to see any of them, only you,--only you. Good-bye: take care of
+yourself for my sake, Nan." And Dick looked at her wistfully, and
+dropped her hand.
+
+"Has he gone?" asked Phillis, looking up in surprise as her sister
+came through the open window; "has he gone without finding anything
+out?"
+
+"Yes, he has gone, and he does not know anything," replied Nan, in a
+subdued voice, as she seated herself behind the urn. It was over now,
+and she was ready for anything. "Take care of yourself for my sake,
+Nan!"--that was ringing in her ears; but she had not said a word in
+reply. Only the rose lay in his hand,--her parting gift, and perhaps
+her parting pledge.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+A LONG DAY.
+
+
+Nan never recalled the memory of that "long gray day," as she inwardly
+termed it, without a shiver of discomfort.
+
+Never but once in her bright young life had she known such a day, and
+that was when her dead father lay in the darkened house, and her
+widowed mother had crept weeping into her arms as to her only
+remaining refuge; but that stretched so far back into the past that it
+had grown into a vague remembrance.
+
+It was not only that Dick was gone, though the pain of that separation
+was far greater than she would have believed possible, but a moral
+earthquake had shattered their little world, involving them in utter
+chaos.
+
+It was only yesterday that she was singing ballads in the Longmead
+drawing-room,--only yesterday; but to-day everything was changed. The
+sun shone, the birds sang, every one ate and drank and moved about as
+usual. Nan talked and smiled, and no stranger would have guessed that
+much was amiss; nevertheless, a weight lay heavy on her spirits, and
+Nan knew in her secret heart that she could never be again the same
+light-hearted, easy-going creature that she was yesterday.
+
+Later on, the sisters confessed to each other that the day had been
+perfectly interminable; the hours dragged on slowly; the sun seemed as
+though it never meant to set; and to add to their trouble, their
+mother looked so ill when she came downstairs, wrapped in her soft
+white shawl in spite of the heat, that Nan thought of sending for a
+doctor, and only refrained at the remembrance that they had no right
+to such luxuries now except in cases of necessity.
+
+Then Dorothy was in one of her impracticable moods, throwing cold
+water on all her young mistress's suggestions, and doing her best to
+disarrange the domestic machinery. Dorothy suspected a mystery
+somewhere; her young ladies had sat up half the night, and looked pale
+and owlish in the morning. If they chose to keep her in the dark and
+not take her into their confidence, it was their affair; but she meant
+to show them what she thought of their conduct. So she contradicted
+and snapped, until Nan told her wearily that she was a disagreeable
+old thing, and left her and Susan to do as they liked. She knew Mr.
+Trinder was waiting for her in the dining-room, and, as Mrs. Challoner
+was not well enough to see him, she and Phillis must entertain him.
+
+He had slept at a friend's house a few miles from Oldfield, and was to
+lunch at Glen Cottage and take the afternoon train to London.
+
+He was not sorry when he heard that Mrs. Challoner was too indisposed
+to receive him. In spite of his polite expressions of regret, he had
+found the poor lady terribly trying on the previous evening. She was a
+bad manager, and had muddled her affairs, and she did not seem to
+understand half of what he told her; and her tears and lamentations
+when she had realized the truth had been too much for the soft hearted
+old bachelor, though people did call him a woman-hater.
+
+"But I never could bear to see a woman cry; it is as bad as watching
+an animal in pain," he half growled, as he drew out his red
+pocket-handkerchief and used it rather noisily.
+
+It was easier work to explain everything to these two bright, sensible
+girls. Phillis listened and asked judicious questions; but Nan sat
+with downcast face, plaiting the table-cloth between her restless
+fingers, and thinking of Dick at odd intervals.
+
+She took it all in, however, and roused up in earnest when Mr. Trinder
+had finished his explanations, and Phillis began to talk in her turn;
+she was actually taking the old lawyer into her confidence, and
+detailing their scheme in the most business-like way.
+
+"The mother does not know yet,--this is all in confidence; but Nan and
+I have made up our minds to take this step," finished the young
+philosopher, calmly.
+
+"Bless my soul," ejaculated Mr. Trinder,--he had given vent to this
+expression at various intervals, but had not further interrupted her.
+"Bless my soul! my dear young ladies, I think--but excuse me if I am
+too abrupt, but you must be dreaming."
+
+Phillis shook her head smilingly; and as Dorothy came into the room
+that moment to lay the luncheon, she proposed a turn in the garden,
+and fetched Mr. Trinder's hat herself, and guided him to a side-walk,
+where they could not be seen from the drawing-room windows. Nan
+followed them, and tried to keep step with Mr. Trinder's shambling
+footsteps, as he walked between the girls with a hot perplexed face,
+and still muttering to himself at intervals.
+
+"It is all in confidence," repeated Phillis, in the same calm voice.
+
+"And you are actually serious? you are not joking?"
+
+"Do your clients generally joke when they are ruined?" returned
+Phillis, with natural exasperation. "Do you think Nan and I are in
+such excellent spirits that we could originate such a piece of
+drollery? Excuse me, Mr. Trinder, but I must say I do not think your
+remark quite well timed." And Phillis turned away with a little
+dignity.
+
+"No, no! now you are put out, and no wonder!" returned Mr. Trinder,
+soothingly; and he stood quite still on the gravel path, and fixed his
+keen little eyes on the two young creatures before him,--Nan, with her
+pale cheeks and sad eyes, and Phillis, alert, irritated, full of
+repressed energy. "Dear, dear! what a pity!" groaned the old man; "two
+such bonnie lasses and to think a little management and listening to
+my advice would have kept the house over your heads, if only your
+mother would have hearkened to me!"
+
+"It is too late for all that now, Mr. Trinder," replied Phillis,
+impatiently: "isn't it waste of time crying over spilt milk when we
+must be taking our goods to market? We must make the best of our
+little commodities," sighed the girl. "If we were only clever and
+accomplished, we might do better; but now----" and Phillis left her
+sentence unfinished, which was a way she had, and which people thought
+very telling.
+
+"But, my dear young lady, with all your advantages, and----" Here
+Phillis interrupted him rather brusquely.
+
+"What advantages? do you mean we had a governess? Well, we had three,
+one after the other; and they were none of them likely to turn out
+first-rate pupils. Oh, we are well enough, compared to other girls: if
+we had not to earn our own living, we should not be so much amiss.
+But, Nan, why don't you speak? why do you leave me all the hard work?
+Did you not tell us last night that you were not fit for a
+governess?"
+
+Nan felt rather ashamed of her silence after this. It was true that
+she was leaving all the onus of their plan on Phillis, and it was
+certainly time for her to come to her rescue. So she quietly but
+rather shyly endorsed her sister's speech, and assured Mr. Trinder
+that they had carefully considered the matter from every point of
+view, and, though it was a very poor prospect and involved a great
+deal of work and self-sacrifice, she, Nan, thought that Phillis was
+right, and that it was the best--indeed the only--thing they could do
+under the circumstances.
+
+"For myself, I prefer it infinitely to letting lodgings," finished
+Nan: and Phillis looked at her gratefully.
+
+But Mr. Trinder was obstinate and had old-fashioned views, and argued
+the whole thing in his dictatorial masculine way. They sat down to
+luncheon, and presently sent Dorothy away,--a piece of independence
+that bitterly offended that crabbed but faithful individual,--and
+wrangled busily through the whole of the meal.
+
+Mr. Trinder never could remember afterwards whether it was lamb or
+mutton he had eaten; he had a vague idea that Dulce had handed him the
+mint-sauce, and that he had declined it and helped himself to salad.
+The doubt disturbed him for the first twenty miles of his homeward
+journey. "Good gracious! for a man not to know whether he is eating
+lamb or mutton!" he soliloquized, as he vainly tried to enjoy his
+usual nap; "but then I never was so upset in my life. Those pretty
+creatures, and Challoners too,--bless my soul!" And here the lawyer's
+cogitations became confused and misty.
+
+Nan, who had more than once seen tears in the lawyer's shrewd little
+gray eyes, had been very gentle and tolerant over the old man's
+irritability; but Phillis had resented his caustic speeches somewhat
+hotly. Dulce, who was on her best behavior, was determined not to
+interfere or say a word to thwart her sisters: she even went so far as
+to explain to Mr. Trinder that they would not have to carry parcels,
+as Phillis meant to hire a boy. She had no idea that this magnanimous
+speech was in a figurative manner the last straw that broke the
+camel's back. Mr. Trinder pushed back his chair hastily, made some
+excuse that his train must be due, and beat a retreat an hour before
+the time, unable to pursue such a painful subject any longer.
+
+Nan rose, with a sigh of relief, as soon as the door closed upon their
+visitors, and took refuge in the shady drawing-room with her mother,
+whom she found in a very tearful, querulous state, requiring a great
+deal of soothing. They had decided that no visitors were to be
+admitted that afternoon.
+
+"You may say your mistress is indisposed with a bad headache, Dorothy,
+and that we are keeping the house quiet," Nan remarked, with a little
+dignity, with the remembrance of that late passage of arms.
+
+"Very well, Miss Nan," returned the old servant. However, she was a
+little cowed by Nan's manner: such an order had never before been
+given in the cottage. Mrs. Challoner's headaches were common events in
+every-day life, and had never been known before to interfere with
+their afternoon receptions. A little eau de Cologne and extra petting,
+a stronger cup of tea served up to her in her bedroom, had been the
+only remedies; the girls had always had their tennis as usual, and the
+sound of their voices and laughter had been as music in their mother's
+ears.
+
+"Very well, Miss Nan," was all Dorothy ventured to answer; but she
+withdrew with a face puckered up with anxiety. She took in the
+tea-tray unbidden at an earlier hour than usual; there were Dulce's
+favorite hot cakes, and some rounds of delicately-buttered toast, "for
+the young ladies have not eaten above a morsel at luncheon," said
+Dorothy in explanation to her mistress.
+
+"Never mind us," returned Nan, with a friendly nod at the old woman:
+"it has been so hot to-day," And then she coaxed her mother to eat,
+and made believe herself to enjoy the repast while she wondered how
+many more evenings they would spend in the pretty drawing-room on
+which they had expended so much labor.
+
+Nan had countermanded the late dinner, which they all felt would be a
+pretence and mockery; and as Mrs. Challoner's headache refused to
+yield to the usual remedies, she was obliged to retire to bed as soon
+as the sun set, and the three girls went out in the garden, and walked
+up and down the lawn with their arms interlaced, while Dorothy watched
+them from the pantry window, and wiped away a tear or two, as she
+washed up the tea-things.
+
+"How I should like a long walk?" exclaimed Dulce, impatiently. "It is
+so narrow and confined here; but it would never do: we should meet
+people."
+
+"No, it would never do," agreed her sisters, feeling a fresh pang that
+such avoidance was necessary. They had never hidden anything before,
+and the thought that this mystery lay between them and their friends
+was exquisitely painful.
+
+"I feel as though I never cared to see one of them again!" sighed poor
+Nan, for which speech she was rather sharply rebuked by Phillis.
+
+They settled a fair amount of business before they went to bed that
+night; and when Dorothy brought in the supper-tray, bearing a little
+covered dish in triumph, which she set down before Nan, Nan looked at
+her with grave, reproachful eyes, in there was a great deal of
+kindness.
+
+"You should not do this, Dorothy," she said, very gently: "we cannot
+afford such delicacies now."
+
+"It is your favorite dish, Miss Nan," returned Dorothy, quite ignoring
+this remark. "Susan has cooked it to a nicety; but it will be spoiled
+if it is not eaten hot." And she stood over them, while Nan dispensed
+the dainty. "You must eat it while it is hot," she kept saying, as she
+fidgeted about the room, taking up things and putting them down again.
+Phillis looked at Nan with a comical expression of dismay.
+
+"Dorothy, come here," she exclaimed, at last, pushing away her plate.
+"Don't you see that Susan is wasting all her talents on us, and that
+we can't eat to-day?"
+
+"Every one can eat if they try, Miss Phillis," replied Dorothy,
+oracularly. "But a thing like that must be hot, or it is spoiled."
+
+"Oh, never mind about it being hot," returned Phillis, beginning to
+laugh. She was so tired, and Dorothy was such a droll old thing; and
+how were even stewed pigeons to be appetizing under the
+circumstances?
+
+"Oh, you may laugh," began Dorothy, in an offended tone; but Phillis
+took hold of her and nearly shook her.
+
+"Oh, what a stupid old thing you are! Don't you know what a silly,
+aggravating old creature you can be when you like? If I laugh, it is
+because everything is so ludicrous and wretched. Nan and Dulce are not
+laughing."
+
+"No, indeed," put in Dulce; "we are far, far too unhappy!"
+
+"What is it, Miss Nan?" asked Dorothy, sidling up to her in a coaxing
+manner. "I am only an old servant, but it was me that put Miss Dulce
+in her father's arms,--'the pretty lamb,' as he called her, and she
+with a skin like a lily. If there is trouble, you would not keep it
+from her old nurse, surely?"
+
+"No, indeed, Dorothy: we want to tell you," returned Nan touched by
+this appeal; and then she quietly recapitulated the main points that
+concerned their difficulties,--their mother's loss, their future
+poverty, the necessity for leaving Glen Cottage and settling down at
+the Friary.
+
+"We shall all have to work," finished Nan, with prudent vagueness, not
+daring to intrust their plan to Dorothy: "the cottage is small, and,
+of course, we can only keep one servant."
+
+"I dare say I shall be able to manage if you will help me a little,"
+returned Dorothy, drying her old eyes with the corner of her apron.
+"Dear, dear! to think of such an affliction coming upon my mistress
+and the dear young ladies! It is like an earthquake or a flood, or
+something sudden and unexpected,--Lord deliver us! And to think of my
+speaking crossly to you Miss Nan, and you with all this worry on your
+mind!"
+
+"We will not think of that," returned Nan, soothingly. "Susan's
+quarter will be up shortly, and we must get her away as soon as
+possible. My great fear is that the work may be too much for you, poor
+Dorothy; and that--that--we may have to keep you waiting sometimes for
+your wages," she added, rather hesitatingly fearing to offend
+Dorothy's touchy temper, and yet determined to put the whole matter
+clearly before her.
+
+"I don't think we need talk about that," returned Dorothy, with
+dignity. "I have not saved up my wages for nineteen years without
+having a nest-egg laid up for rainy days. Wages,--when I mention the
+word, Miss Nan," went on Dorothy, waxing somewhat irate, "it will be
+time enough to enter upon that subject. I haven't deserved such a
+speech; no, that I haven't," went on Dorothy, with a sob. "Wages,
+indeed!"
+
+"Now, nursey, you shan't be cross with Nan," cried Dulce, throwing her
+arms round the old woman; for, in spite of her eighteen years, she was
+still Dorothy's special charge. "She's quite right; it may be an
+unpleasant subject, but we will not have you working for us for
+nothing."
+
+"Very well, Miss Dulce," returned Dorothy, in a choked voice preparing
+to withdraw; but Nan caught hold of the hard work-worn hand, and held
+her fast.
+
+"Oh, Dorothy, you would not add to our trouble now, when we are so
+terribly unhappy! I never meant to hurt your feelings by what I said.
+If you will only go to the Friary and help us to make the dear mother
+comfortable, I, for one, will be deeply grateful."
+
+"And you will not talk of wages?" asked Dorothy, mollified by Nan's
+sweet, pleading tones.
+
+"Not until we can afford to do so," returned Nan, hastily, feeling
+that this was a safe compromise, and that they should be eked out
+somehow. And then, the stewed pigeons being regarded as a failure,
+Dorothy consented to remove the supper tray, and the long day was
+declared at an end.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+THE FRIARY.
+
+
+Oldfield was rather mystified by the Challoners' movements. There were
+absolutely three afternoons during which Nan and her sisters were
+invisible. There was a tennis-party at the Paines' on one of these
+days, but at the last minute they had excused themselves. Nan's
+prettily-worded note was declared very vague and unsatisfactory, and
+on the following afternoon there was a regular invasion of the
+cottage,--Carrie Paine, and two of the Twentyman girls, and Adelaide
+Sartoris and her young brother Albert.
+
+They found Dulce alone, looking very sad and forlorn.
+
+Nan and Phillis had gone down to Hadleigh that morning, she explained
+in rather a confused way: they were not expected back until the
+following evening.
+
+On being pressed by Miss Sartoris as to the reason of this sudden
+trip, she added, rather awkwardly, that it was on business; her mother
+was not well,--oh, very far from well; and they had to look at a house
+that belonged to them, as the tenant had lately died.
+
+This was all very plausible; but Dulce's manner was so constrained,
+and she spoke with such hesitation, that Miss Sartoris was convinced
+that something lay behind. They went out in the garden, however, and
+chose sides for their game of tennis; and, though Dulce had never
+played so badly in her life, the fresh air and exercise did her good,
+and at the end of the afternoon she looked a little less drooping.
+
+It was felt to be a failure, however, by the whole party; and when tea
+was over, there was no mention of a second game. "No, we will not stay
+any longer," observed Isabella Twentyman, kissing the girl with much
+affection. "Of course we understand that you will be wanting to sit
+with your mother."
+
+"Yes, and if you do not come in to-morrow we shall quite know how it
+is," added Miss Sartoris, good-naturedly, for which Dulce thanked her
+and looked relieved.
+
+She stood at the hall door watching them as they walked down the
+village street, swinging their racquets and talking merrily.
+
+"What happy girls!" she thought, with a sigh. Miss Sartoris was an
+heiress, and the Twentymans were rich, and every one knew that Carrie
+and Sophy Paine would have money. "None of them will have to work,"
+said poor Dulce sorrowfully to herself: "they can go on playing tennis
+and driving and riding and dancing as long as they like." And then she
+went up to her mother's room with lagging footsteps and a cloudy
+brow.
+
+"You may depend upon it there is something amiss with those
+Challoners," said Miss Sartoris, as soon as they were out of sight of
+the cottage; "no one has seen anything of them for the last three or
+four days, and I never saw Dulce so unlike herself."
+
+"Oh, I hope not," returned Carrie, gravely, who had heard enough from
+her father to guess that there was pecuniary embarrassment at the
+bottom. "Poor little thing, she did seem rather subdued. How many
+people do you expect to muster to-morrow, Adelaide?" and then Miss
+Sartoris understood that the subject was to be changed.
+
+While Dulce was trying to entertain her friends, Nan and Phillis were
+reconnoitring the Friary.
+
+They had taken an early train to London, and had contrived to reach
+Hadleigh a little before three. They went first to Beach House,--a
+small unpretending house on the Parade, kept by a certain Mrs. Mozley,
+with whom they had once lodged after Dulce had the measles.
+
+The good woman received them with the utmost cordiality. Her place was
+pretty nearly filled, she told them proudly; the drawing-room had been
+taken for three months, and an elderly couple were in the
+dining-room.
+
+"But there is a bedroom I could let you have for one night," finished
+Mrs. Mozley, "and there is the little side parlor where you could have
+your tea and breakfast." And when Nan had thanked her, and suggested
+the addition of chops to their evening meal, they left their modest
+luggage and set out for the Friary.
+
+Phillis would have gone direct to their destination, but Nan pleaded
+for one turn on the Parade. She wanted a glimpse of the sea, and it
+was such a beautiful afternoon.
+
+The tide was out, and the long black breakwaters were uncovered; the
+sun was shining on the wet shingles and narrow strip of yellow sand.
+The sea looked blue and unruffled, with little sparkles and gleams of
+light, and white sails glimmered on the horizon. Some boatmen were
+dragging a boat down the beach; it grated noisily over the pebbles. A
+merry party were about to embark,--a tall man in a straw hat, and two
+boys in knickerbockers. Their sisters were watching them. "Oh, Reggie,
+do be careful!" Nan heard one of the girls say, as he waded knee-deep
+into the water.
+
+"Come, Nan, we ought not to dawdle like this!" exclaimed Phillis,
+impatiently; and they went on quickly, past the long row of
+old-fashioned white houses with the green before them and that sweet
+Sussex border of soft feathery tamarisk, and then past the
+cricket-field, and down to the whitewashed cottage of the Preventive
+Station; and then they turned back and walked towards the Steyne, and
+after that Nan declared herself satisfied.
+
+There were plenty of people on the Parade, and most of them looked
+after the two girls as they passed. Nan's sweet bloom and graceful
+carriage always attracted notice; and Phillis, although she generally
+suffered from comparison with her sister, was still very
+uncommon-looking.
+
+"I should like to know who those young ladies are," observed a
+military-looking man with a white moustache, who was standing at the
+Library door waiting for his daughter to make some purchases. "Look at
+them, Elizabeth: one of them is such a pretty girl, and they walk so
+well."
+
+"Dear father, I suppose they are only some new-comers: we shall see
+their names down in the visitors' list by and by;" and Miss Middleton
+smiled as she took her father's arm, for she was slightly lame. She
+knew strangers always interested him, and that he would make it his
+business for the next few days to find out everything about them.
+
+"Did you see that nice-looking woman?" asked Phillis, when they had
+passed. "She was quite young, only her hair was gray: fancy, a
+gray-haired girl!"
+
+"Oh, she must be older than she looks," returned Nan, indifferently.
+
+She was not looking at people: she was far too busily engaged
+identifying each well-remembered spot.
+
+There was the shabby little cottage, where she and her mother had once
+stayed after an illness of Mrs. Challoner's. What odd little rooms
+they had occupied, looking over a strip of garden-ground full of
+marigolds! "Marigolds-all-in-a-row Cottage," she had named it in her
+home letters. It was nearly opposite the White House where Mrs. Cheyne
+lived. Nan remembered her,--a handsome, sad-looking woman, who always
+wore black, and drove out in such handsome carriages.
+
+"Always alone; how sad!" Nan thought; and she wondered, as they walked
+past the low stone walls with grassy mounds slopping from them, and a
+belt of shrubbery shutting out views of the house, whether Mrs. Cheyne
+lived there still.
+
+They had reached a quiet country corner now; there was a clump of
+trees, guarded by posts and chains; a white house stood far back.
+There were two or three other houses, and a cottage dotted down here
+and there. The road looked shady and inviting. Nan began to look about
+her more cheerfully.
+
+"I am glad it is so quiet, and so far away from the town, and that our
+neighbors will not be able to overlook us."
+
+"I was just thinking of that as a disadvantage," returned Phillis,
+with placid opposition. "It is a pity, under the circumstances, that
+we are not nearer the town." And after that Nan held her peace.
+
+They were passing an old-fashioned house with a green door in the
+wall, when it suddenly opened, and a tall, grave looking young man, in
+clerical attire, came out quickly upon them, and then drew back to let
+them pass.
+
+"I suppose that is the new vicar?" whispered Phillis, when they had
+gone a few steps. "You know poor old Dr. Musgrave is dead, and most
+likely that is his successor."
+
+"I forgot that was the vicarage," returned Nan. But happily she did
+not turn round to look at it again; if she had done so, she would have
+seen the young clergyman still standing by the green door watching
+them. "It is a shabby, dull old house in front; but I remember that
+when mother and I returned Mrs. Musgrave's call we were shown into
+such a dear old-fashioned drawing-room, with windows looking out on
+such a pleasant garden. I quite fell in love with it."
+
+"Well, we shall be near neighbors," observed Phillis, somewhat
+shortly, as she paused before another green door, set in a long blank
+wall; "for here we are at the Friary, and I had better just run over
+the way and get the key from Mrs. Crump."
+
+Nan nodded, and then stood like an image of patience before the
+shabby green door. Would it open and let them into a new untried life?
+What sort of fading hopes, of dim regrets, would be left outside when
+they crossed the threshold? The thought of the empty rooms, not yet
+swept and garnished, made her shiver: the upper windows looked blankly
+at her, like blind, unrecognizing eyes. She was quite glad when
+Phillis joined her again, swinging the key on her little finger, and
+humming a tune in forced cheerfulness.
+
+"What a dull, shut-in place! I think the name of Friary suits it
+exactly," observed Nan, disconsolately, as they went up the little
+flagged path, bordered with lilac-bushes. "It feels like a miniature
+convent or prison: we might have a grating in the door, and answer all
+outsiders through it."
+
+"Nonsense!" returned Phillis, who was determined to take a bright view
+of things. "Don't go into the house just yet, I want to see the
+garden." And she led the way down a gloomy side-path, with unclipped
+box and yews, that made it dark and decidedly damp. This brought them
+to a little lawn, with tall, rank grass that might have been mown for
+hay, and some side-beds full of old fashioned flowers, such as lupins
+and monkshood, pinks and small pansies; a dreary little greenhouse,
+with a few empty flower-pots and a turned-up box was in one corner,
+and an attempt at a rockery, with a periwinkle climbing over it, and
+an undesirable number of oyster-shells.
+
+An old medlar tree, very warped and gnarled, was at the bottom of the
+lawn, and beyond this a small kitchen-garden, with abundance of
+gooseberry and currant-bushes, and vast resources in the shape of
+mint, marjoram, and lavender.
+
+"Oh, dear! oh, dear! what a wretched little place after our dear old
+Glen Cottage garden!" And in spite of her good resolutions, Nan's eyes
+grew misty.
+
+"Comparisons are odious," retorted Phillis, briskly. "We have just to
+make the best of things,--and I don't deny they are horrid,--and put
+all the rest away, between lavender, on the shelves of our memory."
+And she smiled grimly as she picked one of the gray spiky flowers.
+
+And then, as they walked round the weedy paths, she pointed out how
+different it would look when the lawn was mown, and all the weeds and
+oyster-shells removed, and the box and yews clipped, and a little
+paint put on the greenhouse.
+
+"And look at that splendid passion-flower, growing like a weed over
+the back of the cottage," she remarked, with a wave of her hand: "it
+only wants training and nailing up. Poor Miss Monks has neglected the
+garden shamefully; but then she was always ailing."
+
+They went into the cottage after this. The entry was rather small and
+dark. The kitchen came first: it was a tolerable-sized apartment, with
+two windows looking out on the lilacs and the green door and the blank
+wall.
+
+"I am afraid Dorothy will find it a little dull," Nan observed,
+rather ruefully. And again she thought the name of Friary was well
+given to this gruesome cottage; but she cheered up when Phillis opened
+cupboards and showed her a light little scullery, and thought that
+perhaps they could make it comfortable for Dorothy.
+
+The other two rooms looked upon the garden: one had three windows, and
+was really a very pleasant parlor.
+
+"This must be our work-room," began Phillis, solemnly, as she stood in
+the centre of the empty room, looking round her with bright knowing
+glances. "Oh, what an ugly paper, Nan! but we can easily put up a
+prettier one. The smaller room must be where we live and take our
+meals: it is not quite so cheerful as this. It is so nice having this
+side-window; it will give us more light, and we shall be able to see
+who comes in at the door."
+
+"Yes, that is an advantage," assented Nan. She was agreeably surprised
+to find such a good-sized room in the cottage; it was decidedly low,
+and the windows were not plate-glass, but she thought that on summer
+mornings they might sit there very comfortably looking out at the lawn
+and the medlar-tree.
+
+"We shall be glad of these cupboards," she suggested, after a pause,
+while Phillis, took out sundry pieces of tape from her pocket and
+commenced making measurements in a business-like manner. "Our work
+will make such a litter, and I should like things to be as tidy as
+possible. I am thinking," she continued, "we might have mother's great
+carved wardrobe in the recess behind the door. It is really a
+magnificent piece of furniture, and in a work-room it would not be so
+out of place; we could hang up the finished and unfinished dresses in
+it out of the dust. And we could have the little drawing-room
+chiffonnier between the windows for our pieces, and odds and ends in
+the cupboards. It is a pity our table is round; but perhaps it will
+look all the more comfortable. The sewing-machine must be in the
+side-window," added Nan, who was quite in her element now, for she
+loved all housewifely arrangements; "and mother's easy-chair and
+little table must stand by the fireplace. My davenport will be useful
+for papers and accounts."
+
+"It is really a very convenient room," returned Phillis, in a
+satisfied voice, when they had exhausted its capabilities; and, though
+the second parlor was small and dull in comparison, even Nan dropped
+no disparaging word.
+
+Both of them agreed it would do very well. There was a place for the
+large roomy couch that their mother so much affected, and their
+favorite chairs and knick-knacks would soon make it look cosey: and
+after this they went upstairs hand in hand.
+
+There were only four bedrooms, and two of these were not large; the
+most cheerful one was, of course, allotted to their mother, and the
+next in size must be for Phillis and Dulce. Nan was to have a small
+one next to her mother.
+
+The evening was drawing on by the time they had finished their
+measurements and left the cottage. Nan, who was tired and wanted her
+tea, was for hurrying on to Beach House; but Phillis insisted on
+calling at the Library. She wanted to put some questions to Miss
+Milner. To-morrow they would have the paper-hanger, and look out for a
+gardener, and there was Mrs. Crump to interview about cleaning down
+the cottage.
+
+"Oh, very well," returned Nan, wearily, and she followed Phillis into
+the shop, where good-natured bustling Miss Milner came to them at
+once.
+
+Phillis put the question to her in a low voice, for there were other
+customers exchanging books over the counter. The same young clergyman
+they had before noticed had just bought a local paper, and was waiting
+evidently for a young lady who was turning over some magazines quite
+close to them.
+
+"Do we know of a good dressmaker in the place?" repeated Miss Milner,
+in her loud cheerful voice, very much to Nan's discomfort, for the
+clergyman looked up from his paper at once. "Miss Monks was a
+tolerable fit, but, poor thing! she died a few weeks ago; and Mrs.
+Slasher, who lives over Viner's the haberdasher's, cannot hold a
+candle to her. Miss Masham there,"--pointing to a smart ringleted
+young person, evidently her assistant,--"had her gown ruined by her:
+hadn't you, Miss Masham?"
+
+Miss Masham simpered, but her reply was inaudible; but the young lady
+who was standing near them suddenly turned round:
+
+"There is Mrs. Langley, who lives just by. I shall be very happy to
+give these ladies her address, for she is a widow with little
+children, and I am anxious to procure her work--" and then she looked
+at Nan, and hesitated; "that is, if you are not very particular," she
+added, with sudden embarrassment, for even in her morning dress there
+was a certain style about Nan that distinguished her from other
+people.
+
+"Thank you, Miss Drummond," returned Miss Milner, gratefully. "Shall I
+write down the address for you, ma'am?"
+
+"Yes,--no,--thank you very much, but perhaps it does not matter,"
+returned Nan, hurriedly, feeling awkward for the first time in her
+life. But Phillis, who realized all the humor of the situation,
+interposed:
+
+"The address will do us no harm, and we may as well have it, although
+we should not trouble Mrs. Langley. I will call in again, Miss Milner,
+to-morrow morning, and then I will explain what it is we really want.
+We are in a hurry now," continued Phillis, loftily, turning away with
+a dignified inclination of her head toward the officious stranger.
+
+Phillis was not prepossessed in her favor. She was a dark, wiry little
+person, not exactly plain, but with an odd, comical face; and she was
+dressed so dowdily and with such utter disregard of taste that Phillis
+instinctively felt Mrs. Langley was not to be dreaded.
+
+"What a queer little body! Do you think she belongs to him?" she asked
+Nan, as they walked rapidly toward Beach House.
+
+"What in the world made you strike in after that fashion?" demanded
+the young man, as he and his companion followed more slowly in the
+strangers' footsteps. "That is just your way, Mattie, interfering and
+meddling in other folks' affairs. Why cannot you mind your own
+business sometimes," he continued, irritably, "instead of putting your
+foot into other people's?"
+
+"You are as cross as two sticks this afternoon, Archie," returned his
+sister, composedly. She had a sharp little pecking voice that seemed
+to match her, somehow; for she was not unlike a bright-eyed bird, and
+had quick pouncing movements. "Wait a moment: my braid has got torn,
+and is dragging."
+
+"I wish you would think a little more of my position, and take greater
+pains with your appearance," returned her brother, in an annoyed
+voice. "What would Grace say to see what a fright you make of
+yourself? It is a sin and a shame for a woman to be untidy or careless
+in her dress; it is unfeminine! it is unlady-like!" hurling each
+separate epithet at her.
+
+Perhaps Miss Drummond was used to these compliments, for she merely
+pinned her braid without seeming the least put out.
+
+"I think I am a little shabby," she remarked, tranquilly, as they at
+last walked on. "Perhaps Mrs. Langley had better make me a dress too,"
+with a laugh, for, in spite of her sharp voice, she was an
+even-tempered little body; but this last remark only added fuel to his
+wrath.
+
+"You really have less sense than a child. The idea of recommending a
+person like Mrs. Langley to those young ladies,--a woman who works for
+Miss Masham!"
+
+"They were very plainly dressed, Archie," returned poor Mattie, who
+felt this last snub acutely; for, if there was one thing upon which
+she prided herself, it was her good sense. "They had dark print
+dresses,--not as good as the one I have on,--and nothing could be
+quieter."
+
+"Oh, you absurd little goose!" exclaimed her brother, and he burst
+into a laugh, for the drollery of the comparison restored him to
+instant good humor. "If you cannot see the difference between that
+frumpish gown of yours, with its little bobtails and fringes, and
+those pretty dresses before us, I must say you are as blind as a bat,
+Mattie."
+
+"Oh, never mind my gown," returned Mattie, with a sigh.
+
+She had had these home-thrusts to meet and parry nearly every day,
+ever since she had come to keep house for this fastidious brother. She
+was a very active, bustling little person, who had done a great deal
+of tough work in her day, but she never could be made to see that
+unless a woman add the graces of life to the cardinal virtues she is,
+comparatively speaking, a failure in the eyes of the other sex.
+
+So, though Mattie was a frugal housekeeper, and worked from morning to
+night in his service,--the veriest little drudge that was ever
+seen,--she was a perpetual eyesore to her brother, who loved feminine
+grace and repose,--whose tastes were fastidious and somewhat
+arbitrary. And so it was poor Mattie had more censure than praise, and
+wrote home piteous letters complaining that nothing she did seemed to
+satisfy Archie, and that her mother had made a great mistake in
+sending her, and not Grace, to preside over his bachelor
+establishment.
+
+"Oh, Phillis, how shall we have courage to publish our plan?"
+exclaimed Nan, when they were at last discussing the much-needed tea
+and chops in the little parlor at Beach House.
+
+The window was wide open. The returning tide was coming in with a
+pleasant ripple and wash over the shingle. The Parade was nearly
+empty; but some children's voices sounded from the green space before
+the houses. The brown sail of a fishing craft dipped into the horizon.
+It was so cool, so quiet, so restful; but Nan's eyes were weary, and
+she put the question wistfully.
+
+Phillis looked into the teapot to gain a moment's reprieve; the
+corners of her mouth had an odd pucker in them.
+
+"I never said it was not hard," she burst out at last. "I felt like a
+fool myself while I was speaking to Miss Milner; but then that
+clergyman was peeping at us between the folds of his paper. He seemed
+a nice-looking, gentlemanly sort of man. Do you think that queer
+little lady in the plaid dress could be his wife? Oh, no; I remember
+Miss Milner addressed her as Miss Drummond. Then she must be his
+sister: how odd!"
+
+"Why should it be odd?" remarked Nan, absently, who had not
+particularly noticed them.
+
+"Oh, she was such a dowdy little thing, not a bit nice-looking, and he
+was quite handsome, and looked rather distinguished. You know I always
+take stock of people, and make up my mind about them at once. And then
+we are to be such close neighbors."
+
+"I don't suppose we shall see much of them," was Nan's somewhat
+depressed reply; and then, as they had finished their tea they placed
+themselves at the open window, and began to talk about the business of
+next day; and, in discussing cupboards and new papers, Nan forgot her
+fatigue, and grew so interested that it was quite late before they
+thought of retiring to rest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+"TELL US ALL ABOUT IT, NAN."
+
+
+Nan overslept herself, and was rather late the next morning; but as
+she entered the parlor, with an exclamation of penitence for her
+tardiness, she found her little speech was addressed to the empty
+walls. A moment after, a shadow crossed the window, and Phillis came
+in.
+
+She went up to Nan and kissed her, and there was a gleam of fun in her
+eyes.
+
+"Oh, you lazy girl!" she said; "leaving me all the hard work to do. Do
+you know, I have been around to the Library, and have had it all out
+with Miss Milner; and in the Steyne I met the clergyman again,
+and--would you believe it; he looked quite disappointed because you
+were not there!"
+
+"Nonsense!" returned Nan, sharply. She never liked this sort of joking
+speeches: they seemed treasonable to Dick.
+
+"Oh, but he did," persisted Phillis, who was a little excited and
+reckless after her morning's work. "He threw me a disparaging glance,
+which said, as plainly as possible, 'Why are you not the other one?'
+That comes from having a sister handsomer than one's self."
+
+"Oh, Phillis! when people always think you so nice, and when you are
+so clever!"
+
+Phillis got up and executed a little courtesy in the prettiest way,
+and then she sank down upon her chair in pretended exhaustion.
+
+"What I have been through! But I have come out of it alive. Confess,
+now, there's a dear, that you could not have done it!"
+
+"No; indeed," with an alarmed air. "Do you really mean to say that you
+actually told Miss Milner what we meant to do?"
+
+"I told her everything. There, sit down and begin your breakfast, Nan,
+or we shall never be ready. I found her alone in the shop. Thank
+goodness, that Miss Masham was not there. I have taken a dislike to
+that simpering young person, and would rather make a dress for Mrs.
+Squails any day than for her. I told her the truth, without a bit of
+disguise. Would you believe it, the good creature actually cried about
+it! she quite upset me too. 'Such young ladies! dear, dear: one does
+not often see such,' she kept saying over and over again. And then she
+put out her hand and stroked my dress, and said, 'Such a beautiful
+fit, too; and to think you have made it yourself! such a clever young
+lady! Oh, dear! whatever will Mr. Drummond and Miss Mattie say?'
+Stupid old thing! as though we cared what he said!"
+
+"Oh, Phillis! and she cried over it?"
+
+"She did indeed. I am not exaggerating. Two big round tears rolled
+down her cheeks. I could have kissed her for them. And then she made
+me sit down in the little room behind the shop, where she was having
+her breakfast, and poured me out a cup of tea and----" But here Nan
+interrupted her, and there was a trace of anxiety in her manner.
+
+"Poured you out a cup of tea! Miss Milner! And you drank it!"
+
+"Of course I drank it; it was very good, and I was thirsty."
+
+But here Nan pounced upon her unexpectedly, and dragged her to the
+window.
+
+"Your fun is only make-believe: there is no true ring about it. Let me
+see your eyes. Oh, Phil, Phil! I thought so! You have been crying,
+too!"
+
+Phillis looked a little taken aback. Nan was too sharp for her. She
+tried to shake herself free a little pettishly.
+
+"Well, if I choose to make a fool of myself for once in my life, you
+need not be silly about it; the old thing was so upsetting, and--and
+it was so hard to get it out." Phillis would not have told for worlds
+how utterly she had broken down over that task of hers; how the
+stranger's sympathy had touched so painful a chord that, before she
+knew what she was doing, she had laid her head down on the counter and
+was crying like a baby,--all the more that she had so bravely pent up
+her feelings all these days that she might not dishearten her
+sisters.
+
+But, as Nan petted and praised her, she did tell how good Miss Milner
+had been to her.
+
+"Fancy a fat old thing like that having such fine feelings," she said,
+with an attempt to recover her sprightliness. "She was as good as a
+mother to me,--made me sit in the easy-chair, and brought me some
+elder-flower water to bathe my eyes, and tried to cheer me up by
+saying that we should have plenty of work. She has promised not to
+tell any one just yet about us; but when we are really in the Friary
+she will speak to people and recommend us: and--" here Phillis gave a
+little laugh--"we are to make up a new black silk for her that her
+brother has just sent her. Oh, dear, what will mother say to us, Nan?"
+And Phillis looked at her in an alarmed, beseeching way, as though in
+sore need of comfort.
+
+Nan looked grave; but there was no hesitation in her answer:
+
+"I am afraid it is too late to think of that now, Phil: it has to be
+done, and we must just go through with it."
+
+"You are right, Nanny darling, we must just go through with it,"
+agreed Phillis; and then they went on with their unfinished breakfast,
+and after that the business of the day began.
+
+It was late in the evening when they reached home. Dulce who was at
+the gate looking out for them, nearly smothered them with kisses.
+
+"Oh, you dear things! how glad I am to get you back," she said,
+holding them both. "Have you really only been away since yesterday
+morning? It seems a week at least."
+
+"You ridiculous child! as though we believe that! But how is mother?"
+
+"Oh, pretty well: but she will be better now you are back. Do you
+know," eying them both very gravely, "I think it was a wise thing of
+you to go away like that? it has shown me that mother and I could not
+do without you at all: we should have pined away in those lodgings; it
+has quite reconciled me to the plan," finished Dulce, in a loud
+whisper that reached her mother's ears.
+
+"What plan? What are you talking about, Dulce? and why do you keep
+your sisters standing in the hall?" asked Mrs. Challoner, a little
+irritably. But her brief nervousness vanished at the sight of their
+faces: she wanted nothing more, she told herself, but to see them
+round her, and hear their voices.
+
+She grew quite cheerful when Phillis told her about the new papers,
+and how Mrs. Crump was to clean down the cottage, and how Crump had
+promised to mow the grass and paint the greenhouse, and Jack and
+Bobbie were to weed the garden-paths.
+
+"It is a perfect wilderness now, mother: you never saw such a place."
+
+"Never mind, so that it will hold us, and that we shall all be
+together," she returned, with a smile. "But Dulce talked of some plan:
+you must let me hear it, my dears; you must not keep me in the dark
+about anything. I know we shall all have to work," continued the poor
+lady; "but if we be all together, if you will promise not to leave me,
+I think I could bear anything."
+
+"Are we to tell her!" motioned Nan with her lips to Phillis; and as
+Phillis nodded, "Yes," Nan gently and quietly began unfolding their
+plan.
+
+But, with all her care and all Phillis's promptings, the revelation
+was a great shock to Mrs. Challoner; in her weakened state she seemed
+hardly able to bear it.
+
+Dulce repented bitterly her incautious whisper when she saw her
+sisters' tired faces, and their fruitless attempts to soften the
+effects of such a blow. For a little while, Mrs. Challoner seemed on
+the brink of despair; she would not listen; she abandoned herself to
+lamentations; she became so hysterical at last that Dorothy was
+summoned from the kitchen and taken into confidence.
+
+"Mother, you are breaking our hearts," Nan said, at last. She was
+kneeling at her feet, chafing her hands, and Phillis was fanning her;
+but she pushed them both away from her with weak violence.
+
+"It is I whose heart is breaking! Why must I live to see such things?
+Dorothy, do you know my daughters are going to be dressmakers?--my
+daughters, who are Challoners,--who have been delicately
+nurtured,--who might hold up their heads with any one?"
+
+"Dorothy, hold your tongue!" exclaimed Phillis, peremptorily. "You are
+not to speak; this is for us to decide, and no one else. Mammy, you
+are making Nan look quite pale: she is dreadfully tired, and so am I.
+Why need we decide anything to-night? Every one is upset and excited,
+and when that is the case one can never arrive at any proper
+conclusion. Let us talk about it to-morrow, when we are rested." And,
+though Mrs. Challoner would not allow herself to be comforted, Nan's
+fatigue and paleness were so visible to her maternal eyes that they
+were more eloquent than Phillis's words.
+
+"I must not think only of myself. Yes, yes, I will do as you wish.
+There will be time enough for this sort of talk to-morrow. Dorothy,
+will you help me? The young ladies are tired; they have had a long
+journey. No, my dear, no," as Dulce pressed forward; "I would rather
+have Dorothy." And, as the old servant gave them a warning glance,
+they were obliged to let her have her way.
+
+"Mammy has never been like this before," pouted Dulce, when they were
+left alone. "She drives us away from her as though we had done
+something purposely to vex her."
+
+"It is because she cannot bear the sight of us to-night," returned
+Phillis, solemnly. "It is worse for her than for us; a mother feels
+things for her children more than for herself; it is nature, that is
+what it is," she finished philosophically; "but she will be better
+to-morrow." And after this the miserable little conclave broke up.
+
+Mrs. Challoner passed a sleepless night, and her pillow was sown with
+thorns. To think of the Challoners falling so low as this! To think of
+her pretty Nan, her clever, bright Phillis, her pet Dulce coming to
+this; "oh, the pity of it!" she cried in the dark hours, when vitality
+runs lowest, and thoughts seem to flow involuntarily towards a dark
+centre.
+
+But with the morning came sunshine, and her girl's faces,--a little
+graver than usual, perhaps, but still full of youth and the brightness
+of energy; and the sluggish nightmare of yesterday's grief began to
+fade a little.
+
+"Now, mammy, you are not going to be naughty to-day!" was Dulce's
+morning salutation as she seated herself on the bed.
+
+Mrs. Challoner smiled faintly:
+
+"Was I very naughty last night, Dulce?"
+
+"Oh, as bad as possible. You pushed poor Nan and Phillis away, and
+would not let any one come near you but that cross old Dorothy, and
+you never bade us good-night; but if you promise to be good, I will
+forgive you and make it up," finished Dulce, with those light
+butterfly kisses to which she was addicted.
+
+"Now, Chatterbox, it is my turn," interrupted Phillis; and then she
+began a carefully concocted little speech, very carefully drawn out to
+suit her mother's sensitive peculiarities.
+
+She went over the old ground patiently point by point. Mrs. Challoner
+shuddered at the idea of letting lodgings.
+
+"I knew you would agree with us," returned Phillis, with a convincing
+nod; and then she went on to the next clause.
+
+Mrs. Challoner argued a great deal about the governess scheme. She was
+quite angry with Phillis, and seemed to suffer a great deal of
+self-reproach, when the girl spoke of their defective education and
+lack of accomplishments. Nan had to come to her sister's rescue; but
+the mother was slow to yield the point:
+
+"I don't know what you mean. My girls are not different from other
+girls. What would your poor father say if he were alive? It is cruel
+to say this to me, when I stinted myself to give you every possible
+advantage, and I paid Miss Martin eighty pounds a year," she
+concluded, tearfully, feeling as though she were the victim of a
+fraud.
+
+She was far more easily convinced that going out as companions would
+be impracticable under the circumstances. "Oh, no, that will never
+do!" she cried, when the two little rooms with Dulce were proposed;
+and after this Phillis found her task less difficult. She talked her
+mother over at last to reluctant acquiescence. "I never knew how I
+came to consent," she said, afterwards, "but they were too much for
+me."
+
+"We cannot starve. I suppose I must give in to you," she said, at
+last; "but I shall never hold up my head again." And she really
+believed what she said.
+
+"Mother, you must trust us," replied Phillis, touched by this victory
+she had won. "Do you know what I said to Dulce? Work cannot degrade
+us. Though we are dressmakers, we are still Challoners. Nothing can
+make us lose our dignity and self-respect as gentlewomen."
+
+"Other people will not recognize it," returned her mother, with a
+sigh. "You will lose caste. No one will visit you. Among your equals
+you will be treated as inferiors. It is this that bows me to the earth
+with shame."
+
+"Mother, how can you talk so?" cried Nan, in a clear, indignant voice.
+"What does it matter if people do not visit us? We must have a world
+of our own, and be sufficient for ourselves, if we can only keep
+together. Is not that what you have said to us over and over again?
+Well, we shall be together, we shall have each other. What does the
+outside world matter to us after all?"
+
+"Oh, you are young; you do not know what complications may arise,"
+replied Mrs. Challoner, with the gloomy forethought of middle age.
+She thought she knew the world better than they, but in reality she
+was almost as guileless and ignorant as her daughters. "Until you
+begin, you do not know the difficulties that will beset you," she went
+on.
+
+But notwithstanding this foreboding speech, she was some what
+comforted by Nan's words: "they would be together!" Well, if
+Providence chose to inflict this humiliation and afflictive
+dispensation on her, it could be borne as long as she had her children
+around her.
+
+Nan made one more speech,--a somewhat stern one for her.
+
+"Our trouble will be a furnace to try our friends. We shall know the
+true from the false. Only those who are really worth the name will be
+faithful to us."
+
+Nan was thinking of Dick; but her mother misunderstood her, and grew
+alarmed.
+
+"You will not tell the Paines and the other people about here what you
+intend to do, surely? I could not bear that! no, indeed, I could not
+bear that!"
+
+"Do not be afraid, dear mother," returned Nan, sadly, "we are far too
+great cowards to do such a thing, and, after all, there is no need to
+put ourselves to needless pain. If the Maynes were here we might not
+be able to keep it from them, perhaps, and so I am thankful they are
+away."
+
+Nan said this quite calmly, though her mother fixed her eyes upon her
+in a most tenderly mournful fashion. She had quite forgotten their
+Longmead neighbors, but now, as Nan recalled them to her mind, she
+remembered Mr. Mayne, and her look had become compassionate.
+
+"It will be all over with those poor children," she thought to
+herself: "the father will never allow it,--never; and I cannot wonder
+at him." And then her heart softened to the memory of Dick, whom she
+had never thought good enough for Nan, for she remembered now with a
+sore pang that her pride was laid low in the dust, and that she could
+not hope now that her daughters would make splendid matches: even Dick
+would be above them, though his father had been in trade, and though
+he had no grandfather worth mentioning.
+
+A few days after their return from Hadleigh, there was an other long
+business interview with Mr. Trinder, in which every thing was settled.
+A tenant had already been found for the cottage. A young couple, on
+the eve of their marriage, who had long been looking for a suitable
+house in the neighborhood had closed at once with Mr. Trinder's offer,
+and had taken the lease off their hands. The gentleman was a cousin of
+the Paines and, partly for the convenience of the in-coming tenants,
+and partly because the Challoners wished to move as soon as possible,
+there was only a delay of a few weeks before the actual flitting.
+
+It would be impossible to describe the dismay of the neighborhood when
+the news was circulated.
+
+Immediately after their return from Hadleigh, Nan and Phillis took
+counsel together, and, summoning up their courage, went from one to
+another of their friends and quietly announced their approaching
+departure.
+
+"Mother has had losses, and we are now dreadfully poor, and we are
+going to leave Glen Cottage and go down to a small house we have at
+Hadleigh," said Nan, who by virtue of an additional year of age was
+spokeswoman on this occasion. She had fully rehearsed this little
+speech, which she intended to say at every house in due rotation. "We
+will not disguise the truth; we will let people know that we are poor,
+and then they will not expect impossibilities," she said, as they
+walked down the shady roads towards the Paines' house,--for the Paines
+were their most intimate friends and had a claim to the first
+confidence.
+
+"I think that will be sufficient; no one has any right to know more,"
+she continued, decidedly, fully determined that no amount of coaxing
+and cross-examination should wring from her one unnecessary word.
+
+But she little knew how difficult it would be to keep their own
+counsel. The Paines were not alone: they very seldom were. Adelaide
+Sartoris was there, and the younger Miss Twentyman, and a young widow,
+a Mrs. Forbes, who was a distant connection of Mrs. Paine.
+
+Nan was convinced that they had all been talking about them, for there
+was rather an embarrassed pause as she and Phillis entered the room.
+Carrie looked a little confused as she greeted them.
+
+Nan sat down by Mrs. Paine, who was rather deaf, and in due time made
+her little speech. She was rather pale with the effort, and her voice
+faltered a little, but every word was heard at the other end of the
+room.
+
+"Leave Glen Cottage, my dear? I can't have heard you rightly. I am
+very deaf, to-day,--very. I think I must have caught cold." And Mrs.
+Paine turned a mild face of perplexity on Nan; but, before she could
+reiterate her words, Carrie was on the footstool at her feet, and Miss
+Sartoris, with a grave look of concern on her handsome features, was
+standing beside her:
+
+"Oh, Nan! tell us all about it! Of course we saw something was the
+matter. Dulce was so strange that afternoon; and you have all been
+keeping yourselves invisible for ever so long."
+
+"There is very little to tell," returned Nan, trying to speak
+cheerfully. "Mother has had bad news. Mr. Gardiner is bankrupt, and
+all our invested money is gone. Of course we could not go on living at
+Glen Cottage. There is some talk, Carrie, of your cousin, Mr.
+Ibbetson, coming to look at it: it will be nice for us if he could
+take the lease off our hands, and then we should go down to the
+Friary."
+
+"How I shall hate to see Ralph there!--not but what it will suit him
+and Louisa well enough, I dare say. But never mind him: I want to
+know all about yourselves," continued Carrie, affectionately. "This is
+dreadful, Nan! I can hardly believe it. What are we to do without you?
+and where is the Friary? and what is it like? and what will you do
+with yourselves when you get there?"
+
+"Yes, indeed, that is what we want to know," agreed Miss Sartoris,
+putting her delicately-gloved hand on Nan's shoulder; and then Sophy
+Paine joined the little group, and Mrs. Forbes and Miss Twentyman left
+off talking to Phillis, and began listening; with all their might. Now
+it was that Nan began to foresee difficulties.
+
+"The Friary is very small," she went on, "but it will just hold us and
+Dorothy. Dorothy is coming with us, of course. She is old, but she
+works better than some of the young ones. She is a faithful
+creature----"
+
+But Carrie interrupted her impatiently:
+
+"But, Nan, what will you do with yourselves? Hadleigh is a nice place,
+I believe. Mamma, we must all go down there next summer, and stay
+there,--you shall come with us, Adelaide,--and then we shall be able
+to cheer these poor things up; and Nan, you and Phillis must come and
+stay with us. We don't mean to give you up like this. What does it
+matter about being poor? We are all old friends together. You shall
+give us tea at the Friary; and I dare say there are tennis-grounds at
+Hadleigh, and we will have nice times together."
+
+"Of course we will come and see you," added Miss Sartoris, with a
+friendly pressure of Nan's shoulder; but the poor girl only colored up
+and looked embarrassed, and then it was that Phillis, who was watching
+her opportunity, struck in:
+
+"You are all very good; but, Carrie, I don't believe you understand
+Nan one bit. When people lose their money they have to work. We shall
+all have to put our shoulder to the wheel. We would give you tea, of
+course, but as for paying visits and playing tennis, it is only idle
+girls like yourselves who have time for that sort of thing. It will be
+work and not play, I fear, with us."
+
+"Oh, Phillis!" exclaimed poor Carrie, with tears in her eyes, and Miss
+Sartoris looked horrified, for she had West-Indian blood in her veins
+and was by nature somewhat indolent and pleasure-loving.
+
+"Do you mean you will have to be governesses?" she asked, with a touch
+of dismay in her voice.
+
+"We shall have to work," returned Phillis, vaguely. "When we are
+settled at the Friary we must look round us and do the best we can."
+This was felt to be vague by the whole party; but Phillis's manner was
+so bold and well assured that no one suspected that anything lay
+beyond the margin of her speech. They had not made up their minds,
+perhaps; Sir Francis Challoner would assist them; or there were other
+sources of help: they must move into the new house first, and then see
+what was to be done. It was so plausible, so sensible, that every one
+was deceived.
+
+"Of course you cannot decide in such a hurry: you must have so much to
+do just now," observed Carrie. "You must write and tell us all your
+plans, Phillis, and if there be anything we can do to help you. Mamma,
+we might have Mrs. Challoner here while the cottage is dismantled. Do
+spare her to us, Nan, and we will take such care of her!" And they
+were still discussing this point, and trying to overrule Nan's
+objections,--who knew nothing would induce her mother to leave
+them,--when other visitors were announced, and in the confusion they
+were allowed to make their escape.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+"LADDIE" PUTS IN AN APPEARANCE.
+
+
+"I think we have managed that as well as possible!" exclaimed Phillis,
+when they found themselves outside the gates. "What a good thing
+Adelaide and Mrs. Forbes and Lily were there! Now we need only call at
+those three houses to say good-bye. How hot you look, Nan! and how
+they all hemmed you in! I was obliged to come to your rescue, you were
+so beset; but I think I have put them off the scent."
+
+"Yes, for the present; but think, Phil, if Carrie really carries out
+her intention, and all the Paine tribe and Adelaide come down to
+Hadleigh next summer! No wonder I am hot; the bare idea suffocates
+me."
+
+"Something may turn up before then; it is no good looking so far
+ahead," was the philosophical rejoinder. "Adelaide is rather
+formidable, certainly, and, in spite of her good nature, one does not
+feel at home with her. There is a flavor of money about her, I think;
+she dresses, talks, and lives in such a gilded way one finds her
+heavy; but she may get married before then. Mr. Dalrymple certainly
+seemed to mean it when he was down here last winter, and he will be a
+good match for her. But here we are at Fitzroy Square. I wonder what
+sort of humor her ladyship will be in?"
+
+Lady Fitzroy received them very graciously. She had just been
+indulging in a slight dispute with her husband, and the interruption
+was welcome to both of them; besides, she was always gracious to the
+Challoners.
+
+"You have just come in time, for we were boring each other
+dreadfully," she said, in her pretty languid way, holding out a hand
+to each of them. "Percival, will you ring the bell, please? I cannot
+think why Thorpe does not bring up the tea as usual!"
+
+Lord Fitzroy obeyed his wife's behest, and then he turned with a
+relieved air to his old friend Phillis. She was the clever one; and
+though some people called her quiet, that was because they did not
+draw her out, or she had no sympathy with them. He had always found
+her decidedly amusing and agreeable in the days of his bachelorhood.
+
+He had married the beauty of a season, but the beauty was not without
+her little crotchets and tempers; and though he was both fond and
+proud of his wife, he found Phillis's talk a relief this afternoon.
+
+But Phillis was a little _distraite_ on this occasion: she wanted to
+hear what Nan was saying in a low voice across the room, and Thorpe
+and his subordinate were setting the tea-table, and Lord Fitzroy would
+place himself just before her.
+
+"Now look here, Miss Challoner," he was saying, "I want to tell you
+all about it;" but here Thorpe left the room, and Lady Fitzroy
+interrupted them:
+
+"Oh, Percival, what a pity! Do you hear?--we are going to lose our
+nicest neighbors? Dear little Glen Cottage is to be empty in a week or
+so!"
+
+"Mr. Ralph Ibbetson will decide to take it, I think; and he and Miss
+Blake are to be married on the 16th of next month," returned Nan,
+softly.
+
+"Ibbetson at Glen Cottage! that red-headed fellow! My dear Miss
+Challoner, what sacrilege!--what desecration! What do you mean by
+forsaking us in this fashion? Are you all going to be married? Has Sir
+Francis died and left you a fortune? In the name of all that is
+mysterious, what is the meaning of this?"
+
+"If you will let a person speak, Percival," returned his wife, with
+dignity, "you shall have an answer:" and then she looked up in his
+handsome, good-natured face, and her manner softened insensibly. "Poor
+dear Mrs. Challoner has had losses! Some one has played her false, and
+they are obliged to leave Glen Cottage. But Hadleigh is a nice place,"
+she went on, turning to Nan: "it is very select."
+
+"Where did you say, Evelyn?" inquired her husband, eagerly. "Hadleigh,
+in Sussex? Oh, that is a snug little place; no Toms and Harries go
+down there on a nine hours' trip. I was there myself once, with the
+Shannontons. Perhaps Lady Fitzroy and I may run down one day and have
+a look at you," he continued, with a friendly look at Phillis. It was
+only one of his good-natured speeches, but his wife took umbrage at
+it.
+
+"The sea never agrees with me. I thought you knew that, Percival!"
+rather reproachfully; "but I dare say we shall often see you here,"
+she went on, fearing Nan would think her ungracious. "You and the
+Paines are so intimate that they are sure to have you for weeks
+together; it is so pleasant revisiting an old neighborhood, is it not?
+I know I always feel that with regard to Nuneaton."
+
+"Nuneaton never suits my constitution. I thought you would have
+remembered that, Evelyn," returned her husband, gravely; and then they
+both laughed. Lord Fitzroy was not without a sense of humor, and often
+restored amity by a joking word after this fashion, and then the
+conversation proceeded more smoothly.
+
+Nan and Phillis felt far more at their ease here than they had felt at
+the Paines'. There were no awkward questions asked: Lady Fitzroy was
+far too well bred for that. If she wondered at all how the Challoners
+were to live after they had lost their money, she kept such remarks
+for her husband's private ear.
+
+"Those girls ought to marry well," observed Lord Fitzroy, when he
+found himself alone again with his wife. "Miss Challoner is as pretty
+a creature as one need see, but Miss Phillis has the most in her."
+
+"How are they to meet people if they are going to bury themselves in a
+little sea-side place?" she returned, regretfully. "Shall I put on my
+habit now, Percy? do you think it will be cool enough for our ride?"
+
+"Yes, run along, my pet, and don't keep me too long waiting."
+Nevertheless, Lord Fitzroy did not object when his wife made room for
+him a moment beside her on the couch, while she made it up to him for
+her cross speeches, as she told him.
+
+"There, little mother, it is all done!" exclaimed Phillis, in a tone
+of triumph, as later on in the afternoon they returned to the cottage;
+but in spite of her bravado, both the girls looked terribly jaded, and
+Nan especially seemed out of spirits; but then they had been round the
+Longmead garden, and had gathered some flowers in the conservatory,
+and this alone would have been depressing work to Nan.
+
+From that time they lived in a perpetual whirl, a bustle of activity
+that grew greater; and not less, from day to day. Mrs. Challoner had
+quietly but decidedly refused the Paines' invitation. Nan was right;
+nothing would have induced her to leave her girls in their trouble:
+she made light of their discomfort, forgot her invalid airs, and
+persisted in fatiguing herself to an alarming extent.
+
+"You must let me do things; I should be wretched to sit with my hands
+before me, and not help you," she said with tears in her eyes, and
+when they appealed in desperation to Dorothy, she took her mistress's
+side:
+
+"Working hurts less than worrying. Don't you be fretting about the
+mistress too much, or watching her too closely. It will do her no
+harm, take my word for it." And Dorothy was right.
+
+But there was one piece of work that Nan set her mother to do before
+they left the cottage.
+
+"Mother," she said to her one day when they were alone together. "Mrs.
+Mayne will be wondering why you do not answer her letter. I think you
+had better write, and tell her a little about things. We must not put
+it off any longer, or she will be hurt with us." And Mrs. Challoner
+very reluctantly set about her unpleasant task.
+
+But, after all, it was Nan who furnished the greater part of the
+composition. Mrs. Challoner was rather verbose and descriptive in her
+style. Nan cut down her sentences ruthlessly, and so pruned and
+simplified the whole epistle that her mother failed to trace her own
+handiwork: and at the last she added a postscript in her own pretty
+handwriting.
+
+Mrs. Challoner was rather dissatisfied with the whole thing.
+
+"You have said so little, Nan! Mrs. Mayne will be quite affronted at
+our reticence."
+
+"What is the use of harrowing people's feelings?" was Nan's response.
+
+It was quite true she had dwelt as little as possible on their
+troubles.
+
+The few opening sentences had related solely to their friends'
+affairs.
+
+"You will be sorry to hear," Mrs. Challoner wrote after this, "that I
+have met with some severe losses. I dare say Mr. Mayne will remember
+that my poor husband invested our little income in the business of his
+cousin, Mark Gardiner. We have just heard the unwelcome news that
+Gardiner & Fowler have failed for a large amount. Under these
+circumstances, we think it more prudent to leave Glen Cottage as soon
+as possible, and settle at Hadleigh, where we have a small house
+belonging to us called the Friary. Fortunately for us, Mr. Trinder has
+found us a tenant, who will take the remainder of the lease off our
+hands. Do you remember Mr. Ralph Ibbetson, the Paines' cousin, that
+rather heavy-looking young man, with reddish hair, who was engaged to
+that pretty Miss Blake?--well, he has taken Glen Cottage; and I hope
+you will find them nice neighbors. Tell Dick he must not be too sorry
+to miss his old friends, but of course you will understand this is a
+sad break to us. Settling down in a new place is never very pleasant;
+and as my girls will have to help themselves, and we shall all have to
+learn to do without things, it will be somewhat of a discipline to us;
+but as long as we are together, we all feel, such difficulties can be
+easily borne.
+
+"Tell Mr. Mayne that, if I had foreseen how things were to turn out, I
+would have conquered my indisposition, and not have forfeited my last
+evening at Longmead."
+
+And in the postscript Nan wrote hurriedly,--
+
+"You must not be too sorry for us, dear Mrs. Mayne, for mother is as
+brave as possible, and we are all determined to make the best of
+things.
+
+"Of course it is very sad leaving dear Glen Cottage, where we have
+spent such happy, happy days; but, though the Friary is small, we
+shall make it very comfortable. Tell Dick the garden is a perfect
+wilderness at present, and that there are no roses,--only a splendid
+passion-flower that covers the whole back of the house."
+
+Nan never knew why she wrote this. Was it to remind him vaguely that
+the time of roses was over, and that from this day things would be
+different with them?
+
+Nan was quite satisfied when she had despatched this letter. It told
+just enough, and not too much. It sorely perplexed and troubled Dick;
+and yet neither he nor his father had the least idea how things really
+were with the Challoners.
+
+"Didn't I tell you so, Bessie?" exclaimed Mr. Mayne, almost in a voice
+of triumph, as he struck his hand upon the letter. "Paine was right
+when he spoke of a shaky investment. That comes of women pretending to
+understand business. A pretty mess they seem to have made of it!"
+
+"Mother," said poor Dick, coming up to her when he found himself alone
+with her for a moment, "I don't understand this letter. I cannot read
+between the lines, somehow, and yet there seems something more than
+meets the eye."
+
+"I am sure it is bad enough," returned Mrs. Mayne, who had been
+quietly crying over Nan's postscript. "Think of them leaving Glen
+Cottage, and of these poor dear girls having to make themselves
+useful!"
+
+"It is just that that bothers me so," replied Dick, with a frowning
+brow. "The letter tells us so little; it is so constrained in tone; as
+though they were keeping something from us. Of course they have
+something to live upon, but I am afraid it is very little."
+
+"Very likely they will only have one servant,--just Dorothy and no one
+else; and the girls will have to help in the house," returned his
+mother, thoughtfully. "That will not do them any harm, Dick: it always
+improves girls to make them useful. I dare say the Friary is a very
+small place, and then I am sure, with a little help, Dorothy will do
+very well."
+
+"But, mother," pleaded Dick, who was somewhat comforted by this
+sensible view of the matter, "do write to Nan or Phillis and beg of
+them to give us fuller particulars." And, though Mrs. Mayne promised
+she would do so, and kept her word, Dick was not satisfied, but sat
+down and scrawled a long letter to Mrs. Challoner, so incoherent in
+its expressions of sympathy and regret that it quite mystified her;
+but Nan thought it perfect, and took possession of it, and read it
+every day, until it got quite thin and worn. One sentence especially
+pleased her. "I don't intend ever to cross the threshold of the
+cottage again," wrote Dick: "in fact, Oldfield will be hateful without
+you all. Of course I shall run down to Hadleigh at Christmas and look
+you up, and see for myself what sort of a place the Friary is. Tell
+Nan I will get her lots of roses for her garden so she need not
+trouble about that; and give them my love, and tell them how awfully
+sorry I am about it all."
+
+Poor Dick! the news of his friends' misfortunes took off the edge of
+his enjoyment for a long time. Thanks to Nan's unselfishness, he did
+not in the least realize the true state of affairs; nevertheless, his
+honest heart was heavy at the thought of the empty cottage, and he was
+quite right in saying Oldfield had grown suddenly hateful to him, and,
+though he kept these thoughts to himself as much as possible, Mr.
+Mayne saw that his son was depressed and ill at ease, and sent him
+away to the Swiss Tyrol, with a gay party of young people, hoping a
+few weeks' change would put the Challoners out of his head. Meanwhile
+Nan and her sisters worked busily, and their friends crowded round
+them, helping or hindering, according to their nature.
+
+On the last afternoon there was a regular invasion of the cottage. The
+drawing-room carpet was up, and the room was full of packing-cases.
+Carrie Paine had taken possession of one and her sister Sophy and Lily
+Twentyman had a turned-up box between them. Miss Sartoris and Gussie
+Scobell had wicker chairs. Dorothy had just brought in tea, and had
+placed before Nan a heterogeneous assemblage of kitchen cups and
+saucers, mugs, and odds and ends of crockery, when Lady Fitzroy
+entered in her habit, accompanied by her sister, the Honorable Maud
+Burgoyne, both of whom seemed to enjoy the picnic excessively.
+
+"Do let me have the mug," implored Miss Burgoyne: she was a pretty
+little brunette with a _nez retrousse_. "I have never drunk out of one
+since my nursery days. How cool it is, after the sunny roads! I think
+carpets ought to be abolished in the summer. When I have a house of my
+own, Evelyn, I mean to have Indian matting and nothing else in the
+warm weather."
+
+"I am very fond of Indian matting," returned her sister, sipping her
+tea contentedly. "Fitzroy hoped to have looked in this afternoon, Mrs.
+Challoner, to say good-bye, but there is an assault-at-arms at the
+Albert Hall, and he is taking my young brother Algernon to see it. He
+is quite inconsolable at the thought of losing such pleasant
+neighbors, and sent all sorts of pretty messages," finished Lady
+Fitzroy, graciously.
+
+"Here is Edgar," exclaimed Carrie Paine; "he told us that he meant to
+put in an appearance; but I am afraid the poor boy will find himself
+_de trop_ among so many ladies."
+
+Edgar was the youngest Paine,--a tall Eton boy, who looked as though
+he would soon be too big for jackets, and an especial friend of
+Nan's.
+
+"How good of you to come and say good-bye, Gar!" she said summoning
+him to her side, as the boy looked round him blushing and half
+terrified. "What have you got there under your jacket?"
+
+"It is the puppy I promised you," returned Edgar, eagerly; "don't you
+know?--Nell's puppy? Father said I might have it." And he deposited a
+fat black retriever puppy at Nan's feet. The little beast made a
+clumsy rush at her and then rolled over on its back. Nan took it up
+in high delight, and showed it to her mother.
+
+"Isn't it good of Gar, mother? and when we all wanted a dog so! We
+have never had a pet since poor old Juno died; and this will be such a
+splendid fellow when he grows up. Look at his head and curly black
+paws; and what a dear solemn face he has got!"
+
+"I am glad you like him," replied Edgar, who was now perfectly at his
+ease. "We have christened him 'Laddie:' he is the handsomest puppy of
+the lot, and our man Jake says he is perfectly healthy." And then, as
+Nan cut him some cake, he proceeded to enlighten her on the treatment
+of this valuable animal.
+
+The arrival of "Laddie" made quite a diversion, and, when the
+good-byes were all said, Nan took the little animal in her arms and
+went with Phillis for the last time to gather flowers in the Longmead
+garden, and when the twilight came on the three girls went slowly
+through the village, bidding farewell to their old haunts.
+
+It was all very sad, and nobody slept much that night in the cottage.
+Nan's tears were shed very quietly, but they fell thick and fast.
+
+"Oh, Dick, it is hard--hard!" thought the poor girl, burying her face
+in the pillow; "but I have not let you know the day, so you will not
+be thinking of us. I would not pain you for worlds, Dick, not more
+than I can help." And then she dried her eyes and told herself that
+she must be brave for all their sakes to-morrow; but, for all her good
+resolutions, sleep would not come to her any more than it did to
+Phillis, who lay open-eyed and miserable until morning.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+"I MUST HAVE GRACE."
+
+
+When the Rev. Archibald Drummond was nominated to the living of
+Hadleigh in Sussex, it was at once understood by his family that he
+had achieved a decided success in life.
+
+Hadleigh until very recently had been a perpetual curacy, and the
+perpetual curate in charge had lived in the large, shabby house with
+the green door on the Braidwood Road, as it was called. There had been
+some talk of a new vicarage, but as yet the first brick had not been
+laid, the building-committee had fallen out on the question of the
+site, and nothing had been definitely arranged: there was a good deal
+of talk, too, about the church restoration, but at the present moment
+nothing had been done.
+
+Mr. Drummond had not been disturbed in his mind by the delay of the
+building-committee in the matter of the new vicarage, but on the topic
+of the church restoration he had been heard to say very bitter
+things,--far too bitter, it was thought, to proceed from the lips of
+such a new-comer. It is not always wise to be outspoken, and when Mr.
+Drummond expressed himself a little too frankly on the ugliness of the
+sacred edifice, which until lately had been a chapel-of-ease, he had
+caused a great deal of dissatisfaction in the mind of his hearers; but
+when the young vicar, still strongly imbued with the beauties of
+Oxford architecture, had looked round blankly on the great square pews
+and galleries, and then at the wooden pulpit, and the Ten Commandments
+that adorned the east end, he was not quite so sure in his mind that
+his position was as enviable as that of other men.
+
+Church architecture was his hobby, and, if the truth must be told, he
+was a little "High" in his views; without attaching himself to the
+Ultra-Ritualistic party, he was still strongly impregnated with many
+of their ideas; he preferred Gregorian to Anglican chants, and would
+have had no objection to incense if his diocesan could have been
+brought to appreciate it too.
+
+An ornate service was decidedly to his taste. It was, therefore, a
+severe mortification when he found himself compelled to minister
+Sunday after Sunday in a building that was ugly enough for a
+conventicle, and to listen to the florid voices of a mixed choir,
+instead of the orderly array of men and boys in white surplices to
+which he had been accustomed. If he had been combative by nature,--one
+who loved to gird his armor about him and to plunge into every sort of
+_melee_,--he would have rejoiced after a fashion at the thought of the
+work cut out for him, of bringing order and beauty out of this chaos;
+but he was by nature too impatient. He would have condemned and
+destroyed instead of trying to renovate.
+
+"Why not build a new church at once?" he said, with a certain youthful
+intolerance that made people angry. "Never mind the vicarage; the old
+house will last my time: but a place like this--a rising place--ought
+to have a church worthy of it. It will be money thrown away to restore
+this one," finished the young vicar, looking round him with sorely
+troubled eyes; and it was this outspoken frankness that had lost him
+popularity at first.
+
+But, if the new vicar had secret cause for discontent in the Drummond
+family there was nothing but the sweetness of triumph.
+
+"Archie has never given me a moment's trouble from his birth," his
+proud mother was wont to declare; and it must be owned that the young
+man had done very fairly for himself.
+
+There had been plenty of anxiety in the Drummond household while
+Archibald was enjoying his first Oxford term. Things had come to a
+climax: his father, who was a Leeds manufacturer, had failed most
+utterly, and to a large amount. The firm of Drummond & Drummond, once
+known as a most respectable and reliable firm, had come suddenly, but
+not unexpectedly to the ground; and Archibald Drummond the elder had
+been compelled to accept a managership in the very firm that, by
+competition and underselling, had helped to ruin him.
+
+It was a heavy trial to a man of Mr. Drummond's proud temperament; but
+he went through with it in a tough, dogged way that excited his wife's
+admiration. True, his bread was bitter to him for a long time, and the
+sweetness of life, as he told himself, was over for him; but he had a
+large family to maintain, sons and daughters growing up around him,
+and the youngest was not yet six months old; under such circumstances
+a man may be induced to put his pride in his pocket.
+
+"Your father has grown quite gray, and has begun to stoop. It makes my
+heart quite ache to see him sometimes," Mrs. Drummond wrote to her
+eldest son; "but he never says a word to any of us. He just goes
+through with it day after day."
+
+At that time Archie was her great comfort. He had begun to make his
+own way early in life, understanding from the first that his parents
+could do very little for him. He had worked well at school, and had
+succeeded in obtaining one or two scholarships. When his university
+life commenced, and the household at Leeds became straitened in their
+circumstances, he determined not to encumber them with his presence.
+
+He soon became known in his college as a reading-man and a steady
+worker; he was fortunate, too, in obtaining pupils for the long
+vacation. By and by he became a fellow and tutor of his college, and
+before he was eight-and-twenty the living of Hadleigh was offered to
+him. It was not at all a rich living,--not being worth more than three
+hundred a year,--and some of his Oxford friends would have dissuaded
+him from accepting it; but Archibald Drummond was not of their
+opinion. Oxford did not suit his constitution; he was never well
+there. Sussex air, and especially the sea-side, would give him just
+the tone he required. He liked the big old-fashioned house that would
+be allotted to him. He could take pupils and add to his income in that
+way; at present he had his fellowship. It was only in the event of his
+marriage that his income might not be found sufficient. At the present
+moment he had no matrimonial intentions: there was only one thing on
+which he was determined, and that was, that Grace must live with him
+and keep his house.
+
+Grace was the sister next to him in age. Mattie,--or Matilda, as her
+mother often called her,--was the eldest of the family, and was two
+years older than Archibald. Between him and Grace there were two
+brothers, Fred and Clyde, and beyond Grace a string of girls ending in
+Dottie, who was not yet ten. Archibald used to forget their ages and
+mix them up in the most helpless way; he was never quite sure if
+Isabel were eighteen or twenty, or whether Clara or Susie came next.
+He once forgot Laura altogether, and was only reminded of her
+existence by the shock of surprise at seeing the awkward-looking,
+ungainly girl standing before him, looking shyly up in his face.
+
+Archibald was never quite alive to the blessing of having seven
+sisters, none of them with any pretension to beauty, unless it were
+Grace, though he was obliged to confess on his last visit to Leeds
+that Isabel was certainly passable-looking. He tried to take a proper
+amount of interest in them and be serenely unconscious of their want
+of grace and polish; but the effort was too manifest, and neither
+Clara nor Susie nor Laura regarded their grave elder brother with any
+lively degree of affection. Mrs. Drummond was a somewhat stern and
+exacting mother, but she was never so difficult to please as when her
+eldest son was at home.
+
+"Home is never so comfortable when Archie is in it," Susie would
+grumble to her favorite confidante, Grace. "Every one is obliged to be
+on their best behavior; and yet mother finds fault from morning to
+night. Dottie is crying now because she has been scolded for coming
+down to tea in a dirty pinafore."
+
+"Oh, hush, Susie dear! you ought not to say such things," returned
+Grace, in her quiet voice.
+
+Poor Grace! these visits of Archie were her only pleasures. The
+brother and sister were devoted to each other. In Archie's eyes not
+one of the others was to be compared to her; and in this he was
+perfectly right.
+
+Grace Drummond was a tall, sweet-looking girl of two-and-twenty,--not
+pretty, except in her brother's opinion, but possessing a soft, fair
+comeliness that made her pleasant to look upon. In voice and manner
+she was extremely quiet,--almost grave; and only those who lived with
+her had any idea of the repressed strength and energy of her
+character, and the almost masculine clearness of intellect that lay
+under the soft exterior. One side of her nature was hidden from every
+one but her brother, and to him only revealed by intermittent flashes,
+and that was the passionate absorption of her affection in him. To her
+parents she was dutiful and submissive, but when she grew up the yoke
+of her mother's will was felt to be oppressive. Her father's nature
+was more in sympathy with her own; but even with him she was reticent.
+She was good to all her brothers and sisters, and especially devoted
+to Dottie; but her affection for them was so strongly pervaded by
+anxiety and the overweight of responsibility that its pains
+overbalanced its pleasures. She loved them, and toiled in their
+service from morning to night; but as yet she had not felt herself
+rewarded by any decided success. But in Archie her pride was equal to
+her love; she was critical, and her standard was somewhat high, but he
+satisfied her. What other people recognized as faults, she regarded
+as the merest blemishes. Without being absolutely faultless, which was
+of course impossible in a creature of flesh and blood, he was still as
+near perfection, she thought, as he could be. Perhaps her affection
+for him blinded her somewhat, and cast a sort of loving glamour over
+her eyes; for it must be owned that Archibald was by no means
+extraordinary in either goodness or cleverness. From a boy she had
+watched his career with dazzled eyes, rejoicing in every stroke of
+success that came to him as though it were her own. Her own life was
+dull and laborious, spent in the overcrowded house in Lowder Street,
+but she forgot it in following his. Now and then bright days came to
+her,--few in number, but absolutely golden, when this dearly-loved
+brother came on a brief visit,--when they had snatches of delicious
+talk in the empty school-room at the top of the house, or he took her
+out with him for a long, quiet walk.
+
+Mrs. Drummond always made some dry sarcastic remark when they came in,
+for she was secretly jealous of Archie's affection for Grace. Hers was
+rather a monopolizing nature, and she would willingly have had the
+first share in her son's affections. It somewhat displeased her to see
+him so wrapt up in the one sister to the exclusion of all the others,
+as she told him.
+
+"I think you might have asked Matilda or Isabel to accompany you. The
+poor girls never see anything of you, Archie," she would say
+plaintively to her son. But to Grace she would speak somewhat sharply,
+bidding her fulfil some neglected duty, which another could as well
+have performed, and making her at once understand by her manner that
+she was to blame in leaving Mattie at home.
+
+"Mother," Archibald said to her one day, when she had spoken with
+unusual severity, and the poor girl had retreated from the room,
+feeling as though she had been convicted of selfishness, "we must
+settle the matter about which I spoke to you last night. I have been
+thinking about it ever since. Mattie will not do at all. I must have
+Grace!"
+
+Mrs. Drummond looked up from her mending, and her thin lips settled
+into a hard line that they always took when her mind was made up on a
+disagreeable subject. She had a pinafore belonging to Dottie in her
+hand; there was a jagged rent in it, and she sighed impatiently as she
+put it down; though she was not a woman who shirked any of her
+maternal duties, she had often been heard to say that her work was
+never done, and that her mending-basket was never empty.
+
+"But if I cannot spare Grace," she said, rather shortly, as she
+meditated another lecture to the delinquent Dottie.
+
+"But, mother, you must spare her!" returned her son, eagerly, leaning
+his elbow on the mantelpiece, and watching her rapid manipulations
+with apparent interest. "Look here; I am quite in earnest. I have set
+my heart on having Grace. She is just the one to manage a clergyman's
+household. She would be my right hand in the parish."
+
+"She is our right hand too, Archie; but I suppose we are to cut it
+off, that it may benefit you and your parish."
+
+Mrs. Drummond seldom spoke so sharply to her eldest son; but this
+request of his was grievous to her.
+
+"I think Grace ought to be considered, too, in the matter," he
+returned, somwhat sullenly. "She works harder than any paid governess,
+and gets small thanks for her trouble."
+
+"She does her duty," returned Mrs. Drummond, coldly,--she very seldom
+praised any of her children,--"but not more than Mattie does hers. You
+are prejudiced strongly against your sister, Archie; you are not fair
+to her in any way. Mattie is a capital little housekeeper. She is
+economical, and full of clever contrivances. It is not as though I
+asked you to try Isabel. She is well enough, too, in her way, but a
+little flighty, and rather too pretty, perhaps--" but here a laugh
+from Archie grated on her ear.
+
+"Too pretty!--what an absurd idea! The girl is passable-looking, and I
+will not deny that she has improved lately; but, mother, there is not
+one of the girls that can be called pretty except Grace."
+
+Mrs. Drummond winced at her son's outspoken words. The plainness of
+her daughters was a sore subject.
+
+She had never understood why her girls were so ordinary-looking. She
+had been a handsome girl in her time, and was still a fine-looking
+woman. Her husband, too, had had a fair amount of good looks, and,
+though he stooped, was still admirable in her eyes. The boys, too,
+were thoroughly fine fellows. Fred was decidedly handsome, and so was
+Clyde; and as for her favorite Archie, Mrs. Drummond glanced up at him
+as he stood beside her.
+
+He certainly looked a model young clergyman. His features were good,
+but the lower part of his face was quite hidden by the fair mustache
+and the soft silky beard. He had thoughtful gray eyes, which could
+look as severe as hers sometimes; and, though his shoulders were
+somewhat too sloping, there could be no fault found with his figure.
+He was as nice-looking as possible, she thought, and no mother could
+have been better satisfied. But why, with the exception of Grace and
+Isabel, were her girls so deficient in outward graces? It could not be
+denied that they were very ordinary girls. Laura was overgrown and
+freckled, and had red hair; Susie was sickly-looking, and so
+short-sighted that they feared she would have to take to spectacles;
+and Clara was stolid and heavy-looking, one of those thick-set girls
+that dress never seems to improve. Dottie had a funny little face; but
+one could not judge of her yet. And Mattie,--Mrs. Drummond sighed
+again as she thought of her eldest daughter,--Mattie was thirty; and
+her mother felt she would never marry. It was not that she was so
+absolutely plain,--people who liked her said Mattie had a nice
+face,--but she was so abrupt, so uncouth in her awkwardness, such a
+stranger to the minor morals of life, that it would be a wonder indeed
+if she could find favor in any man's eyes.
+
+"I do think you are too hard on your sisters," returned Mrs. Drummond,
+stung by her son's remark. "Isabel was very much admired at her first
+party last week. Mrs. Cochrane told me so, and so did Miss Blair." She
+could have added that her maternal interest had been strongly stirred
+by the mention of a certain Mr. Ellis Burton, who she had understood
+had paid a great deal of attention that evening to Isabel, and who was
+the eldest son of a wealthy manufacturer in Leeds. But Mrs. Drummond
+had some good old-fashioned notions, and one of these was never to
+speak on such delicate subjects as the matrimonial prospects of her
+daughters: indeed, she often thanked heaven she was not a match-making
+mother,--which was as well, under the circumstances.
+
+"Well, well, we are not talking about Isabel," returned her son,
+impatiently. "The question is about Grace, mother. I really do wish
+very much that you and my father would stretch a point for me here. I
+want her more than I can say."
+
+"But, Archie, you must be reasonable. Just think a moment. Your father
+cannot afford to send the girls to school, or to pay for a good
+finishing governess. We have given Grace every advantage; and just as
+she is making herself really useful to me in the school-room, you want
+to deprive me of her services."
+
+"You know I offered to pay for Clara's schooling," returned her son,
+reproachfully. "She is more than sixteen, is she not! Surely Mattie
+could teach the others?"
+
+But Mrs. Drummond's clear, concise voice interrupted him:
+
+"Archie, how can you talk such nonsense? You know poor Mattie was
+never good at book-learning. She would hardly do for Dottie. Ask
+Grace, if you doubt my word."
+
+"Of course I do not doubt it, mother," in rather an aggravated voice,
+for he felt he was having the worst of the argument.
+
+"Then why do you not believe me when I tell you the thing you ask is
+impossible?" replied his mother more calmly. "I am sorry for you if
+you are disappointed, Archie; but you undervalue Mattie,--you do
+indeed. She will make you a nice little housekeeper, and, though she
+is not clever, she is so amiable that nothing ever puts her out; and
+visiting the poor and sick-nursing are more in her line than in
+Grace's. Mrs. Blair finds her invaluable. She wanted her for one of
+her district visitors, and I said she had too much to do at home."
+
+Archie shrugged his shoulders. Mrs. Blair was the wife of the vicar of
+All Saints', where the Drummonds attended, and from a boy she had been
+his pet aversion. She was a bustling, managing woman, and of course
+Mattie was just to her taste. He did not see much use in continuing
+the conversation; with all his affection for his mother,--and she was
+better loved by her sons than by her daughters,--he knew her to be as
+immovable as a rock when she had once made up her mind. He thought at
+first of appealing to his father on Grace's behalf, but abandoned this
+notion after a few minutes' reflection. His father was decided and
+firm in all matters relating to business, but for many years past he
+had abandoned the domestic reins to his wife's capable hands. Perhaps
+he had proved her worth and prudence; perhaps he thought the
+management of seven daughters too much for any man. Anyhow, he
+interfered less and less as the years went on; and if at any time he
+differed from his wife, she could always talk him over, as her son
+well knew.
+
+When the subject had been first mooted in the household, he had said a
+word or two to his father, and had found him very reluctant to
+entertain the idea of parting with Grace. She was his favorite
+daughter, and he thought how he should miss her when he came home
+weary and jaded at night.
+
+"I don't think it will do at all," he had said, in an undecided
+dissatisfied tone. "Won't one of the other girls serve your turn?
+There's Mattie, or that little monkey Isabel, she is as pert and
+lively as possible. But Grace; why, she is every one's right hand.
+What would the mother or the young ones do without her?"
+
+No; it was no use appealing to his father, Archie thought, and might
+only make mischief in the house. He and Grace must make up their mind
+to a few more years' separation. He turned away after his mother's
+last speech, and finally left the room without saying another word.
+There was a cloud on his face, and Mrs. Drummond saw that he was much
+displeased; but, though she sighed again as she took up a pair of
+Clyde's socks and inspected them carefully, there was no change in her
+resolution that Mattie, and not Grace, should go to the vicarage for
+the year's visit that was all Archie had asked.
+
+There are mothers and mothers in this world,--some who are capable of
+sacrificing their children to Moloch, who will barter their own flesh
+and blood in return for some barren heritage or other. There are those
+who will exact from those dependent on them heavy tithes of daily
+patience and uncomplaining drudgery; while others, who are "mothers
+indeed" give all, asking for nothing in return.
+
+Mrs. Drummond was a good woman. She had many virtues and few faults.
+She was lady-like, industrious and self-denying in her own personal
+comforts, an exemplary wife, and a tolerant mistress; but she was
+better understood by her sons than by her daughters.
+
+Her maternal instincts were very strong, and no mother had more
+delighted in her nursery than she had in hers. As long as there was a
+baby in the house the tenderness of her love was apparent enough. She
+wore herself out tending her infants, and no one ever heard her say a
+harsh word in her nursery.
+
+But as her children grew up, there was much clashing of wills in the
+household. Her sons did not fear her in the least; but with her
+daughters it was otherwise. They felt the mother's strong will
+repressive; it threatened to dwarf their individuality and cramp that
+free growth that is so necessary to young things.
+
+Dottie, who by virtue of being the last baby had had more than her
+fair amount of petting, was only just beginning to learn her lesson of
+unquestioning obedience; and, as she was somewhat spoiled, her lesson
+was hard one. But Laura and Susie and Clara had not yet found out that
+their mother loved them and wished to be their friend; they were timid
+and reserved with her, and took all their troubles to Grace. Even
+Mattie, who was her first-born, and who was old enough to be her
+mother's companion, quailed and blushed like a child under the dry
+caustic speeches at which Clyde and Fred only laughed.
+
+"You don't understand the mother. Her bark is worse than her bite,"
+Clyde would say to his sister sometimes. "She is an awfully clever
+woman, and it riles her to see herself surrounded by such a set of
+ninnies. Now, don't sulk, Belle. You know Mattie's a duffer compared
+to Grace; aren't you, Matt?"
+
+At which truism poor Mattie would hang her head.
+
+"Yes, Clyde; I know I am dreadfully stupid sometimes, and that makes
+mother angry."
+
+Mrs. Drummond often complained bitterly of her daughters' want of
+confidence in her, but she never blamed herself for the barrier that
+seemed between them. She was forever asserting maternal authority,
+when such questions might have been safely laid to rest between her
+and her grown-up daughters. Mrs. Challoner's oneness of sympathy with
+her girls, her lax discipline, her perfect equality, would have
+shocked a woman of Mrs. Drummond's calibre. She would not have
+tolerated or understood it for a moment.
+
+"My girls must do as I wish," was a very ordinary speech in her mouth.
+"I always do as my girls wish," Mrs. Challoner would have said. And,
+indeed, the two mothers were utterly dissimilar; but it may be doubted
+whether the Challoner household were not far happier than the family
+in Lowder Street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+"YOU CAN DARE TO TELL ME THESE THINGS."
+
+
+Archibald Drummond had left his mother's presence with a cloud on his
+brow. He had plenty of filial affection for her, but it was not the
+first time that he had found her too much for him. She had often
+angered him before by her treatment of Grace, but he had told himself
+that she was his mother, that a man could have but one, and so he had
+brought himself to forgive her. But this time she had set herself
+against the cherished plan of years. He had always looked forward to
+the time when he could have Grace to live with him; they had made all
+sorts of schemes together, and all their talk had concentrated itself
+towards this point; the disappointment would place a sort of blankness
+before them; they would be working separately, far away from each
+other, and the distance would not be bridged for years.
+
+He stood for a moment in the dark, narrow hall, thinking intently over
+all this, and then he went slowly upstairs. He knew where he should
+find Grace. His mother had paid an unwonted visit to the school-room
+during their walk, and on their return had expressed herself with some
+degree of sharpness on the disorder she had found there. Grace would
+be busily engaged in putting everything to rights. It was Clara's
+business, but she had gone out, and had, as usual, forgotten all about
+it. Grace had taken the blame upon herself, of course: she was always
+shielding her younger sisters.
+
+Everything was done when he entered the room, and Grace was sitting by
+the window, with her hands folded in her lap, indulging in a few
+minutes' rare idleness. She looked up eagerly as her brother made his
+appearance.
+
+The school-room was a large, bare-looking room at the top of the
+house, with two narrow windows looking out over a lively prospect of
+roofs and chimney-pots. Mrs. Drummond had done her utmost to give it
+an air of comfort, but it was, on the whole, a dull, uncomfortable
+apartment, in spite of the faded Turkey carpet, and the curtains that
+had once been so handsome, but had now merged into unwholesome neutral
+tints.
+
+Laura, who was the wit of the family, had nicknamed it the Hospital,
+for it seemed to be a receptacle for all the maimed and rickety chairs
+of the household, footstools in a dilapidated condition, and odd
+pieces of lumber that had no other place. Archibald regarded it with a
+troubled gaze; somehow, its dinginess had never before so impressed
+him; and then as he looked at his sister the frown deepened on his
+face.
+
+"Well, Archie?"
+
+"Oh, Grace, it is no use! I have talked myself hoarse, but the mother
+is dead against it: one might as well try to move a rock. We shall
+have to make up our minds to bear our disappointment as well as we
+can."
+
+"I knew it was hopeless from the first," returned Grace, slowly; but,
+as she spoke, a sort of dimness and paleness crept over her face,
+belying her words.
+
+She was young, and in youth hope never dies. Beyond the gray daily
+horizon there is always a possible gleam, a new to-morrow; youth
+abounds in infinite surprises, in probabilities which are as large as
+they are vague. Grace told herself that she never hoped much from
+Archie's mission; yet when he came to her with his ill success
+plainly stamped upon his countenance, the dying out of her dream was
+bitter to her.
+
+"I knew it was hopeless from the first," had been her answer, and then
+breath for further words failed her, and she sat motionless, with her
+hands clasped tightly together, while Archie placed himself on the
+window-seat beside her and looked out ruefully at the opposite
+chimneys.
+
+Well, it was all over, this dearly-cherished scheme of theirs; she
+must go on now with the dull routine of daily duties, she must stoop
+her neck afresh to the yoke she had long found so galling; this
+school-room must be her world, she must not hope any longer for wider
+vistas, for more expansive horizons, for tasks that should be more
+congenial to her, for all that was now made impossible.
+
+Mattie, not she, must go and keep Archie's house, and here for a
+moment she closed her eyes, the pain was so bitter; she thought of the
+old vicarage, of the garden where she and Archie were to have worked,
+of the shabby old study where he meant to write his sermons, while she
+was to sit beside him with her book or needlework, of the evenings
+when he had promised to read to her, of the walks they were to have
+taken together, of all the dear delightful plans they had made.
+
+And now her mother had said them nay; it was Mattie who was to be his
+housekeeper, who would sit opposite to him and pour out his coffee,
+who would mend his socks and do all the thousand-and-one things that a
+woman delights in doing for the mankind dependent on her for comfort.
+
+Mattie would visit his poor people, and teach in the schools,
+entertain his friends, and listen to his voice every Sunday; here
+tears slowly gathered under the closed eyelids. Yes, Mattie would do
+all that, but she would not be his chosen friend and companion; there
+would be no long charming talks for her in the study or the sunny
+garden; he would be as lonely, poor fellow, in his way as she would be
+in hers, and for this her mother was to blame.
+
+"Well, Gracie, haven't you a word to say?" asked her brother, at last,
+surprised at her long silence.
+
+"No, Archie; it does not bear talking about," she returned, so
+passionately that he turned round to look at her. "I must not even
+think of it. I must try and shut it all out of my mind, or I shall be
+no good to any one. But it is hard--hard!" with a quiver of her lip.
+
+"I call it a shame for my father and mother to sacrifice you in this
+way!" he burst out, moved to bitter indignation at the sight of her
+trouble. "I shall tell my father what I think about it pretty
+plainly!"
+
+But this speech recalled Grace to her senses.
+
+"Oh, no, dear! you must do no such thing: promise me you will not. It
+would be no good at all; and it would only make mother so angry. You
+know he always thinks as she does about things, so it would be no
+use. I suppose"--with an impatient sigh--"that I ought to feel myself
+complimented at knowing I cannot be spared. Some girls would be proud
+to feel themselves their mother's right hand; but to me it does not
+seem much of a privilege."
+
+"Don't talk in that way, Grace: it makes me miserable to hear you. I
+am more sorry for you than I am for myself, and yet I am sorry for
+myself too. If it were not that my mother would be too deeply
+offended, I would refuse to have Mattie at all. We never have got on
+well together. She is a good little thing in her way, but her
+awkwardness and left-handed ways will worry me incessantly. And then
+we have not an idea in common----" but here Grace generously
+interposed:
+
+"Poor old fellow! as though I did not know all that; but you must not
+vent it on poor Mattie. She is not to blame for our disappointment.
+She would gladly give it up to me if she could. I know she will do her
+utmost to please you, Archie, and she is so good and amiable that you
+must overlook her little failings and make the best of her."
+
+"It will be rather difficult work, I am afraid," returned her brother,
+grimly. "I shall always be drawing invidious comparisons between you
+both, and thinking what you would do in her place."
+
+"All the same you must try and be good to her for my sake, for I am
+very fond of Mattie," she returned, gently; but he could not help
+feeling gratified at the assurance that he would miss her. And then
+she put her hand on his coat-sleeve, and stroked it, a favorite caress
+with her. "It does not bear talking about: does it, Archie? It only
+makes it feel worse. I think it must be meant as a discipline for me,
+because I am so wicked, and that it would not do at all for me to be
+too happy." And here she pressed his arm, and looked up in his face,
+with an attempt at a smile.
+
+"No, you are right: talking only makes it worse," he returned,
+hurriedly; and then he stooped--for he was a tall man--and kissed her
+on the forehead just between her eyes, and then walked to the door,
+whistling a light air.
+
+Grace did not think him at all abrupt in thus breaking off the
+conversation. She had caught his meaning in a moment, and knew the
+whole business was so painful to him that he did not care to dwell on
+it. When the tea-bell rang, she prepared herself at once to accompany
+him downstairs.
+
+It was Archibald's last evening at home, and all the family were
+gathered round the long tea-table. Since Mr. Drummond's misfortunes,
+late dinners had been relinquished, and more homely habits prevailed
+in the household. Mrs. Drummond had, indeed, apologized to her son
+more than once for the simplicity of their mode of life.
+
+"You are accustomed to a late dinner, Archie. I wish I could have
+managed it for you; but your father objects to any alteration being
+made in our usual habits."
+
+"He is quite right; and I should have been much distressed if you had
+thought such alteration necessary," returned her son, very much
+surprised at this reference to his father. For Mrs. Drummond rarely
+consulted her husband on such matters. In this case, however, she had
+done so, and Mr. Drummond had been unusually testy--indeed,
+affronted--at such a question being put to him.
+
+"I don't know what you mean, Isabella," he had replied; "but I suppose
+what is good enough for me is good enough for Archie." And then Mrs.
+Drummond knew she had made a mistake, for her husband had felt
+bitterly the loss of his late dinner. So Archie tried to fall in with
+the habits of his family, and to enjoy the large plum or seed-cake
+that invariably garnished the tea-table; and, though he ate but
+sparingly of the supper, which always gave him indigestion, Grace was
+his only confidante in the matter. Mr. Drummond, indeed, looked at his
+son rather sharply once or twice, as though he suspected him of
+fastidiousness. "I cannot compliment you on your appetite," he would
+say, as he helped himself to cold meat; "but perhaps our home fare is
+not so tempting as Oxford living?"
+
+"I always say your meat is unusually good," returned Archibald,
+amicably. "If there be any fault, it is in my appetite; but that
+Hadleigh air will soon set right." But, though he answered his father
+after this tolerant fashion, he always added, in a mental aside, that
+nine-o'clock suppers were certainly barbarous institutions, and
+peculiarly deleterious to the constitution of an Oxford fellow.
+
+Mrs. Drummond looked at them both somewhat keenly as they entered. In
+spite of her resolution, she was secretly uncomfortable at the thought
+that Archie was displeased with her: her daughter's vexation was a
+burden that could be more easily borne; but her maternal heart yearned
+for some token that her boy was not estranged from her. But no such
+consolation was to be vouchsafed to her. She had kept his usual place
+vacant beside her; Archie showed no intention of taking it. He placed
+himself by his father, and began talking to him of a change of
+ministry that was impending, and which would overthrow the
+Conservative party. Mrs. Drummond, who was one of those women who can
+never be made to take any interest in politics, was reduced to the
+necessity of talking to Mattie in an undertone, for the other boys
+never put in an appearance at this meal; but as she talked she took
+stock of Grace's pale, abstracted looks as she sat with her plate
+before her, not pretending to eat, and taking no notice of Susie and
+Laura, who chatted busily across her.
+
+It was not a festive meal; on the contrary, there was an unusual air
+of restraint over the whole party. The younger members felt
+instinctively that there was something amiss. Archie looked decidedly
+glum; and there was an expression on the mother's face that they were
+not slow to interpret. No one could hear what it was she was saying to
+Mattie that made her look so red and nervous all at once; but
+presently she addressed herself abruptly to her husband:
+
+"It is all settled, father. I have arranged with Archie that Matilda
+should go down to Hadleigh next month."
+
+Archie stroked his beard, but did not look up or make any remark,
+though poor Mattie looked at him beseechingly across the table, as
+though imploring a word. His mother would carry her point; but he
+would not pretend for a moment that he was otherwise than displeased,
+or that Mattie would be welcome.
+
+His silence attracted Mr. Drummond's attention.
+
+"Oh, what, you have settled it, you say? I hope you are satisfied,
+Archie, and properly grateful to your mother for sparing Mattie. She
+is to go for a year. Well, it will be a grand change for her. I should
+not be surprised if you were to pick up a husband, Miss Mattie;" for
+Mr. Drummond was a man who, in spite of his cares, was not without his
+joke; but, as usual, it was instantly frowned down by his wife:
+
+"I wonder at you, father, talking such nonsense before the children.
+Why are you giggling, Laura? It is very unseemly and ill-behaved. I
+hope no daughter of mine has such unmaidenly notions. Mattie is going
+to Hadleigh to be a comfort to her brother, and to keep his house as a
+clergyman's house ought to be kept."
+
+"And you are satisfied, Archie?" asked Mr. Drummond, not quite pleased
+at his wife's reprimand, and struck anew by his son's silence.
+
+"I consider these questions somewhat unnecessary. You know my wishes,
+sir, on the subject, and my mother also," was the somewhat
+uncompromising remark; "but it appears that they are not to be met in
+this instance. I hope Mattie will be comfortable and not miss her
+sisters;" but he did not look at the poor girl, and the tears came
+into her eyes.
+
+"Oh, Archie, I am so sorry! I never meant-----" she stammered; but her
+mother interrupted her:
+
+"There is no occasion for you to be sorry about anything; you had far
+better be silent, Mattie. But you have no tact. Father, if you have
+finished your tea, I suppose you and Archie are going out." And then
+Archie rose from the table, and followed his father out of the room.
+
+It was Isabel's business to put Dottie to bed. The other girls had to
+prepare their lessons for the next day, and went up to the
+school-room. Mattie made some excuse, and went with them, and Mrs.
+Drummond and Grace were left alone.
+
+Grace had some delicate work to finish, and she placed herself by the
+lamp. Her mother had returned to her mending-basket; but as the door
+closed upon Mattie, she cleared her throat, and looked at her
+daughter.
+
+"Grace, I must say I am surprised at you!"
+
+"Why, mother?" But Grace did not look up from the task she was running
+with such fine even stitches.
+
+"I am more than surprised!" continued Mrs. Drummond, severely. "I am
+disappointed to see in what a bad spirit you have received my
+decision. I did not think a daughter of mine would have been so blind
+to her sense of duty!"
+
+"I have said nothing to make you think that."
+
+"No, you have said nothing, but looks can be eloquent sometimes. I am
+not speaking of Archie, though I can see he is put out too, for he is
+a man, and men are not always reasonable; but that you should place
+yourself in such silent opposition to my wishes, it is that that
+shocks me."
+
+There was an ominous sparkle in Grace's gray eyes, and then she
+deliberately put down her work on the table. She had hoped that her
+mother would have been contented with her victory, and not have spoken
+to her on the subject. But if she were so attacked, she would at least
+defend herself.
+
+"You have no right to speak to me in this way, mother!"
+
+"No right, Grace?" Mrs. Drummond could hardly believe her ears. Never
+once had a daughter of hers questioned her right in anything.
+
+"No; for I have said nothing to bring all this upon me! I have been
+perfectly quiet, and have tried to bear the bitterness of my
+disappointment as well as I could. No one is answerable for their
+looks, and I, at least, will not plead guilty on that score."
+
+"Grace, you are answering me very improperly."
+
+"I cannot say that I think so, mother. I would have been silent, if
+you had permitted such silence; but when you drive me to speech, I
+must say what I feel to be the truth,--that I have not been well
+treated in this matter."
+
+"Grace!" And Mrs. Drummond paused in awful silence. Never before had a
+recusant daughter braved her to her face.
+
+"I have not been well treated," continued Grace, firmly, "in a thing
+that concerns me more than any one else. I have not even been
+consulted. You have arranged it all, mother, without reference to me
+or my feelings. Perhaps I ought to be grateful for being spared so
+painful a decision; but I think such a decision should have been
+permitted to me."
+
+"You can dare to tell me such things to my very face!"
+
+"Why should I not tell them?" returned Grace, meeting her mother's
+angry glance unflinchingly. "It seems to me that one should speak the
+truth to one's mother. You have treated me like a child; and I have a
+right to feel sore and indignant. Why did you not put the whole thing
+before me, and tell me that you and my father did not see how you
+could spare me? Do you really believe that I should have been so
+wanting to my sense of duty as to follow my own pleasure?"
+
+"Grace, I insist upon your silence! I will not discuss the matter with
+you."
+
+"If you insist upon silence, you must be obeyed, mother: but it is you
+who have raised the question between us. But when you attack me
+unjustly, I must defend myself."
+
+"You are forgetting yourself strangely. Your words are most
+disrespectful and unbecoming in a daughter. You tell me to my face
+that I am unjust--I, your mother--because I have been compelled to
+thwart your wishes."
+
+"No, no--not because of that!" returned Grace, in a voice of
+passionate pain; "why will you misunderstand me so?--but because you
+have no faith in me. You treat me like a child. You dispute my
+privilege to decide in a matter that concerns my own happiness. You
+bid me work for you, and you give me no wage--not a word of praise;
+and because I remonstrate for once in my life, you insist on my
+silence."
+
+"It seems that I am not to be obeyed."
+
+"Oh, yes; you will be obeyed, mother. After to-night I will not open
+my lips to offend you again. If I have said more than I ought to have
+said as a daughter, I will ask your pardon now; but I cannot take back
+one of my words. They are true,--true!"
+
+"I must say your apology is tardy, Grace."
+
+"Nevertheless, it is an apology; for, though you have hurt me, I must
+not forget you are my mother. I know my life will be harder after
+this, because of what I have said; and yet I would not take back one
+of my words!"
+
+"I am more displeased with you than I can say," returned her mother,
+taking up her neglected work; and her mouth looked stern and hard.
+
+Never had her aspect been so forbidding, and yet never had her
+daughter feared her less.
+
+"Then, if you are displeased with me, I will go away," replied Grace,
+moving from her seat with gentle dignity. "I wish you had not
+compelled me to speak, mother, and then I should not have offended
+you: but as it is there is no help for it." And then she gathered up
+her work and walked slowly out of the room.
+
+Mrs. Drummond sat moodily in the empty room that had somehow never
+seemed so empty before. Her attitude was as rigid and uncompromising
+as usual; but there was a perplexed frown on her brow. For the first
+time in her life one of her girls had dared to assert her own will and
+to speak the truth to her; and she was utterly nonplussed. It was not
+too much to say that she had received a blow. Her justice and sense of
+fairness had been questioned,--her very maternal authority
+impugned,--and that by one of her own children! Mattie, who was eight
+years older, would not have ventured to cross her mother's will.
+Grace had so dared; and she was bitterly angry with her. And yet she
+had never so admired her before.
+
+How honestly and bravely she had battled for her rights! her gray eyes
+had shone with fire, her pale cheeks had glowed with the passion of
+her words: for once in her life the girl had looked superbly
+handsome.
+
+"You have no faith in me; you treat me like a child." Well, she was
+right; it was no child, it was a proud woman who was flinging those
+hard words at her. For the first time Mrs. Drummond recognized the
+possibility of a will as strong as her own. In spite of all her
+authority, Grace had been a match for her mother: Mrs. Drummond knew
+this, and it added fuel to her bitterness.
+
+"I know my life will be harder for what I have said." Ah, Grace was
+right there; it would be long before her mother would forgive her for
+all those words, true as they were; and yet in her heart she had never
+so feared and admired her daughter. Grace went up to her own room,
+where Dottie was asleep in a little bed very near her sister's: it was
+dark and somewhat cold, but the atmosphere was less frigid than the
+parlor downstairs. Grace's frame was trembling with the force of her
+emotion; her face was burning, and her hands cold. It was restful and
+soothing to put down her aching head on the hard window-ledge and
+close her eyes and think out the pain! It seemed hours before Isabel
+came to summon her to supper, but she made an excuse that she was not
+hungry, and refused to go downstairs.
+
+"But you ate nothing at tea, and your head is aching!" persisted
+Isabel, who was a bright, good-natured girl, and, in spite of Archie's
+strictures, decidedly pretty. "Do let me bring you something. Mother
+will not know."
+
+But Grace refused: she could not eat, and the sight of food would
+distress her.
+
+"Why not go to bed at once, then?" suggested Isabel,--which was
+certainly sensible counsel. But Grace demurred to this; she knew
+Archie would be up presently to say good-night to her: so, when Isabel
+had gone, she lighted the candle, shading it carefully from Dottie's
+eyes, and then she bathed her hot face, and smoothed her hair, and
+took up her work again.
+
+Archie found her quite calm and busy, but he was not so easily
+deceived.
+
+"Now, Gracie, you have got one of your headaches: it is the
+disappointment and the bother, and my going away to-morrow. Poor
+little Gracie!"
+
+"Oh, Archie, I feel as though I shall never miss you so much!"
+exclaimed the poor girl, throwing down her work and clinging to him.
+"When shall I see your dear face again?--not until Christmas?"
+
+"And not then, I expect. I shall most likely run down some time in
+January, and then I shall try hard to take you back with me, just for
+a visit. Mattie will be dull, and wanting to see some of you, and I
+will not have one of the others until you have been."
+
+"I don't believe mother will spare me even for that," returned Grace,
+with a sudden conviction that her mother's memory was retentive, and
+that she would be punished in that way for her sins of this evening;
+"but promise me, Archie, that you will come, if it be only for a few
+days."
+
+"Oh, I will promise you that. I cannot last longer without seeing you,
+Grace!" And he stroked her soft hair as she still clung to him.
+
+The next day Archibald bade his family good-bye: his manner had not
+changed toward his mother, and Mrs. Drummond thought his kiss
+decidedly cold.
+
+"You will be good to Mattie, and try to make the poor girl happy; you
+will do at least as much as this," she said, detaining him as he was
+turning from her to see Grace.
+
+"Oh, yes, I will be good to her," he returned, indifferently, "but I
+cannot promise that she will not find her life dull." And then he took
+Grace in his arms, and whispered to her to be patient, and that all
+would be well one day; and Mrs. Drummond, though she did not hear the
+whisper, saw the embrace and the long lingering look between the
+brother and sister, and pressed her thin lips together and went back
+to her parlor and mending-basket, feeling herself an unhappy mother,
+whose love was not requited by her children, and disposed to be harder
+than ever towards Grace, who had inflicted this pain on her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+A VAN IN THE BRAIDWOOD ROAD.
+
+
+One bright July morning, Mattie Drummond walked rapidly up the
+Braidwood Road, and, unlatching the green door in the wall, let
+herself into the large square hall of the vicarage. This morning it
+looked invitingly cool, with its summer matting and big wicker-work
+chairs; but Mattie was in too great haste to linger; she only stopped
+to disencumber herself of the various parcels with which she was
+ladened, and then she knocked at the door of her brother's study, and,
+without waiting for the reluctant "Come in" that always answered her
+hasty rap, burst in upon him.
+
+It was now three months since Mattie had entered upon her new duties,
+and it must be confessed that Archie's housekeeper had rather a hard
+time of it. As far as actual management went, Mattie fully justified
+her mother's eulogiums in her household arrangements: she was orderly
+and methodical,--far more so than Grace would have been in her place;
+the meals were always punctual and well served, the domestic machinery
+worked well and smoothly. Archie never had to complain of a missing
+button or a frayed wrist-band. Nevertheless, Mattie's presence at the
+vicarage was felt by her brother as a sore burden. There was nothing
+in common between them, nothing that he cared to discuss with her, or
+on which he wished to know her opinion; he was naturally a frank,
+outspoken man, one that demanded sympathy from those belonging to him;
+but with Mattie he was reticent, and as far as possible restrained in
+speech.
+
+One reason for this might be that Mattie, with all her virtues,--and
+she was really a most estimable little person,--was sadly deficient in
+tact. She never knew when she was treading on other people's pet
+prejudices. She could not be made to understand that her presence was
+not always wanted, and that it was as well to keep silence sometimes.
+
+She would intrude her advice when it was not needed, in her
+good-natured way; she had always interfered with everything and
+everybody. "Meddlesome Mattie" they had called her at home.
+
+She was so wonderfully elastic, too, in her temperament, that nothing
+long depressed her. She took all her brother's snubbings in excellent
+part: if he scolded her at dinner-time, and made the ready tears come
+to her eyes,--for it was not the least of Mattie's sins that she cried
+easily and on every possible occasion,--she had forgotten it by
+tea-time, and would chatter to him as happily as ever.
+
+She was just one of those persevering people who seem bound to be
+snubbed; one cannot help it. It was as natural to scold Mattie as it
+was to praise other people; and yet it was impossible not to like the
+little woman, though she had no fine feelings, as Archie said, and was
+not thin-skinned. Grace always spoke a good word for her; she was very
+kind to Mattie in her way,--though it must be owned that she showed
+her small respect as an elder sister. None of her brothers and sisters
+respected Mattie in the least; they laughed at her, and took liberties
+with her, presuming largely on her good nature. "It is only Mattie;
+nobody cares what she thinks," as Clyde would often say. "Matt the
+Muddler," as Frederick named her.
+
+"I wonder what Mattie would say if any one ever fell in love with
+her?" Grace once observed in fun to Archie. "Do you know, I think she
+would be all her life, thanking her husband for the unexpected honor
+he had done her, and trying to prove to him that he had not made such
+a great mistake, after all."
+
+"Mattie's husband! He must be an odd sort of person, I should think."
+And then Archie laughed, in not the politest manner. Certainly Mattie
+was not appreciated by her family. She was not looking her best this
+morning when she went into her brother's study. She wore the
+offending plaid dress,--a particular large black-and-white check that
+he thought especially ugly. Her hat-trimmings were frayed, and the
+straw itself was burnt brown by the sun, and her hair was ill arranged
+and rough, for she never wasted much time on her own person, and, to
+crown the whole, she looked flushed and heated.
+
+Archie, who was sitting at his writing-table in severely-cut
+ecclesiastical garments, looking as trim and well-appointed a young
+clergyman as one might wish to see, might be forgiven for the tone of
+ill-suppressed irritation with which he said,--
+
+"Oh, Mattie! what a figure you look! I am positively ashamed that any
+one should see you. That hat is only fit to frighten the birds."
+
+"Oh, it will do very well for the mornings," returned Mattie,
+perfectly undisturbed at these compliments. "Nobody looks at me: so
+what does it matter?" But this remark, which she made in all
+simplicity, only irritated him more.
+
+"If you have no proper pride, you might at least consider my feelings.
+Do you think a man in my position likes his sister to go about like an
+old beggar-woman? You are enough to try any one's patience, Mattie;
+you are, indeed!"
+
+"Oh, never mind me and my things," returned Mattie coaxingly; "and
+don't go on writing just yet," for Archie had taken up his pen again
+with a great show of being busy. "I want to tell you something that I
+know will interest you. There are some new people come to the
+Friary."
+
+"What on earth do you mean?--what Friary? I am sure I never heard of
+such a place."
+
+"Dear me, Archie, how cross you are this morning!" observed Mattie, in
+a cheerful voice, as she fidgeted the papers on the table. "Why, the
+Friary is that shabby little cottage just above us,--not a stone's
+throw from this house."
+
+"Indeed? Well, I cannot say I am much interested in the movements of
+my neighbors. I am not a gossip like you, Mattie!"--another fling at
+poor Mattie. "I wish you would leave those papers alone. You know I
+never allow my things to be tidied, as you call it, and I am really
+very busy just now. I am in the middle of accounts, and I have to
+write to Grace and----"
+
+"Well, I thought you would like to know." And Mattie looked rather
+crestfallen and disappointed. "You talked so much about those young
+ladies some weeks ago, and seemed quite sorry not to see them again;
+and now----" but here Archie's indifference vanished, and he looked up
+eagerly.
+
+"What young ladies? Not those in Milner's Library, who asked about the
+dressmaker?"
+
+"The very same," returned his sister, delighted at this change of
+manner. "Oh, I have so much to tell you that I must sit down,"
+planting herself comfortably on the arm of an easy-chair near him.
+Another time Archie would have rebuked her for her unlady-like
+attitude, and told her, probably, that Grace never did such things;
+but now his interest was so excited that he let it pass for once. He
+even suffered her to take off her old hat and deposit it unreproved on
+the top of his cherished papers. "I was over at Crump's this morning,
+to speak to Bobbie about weeding the garden, when I was surprised to
+see a railway-van unloading furniture at the Friary."
+
+"What an absurd name!" _sotto voce_ from Archie: but he offered no
+further check to Mattie's gossip.
+
+"I asked Mrs. Crump, as a matter of course, the name of the new
+people; and she said it was Challoner. There was a mother and three
+daughters, she believed. She had seen two of them,--pretty,
+nice-spoken young creatures, and quite ladies. They had been down
+before to see the cottage and to have it done up. It looks quite a
+different place already,--nicely painted, and the shrubs trimmed. The
+door was open, and as I stood at Mrs. Crump's window, peeping between
+her geraniums, I saw such a respectable gray-haired woman, like an
+upper servant, carrying something into the house; and a moment after
+one of those young ladies we saw in the Library--not the pretty one,
+but the other--came to the door and spoke to the men."
+
+"Are you sure you did not make a mistake, Mattie?" asked her brother,
+incredulously. "You are very short-sighted: perhaps you did not see
+correctly. How can those stylish-looking girls live in such a shabby
+place? I can hardly believe it possible."
+
+"Oh, it was the same, I am positive about that. She was in the same
+cambric dress you admired. I could see distinctly. I watched her for a
+long time; and then the pretty one came out and joined her. She is
+pretty, Archie, she has such a lovely complexion."
+
+"But are they poor?--they don't look so. What on earth can it mean?"
+he asked, in a perplexed voice; but Mattie only shook her head, and
+went on:
+
+"We must find out all about them by and by. They are worth knowing, I
+am sure of that. Poor?--well, they cannot be rich, certainly, to live
+in the Friary; but they are gentle-people, one can see that in a
+moment."
+
+"Of course! who doubted it?" was the somewhat impatient answer.
+
+"Well, but that is not all," went on Mattie, too delighted with her
+brother's interest to try to curtail her story. "Of course I could not
+stand long watching them, so I did my errand and came away; and then I
+met Miss Middleton, and we walked down to the Library together to
+change those books. Miss Milner was talking to some ladies when we
+first went in and, as Miss Masham was not in the shop, we had to wait
+our turn, so I had a good look at them. The elder one was such a
+pretty, aristocratic-looking woman,--a little too languid, perhaps
+for my taste; and the younger one was a little like Isabel, only
+nicer-looking. I shouldn't have stared at them so much,--at least, I
+am afraid I stared," went on Mattie, forgetting for the moment how
+often she had been taken to task for this very thing,--"but something
+Miss Milner said attracted my attention, 'I am not to send it to the
+Friary, then, ma'am?' 'Well, no,' the lady returned, rather
+hesitatingly. She had such a nice voice and manner, Archie. 'My
+youngest daughter and I are at Beach House at present; I am rather an
+invalid, and the bustle would be too much for me. Dulce, we had better
+have these things sent to Beach House.' And then the young lady
+standing by her said, 'Oh, yes, mother; we shall want them this
+evening.' And then they went out."
+
+"There is a third sister, then?" observed Archie, not pretending to
+disguise his interest in Mattie's recital.
+
+"Yes, there is a third one: she is certainly a little like Isabel; she
+has a dimple like hers, and is of the same height. I asked Miss
+Milner, when they were out of hearing, if their name were Challoner,
+and if they were the new people who were coming to live at the empty
+cottage on the Braidwood Road. I thought she did not seem much
+disposed to give me information. Yes, their name was Challoner, and
+they had taken the Friary; but they were quite strangers in the town,
+and no one knew anything about them. And then Miss Middleton chimed
+in; she said her father had noticed the young ladies some weeks ago,
+and had called her attention to them. They were very pretty girls, and
+had quite taken his fancy; he had not forgotten them, and had spoken
+of them that very morning. She supposed Mrs. Challoner must be a
+widow, and not very well off: did Miss Milner know. Would you believe
+it, Archie? Miss Milner got quite red, and looked confused. You know
+how she enjoys a bit of gossip generally; but the questions seemed to
+trouble her. 'They were not at all well off, she knew that, but nicer
+young ladies she had never seen, or wished to see; and she hoped every
+one would be kind to them, and not forget they were real born ladies,
+in spite of----' And here the old thing got more confused than ever,
+and came to a full stop, and begged to know how she could serve us."
+
+"It is very strange,--very strange indeed," returned her brother, in a
+meditative voice; but, as Mattie had nothing more to tell him, he did
+not discuss the matter any further, only thanked her for her news, and
+civilly dismissed her on the plea that his business was at a
+stand-still.
+
+But he did not resume his accounts for sometime after he was left
+alone. Instead of doing so, he walked to the window and looked out in
+a singularly absent manner. Mattie's news was somewhat exciting. The
+idea of having such pleasant neighbors located within a stone's throw
+of the vicarage was in itself disturbing to the imagination of a young
+man of eight-and-twenty, even though a clergyman. And then, it must be
+confessed, Nan's charming face and figure had never been forgotten:
+he had looked out for the sisters many times since his chance
+encounter with Phillis, and had been secretly disappointed at their
+total disappearance. And now they proved not mere visitors, but
+positively inhabitants of Hadleigh. He would meet them every day; and,
+as there was but one church in the place, they would of course be
+numbered among his flock. As their future clergyman he would have a
+right of entrance to the cottage.
+
+"How soon do you think we ought to call upon them, Mattie?" he asked,
+when he was seated opposite to his sister at the luncheon-table. The
+accounts had not progressed very favorably, and the letter to Grace
+was not yet commenced. Mattie's news had been a sad interruption to
+his morning's work.
+
+"Whom do you mean, Archie," she returned, a little bewildered at this
+abrupt remark; and then, as he frowned at her denseness, she bethought
+herself of the new people. It was not often Archie asked her advice
+about anything, but on this occasion the young vicar felt himself
+incompetent to decide.
+
+"I suppose you mean the new folk at the Friary," she continued,
+carelessly. "Oh, they are only moving in to-day, and they will be in a
+muddle for a week, I should think. I don't think we can intrude for
+ten days or so."
+
+"Not if you think it will be intrusive," he returned, rather
+anxiously; "but they are strangers in the place, and all ladies--there
+does not seem to be a man belonging to them--would it not be
+neighborly, as we live so close, just to call, not in a formal way,
+you know, but just to volunteer help? There are little things you
+could do for them, Mattie; and, as a clergyman, they could not regard
+my visit as an intrusion, I should think. Do you not agree with me?"
+looking at his sister rather gravely.
+
+"Well, I don't know," replied Mattie, bluntly: "I should not care for
+strangers prying into my concerns, if I were in their place. And yet,
+as you say, we are such close neighbors, and one would like to be kind
+to the poor things, for they must be lonely, settling in a strange new
+place. I'll tell you what, Archie," as his face fell at this
+matter-of-fact speech: "it is Thursday, and they will be sure to be at
+church on Sunday; we shall see them there, and that will be an excuse
+for us to call on Monday. We can say then that we are neighbors, and
+that we would not wait until they were all in order. We can offer to
+send them things from the vicarage, or volunteer help in many little
+ways. I think that would be best."
+
+"Yes, perhaps you are right, and we will wait until Monday," returned
+Archie, taking off his soft felt hat. "Now I must go on my rounds, and
+not waste any more time chattering." But, though he spoke with unusual
+good nature, he did not invite Mattie to be his companion, and the
+poor little woman betook herself to the solitary drawing-room and some
+plain sewing for the rest of the afternoon.
+
+The young clergyman stood for a moment irresolutely at the green door,
+and cast a longing glance in the direction of the Friary, where the
+van was still unloading, and then he bethought himself that, though
+Mattie had given orders about the weeding of the garden-paths, it
+would be as well to speak to Crump about the wire fence that was
+wanted for the poultry-yard; and as soon as he had made up his mind on
+this point he walked on briskly.
+
+The last piece of furniture had just been carried in; but, as Mr.
+Drummond was picking his way through the straw and debris that
+littered the side-path, two girlish figures came out of the doorway
+full upon him.
+
+He raised his hat involuntarily, but they drew back at once, and, as
+he went out, confused at this sudden rencontre, the sound of a light
+laugh greeted his ear.
+
+"How annoying that we should always be meeting him!" observed Nan,
+innocently. "Don't laugh, Phillis: he will hear you."
+
+"My dear, it must be fate," returned Phillis solemnly. "I shall think
+it my duty to warn Dick if this goes on." But, in spite of her
+mischievous speech, she darted a quick, interested look after the
+handsome young clergyman as he walked on. Both the girls stood in the
+porch for some minutes after they had made their retreat. They had
+come out to cool themselves and to get a breath of air, until a July
+sun and Mr. Drummond's sudden appearance defeated their intention.
+They had no idea that they were watched from behind the screening
+geraniums in Mrs. Crump's window. Both of them were enveloped in
+Dorothy's bib-aprons, which hid their pretty rounded figures.
+Phillis's cheeks were flushed, and her arms were bare to the dimpled
+elbows; and Nan's brown hair was slightly dishevelled.
+
+"We look just like cooks!" exclaimed Phillis, regarding her coarse
+apron with disfavor; but Nan stretched her arms with a little
+indifference and weariness.
+
+"What does it matter how we look,--like cooks or housemaids? I am
+dreadfully tired; but we must go in and work, Phil. I wonder what has
+become of Dulce?" And then the charming vision disappeared from the
+young clergyman's eyes, and he was free to fix his mind on the wire
+fence that was required for the poultry-yard.
+
+As soon as he had accomplished his errand he set his face towards the
+vicarage, for he made up his mind suddenly that he would call on the
+Middletons, and perhaps on Mrs. Cheyne. The latter was a duty that he
+owed to his pastoral conscience; but there was no need for him to go
+to the Middletons'. Nevertheless, the father and daughter were his
+most intimate friends, and on all occasions he was sure of Miss
+Middleton's sympathy. They lived at Brooklyn,--a low white house a
+little below the vicarage. It was a charming house, he always thought,
+so well arranged and well managed; and the garden--that was the
+colonel's special hobby--was as pretty as a garden could be. The
+drawing-room looked shady and comfortable, for the French windows
+opened into a cool veranda, fitted up with flower-baskets and wicker
+chairs; and beyond lay the trim lawn, with beds of blazing verbenas
+and calceolarias. Miss Middleton's work-table was just within one of
+the windows; but the colonel, in his gray summer suit, reclined in a
+lounging-chair in the veranda. He was reading the paper to his
+daughter, and was just in the middle of last night's debate;
+nevertheless, he threw it aside, well pleased at the interruption.
+
+"I knew how I should find you occupied," observed Mr. Drummond, as he
+exchanged a smile with Miss Middleton. He was fully aware that
+politics were not to her taste, and yet every afternoon she listened
+to such reading, well content even with the sound of her father's
+voice.
+
+Elizabeth Middleton was certainly a charming person. Phillis had
+called her the "gray-haired girl," and the title suited her. She was
+not a girl by any means, having reached her six-and-thirtieth year;
+but her hair was as silvery as an old woman's, gray and plentiful, and
+soft as silk, and contrasted strangely with her still youthful face.
+
+Without being handsome, Elizabeth Middleton was beautiful. Her
+expression was sweet and restful, and attracted all hearts. People who
+were acquainted with her said she was the happiest creature they
+knew,--that she simply diffused sunshine by her mere presence; such a
+contrast, they would add, to her neighbor Mrs. Cheyne, who bore all
+her troubles badly and was of a proud, fretful disposition. But then
+Mrs. Cheyne had lost her husband and her two children, and led such a
+sad, lonely life; and no such troubles had fallen to Miss Middleton.
+
+Elizabeth Middleton could afford to be happy, they said, for she was
+the delight of her father's eyes. Her young half-brother, Hammond, who
+was with his regiment in India, was not nearly so dear to the old man;
+and of course that was why she had never married, that her father's
+house might not be left desolate.
+
+This is how people talked; but not a single person in Hadleigh knew
+that Elizabeth Middleton had had a great sorrow in her life.
+
+She had been engaged for some years most happily, and with her
+father's consent, to one of his brother officers. Captain Sedgwick was
+of good family, but poor; and they were waiting for his promotion, for
+at that time Colonel Middleton would have been unable to give his
+daughter any dowry. Elizabeth was young and happy, and she could
+afford to wait. No girl ever gloried in her lover more than she did in
+hers. Capel Sedgwick was not only brave and singularly handsome, but
+he bore a reputation through the whole regiment for having a higher
+standard of duty than most men.
+
+Promotion came at last, and, just as Elizabeth was gayly making
+preparations for her marriage, fatal tidings were brought to her.
+Major Sedgwick had gone to visit an old servant in the hospital who
+had been struck down with cholera; he had remained with him some time,
+and on his return to his bungalow the same fell disease had attacked
+him, and before many hours were over he was dead. The shock was a
+terrible one; in the first moments of her bitter loss, Elizabeth cried
+out that her misery was too great,--that all happiness was over for
+her in this world, and that she only prayed that she might be buried
+in the same grave with Capel.
+
+The light had not yet come to the poor soul that felt itself afflicted
+past endurance and could find no reason for such pain. It could not be
+said that Elizabeth bore her trouble better than other girls would
+have borne theirs under like circumstances. She fretted and grew thin,
+and dashed herself wildly against the inevitable, only reproaching
+herself for her selfishness and want of submission when she looked at
+her father's care-worn face.
+
+But then came a time when light and peace revisited the wrecked
+heart,--when confused reasonings no longer beset the poor weak brain
+and filled it with dismay and doubt,--when the Divine will became her
+will, and there was no longer submission, but a most joyful surrender.
+And no one, and least of all she herself, knew when the darkness was
+vanquished by that clear uprising of pure radiance, or how those
+brooding wings of peace settled on her soul. From that time, every
+human being that came within her radius was welcome as a new object of
+love. To give and yet to give, and never to be satisfied, was a daily
+necessity of life to Elizabeth. "Now there is some one more to love,"
+she would say to herself, when a new acquaintance was brought to her;
+and, as the old adage is true that tells us love begets love, there
+was no more popular person in Hadleigh than Elizabeth Middleton. She
+had something to say in praise of every one; not that she was blind to
+the faults of her neighbors, but she preferred to be silent and ignore
+them.
+
+And she was especially kind to Mattie. In the early days of their
+intimacy, the young vicar would often speak to her of his sister Grace
+and lament their enforced separation from each other. Miss Middleton
+listened sympathetically, with the same sweet attention that she gave
+to every man, woman, and child that laid claim to it; but once, when
+he had finished, she said, rather gravely,--
+
+"Do you know, Mr. Drummond, that I think your mother was right?"
+
+"Right in dooming Grace to such a life?" he said, pausing in utter
+surprise at her remark.
+
+"Pardon me; it is not her mother who dooms her," returned Miss
+Middleton, quickly, "but duty,--her own sense of right,--everything
+that is sacred. If Mrs. Drummond had not decided that she could not be
+spared, I am convinced from all you tell me, that Grace would still
+have remained at home: her conscience would have been too strong for
+her."
+
+"Well, perhaps you are right," he admitted, reluctantly. "Grace is a
+noble creature, and capable of any amount of self-sacrifice."
+
+"I am sure of it," returned Miss Middleton, with sparkling eyes. "How
+I should like to know her! it would be a real pleasure and privilege;
+but I am very fond of your sister Mattie, too."
+
+"Fond of Mattie!" It was hardly brotherly, but he could not help that
+incredulous tone in his voice. How could such a superior woman as Miss
+Middleton be even tolerant of Mattie?
+
+"Oh, yes," she replied, quite calmly; "I have a great respect for your
+sister. She is so unselfish and amiable, and there is something so
+genuine in her. Before everything one wants truth," finished
+Elizabeth, taking up her work.
+
+Now, as the young clergyman entered the room, she stretched out her
+hand to him with her usual beaming smile.
+
+"This is good of you, to come so soon again," she said, making room
+for him between her father and herself. "But why have you not brought
+Mattie?" and Archie felt as though he had received a rebuke.
+
+"She is finishing some work," he returned, a little confused; "that
+is, what you ladies call work. It is not always necessary for the
+clergywoman to pay visits, is it?"
+
+"The clergywoman, as you call her, is doing too much. I was scolding
+her this morning for not sparing herself more: I thought she was not
+looking quite well, Mr. Drummond."
+
+"Oh, Mattie is well enough," he replied, carelessly. He had not come
+to talk about his sister: a far more interesting subject was in his
+mind. "Do you know, colonel," he went on, with some animation, "that
+you and I have new neighbors? Do you remember the young ladies in the
+blue cambric dresses?" And at this question the colonel threw aside
+his paper at once.
+
+"Elizabeth has been telling me. I remember the young ladies perfectly.
+I could not help noticing them. They walked so well,--heads up, and as
+neat and trim as though they were on parade; pretty creatures, both of
+them. Elizabeth pretends not to be interested, but she is quite
+excited. Look at her!"
+
+"Nay, father, it is you who can talk of nothing else; but it will be
+very nice to have such pleasant neighbors. How soon do you think we
+may call on them?"
+
+And then Archie explained, with some little embarrassment, that he and
+Mattie thought of calling the following Monday and offering their
+services.
+
+"That is very thoughtful of Mattie. She is such a kind-hearted little
+creature, and is always ready to serve everybody."
+
+And then they entered into a discussion on the new-comers that lasted
+so long that the tea-things made their appearance; and shortly
+afterwards Mr. Drummond announced that he must go and call on Mrs.
+Cheyne.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+A VISIT TO THE WHITE HOUSE.
+
+
+Hitherto Mr. Drummond had acknowledged his afternoon to be a success.
+He had obtained a glimpse of the new-comers through Mrs. Crump's
+screen of geraniums, and had listened with much interest to Colonel
+Middleton's innocent gossip, while Miss Middleton had poured out their
+tea. Indeed, his attention had quite flattered his host.
+
+"Really, Drummond is a very intelligent fellow," he observed to his
+daughter, when they were at last left alone,--"a very intelligent
+fellow, and so thoroughly gentlemanly."
+
+"Yes, he is very nice," returned Elizabeth; "and he seems wonderfully
+interested in our new neighbors." And here she smiled a little
+archly.
+
+There was no doubt that Mr. Drummond had fully enjoyed his visit.
+Nevertheless, as he left Brooklyn, and set his face towards the White
+House, his manner changed, and his face became somewhat grave.
+
+He had told himself that he owed it to his pastoral conscience to call
+on Mrs. Cheyne; but, notwithstanding this monition, he disliked the
+duty, for he always felt on these occasions that he was hardly up to
+his office, and that this solitary member of his flock was not
+disposed to yield herself to his guidance. He was ready to pity her if
+she would allow herself to be pitied; but any expression of sympathy
+seemed repugnant to her. Any one so utterly lonely, so absolutely
+without interest in existence, he had never seen or thought to see;
+and yet he could not bring himself to like her, or to say more than
+the mere commonplace utterances of society. Though he was her
+clergyman, and bound by the sacredness of his office to be specially
+tender to the bruised and maimed ones of his flock, he could not get
+her to acknowledge her maimed condition to him, or to do anything but
+listen to him with cold attention, when he hinted vaguely that all
+human beings are in need of sympathy. Perhaps she thought him too
+young, and feared to find his judgments immature and one-sided; but
+certainly his visits to the White House were failures. Mrs. Cheyne was
+still young enough and handsome enough to need some sort of
+chaperonage: and though she professed to mock at conventionality, she
+acknowledged its claims in this respect by securing the permanent
+services of Miss Mewlstone--a lady of uncertain age and uncertain
+acquirements. It must be confessed that every one wondered at Mrs.
+Cheyne and her choice, for no one could be less companionable than
+Miss Mewlstone.
+
+She was a stout, sleepy-looking woman, with a soft voice, and in
+placidity and a certain cosyness of exterior somewhat resembled a
+large white cat. Some people declared she absolutely purred, and
+certainly her small blue eyes were ready to close on all occasions.
+She always dressed in gray,--a very unbecoming color to a stout
+person,--and when not asleep or reading (for she was a great reader)
+she seemed always busy with a mass of soft fleecy wool. No one heard
+her ever voluntarily conversing with her patroness. They would drive
+together for hours, or pass whole evenings in the same room, scarcely
+exchanging a word. "Just so, my dear," she would say, in return to any
+observation made to her by Mrs. Cheyne. "Just so Mewlstone," a young
+wag once nicknamed her.
+
+People stared incredulously when Mrs. Cheyne assured them her
+companion was a very superior woman. They thought it was only her
+satire, and did not believe her in the least. They would have stared
+still more if they had really known the extent of Miss Mewlstone's
+acquirements.
+
+"She seems so stupid, as though she cannot talk," one of Mrs. Cheyne's
+friends said.
+
+"Oh, yes, she can talk, and very well too," returned that lady,
+quietly, "but she knows that I do not care about it; her silence is
+her great virtue in my eyes. And then she has tact, and knows when to
+keep out of the way," finished Mrs. Cheyne, with the utmost frankness;
+and, indeed, it may be doubted whether any other person would have
+retained her position so long at the White House.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne was no favorite with the young pastor, nevertheless she
+was an exceedingly handsome woman. Before the bloom of her youth had
+worn off she had been considered absolutely beautiful. As regarded the
+form of her features, there was no fault to be found, but her
+expression was hardly pleasing. There was a hardness that people found
+a little repelling,--a bitter, dissatisfied droop of the lip, a
+weariness of gloom in the dark eyes, and a tendency to satire in her
+speech, that alienated people's sympathy.
+
+"I am unhappy, but pity me if you dare!" seemed to be written legibly
+upon her countenance; and those who knew her best held their peace in
+her presence, and then went away and spoke softly to each other of the
+life that seemed wasted and the heart that was so hardened with its
+trouble. "What would the world be if every one were to bear their
+sorrows so badly?" they would say. "There is something heathenish in
+such utter want of resignation. Oh, yes, it was very sad, her losing
+her husband and children, but it all happened four or five years ago;
+and you know"--And here people's voices dropped a little ominously,
+for there were vague hints afloat that things had not always gone on
+smoothly at the White House, even when Mrs. Cheyne had her husband.
+She had been an only child, and had married the only survivor of a
+large family. Both were handsome, self-willed young people; neither
+had been used to contradiction. In spite of their love for each other,
+there had been a strife of wills and misunderstandings from the
+earliest days of their marriage. Neither knew what giving up meant,
+and before many months were over the White House witnessed many
+painful scenes. Herbert Cheyne was passionate, and at times almost
+violent; but there was no malice in his nature. He stormed furiously
+and forgave easily. A little forbearance would have turned him into a
+sweet-natured man; but his wife's haughtiness and resentment lasted
+long; she never acknowledged herself in the wrong, never made
+overtures of peace, but bore herself on every occasion as a
+sorely-injured wife, a state of things singularly provoking to a man
+of Herbert Cheyne's irritable temperament.
+
+There was injudicious partisanship as regarded their children: while
+Mrs. Cheyne idolized her boy, her husband lavished most of his
+attentions on the baby girl,--"papa's girl," as she always called
+herself in opposition to "mother's boy."
+
+Mrs. Cheyne really believed she loved her boy best, but when
+diphtheria carried off her little Jane also, she was utterly
+inconsolable. Her husband was far away when it happened: he had been a
+great traveller before his marriage, and latterly his matrimonial
+relations with his wife had been so unsatisfactory that virtual
+separation had ensued. Two or three months before illness, and then
+death, had devastated the nursery at the White House, he had set out
+for a long exploring expedition in Central Africa.
+
+"You make my life so unbearable that, but for the children, I would
+never care to set foot in my home again," he had said to her, in one
+of his violent moods; and, though he repented of this speech
+afterwards, she could not be brought to believe that he had not meant
+it, and her heart had been hard against him even in their parting.
+
+But before many months were over she would have given all she
+possessed--to her very life--to have recalled him to her side. She was
+childless, and her health was broken; but no such recall was possible.
+Vague rumors reached her of some miserable disaster: people talked of
+a missing Englishman. One of the little party had already succumbed to
+fever and hardship; by and by another followed; and the last news that
+reached them was that Herbert Cheyne lay at the point of death in the
+kraal of a friendly tribe. Since then the silence had been of the
+grave: not one of the party had survived to bring the news of his last
+moments: there had been illness and disaster from the first.
+
+When Mrs. Cheyne recovered from the nervous disorder that had
+attacked her on the receipt of this news, she put on widow's mourning,
+and wore it for two years; then she sent for Miss Mewlstone, and set
+herself to go through with the burden of her life. If she found it
+heavy, she never complained: she was silent on her own as on other
+people's troubles. Only at the sight of a child of two or three years
+of age she would turn pale, and draw down her veil, and if it ran up
+to her, as would sometimes happen, she would put it away from her
+angrily, pushing it away almost with violence, and no child was ever
+suffered to cross her threshold.
+
+The drawing-room at the White House was a spacious apartment, with
+four long windows opening on the lawn. Mrs. Cheyne was sitting in her
+low chair, reading, with Miss Mewlstone at the farther end of the
+room, with her knitting-basket beside her; two or three grayhounds
+were grouped near her. They all rushed forward with furious barks as
+Mr. Drummond was announced, and then leaped joyously round him. Mrs.
+Cheyne put down her book, and greeted him with a frosty smile.
+
+She had laid aside her widow's weeds, but still dressed in black, the
+sombreness of her apparel harmonizing perfectly with her pale, creamy
+complexion. Her dress was always rich in material, and most carefully
+adjusted. In her younger days it had been an art with her,--almost a
+passion,--and it had grown into a matter of custom.
+
+"You are very good to come again so soon, Mr. Drummond," she said, as
+she gave him her hand. The words were civil, but a slight inflection
+on the word "soon" made Mr. Drummond feel a little uncomfortable. Did
+she think he called too often? He wished he had brought Mattie; only
+last time she had been so satirical, and had quizzed the poor little
+thing unmercifully; not that Mattie had found out that she was being
+quizzed.
+
+"I hardly thought I should find you at home, it is so fine an
+afternoon; but I made the attempt, you see," he continued, a little
+awkwardly.
+
+"Your parochial conscience was uneasy, I suppose, because I was
+missing at church?" she returned, somewhat slyly. "You would make a
+capital overseer, Mr. Drummond,"--with a short laugh. "A headache is a
+good excuse, is it not? I had a headache, had I not, Miss Mewlstone?"
+
+"Yes, my dear, just so," returned Miss Mewlstone. She always called
+her patroness "my dear."
+
+"Miss Mewlstone gave me the heads of the sermon, so it was not quite
+labor lost, as regards one of your flock. I am afraid you think me a
+black sheep because I stay away so often,--a very black sheep, eh, Mr.
+Drummond?"
+
+"It is not for me to judge," he said, still more awkwardly. "Headaches
+are very fair excuses; and if one be not blessed with good
+health----"
+
+"My health is perfect," she returned, interrupting him ruthlessly. "I
+have no such convenient plea under which to shelter myself. Miss
+Mewlstone suffers far more from headaches than I do. Don't you, Miss
+Mewlstone?"
+
+"Just so; yes, indeed, my dear," proceeded softly from the other end
+of the room.
+
+"I am sorry to hear it," commenced Mr. Drummond, in a sympathizing
+tone of voice. But his tormentor again interrupted him.
+
+"I am a sad backslider, am I not? I wonder if you have a sermon ready
+for me? Do you lecture your parishioners, Mr. Drummond, rich as well
+as poor? What a pity it is you are so young! Lectures are more
+suitable with gray hair; a hoary head might have some chance against
+my satire. A woman's tongue is a difficult thing to keep in order, is
+it not? I dare say you find that with Miss Mattie?"
+
+Mr. Drummond was literally on thorns. He had no repartee ready. She
+was secretly exasperating him as usual, making his youth a reproach,
+and rendering it impossible for him to be his natural frank self with
+her. In her presence he was always at a disadvantage. She seemed to
+take stock of his learning and to mock at the idea of his pastoral
+claims. It was not the first time she had called herself a black
+sheep, or had spoken of her scanty attendances at church. But as yet
+he had not dared to rebuke her; he had a feeling that she might fling
+back his rebuke with a jest, and his dignity forbade this. Some day he
+owed it to his conscience to speak a word to her,--to tell her of the
+evil effects of such an example; but the convenient season had not yet
+arrived.
+
+He was casting about in his own mind for some weighty sentence with
+which to answer her; but she again broke in upon his silence:
+
+"It seems that I am to escape to-day. I hope you are not a lax
+disciplinarian; that comes of being young. Youth is more tolerant,
+they say, of other people's errors: it has its own glass houses to
+mind."
+
+"You are too clever for me, Mrs. Cheyne," returned the young man, with
+a deprecating smile that might have disarmed her. "No, I have not come
+to lecture: my mission is perfectly peaceful, as befits this lovely
+afternoon. I wonder what you ladies find to do all day?" he continued,
+abruptly changing the subject, and trying to find something that would
+not attract her satire.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne seemed a little taken aback by this direct question; and
+then she drew up her beautiful head a little haughtily, and laughed.
+
+"Ah, you are cunning, Mr. Drummond. You found me disposed to take the
+offensive in the matter of church-going, and now you are on another
+track. There is a lecture somewhere in the background. How doth the
+little busy bee, etc. Now, don't frown,"--as Mr. Drummond knitted his
+brows and really looked annoyed: "I will not refuse to be
+catechised."
+
+"I should not presume to catechise you," he returned, hastily. "I
+appeal to Miss Mewlstone if my question were not a very innocent
+one."
+
+"Just so; just so," replied Miss Mewlstone; but she looked a little
+alarmed at this appeal. "Oh, very innocent; oh, very so."
+
+"With two against me I must yield," returned Mrs. Cheyne, with a curl
+of her lip. "What do we do with our time, Miss Mewlstone? Your
+occupation speaks for itself: it is exquisitely feminine. Don't tell
+Miss Mattie, Mr. Drummond, but I never work. I would as soon arm
+myself with a dagger as a needle or a pair of scissors. When I am not
+in the air, I paint. I only lay aside my palette for a book."
+
+"You paint!" exclaimed Archie, with sudden interest. It was the first
+piece of information he had yet gleaned.
+
+"Yes," she returned, indifferently: "one must do something to kill
+time, and music was never my forte. I sketch and draw and paint after
+my own sweet will. There are portfolios full of my sketches in
+there,"--with a movement of her hand towards a curtained recess. "No,
+I know what you are going to say: you will ask to see them; but I
+never show them to any one."
+
+"For what purpose, then, do you paint them?" were the words on his
+lips; but he forbore to utter them. But she read the question in his
+eyes.
+
+"Did I not say one must kill time?" she returned, rather irritably:
+"the occupation is soothing: surely that is reason enough."
+
+"It is a good enough reason, I suppose," he replied, reluctantly, for
+surely he must say a word here; "but one need not talk about killing
+time, with so much that one could do."
+
+Then there came a gleam of suppressed mischief in her eyes:
+
+"Yes, I know: you may spare me that. I will listen to it all next
+Sunday, if you will, when you have it your own way, and one cannot sin
+against decorum and answer you. Yes, yes, there is so much to do, is
+there not?--hungry people to be fed, and sick to visit,--all sorts of
+disagreeables that people call duties. Ah, I am a sad sinner! I only
+draw for my own amusement, and leave the poor old world to get on
+without me. What a burden I must be on your conscience, Mr.
+Drummond,--heavier than all the rest of your parish. What, are you
+going already? and Miss Mewlstone has never given you any tea."
+
+Then Archie explained, very shortly, that he had partaken of that
+beverage at Brooklyn, and his leave-taking was rather more formal than
+usual. He was very much surprised, as he stood at the hall door, that
+always stood open in the summer, to hear the low sweep of a dress over
+the tessellated pavement behind him, and to see a white pudgy hand
+laid on his coat-sleeve.
+
+"My dear Miss Mewlstone, how you startled me!"
+
+"Just so; yes, I am afraid I did, Mr. Drummond; but I just wanted to
+say, never mind all that nonsense; come again: she likes to see you;
+she does, indeed. It is only her way to talk so; she means no harm,
+poor dear,--oh, none at all!"
+
+"Excuse me," returned Archie, in a hurt voice, "but I think you are
+mistaken. Mrs. Cheyne does not care for my visits, and shows me she
+does not: if it were not my duty, I should not come so often."
+
+"No, no; just so, but all the same it rouses her and does her good. It
+is a bad day with her, poor dear!--the very day the darlings were
+taken ill, four years ago. Now, don't go away and fancy things, don't,
+there's a dear young man; come as often as you can, and try and do her
+good."
+
+"Oh, if I only knew how that is to be done!" returned Archie, slowly;
+but he was mollified in spite of himself. There were tears in Miss
+Mewlstone's little blue eyes: perhaps she was a good creature after
+all.
+
+"I will come again, but not just yet," he said, nodding to her
+good-humoredly; but as he walked down the road he told himself that
+Mrs. Cheyne had never before made herself so disagreeable, and that it
+would be long before he set foot in the White House again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+"A FRIEND IN NEED."
+
+
+Human nature is weak, and we are told there are mixed motives to be
+found even in the holiest actions. Mr. Drummond never could be brought
+to acknowledge even to himself the reason why he took so much pains to
+compose his sermon for that Sunday. Without possessing any special
+claim to eloquence, he had always been earnest and painstaking,
+bestowing much labor on the construction and finish of his sentences,
+which were in consequence more elaborate than original. At times, when
+he took less pains and was simpler in style, he seldom failed to
+satisfy his hearers. His voice was pleasant and well modulated, and
+his delivery remarkably quiet and free from any tricks of gestures.
+
+But on this occasion his subject baffled him; he wrote and rewrote
+whole pages, and then grew discontented with his work. On the Sunday
+in question he woke with the conviction that something out of the
+common order of events distinguished the day from other days; but even
+as this thought crossed his mind he felt ashamed of himself, and was
+in consequence a little more dictatorial than usual at the
+breakfast-table.
+
+The inhabitants of Hadleigh were well accustomed to the presence of
+strangers in their church. In the season there was a regular influx
+of visitors that filled the lodging-houses to overflowing. Hadleigh
+had always prided itself on its gentility, as a watering-place it was
+select and exclusive; only the upper middle classes, and a sprinkling
+of the aristocracy, were the habitual frequenters of the little town.
+It was too quiet; it offered too few attractions to draw the crowds
+that flocked to other places. Mr. Drummond's congregation was well
+used by this time to see new faces in the strangers' pew;
+nevertheless, a little thrill of something like surprise and
+excitement moved a few of the younger members as Nan and her sisters
+walked down the aisle, with their mother following them.
+
+"The mother is almost as good-looking as her daughters," thought
+Colonel Middleton, as he regarded the group through his gold-mounted
+eye-glasses, and Miss Middleton looked up for an instant from her
+prayer-book. Even Mrs. Cheyne roused from the gloomy abstraction which
+was her usual approach to devotion, and looked long and curiously at
+the three girlish faces before her. It was refreshing even to her to
+see anything so fresh and bright-looking.
+
+Nan and her sisters were perfectly oblivious of the sensation they
+were making. Nan's pretty face was a trifle clouded: the strange
+surroundings, the sight of all those people unknown to them, instead
+of the dear, familiar faces that had always been before her, gave the
+girl a dreary feeling of oppression and dismay. Her voice quavered
+audibly as she sang, and one or two drops fell on her prayer-book as
+she essayed to join in the petitions.
+
+"Why is there not a special clause in the Litany for those who are
+perplexed and in poverty? It is not only from murder and sudden death
+one need pray to be delivered," thought Nan, with much sinking of
+heart. "Oh, how helpless they were,--so young, and only girls, with a
+great unknown world before them, and Dick away, ignorant of their
+worst troubles, and too youthful a knight to win his spurs and pledge
+himself to their service!"
+
+Nan's sweet downcast face drew many eyes in the direction of the great
+square pew in which they sat. Phillis intercepted some of these looks,
+as her attention insensibly wandered during the service. It was wrong,
+terribly wrong of course, but her thoughts would not concentrate
+themselves on the lesson the young vicar was reading in his best
+style. She was not heavy-hearted like Nan; on the contrary, little
+thrills of excitement, of impatience, of repressed amusement, pervaded
+her mind, as she looked at the strange faces round her "They would not
+be long strange," she thought: "some of them would be her neighbors.
+What would they say, all these people, when they knew----" And here
+Phillis held her breath a moment. People were wondering even now who
+they were. They had dressed themselves that morning, rehearsing their
+parts, as it were, with studied simplicity. The gown Nan wore was as
+inexpensive as a gown could be; her hat was a model of neatness and
+propriety: nevertheless, Phillis groaned in spirit as she glanced at
+her. Where had she got that style? She looked like a young princess
+who was playing at Arcadia. Would people ever dare to ask her to work
+for them? Would they not beg her pardon, and cry shame on themselves
+for entertaining such a thought for a moment? Phillis almost envied
+Nan, who was shedding salt tears on her prayer-book. She thought she
+was absorbed in her devotions, while her own thoughts would wander so
+sadly; and then a handsome face in the opposite pew attracted her
+attention. Surely that must be Mrs. Cheyne, who lived in the White
+House near them, of whom Nan had talked,--the poor woman who had lost
+husband and children and who lived in solitary state. The sermon had
+now commenced, but Phillis turned a deaf ear to the sentences over
+which Mr. Drummond had expended so much labor: her attention was
+riveted by the gloomy beautiful face before her, which alternately
+attracted and repelled her.
+
+As though disturbed by some magnetic influence, Mrs. Cheyne raised her
+eyes slowly and looked at Phillis. Something in the girl's keen-eyed
+glance seemed to move her strangely. The color crept into her pale
+face, and her lip quivered: a moment afterwards she drew down her veil
+and leaned back in her seat and Phillis, somewhat abashed, endeavored
+fruitlessly to gather up the thread of the sermon.
+
+"There! it is over! We have made our _debut_," she said, a little
+recklessly, as they walked back to Beach House, where Mrs. Challoner
+and Dulce were still staying. And as Nan looked at her, a little
+shocked and mystified by this unusual flippancy, she continued in the
+same excited way:
+
+"Was it not strange Mr. Drummond choosing that text, 'Consider the
+lilies'? He looked at us; I am sure he did, mother. It was quite a
+tirade against dress and vanity; but I am sure no one could find fault
+with us."
+
+"It was a very good sermon, and I think he seems a very clever young
+man," returned Mrs. Challoner, with a sigh, for the service had been a
+long weariness for her. She had not been unmindful of the attention
+her girls had caused; but if people only knew--And here the poor lady
+had clasped her hands and put up petitions that were certainly not in
+the Litany.
+
+Phillis seemed about to say something, but she checked herself, and
+they were all a little silent until they reached the house. This first
+Sunday was an infliction to them all: it was a day of enforced
+idleness. There was too much time for thought and room for regret. In
+spite of all Phillis's efforts,--and she rattled on cheerily most of
+the afternoon,--Mrs. Challoner got one of her bad headaches, from
+worry, and withdrew to her room, attended by Dulce, who volunteered to
+bathe her head and read her to sleep.
+
+The church-bells were just ringing for the evening service, and Nan
+rose, as usual, to put on her hat; but Phillis stopped her:
+
+"Oh, Nan, do not let us go to church again this evening. I am terribly
+wicked to-day, I know, but somehow I cannot keep my thoughts in order.
+So what is the use of making the attempt? Let us take out our
+prayer-books and sit on the beach: it is low tide, and a walk over the
+sands would do us good after our dreadful week."
+
+"If you are sure it would not be wrong," hesitated Nan, whose
+conscience was a little hard to convince in such matters.
+
+"No, no. And the run will do Laddie good. The poor little fellow has
+been shut up in this room all day. We need not tell the mother. She
+would be shocked, you know. But we never have stayed away from church
+before, have we? And, to tell you the truth," continued Phillis, with
+an unsteady laugh that betrayed agitation to her sister's ear, "though
+I faced it very well this morning, I do not feel inclined to go
+through it again. People stared so. And I could not help thinking all
+the time, 'If they only knew!'--that was the thought that kept buzzing
+in my head. If only Mr. Drummond and all those people knew!"
+
+"What does it matter what people think?" returned Nan. But she said it
+languidly. In her heart she was secretly dismayed at this sudden
+failure of courage. Phillis had been quite bold and merry all the day,
+almost reckless in her speeches.
+
+"I am glad we came. This will do us both good," said Nan, gently, as
+they left the parade behind them, and went slowly over the shelving
+beach, with Laddie rolling like a clumsy black ball about their feet.
+Just before them there was a pretty black-timbered cottage, covered
+with roses, standing quite low on the shore, and beyond this was
+nothing but shingly beach, and a stretch of wet, yellow sand, on which
+the sun was shining. There was a smooth white boulder standing quite
+alone, on which the girls seated themselves. The tide was still going
+out; and the low wash of waves sounded pleasantly in their ears as
+they advanced and then receded. A shimmer of silvery light played upon
+the water, and a rosy tinge began to tint the horizon.
+
+"How quiet and still it is!" said Phillis, in an awe-struck voice.
+"When we are tired we must come here to rest ourselves. How prettily
+those baby waves seem to babble! it is just like the gurgle of baby
+laughter. And look at Laddie splashing in that pool: he is after that
+poor little crab. Come here, you rogue!" But Laddie, intent upon his
+sport, only cocked his ear restlessly and refused to obey.
+
+"Yes, it is lovely," returned Nan. "There is quite a silvery path over
+the water; by and by the sunset clouds will be beautiful. But what is
+the matter, dear?" as Phillis sighed and leaned heavily against her;
+and then, as she turned, she saw the girl's eyes were wet.
+
+"Oh, Nan! shall we have strength for it? That is what I keep asking
+myself to-day. No you must not look so frightened. I am brave enough
+generally, and I do not mean to lose pluck; but now and then the
+thought will come to me, Shall we have strength to go through with
+it?"
+
+"We must think of each other; that must keep us up," returned Nan,
+whose ready sympathy fully understood her sister's mood. Only to Nan
+would Phillis ever own her failure of courage or fears for the future.
+But now and then the brave young heart needed comfort, and always
+found it in Nan's sympathy.
+
+"It was looking at your dear beautiful face that made me feel so
+suddenly bad this morning," interrupted Phillis, with a sort of sob.
+"It was not the people so much; they only amused and excited me, and I
+kept thinking, 'If they only knew!' But, Nan, when I looked at
+you--oh, why are you so nice and pretty, if you have got to do this
+horrid work?"
+
+"I am not a bit nicer than you and Dulce," laughed Nan, embracing her,
+for she never could be made to understand that by most people she was
+considered their superior in good looks. The bare idea made her angry.
+"It is worse for you, Phillis, because you are so clever and have so
+many ideas. But there! we must not go on pitying each other, or else,
+indeed, we shall undermine our little stock of strength."
+
+"But don't you feel terribly unhappy sometimes?" persisted Phillis.
+Neither of them mentioned Dick, and yet he was in both their minds.
+
+"Perhaps I do," returned Nan, simply; and then she added, with
+quaintness that was pathetic, "You see, we are so unused to the
+feeling, and it is over-hard at first: by and by we shall be more used
+to not having our own way in things."
+
+"I think I could give up that readily, if I could be sure you and
+Dulce were not miserable," sighed Phillis.
+
+"That is what I say," returned Nan. "Don't you see how simple and
+beautiful that is? Thinking of each other gives us strength to go
+through with it all. This evening trying to cheer you up has done me
+good. I do not feel the least afraid of people to-night. Looking at
+that sea and sky makes one feel the littleness and unreality of all
+these worries. What does it matter--what does anything matter--if we
+only do our duty and love each other, and submit to the Divine will?"
+finished Nan, reverently, who seldom spoke of her deeper feelings,
+even to Phillis.
+
+"Nan, you are a saint," returned Phillis, enthusiastically. The
+worried look had left her eyes; they looked clear and bright as usual.
+"Oh, what a heathen I have been to-day! but, as Dulce is so fond of
+saying, 'I am going to be good. I will read the evening Psalms to you,
+in token of my resolution, if you like. But wait: is there not some
+one coming across the sand! How eerie it looks, such a tall black
+figure standing between the earth and sky!"
+
+Phillis had good sight, or she would hardly have distinguished the
+figure, which was now motionless, at such a distance. In another
+moment she even announced that its draperies showed it to be a woman,
+before she opened her book and commenced reading.
+
+There is something very striking in a lonely central figure in a
+scene, the outline cuts so sharply against the horizon. Nan's eyes
+seemed riveted on it as she listened to Phillis's voice; it seemed to
+her as immovable as a Sphinx, its rigidity lending a sort of
+barrenness and forlornness to the landscape, a black edition of human
+nature set under a violet and opal sky.
+
+She almost started when it moved, at last, with a steady bearing, as
+it seemed, towards them; then curiosity quickened into interest, and
+she touched Phillis's arm, whispering breathlessly,--
+
+"The Sphinx moves! Look--is not that Mrs. Cheyne, the lady who lives
+at the White House near us, who always looks so lonely and unhappy?"
+
+"Hush!" returned Phillis, "she will hear you;" and then Mrs. Cheyne
+approached with the same swift even walk. She looked at them for a
+moment, as she passed, with a sort of well-bred surprise in her air,
+as though she marvelled to see them there; her black dress touched
+Laddie, and he caught at it with an impotent bark.
+
+The sisters must have made a pretty picture, as they sat almost
+clinging together on the stone: one of Nan's little white hands rested
+on Laddie's head, the other lay on Phillis's lap. Phillis glanced up
+from her book, keen-eyed and alert in a moment; she turned her head to
+look at the stranger that had excited her interest, and then rose to
+her feet with a little cry of dismay.
+
+"Oh, Nan, I am afraid she has hurt herself! She gave such a slip just
+now. I wonder what has happened? She is leaning against the
+breakwater, too. Shall we go and ask her if she feels ill or
+anything?"
+
+"You may go," was Nan's answer. Nevertheless, she followed Phillis.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne looked up at them a little sharply as they came towards
+her. Her face was gray and contracted with pain.
+
+"I have slipped on a wet stone, and my foot has somehow turned on me,"
+she said, quickly, as Phillis ran up to her. "It was very stupid. I
+cannot think how it happened; but I have certainly sprained my ankle.
+It gives me such pain. I cannot move."
+
+"Oh, dear, I am so sorry!" returned Phillis, good-naturedly; and, in
+the most natural manner, she knelt down on the beach, and took the
+injured foot in her hands. "Yes, I can feel it is swelling dreadfully:
+we must try and get your boot off before the attempt gets too
+painful." And she commenced unfastening it with deft fingers.
+
+"How am I to walk without my boot?" observed Mrs. Cheyne, a little
+drily, as she looked down on the girl; but here Nan interposed in her
+brisk sensible way:
+
+"You must not walk; you must not think of such a thing. We will wet
+our handkerchiefs in the salt water, and bind up your ankle as well as
+we can; and then one of us will walk over to the White House for
+assistance. Your servants could easily obtain a wheeled chair."
+
+"You knew I lived at the White House, then?" returned Mrs. Cheyne,
+arching her eyebrows in some surprise; but she offered no opposition
+to Nan's plan. The removal of the boot had brought on a sensation of
+faintness, and she sat perfectly still and quiet while the girls
+swathed the foot in wet bandages.
+
+"It is a little easier now," she observed, gratefully. "How neatly you
+have done it! you must be used to such work. I am really very much
+obliged to you both for your kindly help; and now I am afraid I must
+trouble you further if I am ever to reach home."
+
+"I will go at once," returned Nan, cheerfully; "but I will leave my
+sister for fear you should feel faint again: besides, it is so
+lonely."
+
+"Oh, I am used to loneliness!" was the reply, as a bitter expression
+crossed her face.
+
+Phillis, who was still holding the sprained foot in her lap, looked up
+in her eager way.
+
+"I think one gets used to everything; that is a merciful dispensation;
+but all the same I hope you will not send me away. I dearly like to be
+useful; and at present my object is to prevent your foot coming into
+contact with these stones. Are you really in less pain now?--you look
+dreadfully pale."
+
+"Oh, that is nothing!" she returned, with a smile so sudden and sweet
+that it quite startled Phillis, for it lit up her face like sunshine;
+but almost before she caught it, it was gone. "How good you are to me!
+and yet I am a perfect stranger!" and then she added, as though with
+an afterthought, "But I saw you in church this morning."
+
+Phillis nodded: the question certainly required no answer.
+
+"If I knew you better, I should ask why your eyes questioned me so
+closely this morning. Do you know, Miss--Miss----" And here she
+hesitated and smiled, waiting for Phillis to fill up the blank.
+
+"My name is Challoner,--Phillis Challoner," replied Phillis, coloring
+a little; and then she added, frankly, "I am afraid you thought me
+rude, and that I stared at you, but my thoughts were all topsy-turvy
+this morning and refused to be kept in order. One feels curious,
+somehow, about the people among whom one has come to live."
+
+"Have you come to live here?" asked Mrs. Cheyne, eagerly, and a gleam
+of pleasure shot into her dark eyes,--"you, and your mother and
+sisters?"
+
+"Yes; we have just come to the Friary,--a little cottage standing on
+the Braidwood Road."
+
+Her manner became a little constrained and reserved as she said this:
+the charming frankness disappeared.
+
+"The Friary!" echoed Mrs. Cheyne; and then she paused for a moment,
+and her eyes rested searchingly on Phillis. "That shabby little
+cottage!" was the thought that filled up the outline of her words;
+but, though she felt inward surprise and a momentary disappointment,
+there was no change in the graciousness of her manner. Never before
+had she so thawed to any one: but the girl's sweet ministry had won
+her heart. "Then you will be near me,--just at my gates? We shall be
+close neighbors. I hope you will come and see me, Miss Challoner."
+
+Poor Phillis! the blood suddenly rushed over her face at this. How was
+she to answer without appearing ungracious?--and yet at this moment
+how could she explain?
+
+"If you please, we are dressmakers." Oh, no! such words as these would
+not get themselves said. It was too abrupt, too sudden, altogether:
+she was not prepared for such a thing. Oh, why had she not gone to the
+White House instead of Nan? Her officiousness had brought this on her.
+She could not put the poor foot off her lap and get up and walk away
+to cool her hot cheeks.
+
+"Thank you; you are very good," she stammered, feeling herself an
+utter fool: she,--Phillis,--the clever one!
+
+Mrs. Cheyne seemed rather taken aback by the girl's sudden reserve and
+embarrassment.
+
+"I suppose you think I should call first, and thank you for your
+kindness," she returned, quickly; "but I was afraid my foot would keep
+me too long a prisoner. And, as we are to be neighbors, I hardly
+thought it necessary to stand on ceremony; but if you would rather
+wait----"
+
+"Oh, no," replied Phillis, in despair; "we will not trouble you to do
+that! Nan and I will call and ask after your foot, and then we will
+explain. There is a little difficulty: you might not care to be
+friends with us if you knew," went on Phillis with burning cheeks;
+"but we will call and explain. Oh, yes, Nan and I will call!"
+
+"Do; I shall expect you," returned Mrs. Cheyne, half amused and half
+mystified at the girl's obvious confusion. What did the child mean?
+They were gentle-people,--one could see that at a glance. They were in
+reduced circumstances: they had come down to Hadleigh to retrench.
+Well, what did that matter? People's wealth or poverty never affected
+her; she would think none the less well of them for that; she would
+call at the Friary and entertain them at the White House with as much
+pleasure as though they lived in a palace. The little mystery piqued
+her, and yet excited her interest. It was long since she had
+interested herself so much in anything. To Miss Middleton she had
+always been cold and uncertain. Mr. Drummond she treated with a
+mixture of satire and haughtiness that aroused his ire. Phillis's
+frankness and simplicity had won her for a moment to her earlier and
+better self: she conceived an instantaneous liking for the girl who
+looked at her with such grave kindly glances. "I shall expect you,
+remember," she repeated, as Nan at that moment appeared in sight.
+
+"Oh, yes, Nan and I will come," returned Phillis, slowly, and almost
+solemnly; but an instant afterwards a flicker of amusement played
+round her mouth. It was painful, of course; but, still, how droll it
+was!
+
+"How long you have been, Nan!" she exclaimed, a little unreasonably,
+as Nan ran towards them, flushed and breathless from her haste.
+
+"It has not been long to me," observed Mrs. Cheyne, pointedly. She
+talked more to Nan than to Phillis after this, until the servants
+appeared with the wheeled chair; but nevertheless her last words were
+for Phillis. "Remember your promise," was all she said, as she held
+out her hand to the girl; and Phillis tried to smile in answer, though
+it was rather a failure after all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+DOROTHY BRINGS IN THE BEST CHINA.
+
+
+"What a fool I made of myself yesterday! but to-day Richard is himself
+again," said Phillis, as she gathered up another muslin curtain in her
+arms ready to hand to Nan, who was mounted on some steps. It was only
+Monday afternoon, but the girls had done wonders: the work-room, as
+they called it, was nearly finished. The great carved wardrobe and
+mahogany table had been polished by Dorothy's strong hands. Mrs.
+Challoner's easy-chair and little work-table at one window looked
+quite inviting; the sewing-machine and Nan's rosewood davenport were
+in their places. A hanging cupboard of old china, and a few well-bound
+books, gave a little coloring and finish, and one or two fine old
+prints that had hung in the dining-room at Glen Cottage had been
+disposed with advantage on the newly-papered walls. An inlaid clock
+ticked on the mantelpiece, and some handsome ruby-colored vases stood
+on either side of it. Nan was quite right when she had glanced round
+her a few minutes ago in a satisfied manner and said no one need be
+ashamed of living in such a room.
+
+"Our pretty things make it look almost too nice for the purpose," she
+continued, handling a precious relic, a Sevres cup and saucer, that
+had been her especial pride in old days. "I think you were wrong,
+Phil, not to have the china in the other room."
+
+"No, indeed; I want people to see it and be struck with our taste,"
+was Phillis's frank answer. "Think what pleasure it will give the poor
+ladies when their dresses are being tried on. Don't you remember the
+basket of wax fruit at Miss Slinders's, when we were small children? I
+thought it the loveliest work of art, and feasted my eyes all the time
+Miss Slinders was fitting my pink frock. Now, our pictures and china
+will refresh people's eyes in the same way."
+
+Nan smiled and shook her head, as she dusted and arranged her
+treasures. The china was very dear to her,--far more than the books
+Phillis was arranging on the chiffonnier. The Dresden figures that
+Dick had given to her mother were among them. She did not care for
+strangers to look at them and appraise their value. They were home
+treasures,--sacred relics of their past. The last time she had dusted
+them, a certain young man of her acquaintance had walked through the
+open window whistling "Blue bonnets over the Border," and had taken up
+his station beside her, hindering her work with his chattering. Dulce
+was in the upper regions, unpacking a box in her mother's room. Mrs.
+Challoner was coming home the next day, and Dorothy and she were hard
+at work getting things in order.
+
+When Phillis made her downright speech, Nan looked down from her lofty
+perch, and held out her arms for the curtain.
+
+"Richard is always himself, my dear," she said, softly. "Do you know
+when you are down, Phil, I feel as though we are all at a stand-still,
+and there's no getting on at all? and then at one of your dear droll
+speeches the sunshine comes out again, and we are all as right as
+possible."
+
+"Don't talk nonsense," was Phillis's blunt answer; but she could not
+help being pleased at the compliment. She looked up archly at Nan, as
+the mass of soft white drapery lay between them; and then they both
+broke into a laugh, just as two shadows seemed to glide past the
+window, and a moment afterwards the house-bell sounded.
+"Visitors!--oh, Nan!" And Phillis glanced down at the neat bib apron
+that she wore over her cambric dress.
+
+"Don't be afraid; Dorothy will have too much sense to admit them,"
+returned Nan, quite indifferently, as she went up a step higher to
+hang up the curtain.
+
+Phillis was still holding it; but her manner was not quite so well
+assured. She thought she heard Dulce's voice in confabulation with the
+stranger. A moment afterwards Dulce came briskly into the room.
+
+"Nan, Mr. Drummond and his sister have kindly called to see us. We are
+not in order, of course. Oh, dear!" as Nan looked down on them with
+startled eyes, not venturing to descend from her perch. "I ought not
+to have brought them in here," looking half mischievously and half
+guiltily at the young clergyman, who stood hat in hand on the
+threshold.
+
+"It is I who ought not to have intruded," he began, in a perfect agony
+of embarrassment, blushing over his face like a girl as Nan looked
+down at him in much dignity, but Mattie, who was behind him, pushed
+forward in her usual bustling way.
+
+"Oh, Miss Challoner, it is too bad! I told Archie that we ought not to
+come too soon----" but Phillis stopped her with an outstretched hand
+of welcome.
+
+"What is too bad? I call it very kind and friendly of you both: one
+hardly expected to find such good neighbors. Nan, if that curtain is
+finished I think you had better come down. Take care; those steps are
+rickety: perhaps Mr. Drummond will help you."
+
+"Let me do the other ones for you. I don't think those steps are
+safe!" exclaimed Archie, with sudden inspiration.
+
+No one at home would have believed such a thing of him. Mattie's eyes
+grew quite round and fixed with astonishment at the sight. He had not
+even shaken hands with Nan, yet there he was, mounted in her place,
+slipping in the hooks with dexterous hands, while Nan quietly held up
+the curtain.
+
+Months afterwards the scene came back on Archibald Drummond with a
+curious thrill half of pain and half of amusement. How had he done it?
+he wondered. What had made him all at once act in a way so unlike
+himself?--for, with the best intention, he was always a little stiff
+and constrained with strangers. Yet there he was laughing as though he
+had known them all his life, because Nan had rebuked him gravely for
+slipping two hooks into one ring. Months afterwards he recalled it
+all: Nan glancing up at him with quietly amused eyes, Phillis standing
+apart, looking quaint and picturesque in her bib-apron, Dulce with the
+afternoon sunshine lighting up her brown hair; the low old-fashioned
+room, with the great carved wardrobe, and the cupboard of dainty
+china; the shady little lawn outside, with Laddie rolling among the
+daisies. What made it suddenly start up in his memory like a picture
+one has seen and never quite forgotten?
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Drummond. You have done it so nicely," said Nan, with
+the utmost gravity, as he lingered, almost unwilling to descend to
+conventionality again. Dulce and Phillis were busily engaged looping
+up the folds. "Now we will ask Dorothy to remove the steps and then we
+can sit down comfortably."
+
+But here Archie interposed:
+
+"Why need you call any one? Tell me where I shall put them." Mattie
+broke into a loud laugh. She could not help it. It was too droll of
+Archie. She must write and tell Grace.
+
+Archie heard the laugh as he marched out of the room with his burden,
+and it provoked him excessively. He made some excuse about admiring
+Laddie, and went out on the lawn for a few minutes, accompanied by
+Nan. When they came back, the curtains were finished and the two girls
+were talking to Mattie. Mattie seemed quite at ease with them.
+
+"We have such a dear old garden at the vicarage," she was saying, as
+her brother came into the room. "I am not much of a gardener myself
+but Archie works for hours at a time. He talks of getting a set of
+tennis down from town. We think it will help to bring people together.
+You must promise to come and play sometimes of an afternoon when you
+have got the cottage in order."
+
+"Thank you," returned Phillis; and then Nan and she exchanged looks. A
+sort of blankness came over the sisters' faces,--a sudden dying out of
+the brightness and fun.
+
+Mr. Drummond grew a little alarmed:
+
+"I hope you will not disappoint my sister. She has few friends, and is
+rather lonely, missing so many sisters; and you are such close
+neighbors."
+
+"Yes, we are close neighbors," returned Phillis. But her voice was a
+little less clear than usual; and, to Archie's astonishment,--for they
+all seemed talking comfortably together,--her face had grown suddenly
+pale. "But you must not think us unkind if we refuse your
+hospitality," she went on, looking straight at him, and not at Mattie.
+"Owing to painful circumstances, we have made up our minds that no
+such pleasure are in store for us. We must learn to do without things:
+must we not, Nan?"
+
+"Yes, indeed," returned Nan, very gravely. And then the tears came
+into Dulce's eyes. Was Phillis actually going to tell them? She would
+have run away, only she was ashamed of such cowardice.
+
+"I hope you do not mean to do without friends," stammered Archie.
+"That would be too painful to bear." He thought they were excusing
+themselves from partaking of their neighbors' hospitality because they
+were too poor to return it, and wanted to set them at their ease. "You
+may have reasons for wishing to be quiet. Perhaps Mrs. Challoner's
+health, and--and--parties are not always desirable," he went on,
+floundering, a little in his speech, and signing to Mattie to come to
+his help, which she did at once, breathlessly:
+
+"Parties! Oh, dear, no! They are such a trouble and expense. But
+tennis and tea on the lawn is just nothing,--nothing at all. One can
+give a little fruit and some home-made cake. No one need scruple at
+that. Archie is not rich,--clergymen never are, you know,--but he
+means to entertain his friends as well as he can. I should like you to
+see Miss Middleton. She is a charming person. And the colonel is as
+nice as possible. We will just ask them to meet you in a quiet way,
+and, if your mother is not too much of an invalid, I hope she will
+give us the pleasure of her company, for when people are such close
+neighbors it is stupid to stand on ceremony," finished Mattie,
+bringing herself rapidly to a full stop.
+
+"You are very kind. But you do not understand," returned Phillis. And
+then she stopped, and a gleam of fun came into her eyes. Her sharp
+ears had caught the rattle of cups and saucers. Actually, that absurd
+Dorothy was bringing in tea in the old way, making believe that they
+were entertaining their friends in Glen Cottage fashion! She must get
+out the truth somehow before the pretty purple china made its
+appearance. "Oh," she went on, with a sort of gulp, as though she felt
+the sudden touch of cold water, "you come here meaning kindly, and
+asking us to your house, and taking compassion upon us because we are
+strangers and lonely, and you do not know that we are poor, and that
+we have lost our money, and----" But here Mr. Drummond was absolutely
+rude enough to interrupt her:
+
+"What does that matter, my dear Miss Challoner? Do you think that is
+of any consequence in mine or my sister's eyes? I suppose if I be your
+clergyman----" And then he stopped, and stroked his beard in an
+embarrassed way; for though Phillis's face was pale, there was
+laughter in her eyes.
+
+"Oh, if this be a parochial visit," she began, demurely; "but you
+should not have talked of tennis, Mr. Drummond. How do you know we are
+not Roman Catholics, or Wesleyans, or even Baptists, or Bible
+Christians? We might have gone to your church out of curiosity on
+Sunday, or to see the fashions. There is not a Quaker cut about us;
+but, still, we might be Unitarians, and people would not find it out,"
+continued Phillis, looking with much solemnity at the bewildered young
+Anglican.
+
+The situation was too absurd; there was no knowing to what length
+Phillis's recklessness and sense of humor would have brought her, only
+Nan's good sense came to the rescue:
+
+"Phillis is only in fun, Mr. Drummond. Of course we are Church-people:
+and of course we hope to attend your services. I am sure my mother
+will be pleased to see you, when you are kind enough to call. At
+Oldfield we were always good friends with our clergyman: he was such a
+dear old man."
+
+"Do you mean to forbid my sister's visits, then?" asked Archie,
+looking anxiously at her sweet face; Nan looked so pretty, in spite of
+her discomposure.
+
+"Oh, no! we do not mean to be so rude: do we, Phillis? We shall be so
+glad to see Miss Drummond; but--but," faltered Nan, losing breath a
+little, "we have been unfortunate, and must work for our living; and
+your sister perhaps would not care to visit dressmakers."
+
+"What!" exclaimed Archie: he almost jumped out of his chair in his
+surprise.
+
+Phillis had uttered a faint "Bravo, Nan!" but no one heard her.
+Dulce's cheeks were crimson, and she would not look at any one; but
+Nan, who had got out the dreaded word, went on bravely, and was well
+hugged by Phillis in private afterwards.
+
+"We are not clever enough for governesses," continued Nan, with a
+charming smile, addressing Mattie, who sat and stared at her, "and
+there was nothing we dreaded so much as to separate: so, as we had
+capable fingers and were fond of work, my sister Phillis planned this
+for us. Now you see, Miss Drummond, why we could not accept your kind
+hospitality. Whatever we have been, we cannot expect people to visit
+us now. If you would be good enough to recommend us, and help us in
+our efforts to make ourselves independent, that is all we can ask of
+you."
+
+"Well, I don't know," returned Mattie, bluntly: "as far as I am
+concerned, I am never ashamed of any honest calling. What do you say,
+Archie?"
+
+"I say it is all very proper and laudable," he returned, hesitating;
+"but surely--surely there must be some other way more suitable to
+ladies in your position! Let me call again when your mother comes, and
+see if there is nothing that I can do or recommend better than this.
+Yes, I am sure if I can only talk to your mother, we could find some
+other way than this."
+
+"Indeed, Mr. Drummond, you must do nothing of the kind," replied
+Phillis, in an alarmed voice: "the poor dear mother must not be
+disturbed by any such talk! You mean it kindly, but we have made up
+our own minds, Nan and I: we mean to do without the world and live in
+one of our own; and we mean to carry out our plan in defiance of
+everything and everybody; and, though you are our clergyman and we are
+bound to listen to your sermons, we cannot take your advice in this."
+
+"But--but I would willingly act as a friend," began the young man,
+confusedly, looking not at her, but at Nan.
+
+He was so bewildered, so utterly taken aback, he hardly knew what he
+said.
+
+"Here comes Dorothy with the tea," interrupted Nan, pleasantly, as
+though dismissing the subject: "she has not forgotten our old customs.
+Friends always came around us in the afternoon. Mr. Drummond, perhaps
+you will make yourself useful and cut the cake. Dorothy, you need not
+have unpacked the best silver teapot." Nan was moving about in her
+frank hospitable way. Laddie was whining for cake, and breaking into
+short barks of impatience. "This is one of our Glen Cottage cakes.
+Susan always prides herself on the recipe," said Nan, calmly, as she
+pressed it on her guests.
+
+Mr. Drummond almost envied his sister as she praised the cake and
+asked for the recipe. He had always found fault with her manners; but
+now nothing could be finer than her simplicity. Pure good nature and
+innate womanliness were teaching Mattie something better than tact.
+Nan had dropped a painful subject, and she would not revive it in her
+brother's presence. There would be plenty of time for her to call and
+talk it over with them quietly. Help them!--of course she would help
+them. They should have her new silk dress that Uncle Conway had just
+sent her. It was a risk, for perhaps they might spoil it; but such
+fine creatures should have a chance. At present she would only enjoy
+the nice tea, and talk to poor little frightened Dulce, who seemed
+unable to open her lips after her sister's disclosure.
+
+Archie could not emulate her ease: a man is always at a disadvantage
+in such a case. His interest had sustained no shock: it was even
+stimulated by what he had just heard; but his sympathy seemed all at
+once congealed, and he could find no vent for it. In spite of his best
+efforts his manner grew more and more constrained every moment.
+
+Nan looked at him more than once with reproachful sweetness. She
+thought they had lost caste in his eyes; but Phillis, who was shrewd
+and sharp-set in her wits, read him more truly. She knew--having
+already met a score of such--how addicted young Englishmen are to
+_mauvaise honte_, and how they will hide acute sensibilities under
+blunt and stolid exteriors; and there was a certain softness in Mr.
+Drummond's eye that belied his stiffness. Most likely he was very
+sorry for them, and did not know how to show it; and in this she was
+right.
+
+Mr. Drummond was very sorry for them; but he was still more grieved
+for himself. The Oxford fellow had not long been a parish priest, and
+he could not at all understand the position in which he found
+himself,--taking tea with three elegant young dressmakers who talked
+the purest English and had decided views on tennis and horticulture.
+He had just been congratulating himself on securing such companionship
+for his sister and himself. Being rather classical-minded, he had been
+calling them the gray-eyed Graces, and one of them at least "a
+daughter of the gods,--divinely tall and most divinely fair;" for
+where had he seen anything to compare with Nan's bloom and charming
+figure? Dressmakers!--oh, if only Grace were at hand, that he might
+talk to her, and gain her opinion how he was to act in such case!
+Grace had the stiff-necked Drummond pride as well as he, and would
+hesitate long behind the barriers of conventionality. No wonder, with
+all these thoughts passing through his mind, that Nan, with her bright
+surface talk, found him a little vague.
+
+It was quite a relief to all the party when Mattie gave the signal for
+departure and the bell was rung for Dorothy to show them out.
+
+"Well, Nan, what do you think of our visitors?" asked Phillis, when
+the garden-door had clanged noisily after them, and she had treated
+Nan to the aforesaid hugs; "for you were so brave, darling, and
+actually took the wind out of my sails!" exclaimed the enthusiastic
+Phillis. "Miss Drummond is not so bad, after all, is she, in spite of
+her dowdiness and fussy ways?"
+
+"No; she means well; and so does her brother. He is very nice, only
+his self-consciousness spoils him," returned Nan, in a calm,
+discursive tone, as though they were discussing ordinary visitors.
+
+It was impossible for these young girls to see that their ordinary
+language was not humble enough for their new circumstances. They would
+make mistakes at every turn, like Dorothy, who got out the best china
+and brewed her tea in the melon-shaped silver teapot.
+
+Phillis opened her eyes rather widely at this. Nan was not often so
+observant. It was true: self-consciousness was a torment to Archibald
+Drummond, a Frankenstein of his own creation, that had grown
+imperceptibly with his growth to the fell measure of his manhood, as
+inseparable as the shadow from the substance. Phillis had recognized
+it at once; but then, as she said, no one was faultless; and then, he
+was so handsome. "Very handsome" chimed in Dulce, whose opinions were
+full-fledged in such matters.
+
+"Is he? Well, I never cared for a man with a long fair beard,"
+observed Nan, carelessly. Poor Archie! how his vanity would have
+suffered if he had heard her! for, in a masculine way, he prided
+himself excessively on the soft silky appendage that Grace had so
+often praised. A certain boyish countenance, with kindly honest eyes
+and a little sandy moustache, was more to Nan's taste than the
+handsome young Anglican.
+
+"Oh, we all know Nan's opinion in such matters," said Dulce, slyly;
+and then Nan blushed, and suddenly remembered that Dorothy was waiting
+for her in the linen-closet, and hurried away, leaving her sisters to
+discuss their visitors to their hearts' content.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+ARCHIE IS IN A BAD HUMOR.
+
+
+"Oh, Archie, I was never more astonished in my life!" exclaimed
+Mattie, as she tried to adapt her uneven trot to her brother's long
+swinging footsteps; and then she glanced up in his face to read his
+mood: but Archie's features were inscrutable and presented an
+appalling blank. In his mind he was beginning his letter to Grace, and
+wondering what he should say to her about their new neighbors.
+"Writing is such a nuisance when one wants to talk to a person," he
+thought, irritably.
+
+"Oh, Archie, won't you tell me what we are to do?" went on Mattie,
+excitedly. She would not take Archie's silence as a hint that he
+wanted to keep his thoughts to himself. "Those poor girls! oh, how
+nice and pretty they all are, especially the eldest! and is not the
+youngest--Dulce, I think they called her--the very image of Isabel?"
+
+"Isabel! not a bit. That is so like you, Mattie. You always see
+likenesses when other people cannot trace the faintest resemblance,"
+for this remark was sure to draw out his opposition. Isabel was a
+silly flirting little thing in her brother's estimation, and, he
+thought, could not hold a candle to the youngest Miss Challoner.
+
+"Oh dear! now I have made you cross!" sighed poor Mattie, who
+especially wanted to keep him in good humor. "And yet every one but
+you thinks Isabel so pretty. I am sure, from what Grace said in her
+last letter, that Mr. Ellis Burton means to propose to her."
+
+"And I suppose you will all consider that a catch," sneered Archie.
+"That is so like a parcel of women, thinking every man who comes to
+the house and makes a few smooth-tongued speeches--is, in fact,
+civil--must be after a girl. Of course you have all helped to instill
+this nonsense into the child's head."
+
+"Dear me, how you talk, Archie!" returned Mattie, feeling herself
+snubbed as usual. Why, Archie had been quite excited about it only the
+other day, and had said quite seriously that with seven girls in a
+family, it would be a great blessing if Isabel could make such a
+match; for it was very unlikely that Laura and Susie, or even Clara,
+would do much for themselves in that way, unless they decidedly
+improved in looks.
+
+"Well, it is nothing to me," he returned in a chilling manner; "we all
+know our own mind best. If an angular lantern-jawed fellow like
+Burton, who, by the bye, does not speak the best English, is to
+Isabel's taste, let her have him by all means: he is well-to-do, and I
+dare say will keep a carriage for her by and by: that is what you
+women think a great advantage," finished Archie, who certainly seemed
+bent on making himself disagreeable.
+
+Mattie heaved another great sigh, but she did not dare to contradict
+him. Grace would have punished him on the spot by a dose of satire
+that would have brought him to reason and good nature in a moment; but
+Mattie ventured only on those laborious sighs which she jerked up from
+the bottom of her honest little heart.
+
+Archie heard the sigh, and felt ashamed of his bad temper. He did not
+know himself why he felt so suddenly cross; some secret irritation was
+at work within him, and he could scarcely refrain from bidding Mattie
+quite roughly to hold her tongue and not tease him with her chatter.
+If she expected him in his present state of mind, which was at once
+contradictory and aggressive, to talk to her about the Challoners, she
+must just make up her mind to be disappointed, for he could not bring
+himself to speak of them to her just now: he wanted to hold counsel
+with his own thoughts and with Grace. He would call at the Friary
+again and see Mrs. Challoner, and find out more of this strange
+matter; but as to talking it over with Mattie, he quite shrugged his
+shoulders as he swung open the green door.
+
+"Are you going in?" faltered Mattie, as she noticed this movement.
+
+"Well, yes; I have letters to write, and it is too hot for a longer
+walk," he returned, decidedly; and then, as Mattie stood hesitating
+and wistful in the middle of the road, he strode off, leaving the door
+to close noisily after him, and not caring to inquire into her further
+movements, such being the occasional graceless manners of brothers
+when sisterly friendship is not to their liking.
+
+Mattie felt snubbed; but for the first time in her life, she did not
+take her snubbing meekly. It was too much to expect of her, who was
+only a woman and not one of Archie's divinities, that she should
+follow him into the house and hold her tongue just because he was
+pleased to refrain from speaking. Water must find its vent; and
+Mattie's tongue could not be silenced in this way. If Archie would not
+talk to her, Miss Middleton would: so at once she trotted off for
+Brooklyn, thereby incurring Archie's wrath if he could only have known
+her purpose; for gossip was to him as the sin of witchcraft, unless he
+stooped to it himself, and then it was amiable sociability.
+
+Miss Middleton was listening to her father's reading as usual, but she
+welcomed Mattie with open arms, literally as well as metaphorically,
+for she kissed Mattie on either cheek, and then scolded her tenderly
+for looking so flushed and tired; "for somebody who is always looking
+after other people, and never has time to spare for herself, is
+growing quite thin; is she not, father? and we must write to Grace if
+this goes on," finished Miss Middleton, with one of her kind looks.
+
+All this was cordial to poor Mattie, who, though she was used to
+snubbing, and took as kindly to it as a spaniel to water, yet felt
+herself growing rather like a thread-paper and shabby with every-day
+worries and never an encouraging word to inspirit her.
+
+So she gave Elizabeth a misty little smile,--Mattie's smile was
+pretty, though her features were ordinary,--and then sat up straight
+and began to enjoy herself,--that is, to talk,--never noticing that
+Colonel Middleton looked at his paper in a crestfallen manner, not
+much liking the interruption and the cessation of his own voice.
+
+"Oh, dear!" began Mattie: she generally prefaced her remarks by an
+"Oh, dear!" ("That was one of her jerky ways," as Archie said.) "I
+could not help coming straight to you, for Archie would not talk, and
+I felt I must tell somebody. Oh, dear, Miss Middleton! What do you
+think? We have just called at the Friary--and----" but here Colonel
+Middleton's countenance relaxed, and he dropped his paper.
+
+"Those young ladies, eh? Come, Elizabeth, this is interesting. Well,
+what sort of place is the Friary, seen from the inside, eh, Miss
+Drummond?"
+
+"Oh, it is very nice," returned Mattie, enthusiastically. "We were
+shown into such a pretty room, looking out on the garden. They have so
+many nice things,--pictures, and old china, and handsomely-bound
+books, and all arranged so tastefully. And before we went away, the
+old servant--she seems really quite a superior person--brought in an
+elegant little tea-tray: the cups and saucers were handsomer even than
+yours, Miss Middleton,--dark-purple and gold. Just what I admire
+so----"
+
+"Ah, reduced in circumstances! I told you so, Elizabeth," ejaculated
+the colonel.
+
+"I never saw Archie enjoy himself so much or seem so thoroughly at
+home anywhere. Somehow, the girls put us so at our ease. Though they
+were hanging up curtains when we went in,--and any one else would have
+been annoyed at our intruding so soon,--actually, before we were in
+the room a moment, Archie was on the steps, helping the eldest Miss
+Challoner fasten the hooks."
+
+Miss Middleton exchanged an amused look with her father. Mattie's
+narrative was decidedly interesting.
+
+"Oh, don't tell him I repeated that, for he is always calling me
+chatterbox!" implored Mattie, who feared she had been indiscreet, and
+that the colonel was not to be trusted, which was quite true as far as
+jokes were concerned. No one understood the art of teasing better than
+he, and the young vicar had already had a taste of his kindly satire.
+"Archie only meant to be good-natured and put every one at their
+ease."
+
+"Quite right. Mr. Drummond is always kind," returned Elizabeth,
+benignly. She had forgotten Mattie's frequent scoldings, and the poor
+little thing's tired face, or she would never have hazarded such a
+compromise with truth. But somehow Elizabeth always forgot people's
+weaknesses, especially when they were absent. It was so nice and easy
+to praise people; and if she always believed what she said, that was
+because her faith was so strong, and charity that is love was her
+second nature.
+
+"Oh, yes, of course," returned Mattie, innocently. She was far too
+loyal a little soul to doubt Archie's kindness for a moment. Was he
+not the pride and ornament of the family,--the domestic pope who
+issued his bulls without possibility of contradiction? Whatever Archie
+did must be right. Was not that their domestic creed?--a little
+slavish, perhaps, but still so exquisitely feminine. Mattie was of
+opinion that--well, to use a mild term--irritability was a necessary
+adjunct of manhood. All men were cross sometimes. It behooved their
+womankind, then, to throw oil on the troubled waters,--to speak
+peaceably, and to refrain from sour looks, or even the shadow of a
+frown. Archie was never cross with Grace: therefore it must be she,
+Mattie, on whom the blame lay; she was such a silly little thing, And
+so on. There is no need to follow the self-accusation of one of the
+kindest hearts that ever beat.
+
+"Did not your visit end as pleasantly as it began?" asked Elizabeth,
+who, though she was over-merciful in her judgments, was not without a
+good deal of sagacity and shrewdness. Something lay beyond the margin
+of Mattie's words, she could see that plainly; and then her father was
+getting impatient.
+
+"Well, you see, that spoiled everything," returned Mattie, jumbling
+her narrative in the oddest manner. "Archie was so sorry, and so was
+I; and he got quite--you know his way when he feels uncomfortable. I
+thought Miss Challoner was joking at first,--that it was just a bit of
+make-believe fun,--until I saw how grave Miss Phillis, that is the
+second one, looked: and then the little one--at least, she is not
+little, but somehow one fancies she is--seemed as though she were
+going to cry."
+
+"But what did Miss Challoner say to distress you and Mr. Drummond so?"
+asked Elizabeth, trying patiently to elicit facts and not vague
+statements from Mattie.
+
+"Oh, she said--no, please don't think I am exaggerating, for it is all
+true--that they had lost their money, and were very poor, and, that
+she and her sisters were dressmakers."
+
+"Dressmakers!" shouted the colonel, and his ruddy face grew almost
+purple with the shock: his very moustache seemed to bristle.
+"Dressmakers! my dear Miss Drummond, I don't believe a word of it!
+Those girls! It is a hoax!--a bit of nonsense from beginning to end!"
+
+"Hush, father! you are putting Mattie out," returned Elizabeth,
+mildly. It was one of her idiosyncrasies to call people as soon as
+possible by their Christian names, though no one but her father and
+brother ever called her Elizabeth. Perhaps her gray hair, and a
+certain soft dignity that belonged to her, forbade such freedom. "Dear
+father, we must let Mattie speak." But even Elizabeth let her work lie
+unheeded in her lap in the engrossing interest of the subject.
+
+"I do not mean they have been dressmakers all this time, but this is
+their plan for the future. Miss Challoner said they were not clever
+enough for governesses, and that they did not want to separate. But
+that is what they mean to do,--to make dresses for people who are not
+half so good as themselves."
+
+"Preposterous! absurd!" groaned the colonel. "Where is their
+mother? What can the old lady be thinking about?" Mrs. Challoner
+was not an old lady by any means; but then the choleric colonel had
+never seen her, or he would not have applied that term to the
+aristocratic-looking gentlewoman whom Mattie had admired in Miss
+Milner's shop.
+
+"I had a good look round the room afterwards," went on Mattie,
+letting this pass. "They had got a great carved wardrobe,--I thought
+that funny in a sitting-room; but of course it was for the
+dresses,"--another groan from the colonel,--"and there was a
+sewing-machine, and a rosewood davenport for accounts, and a
+chiffonnier of course for the pieces. Oh, they mean business; and I
+should not be surprised if they understand their work well," went on
+Mattie, warming up to her subject and thinking of the breadths of
+green silk that reposed so snugly between silver paper in her
+drawers at the vicarage,--the first silk dress she had ever owned,
+for the Drummond finances did not allow of such luxuries,--the new
+color, too; such a soft, invisible, shadowy green, like an autumn
+leaf shrivelled by the sun's richness. "Oh, if they should spoil it!"
+thought Mattie, with a sigh, as the magnitude of her intended
+sacrifice weighed heavily upon her mind.
+
+"It is sheer girlish nonsense,--I might say foolery; and the mother
+must be a perfect idiot!" began the colonel, angrily.
+
+He was an excitable man; and his wrath at the intelligence was really
+very great. He had taken a fancy to the new-comers, and was prepared
+to welcome them heartily in his genial way; but now his old-fashioned
+prejudices were grievously wounded. It was against his nice code of
+honor that women should do anything out of the usual beaten groove:
+innovations that would make them conspicuous were heinous sins in his
+eyes.
+
+"Come, Mattie, you and I will have a chat about this by ourselves,"
+observed Elizabeth, cheerfully, as she noticed her father's vexation.
+He would soon cool down if left to himself: she knew that well.
+"Suppose we go down to Miss Milner, and hear what she has to say: you
+may depend upon it that it was this that made her so reserved with us
+the other day."
+
+"Oh, do you think so?" exclaimed Mattie; but she was charmed at the
+idea of fresh gossip. And then they set off together.
+
+Miss Milner seemed a little surprised to see them so soon, for Mattie
+had already paid her a visit that day; but at Miss Middleton's first
+words a look of annoyance passed over her good-natured face.
+
+"Dear, dear! to think of that leaking out already," she said, in a
+vexed voice; "and I have not spoken to a soul, because the young
+ladies asked me to keep their secret a few days longer. 'You must give
+us till next Monday,' one of them said this very morning: 'by that
+time we shall be in order, and then we can set to work.'"
+
+"It was Miss Challoner who told me herself," observed Mattie, in a
+deprecating manner. "My brother and I called this afternoon: you see,
+being the clergyman, and such close neighbors, he thought we might be
+of some use to the poor things."
+
+"Poor things indeed!" ejaculated Miss Milner. "I cannot tell you how
+bad I felt," she went on, her little gray curls bobbing over her high
+cheek-bones with every word, "when that dear young lady put down her
+head there"--pointing to a spot about as big as a half-crown on the
+wooden counter--"and cried like a baby. 'Oh, how silly I am!' she
+said, sobbing-like; 'and what would my sisters say to me? But you are
+so kind, Miss Milner; and it does seem all so strange and horrid.' I
+made up my mind, then and there," finished the good woman, solemnly,
+"that I would help them to the best of my powers. I have got their
+bits of advertisements to put about the shop; and there's my new black
+silk dress, that has laid by since Christmas, because I knew Miss
+Slasher would spoil it; not but what they may ruin it finely for me;
+but I mean to shut my eyes and take the risk," with a little smile of
+satisfaction over her own magnanimity.
+
+Elizabeth stretched out her hand across the counter.
+
+"Miss Milner, you are a good creature," she said, softly. "I honor you
+for this. If people always helped each other and thought so little of
+a sacrifice, the world would be a happier place." And then, without
+waiting for a reply from the gratified shopwoman, she went out of the
+library with a thoughtful brow.
+
+"Miss Milner has read me a lesson," she said, by and by, when Mattie
+had marvelled at her silence a little. "Conventionality makes cowards
+of the best of us. I am not particularly worldly-minded," she went on,
+with a faint smile, "but all the same I must plead guilty to feeling a
+little shocked myself at your news; but when I have thought a little
+more about it, I dare say I shall see things by a truer light, and be
+as ready to admire these girls as I am now to wonder at them." And
+after this she bade Mattie a kindly good-bye.
+
+Meanwhile, Phillis was bracing herself to undergo another ordeal. Mr.
+Drummond and his sister had only just left the cottage when a footman
+from the White House brought a note for her. It was from Mrs. Cheyne,
+and was worded in a most friendly manner.
+
+She thanked the sisters gracefully for their timely help on the
+previous evening, and, though making light of her accident, owned that
+it would keep her a prisoner to her sofa for a few days; and then she
+begged them to waive ceremony and come to her for an hour or two that
+evening.
+
+"I will not ask you to dinner, because that will perhaps inconvenience
+you, as you must be tired or busy," she wrote; "but if one or both of
+you would just put on your hats and walk up in the cool of the evening
+to keep Miss Mewlstone and myself company, it would be a real boon to
+us both." And then she signed herself "Magdalene Cheyne."
+
+Phillis wore a perplexed look on her face as she took the note to Nan,
+who was still in the linen-closet.
+
+"Very kind; very friendly," commented Nan, when she had finished
+reading it; "but I could not possibly go, Phil. As soon as I have done
+this I have promised to sit with mother. She has been alone all day.
+You could easily send an excuse, for Mrs. Cheyne must know we are
+busy."
+
+"I don't feel as though an excuse will help us here," returned
+Phillis, slowly. "When an unpleasant thing has to be done, it is as
+well to get it over: thinking about it only hinders one's sleep."
+
+"But you will surely not go alone!" demanded Nan, in astonishment.
+"You are so tired, Phil: you have been working hard all day. Give it
+up, dear, and sit and rest in the garden a little."
+
+"Oh, no," returned Phillis, disconsolately. "I value my night's rest
+too much to imperil it so lightly: besides, I owe it to myself for a
+penance for being such a coward this afternoon." And then, without
+waiting for any further dissuasion, she carried off the letter and
+wrote a very civil but vague reply, promising to walk up in the
+evening and inquire after the invalid; and then she dismissed the
+messenger, and went up to her room with a heavy heart.
+
+Dulce came to help her, like a dutiful sister, and chattered on
+without intermission.
+
+"I suppose you will put on your best dress?" she asked, as she dived
+down into the recesses of a big box.
+
+Phillis, who was sitting wearily on the edge of her bed, roused up at
+this:
+
+"My best blue silk and cashmere, that we wore last at Fitzroy Lodge?
+Dulce, how can you be so absurd! Anything will do,--the gray stuff, or
+the old foulard. No, stop; I forgot: the gray dress is better made and
+newer in cut. We must think of that. Oh, what a worry it is going out
+when one is tired to death!" she continued, with unusual irritation.
+
+Dulce respected her sister's mood, and held her peace, though she knew
+the gray dress was the least becoming to Phillis, who was pale, and
+wanted a little color to give her brightness.
+
+"There, now, you look quite nice," she said, in a patronizing voice,
+as Phillis put on her hat and took her gloves. Phillis nodded her
+thanks rather sadly, and then bethought herself and came back and
+kissed her.
+
+"Thank you, dear Dulce; I am not nearly so tired now; but it is
+getting late, and I must run off." And so she did until she had turned
+the corner, and then, in spite of herself, her steps became slower and
+more lagging.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+"YOU ARE ROMANTIC."
+
+
+Human nature is prone to argument; a person will often in the course
+of a few moments bring himself or herself to the bar of conscience,
+and accuse, excuse, and sum up the case in the twinkling of an eye.
+
+On arriving at the lodge-gates Phillis began to take herself to task.
+Conscience, that "makes cowards of us all," began its small inner
+remonstrance; then followed self-flagellation and much belaboring of
+herself with many remorseful terms. She was a pitiful thing compared
+to Nan; she was conventional; there were no limits to her pride. Where
+were that freedom and nobility of soul which she once fancied would
+sweep over worldly prejudices, and carry her into purer air? She was
+still choking in the fogs of mere earthly exhalations; no wonder Nan
+was a little disappointed in her, though she was far too kind to say
+so. Well, she was disappointed in herself.
+
+By this time she had reached the hall door; and now she began to hold
+up her head more boldly, and to look about her; when a very
+solemn-looking butler confronted her, she said to herself, "It will be
+all the same a hundred years hence, and I am determined this time not
+to be beaten;" and then she asked for Mrs. Cheyne with something of
+her old sprightliness, and nothing could exceed the graceful ease of
+her entrance.
+
+All the Challoners walked well. There was a purity of health about
+them that made them delight in movement and every bodily exercise,--an
+elasticity of gait that somehow attracted attention.
+
+No girls danced better than they. And when they had the chance, which
+was seldom, they could ride splendidly. Their skating was a joy to
+see, and made one wish that the ice would last forever, that one could
+watch such light, skimming practice; and as for tennis, no other girl
+had a chance of being chosen for a partner unless the Challoners
+good-naturedly held aloof, which ten times out of twelve they were
+sure to do.
+
+Phillis, who, from her pale complexion, was supposed to possess the
+least vitality, delighted in exercise for its own sake. "It is a
+pleasure only to be alive and to know it," was a favorite speech with
+her on summer mornings, when the shadows were blowing lightly hither
+and thither, and the birds had so much to say that it took them until
+evening to finish saying it.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne, who was lying on her couch, watched with admiring eyes
+the girl's straightforward walk, so alert and business-like, so free
+from fuss and consciousness, and held out her hand with a more
+cordial welcome than she was accustomed to show her visitors.
+
+It was a long room; and as the summer dusk was falling, and there was
+only a shaded lamp beside Mrs. Cheyne, it was full of dim corners.
+Nevertheless, Phillis piloted herself without hesitation to the
+illuminated circle.
+
+"This is good of you, Miss Challoner, to take me at my word. But where
+is your sister? I wanted to look at her again, for it is long since I
+have seen any one so pretty. Miss Mewlstone, this is the good
+Samaritan who bound up my foot so cleverly."
+
+"Ah, just so," returned Miss Mewlstone. And a soft, plump hand touched
+Phillis's, and then she went on picking up stitches and taking no
+further notice.
+
+"Nan could not come," observed Phillis. "She had to run down to Beach
+House to report progress to mother. We hope she is coming home
+to-morrow. But, as you were so kind as to write, I thought I would
+just call and inquire about your foot. And then it would be easier to
+explain things than to write about it."
+
+"Oh! so your mother is coming home!" returned Mrs. Cheyne, with so
+much interest in her voice that Miss Mewlstone left off counting to
+look at her. ("Just so, just so," Phillis heard her mutter.) "You must
+have worked hard to get ready for her so soon. When my foot will allow
+me to cross a room without hobbling, I will do myself the pleasure of
+calling on her. But that will be neither this week nor the next, I am
+afraid. But I shall see a good deal of you and your sister before
+then," she concluded, with the graciousness of one who knows she is
+conferring an unusual honor.
+
+"I do not know," faltered Phillis. And then she sat upright, and
+looked her hostess full in the face. "That will be for you to decide
+when you hear what I have to say. But I fear"--with a very poor
+attempt at a smile--"that we shall see very little of each other in
+the future."
+
+"Oh, there is a mystery, is there?" returned Mrs. Cheyne, with a
+little scorn in her manner; and her mouth took one of the downward
+curves that Mr. Drummond so thoroughly disliked. She had taken an odd
+fancy to these girls, especially to Phillis, and had thought about
+them a good deal during a sleepless, uneasy night. Their simplicity,
+their straightforward unconsciousness, had attracted her in spite of
+her cynicism. But at the first suspicion of mystery she withdrew into
+herself rather haughtily. "Do speak out, I beg, Miss Challoner; for if
+there be one thing that makes me impatient, it is to have anything
+implied."
+
+"I am quite of your opinion," replied Phillis, with equal haughtiness,
+only it sat more strangely on her girlishness. "That is why I am here
+to-night,--just to inquire after your foot and explain things."
+
+"Well?" still more impatiently, for this woman was a spoiled child,
+and hated to be thwarted, and was undisciplined and imperious enough
+to ruin all her own chances of happiness.
+
+"I told you that we were very poor," went on Phillis, in a sweet and
+steady voice; "but that did not seem to impress you much, and I
+thought how noble that was,"--catching her breath an instant; "but it
+will make a difference and shock you dreadfully, as it did Mr.
+Drummond, when I tell you we are dressmakers,--Nan and Dulce and I: at
+least that will be our future occupation."
+
+"Ah, just so!" ejaculated Miss Mewlstone; but she said it with her
+lips far apart, and a mistiness came into her sleepy blue eyes.
+Perhaps, though she was stout and middle-aged and breathed a little
+too heavily at times, she remembered--long ago when she was young and
+poor and had to wage a bitter war with the world--when she ate the dry
+bread and drank the bitter water of dependence and felt herself ill
+nourished by such unpalatable sustenance. "Oh, just so, poor thing!"
+And a little round tear dripped on to the ball of scarlet fleecy
+wool.
+
+But Mrs. Cheyne listened to the announcement in far different mood.
+There was an incredulous stare at Phillis, as though she suspected her
+of a joke; and then she laughed, a dry, harsh laugh, that was not
+quite pleasant to hear.
+
+"Oh, this is droll, passing droll!" she said, and leaned back on her
+cushions, and drew her Indian cashmere round her and frowned a
+little.
+
+"I am glad you find it so," returned Phillis, who was nonplussed at
+this, and did not know what to say, and was a little angry in
+consequence; and then she got up from her chair with a demonstration
+of spirit. "I am glad you find it so; but to us it is sad
+earnestness!"
+
+"What! are you going?" asked Mrs. Cheyne, with a keen glance through
+her half-shut eyes at poor Phillis standing so tall and straight
+before her. "And you have not told me the reason for taking so strange
+a step!"
+
+"The reason lies in our poverty and paucity of resources," was
+Phillis's curt reply.
+
+"It is not to make a sensation, then? no, I did not mean that," as
+Phillis shot an indignant glance at her,--"not exactly; but there is
+no knowing what the emancipated girl will do. Of course I have no
+right to question, who was a stranger to you four-and-twenty hours
+ago, and had never heard the name of Challoner, except that it was a
+good and an old name; but when one sees young things like you about to
+forfeit caste and build up a barrier between yourselves and your
+equals that the bravest will fear to pass, it seems as though one must
+lift up one's voice in protest."
+
+"Thank you; but it will be of no use," returned Phillis, coldly.
+
+"You are determined to make other people's dresses?" And here her lip
+curled a little, perhaps involuntarily.
+
+"We must must make dresses or starve; for our fingers are cleverer
+than our brains," replied Phillis, defiantly; for she knew nothing
+about it, and her powers were so immature and unfledged that she had
+never tried her wings, and had no notion whether she could fly or not,
+and yet no girl had a clearer head. "We have chosen work that we know
+we can do well, and we mean not to be ashamed of our occupation. In
+the old days ladies used to spin and weave, and no one blamed them,
+though they were noble; and if my work will bring me money, and keep
+the mother comfortable, I see nothing that will prevent my doing it."
+
+"Ah, you are romantic, Miss Challoner; you will soon be taught
+matter-of-fact!"
+
+"I am willing to learn anything, but I must choose my teachers,"
+retorted Phillis, with a little heat, for the word "romantic," and the
+satirical droop of Mrs. Cheyne's lip made her decidedly cross. "But I
+must not detain you any more with our uninteresting affairs," dropping
+a little courtesy, half in pique and half in mockery, for her spirits
+were rising under this rough treatment.
+
+"It is far from uninteresting; I have not heard anything so exciting
+for a long time. Well, perhaps you had better go before I say anything
+very rude, for I am terribly outspoken, and I think you are all silly
+self-willed young people." Then, as Phillis bridled her neck like an
+untamed colt, she caught hold of the girl's dress to detain her, and
+the sharpness passed out of her eyes. "Now, don't go away and believe
+that I think any worse of you for telling me this. I am a
+cross-grained body, and contradiction makes me worse. I don't know how
+I shall act: I must have time to consider this extraordinary bit of
+news. But all the same, whatever I do, whether I know you or do not
+know you, I shall always think you the very bravest girl I ever saw."
+And then she let her go, and Phillis, with her head in the air and her
+thoughts all topsy-turvy, marched out of the room.
+
+But when she reached the end of the corridor there was a soft but
+distinctly audible breathing behind her, and, as in Mr. Drummond's
+case Miss Mewlstone's shadowy gray gown swept between her and the
+door.
+
+"Miss Mewlstone, how you startled me! but the carpets are so soft and
+thick!"
+
+"Yes, indeed! just so, my dear; but Phillips must be asleep as he does
+not answer the bell, and so I thought I would let you out. You are
+young to walk alone: shall I throw a shawl over my cap, and walk down
+the road with you?"
+
+"Not for worlds, my dear Miss Mewlstone;" but Phillis was quite
+touched at this unexpected kindness. Miss Mewlstone did not look
+sleepy now; her small blue eyes were wide open, and her round placid
+face wore a most kindly expression, and there was a tremulous movement
+of her hands, as though they were feeling after something. "It is
+only such a little bit of road; and though the trees make it dark, I
+am not the least afraid of going alone."
+
+"Ah! just so. When we are young, we are brave; it is the old who are
+afraid of the grasshopper. I like your spirit, my dear; and so does
+she, though she is a little taken aback and disappointed; but anything
+that interests and rouses her is welcome. Even this may do her good;
+for it will give her something to think about besides her own
+troubles."
+
+"I have heard of her troubles----" began Phillis; but a moving door
+arrested Miss Mewlstone's attention, and she interrupted her
+hurriedly:
+
+"Ah! there is Phillips at last. Just so; you shall hear from me again.
+It is a gray satin,--one of her presents,--but I have never had it
+made up; for what is the use, when we keep no company?" went on Miss
+Mewlstone incoherently. "Oh! is that you, Phillips? Please go with
+this young lady to the lodge-gate.--You shall make it after your own
+fashion," she whispered in Phillis's ear; "and I am not as particular
+as other people. There is Magdalene now. Ah! just so. Good-night, my
+dear; and mind the scraper by the gate."
+
+Phillis was almost sorry when the obsequious Phillips left her; for
+the road certainly looked terribly dark. There was no moon, and the
+stars chose to be invisible; and there was a hot thundery feeling in
+the air that suggested a storm. And she moved aside with a slight
+sensation of uneasiness--not fear, of course not fear--as a tall,
+gloomy-looking figure bore swiftly down on her; for, even if a girl be
+ever so brave, a very tall man walking fast on a dark night with a
+slouching hat like a conspirator's is rather a terrifying object; and
+how could she know that it was only Archie Drummond in his old
+garden-hat, taking a constitutional?
+
+But he brought himself up in front of her with a sudden jerk.
+
+"Miss Challoner!--alone at this time of night!"
+
+"Why, it is not ten; and I could not wait for Dorothy to fetch me,"
+returned Phillis, bound to defend herself, and quite palpitating with
+relief; not that she was afraid--not a bit of it!--but still, Mr.
+Drummond's presence was very welcome.
+
+"I suppose I shall do as well as Dorothy?" he returned veering round
+with the greatest ease, just as though he were Dick, and bound to
+escort a Challoner. "Challoners' Squire,"--that was Dick's name among
+people.
+
+"Oh poor Dick!" thought Phillis, with a sudden rush of tenderness for
+her old playmate; and then she said, demurely but with a spice of
+malice,--
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Drummond. The road is so gloomy that I shall be glad
+of your escort this evening, but we shall have to do without that sort
+of thing now, for our business may often bring us out after dark, and
+we must learn not to be too particular."
+
+"Oh, this must not be!" he returned, decidedly; and, though it was too
+dark to see his face, she knew by his voice that he was dreadfully
+shocked. "I must see your mother and talk to her about this; for it
+would never do for you to run such risks. I could not allow it for a
+moment; and as your clergyman"--coming down from his high horse, and
+stammering a little,--"I have surely--surely a right----" But Phillis
+snapped him up in a moment, and pretty sharply too, for she had no
+notion of a young man giving himself airs and torturing her.
+
+"Oh, no right at all!" she assured him: "clergymen could only rebuke
+evil-doers, to which class she and her sisters did not belong, thank
+heaven!" to which Mr. Drummond devoutly said an "amen." "And would he
+please tell her if dressmakers were always met two and two, like the
+animals in the ark? and how would it sound when she or Nan had been
+fitting on a dress, on a winter's evening, if they were to refuse to
+leave the house until Dorothy fetched them? and how----" But here Mr.
+Drummond checked her, and the darkness hid his smile.
+
+"Now you are beyond me, Miss Challoner. In a matter of detail, a man,
+even a parson, is often at fault. Is there no other way of managing
+this odious business? Forgive me; the word slipped out by accident!
+Could you not do the fitting, or whatever you call it, by daylight,
+and stay at home quietly in the evening like other young ladies?"
+
+"Of course not," returned Phillis, promptly. She had not the least
+idea why it could not be done; indeed, if she had been perfectly
+cool--which she was not, for Mrs. Cheyne had decidedly stroked her the
+wrong way and ruffled her past endurance--she would have appreciated
+the temperate counsel vouchsafed her, and acquiesced in it without a
+murmur; but now she seemed bent on contradiction.
+
+"Our opinions seem to clash to-night," returned Mr. Drummond,
+good-humoredly, but feeling that the young lady beside him had
+decidedly a will of her own. "She is very nice, but she is not as
+gentle as her sister," he said to himself; which was hard on Phillis,
+who, though she was not meek, being a girl of spirit, was wholesomely
+sweet and sound to the heart's core.
+
+"One may be supposed to know one's business best," she replied rather
+dryly to this. And then, fearing that she might seem ungracious to a
+stranger, who did not know her and her little ways, she went on in a
+more cordial tone: "I am afraid you think me a little cross to-night;
+but I have been having a stand-up fight, and am rather tired. Trying
+to battle against other people's prejudices makes one irritable. And
+then, because I am down and out of heart about things, our clergyman
+thinks fit to lecture me on propriety."
+
+"Only for your good. You must forgive me if I have taken too much upon
+myself," returned Mr. Drummond, with much compunction. "You seem so
+lonely,--no father or brother; at least--pardon me--I believe you have
+no brother?"
+
+"Oh, no; we have no brother," sighed Phillis. Their acquaintance was
+in too early a stage to warrant her in bringing in Dick's name.
+Besides, that sort of heterogeneous relationship is so easily
+misconstrued. And then she added, "I see. You meant to be very kind,
+and I was very ungrateful."
+
+"I only wish I could find some way of helping you all," was his reply
+to this. But it was said with such frank kindness that Phillis's brief
+haughtiness vanished. They were standing at the gate of the Friary by
+this time; but Mr. Drummond still lingered. It was Phillis who
+dismissed him.
+
+"Good-night, and many thanks," she said, brightly. "It is too late to
+ask you in, for you see, even dressmakers have their notions of
+propriety." And as she uttered this malicious little speech, the young
+man broke into a laugh that was heard by Dorothy in her little
+kitchen.
+
+"Oh, that is too bad of you, Miss Challoner," he said, as soon as he
+recovered himself; but, nevertheless, he liked the girl better for her
+little joke.
+
+Mr. Drummond's constitutional had lasted so long that Mattie grew
+quite frightened, and came down in her drab dressing-gown to wait for
+him. It was not a becoming costume, but it was warm and comfortable;
+but then Mattie never considered what became her. If any one had
+admired her, or cared how she looked or what she wore, or had taken an
+interest in her for her own sake, she would doubtless have developed
+an honest liking for pretty things. But what did it matter under the
+present circumstances? Mr. Drummond was lighting his chamber candle
+when Mattie rushed out on him,--a grotesque little figure, all capes
+and frills.
+
+"Oh, Archie, how you frightened me! Where have you been?"
+
+Archie shrugged his shoulders at this.
+
+"I am not aware, Matilda,"--for in severe moods he would call her by
+her full name, a thing she especially disliked from him,--"I did not
+know before that I was accountable to you for my actions. Neither am I
+particularly obliged to you for spying upon me in this way." For the
+sight of Mattie at this time of night was peculiarly distasteful. Why
+was he to be watched in his own house?
+
+"Oh, dear, Archie! How can you say such things? Spy on you, indeed!
+when there is a storm coming up, and I was so anxious."
+
+"I am very much obliged to you," returned Archie, ironically; "but, as
+you see I am safe, don't you think you had better take off that
+thing"--pointing to the obnoxious garment--"and go to bed?" And such
+was his tone that poor Mattie fled without a word, and cried a little
+in her dark room, because Archie would not be kind to her and let her
+love him, but was always finding fault with one trifle or other.
+To-night it was her poor old dressing-gown, which had been her
+mother's, and had been considered good enough for Mattie. And then he
+had called her a spy. And here she gave a sob that caught Archie's
+ears as he passed her door.
+
+"Good-night, you little goose!" he called out, for the sound made him
+uncomfortable; and though the words were contemptuous, the voice was
+not, and Mattie at once dried her eyes and was comforted.
+
+But before Archie went to sleep that night he made up his mind that it
+was his duty as a clergyman and a Christian to look over Phillis's
+wilfulness, and to befriend to the utmost of his power the strangers,
+widow and fatherless, that Providence had placed at his very gates.
+
+"They are so very lonely, poor things!" he said to himself; "not a
+man about them. By the bye, I noticed she did not wear an
+engagement-ring." But which was the "she" he meant, was an enigma
+known only to himself. "Not a man about them!" he repeated, in a
+satisfied manner, for as yet the name of Dick had not sounded in his
+ear.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+BREAKING THE PEACE.
+
+
+Nan went to Beach House to fetch her mother home, escorted by Laddie,
+who was growing a most rollicking and friendly little animal, and a
+great consolation to his mistress, whom he loved with all his doggish
+heart.
+
+They all three came back in an old fly belonging to their late host,
+and found Phillis waiting for them on the door-step, who made her
+mother the following little speech:
+
+"Now, mammie, you are to kiss us, and tell us what good industrious
+girls we have been; and then you are to shut your eyes and look at
+nothing, and then sit down in your old arm-chair, and try and make the
+best of everything."
+
+"Welcome home, dearest mother," said Nan, softly kissing her. "Home is
+home, however poor it may be; and thank God for it," finished the
+girl, reverently.
+
+"Oh, my darlings!" exclaimed the poor mother; and then she cried a
+little, and Dulce came up and put a rose-bud in her hand; and Dorothy
+executed an old-fashioned courtsey, and hoped that her mistress and
+the dear young ladies would try and make themselves as happy as
+possible.
+
+"Happy, you silly old Dorothy! of course we mean to be as busy as
+bees, and as frolicsome as kittens!" returned Phillis, who had
+recovered her old sprightliness, and was ready to-day for a dozen Mrs.
+Cheynes and all the clergy of the diocese. "Now, mammie, you are only
+to peep into this room: this is our work-room, and those are the
+curtains Mr. Drummond was kind enough to hang. In old days," continued
+Phillis, with mock solemnity, "the parson would have pronounced a
+benediction; but the modern Anglican performs another function, and
+with much gravity ascends the steps, and hooks up the curtains of the
+new-comers."
+
+"Oh, Phillis, how can you be so absurd! I am sure it was very
+good-natured of him. Come, mother, dear, we will not stand here
+listening to her nonsense." And Nan drew the mother to the parlor.
+
+It was a very small room, but still snug and comfortable, and full of
+pretty things. Tea was laid on the little round table that would
+hardly hold five, as Nan once observed, thinking of Dick; and the
+evening's sunshine was stealing in, but not too obtrusively. Mrs.
+Challoner tried not to think it dull, and endeavored to say a word of
+praise at the arrangements Dulce pointed out to her; but the thought
+of Glen Cottage, and her pretty drawing-room, and the veranda with its
+climbing roses, and the shady lawn with the seat under the
+acacia-trees, almost overpowered her. That they should come to this!
+That they should be sitting in this mean little parlor, where there
+was hardly room to move, looking out at the little strip of grass, and
+the medlar-tree, and the empty greenhouse! Nan saw her mother's lip
+quiver, and adroitly turned the subject to their neighbors. She had so
+much to say about Mr. Drummond and his sister that Mrs. Challoner grew
+quite interested; nevertheless, it was a surprise even to Nan when
+Dorothy presently opened the door, and Mr. Drummond coolly walked in
+with a magnificent basket of roses in his hand.
+
+Nan gravely introduced him to her mother, and the young man accosted
+her; but there was a little surprise on his face. He had taken it into
+his head that Mrs. Challoner would be a far older-looking and more
+homely person; but the stately-looking woman before him might have
+been an older and faded edition of Nan. Somehow, her appearance
+confused him; and he commenced with an apology for his intrusion:
+
+"I ought not to have been so unceremonious. I am afraid, as you have
+just arrived, my visit will seem an intrusion; but my sister thought
+you would like some of our roses,"--he had obliged poor Mattie to say
+so,--"and, as we had cut some fine ones, we thought you ought to have
+them while they are fresh."
+
+"Thank you; this is very kind and neighborly," returned Mrs.
+Challoner; but, though her tone was perfectly civil, Nan thought her
+manner a little cold, and hastened to interpose with a few glowing
+words of admiration.
+
+"The roses were lovely; they were finer than those at Longmead, or
+even at Fitzroy Lodge, though Lady Fitzroy prided herself on her
+roses." Archie pricked up his ears at this latter name, which escaped
+quite involuntarily from Nan. "And was it not good of Miss Drummond to
+spare them so many, and of Mr. Drummond to carry them?" all of which
+Nan said with a sweet graciousness that healed the young man's
+embarrassment in a moment.
+
+"Yes, indeed!" echoed Mrs. Challoner, obedient, as usual, to her
+daughter's lead. "And you must thank your sister, Mr. Drummond, and
+tell her how fond my girls are of flowers." But, though Mrs. Challoner
+said this, the roses were not without thorns for her. Why had not Miss
+Drummond brought them herself? She was pleased indeed that, under
+existing circumstances, any one should be civil to her girls; but was
+there not a little patronage intended? She was not quite sure that she
+rejoiced in having such neighbors. Mr. Drummond was nice and
+gentlemanly, but he was far too young and handsome for an unmarried
+clergyman; at least, that was her old-fashioned opinion; and when one
+has three very good-looking daughters, and dreads the idea of losing
+one, one may be pardoned for distrusting even a basket of roses.
+
+If Mr. Drummond perceived her slight coldness, he seemed quite
+determined to overcome it. He took small notice of Nan, who busied
+herself at once arranging the flowers under his eyes; even Phillis,
+who looked good and demure this evening, failed to obtain a word. He
+talked almost exclusively to Mrs. Challoner, plying her with artful
+questions about their old home, which he now learned was at Oldfield,
+and gaining scraps of information that enabled him to obtain a pretty
+clear insight into their present circumstances.
+
+Mrs. Challoner, who was a soft hearted woman, was not proof against so
+much sympathy. She perceived that Mr. Drummond was sorry for them, and
+she began to warm a little towards him. His manner was so respectful,
+his words so discreet; and then he behaved so nicely, taking no notice
+of the girls, though Nan was looking so pretty, but just talking to
+her in a grave responsible way, as though he were a gray-haired man of
+sixty.
+
+Phillis was not quite sure she approved of it: in the old days she had
+never been so excluded from conversation: she would have liked a word
+now and then. But Nan sat by quite contented: it pleased her to see
+her mother roused and interested.
+
+When Mr. Drummond took his leave, she accompanied him to the door, and
+thanked him quite warmly.
+
+"You have done her so much good, for this first evening is such a
+trial to her, poor thing!" said Nan, lifting her lovely eyes to the
+young man's face.
+
+"I am so glad! I will come again," he said, rather incoherently. And
+as he went out of the green door he told himself that it was his clear
+duty to befriend this interesting family. He ought to have gone home
+and written to Grace, for it was long past the time when she always
+expected to hear from him. But the last day or two he had rather
+shirked this duty. It would be difficult to explain to Grace. She
+might be rather shocked, for she was a little prim in such things,
+being her mother's daughter. He thought he would ask Mattie to tell
+her about the Challoners, and that he was busy and would write soon;
+and when he had made up his mind to this, he went down to the
+sea-shore and amused himself by sitting on a breakwater and staring at
+the fishing-smacks,--which of course showed how very busy he was.
+
+"I think I shall like Mr. Drummond," observed Mrs. Challoner, in a
+tolerant tone, when Nan had accompanied the young vicar to the door.
+"He seems an earnest, good sort of young man."
+
+"Yes, mammie dear. And I am sure he has fallen in love with you,"
+returned Phillis, naughtily, "for he talked to no one else. And you
+are so young-looking and pretty that of course no one could be
+surprised if he did." But though Mrs. Challoner said, "Oh, Phillis!"
+and looked dreadfully shocked in a proper matronly way, what was the
+use of that, when the mischievous girl burst out laughing in her
+face?
+
+But the interruption had done them all good, and the evening passed
+less heavily than they had dared to hope. And when Mrs. Challoner
+complained of fatigue and retired early, escorted by Dorothy, who was
+dying for a chat with her mistress, the three girls went out in the
+garden, and walked, after their old fashion, arm in arm up and down
+the lawn, with Nan in the middle; though Dulce pouted and pretended
+that the lawn was too narrow, and that Phillis was pushing her on the
+gravel path.
+
+Their mother's window was open, and they could have heard snatches of
+Dorothy's conversation if they had chosen to listen. Dulce stood still
+a moment, and wafted a little kiss towards her mother's room.
+
+"Dear old mamsie! She has been very good this evening, has she not,
+Nan? She has only cried the least wee bit, when you kissed her."
+
+"Yes, indeed. And somebody else has been good too. What do you say,
+Phillis? Has not Dulce been the best child possible?"
+
+"Oh, Nan, I should be ashamed to be otherwise," returned Dulce, in
+such an earnest manner that it made her sisters laugh, "Do you think I
+could see you both so good and cheerful, making the best of things,
+and never complaining, even when the tears are in your eyes,--as yours
+are often, Nan, when you think no one is looking,--and not try and
+copy your example? I am dreadfully proud of you both,--that is what I
+am," continued the warm-hearted girl. "I never knew before what was in
+my sisters. And now I feel as though I want the whole world to come
+and admire my Phillis and Nan!"
+
+"Little flatterer!" but Nan squeezed Dulce's arm affectionately. And
+Phillis said, in a joking tone,--
+
+"Ah, it was not half so bad. This evening there was mother looking so
+dear and pretty: and there were you girls; and, though the nest is
+small, it feels warm and cosy. And if we could only forget Glen
+Cottage, and leave off missing the old faces, which I never shall--"
+("Nor I," echoed Nan, with a deep sigh, fetched from somewhere)--"and
+root ourselves afresh, we should contrive not to be unhappy."
+
+"I think it is our duty to cultivate cheerfulness," added Nan,
+seriously; and after this they fell to a discussion on ways and means.
+As usual, Phillis was chief spokeswoman, but to Nan belonged the
+privilege of the casting vote.
+
+The next few days were weary ones to Mrs. Challoner: there was still
+much to be done before the Friary could be pronounced in order. The
+girls spent most of the daylight hours unpacking boxes, sorting and
+arranging their treasures, and, if the truth must be told, helping
+Dorothy to polish furniture and wash glass and china.
+
+Mrs. Challoner, who was not strong enough for these household labors,
+found herself condemned to hem new dusters and mend old table-linen,
+to the tune of her own sad thoughts. Mr. Drummond found her sorting a
+little heap on the parlor table when he dropped in casually one
+morning,--this time with some very fine cherries that his sister
+thought Mrs. Challoner would enjoy.
+
+When Mr. Drummond began his little speech he could have sworn that
+there were tears on the poor lady's cheeks; but when he had finished
+she looked up at him with a smile, and thanked him warmly, and then
+they had quite a nice chat together.
+
+Mr. Drummond's visit was quite a godsend, she told him, for her girls
+were busy and had no time to talk to her; and "one's thoughts are not
+always pleasant companions," she added, with a sigh. And Mr. Drummond,
+who had caught sight of the tears, was at once sympathetic, and
+expressed himself in such feeling terms--for he was more at ease in
+the girls' absence--that Mrs. Challoner opened out in the most
+confiding way, and told him a great deal that he had been anxious to
+learn.
+
+But she soon found out, to her dismay, that he disapproved of her
+girls' plans; for he told her so at once, and in the coolest manner.
+The opportunity for airing his views on the subject was far too good
+to be lost. Mrs. Challoner was alone; she was in a low, dejected mood;
+the rulers of the household were gathered in an upper chamber. What
+would Phillis have said, as she warbled a rather flat accompaniment to
+Nan's "Bonnie Dundee," which she was singing to keep up their spirits
+over a piece of hard work, if she had known that Mr. Drummond was at
+that moment in possession of her mother's ear?
+
+"Oh, Mr. Drummond, this is very sad, if every one should think as you
+do about my poor girls! and Phillis does so object to being called
+romantic;" for he had hinted in a gentlemanly way that he thought the
+whole scheme was crude and girlish and quixotic to a degree.
+
+"I hope you will not tell her, then," returned Mr. Drummond in a
+soothing tone, for Mrs. Challoner was beginning to look agitated. "I
+am afraid nothing I say will induce Miss Challoner to give up her pet
+scheme; but I felt, as your clergyman, it was my duty to let you know
+my opinion." And here Archie looked so very solemn that Mrs.
+Challoner, being a weak woman, and apt to overvalue the least
+expression of masculine opinion, grew more and more alarmed.
+
+"Oh, yes!" she faltered; "it is very good--very nice of you to tell me
+this." Phillis would have laughed in his face and Mrs. Cheyne would
+have found something to say about his youth; but in Mrs. Challoner's
+eyes, though she was an older woman, Archie's solemnity and Oriental
+beard carried tremendous weight with them. He might be young,
+nevertheless she was bound to listen meekly to him, and to respect his
+counsel as one who had a certain authority over her. "Oh, you are very
+good! and if only my girls had not made up their minds so quickly! but
+now what can I do but feel very uncomfortable after you have told me
+this?"
+
+"Oh, as to that, there is always time for everything; it is never too
+late to mend," returned Mr. Drummond, tritely. "I meant from the first
+to tell you what I thought, if I should ever have an opportunity of
+speaking to you alone. You see, we Oxford men have our own notions
+about things: we do not always go with the tide. If your daughters--"
+here he hesitated and grew red, for he was a modest, honest young
+fellow in the main--"pardon me, but I am only proposing an
+hypothesis--if they wanted to make a sensation and get themselves
+talked about, no doubt they would achieve a success, for the
+novelty----" But here he stopped, reduced to silence by the shocked
+expression of Mrs. Challoner's face.
+
+"Mr. Drummond! my girls--make a sensation--be talked about?" she
+gasped; and all the spirit of her virtuous matronhood, and all the
+instinctive feeling that years of culture and ingrained refinement of
+nature had engendered, shone in her eyes. Her Nan and Phillis and
+Dulce to draw this on themselves!
+
+Now, at this unlucky moment, when the maternal fires were all alight,
+who should enter but Phillis, wanting "pins, and dozens of
+them,--quickly, please," and still warbling flatly that refrain of
+"Bonnie Dundee!"
+
+"Oh, Phillis! Oh, my darling child!" cried Mrs. Challoner, quite
+hysterically; "do you know what your clergyman says? and if he should
+say such things, what will be the world's opinion? No, Mr. Drummond, I
+did not mean to be angry. Of course you are telling us this for our
+good; but I do not know when I have been so shocked."
+
+"Why, what is this?" demanded Phillis, calmly; but she fixed her eyes
+on the unlucky clergyman, who began to wish that that last speech had
+not been uttered.
+
+"He says it is to make a sensation--to be talked about--that you are
+going to do this," gasped Mrs. Challoner, who was far too much upset
+to weigh words truly.
+
+"What!" Phillis only uttered that very unmeaning monosyllable:
+nevertheless, Archie jumped from his seat as though he had been shot.
+
+"Mrs. Challoner, really this is too bad! No, you must allow me to
+explain," as Phillis turned aside with a curling lip, as though she
+would leave them. He actually went between her and the door, as though
+he meant to prevent her egress forcibly. There is no knowing to what
+lengths he would have gone in his sudden agitation. "Only wait a
+moment, until I explain myself. Your mother has misunderstood me
+altogether. Never has such a thought entered my mind!"
+
+"Oh," observed Phillis. But now she stood still and began to collect
+her pins out of her mother's basket. "Perhaps, as this is rather
+unpleasant, you will have the kindness to tell me what it was you said
+to my mother?" And she spoke like a young princess who had just
+received an insult.
+
+"I desire nothing more," returned Archie, determined to defend himself
+at all costs. "I had been speaking to Mrs. Challoner about all this
+unfortunate business. She was good enough to repose confidence in me,
+and, as your clergyman, I felt myself bound to tell her exactly my
+opinions on the subject."
+
+"I do not quite see the necessity; but no doubt you know best," was
+Phillis's somewhat sarcastic answer.
+
+"At least, I did it for the best," returned the young man, humbly. "I
+pointed out things to Mrs. Challoner, as I told you I should. I warned
+her what the world would say,--that it would regard your plan as very
+singular and perhaps quixotic. Surely there is nothing in this to
+offend you?"
+
+"You have not touched on the worst part of all," returned Phillis,
+with a little disdain in her voice. "About making a sensation, I
+mean."
+
+"There it was that your mother so entirely misunderstood. What I said
+was this: If this dressmaking scheme were undertaken just to make a
+sensation, it would of course, achieve success, for I thought the
+novelty might take. And then I added that I was merely stating an
+hypothesis by way of argument, and then Mrs. Challoner looked shocked,
+and you came in."
+
+"Is that all?" asked Phillis, coming down from her stilts at once, for
+she knew of old how her mother would confuse things sometimes; and, if
+this were the truth, she, Phillis, had been rather too hard on him.
+
+"Yes. Do you see now any necessity for quarrelling with me?" returned
+Mr. Drummond, breathing a little more freely as the frown lessened on
+Phillis's face. He wanted to be friends with these girls, not to turn
+them against him.
+
+"Well, no, I believe not," she answered, quite gravely. "And I am sure
+I beg your pardon if I was rude." But this Archie would not allow for
+a moment.
+
+"But, Mr. Drummond, one word before peace is quite restored," went on
+Phillis, with something of her old archness, "or else I will fetch my
+sisters, and you will have three of us against you."
+
+"Oh, do, Phillis, my dear," interrupted her mother; "let them come and
+hear what Mr. Drummond thinks."
+
+"Mammy, how dare you!--how dare you be so contumacious, after all the
+trouble we have taken to set your dear fidgety mind at rest? Just look
+what you have done, Mr. Drummond," turning upon him. "Now I am not
+going to forgive you, and we will not trust the mother out of our
+sight, unless you promise not to say this sort of thing to her when we
+are not here to answer them."
+
+"But, Miss Challoner, my pastoral conscience!" but his eyes twinkled a
+little.
+
+"Oh, never mind that!" she retorted, mischievously. "I will give you
+leave to lecture us collectively, but not individually: that must not
+be thought about for a moment." She had not a notion what the queer
+expression on Mr. Drummond's face meant, and he did not know himself;
+but he had the strongest desire to laugh at this.
+
+They parted after this the best of friends; and Phillis tasted the
+cherries, and pronounced them very good.
+
+"You have quite forgiven me?" Mr. Drummond said, as she accompanied
+him to the door before rejoining her sisters. "You know I have
+promised not to do it again until the next time."
+
+"Oh, we shall see about that!" returned Phillis, good-humoredly.
+"Forewarned is forearmed; and there is a triple alliance against
+you."
+
+"Good heavens, what mockery it seems! I never saw such girls,--never!"
+thought Mr. Drummond, as he took long strides down the road. "But
+Mattie is right: they mean business, and nothing in the world would
+change that girl's determination if she had set herself to carry a
+thing out. I never knew a stronger will!" And in this he was tolerably
+right.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+"TRIMMINGS, NOT SQUAILS."
+
+
+The longest week must have an end; and so at last the eventful Monday
+morning arrived,--"Black Monday," as Dulce called it, and then sighed
+as she looked out on the sunshine and the waving trees, and thought
+how delicious a long walk or a game of tennis would be, instead of
+stitch, stitch, stitching all day. But Dulce was an unselfish little
+soul, and kept all these thoughts to herself, and dressed herself
+quickly; for she had overslept herself, and Phillis had long been
+downstairs.
+
+Nan was locking up the tea-caddy as she entered the parlor, and
+Phillis was standing by the table, drawing on her gloves, and her lips
+were twitching a little,--a way they had when Phillis was nervous.
+
+Nan went up and kissed her, and gave her an encouraging pat.
+
+"This is for luck, my dear; and mind you make the best of poor Miss
+Milner's dumpy, roundabout little figure. There I have put the
+body-lining, and the measuring-tape, and a paper of pins in this
+little black bag; and I have not forgotten the scissors,--oh, dear,
+no! I have not forgotten the scissors," went on Nan, with such
+surprising cheerfulness that Phillis saw through it, and was down on
+her in a moment.
+
+"No, Nan; there! I declare I will not be such a goose. I am not
+nervous,--not one bit; it is pure fun, that's what it is. Dulce, what
+a naughty child you are to oversleep yourself this morning, and I had
+not the heart to wake you, you looked so like a baby: and we never
+wake babies because they are sure to squall!"
+
+"Oh, Phil, are you going to Miss Milner's? I would have walked with
+you if I had had my breakfast; but I am so hungry."
+
+"I could not possibly wait," returned Phillis; "punctuality is one of
+the first duties of--hem!--dressmakers; all orders executed promptly,
+and promises performed with undeviating regularity: those are my
+maxims. Eat a good breakfast, and then see if mammy wants any help,
+for Nan must be ready for me at the work-table, for she is our head
+cutter-out." And then Phillis nodded briskly, and walked away.
+
+By a singular chance, Mr. Drummond was watering his ferns in the front
+court as Phillis passed, and in spite of her reluctance, for somehow
+he was the last person she wanted to encounter that day, she was
+obliged to wish him good-morning.
+
+"Good-morning! Yes, indeed, it is a glorious morning," observed
+Archie, brightly. "And may I ask where you are going so early?"
+
+"Only to the Library," returned Phillis, laconically; but the color
+mounted to her forehead. "We begin business to-day."
+
+And then Archie took up his watering-pot and refrained from any more
+questions. It was absurd, perhaps, but at the moment he had forgotten,
+and the remembrance was not pleasing.
+
+Phillis felt quite brave after this, and walked into the Library as
+though the place belonged to her. When it came to details, Miss Milner
+was far more nervous than she.
+
+She would keep apologizing to Phillis for making her stand so long,
+and she wanted to hold the pins and to pick up the scissors that
+Phillis had dropped; and when the young dressmaker consulted her about
+the trimmings, she was far too humble to intrude her opinions.
+
+"Anything you think best, Miss Challoner, for you have such beautiful
+taste as never was seen; and I am sure the way you have fitted that
+body-lining is just wonderful, and would be a lesson to Miss Slasher
+for life. No, don't put the pins in your mouth, there's a dear."
+
+For, in her intense zeal, Phillis had thought herself bound to follow
+the manner of Mrs. Sloper, the village factotum, and she always did
+so, though Nan afterwards assured her that it was not necessary, and
+that in this particular they might be allowed to deviate from
+example.
+
+But she was quite proud of herself when she had finished, for the
+material seemed to mould under her fingers in the most marvellous way,
+and she knew the fit would be perfect. She wanted to rush off at once
+and set to work with Nan; but Miss Milner would not let her off so
+easily. There was orange wine and seed-cake of her own making in the
+back parlor, and she had just one question--a very little question--to
+ask. And here Miss Milner coughed a little behind her hand to gain
+time and recover her courage.
+
+"The little papers were about the shop, and Mrs. Trimmings saw one,
+and--and----" Here Phillis came promptly to her relief.
+
+"And Mrs. Trimmings wants to order a dress, does she?" And Phillis
+bravely kept down the sudden sinking of heart at the news.
+
+Mrs. Trimmings was the butcher's wife,--the sister of that very Mrs.
+Squails of whom Dulce once made mention,--well known to be the
+dressiest woman in Hadleigh, who was much given to imitate her
+betters. The newest fashions, the best materials, were always to be
+found on Mrs. Trimmings's portly figure.
+
+"What could I do?" observed Miss Milner, apologetically: "the papers
+were about the shop, and what does the woman do but take one up? 'I
+wonder what sort of dressmakers these are?' she said, careless-like;
+'there is my new blue silk that Andrew brought himself from London
+and paid five-and-sixpence a yard for in St. Paul's Churchyard; and I
+daren't let Miss Slasher have it, for she made such a mess of that
+French merino. She had to let it out at every seam before I could get
+into it, and it is so tight for me now that I shall be obliged to cut
+it up for Mary Anne. I wonder if I dare try these new people?"
+
+"And what did you say, Miss Milner?"
+
+"What could I do then, my dear young lady, but speak up and say the
+best I could for you? for though Mrs. Trimmings is not high,--not one
+of the gentry, I mean,--and has a rough tongue sometimes, still she
+knows what good stuff and good cutting-out means, and a word from her
+might do you a power of good among the townfolks, for her gowns are
+always after the best patterns."
+
+"All right!" returned Phillis, cheerfully: "one must creep before one
+runs, and, until the gentry employ us, we ought to think ourselves
+fortunate to work for the townpeople. I am not a bit above making a
+dress for Mrs. Trimmings, though I would rather make one for you, Miss
+Milner, because you have been so kind to us."
+
+"There, now! didn't I say there never were such young ladies!"
+exclaimed Miss Milner, quite affected at this. "Well, if you are sure
+you don't mind, Miss Challoner dear, will you please go to Mrs.
+Trimmings's this morning? for though I told her my dress was to be
+finished first, still Trimmings's isn't a stone's-throw from here; and
+you may as well settle a thing when you are about it."
+
+"And I will take the silk, Miss Milner, if you will kindly let me have
+a nice piece of brown paper."
+
+"Indeed and you will do no such thing, Miss Challoner; and there is
+Joseph going down with the papers to Mr. Drummond's, and will leave it
+at the Friary as he passes."
+
+"Oh, thank you," observed Phillis, gratefully. "Then I will pencil a
+word to my sister, to let her know why I am detained." And she
+scrawled a line to Nan:
+
+"Trimmings, not Squails: here beginneth the first chapter. Expect me
+when you see me, and do nothing until I come."
+
+There was no side-door at Trimmings's, and Mrs. Trimmings was at the
+desk, jotting down legs of mutton, and entries of gravy-beef and suet,
+with a rapidity that would have tried the brain of any other woman
+than a butcher's wife.
+
+When Phillis approached, she looked up at her suavely, expecting
+custom.
+
+"Just half a moment, ma'am," she said, civilly. "Yes, Joe, wing-rib
+and half of suet to Mrs. Penfold, and a loin of lamb and sweet-bread
+for No. 12, Albert Terrace. Now, ma'am, what can I do for you?"
+
+"I have only come about your dress, Mrs. Trimmings," returned Phillis,
+in a very small voice; and then she tried not to laugh, as Mrs.
+Trimmings regarded her with a broad stare of astonishment, which took
+her in comprehensively, hat, dress, and neat dogskin gloves.
+
+"You might have taken up my pen and knocked me down with it," was Mrs.
+Trimmings's graphic description of her feelings afterwards, as she
+carved a remarkably fine loin of veal, with a knuckle of ham and some
+kidney-beans to go with it. "There was the colonel standing by the
+desk, Andrew; and he turned right round and looked at us both. 'I've
+come about your dress, Mrs. Trimmings,' she said, as pertlike as
+possible. Law, I thought I should have dropped, I was that taken
+aback."
+
+Phillis's feelings were none of the pleasantest when Colonel Middleton
+turned round and looked at her. There was an expression almost of
+sorrow in the old man's eyes, as he so regarded her, which made her
+feel hot and uncomfortable. It was a relief when Mrs. Trimmings roused
+from her stupefaction and bustled out of the desk.
+
+"This way, miss," she said, with a jerk of her comely head. But her
+tone changed a little, and became at once sharp and familiar. "I hope
+you understand your business, for I never could abide waste; and the
+way Miss Slasher cut into that gray merino,--and it only just meets,
+so to say,--and the breadths are as scanty as possible; and it would
+go to my heart to have a beautiful piece of silk spoiled,
+flve-and-sixpence a yard, and not a flaw in it."
+
+"If I thought I should spoil your dress I would not undertake it,"
+returned Phillis, gently. She felt she must keep herself perfectly
+quiet with this sort of people. "My sister and I have just made up
+some very pretty silk and cashmere costumes, and they fitted as
+perfectly as possible."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" observed Mrs. Trimmings, in a patronizing tone. She had
+no idea that the costumes of which Phillis spoke had been worn by the
+young dressmakers at one of Lady Fitzroy's afternoon parties. She was
+not quite at her ease with Phillis; she thought her a little
+high-and-mighty in her manner. "A uppish young person," as she said
+afterwards; "but her grand airs made no sort of difference to me, I
+can assure you."
+
+There was no holding pins or picking up scissors in this case. On the
+contrary, Mrs. Trimmings watched with a vigilant eye, and was ready to
+pounce on Phillis at the least mistake or oversight, seeing which
+Phillis grew cooler and more off-hand every moment. There was a great
+deal of haggling over the cut of the sleeve and arrangement of the
+drapery. "If you will kindly leave it to me," Phillis said once; but
+nothing was further from Mrs. Trimmings's intention. She had not a
+silk dress every day. And she had always been accustomed to settle all
+these points herself, while Miss Slasher had stood by humbly turning
+over the pages of her fashion-books, and calling her, at every
+sentence, "Ma'am," a word that Phillis's lips had not yet uttered.
+Phillis's patience was almost tired out, when she was at last allowed
+to depart with a large brown-paper parcel under her arm. Mrs.
+Trimmings would have wrapped it up in newspaper, but Phillis had so
+curtly refused to have anything but brown paper that her manner rather
+overawed the woman.
+
+Poor Phillis! Yes, it had really come to pass, and here she was,
+actually walking through Hadleigh in the busiest time of the day, with
+a large, ugly-looking parcel and a little black bag! She had thought
+of sending Dorothy for the dress, but she knew what a trial it would
+have been to the old woman to see one of her young ladies reduced to
+this, and she preferred ladening herself to hurting the poor old
+creature's feelings. So she walked out bravely in her best style. But
+nevertheless her shapely neck would turn itself now and then from side
+to side, as though in dread of some familiar face. And there were
+little pin-pricks all over her of irritation and mortified self-love.
+"A thing is all very well in theory, but it may be tough in practice,"
+she said to herself. And she felt an irresistible desire to return the
+offending dress to that odious Trimmings and tell her she would have
+nothing to do with her,--"a disagreeable old cat," I am afraid Phillis
+called her, for one is not always charitable and civil-spoken in one's
+thoughts.
+
+"We are going the same way. May I carry that formidable-looking parcel
+for you?" asked a voice that was certainly becoming very familiar.
+
+Poor Phillis started and blushed; but she looked more annoyed than
+pleased at the rencontre.
+
+"Mr. Drummond, are you omnipresent?--one is forever encountering you!"
+she said, quite pettishly; but, when Archie only laughed, and tried to
+obtain possession of the parcel, she resisted, and would have none of
+his assistance.
+
+"Oh, dear, no!" she said: "I could not think of such a thing! Fancy
+the vicar of Hadleigh condescending to carry home Mrs. Trimmings's
+dress!"
+
+"Mrs. Trimmings's dress?" repeated Mr. Drummond, in a rapid crescendo.
+"Oh, Miss Challoner! I declare this beats everything!"
+
+Phillis threw him a glance. She meant it to be cool, but she could not
+keep the sadness out of her eyes; they did so contradict the assumed
+lightness of her words:
+
+"Miss Milner was far more considerate: she made Joseph carry hers to
+the Friary when he left your papers. Was he not a benevolent Joseph?
+Mrs. Trimmings wanted to wrap up her silk in newspaper; but I said to
+myself, 'One must draw the line somewhere;' and so I held out for
+brown paper. Do you think you could have offered to carry a parcel in
+newspaper, Mr. Drummond? Oh, by the bye, how can you condescend to
+walk with a dressmaker? But this is a quiet road, and no one will see
+you."
+
+"Pardon me if I contradict you, but there is Colonel Middleton looking
+over his garden palings this moment," returned Mr. Drummond, who had
+just become painfully aware of the fact.
+
+"Don't you think you had better go and speak to him, then? for you see
+I am in no need of help," retorted Phillis, who was sore all over, and
+wanted to get rid of him, and yet would have been offended if he had
+taken her at her word. But Mr. Drummond, who felt his position an
+uncomfortable one, and was dreadfully afraid of the colonel's banter,
+was not mean enough to take advantage of her dismissal. He had joined
+himself to her company out of pure good nature, for it was a hot day
+and the parcel was heavy, but she would have none of his assistance.
+
+So he only waved his hand to his friend, who took off his old felt hat
+very solemnly in return, and watched them with a grieved expression
+until they were out of sight.
+
+"Now I will bid you good-bye," he said, when they had reached the
+vicarage.
+
+Phillis said nothing; but she held out her hand, and there was a
+certain brightness in her eyes that showed she was pleased.
+
+"He is a gentleman, every inch of him; and I won't quarrel with him
+any more," she thought, as she walked up to the Friary. "Oh, how nice
+it would have been if we were still at Glen Cottage and he could see
+us at our best, and we were able to entertain him in our old fashion!
+How Carrie and the other girls would have liked him! and how jealous
+Dick would have been! for he never liked our bringing strange young
+men to the house, and always found fault with them if he could," and
+here Phillis sighed, and for the moment Mrs. Trimmings was forgotten.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+"BRAVO, ATALANTA!"
+
+
+Phillis received quite an ovation as soon as she crossed the
+threshold. Dulce, who was listening for her footsteps, rushed out into
+the little hall, and dragged her in, as though she were too weary to
+have any movement or volition of her own. And then Nan came up, in her
+calm elder-sisterly way, and put her arm round her, and hoped she was
+not so very tired, and there was so much to say, and so much to do,
+and she wanted her advice, and so on.
+
+And on Nan's forehead lay a thoughtful pucker; and on the centre-table
+were sundry breadths of green silk, crisp-looking and faintly bronzed,
+like withered leaves with the sun on them.
+
+"Oh, dear! has Miss Drummond been here in my absence?" asked Phillis,
+with the overwhelmed feeling of a beginner, who has not yet learned to
+separate and classify, or the rich value of odd moments. "Three
+dresses to be done at once!"
+
+"One at a time. But never mind Miss Drummond's this moment. Mother is
+safe in the store-cupboard for the next half-hour, and we want to know
+what you mean by your ridiculous message, 'Trimmings, not Squails.'
+Dulce is dying of curiosity, and so am I."
+
+"Yes; but she looks so hot and tired that she must refresh herself
+first." And Dulce placed on her sister's lap a plate of yellow plums,
+perfectly bedded in moss, which had come from the vicarage garden. And
+as Phillis enjoyed the dainty repast and poured out her morning's
+experiences in the ears of her astonished auditors, lo, the
+humiliation and the sting were forgotten, and only an intense sense of
+the humor of the situation remained.
+
+It was Dulce whose pink cheeks were burning now.
+
+"Oh, Phillis! how could you? It is too dreadful even to think about!
+That fat old thing, too! Why, she is twice as big as Mrs. Squails!"
+
+"Beggars cannot be choosers, my dear," replied Phillis, airily; for
+rest was pleasant, and the fruit was good, and it was so delicious to
+feel all that was over and she was safe in her nest again; and then
+the pleasure of talking it all over! "Do you know--?" she began, in a
+disconnected manner, and then sat and stared at her sisters with
+luminous gray eyes, until they begged to know what the new idea was.
+
+"Oh, nothing," she replied, and colored a little. And then she blurted
+out, in an oddly-ashamed way, "it was talking to you two dears that
+put it in my head. But I could not help thinking that moment that if
+one is ever good enough to get to heaven, one of the greatest
+pleasures will be to talk about all our past miseries and
+difficulties, and how the angels helped us! and, though you may laugh
+at me,"--they were doing nothing of the kind, only admiring her with
+all their might,--"I have a kind of fancy that even my 'Trimmings, not
+Squails' episode may have a different look up there!"
+
+"My dear," returned Nan, gently, for she loved all speeches of this
+sort, being a devout little soul and truly pious, "nothing was further
+from my thoughts than to laugh at you, for the more we think in this
+way the grander our work will appear to us. Mrs. Trimmings may be fat
+and vulgar, but when you were measuring her and answering her so
+prettily--and I know how nicely you would speak, Phil--I think you
+were as brave as one of those old knights--I cannot remember their
+names--who set out on some lofty quest or other!"
+
+"I suppose the child means Sir Galahad," observed Phillis, with a
+groan at Nan's ignorance. "Oh, Nannie, I wish I could say,--
+
+               "'My strength is as the strength of ten,
+                   Because my heart is pure;'"
+
+and then she softly chanted,--for quotation never came amiss to her,
+and her head was crammed with choice selections from the poets,--
+
+                 "'All armed I ride, whate'er betide,
+                     Until I find the Holy Grail.'"
+
+"Yes, the Sangreal, or the Quest. It does not matter what, for it was
+only an allegory," returned Nan, who had plenty of ideas, only she
+confused them sometimes, and was not as clever in her definitions as
+Phillis. "It only meant that those grand old knights had some holy
+purpose and aim in their lives, for which they trained and toiled and
+fought. Don't you see?--the meaning is quite clear. We can have our
+Quest too."
+
+"Bless her dear heart, if she is not travelling thousands of years and
+miles from Mrs. Trimmings!" exclaimed Phillis, who never could be
+serious long. "Well, Nannie, I understand you, though you are a trifle
+vague. We will have our Quest and our unattainable standard; and I
+will be your maiden knight--yours and Dulce's.
+
+                "'How sweet are looks that ladies bend
+                    On whom their favors fall!
+                For them I'll battle till the end,
+                    To save from shame and thrall.'"
+
+And when she had repeated this she rose, laughing, and said they were
+all a little demented; and what did they mean by wasting their time
+when there were three dresses to be cut out? and Dulce must have the
+work fixed for the sewing-machine.
+
+For the next hour there was little talk, only the snipping sound of
+scissors and the rustling of silken breadths, and sometimes the swish
+and the tearing of sundry materials, and then the whirring and burning
+and tappings of Dulce's sewing machine, like a dozen or two of
+woodpeckers at work on an iron tree. And no one quoted any more
+poetry, for prose was heaped up everywhere about them, and their heads
+were full of business.
+
+But in the afternoon, when things were in progress and looked
+promising, and Mrs. Challoner had had her nap, and was busy over some
+sleeves that they had given her to keep her quiet and satisfy her
+maternal conscience that she was helping her girls, Phillis did hear a
+little about Miss Drummond's visit. The sewing machine, which they
+worked by turns, had stopped for a time, and they were all three round
+the table, sewing and fixing as busily as possible: and Phillis,
+remembering Sir Galahad, dared not say she was tired, only she looked
+out on the lengthening shadows with delight, and thought about tea and
+an evening walk just to stretch her cramped muscles. And if one day
+seemed so long, how would a week of days appear before the blessed
+Sunday gave them a few hours of freedom?
+
+It was at this moment that Nan, with fine tact, broke the silence that
+was good for work, but was apt to wax drowsy in time:
+
+"Miss Milner's dress is getting on well. How fast you two girls work!
+and mammie is doing the sleeves beautifully. Another afternoon you
+must let the work rest, mammie, and read to us, or Phillis will get
+restive. By the bye, Dulce, we have not told her a word about Miss
+Drummond's visit."
+
+"No, indeed: was it not good of her to come so soon?" exclaimed Dulce.
+"She told us she wanted to be our first customer, and seemed quite
+disappointed when we said that we were bound in honor and mere
+gratitude to send Miss Milner's dress home first. 'Not that I am in a
+hurry for my dress, for nobody cares what I wear,' she said, quite
+cheerfully; 'but I wanted to be the first on your list.' I wish we
+could oblige her, for she is a nice, unaffected little thing, and I am
+beginning to like her, though she is a little fussy."
+
+"But she was as meek as a lamb about her dress," added Nan, who was a
+first-rate needle-woman, and could work rapidly while she talked.
+"Just fancy, Phil! she wanted to have a jacket with tabs and loose
+sleeves, just for comfort and coolness."
+
+"Loose sleeves and a jacket!" almost gasped Phillis, for the princess
+skirts were then worn, and jackets were consigned to oblivion for the
+time being. "I hope you told her, Nan, that we had never worked for
+Mrs. Noah, neither had Mrs. Shem ever honored us by her custom."
+
+"Well, no, Phillis; I was not quite so impertinent, and clever
+speeches of that sort never occur to me until you say them. But I told
+Miss Drummond that I could not consent to spoil her lovely dress in
+that way; and then she laughed and gave in, and owned she knew nothing
+about fashions, and that her sister Grace always ordered her clothes
+for her, because she chose such ugly things. She sat and chatted such
+a long time with us; she had only just gone when you came home."
+
+"And she told us such a lot about this wonderful Grace," went on
+Dulce: "she says Archie quite worships her.--Well, mammie," as Mrs.
+Challoner poised her needle in mid-air and regarded her youngest
+daughter with unfeigned astonishment, "I am only repeating Miss
+Drummond's words; she said 'Archie.'"
+
+"But, my dear, there was no need to be so literal," returned Mrs.
+Challoner, reprovingly; for she was a gentlewoman of the old school,
+and nothing grieved her more than slipshod English or any idiom or
+idiotcy of modern parlance in the mouths of her bright young
+daughters: to speak of any young man except Dick without the
+ceremonious prefix was a heinous misdemeanor in her eyes. Dulce would
+occasionally trespass, and was always rebuked with much gravity. "You
+could have said 'her brother,' could you not?"
+
+"Oh, mammie, I am sure Providence intended you for an old maid, and
+you have not fulfilled your destiny," retorted Dulce, who was rarely
+awed by her mother's solemnity. "All that fuss because I said
+'Archie!' Oh, I forgot, that name is sacred: the Rev. Archibald
+Drummond adores his sister Grace."
+
+"And she must be very nice," returned Mrs. Challoner with an indulgent
+smile at her pet Dulce. "I am sure, from what Miss Drummond told us
+this morning, that she must be a most superior person. Why, Phillis,
+she teaches all her four younger sisters, and one of them is sixteen.
+Miss Drummond says she is never out of the school-room, except for an
+hour or two in the evening, when her father and brothers come home.
+There are two more brothers, I think she said. Dear what a large
+family! and Miss Drummond hinted that they were not well off."
+
+"I should like to know that Grace," began Phillis; and then she shook
+her head reflectively. "No, depend upon it, we should be disappointed
+in her: family paragons are generally odious to other folk. Most
+likely she wears spectacles, and is a thin thread-papery sort of
+person."
+
+"On the contrary, she is a sweet-looking girl, with large melancholy
+eyes; for Miss Drummond showed us her photograph. So much for your
+imagination, Phil?" and Dulce looked triumphant. "And she is only
+twenty-two, and, though not pretty, just the sort of face one could
+love."
+
+"Some people's swans turn out to be geese in the end," remarked
+Phillis, provokingly; but she registered at the same time a mental
+resolve that she would cross-examine Mr. Drummond on the earliest
+opportunity about this wonderful sister of his. Oh, it was no marvel
+if he did look down on them when they had not got brains enough to
+earn their living except in this way! and Phillis stuck her needle
+into Miss Milner's body-lining so viciously that it broke.
+
+The sharp click roused Nan's vigilance, and she looked up, and was at
+once full of pity for Phillis's pale face.
+
+"You are tired, Phil, and so are we all," she said, brightly; "and, as
+it is our first day of work, we will not overdo ourselves. Mammie, if
+you will make the tea, we will just tidy up, and look out the patterns
+for you to match the trimmings and buttons to-morrow;" for this same
+business of matching was rather hailed by Mrs. Challoner as a relief
+and amusement.
+
+Phillis grumbled a little over this additional labor, though, at the
+same time, no one worked harder than she; but she was careful to
+explain that it was her right, as a freeborn Britoness, to grumble,
+and that it was as much a relief to her peculiar constitution as a
+good long yawn is to some people.
+
+"And it answers two purposes," as she observed; "for it airs the
+lungs, and relieves the mind, and no one takes any more notice than if
+I set the wind blowing. And thankful I am, and every mother's child of
+us, that Dorothy is approaching this room with her dust-pan and brush.
+Dorothy, I have a nice little sum for you to do. How many snippets of
+green and black silk go to a dust-pan? Count them, and subtract all
+the tacking-thread, and Dulce's pins."
+
+"Phillis, you are just feverish from overfatigue and sitting so long
+in one place, for you are used to running about." And Nan took her by
+the shoulders, and marched her playfully to the small parlor, where
+Mrs. Challoner was waiting for them.
+
+"Come, girls!" she said, cheerfully. "Dorothy has baked your favorite
+little cakes, and there are new-laid eggs for those who are hungry;
+and I am sure you all earned your tea, darlings. And, oh, Phillis! how
+tired you look!" And Mrs. Challoner looked round on each face in turn,
+in the unwise but loving way of mothers.
+
+This was too much for Phillis; and she interlaced her fingers and put
+them suddenly and sternly over her mother's eyes.
+
+"Now, mammie, promise."
+
+"Phillis, my dear, how can you be so absurd!" but Mrs. Challoner
+strove in vain to release herself. Phillis's fingers had iron tenacity
+in them when she chose.
+
+"A thing like this must be nipped in the bud," pronounced Phillis,
+apostrophizing her laughing sisters. "You must not look at us in that
+fashion every evening, as though we were sheep in a pen, or rabbits
+for sale. You will be weighing us next; and my nerves will not stand
+it. No, mother; here I strike. I will not be looked at in that
+manner."
+
+"But, Phillis--Oh, you nonsensical child!"
+
+"Personal remarks are to be tabooed from this moment. You must not
+say, 'How tired you look!' or 'How pale you are!' It is not manners at
+the Friary, and it is demoralizing. I am ten times more tired this
+minute than I was before you told me so."
+
+"Very well, Phillis; but you must let me pour out the tea." And then
+Phillis subsided. But she had started the fun, and Dulce soon took it
+up and set the ball rolling. And Dorothy, working hard with her
+dust-pan and brushes, heard the merriment, and her old face lighted
+up.
+
+"Bless their sweet faces!--pretending to be happy, just to cheer up
+the mistress, and make believe it is only a game they are having!"
+muttered the old woman, as she paused to listen. "But, if I am not
+mistaken, Miss Phillis, poor dear, is just ready to drop with fatigue.
+Only to hear her, one would think she was as perky as possible."
+
+When the evening meal was over, Mrs. Challoner leaned back in her
+chair and made a little speech to her daughters:
+
+"Thank you, my dears. You have done me so much good. Now, if you want
+to please me, you will all three put on your hats and take a nice long
+walk together."
+
+The girls looked at each other, and every pair of eyes said, as
+plainly as possible, "What a delicious idea! But only two can go, and
+I intend to be the filial victim." But Mrs. Challoner was too quick
+for them. "I said all three," she remarked, very decidedly. "If one
+offers to stay with me, I shall just put myself to bed and lock the
+door; but if you will be good, and enjoy this lovely evening, I will
+take my book in the garden and be quite happy until you come back to
+me." And when they saw that she meant it, and would only be worried by
+a fuss, they went off as obediently as possible.
+
+They walked very sedately down the Braidwood Road, and past the White
+House; but when they got into the town, Phillis hurried them on a
+little: "I don't want people. It is air and exercise and freedom for
+which I am pining." And she walked so fast that they had some trouble
+to keep up with her.
+
+But when they had left every trace of human habitation behind them,
+and were strolling down the rough, uneven beach, towards a narrow
+strip of sand, that would soon be covered by the advancing tide,
+Phillis said, in an odd, breathless way, "Nan, just look round and see
+if there be any one in sight, before, behind, or around us;" and Nan,
+though in some little surprise, did at once as she was bidden, in the
+most thorough manner. For she looked up at the sky first, as though
+she were afraid of balloons or possible angels; and then at the sea,
+which she scanned narrowly, so that not even a fish could escape her;
+and after that she beat the boundaries of the land.
+
+"No, there is not a creature in sight except ourselves and Laddie,"
+she answered.
+
+"Very well," answered Phillis promptly. "Then, if it be all safe, and
+the Hadleigh wits are away wool gathering, and you will not tell
+mother, I mean to have a race with Dulce, as far as we can run along
+the shore; and if I do not win----" And here she pursed up her lips
+and left her sentence unfinished, as though determined to be
+provoking.
+
+"We shall see about that," returned Dulce, accepting the challenge in
+a moment; for she was always ready to follow a good lead.
+
+"Oh, you foolish children?" observed Nan, in her staid fashion. But
+she did not offer the slightest remonstrance, knowing of old that
+unless Phillis found some safety-valve she would probably wax
+dangerous. So she called Laddie to her, and held him whining and
+struggling, for he wanted to stretch his little legs too; thinking a
+race was good for dogs as well as for girls. But Nan would not hear of
+it for a moment: he might trip them up and cause another sprained
+ankle.
+
+"Now, Nan, you must be umpire, and say, One, two, three!" And Nan
+again obeys, and then watches them with interest. Oh, how pretty it
+was, if only any one could have seen it, except the crabs and the
+star-fish, and they never take much notice: the foreground of the
+summer sea coming up with little purple rushes and a fringe of foam;
+the yellow sand, jagged, uneven, with salt-water pools here and there;
+the two girls in their light dresses skimming over the ground with
+swift feet, skirting the pools, jumping lightly over stones, even
+climbing a breakwater, then running along another level piece of
+sand,--Dulce a little behind, but Phillis as erect and sure-footed as
+Atalanta.
+
+Now Nan has lost them, and puts Laddie down and prepares to follow. In
+spite of her staidness, she would have dearly loved a run too; only
+she thinks of Dick, and forbears.
+
+Dulce, who is out of breath, fears she must give up the race, and
+begins to pant and drop behind in earnest, and to wish salt water were
+fresh, and then to dread the next breakwater as a hopeless obstacle;
+but Phillis, who is still as fresh as possible, squares her elbows as
+she has seen athletes do, and runs lightly up to it, unmindful and
+blissfully ignorant of human eyes behind a central hole.
+
+Some one who is of a classical turn has been thinking of the daughter
+of Iasus and Clymene, and cries out, "Bravo, Atalanta! but where is
+Milanion, that he has forgotten the golden apples?" And Phillis,
+stricken dumb by the question and the sudden apparition of a bearded
+face behind the breakwater, remains standing as though she were carved
+in stone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+MOTHERS ARE MOTHERS.
+
+
+"Mr. Drummond! Oh dear! is one never to be free from pastoral
+supervision?" muttered Phillis, half sulkily, when she roused from her
+stupefaction and had breath to take the offensive. And what would he
+think of her? But that was a question to be deferred until later, when
+nightmares and darkness and troublesome thoughts harass the unwary
+soul. "Like a dog, he hunts in dreams," she might have said to
+herself, quoting from "Locksley Hall." But she did nothing of the
+kind,--only looked at the offending human being with such an outraged
+dignity in her bearing that Mr. Drummond nearly committed himself by
+bursting out laughing.
+
+He refrained with difficulty, and said rather dryly,--
+
+"That was a good race; but I saw you would win from the first; and you
+jumped that stone splendidly. I suppose you know the story of
+Atalanta?"
+
+"Oh, yes," responded Phillis, gloomily; but she could not help showing
+off her knowledge all the same; and she had always been so fond of
+heathen mythology, and had even read translations of Homer and Virgil.
+"She had a she-bear for a nurse, and was eventually turned into a
+lion; and I always thought her very stupid for being such a baby and
+stopping to pick up the golden apple."
+
+"Nevertheless, the subject is a charming one for a picture," returned
+Archie, with admirable readiness, for he saw Phillis was greatly hurt
+by this untoward accident, and he liked the girl all the better for
+her spirit. He would not have discovered himself at all, only in
+another moment she must have seen him; and if she would only have
+believed how fully he entered into the fun, and how graceful and
+harmless he thought it, there would have been no pang of wounded
+self-esteem left. But girls, especially if they be worthy of the name,
+are so sensitive and prickly on such matters.
+
+Dulce had basely deserted her sister, and, at the sight of the
+clerical felt hat, had fled to Nan's side for protection.
+
+"Oh, never mind," Nan had said, consoling her: "it is only Mr.
+Drummond. And he will know how it was, and that we thought there was
+not a creature in sight." Nevertheless, she felt a little sorry in her
+heart that such a thing had happened. It would spoil Phillis's mirth,
+for she was very proud; and it might shock their mother.
+
+"Oh, he will think us such tomboys for grown-up young ladies!" sighed
+Dulce, who was only just grown up.
+
+"Never mind what he thinks," returned Nan, walking fast, for she was
+anxious to come to Phillis's relief. She joined them very quietly, and
+held out her hand to Archie as though nothing had happened.
+
+"Is this a favorite walk of yours, Mr. Drummond? We thought we had it
+all to ourselves, and so the girls had a race. They will be dreadfully
+troubled at having a spectator; but it might be worse, for you already
+know us well enough not to misconstrue a little bit of fun."
+
+"I am glad you judge me so truly," returned Archie, with a gleam of
+pleasure in his eyes. Phillis certainly looked uncommonly handsome, as
+she stood there, flushed and angry. But how sweet and cool Nan
+looked!--not a hair ruffled nor a fold of her dress out of order;
+whereas Dulce's brown locks were all loose about her shoulders, shaken
+down by the exercise. Nevertheless, at that moment Phillis looked the
+most striking.
+
+"I am afraid my sudden appearance has put your sister out dreadfully.
+I assure you I would have made myself into thin air if I could," went
+on Archie, penitently; "but all the same it was impossible not to
+applaud the winner. I felt inclined to wave my hat in the air, and
+cry, 'Bravo, Atalanta!' half a dozen times. You made such pretty
+running, Miss Challoner; and I wish Grace could have seen it."
+
+The last word acted like magic on Phillis's cloudy brow. She had
+passed over two delicately-implied compliments with a little scorn.
+Did he think her, like other girls, to be mollified by sugar-plums and
+sweet speeches? He might keep all that for the typical young lady of
+Hadleigh. At Oldfield the young men knew her better.
+
+It must be owned that the youth of that place had been slightly in awe
+of Phillis. One or two had even hinted that they thought her
+strong-minded. "She has stand-off ways, and rather laughs at a fellow,
+and makes one feel sometimes like a fool," they said; which did not
+prove much, except that Phillis showed herself above nonsense, and
+had a knowledge of shams, and would not be deceived, and, being the
+better horse of the two, showed it; and no man likes to be taken down
+in his class.
+
+As Phillis would not flirt,--not understanding the art, but Dulce
+proved herself to be a pretty apt pupil,--they left off trying to make
+her, and talked sensibly to her instead, which she liked better. But,
+though more than one had admired her, no one had ventured to persuade
+himself or her that he was in love; but for that there was plenty of
+time, Phillis not being the sort of girl to remain long without a
+lover.
+
+So when she heard Grace's name she pricked up her ears, and the proud
+look left her face; and she said, a little archly, but in a way that
+pleased Mr. Drummond,--
+
+"All the same, I am glad your sister was not here, for she would think
+Dulce and me such tomboys!" using Dulce's very expression.
+
+Archie shook his head very decidedly at this.
+
+"Ah! you do not know Grace, and how she loves a bit of fun; only she
+never gets it, poor girl!" sighing in a marked manner, for he saw how
+interested Phillis looked. "If you could only hear her laugh; but
+please sit down a moment and rest yourselves," continued the artful
+young man, who had not dared to purpose such a thing before.
+
+Nan hesitated; but a glance at Phillis's hot face decided her.
+
+"Just for five minutes," she said, "and then we must go back to
+mother;" for she had already determined that they must cut their walk
+short for the purpose of getting rid of Mr. Drummond.
+
+And then they sat down on the beach, and Dulce retired behind the
+breakwater to take off her hat and tuck up her hair; while Archie,
+taking no notice, leaned against the other side, and felt well
+contented with his position,--three such pretty girls, and all the
+world well away!
+
+"Is Grace your favorite sister?" asked Phillis, suddenly, as she
+menaced Laddie with a small pebble.
+
+This was a lucky opening for Archie. He was never seen to more
+advantage than when he was talking about Grace. There was no
+constraint or consciousness about him at such times, but he would
+speak with a simple earnestness that made people say, "What a good
+fellow he is!"
+
+"Oh, she has always been that, you know," he said, brightly, "ever
+since she was a little thing, and I used to carry her about in my
+arms, and string horse-chestnuts for her, when she was the funniest,
+merriest little creature, and so clever. I suppose when a man has
+seven sisters he may be allowed to have a favorite among them? and
+there is not one of them to compare with Grace."
+
+"Seven sisters!" repeated Nan, with a smile; and then she added "you
+are very lucky, Mr. Drummond."
+
+Archie shrugged his shoulders at this: he had never quite recognized
+his blessings in this respect. Isabel and Dottie might be tolerated,
+but he could easily have dispensed with Susie and Laura and Clara; he
+had a knack of forgetting their existence when he was absent from
+them, and when he was at home he did not always care to be reminded of
+their presence. He was one of those men who are very exacting to their
+women-kind, who resent it as a personal injury if they fail in good
+looks or are not pleasant to the eye. He did not go so far as to say
+to himself that he could dispense with poor Mattie too, but he
+certainly acted on most occasions as though he thought so.
+
+"Are you not fond of all your sisters?" asked Phillis, rather
+maliciously, for she had remarked the shrug.
+
+"Oh, as to that," replied the young man, coloring a little, "one
+cannot expect to be interested in a lot of school-girls. I am afraid I
+know very little about the four youngest, except that they are working
+Grace to death. Just fancy, Miss Challoner!" he continued, addressing
+Nan, and quite disregarding Phillis's sympathetic looks. "Grace has
+actually no life of her own at all; she teaches those girls, sits with
+them, walks with them, helps them mend their clothes, just like a
+daily or rather a nursery governess, except that she is not paid, and
+has no holidays. I cannot think how my mother can find it in her heart
+to work her so hard!" finished Archie, excited to wrath at the
+remembrance of Grace's wrongs.
+
+"Well, do you know," returned Nan, thoughtfully, as he seemed to
+expect an answer to this, and Phillis for a wonder was silent, "I
+cannot think your sister an object of pity. Think what a good and
+useful life she is leading! She must be a perfect treasure to her
+mother; and I dare say they all love her dearly."
+
+"The girls do," was the somewhat grudging response: "they follow her
+about like four shadows, and even Isabel can do nothing without her
+advice. When I am at home I can scarcely get her for a moment to
+myself; it is 'Grace, come here,' and 'Grace, please do this for me,'
+until I wonder she is not worn out."
+
+"Oh, how happy she must be!" responded Nan, softly, for to her no lot
+seemed sweeter than this. To be the centre and support of a large
+family circle,--the friend and trusted confidante of each! What a
+wonderful creature this Grace must be! and how could he speak of her
+in that pitying tone? "No life of her own!" Well, what life could she
+want better than this? To be the guide and teacher of her younger
+sisters, and to be loved by them so dearly! "Oh, I think she is to be
+envied! her life must be so full of interest," she said, addressing
+the astonished Archie, who had certainly never taken this view of it.
+And when she had said this, she gave a slight signal to her sisters,
+which they understood at once; and then they paced slowly down the
+beach, with their faces towards the town, talking as they went.
+
+They did not walk four abreast, as they used to do in the Oldfield
+lanes; but Nan led the way with Mr. Drummond, and Phillis and Dulce
+dropped behind.
+
+Archie was a little silent; but presently he said, quite frankly, as
+though he had known her for years,--but from the first moment he had
+felt strangely at home with these girls,--
+
+"Do you know, you have thrown a fresh light on a vexed subject? I have
+been worrying myself dreadfully about Grace. I wanted her to live with
+me because there was more sympathy between us than there ever will be
+between my sister Mattie and myself. We have more in common, and think
+the same on so many subjects; and I knew how happy I could have made
+her."
+
+"Yes, I see," returned Nan; and she looked up at him in such an
+interested way that he found no difficulty in going on:
+
+"We had planned for years to live together; but when I accepted the
+living, and the question was mooted in the family council, my mother
+would not hear of it for a moment. She said Grace could not possibly
+be spared."
+
+"Well, I suppose not, after what you have told me. But it must have
+been a great disappointment to you both," was Nan's judicious reply.
+
+"I have never ceased to regret my mother's decision," he returned,
+warmly; "and as for Grace, I fear she has taken the disappointment
+grievously to heart."
+
+"Oh, I hope not!"
+
+"Isabel writes to my sister Mattie that Grace is looking thin and pale
+and has lost her appetite, and she thinks the mother is getting uneasy
+about her; and I cannot help worrying myself about it, and thinking
+how all this might have been averted."
+
+"I think you are wrong in that," was the unexpected answer. "When one
+has acted rightly to the very best of one's power, it is of no use
+worrying about consequences."
+
+"How do you mean?" asked Archie, very much surprised at the decided
+tone in which Nan spoke. He had thought her too soft in manners to
+possess much energy and determination of character; but he was
+mistaken.
+
+"It would be far worse if your sister had not recognized her duty and
+refused to remain at home. One cannot find happiness if one moves out
+of one's allotted niche; but of course you know all this better than
+I, being a clergyman. And, oh! how beautifully you spoke to us last
+Sunday!" finished Nan, remembering all at once that she was usurping
+his place and preaching a little sermon of her own.
+
+"Never mind that," he replied, impatiently: "tell me what you mean.
+There is something behind your speech: you think I am wrong in pitying
+poor Grace so much?"
+
+"If you ask me so plainly, I must say yes, though perhaps I am not
+competent to judge; but, from what you tell me, I think you ought not
+to pity her at all. She is fulfilling her destiny. Is she not doing
+the work given her to do? and what can any girl want more? You should
+trust your mother, I think, Mr. Drummond; for she would not willingly
+overwork her. Mothers are mothers: you need not be afraid," said Nan,
+looking up in her clear honest way.
+
+"Thank you; you have taken a weight off my mind," returned Archie,
+more moved by this than he cared to own. That last speech had gone
+home: he must trust his mother. In a moment scales seemed to fall from
+the young man's eyes as he walked along gravely, and silently by Nan.
+"Why, what manner of girls could these be?" he thought; "frolicsome as
+kittens, and yet possessing the wisdom of mature womanhood?" And those
+few simple words of Nan abided long with him.
+
+What if he and Grace were making a mistake, and there was no hardship
+in her case at all, but only clear duty, and a most high privilege, as
+Nan hinted? What if his mother were right, and only they were wrong?
+
+The idea was salutary, but hardly pleasant; for he had certainly aided
+and abetted Grace in her discontent, and had doubtless increased her
+repinings at her dull surroundings. Surely Grace's talents had been
+given her for a purpose; else why was she so much cleverer than the
+others,--so gifted with womanly accomplishments? And that clear head
+of hers,--she had a genius for teaching, he had never denied that. Was
+his mother, a sensible large-sighted woman in her way, to be secretly
+condemned as a tyrant, and wanting in maternal tenderness for Grace,
+because she had made use of this gifted daughter for the good of her
+other children, and had refused to part with her at Archie's request?
+
+Archie began to feel uncomfortable, for conscience was waxing warm
+within him; and there had been a grieved hurt tone in his mother's
+letters of late, as though she had felt herself neglected by him.
+
+"Mothers are mothers: you need not be afraid," Nan had said, with
+simple wholesome faith in the instincts of motherhood; and the words
+had come home to him with the strongest power.
+
+His poor harassed mother,--what a hard life hers had been! Archie
+began to feel his heart quite tender towards her; perhaps she was a
+little severe and exacting with the girls, but they none of them
+understood her in the least, "for her bark was always worse than her
+bite," thought Archie; and girls, at least the generality of them, are
+sometimes aggravating.
+
+He thought of the weary times she must have had with his father,--for
+Mr. Drummond could make himself disagreeable to his wife when things
+went wrong with him, and the sullen fortitude with which he bore his
+reversal of fortune gave small opening to her tenderness; the very
+way in which he shirked all domestic responsibilities, leaving on her
+shoulders the whole weight of the domestic machinery and all the
+home-management, had hardened and embittered her.
+
+A large family and small means, little support from her husband,--who
+interfered less and less with domestic matters,--all this had no doubt
+fostered the arbitrary will that governed the Drummond household. If
+her husband had only kept her in check,--if he had supported her
+authority, and not left her to stand alone,--she would have been, not
+a better woman, for Archie knew his mother was good, but she would
+have been softer and more lovable, and her children would have seen
+deeper into her heart.
+
+Some such thoughts as these passed through Archie's mind as he walked
+beside Nan; but he worked them out more carefully when he was alone
+that night. Just before they reached the Friary, he had started
+another subject; for, turning to Phillis and Dulce, whom he had
+hitherto ignored, he asked them whether he might enroll one or all of
+them among his Sunday-school teachers.
+
+Phillis's eyes sparkled at this.
+
+"Oh, Nan, how delightful! it will remind us of Oldfield."
+
+"Yes, indeed:" chimed in Dulce, who had left her infant-class with
+regret; but, to their surprise, Nan demurred.
+
+"At Oldfield things were very different," she said, decidedly: "we
+played all the week, and it was no hardship to teach the dear children
+on Sunday; but now we shall have to work so hard that we shall be glad
+of one day's rest."
+
+"But surely you might spare us one hour or two in the afternoon?"
+returned Archie, putting on what Grace called "his clerical face."
+
+"In the afternoons mother will be glad of our company, and sometimes
+we shall indulge in a walk. No, Mr. Drummond, our week-days are too
+full of work, and we shall need all the rest we can get on Sunday."
+And, with a smile, Nan dismissed the subject.
+
+Phillis spoke regretfully of it when he had left them.
+
+"It would have been so nice," she pleaded; but Nan was inexorable.
+
+"You can go if you like, Phil; but I think mother is entitled to that
+one afternoon in the week, and I will not consent to any parish work
+on that account; and then I am sure we shall often be so tired." And
+Nan's good sense, as usual, carried the day.
+
+After that they all grouped round the window in the little parlor, and
+repeated to their mother every word of their conversation with Mr.
+Drummond.
+
+Mrs. Challoner grew alarmed and tearful in a moment.
+
+"Oh, my darlings, promise me to be more careful for the future!" she
+pleaded. "Of course it was only fun, Phillis and he will not think
+anything of it. Still, in a strange place, where no one knows
+you----"
+
+"Dulce and I will never run a race again, I think I can promise you
+that," replied Phillis, very grimly, who felt that "Bravo, Atalanta!"
+would haunt her in her dreams.
+
+"And--and I would not walk about with Mr. Drummond, though he is our
+clergyman and a very gentlemanly person. People might talk: and in
+your position, my poor dears"--Mrs. Challoner hesitated, for she was
+very nice in her scruples, and not for worlds would she have hinted to
+her daughters that Mr. Drummond was young and unmarried, and a very
+handsome man in the bargain: "You see, I cannot always be with you,
+and, as you have to work for your living, and cannot be guarded like
+other girls, you have all the more need to be circumspect. You don't
+think me over strict, do you, darlings?"
+
+"No, dear mother, you are perfectly right," returned Nan, kissing her.
+"I knew how you would feel, and so we came home directly to get rid of
+him: it would never do for the vicar of the parish to be seen walking
+about with dressmakers."
+
+"Don't, Nan!" exclaimed Phillis, with a shudder. Nevertheless, as she
+turned away she remembered how she had enjoyed that walk down the
+Braidwood Road that very morning, when he offered to carry home Mrs.
+Trimmings's dress and she would not let him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+MATTIE'S NEW DRESS.
+
+
+The remainder of the week passed harmlessly and without any special
+event to mark it, and, thanks to Nan's skilful management and
+Phillis's pride, there were no further _contretemps_ to shock Mrs.
+Challoner's sense of propriety. The work progressed with astonishing
+rapidity: in the mornings the young dressmakers were sufficiently
+brisk and full of zeal, and in the afternoons, when their energies
+flagged and their fingers grew weary, Dulce would sing over her task,
+or Mrs. Challoner would read to them for the hour together; but,
+notwithstanding the interest of the tale, there was always great
+alacrity manifested when the tea-bell gave them the excuse for putting
+away their work.
+
+On one or two evenings they gardened, and Mrs. Challoner sat under the
+mulberry-tree and watched them; on another occasion they took a long
+country walk, and lost themselves, and came back merry and tired, and
+laden with primrose-roots and ferns: they had met no one, except a
+stray laborer,--had seen glow-worms, picked wild flowers, and declared
+themselves mightily refreshed. One evening Phillis, who was not to be
+repressed, contrived a new amusement.
+
+"Life is either a mill-pond or a whirlpool," she said, rather
+sententiously: "we have been stagnant for three days, and I begin to
+feel flat. Races are tabooed: besides, we cannot always leave mother
+alone. I propose we go out in the garden and have a game of battledore
+and shuttlecock;" for this had been a winter pastime with them at the
+cottage.
+
+Nan, who was always rather sober-minded now, demurred to this. She
+would have preferred gardening a little, or sitting quietly with her
+mother under the mulberry-tree; but Phillis, who was in a wild mood,
+overruled all her objections, and by and by the battle began, and the
+shuttlecocks flew through the air.
+
+The week's work was finished, and the three dresses lay in their
+wrappers, waiting for Dorothy to convey them to their several owners.
+Nan who was really an _artiste_ at heart, had called her mother
+proudly into the room to admire the result of their labors. Mrs.
+Challoner was far too accustomed to her daughter's skilfulness to
+testify any surprise, but she at once pronounced Miss Drummond's dress
+the _chef-d'oeuvre_. Nan's taste was faultless; and the trimmings she
+had selected harmonized so well with the soft tints of the silk.
+
+"They are all very nice; and Mrs. Trimmings will be charmed with her
+blue silk," observed Mrs. Challoner, trying to throw a little interest
+into her voice, and to suppress a sigh; and then she helped Nan to
+adjust the wrappers, and to pin the neatly-written bills inside each.
+
+"I am sure that is business-like," said Nan, with a satisfied nod, for
+she never could do anything by halves; and she was so interested in
+her work that she would have been heart-broken if she thought one of
+the dresses would be a misfit; and then it was that Phillis, who had
+been watching her very closely, brightened up and proposed a game.
+
+It was a very pretty sight, the mother thought, as she followed her
+girls' movements; the young figures swayed so gracefully as they
+skimmed hither and thither over the lawn with light butterfly
+movements, the three eager faces upturned in the evening light, their
+heads held well back.
+
+"Two hundred, two hundred and one, two hundred and two--don't let it
+drop, Dulce!" panted Phillis, breathlessly.
+
+"Oh, my darlings, don't tire yourselves!" exclaimed Mrs. Challoner, as
+her eyes followed the white flutter of the shuttlecocks.
+
+This was the picture that Mr. Drummond surveyed. Dorothy, who was just
+starting on her round, and was in no mood for her errand, had admitted
+him somewhat churlishly.
+
+"Yes, the mistress and the young ladies were in; and would he step
+into the parlor, as her hands were full?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I know the way," Mr. Drummond had returned, quite undaunted
+by the old woman's sour looks.
+
+But the parlor was empty, save for Laddie, who had been shut up there
+not to spoil sport, and who was whining most piteously to be let out.
+He saluted Archie with a joyous bark, and commenced licking his boots
+and wagging his tail with mute petition to be released from this
+durance vile.
+
+Archie patted and fondled him, for he was good to all dumb creatures.
+
+"Poor little fellow! I wonder why they have shut you up here?" he
+said; and then he took him up in his arms, and stepped to the window
+to reconnoitre.
+
+And then he stood and looked, perfectly fascinated by the novel sight.
+His sisters played battledore and shuttlecock in the school-room
+sometimes, or out in the passages on a winter's afternoon. He had once
+caught Susie and Clara at it, and had laughed at them in no measured
+terms for indulging in such a babyish game. "I should have thought
+Dottie might have played at that," he had said, rather contemptuously.
+"I suppose you indulge in skipping-ropes sometimes." And the poor
+girls had paused in their game, feeling ashamed of themselves. Archie
+would think them such hoydens.
+
+He remembered his reprimand with a strange feeling of compunction, as
+he stood by the window trying vainly to elude Laddie's caresses. What
+a shame of him to have spoiled those poor children's game with his
+sneer, when they had so little fun in their lives! and yet, as he
+recalled Clara's clumsy gestures and Susie's short-sighted attempts,
+he was obliged to confess that battledore and shuttlecock wore a
+different aspect now. Could anything surpass Phillis's swift-handed
+movements, brisk, graceful, alert, or Nan's attitude, as she sustained
+the duel? Dulce, who seemed dodging in between them in a most
+eccentric way, had her hair loose as usual, curling in brown lengths
+about her shoulders. She held it with one hand, as she poised her
+battledore with the other. This time Archie thought of Nausicaa and
+her maidens tossing the ball beside the river, after washing the
+wedding-garments. Was it in this way the young dressmakers disported
+themselves during the evenings?
+
+It was Phillis who first discovered the intruder. The shuttlecocks had
+become entangled, and fallen to the ground. As she stooped to pick
+them up, her quick eyes detected a coat-sleeve at the window; and an
+indefinable instinct, for she could not see his face, made her call
+out,--
+
+"Mother, Mr. Drummond is in the parlor. Do go to him, while Dulce puts
+up her hair." And then she said, severely, "I always tell you not to
+wear your hair like that, Dulce. Look at Nan and me; we are quite
+unruffled; but yours is always coming down. If you have pretty hair,
+you need not call people's attention to it in this way." At which
+speech Dulce tossed her head and ran away, too much offended to
+answer.
+
+When Archie saw Mrs. Challoner crossing the lawn with the gait of a
+queen, he knew he was discovered: so he opened the window, and stepped
+out in the coolest possible way.
+
+"I seem always spoiling sport," he said, with a mischievous glance at
+Phillis, which she received with outward coolness and an inward
+twinge. "Bravo, Atalanta!" sounded in her ears again. "Your maid
+invited me in; but I did not care to disturb you."
+
+"I am glad you did not open the window before," returned Nan, speaking
+with that directness and fine simplicity that always put things to
+rights at once: "it would have startled us before we got to the five
+hundred, and then Phillis would have been disappointed. Mother, shall
+we bring out some more chairs instead of going into the parlor? It is
+so much pleasanter out here." And as Mrs. Challoner assented, they
+were soon comfortably established on the tiny lawn; and Archie, very
+much at his ease, and feeling himself unaccountably happy, proceeded
+to deliver some trifling message from his sister, that was his
+ostensible reason for his intrusion.
+
+"Why does she not deliver her messages herself?" thought Phillis; but
+she kept this remark to herself. Only, that evening she watched the
+young clergyman a little closely, as though he puzzled her. Phillis
+was the man of the family; and it was she who always stood upon guard
+if Nan or Dulce needed a sentinel. She was beginning to think Mr.
+Drummond came very often to see them, considering their short
+acquaintance. If it were Miss Mattie, now, who ran in and out with
+little offerings of flowers and fruit in a nice neighborly fashion!
+But for this very dignified young man to burden himself with these
+slight feminine messages,--a question about new-laid eggs, which even
+Nan had forgotten.
+
+Phillis was quite glad when her mother said,--
+
+"You ought to have brought your sister, Mr. Drummond: she must be so
+dull all alone,"--forgetting all about the dressmaking, poor soul! but
+Phillis remembered it a moment afterwards, with a rush of bitter
+feeling.
+
+Perhaps, after all, that was why he came in so often, because he was
+so sorry for them, and wished to help them, as he said. A clergyman
+has more privileges than other men: perhaps she was wrong to suspect
+him. He might not wish his sister to visit them, except in a purely
+business-like way; but with him it was different. Most likely he had
+tea with Mrs. Trimmings sometimes, just to show he was not proud; he
+might even sit and chat with Mrs. Squails, and not feel compromised in
+the least. Oh, yes! how stupid she was to think he admired Nan,
+because she had intercepted a certain glance! That was her mania,
+thinking every one must be after Nan. Things were different now.
+
+Of course he would be their only link with civilized society,--the
+only cultivated mind with which they could hold converse; and here
+Phillis ceased to curl her lip, and her gray eyes took a sombre
+shade, and she sighed so audibly that Archie broke off an interesting
+discussion on last Commemoration, and looked at her in unfeigned
+surprise.
+
+"Oh, yes! we were there," returned Nan, innocently, who loved to talk
+of those dear old times; "and we were at the _fete_ at Oriel, and at
+the concert at Magdalen also. Ah! do you remember, Dulce?" And then
+she faltered a little, and flushed,--not because Mr. Drummond was
+looking at her so intently but at certain thoughts that began to
+intrude themselves, which entwined themselves with the moonlighted
+cloisters.
+
+"I was to have been there too, only at the last moment I was
+prevented," replied Archie; but his tone was inexplicable to the girl,
+it was at once so regretful and awe-struck. Good heavens! if he had
+met them, and been introduced to them in proper form! They had
+mentioned a Mr. Hamilton: well, Hamilton had been a pupil of his; he
+had coached him during a term. "You know Hamilton?" he had said,
+staring at her; and then he wondered what Hamilton would say if he
+came down to stay with him next vacation.
+
+These reflections made him rather absent; and even when he took his
+leave, which was not until the falling dews and the glimmer of a late
+dusk drove Mrs. Challoner into the house, these thoughts still pursued
+him. Nothing else seemed to have taken so strong a hold on him as
+this.
+
+"Good heavens!" he kept repeating to himself, "to think that the
+merest chance--just the incidental business of a friend--prevented me
+from occupying my old rooms during Commemoration! to think I might
+have met them in company with Hamilton and the other fellows!"
+
+The sudden sense of disappointment, of something lost and irremediable
+in his life, of wasted opportunities, of denied pleasure, came over
+the young man's mind. He could not have danced with Nan at the
+University ball, it is true: clergymen, according to his creed, must
+not dance. But there was the _fete_ at Oriel, and the Magdalen
+concert, and the Long Walk in the Christchurch meadows, and doubtless
+other opportunities.
+
+He never asked himself if these girls would have interested him so
+much if he had met them first in ordinary society: from the very first
+moment they had attracted him strangely. Had he only known them a
+fortnight? Good heavens! it seemed months, years, a lifetime! These
+revolutions of mind are not to be measured by time. It had come to
+this that the late fellow of Oriel, so aristocratic in his tastes, so
+temperate in his likings, had entered certain devious paths, where
+hidden pitfalls and thorny enclosures warn the unwary traveller of
+unknown dangers, and in which he was walking, not blindfold, but by
+strongest will and intent, led by impulse like a mere boy, and not
+daring to raise his eyes to the future. "And what Grace would have
+said!" And for the first time in his life Archie felt that in this
+case he could not ask Grace's advice. He was loath to turn in at his
+own gate; but Mattie was standing there watching for him. She ran out
+into the road to meet him, and then he could see there were letters in
+her hand.
+
+"Oh, dear, Archie, I thought you were never coming home!" she
+exclaimed. "And I have such news to tell you! There is a letter for
+you from Grace, and mother has written to me; and there is a note from
+Isabel inside, and she is engaged--really and truly engaged--to Mr.
+Ellis Burton; and the wedding is to be in six weeks, and you and I are
+to go down to it, and--oh, dear----" Here Mattie broke down, and began
+to sob with excitement and pleasure and the longing for sympathy.
+
+"Well, well, there is nothing to cry about!" returned Archie, roughly;
+and then his manner changed and softened in spite of himself; for
+after all, Isabel was his sister, and this was the first wedding in
+the family, and he could not hear such a piece of news unmoved. "Let
+me hear all about it," he said, by and by; and then he took poor
+hysterical little Mattie into the house, and gave her some wine, and
+was very kind to her, and listened to his mother's letter and Isabel's
+gushing effusion without a single sneer. "Poor little Belle; she does
+seem very happy!" he said, quite affectionately, as he turned up the
+lamp still more, and began Grace's letter.
+
+Mattie sat and gazed at him in a sort of ecstasy; but she did not
+venture to ask him to read it to her. How nice he was to-night, and
+how handsome he looked! there never was such a brother as Archie. But
+suddenly, as though he was conscious of being watched, he sat down by
+the table, and shaded his face with his hand.
+
+No, Mattie, was right in her surmise: he would not have cared to show
+that letter to any one.
+
+The first sheet was all about Isabel. "Dear little Isabel has just
+left me," wrote Grace. "The child looks so pretty in her new
+happiness, you would hardly know her. She has just been showing me the
+magnificent hoop of diamonds Ellis has given her. She says we must all
+call him Ellis now. 'Chacun a son gout:' Poor Ellis is not very
+brilliant, certainly: I remember we used to call him clownish and
+uncultivated. But he has a good heart, and he is really very fond of
+Isabel; and as she is satisfied, I suppose we need not doubt the
+wisdom of her choice. Mother is radiant, and makes so much of the
+little bride-elect that she declares her head is quite turned. The
+house is quite topsy-turvy with the excitement of this first wedding
+in the family. Isabel is very young to be married, and I tell mother
+six weeks is far too short for an engagement; but it seems Ellis will
+not listen to reason, and he has talked mother over. Perhaps I am
+rather fastidious, but, if I were Isabel, I should hate to receive my
+trousseau from my lover; and yet Ellis wants his mother to get
+everything for his _fiancee_. I believe there is to be a sort of
+compromise, and Mrs. Burton is to select heaps of pretty
+things,--dresses and mantles and Paris bonnets. They are rolling in
+riches. Ellis has taken a large house in Sloane Square, and his father
+has bought him a landau and a splendid pair of horses;
+everything--furniture, plate and ornaments--is to be as massive and
+expensive as possible. If I were Isabel I should feel smothered by all
+these grand things but the little lady takes it all quite coolly.
+
+"When I get a moment to myself I sit down and say, 'In six weeks I
+shall see Archie!' Oh, my darling! this is almost too good news to be
+true! Only six weeks, and then I shall really see you! Now do you
+know, I am longing for a good clearing-up talk? for your letters
+lately have not satisfied me at all. Perhaps I am growing fanciful,
+but I cannot help feeling as though something has come between us. The
+current of sympathy seems turned aside, somehow. No, do not laugh, or
+put me off with a jest, for I am really in earnest; and but for fear
+of your scolding me I should own to being just a little unhappy.
+Forgive me, Archie, if I vex you; but there is something, I am
+thoroughly convinced of that. You have some new interest or worry that
+you are keeping from me. Is this quite in accordance with our old
+compact, dear? Who are these Challoners Mattie mentions in her
+letters? She told me a strange rigmarole about them the other
+day,--that they were young ladies who had turned dressmakers. What an
+eccentric idea! They must be very odd young ladies, I should think, to
+emancipate themselves so completely from all conventionalities. I wish
+they had not established themselves at Hadleigh and so near the
+vicarage. Mattie says you are so kind to them. Oh, Archie! dear
+brother! do be careful! I do not half like the idea of these girls;
+they sound rash and designing, and you are so chivalrous in your
+notions. Why not let Mattie be kind to them instead of you? In a
+parish like Hadleigh you need to be careful. Mother is calling me, so
+I will just close this with my fondest love.
+
+                                                              "GRACE."
+
+Archie threw down the letter with a frown. For the first time he was
+annoyed with Grace.
+
+Nan and her sisters rash and designing! "Odd young ladies"! She was
+sorry they had established themselves at Hadleigh! It was really too
+bad of Grace to condemn them in this fashion. But of course it must be
+Mattie's fault: she had written a pack of nonsense, exaggerating
+things as much as possible.
+
+Poor Mattie would have had to bear the brunt of his wrath as usual,
+only, as he turned to her with the frown black on his forehead, his
+eyes caught sight of her dress. Hitherto the room had been very dimly
+lighted; but now, as he looked at her in the soft lamplight, his anger
+vanished in amazement.
+
+"Why, Mattie, what have you done to yourself? We are not expecting
+company this evening: it is nearly ten o'clock."
+
+Mattie blushed and laughed, and then she actually bridled with
+pleasure:
+
+"Oh, no, Archie; of course not. I only put on my new dress just to see
+how it would fit; and then I thought you might like to see it. It is
+the one uncle gave me; and is it not beautifully made? I am sure Mrs.
+Cheyne's dresses never fit better. You and Grace may say what you like
+about the Challoners, but if they can make dresses like this, it would
+be tempting Providence not to use such a talent, and just because they
+were too fine ladies to work."
+
+"I do believe you are right, Mattie," returned Archie, in a low voice.
+"Turn round and let me look at you, girl. Do you mean--that she--that
+they made that?"
+
+Mattie nodded as she slowly pivoted on one foot, and then revolved
+like the figures one used to see on old-fashioned barrel-organs; then,
+as she stood still, she panted out the words,--
+
+"Is it not just lovely, Archie?" for in all the thirty years of her
+unassuming life Mattie had never had such a dress, so no wonder her
+head was a little turned.
+
+"Yes, indeed; I like it excessively," was Archie's comment; and then
+he added, with the delicious frankness common to brothers, "It makes
+you look quite a different person, Mattie: you are almost nice-looking
+to-night."
+
+"Oh, thank you, dear!" cried poor Mattie, quite moved by this
+compliment; for if Archie thought her almost nice-looking he must be
+pleased with her. Indeed, she even ventured to raise herself on tiptoe
+and kiss him in gratitude, which was taking a great liberty; only
+Archie bore it for once.
+
+"She really looked very well, poor little woman!" thought Archie, when
+Mattie had at last exhausted her raptures and bidden him good-night.
+"She would not be half so bad-looking if some one would take her in
+hand and dress her properly. The women must be right, after all, and
+there is a power in dress. Those girls do nothing by halves," he
+continued, walking up and down the room. "I would not have believed
+they had made it, if Mattie had not told me. 'Rash and designing,'
+indeed! just because they are not like other girls,--because they are
+more natural, more industrious, more courageous, more religious in
+fact." And then the young clergyman softly quoted to himself the words
+of the wise old king, words that Nan and her sisters had ever loved
+and sought to practise:
+
+"Whatsoever thy hands findeth to do, do it with thy might."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+"OH, YOU ARE PROUD!"
+
+
+On the following Monday morning, Nan said in rather a curious voice to
+Phillis,--
+
+"If no customers call to-day, our work-room will be empty. I wonder
+what we shall do with ourselves?"
+
+To which Phillis replied, without a moment's hesitation,--
+
+"We will go down and bathe, and Dulce and I will have a
+swimming-match; and after that we will sit on the beach and quiz the
+people. Most likely there will be a troupe of colored minstrels on the
+Parade, and that will be fun."
+
+"Oh, I hope no one will come!" observed Dulce, overjoyed at the idea
+of a holiday; but, seeing Nan's face was full of rebuke at this
+outburst of frivolity, she said no more.
+
+It was decided at last that they should wait for an hour to see if any
+orders arrived, and after that they would consider themselves at
+liberty to amuse themselves for the remainder of the day. But, alas
+for Dulce's hopes! long before the appointed hour had expired, the
+gate-bell rang, and Miss Drummond made her appearance with a large
+paper parcel, which she deposited on the table with a radiant face.
+
+The story was soon told. Her silk dress was such a success, and dear
+Archie was so charmed with it--here Mattie, with a blush, deposited a
+neatly-sealed little packet in Nan's hand--that he had actually
+proposed that she should have another gown made after the same pattern
+for every-day wear. And he had taken her himself directly after
+breakfast down to Mordant's, and had chosen her this dress. He had
+never done such a thing before, even for Grace: so no wonder Mattie
+was in the seventh heaven of delight.
+
+"It is very pretty," observed Nan, critically: "your brother has good
+taste." Which speech was of course retailed to Archie.
+
+Mattie had only just left the cottage, when another customer appeared
+in the person of Miss Middleton.
+
+Nan, who had just begun her cutting-out, met her with a pleased glance
+of recognition, and then, remembering her errand, bowed rather
+gravely. But Miss Middleton, after a moment's hesitation, held out her
+hand.
+
+She had not been able to make up her mind about these girls. Her
+father's shocked sense of decorum, and her own old-fashioned
+gentlewoman's idea, had raised certain difficulties in her mind, which
+she had found it hard to overcome. "Recollect, Elizabeth, I will not
+have those girls brought here," the colonel had said to her that very
+morning. "They may be all very well in their way, but I have changed
+my opinion of them. There's poor Drummond: now mark my words, there
+will be trouble by and by in that quarter." For Colonel Middleton had
+groaned in spirit ever since the morning he had seen the young vicar
+walking with Phillis down the Braidwood Road, when she was carrying
+Mrs. Trimmings's dress. Elizabeth answered this gentle protest by one
+of her gentle smiles. "Very well, dear father: I will ask no one to
+Brooklyn against your wish, you may be sure of that; but I suppose
+they may make my new dress? Mattie's has been such a success; they
+certainly understand their business."
+
+"You have a right to select your own dressmaker, Elizabeth," returned
+the colonel, with a frigid wave of his hand, for he had not got over
+his disappointment about the girls. "I only warn you because you are
+very quixotic in your notions; but we must take the world as we find
+it, and make the best of it; and there is your brother coming home by
+and by. We must be careful, for Hammond's sake." And, as Elizabeth's
+good sense owned the justice of her father's remark, there was nothing
+more said on the subject.
+
+But it was not without a feeling of embarrassment that Miss Middleton
+entered the cottage: her great heart was yearning over these girls,
+whom she was compelled to keep at a distance. True, her father was
+right, Hammond was coming home, and a young officer of
+seven-and-twenty was not to be trusted where three pretty girls were
+concerned: it would never do to invite them to Brooklyn or to make too
+much of them. Miss Middleton had ranged herself completely on her
+father's side, but at the sight of Nan's sweet face and her grave
+little bow she forgot all her prudent resolutions, and her hand was
+held out as though to an equal.
+
+"I have come to ask you if you will be good enough to make me a
+dress," she said, with a charming smile. "You have succeeded so well
+with Miss Drummond that I cannot help wishing to have one too." And
+when she had said this she looked quietly round her, and surveyed the
+pretty work-room, and Dulce sitting at the sewing-machine, and lastly
+Phillis's bright, intelligent face, as she stood by the table turning
+over some fashion-books.
+
+At that moment Mrs. Challoner entered the room with her little
+work-basket, and placed herself at the other window. Miss Middleton
+began talking to her at once, while Nan measured and pinned.
+
+"I don't think I ever spent a pleasanter half-hour," she told her
+father afterwards. "Mattie was right in what she said: they have made
+the work-room perfectly lovely with pictures and old china: and
+nothing could be nicer than their manners,--so simple and unassuming,
+yet with a touch of independence too."
+
+"And the old lady?" inquired the colonel, maliciously, for he had seen
+Mrs. Challoner in church, and knew better than to speak of her so
+disrespectfully.
+
+"Old lady, father! why, she is not old at all. She is an exceedingly
+pleasing person, only a little stately in her manner; one would not
+venture to take a liberty with her. We had such a nice talk while the
+eldest daughter was fitting me. Is it not strange, father dear, that
+they know the Paines? and Mrs. Sartoris is an old acquaintance of
+theirs. I think they were a little sorry when they heard we knew them
+too, for the second girl colored up so when I said Adelaide was your
+goddaughter."
+
+"Humph? we will have Adelaide down here, and hear all about them,"
+responded her father, briskly.
+
+"Well, I don't know; I am afraid that would be painful to them, under
+their changed circumstances. Just as we were talking about Adelaide,
+Miss Mewlstone came in; and then they were so busy that I did not like
+to stay any longer. Ah, there is Mr. Drummond coming to interrupt us,
+as usual."
+
+And then the colonel retailed all this for Archie's benefit. He had
+come in to glean a crumb or two of intelligence, if he could, about
+the Challoners' movements, and the colonel's garrulity furnished him
+with a rich harvest.
+
+Phillis had taken Miss Mewlstone in hand at once in the intervals of
+business: she had inquired casually after Mrs. Cheyne's injured
+ankle.
+
+"It is going on well: she can stand now," returned Miss Mewlstone.
+"The confinement has been very trying for her, poor thing, and she
+looks sadly the worse for it. Don't take out those pins, my dear: what
+is the good of taking so much pains with a fat old thing like me and
+pricking your pretty fingers? Well, she is always asking me if I have
+seen any of you when I come home."
+
+"Mrs. Cheyne asks after us!" exclaimed Phillis, in a tone of
+astonishment.
+
+"Ah, just so. She has not forgotten you. Magdalene never forgets any
+one in whom she takes interest; not that she likes many people, poor
+dear! but then so few understand her. They will not believe that it is
+all on the surface, and that there is a good heart underneath."
+
+"You call her Magdalene," observed Phillis, rather curiously, looking
+up into Miss Mewlstone's placid face.
+
+"Ah, just so; I forgot. You see, I knew her as a child,--oh, such a
+wee toddling mite! younger than dear little Janie. I remember her just
+as though it were yesterday; the loveliest little creature,--prettier
+even than Janie!"
+
+"Was Janie the child who died?"
+
+"Yes, the darling! She was just three years old; a perfect angel of a
+child! and Bertie was a year older. Poor Magdalene! it is no wonder
+she is as she is,--no husband and children! When she sent for me I
+came at once, though I knew how it would be."
+
+"You knew how it would be?" repeated Phillis, in a questioning voice,
+for Miss Mewlstone had come to a full stop here. She looked a little
+confused at this repetition of her words.
+
+"Oh, just so--just so. Thank you, my dear. You have done that
+beautifully, I am sure. Never mind what an old woman says. When people
+are in trouble like that, they are often ill to live with. Magdalene
+has her moods; so have we all, my dear, though you are too young to
+know that; but no one understands her better than her old Bathsheba;
+that is my name, and a funny old name too, is it not?" continued Miss
+Mewlstone, blinking at Phillis with her little blue eyes. "The worst
+of having such a name is that no one will use it; even father and
+mother called me Barby, as Magdalene does sometimes still."
+
+Bathsheba Mewlstone! Phillis's lip curled with suppressed amusement.
+What a droll old thing she was! and yet she liked her, somehow.
+
+"If she takes it into her head to come and see you, you will try and
+put up with her sharp speeches?" continued Miss Mewlstone, a little
+anxiously, as she tied on her bonnet. "Mr. Drummond does not
+understand her at all: and I will not deny that she is hard on the
+poor young man, and makes fun of him a bit; but, bless you, it is only
+her way! She torments herself and other people, just because time will
+not pass quickly enough and let her forget. If we had children
+ourselves we should understand it better, and how in Ramah there must
+be lamentation," finished Miss Mewlstone, with a vague and peculiar
+reference to the martyred innocents which was rather inexplicable to
+Phillis, as in this case there was certainly no Herod, but an ordinary
+visitation of Providence; but then she did not know that Miss
+Mewlstone was often a little vague.
+
+After this hint, Phillis was not greatly surprised when, one morning,
+a pair of gray ponies stopped before the Friary, and Mrs. Cheyne's
+tall figure came slowly up the flagged path.
+
+It must be owned that Phillis's first feelings were not wholly
+pleasurable. Nan had gone out: an invalid lady staying at Seaview
+Cottage had sent for a dressmaker rather hurriedly, and Miss Milner
+had of course recommended them. Nan had gone at once, and, as Dulce
+looked pale, she had taken her with her for a walk. They might not be
+back for another hour; and a _tete-a-tete_ with Mrs. Cheyne after
+their last interview was rather formidable.
+
+Dorothy preceded her with a parcel, which she deposited rather
+gingerly on the table. As Mrs. Cheyne entered the room she looked at
+Phillis in a cool, off-hand manner.
+
+"I am come on business," she said with a little nod. "How do you do,
+Miss Challoner? You are looking rather pale, I think." And then her
+keen glance travelled round the room.
+
+The girl flushed a little over this abruptness, but she did not lose
+her courage.
+
+"Is this the dress?" she asked, opening the parcel; but her fingers
+would tremble a little, in spite of her will. And then, as the rich
+folds of the black brocade came into view, she asked, in a
+business-like tone, in what style Mrs. Cheyne would wish it made, and
+how soon she required it. To all of which Mrs. Cheyne responded in the
+same dry, curt manner; and then the usual process of fitting began.
+
+Never had her task seemed so tedious and distasteful to Phillis. Even
+Mrs. Trimmings was preferable to this: she hardly ventured to raise
+her eyes, for fear of meeting Mrs. Cheyne's cold, satirical glance;
+and yet all the time she knew she was being watched. Mrs. Cheyne's
+vigilant silence meant something.
+
+If only her mother would come in! but she was shelling peas for
+Dorothy. To think Nan should have failed her on such an occasion! even
+Dulce would have been a comfort, though she was so easily frightened.
+She started almost nervously when Mrs. Cheyne at last broke the
+silence:
+
+"Yes, you are decidedly paler,--a little thinner, I think, and that
+after only a fortnight's work."
+
+Phillis looked up a little indignantly at this; but she found Mrs.
+Cheyne was regarding her not unkindly.
+
+"I am well enough," she returned, rather ungraciously; "but we are not
+used to so much confinement and the weather is hot. We shall grow
+accustomed to it in time."
+
+"You think restlessness is so easily subdued?" with a sneer.
+
+"No; but I believe it can be controlled," replied poor Phillis, who
+suffered more than any one guessed from this restraint on her sweet
+freedom.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne was right: even in this short time she was certainly paler
+and thinner.
+
+"You mean to persevere, then, in your moral suicide?"
+
+"We mean to persevere in our duty," corrected Phillis, as she pinned
+up a sleeve.
+
+"Rather a high moral tone for a dressmaker to take: don't you think
+so?" returned Mrs. Cheyne, in the voice Archie hated. The woman
+certainly had a double nature: there was a twist in her somewhere.
+
+This was too much for Phillis: she fired up in a moment.
+
+"Why should not dressmakers take a high moral tone? You make me feel
+glad I am one when you talk like that. This is our ambition,--Nan's
+and mine, for Dulce is too young to think much about it,--to show by
+our example that there is no degradation in work. Oh, it is hard!
+First Mr. Drummond comes, and talks to us as though we were doing
+wrong; and, then you, to cry down our honest labor, and call it
+suicide! Is it suicide to work with these hands, that God has made
+clever, for my mother?" cried Phillis; and her great gray eyes filled
+up with sudden tears.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne did not look displeased at the girl's outburst. If she had
+led up to this point, she could not have received it more calmly.
+
+"There, there! you need not excite yourself, child!" she said, more
+gently. "I only wanted to know what you would say. So Miss Mewlstone
+has been to you, I hear?--and Miss Middleton, too? but that's her
+benevolence. Of course Miss Mattie comes out of curiosity. How I do
+detest a fussy woman, with a tongue that chatters faster than a
+purling brook! What do you say? No harm in her?" for Phillis had
+muttered something to this effect. "Oh, that is negative praise! I
+like people to have a little harm in them: it is so much more
+amusing."
+
+"I cannot say I am of your opinion," returned Phillis, coldly: she was
+rather ashamed of her fit of enthusiasm, and cross in consequence.
+
+"My dear, I always thought Lucifer must have been rather an
+interesting person." Then, as Phillis looked scandalized, and drew
+herself up, she said, in a funny voice, "Now, don't tell your mother
+what I said, or she will think me an improper character; and I want to
+be introduced to her."
+
+"You want to be introduced to my mother!" Phillis could hardly believe
+her ears. Certainly Mrs. Cheyne was a most inexplicable person.
+
+"Dressmakers don't often have mothers, do they?" returned Mrs. Cheyne,
+with a laugh; "at least, they are never on view. I suppose they are in
+the back premises doing something?"
+
+"Shelling peas, for example," replied Phillis, roused to mischief by
+this: "that is mother's work this morning. Dorothy is old and
+single-handed, and needs all the help we can give her. Oh, yes! I will
+take you to her at once."
+
+"Indeed you must not, if it will inconvenience her!" returned Mrs.
+Cheyne, drawing back a little at this. She was full of curiosity to
+see the mother of these singular girls, but she did not wish to have
+her illusion too roughly dispelled; and the notion of Mrs. Challoner's
+homely employment grated a little on the feelings of the fine lady who
+had never done anything useful in her life.
+
+"Oh, nothing puts mother out!" returned Phillis, in an indifferent
+tone. The old spirit of fun was waking up in her, and she led the way
+promptly to the parlor.
+
+"Mother, Mrs. Cheyne wishes to see you," she announced, in a most
+matter-of-fact voice, as though that lady were a daily visitor.
+
+Mrs. Challoner looked up in a little surprise. One of Dorothy's rough
+aprons was tied over her nice black gown, and the yellow earthenware
+bowl was on her lap. Phillis took up some of the green pods, and began
+playing with them.
+
+"Will you excuse my rising?--you see my employment," observed Mrs.
+Challoner, with a smile that was almost as charming as Nan's; and she
+held out a white soft hand to her visitor.
+
+The perfect ease of her manner, the absence of all flurry, produced an
+instant effect on Mrs. Cheyne. For a moment she stood as though at a
+loss to explain her intrusion; but the next minute one of her rare
+sunshiny smiles crossed her face:
+
+"I must seem impertinent; but your daughters have interested me so
+much that I was anxious to see their mother. But I ought to apologize
+for disturbing you so early."
+
+"Not at all; all hours are the same to me. We are always glad to see
+our friends: are we not, Phillis? My dear, I wish you would carry
+these away to Dorothy and ask her to finish them."
+
+"Oh, no! pray do nothing of the kind," returned Mrs. Cheyne, eagerly.
+"You must not punish me in this way. Let me help you. Indeed, I am
+sure I can, if I only tried." And, to Phillis's intense amusement,
+Mrs. Cheyne drew off her delicate French gloves, and in another moment
+both ladies were seated close together, shelling peas into the same
+pan, and talking as though they had known each other for years.
+
+"Oh, it was too delicious!" exclaimed Phillis, when she had retailed
+this interview for Nan's and Dulce's benefit. "I knew mother would
+behave beautifully. If I had taken the Princess of Wales in to see
+her, she would not have had a word of apology for her apron, though it
+was a horrid coarse thing of Dorothy's. She would just have smiled at
+her, as she did at Mrs. Cheyne. Mother's behavior is always lovely."
+
+"Darling old mammie!" put in Dulce, rapturously, at this point.
+
+"I made some excuse and left them together, because I could see Mrs.
+Cheyne was dying to get rid of me; and I'm always amiable, and like to
+please people. Oh, it was the funniest sight, I assure you!--Mrs.
+Cheyne with her long fingers blazing with diamond rings, and the peas
+rolling down her silk dress; and mother just going on with her
+business in her quiet way. Oh, I had such a laugh when I was back in
+the work-room!"
+
+It cost Phillis some trouble to be properly demure when Mrs. Cheyne
+came into the work-room some time afterwards in search of her. Perhaps
+her mischievous eyes betrayed her, for Mrs. Cheyne shook her head at
+her in pretended rebuke:
+
+"Ah, I see; you will persist in treating things like a comedy. Well,
+that is better than putting on tragedy airs and making yourselves
+miserable. Now I have seen your mother, I am not quite so puzzled."
+
+"Indeed!" and Phillis fixed her eyes innocently on Mrs. Cheyne's
+face.
+
+"No; but I am not going to make you vain by telling you what I think
+of her: indiscriminate praise is not wholesome. Now, when are you
+coming to see me?--that is the point in question."
+
+"Dorothy will bring home your dress on Saturday," replied Phillis, a
+little dryly. "If it requires alteration, perhaps you will let me
+know, and of course I will come up to the White House at any time."
+
+"But I do not mean to wait for that. You are misunderstanding me
+purposely, Miss Challoner. I want you to come and talk to me one
+evening,--any evening. No one but Miss Mewlstone will be there."
+
+"Oh, no!" responded Phillis, suddenly turning very red:
+
+"I do not think that would do at all, Mrs. Cheyne. I do not mean to be
+rude or ungrateful for your kindness, but--but----" Here the girl
+stammered and broke down.
+
+"You wish, then, to confine our intercourse to a purely business
+relation?" asked Mrs. Cheyne, and her voice had a tone of the old
+bitterness.
+
+"Would it not be better under the circumstances? Forgive me if I am
+too proud, but----"
+
+"Oh, you are proud, terribly proud!" returned Mrs. Cheyne, taking up
+her words before she could complete her sentence. "You owe me a grudge
+for what I said that night, and now you are making me pay the penalty.
+Well, I am not meek: there is not a human being living to whom I would
+sue for friendship. If I were starving for a kind word, I would sooner
+die than ask for one. You see, I am proud too, Miss Challoner."
+
+"Oh, I did not mean to hurt you," returned Phillis, distressed at
+this, but determined not to yield an inch or bend to the sudden
+caprice of this extraordinary woman, who had made her suffer so once.
+
+"To be hurt, one must have feelings," returned this singular person.
+"Do not be afraid, I shall not attempt to shake your resolution: if
+you come to me now it must be of your own free will."
+
+"And if I come, what then?" asked Phillis, standing very straight and
+stiff, for she would not be patronized.
+
+"If you come you will be welcome," returned Mrs. Cheyne; and then,
+with a grave inclination of the head, she swept out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+A DARK HOUR.
+
+
+"I should go one evening, if I were you: it is easy to see that Mrs.
+Cheyne has taken a fancy to you," said Nan, who was much interested by
+this recital; but to this Phillis replied, with a very decided shake
+of the head,--
+
+"I shall do nothing of the kind; I was not made to be a fine lady's
+_protegee_. If she patronized me, I should grow savage and show my
+teeth; and, as I have no desire to break the peace, we had better
+remain strangers. Dear Magdalene certainly has a temper!" finished
+Phillis, with a wicked little sneer.
+
+Nan tried to combat this resolution, and used a great many arguments:
+she was anxious that Phillis should avail herself of this sudden fancy
+on the part of Mrs. Cheyne to lift herself and perhaps all of them
+into society with their equals. Nan's good sense told her that though
+at present the novelty and excitement of their position prevented them
+from realizing the full extent of their isolation, in time it must
+weigh on them very heavily, and especially on Phillis, who was bright
+and clever and liked society; but all her words were powerless against
+Phillis's stubbornness: to the White House she could not and would not
+go.
+
+But one evening she changed her mind very suddenly, when a note from
+Miss Mewlstone reached her. A gardener's boy brought it: "it was very
+particular, and was to be delivered immediate to the young lady," he
+observed, holding the missive between a very grimy finger and thumb.
+
+"MY DEAR YOUNG LADY,--
+
+"Pride is all very well, but charity is often best in the long run,
+and a little kindness to a suffering human being is never out of place
+in a young creature like you.
+
+"Poor Magdalene has been very sadly for days, and I have got it into
+my stupid old head--that is always fancying things--that she has been
+watching for folks who have been too proud to come, though she would
+die sooner than tell me so; but that is her way, poor dear!
+
+"It is ill to wake at nights with nothing but sad thoughts for
+company, and it is ill wearing out the long days with only a silly old
+body to cheer one up; and when there is nothing fresh to say, and
+nothing to expect, and not a footstep or a voice to break the silence,
+then it seems to me that a young voice--that is, a kind voice--would
+be welcome. Take this hint, my dear, and keep my counsel, for I am
+only a silly old woman, as she often says.
+
+                                                       "Yours,
+                                                 Bathsheba Mewlstone."
+
+"Oh, I must go now!" observed Phillis, in an embarrassed voice, as she
+laid this singular note before Nan.
+
+"Yes, dear; and you had better put on your hat at once, and Dulce and
+I will walk with you as far as the gate. It is sad for you to miss the
+scramble on the shore; but, when other people really want us, I feel
+as though it were a direct call," finished Nan, solemnly.
+
+"I am afraid there is a storm coming up," replied Phillis, who had
+been oppressed all day by the heavy thundery atmosphere: she had
+looked so heated and weary that Nan had proposed a walk by the shore.
+Work was pouring upon them from all sides: the townspeople, envious of
+Mrs. Trimmings's stylish new dress, were besieging the Friary with
+orders, and the young dressmakers would have been literally
+overwhelmed with their labors, only that Nan, with admirable
+foresight, insisted on taking in no more work than they felt
+themselves able to complete.
+
+"No," she would say to some disappointed customer, "our hands are full
+just now, and we cannot undertake any more orders at present: we will
+not promise more than we can perform. Come to me again in a
+fortnight's time, and we will willingly make your dress, but now it is
+impossible." And in most cases the dress was brought punctually at the
+time appointed.
+
+Phillis used to grumble a little at this.
+
+"You ought not to refuse orders, Nan," she said, rather fretfully,
+once. "Any other dressmaker would sit up half the night rather than
+disappoint a customer."
+
+"My dear," Nan returned, in her elder-sisterly voice, which had always
+a great effect on Phillis, "I wonder what use Dulce and you would be
+if you sat up sewing half the night, and drinking strong tea to keep
+yourselves awake? No, there shall be no burning the candles at both
+ends in this fashion; please God we will keep our health, and our
+customers; and no one in their senses could call us idle. Why, we are
+quite the fashion! Mrs. Squails told me yesterday that every one in
+Hadleigh was wild to have a gown made by the 'lady dressmakers.'"
+
+"Oh, I daresay!" replied Phillis, crossly, for the poor thing was so
+hot and tired that she could have cried from pure weariness and
+vexation of spirit: "but we shall not be the fashion long when the
+novelty wears off; people will call us independent, and get tired of
+us; and no wonder, if they are to wait for their dresses in this
+way."
+
+Nan's only answer was to look at Phillis's pale face in a pitying way;
+and then she took her hand, and led her to the corner, where her
+mother's Bible always lay, and then with ready fingers turned to the
+well known-passage, "Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labor
+unto the evening."
+
+"Well, Nan, what then?"
+
+"Evening is for rest,--for refreshment of mind and body: I will not
+have it turned into a time of toil. I know you, Phillis; you would
+work till your poor fingers got thin, and your spirits were all
+flattened out, and every nerve was jarring and set on edge; and you
+would call that duty! No, darling,--never! Dulce shall keep her roses,
+and we will have battledore and shuttlecock every evening; but, if I
+have to keep the key of the work-room in my pocket, you and Dulce
+shall never enter it after tea." And Nan's good sense, as usual,
+carried the day.
+
+Phillis would much rather have joined her sisters in their walk than
+have turned in at the gloomy lodge-gates.
+
+            "'All ye who enter here, leave hope behind,'"
+
+she quoted, softly, as she waved her hand to Nan.
+
+The servant who admitted her looked a little dubious over his errand.
+
+"His mistress was in her room," he believed, "and was far too unwell
+to see visitors. He would tell Miss Mewlstone, if the young lady liked
+to wait; but he was sure it was no use,"--all very civilly said. And
+as Phillis persisted in her intention of seeing Mrs. Cheyne, if
+possible, he ushered her into the library, a gloomy-looking room, with
+closed blinds, one of which he drew up, and then went in search of
+Miss Mewlstone.
+
+Phillis did not find her surroundings particularly cheerful. The air
+was darkened by the approaching storm. A sullen cloud hung over the
+sky. The library windows opened upon the shrubberies. Here the trees
+were planted so thickly that their shade obscured much of the light.
+The room was so dark that she could only dimly discern the handsome
+bindings of the books in the carved oak book-cases. The whole of the
+furniture seemed sombre and massive. The chair that the footman had
+placed for her was covered with violet velvet, and was in harmony with
+the rest of the furniture.
+
+Dreary as the room looked, it was nothing to the shrubbery walk. A
+narrow winding path seemed to vanish into utter darkness. In some
+places the trees met overhead, so closely had they grown.
+
+"If I were the mistress of the White House," Phillis said to herself,
+"I would cut every one of those trees down. They must make this part
+of the house quite unhealthy. It really looks like a 'ghost walk' that
+one reads about." But scarcely had these thoughts passed through her
+mind when she uttered a faint cry of alarm. The dark room, the
+impending storm, and her own overwrought feelings were making her
+nervous; but actually, through the gloom, she could see a figure in
+white approaching.
+
+In another moment she would have sought refuge in the hall, but
+contempt at her own cowardice kept her rooted to the spot.
+
+"She was an utter goose to be so startled! It was--yes, of course it
+was Mrs. Cheyne. She could see her more plainly now. She would step
+through the window and meet her."
+
+Phillis's feelings of uneasiness had not quite vanished. The obscurity
+was confusing, and invested everything with an unnatural effect. Even
+Mrs. Cheyne's figure, coming out from the dark background, seemed
+strange and unfamiliar. Phillis had always before seen her in black;
+but now she wore a white gown, fashioned loosely, like a wrapper, and
+her hair, which at other times had been most carefully arranged, was
+now strained tightly and unbecomingly from her face, which looked
+pallid and drawn. She started violently when she saw Phillis coming
+towards her, and seemed inclined to draw back and retrace her steps.
+It evidently cost her a strong effort to recover herself. She seemed
+to conquer her reluctance with difficulty.
+
+"So you have come at last, Miss Challoner," she said, fixing her eyes,
+which looked unnaturally bright, on Phillis. Her voice was cold,
+almost harsh, and her countenance expressed no pleasure. The hand she
+held out was so limp and cold that Phillis relinquished it hastily.
+
+"You said that I should be welcome," she faltered, and trying not to
+appear alarmed. She was too young and healthy to understand the
+meaning of the word hysteria, or to guess at the existence of nervous
+maladies that make some people's lives a long torment to them.
+Nevertheless, Mrs. Cheyne's singular aspect filled her with vague
+fear. It did not enter into her mind to connect the coming storm with
+Mrs. Cheyne's condition, until she hinted at it herself.
+
+"Oh, yes, you are welcome," she responded, wearily. "I have looked for
+you evening after evening, but you chose to come with the storm. It is
+a pity, perhaps; but then you did not know!"
+
+"What would you have me know?" asked Phillis, timidly.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne shrugged her shoulders a little flightily.
+
+"Oh, you are young!" she returned; "you do not understand what nerves
+mean; you sleep sweetly of a night, and have no bad dreams: it does
+not matter to you happy people if the air is full of sunshine or
+surcharged with electricity. For me, when the sun ceases to shine I am
+in despair. Fogs find me brooding. An impending storm suffocates me,
+and yet tears me to pieces with restlessness: it drives me hither and
+thither like a fallen leaf. I tire myself that I may sleep, and yet I
+stare open-eyed for hours together into the darkness. I wonder
+sometimes I do not go mad. But there! let us walk--let us walk." And
+she made a movement to retrace her steps; but Phillis, with a courage
+for which she commended herself afterwards, pulled her back by her
+hanging sleeves.
+
+"Oh, not there! it is not good for any one who is sad to walk in that
+dark place. No wonder your thoughts are sombre. Look! the heavy
+rain-drops are pattering among the leaves. I do not care to get wet:
+let us go back to the house."
+
+"Pshaw! what does it matter getting wet?" she returned, with a little
+scorn; but nevertheless she suffered Phillis to take her arm and draw
+her gently towards the house. Only as they came near the library
+window, she pointed to it indignantly. "Who has dared to enter that
+room, or open the window! Have I not forbidden over and over again
+that that room should be used? Do you think," she continued, in the
+same excited way, "that I would enter that room to-night of all
+nights! Why, I should hear his angry voice pealing in every corner!
+It was a good room for echoes; and he could speak loudly if he chose.
+Come away! there is a door I always use that leads to my private
+apartments. I am no recluse; but in these moods I do not care to show
+myself to people. If you are not afraid, you may come with me, unless
+you prefer Miss Mewlstone's company."
+
+"I would rather go with you," returned Phillis, gently. She could not
+in truth say she was not afraid; but all the same she must try and
+soothe the poor creature who was evidently enduring such torments of
+mind: so she followed in silence up the broad oak staircase.
+
+A green-baize door admitted them into a long and somewhat narrow
+corridor, lighted up by a row of high narrow windows set prettily with
+flower-boxes. Here there were several doors. Mrs. Cheyne paused before
+one a moment.
+
+"Look here! you shall see the mysteries of the west wing. This is my
+world; downstairs I am a different creature--taciturn, harsh, and
+prone to sarcasm. Ask Mr. Drummond what he thinks of me; but I never
+could endure a good young man--especially that delicious compound of
+the worldling and the saint--like the Reverend Archibald. See here, my
+dear: here I am never captious or say naughty things!"
+
+She threw open the door, and softly beckoned to Phillis to enter. It
+was a large empty room,--evidently a nursery. Some canaries were
+twittering faintly in a gilded cage. There were flowers in the two
+windows, and in the vases on the table: evidently some loving hands
+had arranged them that very morning. A large rocking-horse occupied
+the centre of the floor: a doll lay with its face downwards on the
+crimson carpet; a pile of wooden soldiers strutted on their zigzag
+platform,--one or two had fallen off; a torn picture-book had been
+flung beside them.
+
+"That was my Janie's picture-book," said Mrs. Cheyne, mournfully: "she
+was teaching her doll out of it just before she was taken ill. Nothing
+was touched; by a sort of inspiration,--a foreboding,--I do not know
+what,--I bade nurse leave the toys as they were. 'It is only an
+interrupted game: let the darlings find their toys as they put them,'
+I said to her that morning. Look at the soldiers, Bertie was always
+for soldiers,--bless him!"
+
+Her manner had grown calmer; and she spoke with such touching
+tenderness that tears came to Phillis's eyes. But Mrs. Cheyne never
+once looked at the girl; she lingered by the table a moment, adjusting
+a leaf here and a bud there in the bouquets, and then she opened an
+inner door leading to the night-nursery. Here the associations were
+still more harrowing. The cots stood side by side under a muslin
+canopy, with an alabaster angel between them; the little night-dresses
+lay folded on the pillows; on each quilt were the scarlet
+dressing-gown and the pair of tiny slippers; the clothes were piled
+neatly on two chairs,--a boy's velvet tunic on one, a girl's white
+frock, a little limp and discolored, hung over the rails of the
+other.
+
+"Everything just the same," murmured the poor mother. "Look here, my
+dear,"--with a faint smile--"these are Bertie's slippers: there is the
+hole he kicked in them when he was in his tempers, for my boy had the
+Cheyne temper. He was Herbert's image,--his very image." She sighed,
+paused, and went on: "Every night I come and sit beside their beds,
+and then the darlings come to me. I can see their faces--oh, so
+plainly!--and hear their voices. 'Good-night, dear mamma!' they seem
+to say to me, only Bertie's voice is always the louder."
+
+Her manner was becoming a little excited again; only Phillis took her
+hand and pressed it gently, and the touch seemed to soothe her like
+magic.
+
+"I am so glad you come here every night," she said, in her sweet,
+serious voice, from which every trace of fear had gone. "I think that
+a beautiful idea, to come and say your prayers beside one of these
+little beds."
+
+"To say my prayers!--I pray beside my darlings' beds!" exclaimed Mrs.
+Cheyne, in a startled voice. "Oh no! I never do that. God would not
+hear such prayers as mine,--never--never!"
+
+"Dear Mrs. Cheyne, why not?" She moved restlessly away at the
+question, and tried to disengage herself from Phillis's firm grasp.
+"The Divine Father hears all prayers," whispered the girl.
+
+"All?--but not mine,--not mine, or I should not be sitting here alone.
+Do you know my husband left me in anger,--that his last words to me
+were the bitterest he ever spoke? 'Good-by, Magdalene: you have made
+my life so wretched that I do not care if I never live to set foot in
+this house again!' And that to me,--his wedded wife, and the mother of
+his children,--who loved him so. Oh, Herbert! Herbert!" and, covering
+her face, the unhappy woman suddenly burst into a passion of tears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.
+
+
+Phillis kept a sad silence: not for worlds would she have checked the
+flow of tears that must have been so healing to the tortured brain.
+Besides, what was there that she, so young and inexperienced, could
+say in the presence of a grief so terrible, so overpowering? The whole
+thing was inexplicable to Phillis. Why were the outworks of
+conventionality so suddenly thrown down? Why was she, a stranger,
+permitted to be a witness of such a revelation? As she sat there
+speechless and sympathizing, a faint sound reached her ear,--the
+rustle of a dress in the adjoining room,--footsteps that approached
+warily, and then paused; a moment afterwards the door closed softly
+behind them. Phillis looked round quickly, but could see nothing; and
+the same instant a peal of thunder rolled over their heads.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne started up with an hysterical scream, and caught hold of
+Phillis. "Come," she said, almost wildly, "we will not stay here. The
+children will not come to-night, for who could hear their voices in
+such a storm? My little angels!--but they shall not see me like this.
+Come, come!" And, taking the girl by the arm, she almost dragged her
+from the room, and led the way with rapid and disordered footsteps to
+a large luxurious chamber, furnished evidently as a dressing-room, and
+only divided from the sleeping-room by a curtained archway.
+
+As Mrs. Cheyne threw herself down in an arm-chair and hid her face in
+her hands, the curtain was drawn back, and Miss Mewlstone came in with
+an anxious, almost frightened expression on her good-natured
+countenance. She hurried up to Mrs. Cheyne and took her in her arms as
+though she were a child.
+
+"Now, Magdalene, now, my dear," she said, coaxingly, "you will try to
+be good and command yourself before this young lady. Look at her: she
+is not a bit afraid of the storm:--are you, Miss Challoner? No, just
+so; you are far too sensible."
+
+"Oh, that is what you always tell me," returned Mrs. Cheyne, wrenching
+herself free with some violence. "Be sensible,--be good,--when I am
+nearly mad with the oppression and suffocation, here, and here,"
+pointing to her head and breast. "Commonplaces, commonplaces; as well
+stop a deluge with a teacup. Oh, you are an old fool, Barby: you will
+never learn wisdom."
+
+"My poor lamb! Barby never minds one word you say when you are like
+this."
+
+"Oh, I will beg your pardon to-morrow, or when the thunder stops.
+Hark! there it is again," cowering down in her chair. "Can't you pray
+for it to cease, Barby? Oh, it is too horrible! Don't you recollect
+the night he rode away,--right into the storm, into the very teeth of
+the storm? 'Good-bye, Magdalene; who knows when we may meet again?'
+and I never looked at him, never kissed him, never broke the silence
+by one word; and the thunder came, and he was gone," beating the air
+with her hands.
+
+"Oh, hush, my dear, hush! Let me read to you a little, and the fever
+will soon pass. You are frightening the poor young lady with your wild
+talk, and no wonder!"
+
+"Pshaw! who minds the girl? Let her go or stop; what do I care? What
+is the whole world to me, when I am tormented like this? Three years,
+four years--more than a thousand days--of this misery! Oh, Barby! do
+you think I have been punished enough? do you think where he is, up in
+heaven with the children, that he forgives and pities me, who was such
+a bad wife to him?"
+
+As Miss Mewlstone paused a moment to wipe the tears that were flowing
+over her old cheeks, Phillis's voice came to her relief.
+
+"Oh, can you doubt it?" she said, in much agitation. "Dear Mrs.
+Cheyne, can you have an instant's doubt? Do you think the dead carry
+all these paltry earthly feelings into the bright place yonder?
+Forgive you--oh, there is no need of forgiveness there; he will only
+be loving you,--he and the children too."
+
+"God bless you!" whispered Miss Mewlstone. "Hush, that is enough! Go,
+my dear, go, and I will come to you presently. Magdalene, put your
+poor head down here: I have thought of something that will do you
+good." She waved Phillis away almost impatiently, and laid the poor
+sufferer's head on her bosom, shielding it from the flashes that
+darted through the room. Phillis could see her bending over her, and
+her voice was as tender as though she were soothing a sick infant.
+
+Phillis was trembling with agitation as she stole down the dark
+corridor. Never in her happy young life had she witnessed or imagined
+such a scene. The wild words, the half-maddened gestures, the look of
+agony stamped on the pale, almost distorted features, would haunt her
+for many a day. Oh, how the poor soul must have suffered before she
+lost self-control and balance like this!
+
+It was not the death of her children that had so utterly unnerved her.
+It must have been that bitter parting with her husband, and the
+remembrance of angry words never to be atoned for in this life, that
+was cankering the root of her peace, and that brought about these
+moods of despair.
+
+Phillis thought of Coleridge's lines,--
+
+               "And to be wroth with one we love
+               Doth work like madness on the brain,"--
+
+as she took refuge in the dim drawing-room. Here, at least, there were
+signs of human life and occupation. A little tea-table had been set in
+one window, though the tea was cold. The greyhounds came and laid
+their slender noses on her gown, and one small Italian one coiled
+himself up on her lap. Miss Mewlstone's work-basket stood open, and a
+tortoise shell kitten had helped itself to a ball of wool and was
+busily unwinding it. The dogs were evidently frightened at the storm,
+for they all gathered round Phillis, shivering and whining, as though
+missing their mistress; and she had much ado to comfort them, though
+she loved animals and understood their dumb language better than most
+people.
+
+It was not so very long, and yet it seemed hours before Miss Mewlstone
+came down to her.
+
+"Are you here, my dear?" she asked, in a loud whisper, for the room
+was dark. "Ah, just so. We must have lights, and I must give you a
+glass of wine or a nice hot cup of coffee." And, notwithstanding
+Phillis's protest that she never took wine and was not in need of
+anything, Miss Mewlstone rang the bell, and desired the footman to
+bring in the lamp. "And tell Bishop to send up some nice hot coffee
+and sandwiches as soon as possible. For young people never know what
+they want, and you are just worried and tired to death with all you
+have gone through,--not being an old woman and seasoned to it like
+me," went on the good creature, and she patted Phillis's cheek
+encouragingly as she spoke.
+
+"But how is she? Oh, thank God, the storm has lulled at last!"
+exclaimed the girl, breathlessly.
+
+"Oh, yes; the storm is over. We have reason to dread storms in this
+house," returned Miss Mewlstone, gravely. "She was quite exhausted,
+and let Charlotte and me help her to bed. Now she has had her
+composing-draught, and Charlotte will sit by her till I go up. I
+always watch by her all night after one of these attacks."
+
+"Is it a nervous attack?" asked Phillis, timidly, for she felt she was
+treading on delicate ground.
+
+"I believe Dr. Parkes calls it hysteria," replied Miss Mewlstone,
+hesitating a little. "Ah, we have sad times with her. You heard what
+she said, poor dear: she has been sorely tried."
+
+"Was not her husband good to her, then?"
+
+"I am sure he meant to be kind," returned Miss Mewlstone, sorrowfully,
+"for he loved her dearly; but he was passionate and masterful, and was
+one that would have his way. As long as it was only courtship, he
+worshipped the ground she walked upon, as the saying is. But poor
+Magdalene was not a good wife. She was cold when she ought to have
+been caressing, stubborn when she might have yielded; and sarcasm
+never yet healed a wound. Ah, here comes your coffee! Thank you,
+Evans. Now, my dear, you must just eat and drink, and put some color
+into those pale cheeks. Scenes like these are not good for young
+creatures like you. But when Magdalene is in these moods, she would
+not care if the whole world listened to her. To-morrow she will be
+herself, and remember and be ashamed; and then you must not mind if
+she be harder and colder than ever. She will say bitter things all the
+more, because she is angered at her own want of self-control."
+
+"I can understand that: that is just as I should feel," returned
+Phillis, shuddering a little at the idea of encountering Mrs. Cheyne's
+keen-edged sarcasms. "She will not like to see me any more; she will
+think I had no right to witness such a scene."
+
+"It is certainly a pity that I wrote that note," returned Mrs.
+Mewlstone, reflectively. "I hoped that you would turn her thoughts,
+and that we might avert the usual nervous paroxysm. When I opened the
+door and saw you sitting together so peacefully beside the children's
+beds, I expected a milder mood; but it was the thunder. Poor
+Magdalene! She has never been able to control herself in a storm since
+the evening Herbert left her, and we went in and found her lying
+insensible in the library, in the midst of one of the worst storms I
+have ever witnessed."
+
+"That was when he said those cruel words to her!" ejaculated Phillis.
+
+"Yes. Did she repeat them? How often I have begged her to forget them,
+and to believe that he repented of them before an hour was over! Ah,
+well! the sting of death lies in this: if she had had one word, one
+little word, she would be a different woman, in spite of the
+children's death. God's strokes are less cruel than men's strokes: the
+reed may be bruised by them, but is not broken. She had a long illness
+after the children were gone; it was too much,--too much for any
+woman's heart to bear. You see, she wanted her husband to comfort her.
+Dr. Parkes feared for her brain, but we pulled her through. Ah, just
+so, my dear; we pulled her through!" finished Miss Mewlstone, with a
+sigh.
+
+"Oh, how good you are to her! she is happy to have such a friend!"
+observed Phillis, enthusiastically.
+
+Miss Mewlstone shook her head, and a tear rolled down her face.
+
+"Oh, my dear, I am only an old fool, as she said just now. And, after
+all, the company of a stupid old woman is not much to a proud bonnie
+creature like that. Sometimes for days together she hardly opens her
+lips to me; we sit together, eat together, drive together, and not a
+word for Barby. But sometimes, poor dear! she will cling to me and
+cry, and say her heart is breaking. And Solomon was right: but it was
+not only a brother that is good for adversity. When she wants me, I am
+here, and there is nothing I will not do for her, and she knows
+it;--and that is about the long and short of it," finished Miss
+Mewlstone, dismissing the subject with another sigh. And then she bade
+Phillis finish her coffee and put on her hat. "For your mother will be
+expecting you, and wondering what has become of you; and Phillips or
+Evans must walk with you, for it is past nine o'clock, and such a
+pretty young lady must not go unattended," concluded the simple
+woman.
+
+Phillis laughed and kissed her at this; but, though she said nothing
+of her intentions, she determined to dismiss the servant as soon as
+possible, and run on alone to the Friary. She had not forgotten her
+encounter with Mr. Drummond on her last visit to the White House; but
+to-night the storm would keep him in-doors.
+
+Evans, the new footman, was desired to escort her; but in the middle
+of the avenue Phillis civilly dismissed him.
+
+"There is no need for two of us to get wet; and the rain is coming on
+very heavily," she said.
+
+The young man hesitated; but he was slow-witted and new to his duty,
+and the young lady had a peremptory way with her, so he touched his
+hat, and went back to the house.
+
+"Such nonsense, having a liveried servant at my heels, when I am only
+a dressmaker!" thought Phillis, scurrying down the avenue like a
+chased rabbit.
+
+Hitherto, the trees had sheltered her; but a glance at the open road
+and the driving rain made her resolve to take refuge in the porch of
+the cottage that stood opposite the gate. It was the place where Nan
+and her mother had once lodged; and, though all the lights were
+extinguished, and the people had retired to bed, she felt a
+comfortable sense of safety as she unlatched the little gate. Not even
+Mr. Drummond would discover her there.
+
+But Phillis's satisfaction was of short duration: the foolish girl was
+soon to repent of her foolhardiness in dismissing her escort. She
+little knew that her words to Evans had been overheard, and that
+behind the dripping shrubbery she had been watched and followed.
+Scarcely had she taken refuge under the green porch, and placed her
+wet umbrella to dry, before she heard the latch of the little gate
+unclosed, and a tall dark figure came up the gravel-walk. It was not
+Isaac Williams's portly form,--she could discern that in the
+darkness,--and, for the moment, a thrill of deadly terror came upon
+the incautious girl; but the next minute her natural courage returned
+to her aid. The porch was just underneath the room where Isaac slept;
+a call of 'help' would reach him at once; there was no reason for this
+alarm at all. Nevertheless, she shrunk back a little as the stranger
+came directly towards her, then paused as though in some
+embarrassment:
+
+"Pardon me, but you have poor shelter here. I am Mrs. Williams's
+lodger. I could easily let you into the cottage. I am afraid the rain
+comes through the trellis-work."
+
+Phillis's heart gave a great thump of relief. In the first place, Mrs.
+Williams's lodger must be a respectable person, and no dangerous
+loafer or pickpocket; in the second place the refined cultured tones
+of the stranger pleased her ear. Phillis had a craze on this point.
+"You may be deceived in a face, but in a voice, never!" she would say;
+and, as she told Nan afterwards, the moment that voice greeted her in
+the darkness she felt no further fear.
+
+"I have a dry corner here," she returned, quietly; "it is only a
+thunder-shower, and I am close to home,--only down the road, and just
+round the corner, past the vicarage."
+
+"Past the vicarage!" in a tone of surprise: "why, there are no houses
+there!"
+
+"There is a very small one called the Friary," returned Phillis,
+feeling herself color in the darkness, as she mentioned their humble
+abode. There was no answer for a moment, and then her mysterious
+neighbor continued:
+
+"My good landlord seems to retire early; the whole place looks
+deserted. They are very early risers, and perhaps that is the reason.
+If you will allow me to pass, I will open the door and light a lamp in
+my little parlor. Even if you prefer to remain in the porch, it will
+look more cheerful." And, without waiting for her reply, he took a key
+from his pocket, and let himself into the house.
+
+Their voices had disturbed the owners of the cottage, and Phillis
+overheard the following colloquy:
+
+"Dear sakes alive! what a frightful storm! Is there anything you want,
+Mr. Dancy?" in Mrs. Williams's shrill tones.
+
+"Not for myself, Mrs. Williams; but there is a young lady sheltering
+in the porch. I should be glad if you could come down and make her a
+little comfortable. The floodgates of heaven seem open to-night."
+
+"Dear, dear!" in a still more perplexed voice; "a young lady at this
+time of night,--why, it must be half-after nine. Very well, Mr. Dancy;
+beg her to come in and sit in your parlor a moment, and I will be
+down."
+
+But Phillis absolutely refused to comply with the invitation.
+
+"I am not tired, and I am not a bit wet, and I like watching the rain.
+This is a nice little porch, and I have taken refuge here before. We
+all know Mrs. Williams very well."
+
+"She is a good creature, if she were not always in a bustle," returned
+Mr. Dancy. "There, the lamp is lighted: that looks more comfortable."
+And as he spoke he came out into the little hall.
+
+Phillis stole a curious glance at him.
+
+He was a tall man, and was dressed somewhat strangely. A long
+foreign-looking cloak and a broad-brimmed felt hat, which he had not
+yet removed, gave him the look of an artist; but, except that he had a
+beard and moustache, and wore blue spectacles, she could not gain the
+slightest clue to his features. But his voice,--it pleased Phillis's
+sensitive ear more every moment; it was pleasant,--rather foreign,
+too,--and had a sad ring in it.
+
+He leaned against the wall opposite to her, and looked out
+thoughtfully at the driving rain.
+
+"I think I saw you coming out from the White House," he observed
+presently. "Are you a friend of Mrs. Cheyne? I hope," hesitating a
+little, "that she is very well."
+
+"Do you know her?" asked Phillis, in surprise.
+
+"That is a very Irish way of answering my question; but you shall have
+your turn first. Yes; I used to know her many years ago, and Herbert
+Cheyne, too."
+
+"Her poor husband! Oh! and did you like him?" rather breathlessly.
+
+"Pretty fairly," was the indifferent reply. "People used to call him a
+pleasant fellow, but I never thought much of him myself,--not but what
+he was more sinned against than sinning, poor devil. Anyhow, he paid
+dearly enough for his faults."
+
+"Yes, indeed; and one must always speak leniently of the dead."
+
+"Ah, that is what they say,--that he is dead. I suppose his widow put
+on mourning, and made lamentation. She is well, you say, and
+cheerful?"
+
+"Oh, no! neither the one nor the other. I am not her friend; I only
+know her just little; but she strikes me as very sad. She has lost her
+children, and----"
+
+"Ah!" Phillis thought she heard a strange sound, almost like a groan;
+but of course it was fancy; and just then good Mrs. Williams came
+bustling downstairs.
+
+"Dear heart! why, if it is not Miss Challoner! To think of you, my
+dear miss, being out so late, and alone! Oh, what ever will your ma
+say?"
+
+"My mother will scold me, of course," returned Phillis, laughing; "but
+you must not scold me too, Mrs. Williams, though I deserve all I get.
+Mrs. Mewlstone sent Evans with me, but I made him go back. Country
+girls are fearless and it is only just a step to the Friary."
+
+"The rain is stopping now, if you will permit me to escort you. Mrs.
+Williams will be the voucher for my respectability," observed Mr.
+Dancy, very gravely and without a smile; and, as Phillis seemed
+inclined to put him off with an excuse, he continued, more seriously:
+"Pardon me, but it is far too late, and the road far too lonely, for a
+young lady to go unattended. If you prefer it, I will go to the White
+House, and bring out the recreant Evans by force."
+
+"Oh, no; there is no need for that," observed Phillis, hastily; and
+Mrs. Williams interposed volubly:
+
+"Goodness' sakes, Miss Challoner, you have no call to be afraid of Mr.
+Dancy! Why, Mr. Frank Blunt, that nice young gentleman who lodged with
+me ever so many years, recommended him to me as one of his best and
+oldest friends. Your ma knew Mr. Blunt, for he was here with her, and
+a nicer-spoken young gentleman she said she never saw."
+
+"That will do, Mrs. Williams," returned Mr. Dancy, in rather a
+peremptory tone; and then, turning to Phillis, he said, more civilly,
+but still a little abruptly, as though he were displeased,--
+
+"Well, Miss Challoner, do you feel inclined to trust yourself with me
+for the few hundred yards, or shall I fetch Evans?" And Phillis,
+feeling herself rebuked, unfurled her umbrella at once, and bade Mrs.
+Williams good-night by way of answer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+MRS. WILLIAMS'S LODGER.
+
+
+Phillis felt rather shy and uncomfortable as she picked her way warily
+among the rain-pools in the semi-darkness. Her companion was inclined
+to be silent; most likely he considered her churlish in repelling his
+civil offers of help: so, to make amends, and set herself at her ease,
+she began to talk to him with an attempt at her old sprightliness.
+
+"Do you know this neighborhood well, Mr. Dancy? Have you been long at
+Ivy Cottage?"
+
+"Only a few days; but I know the place well enough," he responded,
+quietly. "It depends upon circumstances how long I remain here."
+
+"Hadleigh is very quiet," returned Phillis, quickly. "It does not
+offer many attractions to strangers, unless they have very moderate
+views of enjoyment. It is select, and the bathing is good, and the
+country tolerable; but when you have said that, you have said all in
+its favor."
+
+"I have always liked the place," with a checked sigh. "Quiet,--that is
+what I want, and rest also. I have been rather a wanderer over the
+face of the earth, and one wants a little breathing-time occasionally,
+to recruit one's exhausted energies. I like Ivy Cottage, and I like
+Mrs. Williams: both suit me for the present. Are you a visitor to
+Hadleigh,--a mere bird of passage like myself, Miss Challoner?"
+
+"Oh, dear, no: we have come here to live."
+
+"And--and you are intimate with Mrs. Cheyne?" coming a little closer
+to her side in the darkness.
+
+"Nothing of the kind," retorted Phillis: "we are mere acquaintances. I
+do not feel to know her at all; she is not a person with whom one
+could get intimate all at once; she is a little difficult. Besides in
+our position----" And here she pulled herself up suddenly.
+
+"Pardon me," returned Mr. Dancy, in an interested voice, "perhaps I
+have no right to inquire, but your words are a little mysterious. Why
+should you not be intimate with Mrs. Cheyne?"
+
+Phillis grew hot in the darkness. What right had he, a perfect
+stranger, to question her so closely? And yet, if he were interested
+in his old friends, perhaps he meant to call at the White House, and
+then he would hear all about them; and after all, perfect frankness
+always answered best in the long run. Phillis hesitated so long over
+her rejoinder that Mr. Dancy said, rather apologetically,--
+
+"I see, I have been incautious; but you must not attribute my question
+to impertinent curiosity. I am anxious to learn all I can about a very
+old friend, of whom I have long lost sight, and I hoped that you might
+have been able to satisfy me."
+
+"Miss Middleton would tell you far more than I."
+
+"What! Elizabeth Middleton? Oh, no: she is far too much of a saint for
+me."
+
+"You know her, too!" exclaimed Phillis, in surprise. "No, I do not
+think you are curious, Mr. Dancy; it was only a little awkward for me
+to tell you about our acquaintance with Mrs. Cheyne. My sister and I
+rendered her a trifling service, and she took a fancy to us, and
+wished to be friends; but in our present position any close intimacy
+would be impossible, as we are only dressmakers."
+
+"Dressmakers!" It is impossible to describe the genuine astonishment,
+almost dismay, in Mr. Dancy's voice. "Dressmakers! Pardon me, Miss
+Challoner, but when one has seen and spoken to a lady like yourself,
+it is almost incredible."
+
+This put Phillis on her mettle at once, and in a moment she laid by
+all her reserve:
+
+"You have been a traveller, Mr. Dancy, and must have seen strange
+things by this time: it surely cannot be such a matter of surprise
+that when gentle-people are poor they must work for their bread. When
+one has ten clever fingers, it is better to use them than to starve. I
+am not ashamed of my position; my sisters and I are very independent;
+but, as we do not like to cause other people embarrassment, we prefer
+to lead hermit lives."
+
+Phillis's silvery tones were rather fierce, but it was well that she
+did not see her companion's expression of suppressed amusement; there
+was a little smothered laugh, too, that was turned into a cough.
+
+"Are your sisters young like yourself?" he asked, rather abruptly.
+
+"Oh, yes, we are all much of an age."
+
+"And you have parents?"
+
+"Only one parent," she corrected,--"a mother. Ah, here we are at the
+Friary! Many thanks for your escort, Mr. Dancy."
+
+"Many thanks for allowing me to escort you," he returned, pointedly:
+"after what you have told me, I esteem it an honor, Miss Challoner.
+No, you have no need to be ashamed of your position; I wish more
+English ladies would follow such a noble example. Good-night. I trust
+we shall meet again." And, lifting his felt hat, he withdrew, just as
+Nan appeared on the threshold, holding a lamp in her hand.
+
+"You naughty girl, what has kept you so late?" she asked, as Phillis
+came slowly and meditatively up the flagged path.
+
+"Hush, Nannie! Have they all gone to bed? Let me come into your room
+and talk to you. Oh, I have had such an evening!" And thereupon she
+poured into her sister's astonished ears the recital of her
+adventure,--the storm, the figure in the shubbery, the scene in the
+west corridor, the porch at Ivy Cottage, and the arrival of Mrs.
+Williams's mysterious lodger.
+
+"Oh, Phillis, I shall never trust you out of my sight again! How can
+you be so reckless,--so incautious? Mother would be dreadfully shocked
+if she knew it."
+
+"Mother must not know a single word: promise, Nan. You know how
+nervous she is. I will tell her, if you like, that I took refuge from
+the rain in Mrs. Williams's porch, and that her lodger walked home
+with me; but I think it would be better to suppress the scene at the
+White House."
+
+Nan thought over this a moment, and then she agreed.
+
+"It would make mother feel uneasy and timid in Mrs. Cheyne's
+presence," she observed. "She never likes that sort of hysterical
+attacks. We could not make her understand. Poor thing! I hope she is
+asleep by this time. Shall you go to-morrow, Phil, and ask after
+her?"
+
+Phillis made a wry face at this, and owned she had had enough
+adventures to last her for a long time. But she admitted, too, that
+she would be anxious to know how Mrs. Cheyne would be.
+
+"Yes, I suppose I must go and just ask after her," she said, as she
+rose rather wearily and lighted her candle. "There is not the least
+chance of my seeing her. Good-night, Nannie! Don't let all this keep
+you awake; but I do not expect to sleep a wink myself."
+
+Which dismal prophecy was not fulfilled, as Phillis dropped into a
+heavy slumber the moment her head touched the pillow.
+
+But her dreams were hardly pleasant. She thought she was walking down
+the "ghost's walk," between the yews and cypresses, with Mr. Dancy,
+and that in the darkest part he threw off his cloak and felt hat, and
+showed the grinning skull of a skeleton, while a bony arm tried to
+seize her. She woke moaning with fright, to find Dulce's long hair
+streaming over her face, and the birds singing in the sweet breezy
+dawn; after which she fell into a dreamless, refreshing sleep.
+
+Phillis had to submit to rather a severe reproof from her mother, in
+return for her frankness. Mrs. Challoner's prudery was up in arms the
+moment she heard of Mrs. Williams's lodger.
+
+"Mrs. Williams ought to have come with you herself; but a strange man
+at that time of night!--what would Mr. Drummond have said to you?"
+
+"Whatever Mr. Drummond liked to say!" returned Phillis, pettishly, for
+this was stroking her already ruffled feelings decidedly the wrong
+way.
+
+Phillis always turned captious whenever Mr. Drummond was mentioned;
+but she subsided into meekness again when her mother fell to crying
+and bemoaning her hard fate and her darlings' unprotected position.
+
+"Oh, what would your dear father have said?" she cried, in such utter
+misery of tone that Phillis began kissing her, and promising that she
+would never, never be out so late again, and that on no account would
+she walk up the Braidwood Road in the evening with a strange man who
+wore an outlandish cloak and a felt hat that only wanted a feather to
+remind her of Guy Fawkes, only Guy Fawkes did not wear blue
+spectacles.
+
+When Phillis had at last soothed her mother,--always a lengthy
+process, for Mrs. Challoner, like other sensitive and feeble natures,
+could only be quieted by much talk,--she fell to her work in vigorous
+silence; but by a stroke of ill luck, Mr. Drummond chose to make
+another pastoral visitation; and, to her secret chagrin, her mother at
+once repeated the whole story.
+
+"Mrs. Williams's lodger saw Miss Phillis home! Why, I did not know
+Mrs. Williams had a lodger!" returned Mr. Drummond, in a perplexed
+voice.
+
+This made matters worse.
+
+"I suppose Mrs. Williams is not bound to let the vicarage know
+directly she lets her rooms?" observed Phillis, rather impatiently;
+for she was vexed with her mother for repeating all this.
+
+"No, of course not; but I was at Ivy Cottage myself yesterday, and
+Mrs. Williams knows I always call on her lodgers, and she never
+mentioned the fellow's existence to me."
+
+"Fellow, indeed!" observed Phillis, _sotto voce_; for she had a vivid
+remembrance of the stranger's commanding presence and pleasant voice.
+
+"When did he come?" inquired the young vicar, curiously, "He must keep
+himself pretty close by daylight; for I have passed and repassed Ivy
+Cottage at least half a dozen times a day, and have never caught a
+glimpse of any one;" to which Phillis replied reluctantly that he had
+not been there long,--that he wanted rest and quiet, and was most
+likely an invalid.
+
+"And his name is Dancy, you say?"
+
+Phillis bowed. She was far too much taken up in her work to volunteer
+unnecessary words; and all this maternal fuss and fidget was odious to
+her.
+
+"Then I will go and call upon him this very afternoon," returned
+Archie, with cheerful alacrity. He had no idea that his curiosity on
+the subject was disagreeable to the girl: so he and Mrs. Challoner
+discussed the matter fully, and at some length. "I don't like the
+description of your mysterious stranger, Miss Challoner," he said,
+laughing, as he stood up to take his leave. "When novelists want to
+paint a villain, they generally bring in a long cloak and beard, and
+sometimes a disguising pair of blue spectacles. Well, I will catch him
+by daylight, and see what I can make of him."
+
+"You may disguise a face, but you cannot disguise a voice," returned
+Phillis, bluntly. "I do not want to see Mr. Dancy to know he is a
+gentleman and a true man." And this speech, that piqued Archie, though
+he did not know why, made him all the more bent on calling on Mrs.
+Williams's lodger.
+
+But Mr. Drummond's curiosity was destined to be baffled. Mrs. Williams
+turned very red when she heard the vicar's inquiries.
+
+"You never told me you had let your rooms," he said, reproachfully;
+"and yet you know I always make a practice of calling on your
+lodgers."
+
+"'Deed and it is very kind and thoughtful of you, too," returned the
+good woman, dropping an old-fashioned courtesy; "and me that prizes my
+clergyman's visits and thinks no end of them! But Mr. Dancy he says to
+me, 'Now, my good Mrs. Williams, I have come here for quiet,--for
+absolute quiet; and I do not want to see or hear of any one. Tell no
+tales about me, and leave me in peace; and then we shall get on
+together.' And it was more than I ventured to give you the hint,
+hearing him speak so positive; for he is a bit masterful, and no
+mistake."
+
+"Well, never mind; a clergyman never intrudes, and I will thank you to
+take Mr. Dancy my card," returned Archie, impatiently; but his look of
+assurance soon faded when Mrs. Williams returned with her lodger's
+compliments, and he was very much obliged to Mr. Drummond for his
+civility, but he did not wish to receive visitors.
+
+Phillis was a little contrary all the remainder of the day: she was
+not exactly cross,--all the Challoners were sweet-tempered,--but
+nothing quite suited her. Mrs. Challoner had proposed going that
+evening into the town with her youngest daughter to execute some
+commissions.
+
+Just before they started Phillis observed rather shortly that she
+should call at the White House to make inquiries after Mrs. Cheyne,
+and that she would came back to the Friary to fetch Nan for a country
+walk. "If I do not appear in half an hour, you must come in search of
+me," finished Phillis, with a naughty curl of her lip, to which Nan
+with admirable tact returned no answer, but all the same she fully
+intended to carry out the injunction; for Nan had imbibed her mother's
+simple old-fashioned notions, and a lurking dislike of Mrs. Williams's
+lodger had already entered her mind.
+
+As Phillis did not enjoy her errand, she put on the best face she
+could, and hurried down the Braidwood Road as though her feet were
+winged like a female Mercury; and Mr. Dancy, who happened to be
+looking over the wire blind in the little parlor, much admired the
+girl's free swift gait as she sped down the avenue. Evans, the young
+footman, admitted her, and conducted her at once to the drawing-room;
+and great was Phillis's surprise and discomposure when she saw Mrs.
+Cheyne sitting alone reading by one of the windows, with her
+greyhounds grouped around her.
+
+She started slightly at the announcement of Phillis's name, and, as
+she came forward to greet her, a dark flush crossed her face for a
+moment; then her features settled into their usual impassive calm,
+only there was marked coldness in her voice.
+
+"Good-evening. Miss Challoner: you have chosen a fine evening for your
+visit. Let me beg of you never again to venture to the White House in
+such a storm."
+
+Phillis stammered out something about hoping that she was better, but
+she interrupted her almost abruptly:
+
+"Much better, thank you. I am afraid you found me decidedly strange
+yesterday. I had what people call a nervous attack: electricity in the
+air, a brooding storm, brings it on. It is a pity one should be so
+childish as to dread thunder; but we are oddly constituted, some of
+us." She shrugged her shoulders, as though to dismiss the subject, and
+stroked the head of the greyhound that lay at her feet.
+
+Poor Phillis found her position decidedly embarrassing. To be sure,
+Miss Mewlstone had warned her of the reception that she might expect;
+but all the same she found it very unpleasant. She must not abridge
+her visit so much as to excite suspicion; and yet it seemed impossible
+to carry on a comfortable conversation with Mrs. Cheyne in this
+freezing mood, and, as Phillis could think of nothing to say, she
+asked after Miss Mewlstone.
+
+"Oh, she is very well," Mrs. Cheyne answered, indifferently. "Nothing
+ever ails Barby: she is one of those easy-going people who take life
+as they find it, without fuss and grumbling."
+
+"I think she is very nice and sympathetic," hazarded Phillis.
+
+"Oh, yes Miss Mewlstone has a feeling heart," returned Mrs. Cheyne;
+but she said it in a sarcastic voice. "We have all our special
+endowments. Miss Mewlstone is made by nature to be a moral feather bed
+to break other people's awkward tumbles. She hinders broken bones, and
+interposes a soft surface of sympathy between unlucky folks. There is
+not much in common between us, but all the same old Barby is a sort of
+necessity to me. We are a droll household at the White House, Miss
+Challoner, are we not,--Barby and the greyhounds and I?--oh, quite a
+happy family!" And she gave a short laugh, very much the reverse of
+merriment.
+
+Phillis began to feel that it was time to go.
+
+"Well, how does the dressmaking progress?" asked her hostess,
+suddenly. "Miss Middleton tells me the Challoner fit is quite the rage
+in Hadleigh."
+
+"We have more orders than we can execute," returned Phillis, curtly.
+
+"Humph! that sounds promising. I hope your mother is careful of you,
+and forbids any expenditure of midnight oil, or you will be reduced to
+a thread-paper. As I have told you you are not the same girl that you
+were when you came to the relief of my injured ankle."
+
+"I feel tolerably substantial, thank you," returned Phillis,
+ungraciously, for, in common with other girls, she hated to be pitied
+for her looks, and she had a notion that Mrs. Cheyne only said this to
+plague her. "Nan is our head and task mistress. We lead regular lives,
+have stated hours for work, take plenty of exercise and on the whole,
+are doing as well as possible."
+
+"There speaks the Challoner spirit."
+
+"Oh, yes; that never fails us. But now Nan will be waiting for me, and
+I only called just to inquire after you."
+
+"And you did not expect to see me. Well, come again when I am in a
+better humor for conversation. If you stay longer now I might not be
+sparing of my sarcasms. By the by, what has become of our young vicar?
+Tell him he has not converted me yet, and I quite miss his pastoral
+visits. Do you know," looking so keenly at Phillis that she blushed
+with annoyance, "a little bird tells me that our pastor has undertaken
+the supervision of the Friary. Which is it, my dear, that he is trying
+to convert?"
+
+The tone and manner were intolerable to Phillis.
+
+"I don't understand you, Mrs. Cheyne," she returned, with superb
+youthful haughtiness. "Mr. Drummond is a kind neighbor, and so is Miss
+Mattie. You may keep these insinuations for him, if you will." Then
+she would have escaped without another glance at her tormentor, but
+Mrs. Cheyne detained her:
+
+"There, never mind. I will take back my naughty speech. It was rude
+and impertinent of me, I know that. But I like you all the better for
+your spirit; and, my dear, take care of yourself and your pretty
+sisters, for he is not worthy of one of you."
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Cheyne! for shame!" And Phillis's gray eyes sparkled with
+lively indignation.
+
+"He is a very ordinary good young man; and you and your sisters are
+real metal, and worth your weight in gold. There! go away, child; and
+come and see me again, for it does me good to torment you!" And the
+singular woman drew the girl into her arms suddenly and kissed her
+forehead, and then pushed her away. "To-morrow, or the next day, but
+not to-night," she said, hurriedly. "I should make you cross fifty
+times if you stay longer to-night." And Phillis was too thankful to be
+released to linger any longer; but her cheeks were burning as she
+walked down the avenue.
+
+"Why do people always put these things into girls' heads?" she said to
+herself. "A young man cannot come into the house, cannot say pleasant
+words, or do kind neighborly actions, but one must at once attribute
+motives of this kind. I have not been free from blame myself in this
+matter, for I have feared more than once that Nan's sweet face
+attracted him,--poor Mr. Drummond! I hope not, for he would not have a
+chance against Dick. I wonder if I ought to say a word?--if it would
+be premature or unnecessary? But I should hate him to be
+unhappy,"--here Phillis sighed, and then threw up her head proudly: "I
+might say just a word, mentioning Dick,--for he does not know of his
+existence. I wonder if he would take the hint. I could do it very
+cleverly, I know. I hate to see people burning their fingers for
+nothing: I always want to go to their rescue. He is tiresome, but he
+is very nice. And, heigh-ho! what a crooked world we live in!--nothing
+goes quite straight in it." And Phillis sighed again.
+
+"Miss Challoner!" The voice sounded so near her that Phillis gave a
+great start. She had nearly reached the gate, and there was Mr. Dancy
+walking beside her, just as though he had emerged from the ground; and
+yet Phillis had not heard a sound. "Have I startled you?" he
+continued, gravely. "You were in such a brown study that I had to call
+you by your name to rouse you. There is nothing wrong at the White
+House, I hope?"
+
+"Oh, no! Mrs. Cheyne is better: her nervous attack has quite passed
+off."
+
+"Magdalene suffering from a nervous attack?" and then Mr. Dancy
+stopped, and bit his lip. "Excuse me, I knew her before she was
+married, when she was Magdalene Davenport--before she and poor Herbert
+Cheyne unfortunately came together. I doubt whether things have not
+happened for the best; there!--I mean," as Phillis looked at him in
+some perplexity, "that there is little fear of her being an
+inconsolable widow."
+
+"How can you say such a thing!" returned Phillis, indignantly. "That
+is the way with you men, you judge so harshly of women. Mrs. Cheyne is
+singular in her ways. She wears no mourning, and yet a more unhappy
+creature never existed on this earth. Not inconsolable!--and yet no
+one dares to speak a word of comfort to her, so great is her misery."
+
+"Excuse me one moment: I have been ill, and am still subject to fits
+of giddiness. A mere vertigo; nothing more." But he said the words
+gasping for breath, and looked so deadly pale that Phillis felt quite
+frightened as she stood beside him.
+
+They had been walking a few steps down the Braidwood Road, and Phillis
+had looked out anxiously for Nan, who had not yet appeared in sight.
+But now Mr. Dancy had come to an abrupt pause, and was leaning for
+support against the low wall that shut in the grounds of the White
+House. Phillis looked at him a little curiously, in spite of her
+sympathy. He still wore his loose cloak, though the evening was warm;
+but he had loosened it, and taken off his felt hat for air.
+
+In figure he was a tall, powerful-looking man, only thin and almost
+emaciated, as though from recent illness. His features were handsome,
+but singularly bronzed and weather-beaten, as though from constant
+exposure to sun and wind; and even the blue spectacles could not hide
+a pair of keen blue eyes. By daylight Phillis could see that his brown
+beard and moustache were tinged with gray, and the hair on the temples
+was almost white; and yet he seemed still in the prime of life. It was
+a far handsomer face than Archie Drummond's; but the deep lines and
+gray hair spoke of trouble more than age, and one thing especially
+impressed Phillis,--the face was as refined as the voice.
+
+If Mr. Dancy were aware of her close scrutiny, he took no notice of
+it. He leaned his arm against the wall and rested his head against it;
+and the thin brown hand was plainly visible, with a deep-red scar just
+above the wrist.
+
+As Phillis had regarded it with sudden horror, wondering what had
+inflicted it, he suddenly aroused himself with an apology:
+
+"There! it has passed: it never lasts long. Shall we walk on? I am so
+ashamed of detaining you in this way; but when a man has had a
+sunstroke----"
+
+"Oh, that is sad!" returned Phillis, in a sympathizing voice. "Is that
+why you keep in-doors so much in the daylight? at least"--correcting
+herself in haste, for she had spoken without thought--"one never sees
+you about," which was a foolish speech, and showed she took notice of
+his movements; but she could not betray Mr. Drummond.
+
+"Some one else only comes out in the evening," he rejoined, rather
+pointedly. "Who told you I kept in-doors in the daylight? Oh, I know!"
+the frown passing from his face, for he had spoken quickly and in
+annoyed fashion. "This sounds like a parson's prating: I know the
+language of old. By the bye, did you set the clergy on my track?"
+turning the blue spectacles full on the embarrassed Phillis.
+
+"I?--no indeed!" and then she went on frankly: "Mr. Drummond was at
+our house, and he told us that he always called on Mrs. Williams's
+lodgers."
+
+"True, Miss Challoner; but how did his reverence know Mrs. Williams
+had a lodger?"
+
+This was awkward, but Phillis steered her way through the difficulty
+with her usual dexterity.
+
+"I mentioned to my mother that you were kind enough to see me home,
+and she repeated the fact to Mr. Drummond."
+
+"Thank you, Miss Challanor; now I understand. I wonder if your mother
+would be very shocked if a stranger intruded upon her? but you and I
+must have some more conversation together, and I do not see how it is
+to be managed in accordance with what you ladies call _les
+convenances_."
+
+"My mother----" began Phillis, demurely; and then she paused, and
+looked up at him in astonishment, "What, Mr. Dancy! you purpose to
+call on my mother, and yet you refused Mr. Drummond's visit?" for the
+news of Archie's defeat had already reached the Friary through Miss
+Mattie.
+
+Mr. Dancy seemed rather nonplussed at this, and then he laughed:
+
+"Ah, you are shrewd, Miss Challoner; there is no deceiving you! I have
+seen Mr. Drummond pass and repass often enough; and--pardon me, if he
+be a friend--I thought from the cut of his coat that he was prig, and
+I have a horror of clerical prigs."
+
+"He is not priggish in the least," was Phillis's annoyed rejoinder.
+
+"No? Well, appearances are sometimes deceptive: perhaps I was too
+hasty in my dread of being bored. But here comes your sister, I
+think,--at least, I have seen you together: so I am leaving you in
+good hands." And, before Phillis could reply, he had lifted his hat
+and turned away, just as Nan, whose vigilant eyes were upon him, was
+hurrying to join her sister.
+
+"Oh, Phillis, was that Mr. Dancy?" she asked, in a reproachful voice,
+as she hurried up to her.
+
+"Yes, Nannie, it was Mr. Dancy," returned Phillis, composedly; "and I
+wish I could have introduced him to you, for I believe he is coming to
+call on mother." And, when she had related this astounding piece of
+intelligence, she looked in Nan's face and laughed, and, in high good
+humor, proceeded to relate their conversation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+"NOW WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER."
+
+
+One fine morning in September, Mr. Drummond was standing at the back
+of Milner's Library, turning over the last new assortment of books
+from Mudie, when two gentlemen entered the shop.
+
+Strangers were always interesting to Archie, and he criticised them
+under a twofold aspect--pastoral and social. In this way curiosity
+becomes a virtue, and a man with a mission is not without his
+interests in life. Hadleigh was Mr. Drummond's sheep-walk, where he
+shepherded his lambs, and looked after his black sheep and tried to
+wash them white, or, in default of that, at least to make out that
+their fleece was not so sable after all: so he now considered it his
+duty to leave off turning over the pages of a seductive-looking novel,
+and to inspect the strangers.
+
+They were both dressed in tweed travelling costumes, and looked
+sunburnt, as though they had just returned from a walking-tour. The
+elder was a short wiry man, with a shrewd face and quizzical eyes; and
+he asked in sharp clipping voice that was not free from accent, for
+the last number of the local paper, containing lists of inhabitants,
+visitors, etc.
+
+Meanwhile, the younger man walked about the shop, whistling softly to
+himself, as though he had a fund of cheerfulness on hand which must
+find vent somewhere. When he came opposite Archie, he took a brief
+survey of him in a careless, good-humored fashion, and then turned on
+his heel, bestowing a very cursory glance on Miss Masham, who stood
+shaking her black ringlets after the fashion of shopwomen, and waiting
+to know the gentleman's pleasure.
+
+No one would have called this young man very good-looking, unless such
+a one had a secret predilection for decidedly reddish hair and a sandy
+moustache; but there was an air of _bonhommie_, of frank kindness, of
+boyish fun and pleasantry, that attracted even strangers, and Archie
+looked after him with considerable interest.
+
+"Oxford cut, father and son: father looks rather a queer customer,"
+thought Archie to himself.
+
+"Dick, come here!--why, where is that fellow?" suddenly exclaimed the
+elder man, beginning to put on his eye-glasses very nervously.
+
+"Coming, father. All right: what is it?" returned the imperturbable
+Dick. He was still whistling "Twickenham Ferry" under his breath, as
+he came to the counter and leaned with both elbows upon it.
+
+"Good gracious, boy, what does this mean?" went on the other, in an
+irritable perturbed voice; and he read a short advertisement, written
+in a neat lady-like hand: "Dressmaking undertaken. Terms moderate, and
+all orders promptly executed. Apply to--the Misses Challoner, the
+Friary, Braidwood Road. Ladies waited upon at their own residences'.
+What the"--he was about to add a stronger term, but, in deference to
+Miss Milner, substituted--"dickens does this mean, Dick?"
+
+The young man's reply was to snatch the paper out of his father's
+hand, and study it intently, with his elbows still on the counter, and
+the last bar of "Twickenham Ferry" died away uncompleted on his lips;
+and if any one could have seen his face, they would have remarked a
+curious redness spreading to his forehead.
+
+"Nan's handwriting, by Jove!" he muttered, but still inaudibly; and
+then he stared at the paper, and his face grew redder.
+
+"Well, Dick, can't you answer? What does this piece of tomfoolery
+mean--'dressmaking undertaken--ladies waited upon at their own
+residences'? Can there be two families of Challoner and two Friaries?
+and why don't you speak and say something?"
+
+"Because I know as little as yourself, father," returned the young
+man, without lifting his head; and he surreptitiously conveyed the
+paper to his pocket. "Perhaps this lady," indicating Miss Milner,
+"could inform us?"
+
+"I beg your pardon," observed a gentlemanly voice near them; and,
+looking up, Dick found himself confronted by the young clergyman. "I
+overheard your inquiries, and, as I am acquainted with the ladies in
+question, I may be able to satisfy you."
+
+"I should be extremely obliged to you if you would do so, sir,"
+returned the elder man, with alacrity; but Dick turned away rather
+ungraciously, and his cheerful face grew sullen.
+
+"Confound him! what does he mean by his interference? Knows them,
+indeed! such a handsome beggar, too,--a prig, one can see that from
+the cut of his clothes and beard!" And again he planted his elbows on
+the counter, and began pulling his rough little stubbly moustache.
+
+"If you are referring to a mother and three daughters who live in the
+Friary and eke out a scanty income by taking in dressmaking, I am
+happy to say I know them well," went on Archie. "My sister and I visit
+at the cottage, and they attend my church; and, as Miss Milner can
+tell you, they work hard enough all the six days of the week."
+
+"Indeed, Mr. Drummond, there are few that work harder!" broke in Miss
+Milner, volubly. "Such pretty creatures, too, to earn their own
+living; and yet they have a bright word and a smile for everybody!
+Ever since Miss Phillis," (here Dick groaned) "made that blue dress
+for Mrs. Trimmings--she is the butcher's wife, and a dressy woman,
+though not flashy, like Mrs. Squails--they have been quite the rage in
+Hadleigh. All the townspeople, and the resident gentry, and even the
+visitors, want their gowns made by the Miss Challoners. Their fit is
+perfect; and they have such taste. And----" But here the luckless Dick
+could bear no more.
+
+"If you will excuse me, sir," he said, addressing his bewildered
+father, "I have left something particular at the hotel: I must just
+run and fetch it."
+
+Dick did not specify whether it was his handkerchief, or his
+cigar-case, or his purse, of which he stood so urgently in need; but
+before Mr. Mayne could remonstrate, he had gone out of the shop. He
+went as far as the door of the hotel, and there he seized on a passing
+waiter and questioned him in a breathless manner. Having obtained his
+information, he set off at a walk that was almost a run through the
+town, and down the Braidwood Road. The few foot-passengers that he met
+shrank out of the way of this young man; for he walked, looking
+neither to the right nor to left, as though he saw nothing before him.
+And his eyes were gloomy, and, he did not whistle; and the only words
+he said to himself were, "Oh, Nan, never to have told me of this!"
+over and over again.
+
+The gate of the Friary stood open; for a small boy had been washing
+the flags, and had left his pail, and had gone off to play marbles in
+the road with a younger brother. Dick,--who understood the bearings of
+the case at once, shook his fist at the truant behind his back, and
+then turned in at the gate.
+
+He peeped in at the hall door first; but Dorothy was peeling potatoes
+in the kitchen, and would see him as he passed, so he skirted the
+little path under the yews. And if Dulce had been at her
+sewing-machine as usual, she would have seen him at once; but this
+morning the machine was silent.
+
+A few steps farther he came to a full stop, and his eyes began to
+glisten, and he pricked up his ears after the manner of lovers; for
+through an open window just behind him, he could hear Nan's voice,
+sweet and musical, reading aloud to her sisters.
+
+"Oh, the darling!" he murmured, and composed himself for a few
+moments' ecstasy, for no doubt she was reading Tennyson, or
+Barrett-Browning, or one of the poetry-books he had given her; but he
+was a little disappointed when he found it was prose.
+
+"'With regard to washing-dresses,'" read Nan, in her clear tones,
+"'cottons, as a general thing, have another material made up with
+them; the under-skirt may be of foulard or satin----?'"
+
+"Oh, I dare say! What nonsensical extravagance!" observed Phillis.
+
+"'Or the bodice of surah, satin, cashmere, or llama, and the skirt of
+cotton.... The skirts are nearly always made with single box-pleats,
+with a flat surface in the centre, and a flat band of trimming is
+often stitched on at about five inches from the edge of the flounce.'
+I should say that would be sweetly pretty, dear: we might try it for
+Mrs. Penlip's dress. And just listen to a little more."
+
+"I shall do nothing of the kind," blurted out Dick. "Oh, Nan, Nan! how
+could you be such a traitor?--washing-dresses indeed, and me left in
+ignorance!" And there was Dick, his face glowing and indignant,
+standing in the window, with Laddie barking furiously at him, and his
+outstretched hand nearly touching Nan.
+
+Phillis and Dulce screamed with surprise, being young and easily
+excited; but Nan only said, "Oh, Dick!" very faintly; and her sweet
+face grew red and pale by turns, and her fingers fluttered a little in
+his grasp, but only for joy and the sheer delight of seeing him.
+
+As for Dick, his eyes shone, but his manner was masterful.
+
+"Look here!" he said, drawing Nan's advertisement from his pocket; "we
+had come down here to surprise you girls, and to have a little fun and
+tennis; and I meant to have treated you to the public ground at the
+hotel, as I knew you had only a scrubby little bit of lawn; and this
+is what has met my eyes this morning! You have deceived mother and me;
+you have let us enjoy our holiday, which I didn't a bit, for I had a
+sort of nasty presentiment and a heap of uncomfortable thoughts; and
+all the while you were slaving away at this hideous dressmaking,--I
+wish I could burn the whole rag, tag, and bobtail,--and never let us
+know you wanted anything. And you call that being friends!"
+
+"Yes, and the best of friends, too," responded Phillis, cheerfully,
+for Nan was too much crushed by all this eloquence to answer. "Come
+along, Dulce! don't listen any more to this nonsense, when you know
+mother is wanting us. Dick is all very well when he is in a good
+humor, but time and dressmaking wait for no man." And the young
+hypocrite dragged the unwilling Dulce away. "Can't you leave them
+alone to come to an understanding?" whispered Phillis in her ear, when
+they got outside the door. "I can see it in his eyes; and Nan is on
+the verge of crying, she is so upset with the surprise. And, you
+goose, where are you going now?"
+
+"To mother. Did you not say she wanted us?"
+
+"Oh, you silly child!" returned Phillis, calmly: "does not mother
+always want us? One must say what comes uppermost in one's mind in
+emergencies of this sort. But for me, you would have stood there for
+an hour staring at them. Mother is out, as it happens: if you like we
+will go and meet her. Oh, no, I forgot: Dick is a young man, and it
+would not be proper. Let us go into the kitchen and help Dorothy." And
+away they went.
+
+"Phillis is a trump!" thought Dick, as he shut the door. "I love that
+girl." And then he marched up to Nan, and took her hands boldly.
+
+"Now, Nan you owe me amends for this; at least you will say you are
+sorry."
+
+"No, Dick," hanging her head, for she could not face his look, he was
+so masterful and determined with her, and so unlike the easy Dick of
+old. "I am not a bit sorry: I would not have spoiled your holiday for
+worlds."
+
+"My holiday!--a precious holiday it was without you! A lot of stupid
+climbing, with grinning idiots for company. Well, never mind that,"
+his wrathful tone changing in a moment. "So you kept me in the dark
+just for my own good?"
+
+"Yes, of course, Dick. What an unnecessary question!"
+
+"And you wanted me, Nan?"
+
+"Yes," very faintly, and there was a little tear-drop on one of Nan's
+lashes.
+
+She had been so miserable,--how miserable he would never know; but he
+need not have asked her that.
+
+"Oh, very well: then I won't bother you with any more questions. Now
+we understand each other, and can just go to business."
+
+Nan looked up in his face in alarm. She anticipated another lecture,
+but nothing of the sort came. Dick cleared his throat, got a little
+red, and went on.
+
+"I say settle our business, because we have been as good as engaged
+all these years. You know you belong to me, Nan?"
+
+"Yes, Dick," she returned, obediently; for she was too much taken by
+surprise to know what she ought to say, and the two words escaped from
+her almost unconsciously.
+
+"There never was a time we were not fond of each other,--ever since
+you were so high," pointing to what would represent the height of an
+extremely dwarfish infant of seven or eight months.
+
+"Oh, not so long ago as that," returned Nan, laughing a little.
+
+"Quite as long," repeated Dick, solemnly. "I declare, I have been so
+fond of you all my life, Nan, that I have been the happiest fellow in
+the world. Now, look here; just say after me, 'Dick, I promise on my
+word and honor to marry you.'"
+
+Nan repeated the words, and then she paused in affright.
+
+"But your father!" she gasped,--"and the dressmaking! Oh, Dick! what
+have you made me say? You have startled me into forgetting everything.
+Oh, dear! oh, dear! what shall I do?" continued Nan, in the most
+innocent way. "We shall be engaged all our lives, for he will never
+allow you to marry me. Dick, dear Dick, please let me off! I never
+meant to give in like this."
+
+"Never mind what you meant to do," returned Dick, with the utmost
+gravity: "the thing is, you have done it. On your word and honor, Nan,
+remember. Now we are engaged."
+
+"Oh, but Dick, please don't take such advantage of me, just because I
+said--or, at least, you said--I was fond of you. What will mother say?
+She will be so dreadfully shocked; and it is so cruel to your father.
+I will be engaged to you in a way. I will promise--I will vow, if you
+will--never to marry any one else."
+
+"I should think not," interrupted Dick, fiercely. "I would murder the
+fellow, whoever he was!" and in spite of himself his thought reverted
+to the fair beard and handsome face of the young clergyman.
+
+Nan saw from his obstinate face that her eloquence was all wasted; but
+she made one more attempt, blushing like a rose:
+
+"I will even promise to marry you, if your father gives his consent.
+You know, Dick, I would never go against him."
+
+"Nor I. You ought to know me better, Nan, than to think I should act
+shabbily and leave the dear old fellow in the dark."
+
+"Then you will set me free," marvelling a little over her lover's good
+sense and filial submission.
+
+"As free as an engagement permits. Why, what do you mean, Nan? Have I
+not just told you we are engaged for good and all? Do you suppose I do
+not mean to tell my father so on the first opportunity? There he
+comes! bless the man, I knew he would follow me! Now you shall see how
+I can stick up for the girl I love." But Dick thought it better to
+release the hand he had been holding all this time.
+
+There are certain moments in life when one is in too exalted a mood to
+feel the usual sensations that circumstances might warrant. At another
+time Nan would have been shocked at the condition of her work-room,
+being a tidy little soul, and thrifty as to pins and other odds and
+ends; and the thought of Mr. Mayne coming upon them unexpectedly would
+have frightened her out of her senses.
+
+The room was certainly not in its usual order. There had been much
+business transacted there that morning. The table was strewn with
+breadths of gay _broche_ silk; an unfinished gauzy-looking dress hung
+over a chair; the door of the wardrobe was open, and a row of
+dark-looking shapes--like Bluebeard's decapitated wives--were dimly
+revealed to view. A sort of lay figure, draped in calico, was in one
+corner. As Nan observed to Phillis afterwards, "There was not a tidy
+corner in the whole room."
+
+Nevertheless, the presence of Dick so glorified the place that Nan
+looked around at the chaos quite calmly, as she heard Mr. Mayne's
+sharp voice first inquiring for her mother and then for herself.
+Dorothy, with her usual tact, would have shown him into the little
+parlor; but Nan, who wished for no disguise, stepped forward and threw
+open the door.
+
+"I am here, Dorothy. Come in, Mr. Mayne. Dick is here too, and I am so
+sorry mother is out."
+
+"I might have known that scapegrace would have given me the slip!"
+muttered Mr. Mayne, as he shook hands ungraciously with Nan, and then
+followed her into the work-room.
+
+Dick, who was examining the wardrobe, turned round and saluted his
+father with a condescending nod:
+
+"You were too long with the parson: I could not wait, you see. Did you
+make all these dresses, Nan? You are awfully clever, you girls! They
+look first-rate,--this greeny-browny-yellowish one, for example,"
+pulling out a much furbelowed garment destined for Mrs. Squails.
+
+"Oh, Dick, do please leave them alone!" and Nan authoritatively waved
+him away, and closed the wardrobe.
+
+"I was only admiring your handiwork," returned Dick, imperturbably.
+"Does she not look a charming little dressmaker, father?" regarding
+Nan with undisguised pleasure, as she stood in her pretty bib-apron
+before them.
+
+But Mr. Mayne only drew his heavy eyebrows together, and said,--
+
+"Pshaw, Dick! don't chatter such folly. I want to have some talk with
+Miss Nancy myself."
+
+"All right: I have had my innings," returned naughty Dick; but he shot
+a look at Nan that made her blush to her finger ends, and that was not
+lost on Mr. Mayne.
+
+"Well, now, Miss Nancy, what does all this mean?" he asked, harshly.
+"Here we have run down just in a friendly way,--Dick and I,--leaving
+the mother rather knocked up after her travels at Longmead, to look
+you up and see how you are getting on. And now we find you have been
+deceiving us all along, and keeping us in the dark, and that you are
+making yourselves the talk of the place, sewing a parcel of gowns for
+all the townspeople."
+
+Mr. Mayne did not add that his son had so bothered him for the last
+three weeks to run down to Hadleigh that he had acceded at last to his
+request, in the hope of enjoying a little peace.
+
+"Draw it mild!" muttered Dick, who did not much admire this opening
+tirade; but Nan answered, with much dignity,--
+
+"If people talk about us it is because of the novelty. They have never
+heard of gentle-people doing this sort of work before----"
+
+"I should think not!" wrathfully from Mr. Mayne.
+
+"Things were so bad with us that we should have all had to separate if
+Phillis had not planned this scheme; and then mother would have broken
+her heart; but now we are getting on famously. Our work gives
+satisfaction, we have plenty of orders; we do not forfeit people's
+good opinions, for we have nothing but respect shown us, and----"
+
+But here Mr. Mayne interrupted her flow of quiet eloquence somewhat
+rudely.
+
+"Pack of nonsense!" he exclaimed, angrily. "I wonder at your
+mother,--I do indeed. I thought she had more sense. You have no right
+to outrage your friends in this way! it is treating us badly. What
+will your mother say, Dick? She will be dreadfully shocked. I am sorry
+for you, my boy,--I am indeed: but, under the circumstances----"
+
+But what he was about to add was checked by a very singular proceeding
+on the part of his son; for Dick suddenly took Nan's hand, and drew
+her forward.
+
+"Don't be sorry for me, father: I am the happiest fellow alive. Nan
+and I have come to an understanding at last, after all these years.
+Allow me to present to you the future Mrs. Richard Mayne."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+DICK THINKS OF THE CITY.
+
+
+When Dick had uttered this audacious speech, Mr. Mayne started back,
+and his expression of mingled wrath and dismay was so ludicrous that
+under any other circumstances his son would have found it difficult to
+keep his countenance.
+
+"What! what!" he almost shouted, losing all sense of politeness, and
+even of Nan's presence; "you young fool, what do you mean by trumping
+up this nonsense and presuming to talk to me in this way?"
+
+Dick thought it prudent to drop Nan's hand,--and, indeed, the girl
+shrank away from them both in alarm at this outburst: nevertheless,
+his countenance and bearing maintained the same admirable
+_sang-froid_, as he confronted his angry parent:
+
+"Now, father, what is the use of calling me names? When a fellow is of
+age, and knows his own mind, he does not care a pin for being called a
+fool. 'Hard words break no bones,' as our copy-leaves used to tell
+us,--no, I have not got that quite right; but that is about my
+meaning. Look here, father," he continued, in a coaxing, boyish voice;
+"I have cared for Nan ever since she was a little creature so high,"
+again reverting to the infantile measurement. "I have always meant to
+marry her,--that is, if she would have me," correcting himself, as Nan
+drew herself up a little proudly. "Money or no money, there is not
+another girl in England that I would have for a wife. I would wait for
+her if I had to wait half my life, just the same as she would wait for
+me; and so, as I said before, when a fellow has made up his mind,
+there is nothing more to say." And here Dick pursed up his lips for a
+whistle, but thought better of it, and fell to twisting and untwisting
+the ends of his sandy moustache.
+
+Nan's downcast eyes revealed nothing. But if Dick could only have seen
+the happy look in them! What eloquence could ever have been so dear to
+her as that clear rough-and-ready statement of her lover's feelings
+for her? "There is not another girl in England that I would have for a
+wife." Could anything surpass the beauty of that sentence? Oh, how
+manly, how true he was, this Dick of hers!
+
+"Oh, indeed! I am to say nothing, am I?" returned Mr. Mayne, with
+exquisite irony. "My son is to dictate to me; and I am to be silent!
+Oh, you young fool!" he muttered under his breath; but then for the
+moment words seemed to fail him.
+
+In spite of the wrath that was boiling within him, and to which he did
+not dare give vent in Nan's presence, in spite of the grief and
+disappointment that his son's defiance had caused him, Dick's bearing
+filled him with admiration and amazement.
+
+This boy of his was worth something, he thought. He had a clear head
+of his own, and could speak to some purpose. Was a likely young fellow
+like this to be thrown away on that Challoner girl? Poor Nan! Pretty
+and blooming as she looked, Mr. Mayne felt almost as though he hated
+her. Why had she come between his boy and him? Had he a dozen sons,
+that he could spare one of them? Was not Dick his only one,--the son
+of his right hand, his sole hope and ambition? Mr. Mayne could have
+wept as these thoughts passed through his mind.
+
+It was at this moment that Nan thought it right to speak. Dick had had
+his say, but it was not for her to be silent.
+
+"Mr. Mayne, please listen to me a moment," she said, pleadingly. "No;
+I must speak to your father," as Dick, much alarmed, tried to silence
+her. "He must not think hard things of us, and misunderstand us."
+
+"No, dear; indeed you had better be silent!" implored Dick, anxiously;
+but Nan for once turned a deaf ear to him.
+
+"I must speak," she persisted. "Mr. Mayne, it is quite true what Dick
+says: we have been together all our lives, and have grown to care for
+each other. I cannot remember the time,"--the tears coming into her
+bright eyes--"when Dick was not more to me than a brother; it is all
+of such long standing, it is far, far too late to stop it now."
+
+"We shall see about that, Miss Nancy," muttered Mr. Mayne, between his
+teeth; but the girl did not seem to hear him.
+
+"Dick took me by surprise just now. I ought to have been more on my
+guard, and not have given him that promise."
+
+"What promise?" demanded Mr. Mayne, harshly; and Nan hung her head,
+and returned, shyly,--
+
+"That I would marry him some time; but indeed--indeed he made me say
+it, and I was so taken by surprise. No, Dick; you must let me finish,"
+for Dick was looking at her with piteous entreaty in his eyes. "I know
+we were wrong to say so much without your leave; but indeed I will do
+your son no harm. I cannot marry any one else, because I am engaged to
+him; but as far as he is concerned he is free. I will never marry him
+without your permission; he shall not come here if you do not wish;
+but do not be so angry with us;" and here her lip quivered. "If you
+did not mean this to happen, you should have kept us apart all these
+years."
+
+"Oh, hush, dear!" whispered Dick in her ear; but Mr Mayne almost
+thrust him aside, and laid a rough grasp on the girl's wrist. "Never
+mind him: answer me one question. Are you serious in what you say,
+that you will never marry him without my permission?"
+
+"Of course I will not," answered Nan, quite shocked. "Dick would not
+ask me to do such a thing; he is far too honorable, and--and--no one
+would think of such a thing."
+
+"Very well; that is all I wanted to know;" and he released her, not
+over-gently: "the rest I can settle with Master Dick himself.
+Good-morning, Miss Nancy: under the circumstances I do not think I
+will wait to see your mother. I am not quite in the mood for ladies;
+perhaps, later on, I may have something to say to her."
+
+"Don't you mean to shake hands with me, Mr. Mayne?" asked poor Nan,
+much distressed at the evil temper of Dick's father; but there was no
+sign of softening.
+
+"Yes; I will shake hands with you, and gladly, if you will promise to
+be sensible and send this boy of mine about his business. Come now,
+Nan; own for my comfort that it is only a bit of boy-and-girl
+nonsense, that means nothing. I am not over-particular, and do not
+object to a bit of flirting with young folk."
+
+"You had better go with your father, Dick," returned Nan, with much
+dignity, and quite ignoring this speech.
+
+Dick seized the little hand that had been so rudely rejected, and
+kissed it under his father's eyes.
+
+"I will see you again somehow," he whispered, and Nan was quite
+content with this promise. Dick would keep his word, she knew: he
+would not leave Hadleigh without seeing her.
+
+A very unpleasant hour ensued for poor Dick. Mr. Mayne in one of his
+worst tempers; he had conducted himself to Nan in an ungentlemanly
+manner, and he knew it; as Dick said to himself,--
+
+"It is very hard on a fellow when one's father acts like a cad."
+
+Mr. Mayne had shown himself a cad. No gentleman by birth or breeding
+would have conducted himself in that offensive way. Bad temper had
+broken down the trammels of conventionality: never before in his life
+had Dick felt so utterly ashamed of his father. Mr. Mayne was
+conscious of his son's criticism, and it made things worse.
+
+It spoke well for Dick's prudence and self-command that he let the
+storm of his father's anger break over his head, and said no word. Mr.
+Mayne ranted and raved; I am afraid he even swore once or twice,--at
+least his language was undesirably strong,--and Dick walked beside him
+and held his peace. "Poor old boy, he is terribly cut up about this!"
+he thought once.
+
+Mr. Drummond saw them coming along, and wondered at the energy of the
+older man. Was it the visit to the Friary that had put him out? and
+then he fell anew into cogitation. Who were these people who were so
+curious about the Challoners? At least that sulky young fellow had
+taken no apparent interest, for he had made an excuse to leave them;
+but the other one had persisted in very close investigation. Perhaps
+he was some relation,--an uncle, or a distant cousin; evidently he had
+some right or claim to be displeased. Archie determined to solve the
+mystery as soon as possible.
+
+"Well, sir, have you nothing to say for yourself?" demanded Mr. Mayne,
+when he had fairly exhausted himself. He had disinherited Dick half a
+dozen times; he had deprived him of his liberal allowance; he had
+spoken of a projected voyage to New Zealand: and Dick had only walked
+on steadily, and thought of the cold trembling little hand he had
+kissed. "Have you nothing to say for yourself?" he vociferated.
+
+Dick woke up at this.
+
+"Oh, yes, I have plenty to say," he returned cheerfully; "but two
+cannot talk at once, you know. It was right for you to have the first
+innings, and all that; and I say, father,"--his filial feelings coming
+to the surface,--"I am awfully sorry, and so is Nan, to see you so
+vexed."
+
+"Speak for yourself," was the wrathful answer. "Don't mention that
+girl's name in my hearing for the present."
+
+"Whose name?--Nan's?" returned Dick, innocently. "I don't see how we
+are to keep it out of the conversation, when the row is all about her.
+Look here, father: I say again I am awfully sorry you are vexed; but
+as N--she says, it is too late to mend matters now. I have made my
+choice, for better for worse, and I am sorry it does not please you."
+
+"Please me!" retorted Mr. Mayne; and then he added, venomously: "The
+girl said you would not marry without my permission; but I will never
+give it. Come, Dick, it is no use thwarting me in this: you are our
+only child and we have other plans for you. Pshaw! you are only a boy!
+You have not seen the world yet. There are dozens of girls far
+prettier than this Nan. Give this nonsense up, and there is nothing I
+will not do for you; you shall travel, have your liberty, do as you
+like for the next two or three years, and I will not worry you about
+marrying. Why, you are only one-and-twenty; and you have two more
+years of University life! What an idea,--a fine young fellow like you
+talking of tying yourself down to matrimony!"
+
+"There is no use in my going back to Oxford, father," returned Dick,
+steadily; "thank you kindly all the same, but, it would be sheer waste
+of money. I have made up my mind to go into the City; it is the
+fashionable thing nowadays. And one does not need Greek and Latin for
+that, though, of course, it is an advantage to a fellow, and gives him
+a standing; but, as I have to get my own living, I cannot afford the
+two years. Your old chums Stanfield & Stanfield would give me a berth
+at once."
+
+"Is the boy mad? What on earth do you mean by all this tomfoolery?"
+demanded Mr. Mayne, unable to believe his ears. His small gray eyes
+opened widely and irately on his son; but Dick took no notice. He
+walked on, with his shoulders looking rather square and determined;
+the corners of his mouth were working rebelliously: evidently he did
+not dare to look at his father for fear of breaking into
+incontrollable laughter. Really the dear old boy was getting too
+absurd; he--Dick--could not stand it much longer. "What in the name of
+all that is foolish do you mean, sir?" thundered Mr. Mayne.
+
+Dick executed a low whistle, and then he said, in an aggrieved
+voice,--
+
+"Well, father, I don't call you very consistent. I suppose I know what
+being disinherited means? In plain language, you have told me about
+half a dozen times that if I stick to Nan I am not to expect a
+shilling of your money. Now, in my own mind, of course I call that
+precious hard on a fellow, considering I have not been such a bad
+sort of son after all. But I am not going to quarrel with you about
+that: a man has a right to do as he likes with his own money."
+
+"Yes; but, Dick, you are going to be sensible, you know, and drop the
+girl?" in a wheedling sort of tone.
+
+"Excuse me, father; I am going to do nothing of the kind," returned
+Dick, with sudden firmness. "I am going to stick to her, as you did to
+my mother; and for just as long, if it must be so. I am not a bit
+afraid that you will not give your permission, if we only wait long
+enough to prove that we are in earnest. The only thing I am anxious
+about is how I am to get my living; and that is why I will not consent
+to waste any more time at the University. The bar is too uphill work;
+money is made quickest in the City: so, if you will be good enough to
+give me an introduction to Stanfield & Stanfield,--I know they are a
+rattling good sort of people,--that is all I will trouble you about at
+present." And Dick drew in a long breath of relief after this weighty
+speech.
+
+"Do you mean this, Dick?" asked Mr. Mayne, rather feebly.
+
+They had reached the hotel now, and, as they entered the private room
+where their luncheon was awaiting them, he sat down as though he had
+grown suddenly old and tired, and rested his head on his hand, perhaps
+to hide the moisture that had gathered under his shaggy eyebrows.
+
+"Yes, father, I do," returned Dick; but he spoke very gently, and his
+hand touched his father's shoulder caressingly. "Let me give you some
+wine: all this business has taken it out of you."
+
+"Yes, I have had a blow, Dick,--my only boy has given me a blow,"
+returned Mr. Mayne, pathetically; but as he took the wine his hand
+trembled.
+
+"I am awfully sorry," answered Dick, penitently: "if there were
+anything else you had asked me but this--but I cannot give up Nan."
+And, as he pronounced the name, Dick's eyes shone with pride and
+tenderness. He was a soft-hearted, affectionate young fellow, and this
+quarrel with his father was costing him a great deal of pain. In
+everything else he would have been submissive to his parents; but now
+he had a purpose and responsibility in his life: he had to be faithful
+to the girl whom he had won; he must think for her now as well as for
+himself. How sweet was this sense of dual existence, this unity of
+heart and aim!
+
+Mr. Mayne fairly groaned as he read the expression on his son's face.
+Dick's youthful countenance was stamped with honest resolution. "I am
+going to stick to her, as you did to my mother."--that was what he had
+said. If this were true, it was all over with Dick's chances with the
+pretty little heiress; he would never look at her or her thirty
+thousand pounds; "but all the same he, Richard Mayne, would never
+consent to his son marrying a dressmaker. If she had only not
+disgraced herself, if she had not brought this humiliation on them, he
+might have been brought to listen to their pleading in good time and
+at his own pleasure; but now, never!--never!" he muttered, and set his
+teeth hard.
+
+"Dick," he said, suddenly, for there had been utter silence for a
+space.
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"You have upset me very much, and made me very unhappy; but I wish you
+to say nothing to your mother, and we will talk about this again.
+Promise me one thing,--that you will go back to Oxford at least until
+Christmas."
+
+"What is the good of that, sir?" asked his son, dubiously.
+
+"What is the good of anything? for you have taken every bit of
+pleasure out of my life; but at least you can do as much as this for
+me."
+
+"Oh, yes, father, if you wish it," returned Dick, more cheerfully;
+"but all the same I have fixed upon a City life."
+
+"We will talk of that again," replied his father; "and, Dick, we go
+home to-morrow, and, unless you promise me not to come down to
+Hadleigh between this and Christmas, I shall be obliged to speak to
+Mrs. Challoner."
+
+"Oh, there is no need for that," returned Dick, sulkily.
+
+"You give me your word?"
+
+"Oh, yes," pushing aside his chair with a kick. "It would be no use
+coming down to Hadleigh, for Nan would not speak to me. I know her too
+well for that. She has got such a conscience, you know. I shall write
+to her, but I do not know if she will answer my letters; but it does
+not matter: we shall both be true as steel. If you don't want me any
+more, I think I will have a cigar on the beach, for this room is
+confoundedly hot." And, without waiting for permission, Dick strode
+off, still sulky and fully aware that his father meant to follow him,
+for fear of his footsteps straying again down the Braidwood Road.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+"DICK IS TO BE OUR REAL BROTHER."
+
+
+Never was a father more devoted to his son's company than Mr. Mayne
+was that day. Dick's cigar was hardly alight before his father had
+joined him. When Dick grew weary of throwing stones aimlessly at
+imaginary objects, and voted the beach slow, Mr. Mayne proposed a walk
+with alacrity. They dined together,--not talking much, it is true, for
+Dick was still sulky, and his father tired and inclined to headache,
+but keeping up a show of conversation for the waiter's benefit. But
+when that functionary had retired, and the wine was on the table,
+Dick made no further effort to be agreeable, but placed himself in the
+window-seat and stared moodily at the sea, while his father watched
+him and drank his wine in silence.
+
+Mr. Mayne was fighting against drowsiness valiantly.
+
+Dick knew this, and was waiting for an opportunity to make his
+escape.
+
+"Had we not better ring for lights and coffee?" asked his father, as
+he felt the first ominous sensations stealing over him.
+
+"Not just yet. I feel rather disposed for a nap myself; and it is a
+shame to shut out the moonlight," returned that wicked Dick, calling
+up a fib to his aid, and closing his eyes as he spoke.
+
+The bait took. In another five minutes Mr. Mayne was nodding in
+earnest, and Dick on tiptoe had just softly closed the door behind
+him, and was taking his straw hat from its peg.
+
+Nan was walking up and down the little dark lawn, feeling restless and
+out of sorts after the agitation of the morning, when she heard a low
+whistle at the other side of the wall, and her heart felt suddenly as
+light as a feather.
+
+Dick saw her white gown as she came down the flagged path to the gate
+to let him in. The moonlight seemed to light it up with a sort of
+glory.
+
+"You are a darling not to keep me waiting, for we have not a moment to
+lose," he whispered, as she came up close to him. "He is asleep now,
+but he will wake up as soon as he misses me. Have you expected me
+before, Nan? But indeed I have not been left to myself a moment."
+
+"Oh, I knew all about it, my poor Dick," she answered, looking at him
+so softly. "Phillis is reading to mother in the parlor, and Dulce is
+in the work-room. I have nowhere to ask you unless you come in and
+talk to them. But mother is too upset to see you, I am afraid."
+
+"Let us wait here," returned Dick, boldly. "No one can hear what we
+say, and I must speak to you alone. No; I had better not see your
+mother to-night, and the girls would be in the way. Shall you be
+tired, dear, if you stand out here a moment talking to me? for I dare
+not wait long."
+
+"Oh, no, I shall not be tired," answered Nan gently. Tired, when she
+had her own Dick near her!--when she could speak to him,--look at
+him!
+
+"All right; but it is my duty to look after you, now you belong to
+me," returned Dick, proudly. "Whatever happens,--however long we may
+be separated,--you must remember that--that you belong to me,--that
+you will have to account to me if you do not take care of yourself."
+
+Nan smiled happily at this, and then she said,--
+
+"I have told mother all about it, and she is dreadfully distressed
+about your father's anger. She cried so, and took his part, and said
+she did not wonder that he would not listen to us; he would feel it
+such a disgrace, his son wanting to marry a dressmaker. She made me
+unhappy, too, when she put it all before me in that way," and here
+Nan's face paled perceptibly in the moonlight, "for she made me see
+how hard it is on him, and on your mother, too! Oh, Dick don't you
+think you ought to listen to them, and not have anything more to do
+with me?"
+
+"Nan, I am shocked at you!"
+
+"But, Dick!"
+
+"I tell you I am utterly shocked! You to say such a thing to my face,
+when we have been as good as engaged to each other all our lives! Who
+cares for the trumpery dressmaking? Not I!"
+
+"But your father!" persisted Nan, but very faintly, for Dick's eyes
+were blazing with anger.
+
+"Not another word! Nan, how dare you--after what you have promised
+this morning! Have I not been worried and badgered enough, without
+your turning on me in this way? If you won't marry me, you won't; but
+I shall be a bachelor all my life for your sake!" and Dick, who was so
+sore, poor fellow, that he was ready to quarrel with her out of the
+very fulness of his love, actually made a movement as though to leave
+her, only Nan caught him by the arm in quite a frightened way.
+
+"Dick! dear Dick!"
+
+"Well?" rather sullenly.
+
+"Oh, don't leave me like this! It would break my heart! I did not mean
+to make you angry. I was only pleading with you for your own good. Of
+course I will keep my promise. Have I not been true to you all my
+life? Oh, Dick! how can you turn from me like this?" And Nan actually
+began to sob in earnest, only Dick's sweet temper returned in a moment
+at the sight of her distress, and he fell to comforting her with all
+his might; and after this things went on more smoothly.
+
+He told her about his conversation with his father, and how he had
+planned a city life for himself; but here Nan timidly interposed:
+
+"Would that not be a pity, when you had always meant to study for the
+bar?"
+
+"Not a bit of it," was the confident answer. "That was my father's
+wish, not mine. I don't mind telling you in confidence that I am not
+at all a shining light. I am afraid I am rather a duffer, and shall
+not make my mark in the world. I have always thought desk-work must be
+rather a bore; but, after all, with a good introduction and a
+tolerable berth, one is pretty sure of getting on in the City. What I
+want is to make a little nest cosey for somebody, and as quick as
+possible,--eh, Nan?"
+
+"I do not mind waiting," faltered Nan. But she felt at this moment
+that no lover could have been so absolutely perfect as her Dick.
+
+"Oh, that is what girls always say," returned Dick, rather loftily.
+"They are never in a hurry. They would wait seven--ten years,--half a
+lifetime. But with us men it is different. I am not a bit afraid of
+you. I know you will stick to me like a brick, and all that; and
+father will come round when he sees we are in earnest. But all the
+same I want to have you to myself as soon as possible. A fellow likes
+the feeling of working for his wife. I hate to think of these pretty
+fingers stitching away for other people. I want them to work for me:
+do you understand, Nan?'" And Nan, of course, understood.
+
+Dick, poor fellow, had not much time for his love-making, he and Nan
+had too much business to settle. Nan had to explain to him that her
+mother was of opinion that under the present circumstances, nothing
+ought to be done to excite Mr. Mayne's wrath. Dick might write to her
+mother sometimes, just to let them know how he was getting on; but
+between the young people themselves there must be no correspondence.
+
+"Mother says it will not be honorable, and that we are not properly
+engaged." And, though Dick combated this rather stoutly, he gave in at
+last, and agreed that, until the new year, he would not claim his
+rights, or infringe the sacred privacy of the Friary.
+
+"And now I must go," said Dick, with a great sigh; "and it is good-bye
+for months. Now, I do not mean to ask your leave,--for you are such a
+girl for scruples, and all that, and you might take it into your head
+to refuse me: so there!"
+
+Dick's words were mysterious; but he very soon made his meaning
+plain.
+
+Nan said, "Oh, Dick!" but made no further protest. After all, whatever
+Mr. Mayne and her mother said, they were engaged.
+
+As Dick closed the little gate behind him, he was aware of a tall
+figure looming in the darkness.
+
+"Confound that parson! What does he mean by loafing about here?" he
+thought, feeling something like a pugnacious bull-dog at the prospect
+of a possible rival. "I forgot to ask Nan about him; but I dare say he
+is after one of the other girls." But these reflections were nipped in
+the bud, as the short, sturdy form of Mr. Mayne was dimly visible in
+the road.
+
+Dick chuckled softly: he could not help it.
+
+"All right, dear old boy," he said to himself; and then he stepped up
+briskly, and took his father's arm.
+
+"Do you call this honorable, sir?" began Mr. Mayne, in a most
+irascible voice.
+
+"I call it very neat," returned Dick, cheerfully. "My dear pater,
+everything is fair in love and war; and if you will nap at
+unseasonable times--but that comes of early rising, as I have often
+told you."
+
+"Hold your tongue, sir!" was the violent rejoinder. "It is a mean
+trick you have served me, and you know it. We will go back to-night;
+nothing will induce me to sleep in this place. You are not to be
+trusted. You told me a downright lie. You were humbugging me, sir,
+with your naps."
+
+"I will plead guilty to a fib, if you like," was Dick's careless
+answer. "What a fuss you are making, father! Did you never tell one in
+your life? Now, what is the use of putting yourself out?--it is not
+good at your age, sir. What would my mother say? It might bring on
+apoplexy, after that port-wine."
+
+"Confound your impertinence!" rejoined Mr. Mayne, angrily; but Dick
+patted his coat-sleeve pleasantly:
+
+"There, that will do. I think you have relieved your feelings
+sufficiently. Now we will go to business. I have seen Nan, and told
+her all about it; and she has had it out with her mother. Mrs.
+Challoner will not hear of our writing to each other; and I am not to
+show my face at the Friary without your permission. There is no
+fibbing or want of honor there: Nan is not the girl to encourage a
+fellow to take liberties."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" sneered Mr. Mayne; but he listened attentively for all
+that. And his gloomy eyebrows relaxed in the darkness. The girl was
+not behaving so badly, after all.
+
+"So we said good-bye," continued Dick, keeping the latter part of the
+interview to himself; "and in October I shall go back for the term, as
+I promised. We can settle about the other things after Christmas."
+
+"Oh, yes, we can talk about that by and by," replied his father,
+hastily; and then he waxed cheerful all at once, and called his son's
+attention to some new houses they were building. "After all, Hadleigh
+is not such a bad little place," he observed; "and they gave us a very
+good dinner at the hotel. It is not every one who can cook fish like
+that." And then Dick knew that the storm had blown over for the
+present, and that his father intended to make himself pleasant and
+ignore all troublesome topics.
+
+Dick was a little tired when he went to bed; but, on the whole, he was
+not unhappy. It was quite true that the idea of a City life was
+repugnant to him, but the thought of Nan sweetened even that. Nothing
+else remained to him if his father chose to be disagreeable and
+withdraw his allowance, or threaten to cut him off with a shilling, as
+other fellows' fathers did in novels.
+
+"It is uncommonly unpleasant, having to wage war with one's own
+father," thought Dick, as he laid his sandy head on the pillow. "He is
+such an old trump, too, that it goes against the grain. But when it
+comes to his wanting to choose a wife for me, it is too much of a good
+thing: it is tyranny fit for the Middle Ages. Let him threaten if he
+likes. He will find I shall take his threats in earnest. After
+Christmas I will have it out with him again; and if he will not listen
+to reason, I will go up to Mr. James Stanfield myself, and then he
+will see that I mean what I say. Heigho! I am not such a lucky fellow
+as Hamilton always thinks me." And at this juncture of his sad
+cogitations Dick forgot all about it, and fell asleep.
+
+Yes, Dick slept the sleep of the just. It was Mr. Drummond who was
+wakeful and uneasy that night. A vague sense of something wrong
+tormented him waking and sleeping.
+
+Who was that sandy-headed young fellow who had been twice to the
+Friary that day. What business had he to be shutting the gate after
+him in that free-and-easy way at ten o'clock at night? He must find it
+out somehow; he must make an excuse for calling there, and put the
+question as indifferently as he could; but even when he made up his
+mind to pursue this course, Archie felt just as restless as ever.
+
+He made his way to the cottage as early as possible. Phillis, who was
+alone in the work-room, colored a little as she saw him coming in at
+the gate. He came so often, he was so kind, so attentive to them all,
+and yet she had a dim doubt in her mind that troubled her at times.
+Was it for Nan's sake that he came? Could she speak and undeceive him
+before things went too far with him? Yes, when the opportunity
+offered, she thought she could speak, even though the speaking would
+be painful to her.
+
+Mr. Drummond looked round the room with a disappointed air as he
+entered, and then he came up to Phillis.
+
+"You are alone?" he said, with a regretful accent in his voice; at
+least Phillis fancied she detected it. "How is that? Are your sisters
+out, or busy?"
+
+"Oh, we are always busy," returned Phillis, lightly; but, curiously
+enough, she felt a little sore at his tone. "Nan has gone down to
+Albert Terrace to take a fresh order, and Dulce is in the town
+somewhere with mother. Don't you mean to sit down, Mr. Drummond? or is
+your business with mother? She will not be back just yet, but I could
+give her any message." Phillis said this as she stitched away with
+energy; but one quick glance had shown her that Mr. Drummond was
+looking irresolute and ill at ease as he stood beside her.
+
+"Thank you, but I must not stay and hinder you. Yes, my business was
+with your mother; but it is of no consequence, and I can call again."
+Nevertheless, he sat down and deposited his felt hat awkwardly enough
+on the table. He liked Phillis, but he was a little afraid of her; she
+was shrewd, and seemed to have the knack of reading one's thoughts. He
+was wondering how he should bring his question on the _tapis_; but
+Phillis, by some marvellous intuition that really surprised her, had
+already come to the conclusion that this visit meant something. He had
+seen Dick; perhaps he wanted to find out all about him. Certainly he
+was not quite himself to-day. Yes, that must be what he wanted.
+Phillis's kind heart and mother-wit were always ready for an
+emergency.
+
+"How full Hadleigh is getting!" she remarked, pleasantly, as she
+adjusted the trimming of a sleeve. "Do you know some old neighbors of
+ours from Oldfield turned up unexpectedly yesterday? They are going
+away to-day, though," she added, with a little regret in her voice.
+
+Archie brightened up visibly at this.
+
+"Oh, indeed!" he observed, with alacrity. "Not a very long visit.
+Perhaps they came down purposely to see you?"
+
+"Yes, of course," returned Phillis, confusedly. "They had intended
+staying some days at the hotel, but Mr. Mayne suddenly changed his
+mind, much to our and Dick's disappointment; but it could not be
+helped."
+
+"Dick," echoed Archie, a little surprised at this familiarity and then
+he added, somewhat awkwardly, "I think I saw the young man and his
+father at the Library yesterday; and last night as I was coming from
+the station I encountered him again at your gate."
+
+"Yes, that was Dick," answered Phillis, stooping a little over her
+work. "He is not handsome, poor fellow! but he is as nice as possible.
+They live at Longmead; that is next door to our dear old Glen Cottage,
+and the gardens adjoin. We call him Dick because we have known him all
+our lives, and he has been a sort of brother to us."
+
+"Oh, yes, I see," drawled Archie, slowly. "That sort of thing is very
+nice when you have not a man belonging to you. It is a little awkward
+sometimes, for people do not always see this sort of relationship. He
+seemed a nice sort of fellow, I should say," he continued, in his
+patronizing way, stroking his beard complacently. After all, the
+sandy-headed youth was no possible rival.
+
+"Oh, Dick is ever so nice," answered Phillis, enthusiastically; "not
+good enough for--" and then she stopped and broke her thread. "I am
+glad we are so fond of him," she continued, rather hurriedly, "because
+Dick is to be our real brother some day. He and Nan have cared for
+each other all their lives, and, though Mr. Mayne is dreadfully angry
+about it, they consider themselves as good as engaged, and mean to
+live down his opposition. They came to an understanding yesterday,"
+finished Phillis, who was determined to bring it all out.
+
+"Oh, indeed!" returned Archie: "that must be a great relief, I am
+sure. There is your little dog whining at the door; may I let him in?"
+And, without waiting for an answer, Archie had darted out in pursuit
+of Laddie, but not before Phillis's swift upward glance had shown her
+a face that had grown perceptibly paler in the last few minutes.
+
+"Oh, poor fellow! I was right!" thought Phillis, and the tears rushed
+to her eyes. "It was best to speak. I see that now; and he will get
+over it if he thinks no one knows it. How I wish I could help him! but
+it will never do to show the least sympathy: I have no right." And
+here Phillis sighed, and her gray eyes grew dark with pain for a
+moment. Archie was rather a long time absent; and then he came back
+with Laddie in his arms, and stood by the window.
+
+"Your news has interested me very much," he said, and his voice was
+quite steady. "I suppose, as this--this engagement is not public, I
+had better not wish your sister joy, unless you do it for me."
+
+"Oh, no; there is no need of that," returned Phillis, in a low voice.
+"Mother might not like my mentioning it; but I thought you might
+wonder about Dick, and----" here Phillis got confused.
+
+"Thank you," replied Archie, quietly; but now he looked at her. "You
+are very kind. Yes, it was best for me to know." And then, as Phillis
+rose and gave him her hand, for he had taken up his hat as he spoke,
+she read at once that her caution had been in vain,--that he had full
+understanding why the news had been told to him, and to him only, and
+that he was grateful to her for so telling him.
+
+Poor Phillis! she had accomplished her task; and yet as the door
+closed behind the young clergyman, two or three tears fell on her
+work. He was not angry with her; on the contrary, he had thanked her,
+and the grasp of his hand had been as cordial as ever. But, in spite
+of the steadiness of his voice and look, the arrow had pierced between
+the joints of his armor. He might not be fatally wounded,--that was
+not in the girl's power to know; but that he was in some way
+hurt,--made miserable with a man's misery,--of this she was acutely
+sensible; and the strangest longing to comfort him--to tell him how
+much she admired his fortitude--came over her, with a strong stinging
+pain that surprised her.
+
+Archie had the longest walk that day that he had ever had in his life.
+He came in quite fagged and foot-sore to his dinner, and far too tired
+to eat. Mattie told him he looked ill and worn out; but, though he
+generally resented any such personal remarks, he merely told her very
+gently that he was tired, and that he would like a cup of coffee in
+his study, and not to be disturbed. And when she took in the coffee
+presently, she found him buried in the depths of his easy-chair, and
+evidently half asleep, and stole out of the room on tiptoe.
+
+But his eyes opened very speedily as soon as the door closed upon her.
+It was not sleep he wanted, but some moral strength to bear a pain
+that threatened to be unendurable. How had that girl read his secret?
+Surely he had not betrayed himself! Nan had not discovered it, for her
+calmness and sweet unconsciousness had never varied in his presence.
+Never for an instant had her changing color testified to the faintest
+uneasiness. He understood the reason of her reserve now. Her thoughts
+had been with this Dick; and here Archie groaned and hid his face.
+
+Not mortally hurt, perhaps; but still the pain and the sense of loss
+were very bitter to this young man, who had felt for weeks past that
+his life was permeated by the sweetness and graciousness of Nan's
+presence. How lovely she had seemed to him,--the ideal girl of his
+dreams! It was love at first sight. He knew that now. His man's heart
+had been set on the hope of winning her, and now she was lost to him.
+
+Never for one moment had she belonged to him, or could belong to him.
+"He and Nan have cared for each other all their lives,"--that was what
+her sister had told him; and what remained but for him to stamp out
+this craze and fever before it mastered him and robbed him of his
+peace?
+
+"I am not the only man who has had to suffer," thought Archie, as
+hours after he stumbled up to bed in the darkness. "At least, it makes
+it easier to know that no one shares my pain. These things are better
+battled out alone. I could not bear even Grace's sympathy in this."
+And yet as Archie said this to himself, he recalled without any
+bitterness the half-tender, half pitying look in Phillis's eyes. "She
+was sorry for me. She saw it all; and it was kind of her to tell me,"
+thought the young man.
+
+He had no idea that Phillis was at that moment whispering little
+wistful prayers in the darkness that he might soon be comforted.
+
+Who knows how many such prayers are flung out into the deep of God's
+mercy,--comfort for such a one whom we would fain comfort ourselves;
+feeble utterances and cries of pity; the stretching out of helpless
+hands, which nevertheless may bring down blessings? But so it shall be
+while men and women struggle and fall, and weep the tears common to
+humanity, "until all eyes are dried in the clear light of eternity,
+and the sorest heart shall then own the wisdom of the cross that had
+been laid upon them."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+"THIS IS LIFE AND DEATH TO ME."
+
+
+Phillis found it difficult during the next few days to reconcile
+divided sympathies; a nice adjustment of conflicting feelings seemed
+almost impossible. Nan was so simply, so transparently happy, that no
+sister worthy of the name could refuse to rejoice with her: a creature
+so brimming over with gladness, with contented love, was certain to
+reflect heart-sunshine. On the other hand, there was Mr. Drummond! To
+be glad and sorry in a breath was as provoking to a feeling woman as
+the traveller's blowing hot and cold was to the satyr in the fable.
+
+In trying to preserve an even balance Phillis became decidedly cross.
+She was one who liked a clear temperature,--neither torrid nor frigid.
+Too much susceptibility gave her an east-windy feeling; to be always
+at the fever-point of sympathy with one's fellow-creatures would not
+have suited her at all.
+
+Nan, who possessed more sweetness of temper than keenness of
+psychological insight, could not understand what had come to Phillis.
+She was absent, a trifle sad, and yet full of retort. At times she
+seemed to brim over with a wordy wisdom that made no sort of
+impression.
+
+One evening, as they were retiring to bed, Nan beckoned her into her
+little room, and shut the door. Then she placed a seat invitingly by
+the open window, which was pleasantly framed by jasmine; and then she
+took hold of Phillis's shoulders in a persuasive manner.
+
+"Now, dear," she said, coaxingly, "you shall just tell me all about
+it."
+
+Phillis looked up, a little startled. Then, as she met Nan's gentle,
+penetrative glance, she presented a sudden blank of non-comprehension,
+most telling on such occasions, and yawned slightly.
+
+"What do you mean, Nannie?" in a somewhat bored tone.
+
+"Come, dear, tell me," continued Nan, with cheerful pertinacity. "You
+are never dull or touchy without some good reason. What has been the
+matter the last few days? Are you vexed or disappointed about
+anything? Are you sure--quite sure you are pleased about Dick?"--the
+idea occurring to her suddenly that Phillis might not approve of their
+imprudent engagement.
+
+"Oh, Nannie, how absurd you are!" returned Phillis, pettishly. "Have I
+not told you a dozen times since Wednesday how delighted I am that you
+have come to an understanding? Have I not sounded his praises until I
+was hoarse? Why, if I had been in love with Dick myself I could not
+have talked about him more."
+
+"Yes, I know you have been very good, dear; but still I felt there was
+something."
+
+"Oh, dear, no!" returned Phillis decidedly, and her voice was a little
+hard. "The fact is, you are in the seventh heaven yourself, and you
+expect us to be there too. Not that I wonder at you, Nannie, because
+Dick--dear old fellow--is ever so nice."
+
+She threw in this last clause not without intention, and of course the
+tempting bait took at once.
+
+"I never knew any one half so good," replied Nan, in a calmly
+satisfied tone. "You have hinted once or twice, Phil, that you thought
+him rather too young,--that our being the same age was a pity; but--do
+you know?--in Dick's case it does not matter in the least. No man
+double his age could have made his meaning more plain, or have spoken
+better to the purpose. He is so strong and self-reliant and manly: and
+with all his fun, he is so unselfish."
+
+"He will make you a very good husband, Nan; I am sure of that."
+
+"I think he will," returned Nan, with a far-away look in her eyes.
+She was recalling Dick's speech about the nest that he wanted to make
+cosey for some one. "Phil, dear," she went on, after this blissful
+pause, "I wish you had a Dick too."
+
+"Good Gracious, Nannie!"
+
+"I mean--you know what I mean,--some one to whom you are first, and
+who has a right to care for you; it gives such a meaning to one's
+life. Of course it will come in time; no one can look at you and not
+prophesy a happy future: it is only I who am impatient and want it to
+come soon."
+
+Phillis wrinkled her brows thoughtfully over this speech: she seemed
+inclined to digest and assimilate it.
+
+"I dare say you are right," she replied, after a pause. "Yes it would
+be nice, no doubt."
+
+"When the real _he_ comes, you will find how nice it is," rejoined
+Nan, with sympathetic readiness. "Do you know, Phil, the idea has once
+or twice occurred to me that Mr. Drummond comes rather often!" But
+here Phillis shook off her hand and started from her chair.
+
+"There is a moth singing its wings. Poor wee beastie! let me save it,
+if it be not too late." And she chased the insect most patiently until
+the blue-gray wings fluttered into her hand.
+
+"There, I have saved him from utter destruction!" she cried
+triumphantly, leaning out into the darkness. "He has scorched himself,
+that is all;" then as she walked back to her sister, her head was
+erect, and there was a beautiful earnest look upon her face.
+
+"Nannie, I don't want to find fault with you, but don't you remember
+how we used to pride ourselves, in the dear old days, in not being
+like other girls,--the Paines, for example, or even Adelaide Sartoris,
+who used to gossip so much about young men."
+
+Nan opened her eyes widely at this, but made no answer.
+
+"We must not be different now, because our life is narrower and more
+monotonous. I know, talking so much over our work, we have terrible
+temptations to gossip; but I can't bear to think that we should ever
+lower our standard, ever degenerate into the feeble girlishness we
+abhor. We never used to talk about young men, Nan, except Dick; and
+that did not matter. Of course we liked them in their places, and had
+plenty of fun, and tormented them a little; but you never made such a
+speech as that at Glen Cottage."
+
+"Oh, dear! oh, dear! What have I done?" exclaimed Nan, much distressed
+at this rebuke. "I do think you are right, Phil; and it was naughty of
+me to put such a thing into your head."
+
+"You have put no idea into my head," replied Phillis, with crisp
+obstinacy. "There! I am only moralizing for my own good, as well as
+yours. Small beginnings make great endings. If we once began to
+gossip, we might end by flirting; and, Nan, if you knew how I hate
+that sort of thing!" And Phillis looked grand and scornful.
+
+"Yes, dear; and I know you are right," returned Nan, humbly. She was
+not quite sure what she had done to provoke this outburst of high
+moral feeling: but she felt that Phillis was dreadfully in earnest.
+They kissed each other rather solemnly after that, and Phillis was
+suffered to depart in silence.
+
+That night there was no wistful little prayer that Mr. Drummond might
+be comforted: Phillis had too many petitions to offer up on her own
+account. She was accusing herself of pride, and Pharisaism, and
+hypocrisy, in no measured terms. "Not like other girls! I am
+worse,--worse," she said to herself. And then, among other things, she
+asked for the gift of content,--for a quiet, satisfied spirit, not
+craving or embittered,--strength to bear her own and her friends'
+troubles, and far-looking faith to discern "God's perfectness round
+our uncompleteness,--round our restlessness His rest."
+
+The following evening, as Phillis was sorting out patterns in the
+work-room, a note was brought to her from the White House. It was in
+Mrs. Cheyne's handwriting, and, like herself, strangely abrupt.
+
+"Your visits are like angels' visits,--extremely rare," it began. "I
+am afraid I have frightened you away, as I have frightened the parson.
+I thought you had more wit than he to discern between mannerism and
+downright ill-humor. This evening the temperature is equable,--not the
+sign of a brooding cloud: so put on your hat, like a good girl, and
+come over. Miss Mewlstone and I will be prepared to welcome you."
+
+"You had better go," observed Nan, who had read the note over her
+sister's shoulder: "you have worked so dreadfully hard all day, and it
+will be a little change."
+
+"No one cares for east winds as a change," replied Phillis, dryly;
+nevertheless, she made up her mind that she would go. She was
+beginning to dread being summoned to the White House: she felt that
+Mrs. Cheyne alternately fascinated and repelled her. She was growing
+fond of Miss Mewlstone; but then, on these occasions, she had so
+little intercourse with her. The charitable instinct that was always
+ready to be kindled in Phillis's nature prompted her to pay these
+visits; and yet she always went reluctantly.
+
+She had two encounters on the road, both of which she had foreseen
+with nice presentiment.
+
+The first was with Mr. Drummond.
+
+He was walking along slowly, with his eyes on the ground. A sort of
+flush came to his face when he saw Phillis; and then he stopped, and
+shook hands, and asked after them all comprehensively, yet with
+constraint in his voice. Phillis told him rather hurriedly that she
+was going to the White House: Mrs. Cheyne had sent for her.
+
+Archie smiled:
+
+"I am glad she does not send for me. I have not been there for a long
+time. Sarcasm is not an attractive form of welcome. It slams the door
+in a man's face. I hope you will not get some hard hits, Miss
+Challoner." And then he went on his way.
+
+As she approached Mrs. Williams's cottage, Mr. Dancy was, as usual,
+leaning against the little gate. He stepped out in the road, and
+accosted her.
+
+"I have not called on your mother," he began, rather abruptly. "After
+all, I thought it best not to trouble her just now. Can you spare me a
+few minutes? or are you going in there?" looking towards the White
+House.
+
+"I am rather in a hurry," returned Phillis, surprised at his manner,
+it seemed so agitated. "I am already late, and Mrs. Cheyne will be
+expecting me."
+
+"Very well: another time," he replied, stepping back without further
+ceremony; but until Phillis's figure disappeared in the trees he
+watched her, leaning still upon the little gate.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne received her with a frosty smile; but, on the whole, her
+manner was more gracious than usual, and by and by it thawed
+completely.
+
+She was a little captious at first, it was true, and she snubbed poor
+Miss Mewlstone decidedly once or twice,--but then Miss Mewlstone was
+used to being snubbed,--but with Phillis she was sparing of sarcasms.
+After a time she began to look kindly at the girl; then she bade her
+talk, rather peremptorily, because she liked her voice and found it
+pleasant to listen to her; and by and by Phillis grew more at her
+ease, and her girlish talk rippled on as smoothly as possible.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne's face softened and grew strangely handsome as she
+listened: she was drawing Phillis out,--leading her to speak of the
+old life, and of all their youthful sources of happiness. Then she
+fell into a retrospect of her own young days, when she was a spoiled
+madcap girl and had all sorts of daring adventures.
+
+Phillis was quite fascinated; she was even disappointed when Miss
+Mewlstone pointed out the lateness of the hour.
+
+"I have enjoyed myself so much," she said, as she put on her hat.
+
+"I meant you to enjoy yourself," returned Mrs. Cheyne, quietly, as she
+drew the girl's face down to hers. "I have given you such a bad
+impression that you look on me as a sort of moral bugbear. I can be
+very different, when I like, and I have liked to be agreeable
+to-night." And then this strange woman took up a rich cashmere shawl
+from the couch where she was lying, and folded it around Phillis's
+shoulders. "The evenings are chilly. Jeffreys can bring this back with
+her;" for Mrs. Cheyne had already decided that this time her maid
+should accompany Phillis to the cottage.
+
+Phillis laughed in an amused fashion as she saw the reflection of
+herself in one of the mirrors: her figure looked quite queenly
+enveloped in the regal drapery. "She has forgotten all about the
+dressmaking," she thought to herself, as she tripped downstairs.
+
+It was a lovely moonlight evening; the avenue was white and glistening
+in the soft light; the trees cast weird shadows on the grass. Phillis
+was somewhat surprised to see in the distance Mr. Dancy's tall figure
+pacing to and fro before the lodge-gate. He was evidently waiting for
+her; for as she approached he threw away his cigar and joined her at
+once. Jeffreys, who thought he was some old acquaintance, dropped
+behind very discreetly, after the manner of waiting-women.
+
+"How long you have stayed this evening! I have been walking up and
+down for more than an hour, watching for you," he began, with curious
+abruptness.
+
+This and no more did Jeffreys hear before she lingered out of earshot.
+The lady's maid thought she perceived an interesting situation, and
+being of a susceptible and sympathetic temperament, with a blighted
+attachment of her own, there was no fear of her intruding. Phillis
+looked around once, but Jeffreys was absorbed in her contemplations of
+the clouds.
+
+"I thought you were never coming," he continued; and then he stopped
+all at once, and caught hold of the fringe of the shawl. "This is not
+yours: I am sure I have seen Magdalene in it. Pshaw! what am I saying?
+the force of old habit. I knew her once as Magdalene."
+
+"It is dreadfully heavy, and, after all, the evening is so warm,"
+returned Phillis, taking no notice of this incoherent speech.
+
+"Let me carry it," he rejoined, with singular eagerness; "it is
+absurd, a wrap like that on such a night." And, while Phillis
+hesitated, he drew the shawl from her shoulders and hung it over his
+arm, and all the way his disengaged right hand rested on the folds,
+touching it softly from time to time, as though the mere feeling of
+the texture pleased him.
+
+"How was she to-night?" he asked, coming a little closer to Phillis,
+and dropping his voice as he spoke.
+
+"Who?--Mrs. Cheyne? Oh, she was charming! just a little cold and
+captious at first, but that is her way. But this evening she was bent
+on fascinating me, and she quite succeeded; she looked ill, though,
+but very, very beautiful."
+
+"She never goes out. I cannot catch a glimpse of her," he returned,
+hurriedly. "Miss Challoner, I am going to startle--shock you, perhaps;
+but I have thought about it all until my head is dizzy, and there is
+no other way. Please give me your attention a moment," for Phillis,
+with a vague sense of uneasiness, had looked around for Jeffreys. "I
+must see you alone: I must speak to you where we shall not be
+interrupted. To call on your mother will be no good; you and only you
+can help me. And you are so strong and merciful--I can read that in
+your eyes--that I am sure of your sympathy, if you will only give me a
+hearing."
+
+"Mr. Dancy! oh, what can you mean?" exclaimed Phillis. She was
+dreadfully frightened at his earnestness, but her voice was dignified,
+and she drew herself away with a movement full of pride and _hauteur_.
+"You are a stranger to me; you have no right----"
+
+"The good Samaritan was a stranger too. Have you forgotten that?" he
+returned, in a voice of grave rebuke. "Oh, you are a girl; you are
+thinking of your mother! I have shocked your sense of propriety, my
+child; for you seem a child to me, who have lived and suffered so
+much. Would you hesitate an instant if some poor famishing wretch were
+to ask you for food or water? Well, I am that poor wretch. What I have
+to tell you is a matter of life and death to me. Only a woman--only
+you--can help me; and you shrink because we have not had a proper
+introduction. My dear young lady, you have nothing to fear from me. I
+am unfortunate, but a gentleman,--a married man, if that will satisfy
+your scruples----"
+
+"But my mother," faltered Phillis, not knowing what to say to this
+unfortunate stranger, who terrified and yet attracted her by turns.
+
+Never had she heard a human voice so persuasive, and yet so agonized
+in its intensity. A conviction of the truth of his words seized upon
+her as she listened,--that he was unhappy, that he needed her sympathy
+for some purpose of his own, and yet that she herself had nothing to
+do with his purpose. But what would Nan say if she consented--if she
+acceded to such an extraordinary proposition--to appoint a meeting
+with a stranger?
+
+"It is life and death to me; remember that!" continued Mr. Dancy, in
+that low, suppressed voice of agitation. "If you refuse on the score
+of mere girlish propriety, you will regret it. I am sure of that.
+Trust to your own brave heart, and let it answer for you. Will you
+refuse this trifling act of mercy,--just to let me speak to you alone,
+and tell you my story? When you have heard that, you will take things
+into your own hands."
+
+Phillis hesitated, and grew pale with anxiety; but the instincts of
+her nature were stronger than her prudence. From the first she had
+believed in this man, and felt interested in him and his mysterious
+surroundings. "One may be deceived in a face, but never in a voice,"
+she had said, in her pretty dictatorial way; and now this voice was
+winning her over to his side.
+
+"It is not right; but what can I do? You say I can help you."--And
+then she paused. "To-morrow morning I have to take some work to Rock
+Building. I shall not be long. But I could go on the beach for half an
+hour. Nan would spare me. I might hear your story then."
+
+She spoke rapidly, and rather ungraciously, as though she were
+dispensing largess to a troublesome mendicant; but Mr. Dancy's answer
+was humble in its intense gratitude.
+
+"God bless you! I knew your kind heart was to be trusted There! I will
+not come any farther. Good-night; good-night, a thousand thanks!" And,
+before Phillis could reply, this strange being had left her side, and
+was laying the cashmere shawl in Jeffreys's arms slowly and tenderly,
+as though it were a child.
+
+Phillis was glad that Dulce opened the door to her that night, for she
+was afraid of Nan's questioning glance. Nan was tired, and had retired
+early; and, as Dulce was sleepy too, Phillis was now left in peace.
+She passed the night restlessly, walking up at all sorts of untimely
+hours, her conscience pricking her into wakefulness. To her
+well-ordered nature there was something terrifying in the thought that
+she should be forced to take such a step.
+
+"Oh, what would mother and Nan say?" was her one cry.
+
+"I know I am dreadfully impulsive and imprudent, but Nan would think I
+am not to be trusted;" but she had passed her word, and nothing now
+would have induced her to swerve from it.
+
+She ate her breakfast silently, and with a sense of oppression and
+guilt quite new to her. She grew inwardly hot whenever Nan looked at
+her, which she did continually and with the utmost affection. Before
+the meal was over, however, Miss Middleton and Mattie made their
+appearance, and in the slight bustle of entrance Phillis managed to
+effect her escape.
+
+The hour that followed bore the unreality of a nightmare. Outwardly,
+Phillis was the grave, business-like dressmaker. The lady who had sent
+for her, and who was a stranger to Hadleigh, was much struck with her
+quiet self-possessed manners and lady-like demeanor.
+
+"Her voice was quite refined," she said afterwards to her daughter.
+"And she had such a nice face and beautiful figure. I am sure she is a
+reduced gentlewoman, for her accent was perfect. I am quite obliged to
+Miss Milner for recommending us such a person, for she evidently
+understands her business. One thing I noticed, Ada,--the way in which
+she quietly laid down the parcel, and said it should be fetched
+presently. Any ordinary dressmaker in a small town like this would
+have carried it home herself."
+
+Poor Phillis! she had laid down the parcel and drawn on her
+well-fitting gloves with a curious sinking at her heart: from the
+window of the house in Rock Building she could distinctly see Mr.
+Dancy walking up and down the narrow plat of grass before the houses,
+behind the tamarisk hedge, his foreign-looking cloak and slouch hat
+making him conspicuous.
+
+"There is that queer-looking man again, mamma," exclaimed one of the
+young ladies, who was seated in the window. "I am sure he is some
+distinguished foreigner, he has such an air with him."
+
+Phillis listened to no more, but hurried down the stairs and then
+prepared to cross the green with some degree of trepidation. She was
+half afraid that Mr. Dancy would join her at once, in the full view of
+curious eyes; but he knew better. He sauntered on slowly until she had
+reached the Parade and was going towards a part of the beach where
+there was only a knot of children wading knee-deep in the water,
+sailing a toy-boat. She stood and watched them dreamily, until the
+voice she expected sounded in her ear:
+
+"True as steel! Ah, I was never deceived in a face yet. Where shall we
+sit, Miss Challoner? Yes, this is a quiet corner, and the children
+will not disturb us. Look at that urchin, with his bare brown legs and
+curly head: is he not a study? Ah, if he had lived--my----" And then
+he sighed, and threw himself on the beach.
+
+"Well," observed Phillis, interrogatively. She was inclined to be
+short with him this morning. She had kept her word, and put herself
+into this annoying position; but there must be no hesitation, no
+beating about the bush, no loss of precious time. The story she had
+now to hear must be told, and with out delay.
+
+Mr. Dancy raised his eyes as he heard the tone, and then he took off
+his spectacles as though he felt them an incumbrance. Phillis had a
+very good view of a pair of handsome eyes, with a lurking gleam of
+humor in them, which speedily died away into sadness.
+
+"You are in a hurry; but I was thinking how I could best begin without
+startling you. But I may as well get it out without any prelude. Miss
+Challoner, to Mrs. Williams I am only Mr. Dancy; but my real name is
+Herbert Dancy Cheyne."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+MISS MEWLSTONE HAS AN INTERRUPTION.
+
+
+"HERBERT DANCY CHEYNE!"
+
+As he pronounced the name slowly and with marked emphasis, a low cry
+of uncontrollable astonishment broke from Phillis: it was so
+unexpected. She began to shiver a little from the sudden shock.
+
+"There! I have startled you,--and no wonder; and yet how could I help
+it? Yes," he repeated, calmly, "I am that unfortunate Herbert Cheyne
+whom his own wife believes to be dead."
+
+"Whom every one believes to be dead," corrected Phillis, in a panting
+breath.
+
+"Is it any wonder?" he returned, vehemently; and his eyes darkened,
+and his whole features worked, as though with the recollection of some
+unbearable pain. "Have I not been snatched from the very jaws of
+death? Has not mine been a living death, a hideous grave, for these
+four years?" And then, hurriedly and almost disconnectedly, as though
+the mere recalling the past was torture to him, he poured into the
+girl's shrinking ears fragments of a story so stern in its reality, so
+terrible in its details, that, regardless of the children that played
+on the margin of the water, Phillis hid her face in her hands and wept
+for sheer pity.
+
+Wounded, bereft of all his friends, and left apparently dying in the
+hands of a hostile tribe, Herbert Cheyne had owed his life to the
+mercy of a woman, a poor, degraded ill-used creature, half-witted and
+ugly, but who had not lost all the instincts of her womanhood, and who
+fed and nursed the white stranger as tenderly as though he were her
+own son.
+
+While the old negress lived, Herbert Cheyne had been left in peace to
+languish back to life, through days and nights of intolerable
+suffering, until he had regained a portion of his old strength; then a
+fever carried off his protectress, and he became virtually a slave.
+
+Out of pity for the tender-hearted girl who listened to him, Mr.
+Cheyne hurried over this part of his sorrowful past. He spoke briefly
+of indignities, abuse, and at last of positive ill treatment. Again
+and again his life had been in danger from brute violence; again and
+again he had striven to escape, and had been recaptured with blows.
+
+Phillis pointed mutely to his scarred wrists, and the tears flowed
+down her cheeks.
+
+"Yes, yes; these are the marks of my slavery," he replied, bitterly.
+"They were a set of hideous brutes; and the fetish they worshipped was
+cruelty. I carry about me other marks that must go with me to my
+grave; but there is no need to dwell on these horrors. He sent His
+angel to deliver me," he continued, reverently; "and again my
+benefactor was a woman."
+
+And then he went on to tell Phillis that one of the wives of the chief
+in whose service he was took pity on him, and aided him to escape on
+the very night before some great festival, when it had been determined
+to kill him. This time he had succeeded; and, after a series of
+hair-breadth adventures, he had fallen in with some Dutch traders who
+had come far into the interior in search of ivory tusks. He was so
+burnt by the sun and disfigured by paint that he had great difficulty
+in proving his identity as an Englishman. But at last they had
+suffered him to join them, and after some more months of wandering he
+had worked his way to the coast.
+
+There misfortune bad again overtaken him, in the form of a long and
+tedious illness. Fatigue, disaster, anguish of mind, and a slight
+sunstroke had taken dire effect upon him; but this time he had fallen
+into the hands of good Samaritans. The widowed sister of the consul, a
+very Dorcas of good works, had received the miserable stranger into
+her house; and she and her son, like Elijah's widow of Zarephath, had
+shared with him their scanty all.
+
+"They were very poor, but they pinched themselves for the sake of the
+stricken wretch that was thrown on their mercy. It was a woman again
+who succored me the third time," continued Mr. Cheyne: "you may judge
+how sacred women are in my eyes now! Dear motherly Mrs. Van Hollick!
+when she at last suffered me to depart, she kissed and blessed me as
+though I were her own son. Never to my dying day shall I forget her
+goodness. My one thought, after seeing Magdalene, will be how I am to
+repay her goodness,--how I can make prosperity flow in on the little
+household, that the cruse and cake may never fail!"
+
+"But," interrupted Phillis at this point, "did you not write, or your
+friends write for you, to England?"
+
+Mr. Cheyne smiled bitterly:
+
+"It seems as though some strange fatality were over me. Yes, I wrote.
+I wrote to Magdalene, to my lawyer, and to another friend who had
+known me all my life, but the ship that carried these letters was
+burnt at sea. I only heard that when I at last worked my way to
+Portsmouth as a common sailor and in that guise presented myself at my
+lawyer's chambers. Poor man! I thought he would have fainted when he
+saw me. He owned afterwards he was a believer in ghosts at that
+moment."
+
+"How long ago was that?" asked Phillis, gently.
+
+"Two months; not longer. It was then I heard of my children's death,
+of my wife's long illness and her strange state. I was ill myself, and
+not fit to battle through any more scenes. Mr. Standish took me home
+until I had rested and recovered myself a little; and then I put on
+this disguise--not that much of that is necessary, for few people
+would recognize me, I believe--and came down here and took possession
+of Mrs. Williams's lodgings."
+
+Phillis looked at him with mute questioning in her eyes. She did not
+venture to put it into words, but he understood her:
+
+"Why have I waited so long, do you ask? and why am I living here
+within sight of my own house, a spy on my own threshold and wife? My
+dear Miss Challoner, there is a bitter reason for that!
+
+"Four years ago I parted from my wife in anger. There were words said
+that day that few women could forgive. Has she forgiven them? That is
+what I am trying to find out. Will the husband who has been dead to
+her all these years be welcome to her living?" His voice dropped into
+low vehemence, and a pallor came over his face as he spoke.
+
+Phillis laid her hand on his own. She looked strangely eager:
+
+"This is why you want my help. Ah! I see now! Oh, it is all right--all
+that you can wish! It is she who is tormenting herself, who has no
+rest day or night! When the thunder came that evening--you
+remember--we sat beside the children's empty beds, and she told me
+some of her thoughts. When the lighting flashed, her nerves gave way,
+and she cried out, in her pain, 'Did he forgive?' That was her one
+thought. Her husband,--who was up in heaven with the children,--did he
+think mercifully of her, and know how she loved him? It was your name
+that was on her lips when that good woman, Miss Mewlstone, hushed her
+in her arms like a child. Oh, be comforted!" faltered Phillis, "for
+she loves you, and mourns for you as though she were the most desolate
+creature living!" But here she paused, for something that sounded like
+a sob came to her ear, and looking round, she saw the bowed figure of
+her companion shaking with uncontrollable emotion,--those hard
+tearless sobs that are only wrung from a man's strong agony.
+
+"Oh, hush!" cried the girl, tenderly. "Be comforted: there is no room
+for doubt. There! I will leave you; you will be better by and by." And
+then instinctively she turned away her face from a grief too sacred
+for a stranger to touch, and walked down to the water, where the
+children had ceased playing, and listened to the baby waves that
+lapped about her feet.
+
+And by and by he joined her; and on his pale face there was a rapt,
+serious look, as of one who has despaired and has just listened to an
+angel's tidings.
+
+"Did I not say that you, and only you, could help me? This is what I
+have wanted to know: had Magdalene forgiven me? Now I need wait no
+longer. My wife and home are mine, and I must take possession of my
+treasures."
+
+He stopped, as though overcome by the prospect of such happiness; but
+Phillis timidly interposed:
+
+"But, Mr. Cheyne, think a moment. How is it to be managed? If you are
+in too great a hurry, will not the shock be too much for her? She is
+nervous,--excitable. It would hardly be safe."
+
+"That is what troubles me," he returned, anxiously. "It is too much
+for any woman to bear; and Magdalene--she was always excitable. Tell
+me, you have such good sense; and, though you are so young, one can
+always rely on a woman; you understand her so well--I see you do--and
+she is fond of you,--how shall we act that my poor darling, who has
+undergone so much, may not be harmed by me any more?"
+
+"Wait one moment," returned Phillis, earnestly. "I must consider." And
+she set herself to revolve all manner of possibilities, and then
+rejected them one by one. "There seems no other way," she observed,
+at last, fixing her serious glance on Mr. Cheyne. "I must seek for an
+opportunity to speak to Miss Mewlstone. It must be broken carefully to
+your poor wife; I am sure of that. Miss Mewlstone will help us. She
+will tell us what to do, and how to do it. Oh, she is so kind, so
+thoughtful and tender, just as though Mrs. Cheyne were a poor wayward
+child, who must be guided and helped and shielded. I like her so much:
+we must go to her for counsel."
+
+"You must indeed, and at once!" he returned, rather peremptorily; and
+Phillis had a notion now what manner of man he had been before
+misfortunes had tamed and subdued him. His eyes flashed with
+eagerness; he grew young, alert, full of life in a moment. "Forgive me
+if I am too impetuous; but I have waited so long, and now my patience
+seems exhausted all at once during the last hour. I have been at
+fever-point ever since you have proved to me that my wife--my
+Magdalene--has been true to me. Fool that I was! why have I doubted so
+long? Miss Challoner, you will not desert me?--you will be my good
+angel a little longer? You will go to Miss Mewlstone now,--this very
+moment,--and ask her to prepare my wife?"
+
+"It is time for me to be going home: mother and Nan will think I am
+lost," returned Phillis, in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone. "Come Mr.
+Cheyne, we can talk as we go along." For he was so wan and agitated
+that she felt uneasy for his sake. She took his arm gently, and guided
+him as though he were a child; and he obeyed her like one.
+
+"Promise me that you will speak to her at once," he said, as he walked
+beside her rather feebly; and his gait became all at once like that of
+an old man. But Phillis fenced this remark very discreetly.
+
+"This afternoon or this evening, when I get the chance," she said,
+very decidedly: "if I am to help you, it must be as I think best, and
+at my own time. Do not think me unkind, for I am doing this for your
+own good: it would not help you if your wife were to be brought to the
+brink of a nervous illness. Leave it to me. Miss Mewlstone will serve
+us best, and she will know." And then she took her hand from his arm,
+and bade him drop behind a little, that she might not be seen in the
+town walking with him. "Good-bye! keep up your courage. I will help
+you all I can," she said, with a kindly smile, as he reluctantly
+obeyed her behest. She was his good angel, but he must not walk any
+longer in her shadow: angels do their good deeds invisibly, as Phillis
+hoped to do hers. He thought of this as he watched her disappearing in
+the distance.
+
+Phillis walked rapidly towards the cottage. Archie, who was letting
+himself in at his own door, saw the girl pass, carrying her head high,
+and stepping lightly as though she were treading on air. "Here comes
+Atalanta," he said to himself; but, though a smile came over his tired
+face, he made no effort to arrest her. The less he saw of any of them
+the better, he thought, just now.
+
+Nan looked up reproachfully as the truant entered the work-room, and
+Mrs. Challoner wore her gravest expression; evidently she had prepared
+a lecture for the occasion. Phillis looked at them both with sparkling
+eyes.
+
+"Listen to me, Nan and mother. Oh, I am glad Dulce is not here, she is
+so young and giddy; and she might talk--No, not a word from either of
+you, until I have had my turn." And then she began her story.
+
+Nan listened with rapt speechless attention, but Mrs. Challoner gave
+vent to little pitying moans and exclamations of dismay.
+
+"Oh, my child!" she kept saying, "to think of your being mixed up in
+such an adventure! How could you be so imprudent and daring? Mrs.
+Williams's lodger--a strange man! in that outlandish cloak, too! and
+you walked home with him that dark night! Oh, Phillis, I shall never
+be at peace about you again!" and so on.
+
+Phillis bore all this patiently, for she knew she had been incautious:
+and when her mother's excitement had calmed down a little, she
+unfolded to them her plan.
+
+"I must see Miss Mewlstone quite alone; and that unfinished French
+merino will be such a good excuse, Nan. I will take the body with me
+this afternoon, and beg her to let me try it on; the rest must come
+afterwards, but this will be the best way of getting her to myself."
+And, as Nan approved of this scheme, and Mrs. Challoner did not
+dissent, Phillis had very soon made up her parcel, and was walking
+rapidly towards the White House.
+
+As she turned in at the gates she could see a shadow on the blind in
+Mrs. Williams's little parlor, and waved her hand towards it. He was
+watching her, she knew: she longed to go back and give him a word of
+encouragement and exhortation to patience; but some one, Mr. Drummond
+perhaps, might see her, and she dare not venture.
+
+She sent her message by Jeffreys, and Miss Mewlstone soon came
+trotting into the room; but she wore a slightly-disturbed expression
+on her good-natured face.
+
+She had been reading the third volume of a very interesting novel, and
+had most unwillingly laid down her book at the young dressmaker's
+unseasonable request. Like many other stout people, Miss Mewlstone was
+more addicted to passivity than activity after her luncheon; and,
+being a creature of habit, this departure from her usual rules
+flurried her.
+
+"Dear, dear! to think of your wanting to try on that French merino
+again!" she observed; "and the other dress fitted so beautifully, and
+no trouble at all. And there has Miss Middleton being calling just
+now, and saying they are expecting her brother Hammond home from India
+in November; and it is getting towards the end of September now. I
+was finishing my book, but I could not help listening to her,--she has
+such a sweet voice. Ah, just so--just so. But aren't you going to open
+your parcel, my dear?"
+
+"Never mind the dress," returned Phillis, quickly. "Dear Miss
+Mewlstone, I was sorry to disturb you; but it could not be helped.
+Don't look at the parcel: that is only an excuse. My business is far
+more important. I want you to put on your bonnet, and come with me
+just a little way across the road. There is some one's identity that
+you must prove."
+
+Phillis was commencing her task in a somewhat lame fashion; but Miss
+Mewlstone was still too much engrossed with her novel to notice her
+visitor's singular agitation.
+
+"Ah, just so--just so," she responded; "that is exactly what the last
+few chapters have been about. The real heir has turned up, and is
+trying to prove his own identity; only he is so changed that no one
+believes him. It is capitally worked out. A very clever author, my
+dear----"
+
+But Phillis interrupted her a little eagerly:
+
+"Is that your tale, dear Miss Mewlstone? How often people say truth is
+stranger than fiction! Do you know, I have heard a story in real life
+far more wonderful than that? Some one was telling me about it just
+now. There was a man whom every one, even his own wife, believed to be
+dead; but after four years of incredible dangers and hardships--oh,
+such hardships!--he arrived safely in England, and took up his abode
+just within sight of his old house, where he could see his wife and
+find out all about her without being seen himself. He put on some sort
+of disguise, I think, so that people could not find him out."
+
+"That must be a make-up story, I think," returned Miss Mewlstone, a
+little provokingly; but her head was still full of her book. Poor
+woman! she wanted to get back to it. She looked at Phillis and the
+parcel a little plaintively. "Ah, just so,--a very pretty story, but
+improbable,--very improbable, my dear."
+
+"Nevertheless, it is true!" returned Phillis, so vehemently that Miss
+Mewlstone's little blue eyes opened more widely. "Never mind your
+book. I tell you I have business so important that nothing is of
+consequence beside it. Where is Mrs. Cheyne? She must not know we are
+going out."
+
+"Going out!" repeated Miss Mewlstone, helplessly. "My dear, I never go
+out after luncheon, as Magdalene knows."
+
+"But you are going out with me," replied Phillis, promptly. "Dear Miss
+Mewlstone, I know I am perplexing and worrying you; but what can I do?
+Think over what I have just said,--about--about that improbable story,
+as you called it; and then, you will not be so dreadfully startled.
+You must come with me now to Mrs. Williams's cottage: I want you to
+see her lodger."
+
+"Her lodger!" Miss Mewlstone was fully roused now; and, indeed,
+Phillis's pale face and suppressed eager tones were not without their
+due effect. Had the girl taken leave of her senses? Why, the ladies at
+the White House led the lives of recluses. Why should she be asked to
+call upon any stranger, but especially a gentleman,--Mrs. Williams's
+lodger? "My dear," she faltered, "you are very strange this
+afternoon.--Magdalene and I seldom call on any one, and certainly not
+on gentlemen."
+
+"You must come with me," replied Phillis, half crying with excitement.
+She found her task so difficult. Miss Mewlstone was as yielding as a
+feather bed in appearance, and yet it was impossible to move her. "He
+calls himself Mr. Dancy; but now he says that is not all his name: let
+me whisper it in your ear, if it will not startle you too much. Think
+of Mrs. Cheyne, and try and command yourself. Mrs. Williams's lodger
+says that he is Herbert Cheyne,--poor Mrs. Cheyne's husband!"
+
+
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+"BARBY, DON'T YOU RECOLLECT ME?"
+
+
+"I do not believe it!--stuff and nonsense! You are crazy, child, to
+come to me with this trumped-up story! The man is an impostor. I will
+have the police to him. For heaven's sake don't let Magdalene hear
+this nonsense!"
+
+Phillis recoiled a few steps, speechless with amazement. Miss
+Mewlstone's face was crimson; her small eyes were sparkling with angry
+excitement: all her softness and gentle inanity had vanished.
+
+"Give me a bonnet,--shawl,--anything, and I will put this matter
+straight in a moment. Where is Jeffreys? Ring the bell, please, Miss
+Challoner! I must speak to her."
+
+Phillis obeyed without a word.
+
+"Ah, just so. Jeffreys," resuming her old purring manner as the maid
+appeared, "this young lady has a friend in trouble, and wants me to go
+down to the cottage with her. Keep it from your mistress if you can,
+for she hates hearing of anything sad; say we are busy,--I shall be in
+to tea,--anything. I know you will be discreet, Jeffreys."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," returned Jeffreys, adjusting the shawl over Miss
+Mewlstone's shoulders; "but this is your garden-shawl, surely?"
+
+"Oh, it does not matter; it will do very well. Now Miss Challoner, I
+am ready." And so noiseless and rapid were her movements that Phillis
+had much to do to keep up with her.
+
+"Won't you listen to me?" she pleaded. "Dear Miss Mewlstone, it is no
+made-up story; it is all true;" but to her astonishment, Miss
+Mewlstone faced round upon her in a most indignant manner:
+
+"Be silent, child! I cannot, and will not, hear any more. How should
+you know anything about it? Have you ever seen Herbert Cheyne? You are
+the tool of some impostor. But I will guard Magdalene; she shall not
+be driven mad. No, no, poor dear! she shall not, as long as she has
+old Bathsheba to watch over her." And Phillis, in despair, very wisely
+held her peace. After all she was a stranger: had she any proof but
+Mr. Dancy's word?
+
+Just towards the last, Miss Mewlstone's pace slackened; and her hand
+shook so, as she tried to unlatch the little gate, that Phillis was
+obliged to come to her assistance. The cottage door stood open as
+usual, but there was no tall figure lurking in the background,--no
+shadow on the blind.
+
+"We had better go in there," whispered Phillis, pointing to the closed
+door of the parlor; and Miss Mewlstone, without knocking, at once
+turned the handle and went in, while Phillis followed trembling.
+
+"Well, sir," said Miss Mewlstone, sternly, "I have come to know what
+you mean by imposing your story on this child."
+
+Mr. Dancy, who was standing with his back to them, leaning for support
+against the little mantle-shelf, did not answer for a moment; and then
+he turned slowly round, and looked at her.
+
+"Oh, Barby!" he said; "don't you recollect me?" And then he held out
+his thin hands to her imploringly, and added "Dear old Barby! but you
+are not a bit changed."
+
+"Herbert--why, good heavens! Ah, just so--just so," gasped the poor
+lady, rather feebly, as she sat down, feeling her limbs were deserting
+her, and every scrap of color left her face. Indeed, she looked so
+flabby and lifeless that Phillis was alarmed and flew to her
+assistance; only Mr. Cheyne waved her aside rather impatiently.
+
+"Let her be; she is all right. She knows me, you see: so I cannot be
+so much altered. Barby," he went on, in a coaxing voice, as he knelt
+beside her and chafed her hands, "you thought I was an impostor, and
+were coming to threaten me: were you not? But now you see Miss
+Challoner was in the right. Have you not got a word for me? Won't you
+talk to me about Magdalene? We have got to prepare her, you know."
+
+Then, as he spoke his wife's name, and she remembered her sacred
+charge, the faithful creature suddenly fell on his neck in piteous
+weeping.
+
+"Oh, the bonnie face," she wept, "that has grown so old, with the
+sorrow and the gray hair! My dear, this will just kill her with joy,
+after all her years of bitter widowhood." And then she cried again,
+and stroked his face as though he were a child, and then wrung her
+hands for pity at the changes she saw. "It is the same face, and yet
+not the same," she said, by and by. "I knew the look of your eyes, my
+bonnie man, for all they were so piercing with sadness. But what have
+they done to you, Herbert?--for it might be your own ghost,--so thin;
+and yet you are brown, too; and your hair!" And she touched the gray
+locks over the temples with tender fluttering fingers.
+
+"Magdalene never liked gray hairs," he responded, with a sigh. "She is
+as beautiful as ever, I hear; but I have not caught a glimpse of her.
+Tell me, Barby,--for I have grown timorous with sorrow,--will she hate
+the sight of such a miserable scarecrow?"
+
+"My dear! hate the sight of her own husband, who is given back to her
+from the dead? Ay, I have much to hear. Why did you never write to us,
+Herbert? But there! you have all that to explain to her by and by."
+
+"Yes; and you must tell me about the children,--my little Janie," he
+returned, in a choked voice.
+
+"Ah, the dear angels! But, Herbert, you must be careful. Nobody speaks
+of them to Magdalene, unless she does herself. You are impetuous, my
+dear; and Magdalene--well, she has not been herself since you left
+her. It is pining, grief, and the dead weight of loss that has ailed
+her being childless and widowed at once. There, there! just so. We
+must be tender of her, poor dear! and things will soon come right."
+
+"You need not fear me, Barby. I have learned my lesson at last. If I
+only get my wife back, you shall see--you shall see how I will make up
+to her for all I have ever made her suffer! My poor girl! my poor
+girl!" And then he shaded his face, and was silent.
+
+Phillis had stolen out in the garden, and sat down on a little bench
+outside, where passers-by could not discern her from the road, and
+where only the sound of their voices reached her faintly. Now and
+then, chance words fell on her ear,--"Magdalene" over and over again;
+and "Janie" and "Bertie,"--always in the voice she had so admired. By
+and by she heard her own name, and rose at once, and found them
+looking for her.
+
+"Here is my good angel, Barby," observed Mr. Cheyne, as she came up
+smiling. "Not one girl in a thousand would have acted as bravely and
+simply as she has done. We are friends for life, Miss Challoner, are
+we not?" And he stretched out his hand to her, and Phillis laid her
+own in it.
+
+"I was a bit harsh with you, dearie, was I not?" returned Miss
+Mewlstone, apologetically: "but there! you were such a child that I
+thought you had been deceived. But I ought to have known better,
+craving your pardon, my dear. Now we will just go back to Magdalene;
+and you must help my stupid old head, for I am fairly crazy at the
+thought of telling her. Go back into the parlor and lie down, Herbert,
+for you are terribly exhausted. You must have patience, my man, a wee
+bit longer, for we must be cautious,--cautious, you see."
+
+"Yes, I must have patience," he responded, rather bitterly. But he
+went back into the room and watched them until they disappeared into
+the gates of his own rightful paradise.
+
+Miss Mewlstone was leaning on Phillis's arm. Her gait was still rather
+feeble, but the girl was talking energetically to her.
+
+"What a spirit she has! just like Magdalene at her age," he thought,
+"only Magdalene never possessed her even temper. My poor girl! From
+what Barby says, she has grown hard and bitter with trouble. But it
+shall be my aim in life to comfort her for all she has been through!"
+And then, as he thought of his dead children, and of the empty
+nursery, he groaned, and threw himself face downward upon the couch.
+But a few minutes afterwards he had started up again, unable to rest,
+and began to pace the room; and then, as though the narrow space
+confined him, he continued his restless walk into the garden, and then
+into the shrubberies of the White House.
+
+"My dear, I am not as young as I was. I feel as if all this were too
+much for me," sighed Miss Mewlstone, as she pressed her companion's
+arm. "One needs so much vitality to bear such scenes. I am terrified
+for Magdalene, she has so little self-control! and to have him given
+back to her from the dead! I thank God! but I am afraid, for all
+that." And a few more quiet tears stole over her cheeks.
+
+"Thinking of it only makes it worse," returned Phillis, feverishly.
+She, too, dreaded the ordeal before them; but she was young, and not
+easily daunted. All the way through the shrubbery she talked on
+breathlessly, trying to rally her own courage. It was she who entered
+the drawing-room first, for poor Miss Mewlstone had to efface the
+signs of her agitation.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne looked up, surprised to see her alone.
+
+"Jeffreys told me you and Miss Mewlstone had gone out together on a
+little business. What have you done with poor old Barby?" And, as
+Phillis answered as composedly and demurely as she could, Mrs. Cheyne
+arched her eyebrows in her old satirical way:
+
+"She is in her room, is she? Never mind answering, if you prefer your
+own counsel. Your little mysteries are no business of mine. I should
+have thought the world would have come to an end, though, before Barby
+had thrown down the third volume of a novel for anything short of a
+fire. But you and she know best." And, as Phillis flushed and looked
+confused under her scrutiny, she gave a short laugh and turned away.
+
+It was a relief when Miss Mewlstone came trotting into the room with
+her cap-strings awry.
+
+"Dear, dear! have we kept you waiting for your tea, Magdalene?" she
+exclaimed, in a flurried tone, as she bustled up to the table. "Miss
+Challoner had a little business, and she thought I might help her.
+Yes; just so! I have brought her in, for she is tired, poor thing! and
+I knew she would be welcome."
+
+"It seems to me that you are both tired. You are as hot as though you
+had walked for miles, Barby. Oh, you have your secrets too. But it is
+not for me to meddle with mysteries." And then she laughed again, and
+threw herself back on her couch, with a full understanding of the
+discomfort of the two people before her.
+
+Phillis saw directly she was in a hard, cynical mood.
+
+"You shall know our business by and by," she said, very quietly. "Dear
+Miss Mewlstone, I am so thirsty, I must ask you for another cup of
+tea." But, as Miss Mewlstone took the cup from her, the poor lady's
+hand shook so with suppressed agitation that the saucer slipped from
+her grasp, and the next moment the costly china lay in fragments at
+her feet.
+
+"Dear! dear!--how dreadfully careless of me!" fumed Miss Mewlstone.
+
+But Mrs. Cheyne made no observation. She only rang the bell, and
+ordered another cup. But, when the servant had withdrawn, she said,
+coldly,--
+
+"Your hand is not as steady as usual this evening, Barby;" and somehow
+the sharp incisive tone cut so keenly that, to Phillis's alarm, Miss
+Mewlstone became very pale, and then suddenly burst into tears.
+
+"This is too much!" observed Mrs. Cheyne, rising in serious
+displeasure. She had almost a masculine abhorrence to tears of late
+years; the very sight of them excited her strangely.
+
+"Miss Challoner may keep her mysteries to herself if she likes, but I
+insist on knowing what has upset you like this."
+
+"Oh dear! oh, dear!" sobbed the simple woman, wringing her hands
+helplessly. "This is just too much for me! Poor soul, how am I to tell
+her?" And then she looked at Phillis in affright at her own words,
+which revealed so much and so little.
+
+Mrs. Cheyne turned exceedingly pale, and a shadow passed over her
+face.
+
+"'Poor soul!' does she mean me? Is it of me you are speaking, Barby?
+Is there something for me to know, that you dread to tell me? Poor
+soul, indeed!" And then her features contracted and grew pinched. "But
+you need not be afraid. Is it not the Psalmist who says, 'All thy
+waves and thy billows have gone over me'? Drowned people have nothing
+to fear: there is no fresh trouble for them." And her eyes took an
+awful stony look that terrified Phillis.
+
+"Oh, it is no fresh trouble!" stammered the girl. "People are not
+tormented like that: they have not to suffer more than they can
+bear."
+
+But Mrs. Cheyne turned upon her fiercely:
+
+"You are wrong, altogether wrong. I could not bear it, and it drove me
+mad,--at least as nearly mad as a sane woman could be. I felt my
+reason shaken; my brain was all aflame, and I cried out to heaven for
+mercy; and a blank answered me. Barby, if there be fresh trouble, tell
+me instantly, and at once. What do I care? What is left to me, but a
+body that will not die, and a brain that will not cease to think? If I
+could only stop the thoughts! if I could only go down into silence and
+nothingness! but then I should not find Herbert and the children.
+Where are they? I forget!" She stopped, pressed her hands to her brow
+with a strange bewildered expression; but Miss Mewlstone crept up to
+her, and touched her timidly.
+
+"My bonnie Magdalene!" she exclaimed; "don't let the ill thoughts
+come; drive them away, my poor dear. Look at me. Did old Barby ever
+deceive you? There is no fresh trouble, my pretty. In his own good
+time the All-Merciful has had mercy!"
+
+Mrs. Cheyne's hand dropped down to her sides, but her brilliant eyes
+showed no comprehension of her words.
+
+"Why did you frighten me like that?" she repeated, rocking herself to
+and fro; and her voice had a high, strained tone in it. "There is no
+trouble, but your face is pale, and there are tears in your eyes; and
+look how your hand shakes! Miss Challoner--Phillis, what does she
+mean? Barby, you are a foolish old woman; your wits are gone."
+
+"If they are gone, it is with joy!" she sobbed. "Yes, my precious one!
+for sheer joy!" but then she broke down utterly. It was Phillis who
+came to the rescue.
+
+"Dear Mrs. Cheyne, I think I could tell you best," she began, in her
+sweet sensible voice, which somehow stilled Mrs. Cheyne's frightful
+agitation. "There has been some news,--a letter that has been lost,
+which ought to have arrived months ago. We have heard about it this
+afternoon." She stopped, for there seemed to be a faint sound of
+footsteps in the hall below. Could he have followed them? What would
+be the result of such imprudence? But, as she faltered and hesitated,
+Mrs. Cheyne gripped her arm with an iron force:
+
+"A letter from Herbert! Did he write to me? oh, my darling! did he
+write to me before he died? Only one word--one word of forgiveness,
+and I will say heaven indeed is merciful! Give it to me, Barby! Why do
+you keep me waiting? Oh, this is blessed, blessed news!" But Miss
+Mewlstone only clasped her gently in her arms.
+
+"One moment, my dearie! There is more than that. It is not a message
+from heaven. There is still one living on earth that loves you! Try
+and follow my meaning," for the perplexed stare had returned again.
+"Say to yourself, 'Perhaps, after all, Herbert is not dead. Nobody saw
+him die. He may be alive; he may have written to me----" She stopped,
+for Mrs. Cheyne had suddenly flung up her arms over her head with a
+hoarse cry, that rang through the house:
+
+"Herbert! Herbert! Herbert!"
+
+"I am here,--Magdalene! Magdalene!" A tall figure that had crept
+unperceived through the open hall door, and had lurked unseen in the
+shadow of the portiere, suddenly dashed into the room, and took his
+wife's rigid form into his arms. "Magdalene!--love--wife! It is
+Herbert! Look up, my darling!--I am here! I am holding you!" But there
+was no response. Magdalene's face was like the face of the dead.
+
+They took her from him almost by force, for he refused to give her up.
+Over and over again they prayed him to leave her to their care, but he
+seemed like a deaf man that did not hear.
+
+"She is dead! I have killed her; but there is no reason why I should
+give her up," he had said, with terrible calm in his voice.
+
+"She is not dead!" returned Miss Mewlstone, almost angrily. "She has
+been like this before; but Jeffreys and I know what to do. Ay, you
+were always wilful, Herbert; but when it comes to killing your own
+wife----" And after this he consented to lay her down on her couch.
+
+He watched them with wistful eyes as they tried the usual remedies;
+but it was long before even the flicker of an eyelid spoke to them of
+life. At the first sign of returning animation Herbert crept just
+behind his wife's pillow, where he could see the first unclosing of
+the drooping lids. When Magdalene opened her eyes at last, they fell
+full on her husband's face.
+
+Phillis, who was beside her, marvelled at the strange beauty of that
+rapt look, as she lay and gazed at him.
+
+"Herbert's face!" they heard her whisper, in an awe-struck voice.
+"Then I have died at last, and am in heaven. Oh, how merciful! but I
+have not deserved it,--a sinner such as I."
+
+"Magdalene, my darling, you are in our own home! It is I who was lost,
+and have come back to you. Look at me. It is only the children that
+are in heaven. You and I are spared to each other on earth." But for a
+long time her scattered faculties failed to grasp the truth.
+
+Phillis went home at last, and left them. There was nothing she could
+do, and she was utterly spent; but Miss Mewlstone kept watch beside
+her charge until late into the night.
+
+Little by little the truth dawned slowly on the numbed brain; slowly
+and by degrees the meaning of her husband's tears and kisses sank into
+the clouded mind. Now and again she wandered, but Herbert's voice
+always recalled her.
+
+"Then I am not dead?" she asked him, again and again. "They do not cry
+in heaven, and Barby was crying just now. Barby, am I dreaming! Who is
+this beside me? is it Herbert's ghost? only his hands are warm, and
+mine are so terribly cold. Why you are crying too, love; but I am to
+tired to understand." And then she crept wearily closer and closer
+into his arms, like a tired-out child who has reached home.
+
+And when Herbert stooped over her gently, he saw that the long lashes
+lay on her cheek. Magdalene had fallen asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+MOTES IN THE SUNSHINE.
+
+
+That sleep was, humanly speaking, Magdalene's salvation.
+
+At the greatest crisis of her life, when reason hung in the
+balance,--when the sudden influx of joy might have paralyzed the
+overwrought heart and brain,--at that moment physical exhaustion saved
+her by that merciful, overpowering sleep.
+
+When she woke, it was to the resurrection of her life and love. Months
+afterwards she spoke of that waking to Phillis, when she lay in her
+bed weak as a new born babe, and the early morning light streamed full
+on the face of her slumbering husband.
+
+They were alone; for Miss Mewlstone had just crept softly from the
+room. Her movement had roused Magdalene. Herbert, who was utterly worn
+out by his long watching, had just dropped asleep, with his head
+resting against the wood-work. He was still sitting in the arm-chair
+beside her, and only the thin profile was visible.
+
+The previous night had been passed by Magdalene in a semi-conscious
+state: delirious imaginations had blended with realities. There were
+flashes and intervals of comparative consciousness, when the truth
+rushed into her mind; but she had been too weak to retain it long.
+That she was dreaming or dead was her fixed idea: that this was her
+husband's greeting to her in paradise seemed to be her one thought.
+"Strange that the children do not kiss me too," they heard her say
+once.
+
+But now, as she opened her eyes, there was no blue misty haze through
+which she ever feebly sought to pierce. She was lying in her own room,
+where she had passed so many despairing days and nights. The window
+was open; the sweet crisp morning air fanned her temples; the birds
+were singing in the garden below; and there beside her was the face so
+like, yet so unlike, the face from which she had parted four years
+ago.
+
+For a little while she lay and watched it in a sort of trance; and
+then in the stillness full realization came to her, and she knew that
+she was not mad or dreaming. This was no imagination: it was reality.
+
+With incredible effort, for she felt strangely weak, she raised
+herself on her elbow to study that dear face more closely, for the
+change in it baffled her. Could this be her Herbert? How bronzed and
+thin he had grown! Those lines that furrowed his forehead, those
+hollows in the temples and under the eyes, were new to her. And, oh,
+the pity of those gray hairs in the place of the brown wavy locks she
+remembered! But it was when she laid her lips against the scarred
+wrist that Herbert woke, and met the full look of recognition in his
+wife's eyes, for which he had waited so long.
+
+Now he could fall upon his knees beside her, and crave that
+forgiveness for words and acts that had seared his conscience all
+these years like red-hot iron. But at the first word she stopped him,
+and drew his head to her breast:
+
+"Oh, Herbert, hush! What! ask forgiveness of me, when I have sinned
+against you doubly,--trebly,--when I was no true wife, as you know?
+Oh, do not let us ask it of each other, but of God, whom we have so
+deeply offended! He has punished us; but He has been merciful too. He
+has taken our children because we did not deserve them. Oh, Herbert!
+what will you do without them?--for you loved Janie so!" And then for
+a little while the childless parents could only hold each other's
+hands and weep, for to Herbert Cheyne the grief was new, and at the
+sight of her husband's sorrow Magdalene's old wounds seemed to open
+and bleed afresh; only now--now she did not weep alone.
+
+When Miss Mewlstone entered the room, shortly afterwards, she found
+Magdalene lying spent and weary, holding her husband's hand.
+
+Joy had indeed returned to the White House, but for a long time it was
+joy that was strangely tempered with sorrow. Upstairs no sound greeted
+Herbert from the empty nurseries; there were no little feet pattering
+to meet the returned wanderer, no little voices to cry a joyous
+"Father!" And for years the desolate mother had borne this sorrow
+alone.
+
+As the days passed on, Magdalene regained her strength slowly, but
+neither wife nor husband could hide from each other the fact that
+their health was broken by all they had gone through. Herbert's
+constitution was sadly impaired for the remainder of his life: he knew
+well that he must carry with him the consequences of those years of
+suffering. Often he had to endure intense neuralgic agony in his limbs
+and head; an unhealed wound for a long time troubled him sorely.
+Magdalene strove hard to regain strength, that she might devote
+herself to nurse him, but, though her constitution was superb, she had
+much to bear from her disordered nerves. At times the old irritability
+was hard to vanquish; there were still dark moods of restlessness when
+her companionship was trying; but it was now that Herbert proved the
+nobleness and reality of his repentance.
+
+For he was ever gentle with her, however much she might try him. Some
+talk he had had with her doctor had convinced him that she was not to
+blame for these morbid moods; that the nerves had become disorganized
+by those years of solitary misery. "We must bear all our troubles
+together," as he often told her; and so he bore this, as he did the
+trial of his children's loss, with grave fortitude, and a patience
+that surprised all who knew him.
+
+And he was not without his reward, for, the dark fit over, Magdalene's
+smile would greet him like sunshine after a storm, and she would thank
+him with tears and caresses for his forbearance.
+
+"I can't think what makes me still so horrid, when I am so happy," she
+said once to him, when the first year of their reunion had passed. "I
+do my best to fight against these moods, but they seem stronger than
+myself and overcome me. Do not be so good to me next time, Herbert;
+scold me and be angry with me, as you used in the old days."
+
+"I cannot," he answered, smiling. "I never loved you in the old days
+as I do now. I would not change my wife, in spite of all the trouble
+she gives me, for any other woman upon earth. You believe this, love,
+do you not?" looking at her beautiful face anxiously, for it had
+clouded a little at his last words.
+
+"Yes, but I do not like to trouble you: it is that that frets me. I
+wanted to be a comfort to you, and never to give you a moment's
+uneasiness; but I cannot help myself, somehow. I love you, I don't
+believe you know yet how I love you, Herbert; but it seems as if I
+must grieve you sometimes."
+
+"Never mind; I will hear your trouble and my own too," he answered,
+cheerily; and in this way he always comforted her. But to Magdalene
+her own self ever remained a mystery; the forces of her own nature
+were too strong for her, and yet she was not a weak woman. She had
+expected that in her case love and happiness would have worked a
+miracle, as though miracles were ever effected by mere human
+agencies,--that she would rise like a Phoenix from the ashes of her
+past, reborn, rejuvenated, with an inexhaustible fund of moral
+strength.
+
+Now she had Herbert, all would go smoothly; she would no longer mourn
+for her little ones. Since her husband was there to comfort her, with
+his constant presence to sustain her, all must be well; never again
+would she be nervous, irritable, or sarcastic. Poor Magdalene! she was
+creating heaven for herself upon earth; she was borrowing angels'
+plumes before the time; she had forgotten the conditions of humanity,
+"the body of the flesh," which weighed down greater souls than hers.
+
+There are Gethsemanes of the spirit to the weary ones of earth, hours
+of conflict that must be lived through and endured. Nature that
+groaneth and travaileth cannot find its abiding place of rest here. To
+the end of time it seems to be written in enduring characters that no
+human lot shall be free from suffering: sooner or later, more or
+less,--that is all! Magdalene had still to learn this lesson
+painfully: that she was slow in learning it, proved the strength and
+obduracy of her will. True, she was rarely sarcastic,--never in her
+husband's presence, for a word or a look from him checked her, and she
+grew humble and meek at once. It was her unruly nerves that baffled
+her; she was shocked to find that irritable words still rose to her
+lips; that the spirit of restlessness was not quelled forever; that
+thunder still affrighted her; and that now and then her mind seemed
+clouded with fancied gloom.
+
+She once spoke of this to Miss Middleton, with tears in her eyes.
+
+"It is so strange," she said. "Herbert is different, but I am still so
+unchanged."
+
+"The conditions of your health are unchanged, you mean," answered
+Elizabeth, with that quiet sympathy that always rested people. "This
+is the mistake that folk make: they do not distinguish between an
+unhealthy mind and a diseased soul: the one is due to physical
+disorganization, the other to moral causes. In your case, dear Mrs.
+Cheyne, one may safely lay the blame on the first cause."
+
+"Oh, do you think so?" she asked, earnestly. "I dare not cheat my
+conscience in that way: it is my bad temper, my undisciplined nature,
+that ought to bear the blame."
+
+"No; believe me," answered Elizabeth, for they had grown great friends
+of late, "I have watched you narrowly, and I know how you try to
+conquer this irritability; there is no black spot of anger in your
+heart, whatever words come to your lips. You are like a fretful child
+sometimes, I grant you that, who is ailing and unconscious of its
+ailment. When you would be calm, you are strangely disturbed; you
+speak sharply, hoping to relieve something that oppresses you."
+
+"Oh, yes!" sighed Magdalene; "and yet Herbert never speaks crossly to
+me."
+
+"He never will, for he knows what you suffer. Well, dear friend, what
+of this? This is a cross that you must carry perhaps all your life.
+You are not the only one who has to bear the torment of disordered
+nerves: it must be borne with resignation, as we bear other troubles.
+Once you felt you could not love God; you ceased to pray to Him; now
+you love Him a little. Go on loving; thank him for your husband's
+patience, and pray that you may have patience with yourself. One is
+weary of always living with one's self, I know that well," finished
+Elizabeth, with a charming smile.
+
+Mr. Drummond would have verified Miss Middleton's opinion that
+Magdalene was not so unchanged as she believed herself to be.
+
+At his first interview with her after Herbert Cheyne's return, he
+could almost have sworn that she was a different woman.
+
+Phillis, who spent all her spare time at the White House,--for they
+both made much of Herbert's "good angel," as he still called her
+jestingly,--was sitting alone with Mrs. Cheyne when Archie was
+announced.
+
+His old enemy greeted him with a frank smile.
+
+"This is kind of you, Mr. Drummond," she said, quite warmly. "How I
+wish my husband were not out, that I could introduce him to you! I
+have told him how good you have tried to be to me, but that I was
+ungrateful and repulsed you."
+
+Archie was shaking hands with Phillis, who seemed a little disturbed
+at his entrance. He turned around and regarded the beautiful woman
+with astonishment. Was this really Mrs. Cheyne? Where was the hard,
+proud droop of the lip, the glance of mingled coldness and _hauteur_,
+the polished sarcasm of voice and manner? Her face looked clear and
+open as a child's; her eyes were brilliant with happiness.
+
+Magdalene was in one of her brightest moods when she was most truly
+herself.
+
+"I have met him just now. He stopped and introduced himself. We had
+quite a long talk outside of Mrs. Williams's cottage. I called upon
+him there, you know, but he had good reasons for refusing my visits.
+Mrs. Cheyne, you must allow me to congratulate you most earnestly. You
+will own now that Providence has been good to you."
+
+"I will own that and everything," returned Magdalene, joyously. "I
+will own, if you like, that I treated you shamefully, and took a
+pleasure in tormenting you; and you were so patient,--oh, so patient,
+Mr. Drummond! I could have called you back sometimes and apologized,
+but I would not. In my bitter moments I felt it was such a relief to
+mock at people."
+
+"Never mind all that. Let bygones be bygones. I wish I could have
+served you better." And then, as he changed the subject, and spoke
+feelingly about the miracle of her husband's restoration, Mrs. Cheyne
+looked at him rather wistfully.
+
+"Oh, how good you are!" she said, softly. "Do you know, the world
+seems full of good people to me now; and yet once it appeared too bad
+a place for any one to live in. We create our own atmosphere,--at
+least so Herbert tells me. But you are looking thin, Mr.
+Drummond,--thin and pale. You must be working too hard."
+
+"Oh, as to that, hard work never hurts any one," he replied,
+carelessly; but there was something forced in his tone.
+
+Phillis, who had been sitting apart quite silently, raised her eyes
+involuntarily from her work. Was it her fancy, or had some undefinable
+change passed over him? They had seen him so little of late. Since all
+this had happened at the White House he had called once or twice; and
+once Nan had been there, and he had spoken to her much as usual. No
+one would have detected any difference in his manner, except that he
+was a little grave and preoccupied. Nan had not noticed anything; but
+then she was singularly blind in such matters. Had she not vaguely
+hinted that his visits were on Phillis's account?--that mere hint
+conveying exquisite pain to Phillis.
+
+Now, as she stole a glance at him, the conviction was strong within
+her that the arrow had gone deep. He certainly looked a little thin
+and care-worn, and something of a young man's vigor and hopefulness
+seemed temporarily impaired. But, as it happened, that girlish
+scrutiny was not unperceived by Archie. In a moment he was on the
+alert. His eyes challenged hers boldly, and it was Phillis who flushed
+and looked conscious.
+
+It was as though he said to her, "Ah! you think you know all about it.
+But you need not trouble yourself to be sorry for me; you do not know
+what a man's strength can do. And I am determined to bear this by
+myself, and to myself; for in silence there is power."
+
+It certainly seemed as though a new strength had come to Archie. He
+had been a man who was prone to speak much of his feelings. Irritable
+and sensitive, he had demanded much sympathy from his womankind. His
+was a nature that craved support in his work; but now, not even to
+Grace, could he speak of this trouble that had befallen him.
+
+Was it a trouble, after all, this vague shadow that lay about his
+path? No one but he himself knew the sweetness and graciousness of the
+dream that had come to him. It had only been a dream, after all; and
+now he was awake. The vision he had conjured up to himself had faded
+into unreality. She was not his second self: never by look or word had
+he wooed her; she was only the woman he could have loved. This was how
+he put it; and now he would bury this faint hope that was
+still-born,--that had never had breathed into it the breath of life.
+And if for a little while his future should be cloudy and bereft of
+its sunshine, was he the only one to whom "some days must be dark and
+dreary"?
+
+Phillis's unspoken sympathy drooped under this stern repression; and
+yet in her heart she reverenced him all the more for this moral
+strength,--for there is nothing a true woman abhors more than weakness
+in a man. After this silent rebuff, Archie took himself well in hand,
+and began to speak of other things: he told Mrs. Cheyne, being certain
+now of her interest, of his sister's intended marriage, and how he and
+Mattie were going down to the wedding.
+
+"He is a very good fellow, this intended brother-in-law of mine,--a
+sort of rough diamond; but hardly good enough for Isabel," he said.
+"Oh, yes, he is very rich. My poor little sister will have her head
+turned by all her magnificence; for his parents are so generous: they
+quite load her with gifts." And he smiled to himself at the notion of
+the little sister, just fresh from her narrow school-room life,
+rejoicing over her trousseau and her handsome house, and driving away
+from the church in her own carriage. No wonder his father and mother
+were pleased. As for the bridegroom-elect, Archie spoke of him with
+half-contemptuous amusement: "Oh, he was a good fellow,--no one wished
+to deny that;" but there was a want of culture and polish that grated
+upon the susceptibilities of the Oxford fellow.
+
+Phillis listened with undivided interest--especially when he mentioned
+Grace.
+
+"Mattie and I are in hopes that we shall bring her back with us; but,
+at all events, my mother has promised to spare her at Christmas." This
+time he addressed himself to Phillis.
+
+"Oh, that will be nice for you!" she returned a little eagerly. "You
+have told us so much about her that I quite long to know her."
+
+"I should say you would suit each other perfectly," he replied, as he
+rose to take his leave. "Sometimes you remind me of her, Miss
+Challoner; and yet you are not really alike. Good-bye, if I do not see
+you again before we go to Leeds." And Phillis gave him her hand, and a
+cordial smile.
+
+But when he had gone out of the room, his hostess accompanying
+him--for she had a word for his private ear,--Phillis sat down, and
+thought over those last words with a strange feeling of pleasure:
+"Sometimes you remind me of her, Miss Challoner." Was it possible that
+he could trace any resemblance between her and this dearly-beloved
+sister, this Grace, whom he seemed to regard as absolute perfection?
+
+"Oh, I hope she will come! I am sure we shall be such friends," she
+said to herself: and from this time Phillis looked anxiously for Grace
+Drummond's arrival.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+"A MAN HAS A RIGHT TO HIS OWN THOUGHTS."
+
+
+There were great rejoicings in the house in Lowder Street on the
+occasion of Isabel Drummond's marriage.
+
+There is always something pathetic in the first wedding in a
+family,--the first severing of the family circle,--the first break,
+the first ingathering of new interest. But when there are small means,
+and seven portionless daughters, very few of whom can be said to be
+gifted with good looks, a wealthy son-in-law must indeed be regarded
+as a direct blessing from Providence.
+
+That Mr. Drummond did so regard it, was evident from the jovial good
+humor that had replaced his usual moody and irritable manner; while
+his wife's beaming face, softened by maternal tenderness for the
+child who would no longer share the daily life with them, was a
+surprising spectacle to those acquainted with Mrs. Drummond's ordinary
+reserve and somewhat severe bearing. But it is not too much to say
+that on this occasion Mrs. Drummond was a happy woman.
+
+The tide of fortune, long so adverse to their interests, seemed
+turning in their favor at last. Archie had done great things for
+himself, and the mother's eyes rested on him proudly as he performed
+the marriage ceremony for his young sister, the gravity of his
+priestly office setting him apart, as it were, for her reverence as
+well as love. That Isabel had done great things for herself also could
+not be denied. But there were other causes for content in the mother's
+heart.
+
+Both the boys were doing well. Clyde had been articled to a lawyer, an
+old friend of Mr. Drummond's, and had won golden opinions from his
+chief, who pronounced him an intelligent, likely lad, and as sharp as
+a needle. Fred had lately obtained a clerkship in an old-established
+house in Leeds, and was also doing well, and his salary was a great
+boon to the straitened household. Grace, too, was doing her duty
+vigorously, and no longer vexed her mother's soul by her drooping
+looks of uncomplaining discontent,--that silent protest of many, that
+is so irritating to the home-rule. True, it might be only the
+quiescence of despair, but at least she veiled it decently under a
+show of Spartan cheerfulness. The fox of bitterness might gnaw, but
+she drew the mantle of her pride closer round her. She might suffer
+and pine, like a caged lark in her narrow cage, but at least no one,
+not even Archie, and least of all her mother, should guess the extent
+of her sufferings. So there was peace in Lowder Street. A truce had
+silently proclaimed itself between the two strong wills of the
+household; and, touched by a submission that somehow appealed to her
+generosity, Mrs. Drummond was secretly revolving schemes for her
+daughter's future happiness.
+
+"Mothers are mothers," as Nan had once sweetly said, and Mrs. Drummond
+was no exception to the rule. She could be hard to her own flesh and
+blood; she could exact obedience that was difficult to yield, and
+sacrifices that cost tears in plenty; but she was a just woman, and,
+when the right time came, she knew how to reward such obedience.
+
+But there was still another drop that filled the maternal cup of
+content almost to overflowing, and of this she spoke to Grace, as they
+were together in the mother's room, folding up the bridal finery. The
+little bride had just driven off, all tears and smiles. Archie and the
+boys had started off for a long walk. Mattie was with her sisters in
+the small ugly enclosure they called a garden; and Grace and her
+mother had gone up to shake out the satin dress and lay it between
+tissue-paper.
+
+"I hope she will be happy, poor little dear!" observed Grace, touching
+tenderly the Brussels-lace veil; for Isabel had been her first pupil
+and charge. "I do think and believe Ellis is really very fond of
+her."
+
+"Without doubt he is. His manners were all your father and I could
+wish. What a magnificent present, and how thoughtful, his bringing
+those diamond ear-drops just the last moment! Isabel has such pretty
+little ears. He is as proud of her as he can be. And really she looked
+quite lovely. Take care how you fold that veil, Grace. It is a perfect
+beauty."
+
+"Yes, mother," returned Grace, meekly.
+
+She was ready to drop with fatigue, for she had been up since six, and
+had dressed all her sisters one after another in their pretty
+bridesmaids' dresses, Mattie's skill as a lady's-maid being distrusted
+even by Dottie. But Mrs. Drummond was not satisfied, and took the lace
+out of her hand.
+
+"And, Grace, did you ever see any one so improved as Mattie? Her visit
+to Hadleigh is doing wonders for her. Last evening I could hardly help
+looking at her. She holds herself so much better, and her dresses are
+so pretty and well made. I never knew before that her figure was so
+nice."
+
+"Yes, indeed; she is wonderfully improved," returned Grace.
+
+But she said the words mechanically. Her mother's speech had touched a
+sore place in her memory. She knew who had transformed Mattie's
+dowdiness into comeliness and neatness. She might be an ordinary
+little woman in the world's opinion, but in the eyes of her family she
+was quite another Mattie. Those tasteful dresses had been made by
+those Challoners of whom Mattie spoke so much and Archie so little.
+
+Mrs. Drummond, who had not noticed her daughter's sudden abstraction,
+went on in the same satisfied tone:
+
+"She is not pretty, of course,--no one could ever call Mattie that at
+the best of times,--but now she has left off making a fright of
+herself, and hunching her shoulders with every word, she is quite
+passable-looking. I am glad you talked her out of being a bridesmaid.
+She would have looked absurd among the girls. But that green surah
+just suited her. It was good of Archie to buy her such a pretty dress;
+and yours that came from Hadleigh was even prettier, and wonderfully
+well made, considering they had only a pattern gown."
+
+"Yes; it fitted admirably;" but Grace spoke without enthusiasm.
+
+Archie, who knew her tastes, had chosen a soft, creamy stuff which he
+informed Mattie must be trimmed with no end of lace. Phillis had
+received and executed the order with such skill and discernment that a
+most ravishing costume had been produced. But Grace, who had her own
+ideas on the subject of those "Challoner girls," had received the gift
+somewhat coldly, and had even seemed displeased when her father
+pinched her ear and told her that Archie's gown had transformed her
+into a princess fit for a fairy-tale. "And there is always a prince
+in that, my dear,--eh, Gracie?" continued the lucky father, who could
+afford to laugh when one of the seven daughters had got a husband. But
+Grace would have nothing to do with the jest. She even got up a little
+frown, like her mother's on similar occasions.
+
+"Archie is so generous, dear old fellow!" continued Mrs. Drummond,
+breaking out afresh after a minute's interval, as she skilfully
+manipulated the veil. "That is what I always say. There never was such
+a son or brother. Do you think he is overworking, Grace, or that
+Mattie really looks after him well? But he strikes me as a little
+thin,--and--yes--perhaps a little grave."
+
+Grace's lips closed with an expression of pain. But her mother was
+looking at her and she must answer.
+
+"Well, if you ask me, mother," she returned, a little huskily, "I do
+not think Archie looks very well, or in his usual spirits; but I am
+sure Mattie takes good care of him," she continued, with careful
+veracity.
+
+"Humph! I am sorry to find you endorsing my opinion," replied Mrs.
+Drummond, thoughtfully. "I hoped you would say it was my fancy. He has
+not said anything to you that makes you uneasy?" with a touch of her
+old sharpness, remembering that Grace, and not she, was Archie's
+confidante; but Grace replied so quickly and decidedly, "Oh, no,
+mother; we have not exchanged a word together since he and Mattie
+arrived," that her maternal jealousy was allayed.
+
+But the next night, when she was alone with him for a few minutes, she
+was struck afresh by the gravity of his look as he sat by the window,
+pretending to read, but for the last half-hour he had not turned his
+page.
+
+"A penny for your thoughts, my son!" she said, so archly and abruptly
+that Archie started, and his brow grew crimson at finding himself
+watched.
+
+"Oh, they were nothing particular," he stammered; and then he said
+something about the fineness of the evening, and the possibility of
+his father coming in in time for a long walk.
+
+But Mrs. Drummond was not to be put off so easily. She left her seat,
+where she had been sewing as usual, and came and stood beside him a
+moment. He would have jumped up and given her his own chair, but she
+pressed his shoulder gently, as though to forbid the movement.
+
+"I like to stand, Archie. Yes, it is a lovely evening; but I think you
+ought to ask Grace, and not your father, to accompany you. Grace was
+always your companion, you know, and you must not drop old habits too
+suddenly." Then Archie saw that his avoidance of Grace had been
+marked.
+
+"Very well, I will ask her," he returned; but he showed none of his
+old alacrity and spirit in claiming his favorite.
+
+Mrs. Drummond noticed this; and the shade of anxiety on her face grew
+deeper.
+
+"Archie, you are not quite your old self with Grace; and I am sure she
+feels it. What has come between you, my dear?"
+
+"Why, nothing, mother;" and here he attempted a laugh. "Grace and I
+never quarrel, as you know."
+
+"I was not speaking of quarrelling," she returned, in a graver voice;
+"but you do not seek her out as you used. Before, when you arrived,
+you always disappointed me by shutting yourself up in the school-room,
+where no one could get at you; and now Grace tells me she has not had
+a word with you these four days."
+
+"Has Grace complained of me, then?"
+
+"You know Grace never complains of you. It was not said in any
+fault-finding way. We agreed you were not quite yourself, or in your
+usual spirits; and I asked her the reason. Tell me, my son, is there
+anything troubling you?" Archie sat silent. Mrs. Drummond was so
+rarely demonstrative to her children that even this well-beloved son
+had never heard before such chords of tenderness in his mother's
+voice; and, looking up, he saw that her keen gray eyes were softened
+and moist with tears. "You are not quite yourself, Archie,--not quite
+happy?" she went on.
+
+Then he took counsel with himself; and after a moment he answered
+her:
+
+"No, mother; you are right. I am not--not quite myself nor quite
+happy; but I mean to be both presently." And then he looked up in her
+face pleadingly, with an expression of entreaty that went to her
+heart, and continued: "But my own mother will not pain me by
+unnecessary questions that I could not answer." And then she knew that
+his will was that she should be silent.
+
+"Very well," she returned, with a sigh. "But you will tell me one
+thing, will you not, my dear! Is it--is it quite hopeless?" her
+mother's instinct, like that of the Eastern Caliph, immediately
+suggesting a woman in the case.
+
+"Quite--quite hopeless!--as dead as this!" bringing down his hand on a
+large defunct moth. "Talking will not bring to life, or help a man, to
+carry a real burden."
+
+Then, as she kissed him, she knew that his pain had been very great,
+but that he meant to bear it with all the strength he could bring.
+
+Grace went up to prepare for her walk that evening with no very
+pleasurable anticipations. Her mother had given her Archie's message
+in due form, as she sat somewhat sadly by the school-room window,
+mending a frock Dottie had just torn.
+
+"Archie wants you to go out with him, Grace," Mrs. Drummond said, as
+she came in, in her usual active bustling way. "The grass never grew
+under her feet," as she was often pleased to observe. "Loitering and
+lagging make young bones grow prematurely old," she would say, coining
+a new proverb for the benefit of lazy Susie. "Never measure your
+footsteps when you are about other people's business," she would say
+to Laura, who hated to be hunted up from her employment for any
+errand. "He thinks of going over to Blackthorn Farm, as it is so fine;
+and the walk will do you good," continued Mrs. Drummond, with a keen
+look at her daughter's pale face. "Give me Dottie's frock: that little
+monkey is always getting into mischief." But Grace yielded her task
+reluctantly.
+
+"Are you sure he wishes me to go, mother?"
+
+"Quite sure," was the brief answer; but she added no more.
+
+Silence was ever golden to this busy, hard-working mother. She was
+generally sparing of words. Grace, who saw that her mother was bent on
+her going, made no further demur; but, as she put on her
+walking-things, she told herself that Archie was only making a virtue
+of necessity. He was so little eager for her society that he had not
+sought her himself, but had sent her a message. Ever since his return,
+no light-springing footsteps had been heard on the uncarpeted stairs
+leading to the school-room. He had forsaken their old haunt, where
+they had once talked so happily, sitting hand in hand on the old
+window-seat.
+
+Grace felt herself grievously wounded. For months a barrier had been
+between her and Archie. He had written seldom; and his letters, when
+they came, told her nothing. In manner he was kindness itself. That
+there was no change in his affection was evident; but the key to his
+confidence was mislaid. He had withdrawn himself into some inner
+citadel, where he seemed all at once inaccessible, and her sisterly
+soul was vexed within her.
+
+He met her at the door with his usual smile of welcome.
+
+"That is right, Grace; you have not kept me long waiting," he said,
+pleasantly, as she came towards him; and then, as they walked down
+Lowder Street, he commenced talking at once. He had so much to tell
+her, he said; and here Grace's pulses began to throb expectantly; but
+the eager light died out of her face when he went on to detail a long
+conversation he had had with his mother the previous night. Was that
+all? she thought. Was the longed-for confidence still to be withheld?
+
+Archie did not seem to notice her silence: he rattled on volubly.
+
+"I think we were hard on the mother, Gracie, you and I," he said.
+"After all, I believe she was right in not giving us our own way in
+the spring."
+
+"I am glad you think so," replied Grace, coldly. Archie winced at her
+tone, but recovered himself, and went on gayly:
+
+"It does one good sometimes to have one's wishes crossed; and, after
+all, it was only fair that poor Mattie, being the eldest, should have
+her turn. She does her best, poor little soul! and, though I find her
+terribly trying sometimes, I can hold out pretty patiently until
+Christmas; and then mother herself suggested that you should take her
+place at the vicarage."
+
+"I! oh, no, Archie!" And here the color flushed over Gracie's face,
+and her eyes filled with tears. The news was so unexpected,--so
+overwhelming. Another time the sweetness of it would have filled her
+with rapture. But now! "Oh, no, no!" she cried, in so vehement a tone
+that her brother turned in surprise, and something of her meaning came
+home to him.
+
+"Wait a moment," he said, deprecatingly. "I have not finished yet what
+I want to say. Mother said Mattie was greatly improved by her visit,
+and that she was infinitely obliged to me for yielding to her wish.
+She told me plainly that it was impossible to have spared you
+before,--that you were her right hand with the girls, and that even
+now your loss would be great."
+
+"I do not mean to leave mother," returned Grace, in a choked voice.
+
+"Not if I want you and ask you to come?" he replied, with reproachful
+tenderness, "Why, Grace, what has become of our old compact?"
+
+"You do not need me now," she faltered, hardly able to speak without
+weeping.
+
+"We will talk of that by and by," was the somewhat impatient answer.
+"Just at this minute I want to tell you all the mother said on the
+subject. Facts before feelings, please," with a touch of sarcasm; but
+he pointed it with a smile. "You see, Grace, Isabel's marriage makes a
+difference. There is one girl off my father's hands. And then the boys
+are doing so well. Mother thinks that in another three months Clara
+may leave the school-room; she will be seventeen then, and, as Ellis
+has promised her a course of music-lessons, to develop her one talent,
+you may consider her off your hands."
+
+"Clara will never do me credit," returned his sister, mournfully: "she
+works steadily and takes pains, but she was never as clever as
+Isabel."
+
+"No; she is no shining light, as mother owns; but she will play
+beautifully, if she be properly trained. Well, as to the other girls,
+it appears that my father has decided to accept my offer of sending
+Susie to a first-class boarding-school; and, as he has determined to
+do the same for Laura, there is only Dottie for Mattie to manage or
+mismanage. So you see, Gracie, your school-room drudgery is over.
+Mother herself, by her own will, has opened the prison-doors."
+
+He spoke in a light jesting tone, but Grace answered, almost
+passionately,--
+
+"I tell you no, Archie! I no longer wish it so; it is too late: things
+are now quite different."
+
+"What do you mean?" he returned, with a long steady look that seemed
+to draw out her words in spite of her resolve not to speak them.
+
+"I mean that things are changed--that you no longer need me, or wish
+me to live with you."
+
+"I need you more," he returned, calmly; "perhaps I have never needed
+you so much. As for living with me, is it your desire to condemn me to
+an existence of perfect loneliness?--for after Christmas Mattie leaves
+me. You are mysterious, Grace; you are not your old self."
+
+"Oh, it is you that are not yourself!" she retorted, in a tone of
+grief. "Why have you avoided me? why do you withhold your confidence?
+why do your letters tell me nothing? and then you come and are still
+silent."
+
+"What is it that you would have me tell you?" he asked; but this time
+he did not look her in the face.
+
+"I would know this thing that has come between us and robbed me of
+your confidence. You are ill at ease; you are unhappy, Archie! You
+have never kept a trouble from me before: it was always I who shared
+your hopes and fears."
+
+"You may still share them. I am not changed, as you imagine Grace. All
+that I can tell you I will, even if you demand it in that
+'money-or-your-life' style, as you are doing now," trying to turn it
+off with a jest.
+
+"Oh, Archie!"
+
+"Well, what of Archie, now?"
+
+"That you should laugh away my words! you have never done that
+before."
+
+"Very well, I will be serious; nay, more, I will be solemn. Grace, I
+forbid you ever to mention this thing again, on pain of my bitter
+displeasure!"
+
+Then, as she looked at him, too much startled to answer, he went on:
+
+"A man has a right to his own thoughts, if he choose to keep them to
+himself and his Maker. There are some things with which even you may
+not meddle, Grace. What if my life holds a grief which I would bury
+from all eyes but my own? would you tear up the clods with unhallowed
+fingers? To no living person but my Saviour"--and here Archie looked
+up with reverent eyes--"will I speak of this thing." Then she clung to
+his arm, and tears flowed over her cheeks.
+
+"Oh, Archie! forgive me! forgive me! I never meant to hurt you like
+this; I will not say another word!"
+
+"You have not hurt me," he returned, striving after his old manner,
+"except in refusing to live with me. I am lonely enough, God knows!
+and a sister who understands me, and with whom I could have sympathy,
+would be a great boon."
+
+"Then I will come," she replied; drying her eyes. "If you want me, I
+will come, Archie."
+
+"I do want you; and I have never told you anything but the truth. But
+you must come and be happy, my dear. I want you, yourself, and not a
+grave, reticent creature who has gone about the house the last few
+days, looking at me askance, as though I had committed some deadly
+sin."
+
+Then the dimple showed itself in Grace's cheek.
+
+"Have I really been so naughty, Archie?"
+
+"Yes, you have been a very shadowy sort of Grace; but I give you full
+absolution, only don't go and do it any more." And, as she looked at
+him with her eyes full of sorrowful yearning, he went on, hastily:
+"Oh, I am all right, and least said is soonest mended. I am like the
+dog in AEsop's fable, who mistook the shadow for the substance. A poor
+sort of dog, that fellow. Well, is your poor little mind at rest,
+Grace?" And the tone in which she said "Yes" seemed to satisfy him,
+for he turned their talk into another channel.
+
+When Mrs. Drummond saw her daughter's face that evening, she knew the
+cloud had passed between the brother and sister.
+
+Grace followed her to her room that night,--a thing she had not done
+for months.
+
+"Mother, I must thank you for being so good to us," she began,
+impulsively, as soon as she had crossed the threshold.
+
+"How have I been good to you, Grace?" observed her mother, calmly, as
+she unfastened her brooch. "Of course, I have always tried to be good
+to my children, although they do not seem to think so."
+
+"Ah, but this is very special goodness: and I am more grateful than I
+can say. Are you sure you will be able to spare me, mother?"
+
+"After Christmas?--oh, yes: things will be possible then. If I
+remember rightly, I had to endure some very bitter words from you on
+this very subject. I hope you will do justice to my judgment at that
+time."
+
+"Yes, mother," with downcast eyes. "I am afraid Archie and I were very
+wilful."
+
+"You were wilful, Grace,"--for Mrs. Drummond never suffered any one to
+find fault with her son in her hearing,--"you who ought to have known
+better. And yet I do believe that, but for my determination to enforce
+the right thing, you would have left your post, and all your duties,
+because Archie wanted you."
+
+"I was wrong. I see that plainly."
+
+"Yes, you were wrong: for a long time you bore yourself towards me as
+no daughter ought to bear herself to her mother. You angered me
+sorely, Grace, because I saw you were hardening yourself against me,
+only because I insisted that no child of mine should neglect her
+duty."
+
+"Mother, surely I am humbling myself now?"
+
+"True; but how long have I waited for this confession? Night after
+night I have said to myself, 'Surely Grace will come and tell me that
+she feels herself in the wrong!' But no such words came. At last I
+ceased to hope for them; and now at this eleventh hour you can hardly
+expect me to show much joy at hearing them spoken."
+
+Then Grace's head drooped, and she was silent. She knew she deserved
+all these hard words, bitter as they were to bear; but Mrs. Drummond
+had said her say.
+
+"Well, well, better late than never; and we will say no more about it.
+Next time you will understand me better, Grace."
+
+Then, as her mother kissed her, Grace knew that her sin was condoned.
+Nevertheless, as she left the room a few minutes later, her heart was
+not quite so light in her bosom; she felt that her mother had been
+just, but hardly generous.
+
+"I thought mothers forgave more easily," she said to herself, in
+somewhat aggrieved fashion. She had no idea that her mother was
+equally disappointed.
+
+Mrs. Drummond was a hard, but not an unloving woman; and she would
+have liked more demonstration from her daughters. If Grace, for
+example, instead of all these words, had thrown herself into her arms
+and owned herself in the wrong, with a child-like pleading for
+forgiveness, Mrs. Drummond would have felt herself satisfied, and
+would have pressed her to her bosom with a loving word or two that
+Grace would have remembered when her mother was in her grave. But such
+outward forms of tenderness were not possible to Mrs. Drummond's
+daughters: for in such matters we must reap as we sow; and Mrs.
+Drummond's manner hardly merited softness. For there are mothers and
+mothers; and the world must produce its Drummonds and its Challoners
+until the end of time.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+ABOUT NOTHING PARTICULAR.
+
+
+It was as well that Grace had had this talk with her brother; for,
+during the two days that remained of his brief visit, they were not
+alone together until the last half-hour before his departure. The
+young vicar had to return for his Sunday duties; but Mattie remained
+behind for another week. Archie, indeed, had once sought her in his
+old fashion,--running up to the school-room for a chat; but Susie had
+been there all the time. In former days, Archie would have sent her
+away with blunt peremptoriness; but now he seemed well content to have
+her there. He had no secrets to discuss, as he sat in his old place in
+the window-seat; yet Grace was too happy to see him there to find
+fault with his discourse.
+
+But on the morning of his departure she had come down early to pour
+out his coffee. He had bidden his mother good-bye in her room; but he
+knew that, in spite of the earliness of the hour, Grace would be in
+her place to minister to his wants.
+
+"Well, Grace," he said, entering with his travelling-plaid over his
+arm, "so it is to be good-bye until Christmas."
+
+"Yes," she returned, looking at him with a sort of wistfulness; "but
+the time will pass quickly now. It is so nice to think that we shall
+begin our new year together." And, as her brother checked an
+involuntary sigh, she went on eagerly: "If you knew how happy I am
+about it! It will be something to wake every morning and know you are
+not a hundred miles off,--that when I come down to breakfast I shall
+find you there,--that I shall be able to talk to you as much as I
+like; and as for work, why, it will be play to me to work for you,
+Archie!"
+
+"Of course I know that," rather mischievously.
+
+"I would work for you like a servant: would I not, dear? I mean to be
+ever so good to you. Your friends shall be my friends; your likes and
+dislikes shall be mine too."
+
+"Why, Gracie," he said, humoring her, "this is more than a wife would
+do for me!"
+
+"Ah! but it is not too much to ask from a sister," she returned,
+earnestly. "When you bring home your wife, Archie, I mean to be good
+to her too. I shall have to leave you then, and come back here; but if
+you are happy I shall not be miserable." But he interrupted her a
+little impatiently.
+
+"What put such nonsense into your head? I shall never marry. We shall
+be a pattern of old-bachelor brother and maiden sister." And then he
+pushed away his plate, and went to the window. "Is it not Mrs. Carlyle
+who quotes that quaint old story about some one who always thanked God
+'for the blessings that passed over his or her head'? Is not that a
+curious idea, when one comes to think it out? Fancy thanking heaven
+really and seriously for all our disappointed hopes and plans,--for
+'the blessings that go over our heads'! It would be a new clause in
+our petitions,--eh, Gracie?"
+
+"Why, yes," she replied, as she came and stood near him. "I am afraid
+I could never say that from my heart."
+
+"It is not easy," he returned, quietly; "but I do not know that we
+ought to give up trying, for all that." And then his manner changed,
+and he put his arm round her in his old fashion. "Recollect, I want
+you very much, Grace: your coming will make me far happier. Mattie
+only touches the outside of things; I want some one near me who can go
+deeper than that,--who will help me with real work, and put up with my
+bad humors; for I am a man who is very liable to discouragement." And
+when he had said this, he bade her good-bye.
+
+It was a comfort to Archie to find himself hard at work again. These
+few days of idleness had been irksome to him. Now he could throw
+himself without stint or limit into his pastoral labors, walking miles
+of country road until he was weary, and planning new outlets for the
+feverish activity that seemed to stimulate him to fresh efforts.
+
+People began to talk of the young vicar. His sermons were changed
+somehow. There was more in them,--"less of the husk, and more of the
+kernel," as Miss Middleton once remarked rather pithily.
+
+They were wonderfully brief discourses; but, whereas they had once
+been elegant and somewhat scholarly productions, they were now earnest
+and even pungent. If the sentences were less carefully compiled, more
+rough-hewn, and deficient in polish, there was matter in them that
+roused people and made them think.
+
+"I never could remember Mr. Drummond's sermons before," Dulce once
+observed, "but now I can recollect whole sentences quite nicely."
+
+Phillis, to whom she spoke, assented by a nod. If she had chosen, she
+could have admitted the fact that she could remember not sentences,
+but the entire sermon itself. In secret she marvelled also at the
+change.
+
+"He is more earnest," she would say to herself. "He preaches now, not
+from the outside, but from the inside of things,--from his own
+experience, not from other people's. That makes the difference."
+
+And to Nan, who was her other conscience, she said one day, when they
+were discussing this subject,--
+
+"I have been thinking a great deal about sermons lately. I wish I
+could publish the result of my cogitation. I feel inclined to write a
+pamphlet and entitle it 'Hints to the Clergy.' I think it would take
+vastly."
+
+It was Sunday afternoon, and they were sitting together on their
+favorite boulder. Phillis had christened it her "thinking-stone."
+
+"I never think to more purpose than when I am sitting here," she would
+say.
+
+Nan, who was looking out to sea rather dreamily, intent on her usual
+vision, Dick, roused herself at this, and began to smile in a lofty
+way.
+
+"You think yourself very clever, Phillis, and so do I; but sermons are
+hardly in your province, my dear."
+
+Phillis shook her head gravely. She dissented from this view of the
+case.
+
+"Common sense is in every one's province," she persisted. "I am a
+practical woman, and some of my hints would be valuable. Sermons are
+failures, Nan. They go over people's heads like a flight of badly-shot
+arrows. Does not Goulburn say that? Now and then one touches the mark.
+When they are all let fly hither and thither and anyhow, the preacher
+shuts up his book, and his hearers cease to yawn."
+
+"Oh, Phillis, how absurd you are! Suppose Mr. Drummond were to hear
+you?"
+
+"I should have no objection. But, Nan, seriously, do you not notice
+how formal and cut-and-dried most sermons are? They come round
+regularly, like Sunday. People have to bear being preached at, and so
+the unfortunate parson must hammer it out of his head somehow. He
+picks out his text, writes out his composition, drags in his learning
+by the ear, and delivers it in his best fashion; and people listen to
+it politely, and the best behaved do not yawn."
+
+"Phillis, you are positively irreverent! I am shocked at you!"
+
+"On the contrary, I am very reverent. Well, in my 'Hints to the
+Clergy' I would say, first, 'Never preach what you do not feel
+yourself, or the current of electricity or sympathy, or whatever it is
+that communicates between preacher and people, will be checked or
+impeded. Do not preach out of the book: we can read that for
+ourselves. Preach out of your own head and your own experience, just
+as much as you can.' Bless you," continued Phillis, in a wise,
+half-sad tone, "half the pulpits would be empty: we should get
+sometimes no sermons at all!"
+
+This was too much for Nan's simplicity.
+
+"But people would be so disappointed," she observed, plaintively. "All
+the middle-aged people like sermons."
+
+"It would not hurt them to be disappointed sometimes. They would
+appreciate the real thing all the more when it came. It is as well to
+go without food altogether as to be fed on husks. After all, people
+forget that they come to church to say their prayers all together, and
+sing glorias."
+
+"That is very nicely said, dear," was Nan's admiring comment on this.
+
+But Phillis waved aside the praise. She was quite in earnest.
+
+"But if I were speaking to one of these real and not make-believe
+preachers, I would say to him, 'Never be discouraged. Say what you
+have got to say: if you really feel it and mean it, some one will feel
+it too. You can't see into people's hearts: and a good thing, too, my
+friend. But "the arrow at the venture" may tell; some one may be "hit
+between the joints of the armor."' There, come along; you shall have
+more of my hints another time. I have said my say for the present."
+And Phillis rose from the boulder, with her eyes bright and kindled by
+some moving thought, and went down to the edge of the water, and
+watched a sea-gull dipping towards the shore in the midst of the windy
+lights; while Nan, marvelling at her sister's unusual earnestness,
+followed more slowly.
+
+The Challoners were holding up their heads in the place now. There was
+no denying that. By the people at the vicarage and the White House
+they were owned and regarded as equals. Mrs. Cheyne made no secret of
+her affection for Phillis; and she was full of kindness also to Nan
+and Dulce. It was their own fault if they declined her frequent
+invitations. But there was one person who refused to hold out the hand
+of amity to the eccentric new-comers.
+
+Colonel Middleton still shook his white head, and delivered his
+protest into his daughter's ear. Elizabeth, declared, laughingly,
+"that the Challoner girls were to her father what a red rag is to a
+bull." He never met one of them without coming home and relieving his
+mind, as he called it. "My father is dying to know them," she would
+say to Mr. Drummond. "He has fallen in love with them all,--mother and
+daughters too; but he is denying himself an introduction for a certain
+reason." But, though Archie looked curious and questioned her very
+closely, she chose to be provoking and say no more. It was Colonel
+Middleton who at last enlightened the young man.
+
+They were walking from the town together. The colonel was carrying his
+stick musket-wise over his shoulder, and had the vicar by the arm,
+when Phillis and Dulce came out of the gateway of the White House. As
+the girls passed Archie, they smiled at him and nodded, and Phillis,
+in a pretty way she had, waved her hand; and then they went on rapidly
+towards the Friary. As they did so, Colonel Middleton groaned, and
+touched his companion's arm impressively.
+
+"There, now, Drummond, did you ever see girls with a better
+carriage?--heads up--light springy step? Why, it is a pleasure even to
+an old fellow like myself to watch them. Fancy that taller one on
+horseback in the Row! Why, she would cut out half the girls. And think
+that one dare not notice them!" And he struck his stick into the
+ground almost angrily.
+
+Archie smiled: he could not help it. The colonel was so whimsical in
+his wrath.
+
+"They had plenty of notice from the folk at the White House," he
+returned, quietly.
+
+"Ah, Cheyne was always a bit of a Radical, and madam is no better.
+They can do as they like, without being afraid of consequences. But
+that is not my case." And, as Archie looked at him rather mystified,
+he went on: "Bless me, you do not suppose I am afraid of knowing them
+for my own sake? Elizabeth tells me that she is intimate with them.
+But that is not my business, so long as she does not have them at
+Brooklyn. 'We must draw the line there, Elizabeth,' I said. 'If you
+choose to visit your dressmakers, it is not for me to prevent you; you
+are old enough to select your own friends, so you may be as eccentric
+as you like. But your brother is coming home. Young men are young men;
+and I do not choose to expose Hammond to such temptation.'"
+
+"Oh, Hammond! That is your son, I suppose?" asked Archie, who was much
+amused at the colonel's earnestness.
+
+"Yes; my boy Hammond! the finest fellow in the regiment, though I say
+it, who should not. Do you think that I, his father, would expose him
+to such danger as to throw him into the society of a set of
+fascinating young women who have chosen to emancipate themselves from
+all conventionality, and who call themselves--stuff and
+rubbish!--dressmakers?"
+
+"Not call themselves, so: they are excellent dressmakers!" was
+Archie's somewhat malicious reply.
+
+"All the more reason that my son should not know them!" thundered the
+old man. "What, sir! an officer in one of her Majesty's regiments--the
+son and grandson of officers,--is such a one to be mixed up with a
+family that has lost caste,--to flirt with or make love to girls who
+are not above making gowns for my butcher's wife? Before Hammond does
+such a thing as that----" And here the colonel paused from excess of
+emotion.
+
+"You are perfectly right to defend your son from such danger,"
+returned the young clergyman with covert sarcasm. "In your case I
+should probably feel the same. But, in my position, being intimate
+with those ladies of whom you speak, and having had good opportunity
+to form my opinions of them, I cannot help saying, in their defence,
+that even your son, excellent officer as he is,--and, I am sure, a
+most worthy young man,--would scarcely be dishonored by an alliance
+with the finest young gentlewomen I ever met!" And, as he said this,
+with all due gravity, Archie released his arm, and, with a farewell
+nod, went off, leaving the colonel, open-mouthed and gasping with
+astonishment, at his own gate.
+
+Elizabeth met him on the threshold.
+
+"Oh, father, why did you not bring Mr. Drummond in!" she said,
+reproachfully; "it is so long since he has paid us a visit."
+
+"Poor Drummond!" replied the colonel, with a mournful shake of his
+head: "it is just as I thought. He has almost owned it, in fact. He is
+seriously smitten with one of those Challoner girls, and before long
+there will be a wedding in the place."
+
+"Now, father, this is just one of your whimsies," replied Elizabeth,
+placidly. "Mr. Drummond is going to have his favorite sister, Grace,
+to live with him and keep his house. He told me so himself; and that
+does not look as though he expected to bring home a wife. So you may
+just put this idea out of your head." But, though Elizabeth was well
+aware of the truth of her words, that no new mistress was to come to
+the vicarage, still her fine sympathy and unerring woman's divination
+had read the meaning of the young vicar's clouded brow, and she knew
+that he, too, had to try and be grateful for "the blessings that went
+over his head."
+
+Archie's grand and somewhat heroic speech failed in its effect, as far
+as the colonel was concerned. Elizabeth was right in saying her father
+was longing to know the Challoners. The old man's fancy had been
+mightily taken by the girls; but for Hammond, for his boy's sake, he
+was capable of any amount of self-denial. Once he was sorely tempted
+to give in. When turning the corner of the Braidwood Road, not far
+from his own house, he came suddenly upon his daughter, who was
+standing on the side-path, talking to Dulce.
+
+Dulce, who always seemed a sort of reflection and shadow of her
+sisters, and who withdrew somewhat in the background, obscured a
+little by Nan's beauty and Phillis's sprightliness, was nevertheless
+in her way a most bewitching little maiden.
+
+"There comes my father!" observed Elizabeth, tranquilly, never
+doubting that he would join them; and Dulce looked up a little shy and
+fluttered from under her broad-brimmed hat; for she had taken a fancy
+to the colonel, with his white moustache and kindly inquisitive
+eyes. He was a sort of hero in her fancy; and Dulce loved
+heroes,--especially when they wore a medal.
+
+Colonel Middleton saw the little girl dimpling and blushing with
+pleasure, and his old heart thumped a little with excitement and the
+conflict of feeling: the innocent child-look appealed to his fatherly
+sympathies. There was a moment's wavering; then he lifted his white
+hat, with a muttered "Good-morning," and the next minute he was
+walking on with squared shoulders and tremendous energy.
+
+Poor little Dulce's lip quivered with disappointment: she thought it
+hard, when other people were so kind to them. Elizabeth said nothing;
+but she bade the child good-bye with greater tenderness than usual,
+and sent all sort of messages to her mother and Nan.
+
+The colonel, meanwhile, had retreated into the house, and was opening
+his papers with more than his usual fuss.
+
+"It is for Hammond," he murmured to himself. "When one has boys, one
+must do one's duty by them; but it was confoundedly hard, by Jove!"
+And all the remainder of the day a pair of appealing eyes seemed to
+reproach him with unkindness. But Elizabeth never said a word; it was
+not her place to find fault with her father.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+"HOW DO YOU DO, AUNT CATHERINE?"
+
+
+One drizzling November morning, Mattie was standing at the hall door,
+looking out a little blankly through the open gateway at the prospect
+before her,--at the rotting leaves that lay heaped up in the road, and
+at the gray, humid sky,--when a very big man suddenly blocked up the
+entrance, and startled her dreadfully.
+
+Mattie afterwards described the occurrence very graphically to her
+brother:
+
+"He was the biggest man I ever saw in my life, Archie. He looked as
+strong as a navvy; and his shoulders reminded me of one of those men
+one sees in brewers' drays. And his face was so red, and his hair,
+too,--that dreadfully red color, you know, that no one admires; and
+his hands, and even his voice, were big."
+
+"What a fascinating description!" laughed Archie. "Upon my word,
+Mattie, you are rather tremendous in your language. Well, and what did
+the navvy say to you?"
+
+"Oh, he was not a navvy, really! Of course he was a gentleman. He
+could not help his big voice, and what he said was nice; but, I assure
+you, Archie, he nearly took my breath away;" and so on, and so on, to
+the end of her story.
+
+But it was enough to surprise any one whose nerves were not of the
+strongest, when one lives in a lonely country road, and the master of
+the house is out, to see a gigantic specimen of manhood, not very
+carefully dressed, and with hair like a red glory, come suddenly
+striding through one's open gate, without "by your leave," or waiting
+for any possible permission.
+
+Mattie dropped her umbrella,--for she was dressed in her waterproof,
+and her oldest hat, ready for her district-work; and the stranger
+picked it up, and handed it to her promptly, and then he removed his
+hat politely.
+
+"How do you do, cousin?" he said; and a broad, genial smile revealed a
+set of white teeth.
+
+Mattie retreated a step in genuine affright.
+
+"For you know, Archie," she explained afterwards, in her simple way,
+"we have no cousins worth mentioning, except Sophy Trinder, who is not
+our cousin at all, but mother's; and so you see it sounded so very
+odd."
+
+"Very odd indeed," muttered Archie.
+
+"If you please, Mr. Drummond--that is my brother--is out, and I am
+going out too," faltered Mattie, who was not a specially heroic little
+person, and who decidedly had not got her wits about her just then.
+
+"I do not want Mr. Drummond, whoever he may be. I never heard of him
+in my life. I only want my aunt and cousins. Which of them are you,
+eh? Why, you must be Nan, I suppose?" And the big man looked down at
+her with a sort of supercilious good nature. The name gave Mattie
+instant enlightenment.
+
+"Nan!--Oh, you must mean the Challoners!" she exclaimed, with a little
+gasp of surprise.
+
+"Yes, of course; I am a Challoner myself. Well, which of them are you,
+eh? You are a long time telling me your name." And the new-comer
+peered down at her still more curiously, as though he were surprised
+to find anything so small and ordinary-looking.
+
+Mattie never looked to advantage in her waterproof. More than once her
+brother had threatened to burn the old rag of a thing.
+
+"My name is Mattie Drummond," replied the bewildered Mattie, trying
+to speak with dignity,--she never would call herself Matilda, she
+hated it so,--"and I live with my brother, who is the clergyman of the
+parish. This is the vicarage: if you want the Friary, it is a little
+lower down the road."
+
+"Where?" he asked, striding to the gate; and then he came back again,
+taking the few steps at a single bound,--so at least it appeared to
+Mattie. "Why--why--there is no house at all--only a miserable cottage,
+and----"
+
+"That is the Friary," repeated Mattie, decidedly; "but it is not
+miserable at all: it is very nice and pretty. The Challoners are very
+poor, you know; but their house looks beautiful for all that."
+
+"Oh, yes; I know all about it. I have been down to that place,
+Oldfield, where they lived; and what I heard has brought me here like
+an express train. I say, Miss Mattie Drummond, if you will excuse
+ceremony in a fellow who has never seen his father's country before,
+and who has roughed it in the colonies, may I come in a moment and ask
+you a few questions about my cousins?"
+
+"Oh, by all means," returned Mattie, who was very good-natured and was
+now more at her ease. "You will be very welcome, Mr. Challoner."
+
+"Sir Henry Challoner, at your service," responded that singular
+individual with a twinkle of his eye, as Mattie became confused all at
+once. "You see," he continued, confidentially, as she led the way
+rather awkwardly to her brother's study, hoping fervently that Archie
+would come in, "I have been making up my mind to come to England for
+years, but somehow I have never been able to get away; but after my
+father's death--he was out in Australia with me--I was so lonely and
+cut up that I thought I would take a run over to the mother-country
+and hunt up my relations. He was not much of a father perhaps; but, as
+one cannot have a choice in such matters, I was obliged to put up with
+him;" which was perhaps the kindest speech Sir Francis's son could
+make under the circumstances.
+
+Mattie listened intelligently, but she was so slightly acquainted with
+the Challoners' past history that she did not know they possessed any
+relations. But she had no need to ask any questions: the new-comer
+seemed determined to give a full account of himself.
+
+"So do you see, Miss Drummond, having made my fortune by a stroke of
+good luck, and not knowing quite how to spend it--the father and
+mother both gone,--and having no wife or chick of my own, and being
+uncommon lonely under the circumstances, I thought I would just run
+over and have a look at my belongings. I have a sort of fancy for Aunt
+Catherine; she used to write me such pretty letters when I was a
+little chap in Calcutta, and tell me about Nan, and Phillis, and--what
+was the baby's name?--Dulce. I believe she and the poor old governor
+never hit it off: the old man had been a sad sinner in his day. But I
+never forgot those letters: and when he was gone, poor old boy! I said
+to myself, Now I will go and see Aunt Catherine."
+
+"And you went down to Oldfield, Sir Henry?"
+
+"Eh, what? meaning me, I suppose? but out there they called me Sir
+Harry, or Harry mostly, for what was the use of a title there? Oh,
+yes, I went down and found out all about them from a chatty little
+woman, rather like yourself, and she sent me on here."
+
+"Oh, dear, I am so glad!" exclaimed Mattie, who was now thoroughly
+herself: "they will be so pleased to see you, and you will think them
+all so charming. I am sure I never saw any one the least like them,
+except Grace, and she is not half so pretty as Nan; and as for
+Phillis, I admire her even more, she lights up so when she talks."
+
+"Aunt Catherine used to be beautiful," observed Sir Harry, gravely;
+for then and afterwards he insisted on that form of address. He was
+not English enough or sufficiently stiff for Henry, he would say.
+
+"Oh, dear, yes! she is quite lovely now,--at least Archie and I think
+so; and Dulce is the dearest little thing. I am ever so fond of them;
+if they were my own sisters I could not love them more," continued
+Mattie, with a little gush; but, indeed the girls' gentle high-bred
+ways had won her heart from the first.
+
+Sir Harry's eyes positively sparkled with delight; he had pleasant
+eyes which redeemed his other features, for it must be confessed he
+was decidedly plain.
+
+"I must shake hands with you, Miss Drummond," he said, stretching out
+a huge hand, with a diamond ring on it that greatly impressed Mattie.
+"We shall be good friends, I see that." And though poor Mattie winced
+with pain under that cordial grasp, she hid it manfully.
+
+"Did they tell you at Oldfield how poor they are?" she said, when this
+ceremony had been performed, and Sir Harry's face looked more like a
+sunset than ever with that benevolent glow on it.
+
+"Oh, yes," he returned, indifferently; "but all that is over now."
+
+"You know they have to work for their living; the girls are
+dressmakers," bringing out the news rather cautiously, for fear he
+should be shocked; a baronet must be sensitive on such points. But Sir
+Harry only laughed.
+
+"Well, they are plucky girls," he said, admiringly; "I like them for
+that." And then he asked, a little anxiously, if his aunt sewed gowns
+too,--that was how he put it,--and seemed mightily relieved to hear
+that she did very little but read to the girls.
+
+"I would not like to hear she was slaving herself at her age," he
+remarked, seriously. "Work will not hurt the girls: it keeps them out
+of mischief. But now I have come, we must put a stop to all this." And
+then he got up and threw back his shoulders, as though he were
+adjusting them to some burden; and Mattie, as she looked up at him,
+thought again of the brewer's dray.
+
+"I was afraid when he got off his chair he would touch the ceiling,"
+she said, afterwards. "He quite stooped of his own accord going
+through the study doorway."
+
+When Sir Henry had shaken himself into order, and pulled an end of his
+rough red moustache, he said, quite suddenly,--
+
+"As you are a friend of the family, Miss Drummond, I think it would be
+as well if you would go with me to the Friary and introduce me in due
+form; for, though you would not believe it in a man of my size, I am
+painfully shy, and the notion of all these girls, unless I take them
+singly, is rather overwhelming." And, though this request took Mattie
+a little by surprise, she saw no reason for refusing to do him this
+kindness. So she assented willingly, for in her heart Mattie was fond
+of a scene. It gave her such a hold on Archie's attention afterwards;
+and, to do him justice, when the Challoners were on the _tapis_, he
+made a splendid listener.
+
+Sir Henry walked very fast, as though he were in a tremendous hurry;
+but he was nervous, poor fellow, and, though he did not like to own as
+much to a woman, he would almost have liked to run away, in spite of
+his coming all those thousands of miles to see his relations. He had
+pressed Mattie into the service to cover his confusion, but the little
+woman herself hardly saw how she was needed, for, instead of waiting
+for her introduction, or sending in his name or card by Dorothy, he
+just put them both aside and stepped into the first room that stood
+handy, guided by the sound of voices.
+
+"How do you do, Aunt Catherine?" he said, walking straight up to the
+terrified lady, who had never seen anything so big in her life. "I am
+Harry,--Harry Challoner, you know,--to whom you used to write when I
+was a little slip of a boy."
+
+A strange queen in a hive of bees could not have produced more
+confusion. Dulce stopped her sewing-machine so suddenly that her
+thread broke; Phillis, who was reading aloud, let her book fall with
+quite a crash; and Nan said, "Oh, dear!" and grew quite pale with
+surprise and disappointment: for a moment she thought it was Dick. As
+for Mrs. Challoner, who had a right to her nerves from years of
+injudicious spoiling and indulgence, and would not have been without
+her feelings for worlds, she just clasped her hands and murmured "Good
+heavens!" in the orthodox lady-like way.
+
+"Why, yes, Aunt Catherine, I am Harry; and I hope you have not
+forgotten the existence of the poor little beggar to whom you were so
+kind in the old Calcutta days." And his big voice softened
+involuntarily in the presence of this dignified aunt.
+
+"Oh, no, my dear!--no!" touched by his manner, and remembering the
+boyish scrawls that used to come to her, signed "Your affectionate
+nephew, Harry." "And are you indeed my nephew?--are you Harry?" And
+then she held out her slim hand, which he took awkwardly enough.
+"Girls, you must welcome your cousin. This is Nan, Harry, the one they
+always say is like me; and this is Phillis, our clever one; and this
+is my pet Dulce." And with each one did their cousin solemnly shake
+hands, but without a smile; indeed, his aspect became almost
+ludicrous, until he caught sight of his homely little acquaintance,
+Mattie, who stood an amused spectator of this family tableau, and his
+red, embarrassed face brightened a little.
+
+"Aunt Catherine was such an awfully grand creature, you know," as he
+observed to her afterwards, in a confidential aside: "her manners
+make a fellow feel nowhere. And as for my cousins, a prettier lot
+of girls I never saw anywhere; and of course, they are as jolly and
+up to larks as other girls; but just at first, you know, I had a
+bull-in-a-china-shop sort of feeling among them all."
+
+Mrs. Challoner, in spite of her fine manners, was far too nervous
+herself to notice her nephew's discomfort. She had to mention a name
+that was obnoxious to her, for of course she must ask after his
+father. She got him into a chair by her at length, where he stared
+into his hat to avoid the bright eyes that seemed to quiz him so
+unmercifully.
+
+"And how is Sir Francis?" she asked, uttering the name with languid
+interest.
+
+"My father! Oh, did you not know, Aunt Catherine?--he died out in
+Sydney a year ago. Poor old fellow! he had a terrible illness. There
+was no pulling him through it."
+
+Mrs. Challoner roused up at this:
+
+"Your father dead! Then, Harry, you have come to the title?"
+
+But her nephew burst into a boisterous laugh at this:
+
+"Yes,--a title and an old ruin. A precious heritage, is it not? Not
+that I care what people call me. The most important part is that
+another fellow--Dalton they call him--and I made a grand hit out in
+Sydney. When I saw the money flowing in, I just sent for the poor old
+governor to join me; and we did not have a bad time of it, until the
+gout took him off. And then I got sick of it all, and thought I would
+have a look at England and hunt up my relations."
+
+Sir Harry had blurted out this long speech as he still attentively
+regarded the lining of his hat; but, happening to look up, he caught
+Phillis's eyes, which were contemplating him. The mischievous look of
+fun in them was not to be resisted. Sir Harry first got redder, if
+possible; then his own eyes began to twinkle, and finally they both
+laughed. And after that the ice was broken, and they got on famously.
+
+The girls chattered to him like magpies. They made Mattie take off her
+hat and hideous old waterproof and stay to luncheon. Nan smoothed her
+hair, which was sadly ruffled, and Phillis settled her brooch and
+collar.
+
+There was only cold mutton in the larder; but what did that matter?
+Dulce ran out in the garden and picked dahlias for the table; and Nan
+took her mother's keys and drew from the recesses of a dim
+sweet-smelling press some dainty napkins and a fine old cloth that
+might have suited a princess. There was a bottle of rare Madeira that
+remained from their stock of wine; and Dorothy had made a batch of
+fresh dinner-rolls. Dorothy was always full of resources in an
+emergency.
+
+"Don't fash yourself, Miss Nan," she said, when her young mistress
+came into the kitchen. "The cold mutton can't be helped; but we have
+got angels in the larder, and I will just pop them into the oven."
+
+Sir Harry roared with laughter when Dorothy's speech was repeated to
+him. The little puddings were declared by Mattie to be delicious; but
+Sir Harry could scarcely eat his for laughing.
+
+"Who ever heard of baked angels, Aunt Catherine!" he exclaimed, after
+another explosion.
+
+"My dear, it is only a name," she returned, mildly. "Will you have
+another, Harry? And, Nan, you must pass your cousin the Madeira."
+
+They were all seated round the table in the small parlor. It was felt
+to be a triumph when Sir Harry contrived to seat himself without
+grazing himself seriously against the chiffonnier or knocking over a
+piece of the blue-and-gold china.
+
+"What a cosey little cabin of a place!" he said with critical
+approval; "but it is rather small to hold you all,--eh, Aunt
+Catherine?"
+
+"Yes: it is small after Glen Cottage," she sighed. "We had such a
+pretty drawing-room there."
+
+"And such a lovely garden!" added Dulce.
+
+"Oh, this crib in not fit for you? We will alter all that," he
+returned, complacently. "I am the head of the family now, and I must
+take my uncle's place. I am awfully rich, Aunt Catherine; so you have
+only got to tell me what you and the girls want, you know." And then
+he rubbed his hands as though he were pleased about something.
+
+But no one took any notice of this speech, hardly knowing how to treat
+it.
+
+When luncheon--which was, indeed, the family dinner--was over, the
+girls carried him off to the work-room, and showed him specimens of
+their skill.
+
+"Very nice; very well done," he observed, approvingly.
+
+"I am glad you showed such pluck; for why any woman should think it
+_infra dig._ to make a gown for another woman quite beats me. Why,
+bless you, in the colonies we fellows turned our hands to anything!
+Well, Aunt Catherine, they are plucky ones, these girls of yours. But
+we must put a stop to this sort of thing, you and I. I don't think my
+uncle would have liked it. And as I am in his place----" And here he
+thrust aside some amber satin with his great hands, with a movement
+full of suggestive possibilities.
+
+He took them all out to walk after that. Mrs. Challoner, indeed,
+begged to be excused,--the poor lady was already sadly fatigued, and
+longed for her nap,--but he would not dispense with Mattie's company.
+
+"We were acquaintances first," he said to her; "and I look upon you as
+a sort of cousin too, Miss Mattie." And poor little Mattie, who had
+never met with so much friendliness before, quite blushed and bridled
+with pleasure.
+
+Mr. Drummond, who was coming out of his own gate, stood as though
+transfixed as the procession came towards him. The four girls were
+walking all abreast, Mattie in the middle; and beside them stalked a
+huge man, in rough, rather outlandish attire, looking like a son of
+the Anakin, or a red-headed Goliath.
+
+Archie stood still in the middle of the road, and Mattie rushed up to
+him:
+
+"We are going for a walk. Oh, Archie, I wish you would come too! It
+would be such fun!"
+
+"Yes; do come!" cried unconscious Nan, seconding her out of pure good
+nature. "Mr. Drummond, this is our cousin, Sir Henry Challoner, who
+has just come from Australia; and we have never seen him before." And
+then the young clergyman shook hands with him very stiffly, and spoke
+a few conventional words.
+
+"They have not a man belonging to them," he had said to himself,
+triumphantly, and then that odious Dick had turned up and now this
+extraordinary-looking being who called himself Sir Henry Challoner.
+
+Archie took down the "Peerage" when he got home, for he could not be
+induced to join the merry party in their walk. He found the name there
+all right,--"Henry Fortescue Challoner, son of Sir Francis Challoner,
+son of Sir Henry Challoner," and so on. It was an old baronetcy,--one
+of the oldest in England,--but the estates had dwindled down to a
+half-ruined residence and a few fields. "Challoner Place," as it was
+called, was nothing but a heap of mouldering walls; but Mattie had
+whispered to him gleefully that he was "awfully rich, and the head of
+the family, and unmarried; and he did not mean to let his cousins make
+gowns anymore for other people, though they might do it for
+themselves."
+
+Mattie never forgot that walk. Never in her life had she enjoyed such
+fun. Archie, with his grave face and prim ways, would have spoiled the
+hilarity.
+
+First Sir Henry took his cousins to the hotel, where they heard him
+order his apartments and dinner: he evidently considered he had not
+dined; and there was a good deal of discussion about some game that he
+ordered, and a certain brand of champagne that was to his liking.
+
+"If they make me comfortable, I may stop on a goodish bit," he
+informed them, "until we have settled where my aunt would like to
+live. I shall run up to London every few days, and can do all your
+commissions. By the bye, I got some trinkets for you girls on my way
+down; we will haul them over when I come up for the cup of coffee Aunt
+Catherine promised me this evening."
+
+"Now, Harry, we don't want presents," remarked Phillis, taking him to
+task as easily as though she had known him all her life long.
+
+In spite of his bigness, his great burly figure and plain face, there
+was something very pleasant about him. He was rough and unpolished,
+his dress was careless and of colonial cut; and yet one could not fail
+to see he was a gentleman. His boyishness and fun would have delighted
+Dick, who was of the same calibre; only Dick was far cleverer, and had
+more in his little finger than this great lumbering Harry in his whole
+body.
+
+He was slow and clumsy, but his heart and intentions were excellent;
+he was full of tenderness for women, and showed a touching sort of
+chivalry in his intercourse with them. In some way, his manners were
+far finer than those of a New Bond Street gentleman; for he could not
+sneer at a woman, he believed in the goodness of the sex, in spite of
+much knowledge to the contrary, he could not tell a lie, and he only
+cheated himself. This was saying a good deal for the son of that very
+black sheep Sir Francis; but, as Sir Harry once simply observed, "his
+mother was a good woman:" if this were the case, her husband's vices
+must have shortened her life, for she died young.
+
+Phillis was glad when they turned their backs on the town: she found
+her cousin's long purse a difficulty: it seemed an impossibility to
+get him past the shops.
+
+First, he was sure Aunt Catherine was fond of champagne,--all ladies
+liked sweet sparkling things; but he would see about that at the hotel
+presently. Then his attention was attracted by some grouse hanging up
+at the poulterer's: Aunt Catherine must have some grouse, as he
+remembered the cold mutton. Phillis made no objection to the grouse,
+for she knew her mother's fondness for game; but she waxed indignant
+when partridges and a hare were added, and still more when Sir Harry
+ransacked the fruiterers for a supply of the rarest fruit the town
+could afford. After this, he turned his attention to cakes and
+bonbons; but here Dulce took his part, for she loved bonbons. Phillis
+caught Nan by the arm, and compelled her to leave them; but Mattie
+deserted her friends, and remained to watch the fun.
+
+Dulce grew frightened at last, and tried to coax her cousin away.
+
+"Oh, no more--no more?" she pleaded. "Phillis and Nan will be so angry
+with us."
+
+"I don't see anything more worth getting," returned her cousin,
+contemptuously. "What a place this is, to be sure! Never mind, Dulce;
+I am going up to London to-morrow, and I will bring you down as many
+bonbons as you like from the French place in Regent Street. I will
+bring Miss Mattie some too," he continued, as the girls hurried him
+along. "And, Dulce, just write out a list of what you girls want; and
+I will get them, as sure as my name is Harry."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+ALCIDES.
+
+
+There was quite a battle-royal on the sea-shore after that: Dulce and
+Phillis pelted Laddie with bonbons; while their mother enjoyed her nap
+in the snug parlor. And Dorothy, pleased, bewildered, and half
+frightened at what the mistress might say, stowed away game and fruit
+and confectionery in the tiny larder, and then turned her attention to
+such a tea as her young ladies had not seen since the Glen Cottage
+days.
+
+Laddie raced and barked, and nearly made himself ill with the sweet
+things; and Nan laughed, and then grew serious as she remembered an
+afternoon in the Longmead Meadows, when Dick, in wild spirits, had
+pelted her and Phillis with roses until their laps were full of the
+delicious, fragrant leaves. "'Sweets to the sweet,'--so look out for
+yourself, Nan!" he had said, in his half-rough, boyish way. But that
+was in the days when both were very young and Dick had not learned to
+make love.
+
+Mattie joined in the game a little awkwardly,--it was so long since
+the poor little woman had played at anything. Her younger sisters
+never chose Mattie in their games. "She makes such mistakes, and puts
+us out; and that spoils the fun," they said; and so Grace was their
+favorite playfellow.
+
+For it is perfectly true that some grown-up people have forgotten how
+to play, while others are such children at heart that they can abandon
+themselves most joyously and gracefully to any game, however romping;
+but Mattie, who was sobered by frequent snubbing, was not one of
+these. She loved fun still, in her way, but not as Phillis and Dulce,
+who thought it the cream of life and would not be content with the
+sort of skimmed-milk existence of other young ladies.
+
+Sir Harry watched them admiringly, and his enthusiasm grew every
+moment.
+
+"I say, you are the right sort, and no mistake. I never met jollier
+girls in my life. A fellow would not know which to choose: would he,
+Miss Mattie?"
+
+Mattie took this seriously.
+
+"Nan is chosen:--are you not, Nan?" she said, in her downright
+fashion. And then, as Sir Harry stared at this, and Nan blushed and
+looked even prettier, Phillis first scolded Mattie soundly for her
+bluntness, and then took upon herself to describe Dick's perfections:
+
+"The dearest fellow in the world, Harry, when you come to know him;
+but not handsome, and dreadfully young looking, some people think.
+But, as Nan will not look at any one else, we must make the best of
+him."
+
+"And when are they to be married?" asked her cousin, curiously. He was
+not quite pleased with this discovery.
+
+"When?--Oh, Harry, there is an 'if' in the case," returned Phillis,
+solemnly. "The dearest fellow in the world has an ogre of a father,--a
+man so benighted, so narrow in his prejudices, that he thinks it
+decidedly _infra dig._ for his intended daughter in-law to sew other
+people's gowns. I do love that expression. Harry: it is so forcible.
+So he forbids the banns."
+
+"No, really!--Is she serious, Nan?" But Nan grew shy all at once, and
+would not answer.
+
+"I am serious, Sir Henry Challoner," replied Phillis, pompously. "The
+path of true love is impeded. Poor Dick is pining in his rooms at
+Oxford; and Nan--well, I am afraid her looks belie her; only you know
+appearances are sometimes deceitful." And indeed Nan's pink cheeks and
+air of placid contentment scarcely bore out her sister's words.
+
+The newly found cousin sat in silent perplexity staring at them both.
+Love-affairs were not much in his way; and until now he had never been
+thrown much with his equals in the other sex. His rough colonial life,
+full of excitement and money-getting, had engrossed his youth. He was
+now a man of thirty; but in disposition, in simplicity, and in a
+certain guilelessness of speech, he seemed hardly more than an
+overgrown boy.
+
+"Well, now, is it not like a book?" he said, at last, breaking the
+silence quite abruptly. "It must be an awful bother for you, Nan; but
+we must put a stop to all that. I am the head of the family; and I
+shall have a word to say to that Mr.--what is his name?"
+
+"Mr. Mayne," returned Nan, softly.
+
+It was at this moment that the name of Hercules came into Phillis's
+head for her cousin. What feats of strength did he mean to undertake
+on their behalf? Would he strangle the hydra-headed monster of public
+opinion that pronounced "women who sewed other women's gowns" were
+not to be received into society? Would he help Nan gather the golden
+apples of satisfied love and ambition? What was it that he meant to do
+by dint of sheer force and good nature?
+
+Harry Challoner did not long leave them in ignorance of his
+intentions. In the coolest possible way he at once assumed the
+headship of the family,--adopting them at once, and giving them the
+benefit of his opinions on every point that could possibly be mooted.
+
+"I had not a soul belonging to me until now," he said, looking around
+on his cousins' bright faces with a glow of honest satisfaction on his
+own. "It made a fellow feel precious lonely out there, I can tell
+you."
+
+"You ought to have married, Harry," suggested Dulce.
+
+"I never thought any one would care for such a great hulking fellow,"
+he returned, simply; "and then the girls over there were not to my
+taste. Besides, I never thought of it; I was too busy. I am going to
+take a holiday now, and look about me a little; and when you and Aunt
+Catherine are settled, I may have a try myself at some one," he
+finished, with a big laugh.
+
+This notion amused the girls immensely, then and afterwards. They
+began to talk of the future Lady Challoner. Nan proposed one of the
+Paines. Phillis thought if Grace Drummond were only as sweet-looking
+as her photograph he could hardly help falling in love with her. And
+Dulce was of opinion that Adelaide Sartoris, handsome and queenly as
+she was, would not consider a baronet beneath her. They confided all
+these thoughts to Sir Harry, who thanked them quite gravely for their
+interest and promised to consider the matter. He even wrote down the
+names in his pocket-book one after another.
+
+"Adelaide Sartoris, did you say? Ah, we had an Adelaide at Sydney, a
+little, dark thing, with hair blown all over her temples, and such a
+pair of mischievous eyes: that girl was always laughing at me,
+somehow. And yet she seemed sorry to bid me good-bye."
+
+"Perhaps she was in love with you?" observed Dulce. But Phillis
+frowned at this. She thought they had gone too far in their jokes
+already with a cousin who was such a complete stranger. But he
+returned, quite gravely,--
+
+"Well, now, you know, such a thing never came into my head. I talked
+to her because a fellow likes to be amused by a lively girl like Miss
+Addie. But as to thinking seriously of her--well, I could not stand
+that, you know to be laughed at all one's life; eh, Miss Mattie?" And
+Mattie, at this appeal, looked up with round, innocent eyes, and said,
+"Certainly not," in such an impressive tone that the other girls burst
+out laughing.
+
+They all went home after that. Sir Harry escorted his cousins and
+Mattie to the Friary, and then returned to his hotel to dinner. But
+the girls, who were in a merry mood, would not part with Mattie. They
+sent her home to put on her green silk dress, with strict orders that
+she was to return as soon as possible.
+
+"We are all going to make ourselves pretty," announced Phillis. "A
+cousin does not turn up every day; and when he promises to be a good
+fellow, like Harry, we cannot do him too much honor."
+
+"Ah, I should like to come," returned Mattie. "I have had such a nice
+day; and, if Archie will not mind----" And then she bustled into the
+vicarage, and into her brother's study.
+
+Archie roused himself a little wearily from his abstraction to listen
+to his sister's story; but at the end of it he said good-naturedly,
+for he had taught himself to be tolerant of Mattie's little
+gaucheries,--
+
+"And the long and short of it is that you want to be gadding again.
+Well, run and get ready, or you will keep their tea waiting; and do
+put on your collar straight, Mattie." But this slight thrust was lost
+on Mattie as she delightedly withdrew. Archie sighed as he tried to
+compose himself to his reading. He had not been asked to join Mattie.
+For the last few weeks he had become a stranger to the cottage. Did
+they notice his absence? he wondered. Did they miss the visits that
+had once been so frequent? By and by he would resume his old habits of
+intimacy, and go among them as he had done; but just now the effort
+was too painful. He dreaded the unspoken sympathy in Phillis's eyes.
+He dreaded anything like an understanding between them. Nan's perfect
+unconsciousness was helpful to him; but there was something in
+Phillis's manner that stirred up an old pain. For the present he was
+safer and happier alone in his study, though Mattie did not think so,
+and told her friends that Archie looked terribly dull.
+
+Mrs. Challoner proposed sending for him; but Phillis, greatly to her
+mother's surprise, negatived the proposition:
+
+"Oh, no, mother; pray do not! Mattie, you must excuse me. I do not
+mean to be rude, but we should all have to be so dreadfully
+well-behaved if Mr. Drummond came, and I just feel myself in a
+'nonsense mood,' as Dulce used to say when she was a baby." And then
+they all forgot Archie, and fell to discussing the new cousin.
+
+"He is dreadfully ugly, mammie, is he not?" observed Dulce, who had a
+horror of red hair. But Mrs. Challoner demurred:
+
+"Well, no, pet; I cannot agree with you. He is very plain, but so is
+Dick; but it struck me they were both rather alike." An indignant "How
+can you, mother!" from Nan. "Well, my dear," she continued, placidly,
+"I do not mean really alike, for they have not a feature in common;
+but they have both got the same honest, open look, only Dick's face is
+more intelligent." But this hardly appeased Nan, who was heard to say
+under her breath "that she thought Dick had the nicest face in the
+world."
+
+"And Sir Harry has a nice face too: has he not, Mrs. Challoner?"
+exclaimed Mattie, who never could be silent in a discussion. "It takes
+time to get used to such very red hair; and, of course, he is
+dreadfully big,--almost too big, I should say. But when he talks he
+has such a good-natured way with him; now, hasn't he?" appealing to
+Nan, who looked just a little glum,--that is, glum for Nan, for she
+could not do the sulks properly; she could only look dignified.
+
+Mrs. Challoner grew a little alarmed at her daughter's demure face:
+"Nan, darling, you know I am as fond of Dick as possible; but I cannot
+help being pleased with my new nephew, can I? And I must say I think
+Harry is very nice, in spite of his roughness." But here Phillis, who
+had been unaccountably silent, suddenly struck in:
+
+"Mother, it was a mistake mentioning Dick: the name is sacred. Nan, if
+it will please you we will declare that he is beautiful as a young
+Apollo."
+
+"Don't be a goose, Phil!" from her sister. But Nan was smiling.
+
+"As for Harry, he is a perfect hero. I expect great things from the
+great man. To my imagination he is a perfect Hercules,--Heracles, son
+of Zeus and Alcmene. I wonder if Harry could tell us the name of
+Hercules's mother?"
+
+"Of course not, and no one else either," retorted Dulce.
+
+But Phillis did not heed this.
+
+"To me he shall be the young Alcides. He has promised to fight the
+Nemaean lion, in the shape of Richard Mayne the elder. By and by we
+shall have him striking off the heads of the Lernean Hydra. You look
+mystified, Nan. And I perceive Mattie has a perplexed countenance. I
+am afraid you are deficient in heathen mythology; but I will spare
+your ignorance. You will see, though, I am right----"
+
+"But, Phillis----" broke in Dulce, eagerly. But Phillis waved her hand
+majestically at the interruption:
+
+"Mother, to be serious, I consider Harry in the light of a
+providential interposition. You are always mourning that there is not
+a man belonging to us. Well, now we have got one, large as life, and
+larger, and a very good fellow, as you say; and we are no longer
+'forlorn females.'"
+
+"And indeed, Phillis, I am most thankful for that, my dear; for if
+Harry be only as good as a brother to you----"
+
+"He means to be more," returned Phillis, with a sage nod of her head.
+"He talks in the coolest way, as though he had adopted the whole
+family and meant to put a spoke into the domestic wheel. 'I must put a
+stop to this,' or, 'That must be altered,' has been a frequent remark
+of his. Mother, if he is dreadfully rich, as he says, does he mean to
+make us rich too?"
+
+"My dear, we have no claim on him."
+
+"He thinks we have the strongest possible claim: does he not, Nan? You
+should have heard him talk this afternoon! According to him, we were
+never to sew gowns again; Nan and Dick were to be immediately united;
+the Friary was to be pulled down, and a glorified Glen Cottage to be
+erected in its stead. But mother,"--here Phillis's lip grew
+plaintive,--"you won't desert your own girls, and be talked over even
+by an Alcides? We do not mean to have our little deeds all put on the
+shelf in that off-hand fashion. I shall sew gowns as long as I like,
+in spite of a hundred Sir Harrys."
+
+And then they perceived that under Phillis's fun there was a vein of
+serious humor, and that, in spite of her admiration of her hero, she
+was a little afraid that her notions of independence would be
+wounded.
+
+They became divided on the question. Mrs. Challoner, who had never had
+a son of her own, and did not much like the idea of a son-in-law, was
+disposed to regard her nephew warmly, and to accord to him at once his
+privilege of being head of the family.
+
+"In this case, a cousin is as good as a brother," she averred; and Nan
+rather leaned to her opinion.
+
+"You see," she said, in her practical way, addressing no one in
+particular, but looking at Phillis, "it has been terribly against us,
+having no one belonging to us of the same name; and it will really
+give us a standing with some sort of people."
+
+"Fie, Nan! what a worldly speech! You are thinking of that tiresome
+Mayne _pere_ again."
+
+"I have to think of him," returned Nan, not at all put out by this.
+"Dick's father must be a person of great importance to me. He has
+often hinted in my hearing that we have no relations, and that the
+Challoner name will die out. I expect he will be rather taken aback at
+Harry's appearance."
+
+"Yes; and Dick will be jealous: he always is of other fellows, as he
+calls them. You must score that up against Dick, please. Well, I won't
+deny that Harry may make himself useful there: all I protest against
+is the idea that he will bundle us out of this dear old Friary, and
+make us grand, in spite of ourselves."
+
+"Dear old Friary!--Oh, oh!" gasped Dulce; and even Nan looked mildly
+surprised.
+
+"He will not make me give up my work until I choose," continued
+Phillis, who was in an obstinate mood. "It is not make-believe
+play-work, I can tell him that;" but Mrs. Challoner grew tearful at
+this.
+
+"Phillis, my dear, pray hush! Indeed--indeed I cannot have you talking
+as though you meant and wished to be a dressmaker all your life."
+
+And when Phillis asked, "Why not?" just for the sake of argument,--for
+in her heart she was growing heartily sick of her employment,--her
+mother threw up her hands in despair:
+
+"Oh, my dear Miss Drummond, do not believe her: Phillis is a good
+girl; but she is always like that,--hard to be convinced. She does not
+really mean it. She has worked harder than any of them; but she has
+only done it for her mother's sake."
+
+"Of course she does not mean it," echoed Nan, affectionately, and much
+struck by a sudden yearning look on Phillis's face,--an expression of
+smothered pain; but Phillis drew away from her sister's gentle grasp.
+
+"I do mean it!" she said, almost passionately. "I am dreadfully tired
+of the work sometimes, and hate it. Oh, how I hate it! But I think I
+have been happy, too. I liked the excitement of the fighting, and the
+novelty of the thing; it was such fun,--first shocking people, and
+then winning them over in spite of themselves. One felt 'plucky,' as
+Harry said. And then one's friends were so real." And her eyes fell
+unconsciously on Mattie.
+
+"Oh, yes," returned Mattie, with her usual gush: "Archie and I took to
+you from the first. I must say I was surprised, knowing how fastidious
+Archie was, and his notions about young ladies in general. But, dear,
+he never would hear a word against you: he was even angry with Colonel
+Middleton the other day because--but there! I ought not to have told
+you that."
+
+"Oh, we know all about it," returned Phillis, carelessly; but Dulce's
+bright face looked a little overcast. "Son Hammond is in the case; and
+we can all judge of a father's feelings by a certain example that
+shall be nameless. Good gracious, mammie! there comes the Alcides
+himself, and Dorothy has not cleared the tea-things! I vote we meet
+him in the garden, to avert breakages." And Phillis's proposition was
+carried out.
+
+But when they were all seated in the little parlor again, and the lamp
+was brought, sundry packages made their appearence, and were
+delightedly unpacked by the girls, Phillis assisting with great
+interest, in spite of her heroic speeches.
+
+"One can accept gifts from a cousin," she said, afterwards.
+
+Sir Harry had shown good taste in his purchases. The ornaments and
+knick-knacks were all pretty and well chosen. The good-natured fellow
+had ransacked the shops in Paris for such things as he thought would
+please his unknown cousins. The bracelets, and fans, and gloves, and
+laces, made Dulce almost dance with glee. The lace was for Aunt
+Catherine, he said; and there were gloves for everybody,--dozens and
+dozens of them. But the fans and bracelets were for the girls; and
+to-morrow he would get the bonbons for Dulce. And then, as the girls
+laughingly apportioned the spoil, he whispered something to Nan, at
+which she nodded and smiled.
+
+Mattie, who was carefully admiring the lace in her short-sighted way,
+felt something touch her elbow, and found Nan pushing a fan and a
+parcel of gloves towards her,--beautiful gloves, such as Isabel had in
+her trousseau.
+
+"Yes; take them; we have so many; and, indeed, we have no use for more
+than a fan apiece. Oh, you extravagant Harry!"
+
+Sir Harry laughed as he balanced the fan clumsily on his huge finger:
+
+"Take it; you are very welcome, Miss Mattie. You know we are quite old
+acquaintances; and, indeed, I look on you as a sort of cousin."
+
+"Oh, dear!--thank you; you are very good, Sir Harry," cried poor
+Mattie, blushing with pleasure.
+
+Never had she spent such a day in her life,--a day wherein she had not
+been once snubbed, except in that remark of Archie's about her collar,
+and that did not matter.
+
+"Poor little woman, she looks very happy!" observed Mrs. Challoner,
+benevolently, as Mattie gathered up her spoils and went out of the
+room, accompanied by Dulce. "She is such a good little soul, and so
+amiable, that it is a pity Mr. Drummond is always finding fault with
+her. It spoils him, somehow; and I am sure she bears it very well."
+She spoke to Nan, for her nephew seemed engrossed with tying up
+Laddie's front paw with his handkerchief.
+
+"I am afraid, from what she says, that they all snub her at home,"
+returned Nan. "It seems Grace is the favorite; but you know, mother,
+Mattie is just a little tiresome and awkward at times."
+
+"Yes; but she is very much improved. And I must say her temper is of
+the sweetest; for she never bears her brother any malice." But at that
+moment Mattie re-entered the room: and Sir Harry, releasing Laddie,
+proceeded, as in duty bound, to escort her to the vicarage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+SIR HARRY BIDES HIS TIME.
+
+
+Phillis might have spared herself that little outburst to which she
+had given vent on the day of her cousin's arrival. For, in spite of
+the lordly way in which he had claimed his prerogative as the only
+male Challoner, Sir Harry took no further steps to interfere with her
+liberty: indeed, as the days and even the weeks passed away, and
+nothing particular happened in them, she was even a little
+disappointed.
+
+For it is one thing to foster heroic intentions, but quite another
+when one has no choice in the matter. The heroism seemed lost,
+somehow, when no one took the trouble to combat her resolution.
+Phillis began to tire of her work,--nay, more, to feel positive
+disgust at it. The merry evenings gave her a distaste for her morning
+labors, and the daylight seemed sometimes as though it would never
+fade into dark, so as to give her an excuse for folding up her work.
+
+These fits of impatience were intermittent, and she spoke of them to
+no one: in other respects the new cousin brought a great deal of
+brightness and pleasure into their daily life.
+
+They all grew very fond of him. Mrs. Challoner, indeed, was soon heard
+to say that she almost loved him like a son,--a speech that reached
+Dick's ears by and by and made him excessively angry. "I should like
+to kick that fellow," he growled, as he read the words. But then Dick
+never liked interlopers. He had conceived a hatred of Mr. Drummond on
+the spot. Sir Harry took up his quarters at the same hotel where Dick
+and his father had spent that one dreary evening. He gave lavish
+orders and excited a great deal of attention and talk by his careless
+munificence. Without being positively extravagant he had a free-handed
+way of spending his money: as he often said, "he liked to see things
+comfortable about him." And, as his notions of comfort were somewhat
+expensive, his host soon conceived a great respect for him,--all the
+more that he gave himself no airs, never talked about his wealth
+except to his cousins, and treated his title as though it were not of
+the slightest consequence to himself or any one else; indeed, he was
+decidedly modest in all matters pertaining to himself.
+
+But, being a generous soul, he loved to give. Every few days he went
+up to London, and he never returned without bringing gifts to the
+Friary. Dulce, who was from the first his chief favorite, revelled in
+French bonbons; hampers of wine, of choice game, or fruit from Covent
+Garden, filled the tiny larder to overflowing. Silks and ribbons, and
+odds and ends of female finery, were sent down from Marshall &
+Snelgrove's, or Swan & Edgar's. In vain Mrs. Challoner implored him
+not to spoil the girls, who had never had so many pretty things in
+their lives, and hardly knew what to do with them. Sir Harry would not
+deny himself this pleasure; and he came up evening after evening,
+overflowing with health and spirits, to join the family circle in the
+small parlor and enliven them with his stories of colonial life.
+
+People began to talk about him. He was too big and too prominent a
+figure to pass unnoticed in Hadleigh. The Challoners and their odd
+ways, and their cousin the baronet who was a millionaire and
+unmarried, were canvassed in many a drawing-room. "We always knew they
+were not just 'nobodies,'" as one young lady observed; and another
+remarked, a little scornfully, "that she supposed Sir Henry Challoner
+would put a stop to all that ridiculous dressmaking now." But when
+they found that Nan and Phillis went about as usual, taking orders
+and fitting on dresses, their astonishment knew no bounds.
+
+Sir Harry watched them with a secret chuckle. "He must put a stop to
+all that presently," he said; but just at first it amused him to see
+it all. "It was so pretty and plucky of them," he thought.
+
+He would saunter into the work-room in the morning, and watch them for
+an hour together as he sat and talked to them. After the first they
+never minded him, and his presence made no difference to them. Nan
+measured and cut out, and consulted Phillis in her difficulties, as
+usual. Dulce sang over her sewing-machine, and Phillis went from one
+to the other with a grave, intent face. Sometimes she would speak
+petulantly to him, and bid him not whistle or tease Laddie: but that
+was when one of her fits of impatience was on her. She was generally
+gracious to him, and made him welcome.
+
+When he was tired of sitting quiet, he would take refuge with Aunt
+Catherine in her little parlor, or go into the vicarage for a chat
+with Mattie and her brother: he was becoming very intimate there.
+Sometimes, but not often, he would call at the White House; but,
+though the Cheynes liked him, and Magdalene was amused at his
+simplicity, there was not much in common between them.
+
+He had taken a liking to Colonel Middleton and his daughter, and would
+have found his way to Brooklyn over and over again, only the colonel
+gave him no encouragement. They had met accidentally in the grounds of
+the White House, and Mr. Cheyne had introduced them to each other; but
+the colonel bore himself very stiffly on that occasion and ever after
+when they met on the Parade and in the reading-room. In his heart he
+was secretly attracted by Sir Harry's blunt ways and honest face; but
+he was a cousin of those Challoners, and intimacy was not to be
+desired: so their intercourse was limited to a brief word or two.
+
+"Your father does not want to know me," he said once, in his outspoken
+way, to Miss Middleton, when they met at the very gate of Brooklyn,
+and she had asked him, with some little hesitation, if he were coming
+in. "It is a pity," he added, regretfully, "for I have taken a fancy
+to him: he seems a downright good sort, and we agree in politics."
+
+Elizabeth blushed; for once her courtesy and love of truth were sadly
+at variance.
+
+"He does like you very much, Sir Harry," she said; and then she
+hesitated.
+
+"Only my cousins sew gowns," he returned, with a twinkle of amusement
+in his eyes, "so he must not encourage me,--eh, Miss Middleton?--as we
+are all in the same boat. Well, we must allow for prejudice. By and by
+we will alter all that." And then he gave her a good-natured nod, and
+sauntered away to tell his old friend Mattie all about it; for he had
+a kindly feeling towards the little woman, and made her his
+confidante on these occasions.
+
+Phillis still called him Alcides, to his endless mystification: but
+she privately wondered when his labors were to begin. After that first
+afternoon he did not speak much of his future intentions: indeed, he
+was a little reserved with the girls, considering their intimacy; but
+to his aunt he was less reticent.
+
+"Do you know, Aunt Catherine," he said one day to her, "that that old
+house of yours--Glen Cottage, is it not?--will soon be in the market?
+Ibbetson wants to get off the remainder of the lease."
+
+Mrs. Challoner leaned back in her chair and put down her knitting:
+
+"Are you sure, Harry? Then Adelaide was right: she told me in her last
+letter that Mrs. Ibbetson's health was so bad that they thought of
+wintering at Hyeres, and that there was some talk of giving up the
+house."
+
+"Oh, yes, it is true," he returned, carelessly; "Ibbetson told me so
+himself. It is a pretty little place enough, and they have done a good
+deal to it, even in a few months: they want to get off the lease, and
+rid themselves of the furniture, which seems to be all new. It appears
+they have had some money left to them unexpectedly; and now Mrs.
+Ibbetson's health is so bad, he wants to try travelling, and thinks it
+a great pity to be hampered with a house at present. I should say the
+poor little woman is in a bad way, myself."
+
+"Dear me, how sad! And they have been married so short a time,--not
+more than six months. She comes of a weakly stock, I fear. I always
+said she looked consumptive, poor thing! Dear little Glen Cottage! and
+to think it will change hands so soon again!"
+
+"You seem fond of it, Aunt Catherine," for her tone was full of
+regret.
+
+"My dear," she answered, seriously, "I always loved that cottage so!
+The drawing-room and the garden were just to my taste; and then the
+girls were so happy there."
+
+"Would you not like a grander house to live in?" he asked, in the same
+indifferent tone. "I do not think it is half good enough for you and
+the girls."
+
+Mrs. Challoner opened her eyes rather widely at this: but his voice
+gave her no clue to his real meaning, and she thought it was just his
+joking way with her.
+
+"It would seem a palace after this!" she returned, with a sigh.
+"Somehow, I never cared for great big houses, they are so much expense
+to keep up; and when one has not a man in the house----"
+
+"Why, you have me, Aunt Catherine!" speaking up rather briskly.
+
+"Yes, my dear; and you are a great comfort to us all. It is so nice to
+have some one to consult; and, though I would not say so to Nan for
+the world, Dick is so young that I never could consult him."
+
+"By the bye, that reminds me I must have a look at that young fellow,"
+returned her nephew. "Let me see, the Oxford term is over, and he will
+be home again. Suppose I run over to Oldfield--it is no distance from
+town--and leave my card on Mr. Mayne senior?"
+
+"You, Harry!" And Mrs. Challoner looked quite taken aback at the
+proposition.
+
+"Well," he remarked, candidly, "I think it is about time something was
+done: Nan looks awfully serious sometimes. What is the good of being
+the head of one's family, if one is not to settle an affair like that?
+I don't feel inclined to put up with any more nonsense in that
+quarter, I can tell you that, Aunt Catherine."
+
+"But, Harry,"--growing visibly alarmed,--"you do not know Mr. Mayne:
+he can make himself so excessively disagreeable."
+
+"So can most men when they like."
+
+"Yes; but not exactly in that way. I believe he is really very fond of
+Dick; but he wants to order his life in his own way, and no young man
+will stand that."
+
+"No, by Jove! that is rather too strong for a fellow. I should say
+Master Dick could not put up with that."
+
+"It seems my poor Nan is not good enough for his son, just because she
+had no money and has been obliged to make herself useful. Does it not
+seem hard, Harry?--my beautiful Nan! And the Maynes are just nobodies:
+why, Mr. Mayne's father was only a shopkeeper in a very small way, and
+his wife's family was no better!"
+
+"Well, you must not expect me to understand all that," replied her
+nephew, in a puzzled tone. "In the colonies, we did not think much
+about that sort of thing: it would not have done there to inquire too
+narrowly into a man's antecedents. I knew capital fellows whose
+fathers had been butchers, and bakers, and candlestick-makers; and,
+bless me! what does it matter if the fellow is all right himself?" he
+finished; for the last Challoner was a decided Radical.
+
+But Mrs. Challoner, who was mildly obstinate in such matters, would
+not yield her point:
+
+"You would think differently if you had been educated at Eton. In
+England, it is necessary to discriminate among one's acquaintances. I
+find no fault with Dick: he is as nice and gentlemanly as possible;
+but his father has not got his good-breeding; possibly he had not his
+advantages. But it is they--the Maynes--who would be honored by an
+alliance with one of my daughters." And Mrs. Challoner raised her head
+and drew herself up with such queenly dignity that Sir Harry dared not
+argue the point.
+
+"Oh, yes; I see," he returned, hastily. "Well, I shall let him know
+what you think. You need not be afraid I shall lower your dignity,
+Aunt Catherine. I meant to be rather high and mighty myself,--that is,
+if I could manage it." And he broke into one of his huge laughs.
+
+Mrs. Challoner was very fond of her nephew; but she was not a clever
+woman, and she did not always understand his hints. When they were
+alone together, he was perpetually making this sort of remarks to her
+in a half-serious, half-joking way, eliciting her opinions, consulting
+her tastes, with a view to his future plans.
+
+With the girls he was provokingly reticent. Phillis and Dulce used to
+catechise him sometimes; but his replies were always evasive.
+
+"Do you know, Harry," Phillis said to him once, very gravely, "I think
+you are leading a dreadfully idle life? You do nothing absolutely all
+day but walk to and fro between the hotel and the Friary."
+
+"Come, now," retorted her cousin, in an injured tone, "I call that
+confoundedly hard on a fellow who has come all these thousands of
+miles just to cultivate his relations and enjoy a little relaxation.
+Have I not worked hard enough all my life to earn a holiday now?"
+
+"Oh, yes," she returned, provokingly, "we all know how hard you have
+worked; but all the same it does not do to play at idleness too long.
+You are very much improved, Harry. Your tailor has done wonders for
+you; and I should not be ashamed to walk down Bond Street with you any
+afternoon, though the people do stare, because you are so big. But
+don't you think it is time to settle down? You might take rooms
+somewhere. Lord Fitzroy knows of some capital ones in Sackville
+Street; Algie Burgoyne had them."
+
+"Well, no, thank you, Phillis: I don't think I shall go in for
+rooms."
+
+"Well, then, a house: you know you are so excessively rich, Harry,"
+drawling out her words in imitation of his rather slow pronunciation.
+
+"Oh, of course I shall take a house; but there is plenty of time for
+that."
+
+And when she pressed him somewhat eagerly to tell her in what
+neighborhood he meant to live, he only shrugged his shoulders, and
+remarked, carelessly, that he would have a look round at all sorts of
+places by and by.
+
+"But do you mean to take a house and live all alone?" asked Dulce.
+"Won't you find it rather dull?"
+
+"What's a fellow to do?" replied her cousin, enigmatically. "I suppose
+Aunt Catherine will not undertake the care of me?--I am too big, as
+you call it, for a houseful of women!"
+
+"Well, yes; perhaps you are," she replied, contemplating him
+thoughtfully. "We should not know quite what to do with you."
+
+"I wish I could get rid of a few of my superfluous inches," he
+remarked, dolorously; "for people seem to find me sadly in the way
+sometimes."
+
+But Dulce said, kindly,--
+
+"Oh, no, Harry; we never find you in the way: do we, mammie? We should
+be dreadfully dull without you now. I can hear you whistling a quarter
+of a mile off, and it sounds so cheerful. If there were only a house
+big enough for you next door, that would do nicely."
+
+"Oh. I dare say I shall not be far off: shall I, Aunt Catherine?" for,
+to his aunt's utter bewilderment, he had established a sort of
+confidence between them, and expected her to understand all his vague
+hints. "You will not speak about this to the girls; this is just
+between you and me," he would say to her, when sometimes she had not a
+notion what he meant.
+
+"I don't understand you, Harry," she said, once. "Why did you stop me
+just now when I was going to tell Phillis about the Ibbetsons leaving
+Glen Cottage? She would have been so interested."
+
+"You must keep that to yourself a little while, Aunt Catherine: it
+will be such a surprise to the girls, you know. Did I tell you about
+the new conservatory Ibbetson has built? It leads out of the
+drawing-room, and improves the room wonderfully, they say."
+
+"My dear Harry! what an expense! That is just what Mr. Mayne was
+always wanting us to do; and Nan was so fond of flowers. It was just
+what the room needed to make it perfect." And Mrs. Challoner folded
+her hands, with a sigh at the remembrance of the house she had loved
+so dearly.
+
+"They say Gilsbank is for sale," remarked her nephew, rather suddenly,
+after this.
+
+"What! Gilsbank, where old Admiral Hawkins lived? Nan saw the
+announcement of his death the other day, and she said then the place
+would soon be put up for sale. Poor old man! He was a martyr to
+gout."
+
+"I had a look at it the other day," he replied, coolly. "Why, it is
+not a hundred yards from your old cottage. There is a tidy bit of
+land, and the house is not so bad, only it wants doing up; but the
+furniture--that is for sale too--is very old-fashioned and shabby."
+
+"Are you thinking of it for yourself?" asked his aunt, in surprise.
+"Why, Gilsbank is a large place; it would never do for a single man.
+You would find the rooms Phillis proposed far handier."
+
+"Why, Aunt Catherine!" in a tone of strong remonstrance. "You don't
+mean to condemn me to a life of single blessedness because of my
+size?"
+
+"Oh, Harry, of course not! My dear boy, what an idea!"
+
+"And some one may be found in time who could put up even with red
+hair."
+
+"Oh, yes; that need not be an obstacle." But she looked at him with
+vague alarm. Of whom could he be thinking?
+
+He caught her expression, and threw back his head with one of his
+merry laughs:
+
+"Oh, no, Aunt Catherine; you need not be afraid. I am not going to
+make love to one of my cousins; I know your views on the subject, and
+that would not suit my book at all. I am quite on your side there."
+
+"Surely you will tell me, my dear, if you are serious?"
+
+"Oh, yes, when I have anything to tell; but I think I will have a good
+look round first." And then, of his own accord, he changed the
+subject. He was a little sparing of his hints after that, even to his
+aunt.
+
+It was shortly after this that he came into the Friary one evening and
+electrified his cousins by two pieces of news. He had just called at
+the vicarage, he said; but he had not gone in, for Miss Mattie had run
+downstairs in a great bustle to tell him her sister Grace had just
+arrived. Her brother had been down to Leeds and brought her up with
+him. Phillis put down her work; her face had become suddenly rather
+pale.
+
+"Grace has come," she half whispered to herself. And then she added
+aloud, "Poor Mattie will be glad, and sorry too! She will like to have
+her sister with her for the New Year; but in a few weeks she will have
+to pack up her own things and go home. And she was only saying the
+other day that she has never been so happy in her life as she has been
+here."
+
+"Why can't she stay, then?" asked Sir Harry, rather abruptly. "I don't
+hold with people making themselves miserable for nothing: that does
+not belong to my creed."
+
+"Oh, poor Mattie has not a choice in the matter," returned Nan, who
+had grown very fond of her little neighbor. "Though she is thirty, she
+must still do as other people bid her. They cannot both be spared from
+home,--at least, I believe not,--and so her mother has recalled her."
+
+"Oh, but that is nonsense!" replied Sir Harry, rather crossly for him.
+"Girls are spared well enough when they are married. And I thought the
+Drummonds were not well off. Did not Phillis tell me so?"
+
+"They are very badly off; but then, you see, Mr. Drummond does not
+want two sisters to take care of his house; and, though he tries to be
+good to Mattie, he is not so fond of her as he is of his sister Grace;
+and they have always planned to live together, and so poor Mattie has
+to go."
+
+"Yes, and I must say I am sorry for the poor little woman," observed
+Mrs. Challoner. "There is a large family of girls and boys,--I think
+Mr. Drummond told us he had seven sisters,--and Mattie seems left out
+in the cold among them all: they laugh at her oddities, and quiz her
+most unmercifully; even Mr. Drummond does, and Nan scolds him for it;
+but he has not been so bad lately. It is rather hard that none of
+them seem to want her."
+
+"You forget Grace is very good to her, mother," broke in Phillis,
+somewhat eagerly. "Mattie always says so."
+
+"By the by, I must have a look at this paragon. Is not her name among
+those in my pocket-book?" returned her cousin, wickedly. "I saw Miss
+Sartoris at Oldfield that day, and she was too grand for my taste.
+Why, a fellow would never dare to speak to her. I have scored that one
+off the list, Phillis."
+
+"My dears, what have you been saying to Harry?"
+
+"Oh, nothing, mammie," returned Dulce, hastily, fearing her mother
+would be shocked. "Phillis was only in her nonsense-mood; but Harry is
+such a goose, and will take things seriously. I wish you would let me
+have your pocket-book a moment, and I would tear out the page." But
+Sir Harry returned it safely to his pocket.
+
+"What was your other piece of news?" asked Nan, in her quiet voice,
+when all this chatter had subsided.
+
+"Oh, I had almost forgotten it myself! only Miss Middleton charged me
+to tell you that 'son Hammond' has arrived by the P. and O. Steamer
+the 'Cerberus,' and that she and her father were just starting for
+Southampton to meet him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+"COME, NOW, I CALL THAT HARD."
+
+
+Phillis was unusually silent during the remainder of the evening; but,
+as she bade Nan good-night at the door of her little room, she
+lingered a moment, shading the flame of her candle with her hand.
+
+"Do you think Mattie will bring her sister round to see us,
+to-morrow?" she asked, in a very low tone.
+
+"Oh, yes,--I am sure I hope so," returned Nan, sleepily, not noticing
+the restrained eagerness of Phillis's manner. "We can hardly call
+first, under our present circumstances. Mr. Drummond knows that." And
+Phillis withdrew, as though she were satisfied with the answer.
+
+Nothing more was said on the subject; and they settled themselves to
+their work as usual on the following morning, Dulce chattering and
+singing snatches of songs,--for she was a most merry little soul,--Nan
+cheerful and ready for conversation with any one; but Phillis withdrew
+herself to the farthest window and stitched away in grave silence.
+And, seeing such was her mood, her sisters wisely forbore to disturb
+her.
+
+At twelve o'clock the gate-bell sounded, and Dulce, who hailed any
+interruption as a joyful reprieve, announced delightedly that Mattie
+and a tall young lady were coming up the flagged walk; and in an
+instant Phillis's work lay untouched on her lap.
+
+"Are you all here? Oh, dear, I am so glad," exclaimed Mattie, bustling
+into the room with a radiant face. "I have brought Grace to see you;
+she arrived last night." And in a moment the young stranger was
+surrounded and welcomed most cordially.
+
+Phillis looked at her curiously for a moment: indeed, during the whole
+visit her eyes rested upon Grace's face from time to time, as though
+she were studying her. She had heard so much of this girl that she had
+almost feared to be disappointed in her; but every moment her interest
+increased.
+
+Grace Drummond was not a pretty girl,--with the exception of Isabel
+and the boys, the Drummond family had not the slightest pretension to
+beauty,--but she was fair and tranquil-looking, and her expression was
+gentle and full of character. She had very soft clear eyes, with a
+trace of sadness in them; but her lips were thin--like her
+mother's--and closed firmly, and the chin was a little massively cut
+for a woman.
+
+In looking at the lower part of this girl's face, a keen observer
+would read the tenacity of a strong will; but the eyes had the
+appealing softness that one sees in some dumb creatures.
+
+They won Phillis at once. After the first moment, her reserved manner
+thawed and became gracious; and before half an hour had passed she and
+Grace were talking as though they had known each other all their
+lives.
+
+Nan watched them smilingly as she chatted with Mattie: she knew her
+sister was fastidious in her likings, and that she did not take to
+people easily. Phillis was pleasant to all her friends and
+acquaintances: but she was rarely intimate with them, as Nan and Dulce
+were wont to be. She held her head a little high, as though she felt
+her own superiority.
+
+"Phillis is very amusing and clever; but one does not know her as well
+as Nan and Dulce," even Carrie Paine had been heard to say; and
+certainly Phillis had never talked to Carrie as she did to this
+stranger.
+
+Grace was just as must charmed on her side. On her return, she
+delighted and yet pained her brother by her warm praises of his
+favorites.
+
+"Oh, Archie!" she exclaimed, as they sat at luncheon in the old
+wainscoted dining-room at the vicarage, "you are quite right in saying
+the Challoners are not like any other girls. They are all three so
+nice and pretty; but the second one--Miss Phillis--is most to my
+taste."
+
+Archie checked an involuntary exclamation, but Mattie covered it.
+
+"Dear me, Grace!" she observed, innocently; "I rather wonder at your
+saying that. Nan is by far the prettiest: is she not, Archie? Her
+complexion and coloring are perfect."
+
+"Oh, yes! If you are talking of mere looks, I cannot dispute that,"
+returned Grace, a little impatiently; "but, in my opinion, there is
+far more in her sister's face: she has the beauty of expression, which
+is far higher than that of form or coloring. I should say she has far
+more character than either of them."
+
+"They are none of them wanting in that," replied Archie, breaking up
+his bread absently.
+
+"No; that's just what I say: they are perfectly unlike other girls.
+They are so fresh, and simple, and unconscious, that it is quite a
+pleasure to be with them: but if I were to choose a friend from among
+them I should certainly select Miss Phillis." And to this her brother
+made no reply.
+
+"They are all so pleased about Tuesday," interrupted Mattie, at this
+point,--"Nan was so interested and amused about my grand tea-party, as
+she called it. They have all promised to come, only Mrs. Challoner's
+cold will not allow her to go out this severe weather. And then we met
+Sir Harry, and I introduced him to Grace, and he will be delighted to
+come too. I wish you would let me ask Miss Middleton and her brother,
+Archie; and then we should be such a nice little party."
+
+"How can you be so absurd, Mattie?" returned Archie, with a touch of
+his old irritability. "A nice confusion you would make, if you were
+left to arrange things! You know the colonel's one object in life is
+to prevent his son from having any intercourse with the Challoners;
+and you would ask him to meet them the first evening after his arrival
+in the place."
+
+"Is the father so narrow in his prejudices as that?" asked Grace, who
+had quite forgotten her own shocked feelings when she first heard that
+Archie was visiting a family of dressmakers on equal terms.
+
+"Oh, dear! I forgot," sighed Mattie, taking her brother's blame
+meekly, as usual. "How very stupid of me! But would you not like the
+Cheynes or the Leslies invited, Archie? Grace ought to be introduced
+to some of the best people."
+
+"You may leave Grace to me," returned her brother, somewhat haughtily:
+"I will take care of her introductions. As for your tea-party, Mattie,
+I shall be much obliged if you will keep it within its first
+limits,--just the Challoners and Sir Harry. If any one be asked, it
+ought to be Noel Frere: he has rather a dull time of it, living alone
+in lodgings,"--the Rev. Noel Frere being a college chum of Archie's,
+who had come down to Hadleigh to recruit himself by a month or two of
+idleness. "Perhaps we had better have him, as there will be so many
+ladies."
+
+"Oh, yes,--of course! He is so nice and clever," observed Grace, not
+noticing the shade on Mattie's face. "How pleased you must be to have
+him staying here so long, Archie!--you two were always such
+friends."
+
+"He comes nearly every evening," returned Mattie, disconsolately. "He
+may suit you, Grace, because you are clever yourself; but I am
+dreadfully afraid of him, he is so dry and sarcastic. Must he really
+be asked for Tuesday, Archie?"
+
+"Yes, indeed: you ought to have thought of him first. I am sorry for
+your bad taste, Mattie, if you do not like Frere: he is a splendid
+fellow, though terribly delicate, I fear. Now, Gracie, if we have
+finished luncheon, I should like you to put on your wraps, and I will
+show you some of my favorite haunts; and perhaps we shall meet
+Frere."
+
+Grace hesitated for a moment. She thought Archie would have included
+Mattie in his invitation; but he did nothing of the kind, and she knew
+him too well to suggest such a thing.
+
+"Good-bye, Mattie dear. I hope you will have some tea ready for us
+when we come back," she said, kissing her sister affectionately; but
+they neither of them noticed the pained wistfulness of Mattie's look
+as the door closed upon them.
+
+They were going out without her; and on Grace's first day, too. Archie
+was going to show her the church, and the schools, and the model
+cottages where his favorite old women lived,--all those places that
+Mattie had visited and learned to love during the eight months she had
+lived with her brother. In a few weeks she must say good-bye to them
+all, and go back to the dull old house at Leeds, to be scolded by her
+mother for her awkward ways, and to be laughed at and teased by her
+brothers and sisters. Archie was bad enough sometimes, but then he was
+Archie, and had a right to his bad humors; but with the boys and girls
+it was less endurable. It was, "Oh, you stupid old Matt! Of course it
+was all your fault;" or, "Mattie, you goose!" from Fred; or, "You
+silly child, Mattie" from her father, who found her a less amusing
+companion than Grace; and even Dottie would say, "Oh, it is only
+Mattie: I never care if she scolds me."
+
+The home atmosphere was a little depressing, Mattie thought, with a
+sigh, dearly as she loved her young torments. She knew she would find
+it somewhat trying after these eight months of comparative freedom.
+True, Archie had snubbed her and kept her in order; but one tyrant is
+preferable to many. At home the thirty-years-old Mattie was only one
+of the many daughters,--the old maid of the family,--the unattractive
+little wall-flower who was condemned to wither unnoticed on its stalk.
+Here, in her brother's vicarage, she had been a person of consequence,
+whom only the master of the house presumed to snub.
+
+The maids liked their good-natured mistress, who never found fault
+with them, and who was so bustling and clever a little housekeeper.
+The poor people and the school-children liked Mattie too. "Our Miss
+Drummond" they called her for a long time, rather to Grace's
+discomfiture. "Ah, she is a rare one, when a body is low!" as old
+Goody Saunders once said.
+
+And Archie's friends respected the little woman, in spite of her
+crudities and decidedly odd ways. Miss Middleton and the Challoners
+were quite fond of her. So no wonder Mattie grew low at the thought of
+leaving her friends.
+
+Grace had come to take her place. Nevertheless, she had welcomed her
+on the previous evening with the utmost cheerfulness and
+unselfishness. She had shown her the house; she had introduced her to
+the Challoners; she had overwhelmed her with a thousand little
+attentions; and Grace had not been ungrateful.
+
+"I am afraid this is hard for you, Mattie," Grace had said to her, as
+the sisters were unpacking late the previous night. "I ought not be so
+happy to come, when I know I am turning you out." And Mattie had
+winked away a tear, and answered, quite cheerily,--
+
+"Oh, no, Grace; you must not feel that. I have had a nice time, and
+enjoyed myself so much with dear Archie, and now it is your turn; and,
+you know, he has always wanted you from the first."
+
+"Poor dear fellow!" murmured Grace; "but he looks thin, Mattie.
+Perhaps I ought to be here, as he wants me; but I shall never keep his
+house as beautifully as you have done. Mother would be astonished if
+she saw it." And this piece of well-deserved praise went far to
+console Mattie that night.
+
+But she began to feel just a little sore at breakfast-time. Once or
+twice, Archie decidedly ignored her, and turned to Grace; he even
+brought her his gloves to mend, though Mattie had been his faithful
+mender all these months.
+
+"Come into the study, and we will have a talk, Grace," he had said,
+and as Grace had involuntarily waited for her sister to accompany
+them, he had-added, hastily: "Oh, Mattie is always busy at this time
+with butchers and bakers! Come along, Grace:" and, though Mattie had
+no such business on her hands, she dared not join them.
+
+It was only when a parish meeting called the young vicar away that
+Mattie bethought herself of the Challoners.
+
+Poor Mattie! Low spirits were not much in her line. She had never
+thought enough of herself to indulge in the luxury of wounded
+susceptibility,--the atmosphere that surrounded her had been too rough
+and bracing for that; but nevertheless this afternoon she longed to
+indulge in a good cry. Happily, however, before the first tear had
+begun to redden her eyelids--indeed, she hardly got her mouth into the
+proper pucker--a vigorous pull at the bell warned her of an impending
+visitor, and immediately afterwards Sir Harry marched into the room,
+looking ruddier than ever with the cold air and exercise, his warm
+coloring kindling a glow in the room.
+
+His heavy footsteps shook the old flooring of the vicarage; but as he
+greeted Mattie he looked round him, as though somewhat surprised to
+find her alone.
+
+"How do you do, Miss Mattie? Why, what have you done with your
+sister?" he asked, in rather a disappointed tone. "I came to have a
+chat with you both."
+
+Another little sting for Mattie: he had only come to see Grace.
+
+"She has gone out with Archie," she returned, in a subdued voice. "He
+is showing her the church and the schools."
+
+"I was up at the Friary just now," he said, carelessly, "and they were
+all talking about your sister, praising her up to the skies. What an
+odd capacity women have for falling in love with each other at first
+sight! Phillis especially seemed very far gone. So I told them I would
+just come and have a good look at this paragon: one cannot judge of a
+person in a hat and veil."
+
+"I am sure you will like Grace," replied Mattie, reviving a little at
+the idea of her sister's perfections. "She is not pretty, exactly,
+though Archie and I think her so; but she is so nice and clever. Oh,
+you should hear those two talk! it is perfectly wonderful to listen to
+them!"
+
+"It strikes me you are a little left out in the cold, aren't you, Miss
+Mattie?" asked Sir Harry, with one of his shrewd good-humored looks.
+"Why did you not go out with them?"
+
+"Oh, Archie never wants me when he has Grace," answered Mattie, with a
+sudden pang at the truthfulness of this speech. "They have always been
+so much to each other, those two."
+
+"He would want you fast enough if Miss Grace--is that not her
+name?--were to marry and leave him to shift for himself," was the
+somewhat matter-of-fact answer.
+
+But Mattie shook her head at this with a faint smile:
+
+"Grace will never marry. She would not leave Archie."
+
+"Oh, but that is nonsense, do you know?--sheer nonsense! Many girls
+talk like that, but they change their mind in the end. Why, the parson
+may marry himself. You don't suppose a good looking fellow like that
+intends to be an old bachelor? And then what will Miss Grace do?"
+
+"I don't know. I am afraid she will miss him dreadfully."
+
+"Oh, but she will get over it all right. It does not do to make a fuss
+over that sort of thing. Sentimentality between brothers and sisters
+is all very well in its way, but it won't hold against a wife's or
+husband's claims. I never had any myself, so I don't know; but I find
+it precious lonely without them. That is why I have adopted my
+cousins. A man must care for some one."
+
+"Yes, indeed," echoed Mattie, with a sigh.
+
+"I am afraid your people do not use you very well, Miss Mattie," he
+went on, with cheerful sympathy that was quite a cordial in its way.
+"You look a bit down this afternoon; a fellow would call it in the
+blues, and he would be thinking of a cigar and brandy-and-soda. What a
+pity women don't smoke! it is no end soothing to the spirits!"
+
+"We have got afternoon tea," returned Mattie, beginning to smile at
+this.
+
+"Well, why don't you ring and order some?" he replied, quite
+seriously. "Do, please, Miss Mattie, if it will put a little heart
+into you. Why, I should like a cup myself uncommonly. There never was
+such a fellow for afternoon tea." And then Mattie did ring the bell,
+and, Sir Harry having stirred the fire into a cheerful blaze, and the
+little brass kettle beginning to sing cheerily on its trivet, things
+soon looked more comfortable.
+
+"Now you are all right," he remarked, presently. "You look quite a
+different sort of body now. When I first came in you reminded me of
+Cinderella in a brown dress, sitting all alone, by a very black fire.
+I do believe you were on the verge of crying. Now, weren't you, Miss
+Mattie?" And Mattie, with much shame, owned to the impeachment.
+
+"And what was it all about, eh?" he asked, with such a coaxing
+peremptoriness that Mattie confessed that she was rather dull at the
+thought that nobody wanted her, and that she must go home; and, on
+being further pressed and questioned, out it all came,--Mattie's
+shortcomings, her stupid ways, and the provocation she offered to home
+criticism. Sir Harry listened and laughed, and every now and then
+threw in a jesting remark; but so encouraging was his manner and so
+evident his interest that Mattie found herself talking as she had
+never done to any one but Miss Middleton. Before she had finished, Sir
+Harry knew all about the household in Lowder Street, and had formed a
+tolerable estimate of every member of the family,--the depressed
+father; the care-worn and some what stern mother; the boys, clever and
+handsome and flippant; the girls in all stages of awkwardness; and the
+quiet, talented Grace, who was every one's right hand, and who had
+come to the vicarage to dispossess Mattie.
+
+"Come, now, I call that hard; I do, upon my word!" he repeated more
+than once at the end of Mattie's little narrative. "Women have a lot
+put upon them. I dare say if I had had sisters I should have bullied
+them sometimes. Men are awful tyrants, aren't they, Miss Mattie?"
+
+Mattie took this literally.
+
+"I do not think you would be a tyrant, Sir Harry," she returned,
+simply, and then wondered why he suddenly colored up to the roots of
+his hair.
+
+"Oh, there is no knowing," he replied, in an embarrassed tone. "I have
+never had any one to bully. I think I shall try my hand on Dulce, only
+she is such a little spit-fire. Well, I must be going," he went on,
+straightening himself. "By the bye, I shall not see you again until
+Tuesday; I have to run over to Oldfield about a lot of business I have
+in hand. Do you know Oldfield?"
+
+"Oh, no; but Nan and Phillis have described it so often that I seem as
+though I have been there."
+
+"It is a niceish place, and I am half inclined to settle there myself;
+there is a house going that would just suit me."
+
+Mattie's face lengthened: she did not like the idea of losing Sir
+Harry, he had been so good-natured and kind to her.
+
+"One would never see you if you live at Oldfield," she said, a little
+sorrowfully; and again Sir Harry looked embarrassed.
+
+"Oh, but you will be at Leeds, so it won't make much difference. But I
+do not want to be parted from Aunt Catherine and the girls: there is a
+great deal to arrange. Perhaps, before you go, I shall be able to tell
+you that things are settled. Anyhow, good-bye till Tuesday." And then
+he nodded to her in a friendly way, and Mattie returned to her
+fireplace refreshed and comforted.
+
+Archie and Grace came in presently, bringing another current of cold
+air with them. They both looked bright and happy, as though they had
+enjoyed their walk. Grace's pale cheeks had the loveliest tinge in
+them.
+
+"Have we left you too long alone, Mattie dear?" she asked, as she took
+the cup of tea offered her. "How cosy this dear old room looks! and
+what a beautiful fire!"
+
+"Sir Harry has been emptying the coal-scuttle!" laughed Mattie. "What
+a pity you missed him, Grace! he has been so amusing."
+
+Grace smiled incredulously:
+
+"Why, that great big Sir Harry Challoner whom you introduced this
+morning! my dear Mattie, I am sure he could never be amusing. I was
+not greatly prepossessed with him."
+
+"Mattie's geese are all swans. I don't think much of him myself,"
+broke in Archie, in a satirical voice. "I like quality better than
+quantity. He is so big, I am sure his brains must suffer by
+comparison. Now, there is Frere."
+
+"Oh, yes, we met Mr. Frere!" interrupted Grace, eagerly; "and Archie
+and he had such a talk: it was delightful only to listen to it. I
+liked his ideas on ecclesiastical architecture, Archie." And then
+followed an animated discussion between the sister and brother, about
+a book of Ruskin's that they had both been reading. Mattie tried to
+follow them; but she had not read Ruskin, and they soon left her miles
+behind; indeed, after the first few minutes they seemed to have
+forgotten her existence; but somehow Mattie did not feel so forlorn as
+usual.
+
+"Come, now, I call that hard," a sympathizing voice seemed to say in
+her ear. Sir Harry's genial presence, his blunt, kindly speeches, had
+done Mattie good: he had called her Cinderella, and made the fire
+blaze for her, and had coaxed her in quite a brotherly manner to tell
+him her little troubles and Mattie felt very grateful to him.
+
+So she stared into the fire wistful and happy, while the others talked
+over her head, and quite started when she heard her own name.
+
+"We are forgetting Mattie; all this must be so dull for her," Grace
+was saying, as she touched her shoulder caressingly. "Come upstairs
+with me, dear: we can have a chat while we get ready for dinner. You
+must not let your friends make themselves so much at home, you
+extravagant child, for your fire is far too large for comfort;" but
+Mattie turned away from it reluctantly as she followed her sister out
+of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII.
+
+"I WILL WRITE NO SUCH LETTER."
+
+
+The new year had not opened very auspiciously at Longmead, neither had
+the Christmas festivities been great.
+
+Dick on his first return home had put on a great appearance of
+cheerfulness, and had carried himself much as usual; but Mr. Mayne had
+been glum, decidedly glum, and Mrs. Mayne had found it difficult to
+adjust the balance of her sympathy between Dick's voluble quicksilver
+on the one hand, and her husband's dead weight of ill humor on the
+other.
+
+The truth was, Mr. Mayne's sharp eyes had discerned from the first
+moment of his son's entrance into the house that there was no change
+in his purpose.
+
+To an outsider, Dick's behavior to his father was as nice as possible.
+He still kept up his old jokes, rallying him on his matutinal
+activity, and saying a word about the "early worm," "so bad for the
+worm, poor beggar," observed Dick. And he sauntered after him into the
+poultry-yard, and had a great deal to say about some Spanish fowls
+that had been lately imported into Longmead and that were great
+sources of pride to Mr. Mayne.
+
+Dick paid a great deal of dutiful attention to his father's hobbies:
+he put on his thickest boots every day after luncheon, that his father
+might enjoy the long walks in which he delighted. Dick used to sally
+forth whistling to his dogs when they went down Sandy Lane; he was
+careful to pause where the four roads met, that Mr. Mayne might enjoy
+his favorite view. In all these things Dick's behavior was perfect.
+Nevertheless, on their return from one of these walks they each had a
+secret grievance to pour into Mrs. Mayne's ear.
+
+Dick's turn would come first.
+
+"Mother," he would say, as he lounged into the room where she sat
+knitting by the firelight and thinking of her boy--for just now she
+was heart and soul on Dick's side--and full of yearning for the sweet
+girl whom he wanted for his wife, "I don't know how long this sort of
+thing is going on, but I don't think I can put up with it much
+longer."
+
+"Have you not had a nice walk with your father?" she asked,
+anxiously.
+
+"Oh, yes; the walk was well enough. We had some trouble with Vigo,
+though, for he startled a pheasant in Lord Fitzroy's preserve, and
+then he bolted after a hare. I had quite a difficulty in getting him
+to heel."
+
+"These walks do your father so much good, Dick."
+
+"That is what you always say; but I do not think I can stand many more
+of them. He will talk of everything but the one subject, and that he
+avoids like poison. I shall have to bring him to book directly, and
+then there will be no end of a row. It is not the row I mind,"
+continued Dick, rather ruefully; "but I hate putting him out and
+seeing him cut up rough. If he would only be sensible and give me my
+way in this, there is nothing I would not do to please him. You must
+talk to him; you must indeed, mother." And then Mrs. Mayne, with a
+sinking heart, promised that she would do what she could.
+
+And after that it would be her husband's turn.
+
+"I tell you what Bessie; I am not satisfied about that boy," he
+remarked, once, as he came in to warm his hands before going upstairs
+to dress for dinner. "I don't know from whom he gets his
+obstinacy,--not from either of us, I am sure of that,--but his
+cheerfulness does not deceive me. He means mischief; I can see that
+plainly."
+
+"Oh, Richard! And Dick has been so nice to you ever since he came
+home. Why, he has not once asked to have any of his friends down to
+stay. And before this he was never content unless we filled the house.
+He takes walks with you, and is as domesticated and quiet as possible,
+so different from other young fellows, who are always racketing
+about."
+
+"That is just what bothers me," returned her husband, crossly. "You
+have no discernment, Bessie, or you would know what I mean. I should
+not care a straw if Dick were to cram the house with young fellows:
+that sort of larking is just natural at his age. Why, he quite
+pooh-poohed the idea of a dinner-party the other night, though I
+planned it for his pleasure. His mind is set on other things, and that
+is why I say he is up to mischief."
+
+Mrs. Mayne sighed as she smoothed down her satin dress with her plump
+white hands; but she could not gainsay the truth of this speech: his
+father was right,--Dick's mind was set on other things.
+
+"I wish you would let him talk to you," she began, timidly,
+remembering her promise. "Do, my dear; for I am sure Dick is very much
+in earnest."
+
+"So am I very much in earnest," he returned, wrathfully; and his small
+eyes grew bright and irritable. "No, it is no use your looking at me
+in that way, Bessie. I am determined not to allow that boy to ruin
+his prospects for life. He will thank me one day for being firm; and
+so will you, though you do turn against your own husband."
+
+This was too much for Mrs. Mayne's affectionate nature to bear.
+
+"Oh, Richard, how can you talk so? and I have been a good wife to you
+all these years!" And here the poor woman began to sob. "You might
+make allowance for a mother's feelings; he is my boy as well as yours,
+and I would cut off my right hand to make him happy; and I do--I do
+think you are very hard upon him about Nan."
+
+Mr. Mayne stared at her in speechless amazement. Bessie, his
+long-suffering Bessie,--the wife of his bosom, over whom he had a
+right to tyrannize,--even she had turned against him, and had taken
+his son's part. "Et tu, Brute!" he could have said, in his bitterness;
+but his wrath was too great.
+
+"I tell you what," he said, rising from the seat that was no longer
+restful to him, and pointing his finger at her, "you and your boy
+together will be the death of me."
+
+"Oh, Richard, how can you be so wicked?"
+
+"Oh, I am wicked, am I? That is a nice wifely speech."
+
+"Yes, you are, when you say such things to me!" she returned, plucking
+up spirit that amazed herself afterwards. "If you do not know when you
+have a good wife and son, I am sorry for you. I say again, I think you
+are making a grievous mistake, Richard. Dick's heart is set on the
+girl; and I don't wonder at it, a dear pretty creature like that. And
+if you cross him, and set him wrong, you will have to answer to both
+of us for the consequences." And then she, too, rose, trembling in
+every limb, and with her comely face very much flushed. Even a worm
+will turn, and Bessie Mayne had for once ventured to speak the truth
+to her husband.
+
+She had the victory that night, for he was too much dumbfounded by her
+rebellion to indulge in his usual recriminations: he had never
+imagined before that Bessie owned a will of her own; but he felt now,
+with a pang of wounded self-love, that the younger Richard had proved
+a formidable rival.
+
+His wife's heart relented when she saw his moody looks; but he would
+not be reconciled to her, in spite of her coaxing speeches.
+
+"Come Richard,--come, my dear! you must not be so cross with me," she
+said to him later on that night. "We have been married
+three-and-twenty years, and have never had a serious quarrel; and I
+don't like your black looks at me."
+
+"Then you should not anger me by taking that boy's part," was his only
+answer; and he could not be induced to say anything more conciliatory.
+And the poor woman went to bed weeping.
+
+Things were in this uncomfortable state, when, one morning, Dick
+thrust his head into the study where his father was jotting down some
+household accounts; for he managed all such minor details himself,
+much to his wife's relief.
+
+"Are you particularly busy, father?--I want to have a talk with you."
+
+Mr. Mayne looked up quickly, and his bushy eyebrows drew together.
+
+"Well, yes, I am, Dick,--most particularly busy just now;" for there
+was a look on his son's face that made him feel disinclined for
+conversation.
+
+"Oh, very well, then; I can leave it until after luncheon," was the
+cheerful response; then Mr. Mayne knew that Dick was determined to
+take the bull by the horns.
+
+They went out after luncheon, taking the dogs with them, and turning
+their steps in the direction of Sandy Lane. For the first mile, Dick
+said very little; he had his eye on Vigo, who seemed to be inclined to
+bolt. But when they had reached the second mile-stone, he cleared his
+throat; and then Mr. Mayne knew that his trouble was beginning.
+
+"Well, father," commenced Dick, "I think it is about time we had a
+little serious talk together about my future plans. Of course I want
+to know if I am to go down next term."
+
+"I don't see that we need discuss that. You will read for your degree,
+of course."
+
+Mr. Mayne spoke fast and nervously; but Dick was quite cool,--at
+least, outwardly so.
+
+"There is no 'of course' in the matter. I can only read for my degree
+on one condition."
+
+"And what is that, may I ask?" with rising choler in his voice.
+
+"That you will have Nan down to Longmead, and that you and my mother
+sanction our engagement."
+
+"Never, sir! never!" in a vehement tone.
+
+"Please don't excite yourself, father. I think it is I who ought to be
+excited; but, you see, I am quite cool,--perfectly so. I am far too
+much in earnest to be otherwise. When a man's future prospects are at
+stake, and his own father seems determined to thwart him, it is time
+to summon up all one's energies. I hope you are not serious in what
+you say,--that you do absolutely refuse to sanction my engagement with
+Nan?"
+
+"There is no engagement. If there were, I do absolutely refuse; nay,
+more, I am determined actively to oppose it."
+
+"I am sorry to find you have not changed your mind; for it makes all
+the difference to me, I assure you. Very well: then I must go in for a
+City life."
+
+"Do you threaten me, sir?"
+
+"No, father, I would not be so undutiful; but it is a pity your
+throwing all that money away on my education if I am not to complete
+it. If I had taken a good degree, I might have turned out something;
+but never mind,--it can't be helped now. Then you will be kind enough
+to write a letter of introduction to Stansfield & Stansfield?"
+
+"No, sir; I will write no such letter!" thundered Mr. Mayne; and Dick
+put his hands in his pocket and whistled. He felt himself losing
+patience; but, as he said afterwards, his father was in such an awful
+rage that it was necessary for one of them to keep cool. So, as soon
+as he recovered, he said, quite pleasantly,--
+
+"Well, if you will not, you will not. We may take a horse to the
+water, but we can't make him drink. And the time has not come yet for
+a son to order his own father, though we are pretty well advanced
+now."
+
+"I think we are, Dick."
+
+"I confess I am rather disappointed at not getting that letter. Mr.
+Stansfield would have attached some importance to it; but I dare say I
+shall get on with the old boy without it. I may as well tell you that
+I shall accept anything he likes to offer me,--even if it be only a
+clerkship at eighty pounds a year. After all, I am not worse off than
+you were at my age. You began at the bottom of the ladder: so I need
+not grumble."
+
+"Do you mean to say," demanded his father, in a tone of grief, "that
+you really intend to throw me over, and not only me, but all your
+advantages, your prospects in life, for the sake of this girl?"
+
+"I think it is you who are throwing me over," returned his son,
+candidly. "Put yourself in my place. When you were a young man,
+father, would you have given up my mother, if my grandfather had
+wished you to do so?"
+
+"The cases are different,--altogether different," was the angry
+response. "I never would have married a dressmaker."
+
+"There are dressmakers and dressmakers: but at least my _fiancee_ is a
+gentlewoman," returned his son, hotly.
+
+Dick meant nothing by this speech more than his words implied: he was
+far too good-natured for an _arriere-pensee_. But his father chose to
+consider himself insulted.
+
+"You insolent young fellow!" he exclaimed, fuming. "Do you mean your
+mother was not as good as Miss Nancy, any day? I never did believe in
+those Challoners,--never, in spite of the mother's airs. I tell you
+what, Dick, you are treating me shamefully; after all the money I have
+wasted on you, to turn round on me in this way and talk about the
+City. I wash my hands of you, sir. I will have nothing to do with
+introductions: you may go your way, but you will never see a penny of
+my money." And he walked on with a very black look indeed.
+
+"All right," returned Dick. But he was not quite so cool now. "Thank
+you for all you have done for me, and for letting me know your future
+intentions. I am thinking it is a good thing Nan has learned her
+business, for, as we shall be tolerably poor, it will be handy for her
+to make her own gowns."
+
+"Very well, Dick."
+
+"I shall go up to Mr. Stansfield to-morrow; and the day after I
+suppose I had better write to the Dean. You may not believe me,
+father,"--and here Dick's lip quivered for the first time,--"but I am
+awfully sorry to cross you in this way; but my heart is so set on Nan
+that I could not possibly bring myself to live without her." But to
+this Mr. Mayne made no reply, and they walked the remainder of the way
+in silence.
+
+Mrs. Mayne's heart grew sick with apprehension when she saw their
+faces at dinner.
+
+Dick looked decidedly cross. To do him justice, the poor fellow was
+thoroughly miserable; but his aspect was cheerful compared to that of
+her husband.
+
+Mr. Mayne would not speak; neither would he eat. And even the footman,
+who took away the untasted viands, looked at his master with fear and
+trembling, his countenance was so gloomy.
+
+Dick did not seem to notice his father's failure of appetite; but Mrs.
+Mayne was one of those women who are given to fancy that if a man
+refuse his dinner there is something serious the matter with him. And
+as the meal proceeded she cast piteous looks at her son, but Dick
+totally ignored them.
+
+As soon as the servants had handed round the fruit, and had left the
+room, Mr. Mayne rose from the table, leaving his claret untasted, and
+shut himself into the library, first banging the door behind him, a
+sound that made his wife's heart palpitate.
+
+"Oh, Dick, what was happened to your father?" she asked, turning to
+her boy for comfort. But Dick was unusually sulky, and refused to
+answer.
+
+"You had better ask him, mother, if you are anxious to know," he
+replied, in a voice he very seldom used to her. "As for me, I am so
+sick of the whole thing, and feel myself so badly used, that I would
+rather not open my lips on the subject."
+
+Then Mrs. Mayne sighed, for she knew Dick had one of his obstinate
+fits on him, and that there would be no further word spoken by him
+that night.
+
+Poor woman! She knew it was her duty to go into the library and speak
+a word of comfort to her husband. It might be that Dick had been
+contumacious, and had angered his father, and it might be her task to
+pour in the balm of sympathy. Even if he had been hard on her boy, she
+must not forget that he was her husband.
+
+But as she opened the door she forgot her doubts in a moment. Mr.
+Mayne's face was so pale, despite its blackness, that she was moved to
+instant pity.
+
+"Oh, Richard, what is it?" she said, hurrying to him, "My dear, you
+must not take it to heart in this way." And she took his forehead
+between her hands and kissed it with the old tenderness she had once
+felt for him, when they, too, had lived and worked for each other, and
+there was no Master Dick to plague them and rule over his mother's
+heart.
+
+"Bessie, that boy will be the death of me," he groaned. But,
+notwithstanding the despondency of these words, the comfort of his
+wife's presence was visibly felt, and by and by he suffered her to
+coax the truth from him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+MR. MAYNE ORDERS A BASIN OF GRUEL.
+
+
+On the following morning Mr. Mayne did open his lips to address a word
+to his son:
+
+"I shall be obliged to you, Dick, if you will postpone your intended
+visit to town, for this day at least;" for Dick had an "ABC" beside
+him, and was picking out a fast train while he ate his breakfast.
+
+"All right," replied Dick: "I can wait another four-and-twenty hours."
+But though he yielded the point graciously enough, he did not look at
+his father, or say anything more on the subject; and as soon as his
+appetite was satisfied, he took up the "Times," and lounged into his
+den. Shortly afterwards they heard him whistling to his dogs, and knew
+that he would not appear until luncheon.
+
+Mrs. Mayne wished that her husband would follow his example; but he
+had put on his slippers, and showed no inclination to leave the
+fireside. He read his paper and dozed a good deal, and snapped up
+Bessie if she spoke to him: so, on the whole, Mrs. Mayne had rather a
+dull morning. When the luncheon-bell rang, he chose to put on invalid
+airs, and ordered a basin of gruel to be brought to him in the
+library. Mrs. Mayne who knew he was not ill, and that his
+indisposition was purely mental and imaginary, was yet wise enough to
+fall in with his whim.
+
+"Your master would like his gruel nicely flavored, James," she said to
+the footman. "Please ask Mrs. Simpkins to prepare it in the way he
+likes." And then she placed his favorite little table beside him, and
+stirred the fire into a more cheerful blaze.
+
+"Your father does not feel himself well enough to come in to luncheon,
+Dick," she said to her son, probably for the benefit of the servant,
+who was waiting to remove the covers; and Dick, for the same reason,
+testified a proper amount of sympathy.
+
+"He takes too long walks for a man of his age," he said, applying
+himself vigorously to the dismemberment of a chicken. "Mother, I will
+trouble you for some of that game-pie." And then he told her another
+anecdote about Vigo.
+
+After luncheon Dick again disappeared, and Mrs. Mayne, who dreaded an
+afternoon's _tete-a-tete_ with her husband in his present mood, went
+up to her own room, for some feminine business, or to take a nap. Mr.
+Mayne, a little mollified by the gruel, which had been flavored
+exactly to his liking with a _soupcon_ of rum, was just composing
+himself for another doze, when he was roused by the loud pealing of
+the hall bell, and the next moment the door was flung open by James,
+and Sir Henry Challoner was announced.
+
+It was a dark wintry afternoon, and the library was somewhat sombre:
+the fire had died down, owing to Mr. Mayne's drowsiness. In the dim
+light Sir Harry's big burly figure looked almost gigantic. Mr. Mayne,
+with his little lean shoulders and sharp face, looked beside him much
+as a small gray-hound would beside a mastiff.
+
+"How do you do?" began Sir Harry, in his loud voice. "I must apologize
+for my intrusion; but I think my name is well known to you, and needs
+no introduction. I have often heard of Mr. Mayne, I can assure you."
+
+"You do me too much honor," returned that gentleman, stiffly; and he
+glanced at the card in his hand. There it was, "Sir Henry Challoner."
+"But what the----" And here his favorite expletive rose to his lips.
+
+"We can scarcely see each other's faces," observed Sir Harry,
+cheerfully. "Will you allow me to take the liberty, though I have not
+known you for seven years--and hardly for seven minutes!" And then he
+seized the poker, and broke up an obstinate piece of coal.
+
+"Actually, in my own house, and before my own eyes," as Mr. Mayne told
+his wife afterwards.
+
+"There, now! I have made a glorious blaze. These are first-rate coals.
+Now we can have our talk comfortably together. You do not know me
+personally; but I dare say you have heard of my father,--Sir Francis
+Challoner? Poor old fellow! I am afraid too many people heard of him
+in his time."
+
+"Yes, sir: but, as it is hardly becoming of me to say to his son, I
+have never heard much good of him. If I remember rightly, he did poor
+Challoner a bad turn once."
+
+"Hush, my good friend!" And Sir Harry's ruddy face looked a little
+disturbed. "I thought no one but myself and Aunt Catherine knew that
+story. It is rather hard on a man to have this sort of things brought
+up. And the poor old governor is dead now: so, if you will permit me
+to observe, bygones had better be bygones on that subject."
+
+"Oh, by all means, Sir Harry; but you introduced the matter
+yourself."
+
+"Excuse me, Mr. Mayne," rather haughtily, "I introduced myself. I am
+the son of Sir Francis. Well, if you know so much, you will understand
+the sort of interest I take in my cousins and how I consider it my
+duty to make up to them for what they have lost."
+
+"Very proper, I am sure."
+
+"As to that, duty is a pleasure. They are such awfully jolly girls,
+and so uncommonly plucky, that I am as proud of them as though they
+were my own sisters. Nan is so confoundedly pretty, too. I don't
+wonder at your son's taste. He must be a lucky fellow who gets Nan."
+
+"Sir!" vociferated Mr. Mayne; and Sir Harry immediately changed his
+tactics:
+
+"That is a tidy place opposite you,--Gilsbank, I mean. I have been
+over there settling about the purchase. I am afraid Crauford is rather
+a screw: he wanted to drive too close a bargain. But I said, 'No; you
+shall have your money down, right and tight, but not a farthing over.'
+And I insisted on my right to change the name if I like. I have half a
+mind to call it 'Challoner Place.'"
+
+Mr. Mayne was wide awake now; his astonishment knew no bounds.
+
+"You are going to buy Gilsbank!"
+
+"I have bought it," was the cool response; "and I am now in treaty for
+Glen Cottage. My aunt has a fancy for her old home; and, though it is
+not much of a place, it is big enough for her and the girls; and
+Ibbetson has done a good deal to improve it. You look surprised, Mr.
+Mayne; but I suppose a man must live somewhere!"
+
+"Of course it is none of my business; but I thought Sir Francis was as
+poor as a church mouse. Mrs. Challoner was my informant; and she
+always led me to suppose so."
+
+"She was perfectly right. The poor old man never could keep money in
+his pocket: it always seemed to slip through his fingers. But that is
+not my case. I have been a lucky fellow all my life. I roughed it a
+bit in the colonies at first; but it did me no harm. And then we made
+a splendid hit out in Sydney,--coined money, in fact. I would not like
+to tell you what I made in one year: it seems blowing one's trumpet,
+somehow. But I soon got sick of making it; and here I am, with a tidy
+fortune,--plenty for myself, and enough to set up my aunt and the
+girls comfortably without feeling the loss. And now, Mr. Mayne when
+they are back at Glen Cottage, I want to know what you will do about
+your son."
+
+To do Mr Mayne justice, he was far too perplexed to answer off-hand;
+in fact, he was almost rendered dumb by excessive astonishment. To
+borrow his own forcible expression, used to his wife afterwards, "he
+hardly knew where he was, things were so topsy-turvy."
+
+In the old days, before Dick had produced that wonderful moustache
+that was so long in growing, Mr. Mayne had been very partial to his
+neighbors at Glen Cottage. It is always pleasant to a man to patronize
+and befriend a pretty woman; and Mrs. Challoner was an exceedingly
+pretty woman. It was quite an occupation to a busy man like the master
+of Longmead to superintend their garden and give his advice on all
+subjects that belong to a man's province.
+
+But for the last year, since Dick had so greatly developed in mental
+culture, his father had been growing very weary even of the name of
+Challoner; it had become a habit with him to decry them on every
+possible occasion. "What is in a name?" he would say, when some person
+would lament the dead-and-gone glories of Challoner Place. "There is
+not a soul belonging to them, except that disreputable Sir Francis;
+and he is as good as a beggar."
+
+But since Glen Cottage had given way to the Friary, and the
+dressmaking scheme had been carried out, his opposition had become
+perfectly frantic: he could have sworn at Dick for his senselessness,
+his want of pride, his lamentable deficiency in ambition. "Never, as
+long as my name is Richard Mayne, will I give in to that boy," he had
+vowed inwardly.
+
+And now there had suddenly started up, like a piece of gilded
+clap-trap, this amazing man of inches, calling himself their cousin,
+Sir Henry Challoner; a man who was absolutely tired of making
+money,--who called Gilsbank, a far finer house than Longmead, a tidy
+little place, and who could throw in Glen Cottage, that bijou
+residence, as a sort of dower-house for widowed Challoners; a man who
+would soon be talked about in Hadleigh, not because he was rich,--most
+of the Hadleigh families were rich,--but because he was restoring an
+ancient name to something of its old respectability.
+
+Mr. Mayne was essentially a shrewd, far-sighted man. Like other
+self-made men, he attached great importance to good blood. In a moment
+he realized that Nan Challoner of the Friary was a very different
+person from Nan Challoner of Glen Cottage, the cousin of Sir Henry
+Challoner. Under the latter circumstances she would be received on
+equal terms at Fitzroy Lodge and at the other houses of the
+aristocracy. In marrying her, Dick would be at once on an intimate
+footing with those very people who only just tolerated his father.
+
+"Well," observed Sir Harry, after a lengthy pause, "what do you say
+about the matter, eh? Though I have accumulated a pretty sum of money,
+I do not pretend to be a millionaire; and of course, as I may settle
+down some day and have a family of my own, I must not treat my cousins
+as though they were my sisters. I think of allowing my aunt a
+sufficient income during her lifetime to keep up Glen Cottage, and I
+do not mind paying the girls three thousand pounds down on their
+wedding-day just for pin-money; but more than that cannot be expected
+of me."
+
+"Of course not," returned Mr. Mayne; and then he hesitated. Three
+thousand pounds was not much of a fortune. Why, the girl he wanted for
+Dick had fifteen thousand, at least; but then Dick would not look at
+her; and even three thousand was better than nothing. "I had hoped
+better things for my son," he went on, stiffly. "I always meant Dick
+to marry money."
+
+"Oh, true, money is very good in its way; but then, you see, young
+fellows are not always to be coerced. I believe there is a very strong
+attachment between your son and my cousin Nan."
+
+"It has cost me a great deal of vexation," replied Mr. Mayne very
+testily,--all the more that his resolution was wavering. "I do not
+wish to hurt your feelings, Sir Henry, but this confounded dressmaking
+of theirs----" But here Sir Harry stopped him by a most extraordinary
+facial contraction, which most certainly resembled a wink.
+
+"Hush!" he exclaimed, in a very loud whisper. "It does not matter to
+me, of course; but if I were you, I would not mention this little fact
+to any one else. Girls are girls, and they will have their fling. A
+good steady husband, that is what they want, the best of them, to
+sober them when the right time comes. I mean to put a stop to this
+nonsense; but after all, a little bit of larking like that with a lot
+of high-spirited generous creatures, what does it matter in the long
+run? You just settle things with me off-hand, and I will come to terms
+with the young ladies. I am the head of the family, as they know." And
+Sir Harry threw out his big chest with a sudden movement of importance
+and pride. "I am the head of the family: they will be pleased to
+remember that," he repeated pompously.
+
+It was just at this moment, when victory lay within his grasp, that
+Dick sauntered lazily into the room.
+
+Dick was in an execrable humor: he was tired and worried, and his
+boots were muddy. And what was the use of being still contumacious,
+unless his obstinacy were to be a spectacle to men and gods,--unless
+he were to flaunt his ill humor in the face of his tyrant, and make
+his father's soul wretched within him? Such is youthful reasoning,
+that hates to veil its feelings unobserved.
+
+Dick had not perceived Sir Harry's card, so he stared at the intruder
+a little coolly. Sir Harry returned his look with a glance of mingled
+surprise and amusement.
+
+"Is this the young gentleman in question?" he asked, in a tone that
+roused Dick's ire. To tell the truth, he was a little disappointed by
+Nan's choice. It was not so much Dick's want of good looks, but in Sir
+Harry eyes he appeared somewhat insignificant; and then a scowl is not
+always becoming to a face. Dick's bright genial expression was
+wanting; he looked a little too like his father at this moment for Sir
+Harry's taste.
+
+"Do you mean me?" observed Dick, in a magnificent tone. "Is it I who
+am the young gentleman in question?--Father, will you have the
+goodness to introduce me to this gentleman with whom you have been
+talking me over?" And Dick twirled his moustache angrily.
+
+Mr. Mayne looked at his son's moody face, and his feelings underwent a
+sudden revulsion; but before he could speak Sir Harry stepped in
+nimbly before him:
+
+"Well now, I like spirit--no one cares to be talked about behind
+one's back. Supposing we shake hands, you and I, as we are to be so
+nearly related. I am Nan's guardian, her next of kin,--Sir Harry
+Challoner, at your service; and Nan sends her love and you are a lucky
+fellow, that is what you are!" exclaimed Sir Harry, genially, as he
+struck Dick a sounding blow on his shoulder. But Dick did not wince;
+and, though the diamond ring cut into his hand as they exchanged that
+grasp, no expression of pain crossed his face, which became all at
+once quite radiant.
+
+Sir Harry hailed the metamorphosis with delight. Here was the real
+Dick emerging like a young sun-god from the clouds.
+
+"Come, that is first-rate; I like the look of you better now," he
+said, with an appreciative nod.
+
+"Father, what does this mean?" faltered Dick.
+
+"It means," growled Mr. Mayne, for he could not get quite amiable all
+at once, though his heart was lightening in his bosom, "it means that
+I am an old fool, Dick, and that you are a young one."
+
+"No, father,--not really,--does it?" And Dick beamed still more.
+
+"And it means that you are not to plague me any more about the City.
+But there! though you have behaved so badly to me, Dick, I forgive
+you. Sir Harry and I have been talking over things, and if you will
+work hard for your degree your mother shall ask the girl down here,
+and we will see about it, and that is all I can say at present. And so
+we may as well shake hands upon it too."
+
+But Dick did more than that; he threw his arm over his father's
+shoulder with a movement that was almost caressing.
+
+"Thank you, pater; you are a brick and no mistake!" was all the
+undemonstrative Briton's tongue could say. But Mr. Mayne, as he looked
+in his boy's face and felt that pressure on his shoulder, thought them
+sufficiently eloquent.
+
+"There! get along with you, and have it out with your mother," he
+growled. But, in spite of his surly tone, Mr. Mayne felt an amount of
+relief that astonished himself: to see Dick's face happy again, to
+have no cloud between them, to know that no domestic discord would
+harass his soul and render gruel necessary to his well-being, was
+restoring him to his old self again. Sir Harry longed to throw back
+his head and indulge in a good laugh as he witnessed this little scene
+of reconciliation.
+
+Mrs. Mayne, who was sitting somewhat sadly by her own fireside,
+thinking over that day's discomfort, was quite taken aback by hearing
+Dick coming upstairs in his old way--three steps at a time--and then
+bursting into the room after a hasty knock at the door.
+
+"Mother," he cried, breathlessly, "Sir Harry Challoner is in the
+library--and pater wants you to come down and give them some tea--and
+Sir Henry is going to stop to dinner--and the woodcock is to be
+cooked--and you are to get the best room ready. But first of all--like
+the dear, darling mother you are--you are to sit down and write a
+letter to Nan."
+
+But the letter was not written then; for how could Bessie keep her
+husband and his guest waiting for their tea after such an urgent
+message? And had she not first of all to listen to Dick's incoherent
+story, which she heard better from Sir Harry afterwards, who took
+great pains to explain it to the poor bewildered woman?
+
+Mr. Mayne thought he had never seen Bessie look so handsome since the
+days he courted her, as she sat smiling at the head of the table in
+her velvet gown. And Sir Harry, too, was quite charmed with the soft,
+comely creature.
+
+Later on, while the two elder gentlemen were chatting confidentially
+over their cigars and whisky-and-water, she did manage to write a few
+lines to Nan. But it was not much of a letter; for how was she to
+construct a decent sentence with that torment Dick hanging over the
+back of her chair and interrupting her every moment? But Nan was not
+ill pleased by the missive when she received it.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+"My own dear girl," it said,--"my dearest girl,--for no daughter could
+ever be so dear to me as you will be, Nan, for my boy's sake, and
+because he loves you so." ("You are right there, mother!" struck in
+Dick, in a tone of ecstasy.) "Everything has come right, through Sir
+Henry's intercession and my Richard's goodness." ("Humph!" coughed
+Dick. "Well, it is not for the like of me to contradict you.")
+
+"You are to come to us--at once--at once,"--underlined,--"for Dick
+will be going back to Oxford, so there is no time to lose; and you
+have not got any good of your engagement yet." ("Only just at that
+last moment," muttered her son at this.)
+
+"My precious boy looks so happy that I could cry with joy to see him."
+("Oh, shut up, mother! Nan knows all that.") "And his dear father
+looks as pleased as possible, and he sends his love." ("He did indeed,
+Dick," as an incredulous sound broke from his lips), "and he says
+bygones are bygones. And you are on no account to feel yourself
+awkward as regards him, for of course Dick's _fiancee_" ("Are you sure
+that is spelt right, Dick?") "will bring her own welcome. Is not that
+a sweet speech for my Richard to say? So you will come, my dear, will
+you not? And I remain, just what I always was, my Nan's loving
+friend,
+
+                                                       "Bessie Mayne."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+And then the letter was carefully consigned to Dick's pocket, and in
+due course of time was delivered into Nan's fair hands.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV.
+
+AN UNINVITED GUEST.
+
+
+During the next few days Grace and Phillis made great strides towards
+intimacy; and, as though some magnetic influence attracted each to
+each, they were to be found constantly together. Neither of them was a
+girl to indulge in gushing sentimentality; but Grace, whose refined
+intellectual nature had hitherto met with no response except from her
+brother, perceived at once Phillis's innate superiority and clear
+generous temperament. For the first time she felt feminine friendship
+a possibility, and hailed it as a new-found joy. Nan testified her
+pleasure on more than one occasion: jealousy never found a
+resting-place in a corner of her heart.
+
+"I am so glad, Phillis," she observed, once, "that you and Grace
+Drummond like each other so much. You have never found any girl equal
+to you yet; and I was always too stupid to give you what you wanted."
+
+"Oh, Nannie, as though I would change you for a dozen Grace
+Drummonds!" returned Phillis, stanch as ever to her domestic creed,
+that there never was and never could be such another as Nan.
+
+"Oh, of course we shall always be the same to each other, you and I,"
+returned Nan, seriously, "we are such old comrades, Phil; but then I
+have Dick, and it is only fair you should have some one too;" but she
+did not understand why Phillis suddenly sighed and turned away.
+
+An amusing little incident happened to Phillis after this, which she
+greatly enjoyed. Colonel Middleton's avoidance of them had long been a
+sore point with her, as it was with Dulce.
+
+"I feel almost like that wicked Haman," she said, once, in a
+serio-comic voice, "and as if he were my Mordecai. I shall never think
+we have achieved perfect success until I have forced him to shake
+hands with me." But Nan, who cared very little about such things, only
+laughed.
+
+On Sunday morning Colonel Middleton marched up the aisle rather more
+pompously than usual, and there followed him a tall, very solemn-faced
+young man, with serious eyes that reminded them of Elizabeth.
+
+"Son Hammond," whispered Phillis, who was not always as devout as she
+ought to be; and Dulce tried hard to compose her dimples.
+
+Possibly the young officer was not as solemn as his looks, for he
+certainly paid more attention to the opposite pew than he did to his
+prayer-book; and as he walked home with his sister, Colonel Middleton
+being just then out of earshot, he questioned her rather closely on
+the subject:
+
+"Who were those girls, Elizabeth? I mean the three who were just
+opposite us with their mother. Are they visitors or residents?" Then
+Elizabeth told him very briefly their name and occupation.
+
+"Good gracious!" he returned, in a thunderstruck tone; and then all at
+once he burst out laughing, as though at a good joke:
+
+"I call that a piece of splendid pluck. Do you know, I could see in a
+moment there was something out of the common about them? They are all
+very pretty,--at least good-looking,--and I liked their quiet style of
+dress. You must introduce me to-morrow."
+
+"My dear Hammond, I can do nothing of the kind," returned Elizabeth,
+glancing round in an alarmed way. "Father has refused to have them at
+Brooklyn; and it will annoy him terribly if you were to take any
+notice of them." But to this Hammond turned a deaf ear, and, though he
+forbore to question her any further on that occasion, he had fully
+made up his mind that the introduction should take place as soon as
+possible.
+
+As it fell out, accident favored him the very next day; for, as he was
+calling with his sister, at the White House, who should be announced
+the next minute but the Misses Challoner,--Phillis and Dulce, who had
+been bidden to afternoon tea!
+
+Mrs. Cheyne kissed and welcomed them both. Then Captain Middleton was
+introduced; and they were soon chatting merrily together, to
+Elizabeth's secret amusement.
+
+Captain Middleton made himself very agreeable to the two girls, as
+Dulce observed afterwards. She had never before been so deceived in a
+man's appearance,--for he was not solemn at all; and, though the
+serious brown eyes certainly inspected them rather critically from
+time to time, he proved himself a bright amusing companion, and fully
+bore out his father's and sister's encomiums.
+
+The Middletons were easily induced to prolong their visit. Elizabeth
+felt herself a traitor to her father; but she could not refuse
+Hammond's imploring glance. And so they stayed, and all took their
+leave together.
+
+Mr. Cheyne walked down to the gate with them. He had an errand in the
+town; and he and Elizabeth walked behind the young people, talking
+them over in a low voice.
+
+Now, it so happened that Colonel Middleton was trudging down the
+Braidwood Road; and as he neared the White House he looked up, and
+there was his son walking contentedly with a Challoner girl on each
+side of him, and the three were laughing merrily.
+
+It was Dulce who saw him first.
+
+"There comes your father!" she said; and she began to blush as she
+had done on the day when he had left her at the gate of Brooklyn,
+talking to Elizabeth.
+
+Hammond proved himself quite worthy of the occasion.
+
+"Well met, father," he called out, cheerily, "We seem all going one
+way. I suppose no one needs any introduction? Of course you know my
+father, Miss Challoner?"
+
+Then the colonel threw down his arms. He had fought very bravely on
+his son's behalf; but, after all his labors, his bristling defences
+and skilful retreats, Hammond had of his own free will delivered
+himself into the hands of the Philistines. What was the use of
+guarding an empty citadel?--his treasure was already in the enemy's
+grasp.
+
+All this was written on the colonel's lugubrious face as he bowed
+stiffly and walked in sorrowful silence beside them, shaking his white
+head at intervals; but no one but Dulce took any notice of his sombre
+mood.
+
+Dulce was very timid by nature. She was the least outspoken of the
+three, and always kept in the background, like a modest little flower
+that loved the shade; but she was very soft-hearted, and had great
+regard for people's feelings. And the old man's downcast looks pained
+her; for how was she to know that he was secretly pleased at this
+meeting?
+
+"I hope--I wish--you did not mind knowing us so much. But it has not
+been our fault this afternoon," sighed Dulce, stammering and blushing
+over her words. "You will believe that, will you not, Colonel
+Middleton?"
+
+If a cannon shot had been fired into the old warrior's ear, he could
+hardly have started more than he did at these childish words. He
+looked round. There was the little girl, looking up at him with the
+innocent eyes he remembered so well, and her mouth puckered a little
+as though she wanted to cry.
+
+This was more than any man could bear, even if he had a harder heart
+than Colonel Middleton.
+
+"My dear," he said, taking the little hand, "I have always wanted to
+know you; Elizabeth will tell you that. I lost my heart to your
+sisters the first day I saw them. I am sure we shall be good friends
+in time, if you will forgive an old man's pride." And then he patted
+her hand as though she had been an infant.
+
+When Mr. Drummond sat down to dinner that evening, he astonished
+Mattie very much by saying,--
+
+"You can ask the Middletons, after all, for your tea-party, if you
+like, Mattie. What wonderful sight do you think I saw just now? Why,
+the colonel himself coming out from the Friary, and all the three
+girls were round him, chattering as though they had known him all
+their life; and I am pretty sure that in spite of the dark, I saw 'son
+Hammond' behind him." And Mattie, glad of the permission, gave the
+invitation the next day.
+
+Mattie grew a little alarmed as the evening approached. It was her
+first party and she knew Archie would be critical; but Grace proved
+herself a useful ally.
+
+In spite of her efforts to keep in the background and leave Mattie in
+her position as mistress of her brother's house, she felt herself
+becoming insensibly its presiding spirit.
+
+Archie was tolerably good-natured to Mattie; but the habits of a
+lifetime were too strong for him, and he still snubbed and repressed
+her at intervals. Mattie felt herself of no importance now that Grace
+had come: her duties were usurped before her eyes. Archie made a fresh
+demand on her forbearance every day.
+
+"Why cannot you keep to the housekeeping, and let Grace do the schools
+and visitings?" he said, once. "It must come to her by and by, when
+you are gone; and I want her to begin as soon as possible. It will not
+do to let her think she has come too soon," implying that good taste
+should lead Mattie to resign of her own account.
+
+Poor Mattie! she had many a good cry in secret before that Tuesday.
+She could hardly help feeling pained to see how all-in-all those two
+were to each other, and the glad eagerness Grace threw into her work,
+knowing the reward of commendation she would reap. "It must be so
+strange never to be snubbed or scolded,--to do everything right,"
+Mattie thought.
+
+Grace felt very sorry for her, and petted her a good deal. The dark
+little face had always a pained wistfulness on it now that touched
+her. She spoke kindly of Mattie to her brother on all possible
+occasions.
+
+"I think Mattie is so generous in giving up to me as she does," she
+observed, as Archie joined her in the drawing-room in expectation of
+their guests. Mattie had not yet made her appearance. She had been
+lighting the wax candles and trimming a refractory lamp that refused
+to burn, and had just run past her brother with blackened fingers and
+hot, tired face.
+
+"Oh, yes, she is good enough," he returned, indifferently, as he
+straightened a crooked candle; "but I wish she would not always be
+late. She has not begun to dress, and it is the time we appointed for
+the Challoners to come. Of all things I hate unpunctuality and fuss,
+and Mattie is always so fussy."
+
+Grace's conscience pricked her. "I am afraid I left her too much to
+do," she said, penitently. "Phillis asked me to go for a walk with
+them; but I ought not to have left her. I will go and help her now."
+
+But Archie objected:
+
+"No, no; let her be. You must not leave me alone to receive them. How
+nice you look in that cream-colored dress, Grace! I thought it would
+suit you." But, though his eyes rested on her as he spoke, he seemed
+rather absent. And when the door-bell rang a moment afterwards, a
+sudden flush came to his face.
+
+It was very odd to feel that he was receiving Nan as his guest. He
+had dreaded the ordeal greatly, but after the first moment it was not
+so bad. Grace, who had her suspicions and watched them closely, had
+them verified without doubt during the moment that followed the
+Challoners' entrance; but no other eyes but hers would have read
+anything amiss in the young vicar's gravely composed face.
+
+Nan, who was looking beautiful, met him with her usual
+unconsciousness: though neither of them knew it, it was this very
+unconsciousness that was fast healing the wound. One cannot mourn long
+after a lost dream, and there had never been any reality in it. Not
+one of Nan's thoughts had ever belonged to him for a moment: his
+existence, his individuality had never grazed the outer edge of her
+susceptibilities. Dick had encased her from childhood in armor of
+proof against all manhood. Archie felt this even as he touched her
+hand, and his lips gave her welcome.
+
+"I am so sorry your mother could not come," he said, politely. And
+then he turned to Phillis, who was regarding him with an odd, dubious
+look.
+
+Archie felt the look, and his spirit rose in instant opposition.
+
+"Do you know the Middletons are to be here, after all?" he said,
+moving a little into the background, for this girl had keen vision,
+and, as of old, her sympathy moved him strangely.
+
+"Oh, then we shall be quite a party," she returned, brightly. "It
+seems ages since we have been at one, and I feel disposed to enjoy
+myself. The very sight of wax candles is exhilarating. I am half
+afraid to touch coffee, for fear it will get into my head. And how
+sweet Grace looks in that dress!"
+
+"Your _chef-d'oeuvre_!" he replied, rather wickedly.
+
+"Oh, yes, I recognize my handiwork," returned Phillis, nonchalantly.
+"I am quite as proud of it as an artist would be of a picture. Here
+comes Mattie; poor little thing! she seems tired, but she looks nice,
+too."
+
+Archie moved away after this, for the Middletons were announced; but
+he thought as he left her that he had never seen her look so handsome.
+Nan's beauty had so blinded him that he had hardly been aware what a
+charming face Phillis really had: when she was pleased or excited she
+lighted up quite radiantly.
+
+"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Mattie, fussily coming up at that moment. "I
+don't know what has become of your cousin; but Captain Middleton says
+all the trains have been snowed up."
+
+"If the train he is in has been snowed up, of course we must not
+expect to see him this evening," was Phillis's laughing reply. "Never
+mind; I dare say we shall all survive it; though Harry is such a good
+fellow, and I am immensely fond of him."
+
+"Oh, but the tea and coffee will be spoiled. I must go and pour it out
+now. Look, Grace is making signs to me."
+
+"Shall I come and help you?" was the ready response. "What a pretty
+little tea-table, Mattie, and how charmingly snug it looks in the
+bay-window! The gentlemen will wait on us, of course. I like this way
+better than servants handing round lukewarm cups from the kitchen: it
+is not so grand, but it is cosier. Was it your arrangement, Mattie?"
+
+"Oh, yes," returned Mattie, in a disconsolate tone, as she took her
+place. "But, Phillis, are you really not anxious about your cousin? It
+is so dreadful to think of him snowed up all night, with nothing to
+eat and drink!"
+
+Phillis laughed outright at this.
+
+"My imagination will not conjure up such horrors. I believe Harry is
+at this moment sitting in the hotel discussing a good dinner before a
+blazing fire." And, as Mattie looked injured at this, she continued,
+still more merrily: "My dear, are you such an ignoramus as to believe
+that any amount of wax candles and charming women will induce an
+Englishman to forego his dinner? He will come by and by; and if he
+gets cold coffee, he will have his deserts." And then Mattie's anxious
+face grew more cheerful.
+
+The tea-table became the nucleus of the whole room before long. Even
+Mr. Frere, a tall scholarly-looking man, with spectacles and a very
+bald head, though he was still young, seemed drawn magnetically into
+the circle that closed round Phillis. The girl was so natural and
+sprightly, there was such buoyancy and brightness in her manner; and
+yet no man could ever have taken a liberty with her, or mistaken the
+source of that pure rippling fun. The light jesting tone, the
+unembarrassed manner, were as free from consciousness as though there
+were gray-headed dons round her. And yet, alas for Phillis! there was
+not a word uttered in a certain voice that did not reach her ear
+somehow; not a movement that was lost upon her, even when she chatted
+and laughed with those who stood round her.
+
+Colonel Middleton was stanch to his little favorite, and sat on the
+couch between her and Grace, while Nan and Miss Middleton talked
+apart. Nan watched the tea-table smilingly. She did so love to see
+Phillis happy; it never occurred to her to feel herself a little
+neglected, or to wonder why the grave young master of the house so
+seldom addressed her: thoughts of this sort never entered Nan's head.
+
+But she grew a little silent by and by, and began to answer Elizabeth
+somewhat absently. She did not know what it meant, but a certain
+strong longing took possession of her,--a sort of craving to see
+Dick's face and hear his voice. It was foolish, of course; and then
+she roused herself with difficulty.
+
+"How late Harry is! I wonder if the train be really snowed up! Oh,
+that must be he!" as the door-bell sounded. "Mattie will be glad; she
+was so afraid the coffee would be cold." For Mattie had poured this
+grievance into every one's ears.
+
+Of course it was Sir Harry. Yes, as the door opened, there were the
+broad, genial face and the massive shoulders that could only belong
+to one person. And who was this young man following him,--a somewhat
+insignificant young man compared to this son of Anak,--a young man
+with sandy hair, with a trivial moustache, with a free, careless
+expression of good-nature that seemed somehow stamped on his
+features?
+
+Nan did not speak or move in her corner; but she locked her hands
+together tightly, and a most wonderful blush came to her face; for the
+young man's eyes had moved quickly round the room, with an eager
+expression in them, and had just rested upon her.
+
+Nan sat immovable while Sir Harry, gave the necessary introduction in
+his loud, jovial voice:
+
+"I am sorry to be late,--I am, 'pon my honor, Miss Mattie! but it
+could not be helped: could it, Mayne? Mr. Drummond, I have taken the
+liberty to bring a friend with me; he is my guest at present,--Mr.
+Richard Mayne. He has come down to Hadleigh to see some old
+acquaintances of his."
+
+"Dick! Oh, Dick!" the words would come out now. Miss Middleton had
+judiciously vacated the corner of the couch, and Dick had boldly
+placed himself there instead, after first touching Nan's trembling
+hand. "What does it mean? Why have you startled me so?" she whispered,
+for they were in a snug corner, and no one was near them.
+
+"I suppose a man has a right to come and look after his own
+belongings?" returned Dick, in the coolest possible manner. But his
+eyes were more eloquent than his words, as usual. "How lovely you are
+looking, Nan! I do believe you grow prettier every day. And are you
+glad to see me?--half or a quarter as glad as I am to see you?"
+
+"I was thinking of you," she returned, softly. "I was wondering what
+you were doing, and picturing you at Longmead; and then the door
+opened, and there you were, half hidden by Harry; and I thought I was
+dreaming."
+
+"Well, that was transmission of thought, don't you see?--animal
+magnetism, and all that sort of thing. You thought of me because I was
+thinking of you; but you did not know that only the door divided us.
+Oh, Nan! isn't it awfully jolly to be together again?"
+
+"Yes; but I don't understand it yet," she replied. "Have you come
+without your father's permission, Dick? Are you sure he will not be
+very angry?"
+
+"Oh, no; the pater is all right. Sir Harry--what a brick that fellow
+is!--has talked him over, and he has given his consent to our
+engagement. Look here, Nan! what you have got to do is to pack up your
+things, and I am to take you down to-morrow. This is a note from
+mother, and you will see what she says." And Nan's gloved hand closed
+eagerly upon the precious missive.
+
+The letter could not be read just then. Nan sent Dick away after that,
+though he would willingly have remained in his corner during the
+remainder of the evening. He went off grumbling, to be civil to his
+hostess, and Nan remained behind trying to calm herself. It was "all
+right," Dick had told her. She was to go down with him the next day to
+dear Longmead. Were their troubles really over? Well, she would hear
+all about it to-morrow. She must wait patiently until then.
+
+Nan did not long remain alone. Archie, who had watched this little
+scene from the bay-window, suddenly took his opportunity and crossed
+the room.
+
+Nan looked up at him with a happy smile.
+
+"You have had a surprise this evening, have you not, Miss Challoner?
+Sir Harry has just been telling me all about it. You will permit me
+now to offer my congratulations?"
+
+"Most certainly, Mr. Drummond."
+
+"I am so glad, for both your sakes, that things should be so
+comfortably settled," he went on, placing himself beside her,--a
+movement that mightily displeased Dick, who had conceived a dislike to
+the handsome parson from the first. "A parent's opposition is always a
+serious drawback in such cases; but Sir Harry tells me that Mr. Mayne
+has given his full consent."
+
+"I believe so," returned Nan, blushing a little; "but I really hardly
+know any particulars. It is such a surprise to me altogether; but his
+mother has written to me, and I am expected down there."
+
+"You have my warmest wishes for your happiness," continued Archie,
+gravely; and then Nan thanked him.
+
+But here Dick interrupted them. He was still new to his _role_, and
+hardly had the assurance that belongs to the engaged man, who feels
+himself safely steering towards the desired haven of matrimony. It
+appeared to him that on this evening he ought not to lose sight of Nan
+for a moment. To see Mr. Drummond taking his place was too much for
+him, and he put down his untasted coffee.
+
+"I am afraid it is rather cold," observed Mattie, anxiously; but she
+spoke to deaf ears.
+
+Dick was already half-way to the corner. Nan received him a little
+shyly; but Mr. Drummond at once took the hint.
+
+"Oh, Dick, people will notice! you must take care," remonstrated Nan.
+
+She was preparing one of those gentle little lectures to which she
+sometimes treated him, and to which he was wont to listen with the
+utmost submission; but, to her intense surprise, he turned restive.
+
+"That was all very well when things were not settled between us,"
+observed Dick, decidedly. "Now we are engaged, of course I shall
+assert my rights publicly. What does it matter if people notice? They
+will only think what a lucky fellow I am, and how they would like to
+be in my place. Do you think I was going to remain at the other end of
+the room while that parson was talking to you?" And then Nan all at
+once discovered that, in spite of Dick's boyish looks and easy
+temper, she had found her master,--that, like other men, he was
+capable of jealousy and insisted on an entire and undivided
+allegiance.
+
+Nan was weak enough to like him all the better for this little touch
+of tyranny; and, after all, though she felt it a little hard on Mr.
+Drummond, who was so harmless and good-natured, the sense of this
+monopoly was very sweet to her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI.
+
+A NEW INVASION OF THE GOTHS.
+
+
+It was the most successful evening--every one said so; but, somehow,
+Mattie had not enjoyed it. She supposed she was tired; that lamp had
+worried her; but, though every one had been very pleasant, and had
+said nice things to her,--even that formidable Mr. Frere,--Mattie felt
+something had been lacking. She had been very pleased to see Sir
+Harry, and he had come up to her at once and spoken to her in his
+usual genial manner; but after the first few minutes, during which he
+had drunk his coffee standing beside her, she did not remember that he
+had again addressed her. After that, he had made his way to Grace, and
+did not stir for a long time.
+
+Mattie had Colonel Middleton on her hands then; but her eyes would
+stray to that part of the room. How pretty Grace looked in that soft
+creamy dress, with the dainty lace ruffles that Archie had sent her!
+Her face generally wanted color and animation, but to-night she was
+quite rosy by comparison. She seemed to find Sir Harry amusing, for
+she looked up at him very brightly. And then Archie joined them: he
+would not be _de trop_ there, he knew. And the three talked as though
+they never meant to leave off.
+
+When Sir Harry came to take his leave, he said, a little abruptly,--
+
+"I like that sister of yours, Miss Mattie. She is sensible for a girl;
+and yet she knows how to laugh. Clever girls are generally a little
+priggish, do you know? But one need not be afraid of Miss Grace." And
+Mattie knew that from Sir Harry this was high praise.
+
+"Every one likes Grace," she faltered.
+
+"I am not surprised at that," was the ready response; and then he
+shook hands and thanked her for the pleasant evening. He did not even
+look at her as he spoke, Mattie remembered afterwards: he was watching
+Nan, who was smiling on Dick's arm.
+
+The young vicar stood bare-headed on the snowy door-step, as his
+guests merrily trooped out together. Dick and Nan came first: Nan had
+a scarlet hood over her bright hair, and Dick was grumbling over the
+lightness of her cloak, and was wrapping his gray overcoat round her.
+
+"Nonsense, Nan! I insist upon it! and you know nothing gives me cold!"
+Dick was saying, in his authoritative way; and then of course Nan
+yielded.
+
+"'Oh, wert thou in the cauld blast,'" sang Phillis, mockingly, who was
+following them under Captain Middleton's escort. "Don't you think
+engaged people are sometimes very masterful?" She spoke, of course, to
+her companion; but he had turned to warn his father and Dulce of an
+awkward step, and Archie intercepted the sentence:
+
+"Most men are masterful, Miss Challoner. You will find that out some
+day for yourself." He meant nothing by this little speech, and he was
+rather taken aback by the sudden hot blush that came to the girl's
+face, and the almost angry light in her eyes, as she turned away from
+him and ran down the slippery steps, to Captain Middleton's alarm.
+
+"'On yonder lea, on yonder lea,'" they heard her humming gayly; and
+Hammond caught the refrain, and finished it in a fine manly bass,
+while Archie stood still under the wintry sky. Why had she looked like
+that at him? What was there in his lightly-uttered speech to offend
+her?
+
+Grace was standing alone when he re-entered the drawing-room. Most of
+the wax candles were extinguished, but the soft glow of the firelight
+irradiated the farthest corner of the room.
+
+"What a glorious fire!" he said, warming his chilly hands at it, and
+then throwing himself into the easy-chair that Grace silently placed
+for him. "And where is Mattie? Really, she did very well to-night."
+
+"You must tell her to-morrow, she will be so pleased; she seems tired,
+and her head aches, so I advised her to go to bed." And, though Archie
+did not say openly that he approved of this sensible advice, he
+implied it by the way he drew a low chair forward for Grace,--so close
+beside him that she could rest her arm upon the cushioned elbow of
+his.
+
+They remained comfortably silent for along time: it was Grace who
+spoke first.
+
+"Archie," she said, rather nervously, but her eyes had a settled
+purpose in them, "shall you be angry if I disobey you, dear, and speak
+again on a certain subject?"
+
+"What subject?" he asked, rather surprised by her manner. He had not a
+notion to what she was referring; he did not know how during that long
+silence their thoughts had been couching the same point, and that all
+this time she was seeking courage to speak to him.
+
+"I know your secret, Archie; I discovered it to-night."
+
+"My secret!" he returned, in utter amazement. "I have no secret,
+Gracie." And then, as he caught her meaning, a cloud came to his brow.
+"But this is nonsense!" he continued harshly,--"pure nonsense; put it
+out of your head."
+
+"I saw it to-night," she went on, in a very low voice, undisturbed by
+his evident displeasure. "She is good and sweet, and quite lovely,
+Archie, and that young man is not half worthy of her; but she has no
+thought but for him."
+
+"Do you think I do not know that?" he returned, in an exasperated
+tone. "Grace, I will not have you talk in this way. I am cured,--quite
+cured: it was nothing but a passing folly."
+
+"A folly that made you very unhappy, my poor Archie; but--hush! you
+must not interrupt me--I am not going to talk about her."
+
+"Oh, that is well," he returned, in a relieved tone.
+
+"I was sorry--just a little sorry--at first, because I knew how much
+it had cost you; but this evening I could have found it in my heart to
+be angry with you,--yes, even with you. 'Oh, the blindness of these
+men!' I thought: 'why will they trample on their own happiness?'"
+
+"Are you speaking of me?" he asked, in a bewildered tone.
+
+"Of whom should I be speaking?" she answered; and her voice had a
+peculiar meaning in it. "You are my dear brother,--my dearest brother;
+but you are no more sensible than other men."
+
+"I suppose not," he returned, staring at her; "I suppose not."
+
+"Many men have done what you are doing," she went on, quietly. "Many
+have wanted what belonged to another, and have turned their backs upon
+the blessing that might have been theirs. It is the game of
+cross-purposes. Do you remember that picture, Archie,--the lovely
+print you longed to buy--the two girls and the two men? There was the
+pretty demure maiden in front, and at the back a girl with a far
+sweeter face to my mind, watching the gloomy-looking fellow who is
+regarding his divinity from afar. There was a face here to-night that
+brought that second girl strongly to my mind; and I caught an
+expression on it once----" Here Archie violently started.
+
+"Hush! hush! what are you implying? Grace, you are romancing; you do
+not mean this?"
+
+"As there is a heaven above us, I do mean it, Archie."
+
+"Then, for God's sake, not another word!" And then he rose from his
+seat, and stood on the rug.
+
+"You are not really angry with me?" she urged, frightened at his
+vehemence.
+
+"No; I am not angry. I never am angry with you, Grace, as you know;
+but all the same there are some things that never should be said."
+And, when he had thus gravely rebuked her speech, he kissed her
+forehead, and muttering some excuse about the lateness of the hour,
+left the room.
+
+Grace crept away to her chamber a little discomfited by this rebuff,
+gently as it had been given; but if she had only guessed the commotion
+those few hinted words had raised in her brother's mind!
+
+He had understood her; in one moment he had understood her. As though
+by a lightning-flash of intelligence, the truth had dawned upon him;
+and if an electric shock had passed through his frame and set all his
+nerves tingling he could not have been more deeply shaken.
+
+Was that what she thought, too, when she had turned away from him with
+that quiet look of scorn on her face! Did she know of any possible
+blessing that might have been his, only that he had turned his back
+upon it, crying out childishly for a shadowy happiness? Did she mutter
+to herself also, "Oh, the blindness of these men!"?
+
+There is an old saying, greatly credited by the generality of people,
+that hearts are often caught at the rebound,--that in their painful
+tossings from uneven heights and depths, and that sad swinging over
+uncertain abysses, some are suddenly attracted and held fast; and
+there is sufficient proof to warrant the truth of this adage.
+
+The measurements of pain are unequal: different natures hold different
+capacities. A trouble that seems very real at the time, and full of
+stings, may be found later on to be largely alloyed by wounded
+self-love and frustrated vanity. Sound it with the plumb-line of
+experience, of time, of wakening hopefulness, and it may sink fathoms,
+and by and by end in nothingness, or perhaps more truly in just a
+sense of salt bitterness between the teeth, as when one plunges in a
+waning tide.
+
+Not that Archie realized all this as he paced his room that night: no;
+he was very strangely moved and excited. Something, he knew not what,
+had again stirred the monotony of his life. He had been sick and sad
+for a long time; for men are like children, and fret sometimes after
+the unattainable, if their hearts be set upon it. And yet, though he
+forbore to question himself too closely that night, how much of his
+pain had been due to wounded vanity and crossed wilfulness!
+
+It was long before he could sleep, for the sudden broadening of the
+prospective of his future kept him wide awake and restless. It was as
+though he had been straining his eyes to look down a long, gray vista,
+where he saw things dimly, and that suddenly there was a low light on
+the horizon,--not brilliant, not even clear; but it spoke of
+approaching daybreak. By and by the path would be more plainly
+visible.
+
+There was great excitement at the Friary on the next day. They had
+found it hard to get rid of Dick the previous night; but Sir Harry,
+who read his aunt's tired face rightly, had carried him off almost by
+sheer force, after a lengthy leave-taking with Nan in the passage.
+
+It was only Mrs. Challoner who was tired. Poor woman! she was fairly
+worn out by the violence of her conflicting feeling,--by sympathy with
+Nan in her happiness, with pleasure in Dick's demonstrative joy, and
+sorrow at the thought of losing her child. The girl herself was far
+too much excited for sleep.
+
+She and Phillis did all the packing for the next day, and it was not
+until Dulce sleepily warned them of the lateness of the hour that they
+consented to separate; and then Nan sat by the parlor fire a long time
+alone, enjoying the luxury of undisturbed meditation.
+
+But the next morning, just as they had gone into the work-room,--not
+to settle to any business,--that was impossible under the present
+exciting circumstances,--but just to fold up and despatch a gown that
+had been finished for Mrs. Squails, while Dulce put the
+finishing-touches to Mrs. Cheyne's tweed dress, Nan announced in a
+glad voice that their cousin and Dick were at the gate; "and I am so
+thankful we packed last night," she continued, "for Dick will not let
+me have a free moment until we start."
+
+"You should keep him in better order," observed Phillis, tersely: "if
+you give him his own way so much, you will not have a will of your own
+when you are married: will she, mother?" Mrs. Challoner smiled a
+little feebly in answer to this: she could not remember the time when
+she had had a will of her own.
+
+Nan went out shyly to meet them; but she could not understand her
+reception at all. Dick's grasp of her hand was sufficiently eloquent,
+but he said nothing; and Nan thought he was trying not to laugh, for
+there was a gleam of fun in his eyes, though he endeavored to look
+solemn. Sir Harry's face, too, wore an expression of portentous
+gravity.
+
+"Are you all in the work-room, Nan?" he asked, in a tone as though
+they were assembled at a funeral.
+
+"Yes; mother and all," answered Nan, brightly. "What is the matter
+with you both? You look dreadfully solemn."
+
+"Because we have a little business before us," returned Sir Harry,
+wrinkling his brows and frowning at Dick. "Come, Mayne, if you are
+ready."
+
+"Wait a minute, Nan. I will speak to you afterwards," observed that
+young gentleman, divesting himself of his gray overcoat; and Nan, very
+much puzzled, preceded them into the room.
+
+"How do you do, Aunt Catherine? Good-morning, girls," nodded Sir
+Harry; and then he looked at Dick. And what were they both doing? Were
+they mad? They must have taken leave of their senses; for Dick had
+raised his foot gently,--very gently,--and Mrs. Squails's red merino
+gown lay in the passage. At the same moment, Sir Harry's huge hand had
+closed over the tweed, and, by a dexterous thrust, had flung it as far
+as the kitchen. And now Dick was bundling out the sewing-machine.
+
+"Dick! oh, Dick!" in an alarmed voice from Dulce. And Phillis flew to
+the great carved wardrobe, that Sir Harry was ransacking; while Nan
+vainly strove to rescue the fashion-books that Dick was now flinging
+into the fender.
+
+"Oh, you great Goth! You stupid, ridiculous Harry!" observed Phillis,
+scornfully, while the rolls of silk and satin and yards of trimming
+were tossed lightly into a heap of _debris_.
+
+Laddie was growling and choking over the buttons. Dorothy afterwards
+carried away a whole shovelful of pins and hooks and eyes.
+
+Nan sat down by her mother and folded her hands on her lap. When men
+were masterful, it was time for maidens to sit still. Dulce really
+looked frightened; but Phillis presently broke into a laugh.
+
+"This is a parable of nature," she said. "Mammie, does your head ache?
+Would you like to go into the next room?"
+
+"There, we have about done!" observed Sir Harry. "The place is pretty
+well clear: isn't it, Mayne?" And, as Dick nodded a cheerful assent,
+he shut the door of the wardrobe, locked it, and, with much solemnity,
+put the key in his pocket. "Now for my parable," he said. "Aunt
+Catherine, you will excuse a bit of a spree, but one must take the
+high hand with these girls. I have bundled out the whole lot of
+trumpery; but, as head of this family, I am not going to stand any
+more of this nonsense."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" put in Phillis. "I hope Mrs. Squails will take her
+creased gown! Dulce, the sewing-machine is right on the top of it,--a
+most improving process, certainly."
+
+"Now, Phillis, you will just shut up with your nonsense! As head of
+the family, I am not going to stand any more of this sort of thing."
+
+"What sort of thing?" asked Mrs. Challoner, timidly. "My dears, I
+thought it was only fun; but I do believe your cousin is in earnest."
+
+"I am quite in earnest, Aunt Catherine," returned Sir Harry, sitting
+down beside her, and taking her hand. "I hope our bit of larking has
+not been too much for you; but that fellow vowed it would be a good
+joke." Here Dick's eyes twinkled. "If Mrs. Squails's gown is spoiled,
+I will buy her another; but on your peril, girls, if you put a stitch
+in any but your own from this day forward!"
+
+"Please your honor, kindly," whined Phillis, dropping a courtesy, "and
+what will your honor have us do?"
+
+"Do!" and then he broke into a laugh. "Oh, I will tell you that
+presently. All I know is, Nan is engaged to my friend Mayne here; and
+I have promised his father, on my word as a gentleman and head of this
+family, that this dressmaking humbug shall be given up."
+
+"You had no right to give such a promise," returned Phillis, offended
+at this; but Nan's hand stole into Dick's. She understood now.
+
+"But, Harry, my dear," asked Mrs. Challoner, "what would you have them
+do?"
+
+"Oh, play tennis,--dance,--flirt, if they like! How do young ladies
+generally occupy their time? Don't let us talk about such petty
+details as this. I want to tell you about my new house. You all know
+Gilsbank? Well, it is 'Challoner Place' now."
+
+"You have bought it, Harry?"
+
+"Yes; I have bought it," he returned, coolly. "And what is more, I
+hope to settle down there in another month's time. How soon do you
+think you will be ready to move, Aunt Catherine?"
+
+"My dear!" in a voice of mild astonishment. But Dulce clapped her
+hands: she thought she guessed his meaning. "Are we to live with you,
+Harry? Do you really mean to take us with you?"
+
+"Of course I shall take you with me; but not to Challoner Place. That
+would be rather close quarters; and--and--I may make different
+arrangements," rather sheepishly. "Aunt Catherine, Glen Cottage will
+be all ready for you and the girls. I have settled about the
+furniture; and Mrs. Mayne will have fires lighted whenever you like to
+come down. Why, aunt,--dear Aunt Catherine," as he felt her thin hand
+tremble in his, and the tears started to her eyes, "did you not tell
+me how much you loved your old home? And do you think, when you have
+no son to take care of you, that I should ever let you be far from
+me?"
+
+"Confound you!" growled Dick. "Is not a son-in-law as good as a son
+any day."
+
+But no one heard this but Nan.
+
+Mrs. Challoner was weeping for joy, and Dulce was keeping her company;
+but Phillis walked up to her cousin with a shamefaced look:
+
+"I am sorry I called you a Goth, Harry. I ought to have remembered
+Alcides. You are as good as gold. You are a dear generous fellow. And
+I love you for it; and so do Nan and Dulce. And I was not a bit cross,
+really; but you did look such a great goose, turning out that
+wardrobe." But, though she laughed at the remembrance, the tears were
+in Phillis's eyes.
+
+Dick was nobody after this: not that he minded that. How could they
+help crowding round this "big hero" of theirs who had performed such
+wonders?
+
+Gilsbank turned into Challoner Place; Glen Cottage, with its
+conservatory and brand-new furniture, theirs again,--their own,--their
+very own (for Sir Harry intended to buy that too as soon as possible);
+Nan engaged to her dearest Dick, and all the neighborhood prepared to
+welcome them back!
+
+"If you please, Miss Phillis, Mrs. Squails desires her compliments,
+and she is waiting for her dress."
+
+We forbare to repeat Sir Harry's answer. Nevertheless, with Dick's
+help, the unfortunate gown was extricated, and privately ironed by
+Dorothy.
+
+"That is a good morning's work of yours," observed Phillis, quietly
+looking down at the heap at her feet. "Dorothy, it seems Sir Harry is
+master here. If any more orders come for us, you may as well say, 'The
+Misses Challoner have given up business.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII.
+
+"IT WAS SO GOOD OF YOU TO ASK ME HERE."
+
+
+Mrs. Challoner heaved a gentle little sigh when in the afternoon the
+fly carried off Nan and Dick to the station: it brought to her mind
+another day that would come far too soon. Phillis spoke out this
+thought boldly as she ran back to the cottage.
+
+"I wanted to throw an old shoe for luck, mammie," she said, laughing,
+"only I knew Nan would be so dreadfully shocked. How happy they
+looked! And Dick was making such a fuss over her, bringing out his
+plaid to wrap her in. Certainly he is much improved, and looks five
+years older."
+
+Perhaps Dick shared Mrs. Challoner's thought too, for an expression of
+deep gravity crossed his face as he sat down by Nan,--a look that was
+tender, and yet wistful, as he took her hand.
+
+"Oh, Nan! it does seem so nice to have you all to myself for a
+little,--just you and I, alone, and all the rest of the world outside
+somewhere! Do you know it is possible to be almost too happy!" And
+Dick sighed from the very fulness of content.
+
+Nan gave a merry little laugh at this.
+
+"Oh, no: to me it seems only natural to be happy. When things were at
+their worst I knew that they would come right some day; and I could
+not be quite miserable, even then. It was hard, of course; but when
+one is young, one ought not to mind a little waiting. And we have not
+waited long, have we, dear?" But to this Dick demurred.
+
+"It was the longest term I ever passed," he returned, seriously. "When
+a fellow is in that sort of unsettled state, one cannot measure time
+in the ordinary way. Well, the ordeal is over, thank heaven!" And then
+he paused, and continued, a little thoughtfully: "What I have to do
+now is to work hard and do my best to deserve you. I shall never be
+worthy of you, Nan; I know that."
+
+"I think you quite worthy of me," she answered, softly, and now there
+were tears in her eyes.
+
+"Oh, no; no fellow could be that," he replied, decidedly. "I am well
+enough in my way, and compared with other men I am not so bad,"
+continued Dick, who had a sufficiently good opinion of his own merits,
+in spite of the humility of his speech; "but as to coming up to you,
+Nan, by a long way, why, the thing is impossible! But I tell you this,
+it helps a fellow to keep right and steady when he believes in the
+goodness of the girl belonging to him."
+
+"You must not make me vain," she half whispered, and her lips trembled
+a little at his praise. But he disregarded this remonstrance, and went
+on:
+
+"You have kept me right all my life. How could I ever do a mean or a
+shabby action to make you ashamed of me? When I was tempted once or
+twice,--for idle young fellows will be tempted,--I used to say to
+myself, No, Nan would not approve if she knew it. And I held tight to
+this thought, and I am glad now that I can look in your dear face and
+tell you this. It makes me feel so happy." And indeed Dick's face was
+radiant.
+
+They were almost sorry when the journey was over; they had so much to
+say to each other. The wintry landscape was growing gray and
+indistinct as they reached their destination, and, though Nan peered
+anxiously into the darkness for a glimpse of each well-remembered
+spot, she could only just discern the dim outline of Glen Cottage
+before the carriage turned in at the gates of Longmead.
+
+Mr. Mayne had determined to pay his intended daughter-in-law all
+becoming honors, and as soon as the carriage wheels were heard he had
+the hall door thrown back to show the bright, welcoming light, and he
+himself descended the flight of steps to the terrace. "Just as though
+I were a royal personage," laughed Nan. But she was a little nattered
+by the compliment.
+
+Most girls would have felt the awkwardness of the situation, but not
+Nan. The moment Dick assisted her out of the carriage she walked up to
+his father, and put up her face to be kissed in the most natural way.
+"It was so good of you to ask me here; and I am so glad to come," she
+said, simply.
+
+"There, there! run in out of the cold," was all his answer; and he
+patted her hand a little awkwardly. But, though his voice had its
+usual gruffness, his manner was otherwise kind. "How are you, Dick? I
+hope Roper did not keep you waiting at the station, for you are a
+quarter of an hour behind your time." And then he took his son's arm
+and walked up the steps again.
+
+Nan, meanwhile, had run through the hall and into the warm,
+softly-lighted drawing-room, and there she soon found herself in Mrs.
+Mayne's motherly arms. When the gentlemen came in they interrupted
+quite a little scene, for Mrs. Mayne was actually crying over the
+girl, and Nan was kissing her.
+
+"Don't you think you had better stop that sort of thing, Bessie,"
+observed her husband, drily, "and get Nan a cup of tea? You would like
+some tea, my dear, would you not?" in a more gracious voice.
+
+Of course Nan said she would like some, just to show her appreciation
+of his thoughtfulness; and then Dick said he should like some too, and
+his father quizzed him a little as he rang the bell. And as Mrs. Mayne
+obediently dried her eyes at her husband's behest, they were soon very
+happy and comfortable. When Nan's cup was empty, Dick darted to take
+it, that it might be replenished; but his father was before him.
+
+All that evening Mr. Mayne waited on Nan, quite ignoring his son's
+claims. He had a special brand of champagne served that Nan had once
+said she liked; and he reminded her of this, and pressed her to
+partake of it.
+
+"This is to your health, my dear," he said, lifting his glass of port
+to his lips when the servants had withdrawn; "and to yours too, Dick."
+And then Nan blushed very becomingly, and Dick thanked him a little
+gravely.
+
+"I do think the old boy has fallen in love with you himself, for he
+has not let me come near you all the evening," whispered Dick later on
+that night, pretending to grumble, but in reality looking very happy.
+
+"He has been so good to me," returned the girl; and she repeated this
+for Mrs. Mayne's benefit, when at last the two women found themselves
+free to indulge in a little talk. Nan had coaxed her friend to sit
+beside her fire for a few minutes, and then she had knelt down beside
+her, wrapping her arms round her in the most affectionate way.
+
+"Dear, dear Mrs. Mayne, how nice all this is! and how good Mr. Mayne
+has been to me all this evening!"
+
+"My Richard never does things by halves," returned Mrs. Mayne,
+proudly. "People cannot always understand him, because his manner is a
+little rough sometimes; but I know, and none better, his real goodness
+of heart. Why, he is so pleased with himself and you and Dick this
+evening that he hardly knows how to contain himself; but he is a
+little awkward in showing it."
+
+"Oh, no; I did not think him awkward at all."
+
+"I must say you behaved beautifully, Nan, never seeming as though you
+remembered that there had been anything amiss, but just taking
+everything as he meant it. Of course I knew how you would act: I was
+not afraid that I should be disappointed."
+
+"Of course I could not do otherwise."
+
+"And Dick, too, behaved so well, keeping in the background just to
+give his father full freedom. I must say I was pleased with him, too,
+for most young men are so thoughtless; but then his behavior to his
+father has been perfect throughout."
+
+"I knew it would be," whispered Nan.
+
+"I am sure it made my heart ache to see him. Sometimes he would come
+in whistling and pretending to be his old self, so light-hearted and
+cheerful; and all the time he was fretting himself to death, as I told
+Richard. Richard was terribly trying sometimes,--you know his
+way,--but the boy bore it so well. It was not till the last, when they
+had that walk, and Dick was goaded into positive anger, that he ever
+lost his temper in the least. I will say this, Nan, that though my
+Dick may not be much to look at, he has the sweetest temper and the
+kindest heart." And so the simple woman ran on, and Nan listened, well
+pleased.
+
+When Mr. Mayne came up to his dressing-room that evening, his wife
+stole in after him, and laid her hands on his shoulder as he stood
+thoughtfully contemplating the fire.
+
+"Well, Richard, won't you own she is lovely now?"
+
+"Humph! yes; I suppose people would call her pretty," he returned, in
+his grudging way. "But I tell you what, Bessie," suddenly kindling
+into animation, "she is better than handsome; she is out and out good,
+and she will make a man of Dick."
+
+"God bless him, and her too!" whispered the mother, as she withdrew
+softly, but not before she caught the sound of an "Amen" uttered
+distinctly in her husband's voice.
+
+Nan made Dick take her to all their old haunts the next morning; but
+first of all they went to Glen Cottage. Nan ran through all the rooms
+with almost a child's glee: nothing could exceed her delight when Dick
+showed her the drawing-room, with the new conservatory opening out of
+it.
+
+"It always was a pretty room," she said, glancing round her; "but the
+conservatory and the new furniture have quite transformed it. How
+charmed mother and the girls will be! The whole house looks better
+than when we were in it."
+
+"Nonsense!" returned Dick, stoutly. "There never was a house to
+compare with it. I always loved it; and so did you, Nan. What a summer
+we shall have here, when I am reading up for honors in the long
+vacation! I mean to work pretty hard; for when a fellow has such an
+object as that----" And then he looked at Nan meaningly; but she was
+not to be beguiled into that subject.
+
+They were so happy, and so young, that they could afford to wait a
+little; and she did not wish Dick to speak yet of that day that was
+looming in the distance.
+
+She could only be sure of one summer at Glen Cottage; but what a time
+they would have! She stood for a long while looking out on the lawn
+and calling up possible visions of summer afternoons. The
+tennis-ground was marked out already in her imagination; the tea-table
+in its old place under the trees; there was her mother knitting in her
+favorite wicker-chair; there were Dulce and Phillis, surrounded by
+their friends
+
+"Come away, Nan. Are you moon-struck, or dreaming?" questioned Dick,
+drawing her arm through his. "Do you remember what we have to do
+before luncheon? And Vigo looks so impatient for his run." But even
+Dick paused for a moment in the veranda to show Nan the rose she had
+picked for him just there, and which still lay in his pocket-book.
+
+All her old friends crowded round Nan to welcome her back; and great
+were the rejoicings when they heard that Glen Cottage was to be in the
+Challoners' possession again. Carrie Paine and Adelaide Sartoris
+called first. Carrie embraced Nan with tearful effusion: she was an
+honest, warm-hearted creature. But Adelaide looked at her a little
+curiously.
+
+"Oh, my dear, the scandal that has been talked about you all!" she
+said, in a mysterious tone. "Carrie and I would not believe it: would
+we, Car? We told people to hold their tongues, and not talk such
+nonsense."
+
+"Never mind that now, Addie," returned Nan, cheerfully. She felt she
+must be careful of what she said, for Dick's sake. "We have had our
+worries, and have worked as better people have before us; but now it
+is all over."
+
+"But is it true that your cousin, Sir Henry Challoner, has bought
+Gilsbank?" broke in Carrie. "Tell us about him, dear. Addie thought
+she saw him once. Is he a tall man, with red hair?"
+
+"Very red hair," responded Nan, laughing.
+
+"Then I did see him," replied Miss Sartoris, decidedly. "He is quite a
+giant, Nan; but he looks very good-natured."
+
+Miss Sartoris was just engaged to a dapper little colonel in the
+Hussars, so she could afford to be quizzical on the subject of Sir
+Harry's inches; but Carrie, who was at present unattached, was a
+little curious about the future master of Gilsbank.
+
+After this, Nan called at Fitzroy Lodge, and Dick went with her. Lady
+Fitzroy, who was looking very pretty and delicate, welcomed Nan with
+the greatest kindness. When Lord Fitzroy came in with the rest of the
+gentlemen from hunting, he questioned Nan very closely about their new
+neighbor, Sir Henry Challoner, and made a great many kind inquiries
+after his favorite, Miss Phillis.
+
+"So we are to have you all back, eh," he queried, pleasantly. "Well, I
+call that good news. I am bound that Evelyn is as pleased to hear it
+as I am."
+
+"I am very much pleased," returned Lady Fitzroy graciously. "And you
+must tell your mother so, with my love. Percival, will you ring for
+some more hot water, please? I shall not be long: but I am going to
+take Miss Challoner upstairs to see our boy."
+
+Nan knew that a great privilege was being conferred on her as she
+followed Lady Fitzroy into the grand nursery, where the tiny heir lay
+in his bassinette.
+
+"Is he not just like Fitzroy?" exclaimed the proud young mother, as
+they stood looking down on the red crumpled features of the new-comer.
+"Nurse says she has never seen such a striking likeness."
+
+"He is a darling!" exclaimed Nan, who was, like other girls, a devout
+baby-worshipper; and then they discoursed very eloquently on his
+infantile beauties.
+
+It was after this that Lady Fitzroy congratulated Nan on her
+engagement, and kissed her in quite a sisterly way.
+
+"Fitzroy and I do not think him half good enough for you," she said,
+very prettily. "But no one who knows Mr. Mayne can fail to like him,
+he is so thoroughly genuine and nice. Will the engagement be a long
+one, Miss Challoner?"
+
+"Not so very long," Nan returned, blushing. "Dick has to read for
+honors; but, when he has taken his degree, his father has promised to
+make things straight for us, while Dick reads for the bar."
+
+"He is to be a barrister, then?" asked Lady Fitzroy, in surprise. "You
+must not think me inquisitive, but I thought Mr. Mayne was so very
+well off."
+
+"So he is," replied Nan, smiling,--"quite rich, I believe; but Dick
+would not like an idle life, and during his father's lifetime he can
+only expect a moderate income."
+
+"You will live in London, then?"
+
+"Oh, yes; I suppose so;" was Nan's answer. "But we have not talked
+much about that yet. Dick must work hard for another year, and after
+that I believe things are to be settled." And then Lady Fitzroy kissed
+her again, and they went downstairs.
+
+Nan wrote home that she was _feted_ like a queen, and that Dick
+grumbled sadly at having her so little to himself; but then Dick was
+much given to that sort of good-natured grumbling.
+
+The visit was necessarily a very brief one, as term-time was
+approaching, and Dick had to go up to Oxford. On the last morning he
+took Nan for a walk down to Sandy Lane. Vigo and the other dogs were
+with them, and at the point where the four roads met, Dick stopped and
+leaned his arms over a gate.
+
+"It will seem a long time to Easter, Nan," he said, rather
+lugubriously.
+
+"Oh, no," she replied brightly to this; "you will have my
+letters,--such long ones, Dick,--and you know Mr. Mayne has promised
+to bring Phillis and me down for a couple of days. We are to stay at
+the Randolph, and of course we shall have afternoon tea in your
+rooms."
+
+"Yes; I will ask Hamilton and some of the other fellows to meet you. I
+want all my friends to see you, Nan." And as Dick thought of the glory
+of this introduction, and of the envy of Hamilton and the other
+fellows, his brow cleared and his old spirits returned.
+
+"I shall think of nothing but my work and those letters, Nan," were
+his last words. "I am determined that next summer shall see you my
+wife." His voice dropped over the last word almost shyly; but Nan saw
+a great brightness come into his eyes.
+
+"You must not work too hard," was all her answer to this, as she moved
+gently away from him. But her heart beat a little faster at his words.
+No; she would only have another summer at Glen Cottage. She knew that,
+and then the new life would lie before them, which she and Dick were
+to live together.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII.
+
+MRS. SPARSIT'S POODLE.
+
+
+While Nan was being _feted_ and petted at Longmead, Mattie's visit was
+dragging heavily to its close. Since the evening of the tea-party
+things had been more unsatisfactory than ever.
+
+Archie and Grace were a good deal out. Grace was perpetually at the
+Friary, and Archie had resumed his old habit of dropping in there for
+a morning or evening chat. Sir Harry came almost daily, and often
+spent his disengaged hours with them; but Mattie never saw him for a
+moment alone. Grace was always in the room, and his conversation was
+chiefly addressed to her. When Mattie dropped sadly out of the talk,
+or sat silent in her corner, he did not in his old kind fashion try to
+include her in the conversation: indeed, he rarely noticed her, except
+in his brief leave-taking. It hurt Mattie inexpressibly to be thus
+ignored by her old friend, for from the first his cordiality had had a
+sunshiny influence over her,--he had been so good to her, so
+thoughtful for her comfort, before Grace came; but now he seemed to
+forget sometimes that such a person as Mattie even existed. Was it
+because Grace's fair, serious face had bewitched him, or was there
+anything on his mind? for more than once Mattie thought he seemed
+absent and ill at ease.
+
+Mattie could not understand it at all. She was not a very acute little
+person, neither was she over-sensitive by nature, but this sudden
+coldness on Sir Harry's part was wounding and perplexing in the
+extreme. Had she done anything to offend him? Mattie wondered, or was
+he simply bored by her as most people were?
+
+Once Archie had snubbed her very severely in his presence; something
+had put him out, and he had spoken to Mattie as though no one were
+present but their two selves. It was Grace who called him so gently to
+order, and made him feel ashamed of himself. Sir Harry did not even
+seem to notice it: he had a paper in his hand, and he went on reading
+it. But as Mattie left the room she heard him speaking to Grace in
+his usual way about some political question or other.
+
+Mattie cried bitterly in her room that day. Somehow, she had never
+taken Archie's snubbing so much to heart before. How could he speak to
+her like that, she thought? What would Sir Harry think of her, and of
+him too? Archie's conscience pricked him when he saw the traces of
+tears on Mattie's face that afternoon, and he was very kind to her all
+the remainder of the day; but he did not apologize for his words: no
+one ever did apologize to Mattie. But to his surprise, and Grace's
+too, Mattie's sad face did not clear.
+
+It was her last afternoon but one at the vicarage, and Mattie was
+sitting alone. All the morning she and Grace had been packing
+together, for Grace, in her sensible way, had begged her sister not to
+leave things for the last day. It would tire her for her journey, she
+said; and the Challoners were coming to spend Mattie's last evening
+with her at the vicarage; and there were the Middletons probably
+coming for an afternoon visit, and so Mattie had better keep herself
+free for her friends. Mattie had assented to this, and she had been
+very grateful to Grace for all the help she had given her. Her boxes
+were ready for cording, and her little parting gifts for the servants
+laid ready labelled in her drawers, and nothing remained for her busy
+hands to do.
+
+It was a cold, cheerless afternoon; a cutting north wind and a gray
+cloudy sky made the fireside all the more tempting by comparison; but
+Mattie knew there was one duty unfulfilled that she ought to perform.
+She had promised to call and say good-bye to an old acquaintance of
+hers who lived at Rock Building.
+
+Mrs. Chamberlain was not a favorite with most people: she was an
+invalid of somewhat uncertain temper, and most of her friends felt her
+society an infliction on their patience. Mattie, who was very
+good-natured, had often done kindly little offices for her, sitting
+with her for an hour or two at a time, and teaching her some new
+stitch, to beguile her tedious and often painful days.
+
+Mrs. Chamberlain would feel herself aggrieved if Mattie disappointed
+her. And she never had stayed at home for the weather; only she was
+lazy,--tired, perhaps, from her packing,--and reluctant to move.
+
+Sir Harry was in the study, she knew: she had heard his voice some
+time ago. He often turned in there of his own accord or perhaps Archie
+had waylaid him and brought him in, for they were excellent friends
+now; Grace was there, of course, but Mattie had hesitated to join
+them: none of them wanted her, she said bitterly to herself.
+
+A dim hope that Grace might come in search of her, or that even Sir
+Henry might saunter in by and by and ask for a cup of tea in his old
+way, had kept Mattie in her place; but now it was getting a little
+late, and perhaps after all Grace would ring, and have the tea in
+there, as she had done once before: and it was no use waiting. And so,
+when Mattie reached this point, she hurried upstairs and put on her
+hat and thick jacket, and then, after a moment's hesitation, opened
+the study door.
+
+It was just the scene she pictured. Sir Harry was in the big chair in
+front of the blazing fire, and Grace in her low wicker seat, facing
+him, with a Chinese screen in her hand. Archie was standing on the
+rug, with his elbow against the narrow wooden mantelpiece, and all
+three were talking merrily. Sir Harry stopped in the middle of a
+laugh, as Mattie entered, and shook hands with her a little gravely.
+
+"How comfortable you all look!" faltered Mattie. The words came in
+spite of her efforts not to say them.
+
+"Then come and join us," returned Archie, with unusual affability.
+"Grace was just wondering what you were doing."
+
+"I was in the drawing-room alone. No, I cannot sit down, Archie, thank
+you. I am just going to bid old Mrs. Chamberlain good-bye: she is
+expecting me, and I must not disappoint her."
+
+"Oh, but it is not fit for you," remonstrated Grace. "Sir Harry says
+the wind is piercing. Do put off your visit until to-morrow, Mattie,
+and we will go together."
+
+"Fie, Miss Grace! never put off until to-morrow what can be done
+to-day," observed Sir Harry, in his joking voice. "What is it the
+copy-books say?--is it procrastination or money that is the root of
+all evil?"
+
+"Sir Harry is quite right, and I must go," stammered Mattie, made
+quite desperate by this joke; he knew how the wind was sweeping over
+the gray sea, and yet he had not said a word about her remaining. Poor
+Mattie! a miserable choking feeling came into her throat, as she
+closed the door on another laugh and struggled along in the teeth of
+the wind. Another time she would not have minded it, for she was hardy
+by nature; but now the cold seemed to freeze her very heart; she
+looked quite blue and pinched when she entered Mrs. Chamberlain's
+drawing-room. It seemed to Mattie as though hours had passed before
+she brought her visit to a close, and yet she had been sitting there
+only three quarters of an hour before she took her leave. The old lady
+was very gracious this afternoon; she pressed Mattie again and again
+to wait a little until Sallie brought up the tea and a nice hot cake
+she was baking. But Mattie steadily refused even these tempting
+delicacies: she was not cold any longer, she said; but it was growing
+late, or the afternoon was darker than usual. And then she wished her
+old friend good-bye,--oh, good-bye for such a long time, Mattie
+thought,--and sallied forth bravely into the wind gain.
+
+It had lulled a little, but the scene before her was very desolate;
+just the gray expanse of sea, with the white line of surge breaking
+into the shore; and here and there a wave tossing up its foamy head
+in the distance. The air seemed full of that continuous low rolling
+and splashing of breakers on the beach: a sea-gull was flying inland;
+the Parade looked white and wind-bleached,--not a creature in sight
+but a coast-guard on duty, moving backwards and forwards in a rather
+forlorn manner, except----Here Mattie turned her head quickly: yes, a
+little beyond there was a man in a rough pilot's coat, looking out
+seaward,--a nautical man, Mattie thought, by the way he stood, as
+though summer gales were blowing about his ears.
+
+Mattie passed quite close to him, for the wind drifted her a little as
+she did so. He turned coolly round and confronted her.
+
+"Sir Harry! Oh, I did not know you in the least," faltered Mattie,
+standing still in her surprise.
+
+"I dare say not," he replied, quietly: "you have never seen me in this
+costume before, and I had my back turned towards you. I saw you
+coming, though, walking as unsteadily as a duck in a storm. What a
+time you have been, Miss Mattie! You ladies are so fond of a gossip."
+
+"Were you waiting for me?" she asked, rather breathlessly, and then
+colored painfully at her question. How absurd! Of course he was not
+waiting for her; his hotel was just opposite, and he was probably
+taking a constitutional before his dinner. "Mrs. Chamberlain pressed
+me to take tea with her," she went on, by way of saying something,
+"but I told her I would rather go home."
+
+"Miss Grace was just ringing for tea when I left," he returned. "No
+wonder you look cold or like a starved robin, Miss Mattie. Why are you
+walking so fast? there is no hurry, is there? I think you owe me some
+amends for keeping me standing for an hour in this bitter wind. There!
+why don't you take my arm and hold on, or you will be blown away?"
+
+Mattie always did as she was bidden, and Sir Harry's tone was a little
+peremptory. He had been waiting for her, then; he had not quite
+forgotten her. Mattie began to feel a little less chilled and numb. If
+he would only say a kind word to her, she thought, she could go away
+more happily.
+
+"I am thinking about that rejected cup of tea," he said, suddenly,
+when they had walked for a moment in silence: "it will be all cleared
+away at the vicarage, and you do look so cold, Miss Mattie."
+
+"Oh, no, not very," she corrected.
+
+"But I say that you do," he persisted, in quite a determined manner:
+"you are cold, and tired, and miserable,--there!"
+
+"I--I am not particularly miserable," but there were tears in Mattie's
+voice, as she uttered this little fib. "I don't quite like going away
+and saying good-bye to people."
+
+"Won't your people be kind to you?" Then changing his tone, "I tell
+you what, Miss Mattie, no one is in a hurry for you at home, and I
+don't see why we should not enjoy ourselves. You remember my old
+friend Mrs. Sparsit, who lives up at Rose Cottage,--you know I saved
+her poodle from drowning one rough day, when some boys got hold of it:
+well, Mrs. Sparsit and I are first-rate friends, and I will ask her to
+give us some tea."
+
+"Oh, no," faltered Mattie, quite shocked at this; for what would Grace
+say? "I only know Mrs. Sparsit a very little."
+
+"What does that matter?" returned Sir Harry, obstinately: "I am always
+dropping in myself for a chat. Now, it is no use your making any
+objection, Miss Mattie, for I have got a lot to say to you, and I
+don't mean to part with you yet. They will only think you are still at
+Rock Building, and I suppose you are old enough to act without Miss
+Grace's advice sometimes."
+
+Mattie hung her head without replying to this. What a feeble, helpless
+sort of creature he must think her! his voice seemed to express a
+good-humored sort of contempt. Well, he was right; she was old enough
+to do as she pleased, and she would like very much to go with him to
+Mrs. Sparsit's. It was rather a reckless proceeding, perhaps; but
+Mattie was too down and miserable to argue it out, so she walked
+beside Sir Harry in a perfectly unresisting manner. Perhaps this was
+the last time she would enjoy his company for a long time: she must
+make the most of it.
+
+"We need not walk quite so fast," he said, checking her, for she was
+hurrying again. "Look here, Miss Mattie, I want to ask you a queer
+sort of question, if only this confounded wind will let me make myself
+heard. Please don't laugh; I don't want to be laughed at, for I am
+quite in earnest. But have you any special objection to red hair?--I
+mean, do you particularly dislike it?"
+
+Mattie opened her eyes rather widely at this. "No, I rather like it,"
+she returned, without a moment's hesitation, and quite in the dark as
+to his possible meaning.
+
+"Oh, that is all right," he returned, cheerfully. "You won't believe
+it, Miss Mattie, but, though I am such a great big fellow, I am as
+bashful as anything; and I have always had a fancy that no one would
+have me because of my red hair."
+
+"What an idea!" observed Mattie, with a little laugh, for she thought
+this so droll, and had not the dimmest idea of his real purpose in
+asking her such a question.
+
+"Don't laugh, please," he remonstrated, "for I am quite serious; I
+never was more serious in my life; for this sort of thing is so
+awkward for a fellow. Then, Miss Mattie, you won't say 'No' to me?"
+
+Mattie stared; but Sir Harry's face, red and embarrassed as it was,
+gave her no clue to his meaning.
+
+"I don't think you understand me," he said, a little impatiently; "and
+yet I am sure I am putting it very plainly. You don't object to me,
+do you, Miss Mattie? I am sure I will do my best to make you happy.
+Gilsbank is a pretty place, and we shall have Aunt Catherine and the
+girls near us. We shall all be as merry as larks, if you will only
+promise to marry me, for I have liked you from the first; I have
+indeed, Miss Mattie."
+
+Sir Harry was a gentleman, in spite of his rough ways. He understood
+in a moment, when Mattie's answer to this was a very feeble clutch at
+his arm, as though her strength were deserting her. What with the
+sudden surprise of these words, and the force of the wind, the poor
+little woman felt herself reeling.
+
+"Stand here for a moment, and I will shelter you from the wind. No,
+don't speak; just hold on, and keep quiet: there is no hurry. No one
+shall scold you, if I can help it. I am afraid"--speaking as gently as
+to a child--"that I have been a little rough and sudden with you. Do
+you feel faint? I never saw you look so pale. What a thoughtless brute
+I have been!"
+
+"No,--oh, no," panted Mattie; "only I am so giddy, and--so happy." The
+last words were half whispered, but he caught them. "Are you sure you
+really mean this, Sir Harry?"
+
+"As sure as that the wind blows," he returned, cheerfully. "Well,
+that's settled. You and I are to be in the same boat for good and
+all,--eh, Miss Mattie? Now let us walk on; and I won't say another
+word until we reach Mrs. Sparsit's."
+
+Perhaps he had taken this resolution because he saw that Mattie found
+speech impossible. Her very footsteps tottered as she struggled
+against the opposing wind. Only the arm on which she leaned seemed to
+give her strength; and yet Mattie no longer shivered in the cutting
+blast. She was no longer cold, and numb, and desolate. Something
+wonderful and incredible and altogether unreal had befallen
+her,--something that had turned her dizzy with happiness, and which
+she could not in the least believe. All she knew was that he had told
+her that no one should scold her now.
+
+"Here we are!" exclaimed Sir Harry, stopping at a trim little cottage,
+with a side-view of the sea; "and, by Jove, there is the poodle
+himself at the window. How do you do, Mrs. Sparsit?" as a pleasant,
+wrinkled dame appeared on the threshold. "You know Miss Drummond, I
+believe? though not as well as you know me. How is Popples? Oh, there
+you are, old fellow,--ready to give me your paw, as usual! Look at
+him, Miss Mattie! Now, Mrs. Sparsit," in a coaxing voice, "this lady
+is dreadfully tired; and I know your kettle is boiling----" but here
+Mrs. Sparsit interrupted him:
+
+"Oh, yes, indeed, Sir Harry; and you shall have some tea directly.
+Dear me, Miss Drummond, you do look poorly, to be sure! Let me stir
+the fire a little, and draw out the couch. Bettie has gone out to see
+her sick mother, Sir Harry; but if you don't mind my leaving you a
+minute, while I just brew the tea----" And without waiting for his
+answer, the worthy creature bustled off to her tiny kitchen, leaving
+Popples to entertain her guests.
+
+Sir Harry closed the door, and then he helped Mattie to divest herself
+of her warm jacket, and placed her in a snug corner of the
+old-fashioned couch.
+
+"You will be all right directly," he said, as he sat down beside her.
+"The wind was too strong; and I was a little sudden: wasn't I,
+Mattie?" And now the color began to come into Mattie's face.
+
+Sir Harry found plenty to tell her as Mrs. Sparsit brewed the tea and
+prepared the hot buttered cakes.
+
+Mattie shed tears of pure happiness when she heard from his own lips
+how good and unselfish and amiable he thought her, and how he had
+liked her from the first in a sort of way,--"not quite the right way,
+you know," explained Sir Harry, candidly; "but every one was so hard
+on you, and you bore it so well, and were such a good little woman,
+that I quite longed to stand your friend; and we were friends,--were
+we not, Mattie? And then somehow it came to me what a nice little wife
+you would make; and so----" but here Mattie timidly interrupted him:
+
+"But Grace,--I thought you liked Grace best!"
+
+Sir Harry laughed outright at this; but he had the grace to look
+ashamed of himself:
+
+"So I did like her very much; but I was only trying you, Mattie. I was
+not sure how much you liked me; but you seemed such a miserable little
+Cinderella among them all that I could hardly keep it up. If they snub
+you now, they will have to answer to me." And at this moment Mrs.
+Sparsit entered with the tea-tray.
+
+Dinner was nearly over at the vicarage when Mattie's step was heard in
+the hall. Archie, who was the soul of punctuality, frowned a little
+when the sound reached his ear.
+
+"This is too bad of Mattie," he said, rather fretfully. "She has no
+right to put us to such inconvenience. I suppose we must have the fish
+up again?"
+
+"Miss Drummond desires that you will go on with your dinner, sir,"
+observed the maid, entering at that moment. "She has had a late tea,
+and will not require anything more."
+
+"Very strange!" fumed Archie; but he was a little pacified by the
+message. But Grace slightly elevated her eyebrows with an expression
+of surprise. Such independence was new in Mattie.
+
+The brother and sister had adjourned to the drawing-room, and Archie
+was about to ring for his coffee, before Mattie made her appearance.
+
+Grace uttered a little exclamation when she saw her sister:
+
+"My dear Mattie, we have no visitors coming in this evening! Why have
+you put on your best gown? You extravagant child!" for Mattie had
+come into the room rustling in her green silk dress, and her little
+dark face glowing from the wind. "She looked almost pretty," as Grace
+said afterwards; but at her sister's quizzical observation Mattie
+blushed and seemed confused.
+
+"It is no use saving it," she began. "Sir Harry is coming in by and
+by. And, oh, Archie! he told me to say it, but I don't know how to do
+it." And then, to Archie's intense surprise,--for she had never done
+such a thing in her life,--she suddenly threw her arms round his neck.
+"Oh, Archie! he says you are never to scold me again,--any of you,"
+she sobbed, "because I belong to him now. And he--Sir Harry, I
+mean--is so good to me; and I am so happy. And won't you wish me joy,
+both of you? And what--what will mother say?" finished Mattie, as
+though this were the climax of everything.
+
+"Good heavens, Mattie!" gasped Archie; but he did not shake her off:
+on the contrary, he kissed her very kindly. "Do you mean you are going
+to marry Sir Harry Challoner?"
+
+"He means to marry me," returned Mattie, smiling, in spite of her
+tears; and then Grace came forward, and took her in her arms.
+
+"I am so glad, dear Mattie," she whispered, soothingly. "Of course we
+none of us expected it; and we are all very much surprised. Oh, dear!
+how happy mother will be!"
+
+"I tell you what," exclaimed Archie, in great excitement, "I will take
+you down myself to Lowder Street, and see what she says. They will all
+be out of their senses with joy; and, upon my word, Mattie, I never
+was so pleased about anything in my life. He is a right-down good
+fellow, I am sure of that; and you are not such a bad little thing
+yourself, Mattie. There!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX.
+
+MATTIE IN A NEW CHARACTER.
+
+
+The family at Lowder Street were all gathered together when the
+travellers made their appearance. There was a general shout of delight
+when Archie's face peered in at them from the dusky hall over Mattie's
+shoulder. Mrs. Drummond's thin face flushed with the unexpected
+pleasure.
+
+"Oh, Archie! my dear boy, I never thought you would surprise us in
+this way!" she said, throwing down her work with tremulous hands. She
+kissed Mattie affectionately; but that dark glow of tenderness in her
+eyes was for Archie. In spite of her ordinary undemonstrativeness, she
+seldom spoke to him without that involuntary softening of her voice.
+However much she loved her other children, her maternal passion was
+reserved for her first-born son.
+
+"How naughty of you to steal a march on us in this manner!" she said,
+playfully. "We have only prepared a meat-tea for Mattie, because I
+knew she would not mind; but if you had telegraphed I would have had
+dinner ready for you, Archie."
+
+"Stuff! nonsense! why need he have telegraphed? I suppose what is good
+enough for Mattie and the rest of us is good enough for Archie!"
+
+Mr. Drummond spoke testily as he put down the paper. These hints about
+the late dinners always nettled him. His renunciation of them years
+ago had been a heavy piece of self-denial, for he was a man rather
+fond of creature comforts; he had done it for his children's sake; but
+it was more than flesh and blood could bear that this renounced luxury
+should be served for his son's benefit. Was he not as good as Archie,
+though he had not been to a University and become fellow of his
+college?
+
+"Father is quite right," returned Archie, cheerfully. "I would not
+telegraph, because I wanted to surprise you; and I knew you were such
+a good manager, mother, that you would have plenty of aired sheets
+ready for my bed. Of course what is good enough for Mattie is right
+for me. As we are both as hungry as hunters, we shall do justice to
+anything you have prepared."
+
+"There is only some cold meat and some ham and eggs," observed Mrs.
+Drummond, a little plaintively. She did not dare anger her husband
+further by proposing even a chop, for she knew how touchy he was about
+Archie's fastidiousness; but if she could have had her own way she
+would have killed the fatted calf for this dearest son. Nothing was
+too good for him in her eyes; and yet for the sake of tranquillity she
+dared not even hazard the question of a chop.
+
+"Cold meat,--that is just what I should like," replied Archie, with
+excellent _sang-froid_. He detested that stock-dish of the Lowder
+Street larder, ham and eggs. The eggs were dubious, he
+considered,--not actually new-laid, but a little suggestive of lime.
+"But there! you must not give me all your attention, mother," he
+continued. "I have brought Mattie home, you see, and you have never
+told her even how she looks."
+
+"She looks very well," replied Mrs. Drummond. In spite of her anxiety
+about Archie, she had been looking at her daughter more than once with
+puzzled eyes. There was something different about her, she thought. It
+was hardly like Mattie to come in so quietly among them all and take
+her place beside her father. Mattie seldom did anything without a
+fuss: it was her ordinary way to stand among them chattering as fast
+as her tongue would go, until some one reminded her that it was time
+for her to take off her hat and jacket or she would be late for tea.
+But to-night Mattie had hardly opened her lips, except to answer her
+father's questions about the journey. She had kissed her sisters very
+quietly, and had asked after Isabel, and had then proposed of her own
+accord to go upstairs.
+
+"Clara, go up with your sister. No, not Laura; you will all get
+chattering, and then we shall be kept waiting. Isabel is upstairs,
+Archie: she has come in to sit with us this evening, as Ellis has to
+go to a business dinner. He will call for her on his way."
+
+"I am very glad she is here," returned Archie, "for I have to go back
+by the early train to-morrow. Ah, there she is. Well, how are you,
+Belle?" greeting her affectionately as she came up to him rather
+shyly. Archie could hardly help smiling at the contrast between
+Isabel's brilliant evening toilet and his other sister's brown stuff
+dress. It was a little trying to his gravity to see her putting on
+such pretty little airs of matronly dignity. Mrs. Ellis Burton was an
+important person now; that was sufficiently obvious; the plump little
+figure was most lavishly adorned. But the round childish face was
+certainly very pretty; and, as every other sentence brought in
+"Ellis," and as Ellis's opinion appeared always right in her eyes,
+Archie deduced that his sister was satisfied with her choice.
+
+"Oh, dear, Mattie! how droll it is to see you home again!" exclaimed
+Susie, who was noted for making awkward speeches. "And how funny you
+look beside Isabel!"
+
+"We are very glad to have her back," returned Mrs. Drummond, in her
+repressive tones. She was just refilling her teapot from the urn, but
+she found opportunity to shake her head at Susie. "People do not
+generally look smart in their travelling-dress; but I think she looks
+very nice. Had you not a commoner gown, my dear? That looks almost too
+good for the purpose;" for Mrs. Drummond's sense of economy was a
+little shocked by perceiving that Mattie's gown was a new one.
+
+"It is very well made," observed Isabel, critically. "I am so glad,
+Mattie, that you have given up that hideous plaid: it never suited
+you."
+
+"If I had been you, I would have travelled in it," persisted Mrs.
+Drummond, who never could remember that Mattie was over thirty and
+might possibly have opinions of her own.
+
+Archie listened to all this with great amusement.
+
+"Don't you think it is about time I started a pleasanter subject,
+Mattie?" he asked, laughing. "Have you finished your tea, my dear? for
+I do not want to spoil your appetite; but time is getting on, and----"
+here he glanced at the clock.
+
+Every one stared at this, for Archie had never spoken in exactly that
+way to Mattie before; and, as he did so, Mattie's cheeks were burning.
+But what was their surprise when Archie suddenly rose from his seat
+and laid his hand kindly on Mattie's shoulder!
+
+"She is too shy to tell you herself; I have come all these miles to do
+it for her. Isabel, you need not look so consequential. Ellis is a
+good fellow, I dare say, but our little Mattie has done better for
+herself than even you. Mother, you have achieved a success in one of
+your seven daughters: let me introduce to you the future Lady
+Challoner!" And then, still keeping his hand upon her shoulder, he
+looked blandly round on them all.
+
+"Well, I am sure!" from Isabel, half pouting; but no one else spoke
+except Mr. Drummond:
+
+"What does this mean, Archie? Can't you speak for yourself, my girl?
+Is this a joke? Does he mean something amusing?" asked the father; but
+his lip quivered a little: if it should be true,--if it were no joke!
+
+"It is just as Archie says!" replied Mattie, timidly, not daring to
+raise her eyes. "Sir Harry asked me to marry him, and I said yes,
+because--because he was always so good to me." And here Mattie laughed
+a little hysterically. "And I did not think you would object,
+father."
+
+"Me object!" replied Mr. Drummond, oblivious of grammar just then.
+"Why, my little Mattie, what news is this? Come here and kiss me, my
+girl. I am proud of you; I am delighted to think a daughter of mine is
+going to make such a splendid match. Why don't you speak to her, my
+dear?" addressing his wife, with some excitement. "Bless my
+soul,--Lady Challoner, my plain little Mattie Lady Challoner! Is it
+possible? Why, you were telling us, Archie, what a Croesus this Sir
+Henry was, and how he had just bought quite a fine place for
+himself."
+
+"Mattie, come here." Her children could hardly recognize their
+mother's voice, it was so broken, and the tears were running down her
+cheeks, though not one of them remembered seeing her cry before.
+Mattie never felt her triumph greater, never understood the
+magnificence of her own success, until she saw those tears, and felt
+the presence of her mother's arms round her. Never since the child
+Mattie had had to make way for the new-born brother, and had toddled
+away with the never-forgotten words, "Mammy's arms are full; no room
+for Mattie now," had she laid her head upon that mother's shoulder to
+indulge in the good cry that was needed to relieve her. Isabel looked
+almost affronted as she twirled her diamond rings round her plump
+fingers. When she and Ellis had been engaged, her mother had not made
+all this fuss. And Mattie was such an old thing; and it was so
+ridiculous; and her father seemed on the verge of crying too. "But
+then," as Susie said afterwards, "Belle did not like her consequence
+to be set aside; and she and Ellis were just nobodies at all."
+
+No one enjoyed the scene so much as Archie: that was how his mother
+ought to be with her girls. Nevertheless, he interrupted them
+ruthlessly:
+
+"Don't make your eyes too red, Mattie: remember who will be in by and
+by." And as she started up at this and began to smooth her rumpled
+hair, he explained to them generally that they had not travelled
+alone; Sir Harry had accompanied them to Leeds, and was at present
+dining, he believed at the Star Hotel, where he had bespoken a room.
+"He thought it best to make himself known personally to you; and, as
+Mattie raised no objection, he announced his intention of calling this
+evening----" but before Archie could finish his sentence, or the
+awe-struck domestic announce him properly, Sir Harry himself was among
+them all, shaking hands with everybody, down to Dottie.
+
+And, really, for a shy man he did his part very well: he seemed to
+take his welcome for granted, and beamed on them all most genially.
+
+"I suppose the parson has already introduced me," he said, when Mr.
+Drummond senior held out his hand, "What a lot of you there are!" he
+continued, as he reached Dottie, who, dreadfully frightened at his
+size, tried to hide behind Susie. Dottie compared him in her own mind
+to one of their favorite giants. "He was so dreadfully like Fee-fo-fum
+in 'Jack the Giant-Killer,'" she pouted, when Mattie afterwards took
+her to task, "when he kissed me I thought he was going to eat me up."
+
+Mattie's dark little face lit up with shy happiness when she saw him
+sit down beside her mother and talk to her in his frank pleasant way.
+In her eyes he was nothing less than an angel of light. True, the room
+had never looked so small and shabby as it looked to-night, but what
+did that matter to Mattie?--the poor little Cinderella in the brown
+gown had found her prince. By and by the pumpkin-coach would fetch her
+to a grand house, she would have jewels and fine clothes,--everything
+that the heart of woman could desire; but it may be doubted if such
+thoughts ever crossed Mattie's mind. That he had chosen her, this was
+the miracle; that she was never to be scolded, and laughed at, and
+teased; that he had stooped to her, this noble, great-hearted man, to
+raise her from her humbleness; that he could care for her, in spite of
+her plainness and her many faults. No wonder if such happiness almost
+beautified Mattie, as she sat a little apart, surrounded by her young
+sisters.
+
+Mrs. Drummond's stern face glowed with pleasure when Sir Harry in a
+few simple words spoke to her of his pride in winning her daughter.
+Could it be her homely, old-fashioned little Mattie of whom he was
+speaking, whose unselfishness and goodness he praised so highly! "I
+have never known a more beautiful nature: she does not seem to me to
+have an unkind thought of any one. All my cousins love her. If you
+will trust her to me, I think I can promise, as far as a man can, that
+her life shall be a happy one." No wonder if the mother's eyes filled
+with joyous tears at such words as these.
+
+"Mattie, dear," said Sir Harry to her the next day, when they found
+themselves alone,--a rather difficult thing to achieve in the crowded
+household, but Mrs. Drummond had just left the room,--"I have been
+talking to your mother. She is a sensible woman, and she thinks in six
+weeks everything can be ready. What do you say?"
+
+"If mother thinks so, I suppose she is right," returned Mattie, very
+much confused by this sudden appeal to her opinion. Sir Harry had
+already importuned for a speedy marriage, and she had in much
+trepidation referred him to her mother, feeling herself unequal to the
+task of answering him.
+
+"Yes, your mother is a sensible woman," continued Sir Harry, taking no
+notice of her confusion. "She knows that a great house full of
+servants is more than a man can manage alone; and so, as I told her
+that Gilsbank was ready, and its master waiting, she was quite of my
+opinion that there should be no delay. You see, Mattie," in a tone of
+great gentleness, "though I am very fond of you, I cannot help feeling
+stifled in a small house full of people. There is no getting you to
+myself, or being comfortable; and a man of my size feels out of place
+among a lot of girls. So if you are willing, as of course you are,"
+very coaxingly, "and I am willing, we may as well get the thing over.
+It takes a good deal out of a fellow to go through this sort of thing
+properly, and I don't fancy I hit it off well: so we will say this day
+six weeks. And to-morrow you will be a good little woman, and let me
+go back to my comfortable quarters at Hadleigh, for one breathes only
+smoke here; and how you have always borne it all these years is a
+mystery to me."
+
+So Mattie let him go cheerfully. She had never been selfish in her
+life, and of course she spoke no word to dissuade him; but, though she
+had but few letters from him, and those of the briefest possible
+kind,--for Sir Harry was not fond of penmanship,--those six weeks were
+far from being unhappy. How could they be, when they were all so good
+to her, Mattie thought?--when her opinion was deferred to even by her
+mother, and when her brothers and sisters treated her with such
+respect and affection?
+
+Mattie had no sense of the ludicrous, or she would have laughed at the
+change in Clyde's tone, or at the way Fred boxed Dottie's ears for
+speaking rudely to Mattie: in their eyes the future Lady Challoner was
+a person of the utmost importance. The boys vied with each other in
+waiting on her; the girls were always ready with their little
+services. Mattie felt herself almost overwhelmed sometimes.
+
+"Oh, mother, ask them not to do it!" she said, one day, with tears in
+her eyes. "I am only Mattie; I am not different; I never shall be
+different. I shall want to wait on you all my life,--on you and all of
+them!"
+
+"It is for them to wait on you more!" returned her mother, gravely. "I
+am afraid they have not always been good to you, and they want to make
+up for it."
+
+But not all the attentions she received could move Mattie from her own
+humble estimate of herself; and yet in some ways, if she could have
+seen herself, she would have owned there was a difference. Mattie no
+longer fussed and fidgeted: always sweet-natured, she grew placid in
+her new happiness.
+
+"I consider myself a fortunate fellow, for I have the dearest little
+wife in the world," Sir Harry said to her a few days after they were
+married, when Mattie had, as usual, said something disparaging of
+herself. "Never mind what you think, so long as I am satisfied; and it
+is very rude of you to be always finding fault with my choice,--ay,
+Lady Challoner!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L.
+
+PHILLIS'S FAVORITE MONTH.
+
+
+Archie had been persuaded to remain until the following evening, and
+to take the night mail up to London. "You know you always sleep so
+soundly in a railway-carriage," his mother had said, with her eyes
+full of pleading.
+
+"Perhaps so; but all the same it is dreary work to be shunted on to a
+platform in the middle of the night, and to have to find your way
+across London to catch a Sussex train." But, in spite of his grumbling
+he had remained. For once it was difficult to tear himself away from
+that happy family party.
+
+But all through that night he scarcely closed his eyes, but sat
+staring at the swinging-lamp and his drowsy fellow-passengers, or out
+into the blank wall of darkness, too wide awake and full of thought to
+lose himself in his usual placid slumbers. The fortunes of the
+Drummond family seemed rising a little, he thought, with pleasure. How
+alert and full of energy his father had seemed when he had parted from
+him at the station! he had lost that subdued despondent look that had
+grown on him of late. Even his shoulders were a little less bowed, as
+though the burden did not press quite so heavily.
+
+"All this makes a great difference to me, Archie," he had said, as
+they had walked to and fro on the platform. "Two such wealthy
+sons-in-law ought to satisfy any father's ambition. I can hardly
+believe yet that my little Mattie--whom her sisters always called 'the
+old maid'--should have secured such a prize. If it had been Grace,
+now, one need not have wondered so much."
+
+"You may leave Grace out of your reckoning," returned Archie, smiling
+assent to this, "and consider you have three out of your seven
+daughters provided for, for Grace will always be my care. Whatever
+happens in the future, I think I can promise as much as that."
+
+"Ay, ay! I remember when she was a little thing she always called
+herself Archie's wife. Well, well, the mother must bring on Clara now:
+it would be a shame to separate you two. Look, there is your train, my
+boy! Jump in, and God bless you! You will come down to the wedding of
+course, and bring Grace."
+
+"Archie's wife." It was these two words that were keeping him so wide
+awake in the rushing darkness. A dusky flush mounted to the young
+man's forehead as he pondered over them.
+
+He knew himself better now. Only a few weeks, scarcely more than a
+fortnight, had passed since Grace had given him that hint; but each
+day since then had done the work of years. Caught at the rebound
+indeed, and that so securely and strongly that the man's heart could
+never waver from its fixed purpose again.
+
+Now it was that he wondered at his blindness; that he began to
+question with a perfect anguish of doubt whether he should be too
+late; whether his vacillation and that useless dream of his would
+hinder the fulfilment of what was now his dearest hope.
+
+Would he ever bring her to believe that he had never really loved
+before,--not, at least, as he could love now? Would he ever dare to
+tell her so, when she had known and understood that first stray fancy
+of his for Nan's sweet face?
+
+Now, as day after day he visited the cottage and talked apart with her
+mother, his eyes would follow Phillis wistfully. Once the girl had
+looked up from her work and caught that long, watchful glance; and
+then she had grown suddenly very pale, and a pained expression crossed
+her face, as though she had been troubled.
+
+Since that night when the young vicar had stood bare-headed on the
+snowy steps, and had told Phillis laughingly that one day she would
+find out for herself that all men were masterful, and she had run down
+the steps flashing back that disdainful look at him, he had felt there
+was a change in her manner to him.
+
+They had been such good friends of late; it had become a habit with
+him to turn to Phillis when he wanted sympathy. A silent, scarcely
+perceptible understanding had seemed to draw them together; but in one
+moment, at a word, a mere light jest of his that meant nothing, the
+girl had become all at once reserved, frozen up, impenetrable even to
+friendship.
+
+In vain he strove to win her back to her old merry talk. Her frank
+recklessness of speech seemed over for the present. In his presence
+she was almost always silent,--not with any awkwardness of
+embarrassment, but with a certain maidenly reserve of bearing, as
+though she had marked out a particular line of conduct for herself.
+
+When Grace was in the room, things were better: Phillis could not be
+otherwise than affectionate to her chosen friend. And when they were
+alone together, all Phillis's bright playfulness seemed to return; but
+nothing would induce her to cross the threshold of the vicarage.
+
+The evening after his return from Leeds, Archie, as usual, dropped in
+at the Friary; but this time he brought Grace with him. They were all
+gathered in the work-room, which had now become their favorite resort.
+On some pretext or other, the lamp had not been brought in; but they
+were all sitting round the fire, chatting in an idle desultory way.
+
+Phillis was half hidden behind her mother's chair: perhaps this was
+the reason why her voice had its old merry chord. She had welcomed
+Archie rather gravely,--hardly turning her face to him as she spoke;
+but as soon as she was in her corner again, she took up the thread of
+their talk in her usual frank way. But it was Grace that she
+addressed.
+
+"Poor dear Harry! We have all been laughing a little at the notion of
+Alcides being in love. Somehow, it seems so droll that Mattie should
+turn out his Deianeira; but, after all, I think he has shown very good
+sense in his choice. Mattie will wear well."
+
+"You seem to agree with the 'Vicar of Wakefield,' Miss Challoner,"
+observed Archie, rather amused at this temperate praise. "Did not that
+excellent man choose his wife for the same reason that she choose her
+wedding-dress, with a view to durability?"
+
+"Oh, there is a vast amount of wisdom in all that," returned Phillis,
+with mock solemnity; for she did not mind what nonsense she talked in
+the darkness. "If life had nothing but fair-weather days, it might be
+excusable for a man to choose his wife for mere beauty; but when one
+thinks of fogs and east-winds, and smoky chimneys, and all such minor
+evils, they may need something a little more sustaining than a pink
+complexion. At least," catching herself up, and hurrying on as though
+the real meaning of her words only just occurred to her, "though
+Mattie may not be beautiful outwardly, she is just the right sort of
+person for a regular east-windy day. Not even a smoky chimney and a
+fog together will put her out of temper."
+
+"I will recollect your advice when the time comes," replied Archie
+rather audaciously at this, as he laughed and stroked his beard.
+
+It pleased him to see the old fun brimming over again, fresh and
+sparkling; but, as he answered her in the same vein of pleasantry, she
+colored up in her dark corner and shrank back into herself, and all
+the rest of the evening he could hardly win a smile from her.
+
+"My dear, I think Mr. Drummond comes very often," Mrs. Challoner said
+to her eldest daughter that night. "He is very gentlemanly, and a most
+excellent young man: but I begin to be afraid what these visits
+mean." But Nan only laughed at this.
+
+"Poor mother!" she said, stroking her face. "Don't you wish you had us
+all safe at Glen Cottage again? There are so few young men at
+Oldfield."
+
+"I cannot bear young men," was the somewhat irritable answer. "What is
+the use of having children, when just when they grow up to be a
+comfort to you, every one tries to deprive you of them? Dick has
+robbed me of you,"--and here Mrs. Challoner grew tearful,--"and Dulce
+is always with the Middletons; and I am not at all sure that Captain
+Middleton is not beginning to admire her."
+
+"Neither am I," observed Nan, a little gravely; for, though they
+seldom talked of such things among themselves, "son Hammond's"
+attentions were decidedly conspicuous, and Dulce was looking as shy
+and pretty as possible.
+
+No; she could not give her mother any comfort there, for the
+solemn-faced young officer was clearly bent on mischief. Indeed, both
+father and son were making much of the little girl. But as regarded
+Mr. Drummond there could be no question of his intentions. The growing
+earnestness, the long wistful looks, were not lost on Nan who knew all
+such signs by experience. It was easy to understand the young vicar:
+it was Phillis who baffled her.
+
+They had never had any secrets between them. From their very
+childhood, Nan had shared Phillis's every thought. But once or twice
+when she had tried to approach the subject in the gentlest manner,
+Phillis had started away like a restive colt, and had answered her
+almost with sharpness:
+
+"Nonsense, Nannie! What is it to me if Mr. Drummond comes a dozen
+times a day?" arching her long neck in the proudest way, but her
+throat contracting a little over the uttered falsehood; for she knew,
+none better, what these visits were to her. "Do you think I should
+take the trouble to investigate his motives? Don't you know, Nan," in
+her sweet whimsical voice, "that the masculine mind loves to conjugate
+the verb 'to amuse'? Mr. Drummond is evidently bored by his own
+company; but there! the vagaries of men are innumerable. One might as
+well question the ebbing tide as inquire of these young divinities the
+reason of all their eccentric actions. He comes because we amuse him,
+and we like to see him because he amuses us: and when he bores us, we
+can tell him so, which is better than Canute and the waves, after
+all." And of course, after this, Nan was compelled to drop the
+subject.
+
+But she watched Phillis anxiously; for she saw that the girl was
+restless and ill at ease. The thoughtful gray eyes had a shadow in
+them. The bright spirits were quenched, and only kindled by a great
+effort; and, as the time for their leaving the Friary grew closer day
+by day, until the last week approached, she flagged more, and the
+shadow grew deeper.
+
+"If he would only speak and end all this suspense!" thought Nan, who
+knew nothing of the real state of things, and imagined that Mr.
+Drummond had cared for Phillis from the first.
+
+They had already commenced their packing. Sir Harry was back in his
+hotel, solacing himself with his cousin's company, and writing brief
+letters to his homely little bride-elect, when one fine afternoon he
+met them and Grace just starting for the shore.
+
+This was their programme on most afternoons, and of course they had
+not gone far before Captain Middleton and his father and sister joined
+them; and a little later on, just as they were entering the town, they
+overtook Mr. Drummond.
+
+Phillis nodded to him in a friendly manner, and then walked on with
+Grace, taking no further notice; but when they were on the shore,
+admiring the fine sunset effect, Grace quietly dropped her arm and
+slipped away to join the others. Phillis stood motionless: her eyes
+were riveted on the grand expanse of sky and ocean. "It is so like
+life," she said at last, not seeing who stood beside her, while all
+the others were walking on in groups of twos and threes, Dulce close
+to the colonel, as usual. "Do you see those little boats, Grace? one
+is sailing so smoothly in the sunlight, and the other scarcely
+stirring in the shadow,--brightness to some, you see, and shade to
+others; and beyond, that clear line of light, like the promise of
+eternity."
+
+"Don't you think it lies within most people's power to make their own
+lives happier?" returned Archie so quietly to this that she scarcely
+started. "The sunshine and shade are more evenly balanced than we
+know. To be sure, there are some lives like that day that is neither
+clear nor dark,--gray, monotonous lives, with few breaks and pleasures
+in them. But perhaps even that question may be happily solved when one
+looks out a little farther to the light beyond."
+
+"Yes, if one does not grow tired of waiting for the answer," she said,
+a little dreamily. "There is so much that cannot be clear here." And
+then she roused with a little difficulty from her abstraction, and
+looked around her. The others had all gone on: they were standing
+alone on the shingly beach, just above a little strip of yellow
+sand,--only they two. Was it for this reason that her eyes grew wide
+and troubled, and she moved away rather hurriedly? But he still kept
+close to her, talking quietly as he did so.
+
+"Do you remember this place?" he said: "it reminds me of a picture I
+once saw. I think it was 'Atalanta's Race,' only there was no Paris.
+It was just such as scene as this: there was the dark breakwater, and
+the long line of surf breaking on the shore, and the sun was shining
+on the water; and there was a girl running with her head erect, and
+she scarcely seemed to touch the ground, and she stopped just here,"
+resting his hand on the black, shiny timber.
+
+"Do not," she answered, in a low voice, "do not recall that day: it
+stings me even now to remember it." And as the words "Bravo Atalanta!"
+recurred to her memory, the hot blush of shame mounted to her face.
+
+"I have no need to recall it," he returned, still more quietly, for
+her discomposure was great, "for I have never forgotten it. Yes, this
+is the place, not where I first saw you, but where I first began to
+know you. Phillis, that knowledge is becoming everything to me now!"
+
+"Do not," she said, again, but she could hardly bring out the words.
+But how wonderful it was to hear her name pronounced like that! "The
+others have gone on: we must join them."
+
+"May I not tell you what I think about you first?" he asked, very
+gently.
+
+"Not now,--not yet," she almost whispered; and now he saw that she was
+very pale, and her eyes were full of tears. "I could not bear it yet."
+And then, as she moved farther away from him, he could see how great
+was her agitation.
+
+It was a proof of his love and earnestness that he suffered the girl
+to leave him in this way, that he did not again rejoin her until they
+were close to the others. In spite of his impatience and his many
+faults, he was generous enough to understand her without another word.
+She had not repelled him; she had not silenced him entirely; she had
+not listened to him and then answered him with scorn. On the contrary,
+her manner had been soft and subdued, more winning than he had ever
+known it; and yet she had refused to hearken to his suit. "Not
+now,--not yet," she had said, and he could see that her lip quivered,
+and her beautiful eyes were full of tears. It was too soon, that was
+what she meant; too soon for him to speak and for her to listen. She
+owed it to her own dignity that his affection should be put to greater
+proof than that. She must not be so lightly won; she must not stoop
+down from her maidenly pride and nobleness at his first words because
+she had grown to care for him. "It must not be so, however much the
+denial may cost me," Phillis had said to herself. But as she joined
+the others, and came to Nan's side, she could scarcely steady her
+voice or raise her eyes, for fear their shy consciousness would betray
+her. "At last," and "at last!"--that was the refrain that was ringing
+so joyously in her heart. Well, and one day he should tell her what he
+would.
+
+She thought she had silenced him entirely, but she forgot that men
+were masterful and had cunning ways of their own to compass their
+ends. Archie had recovered his courage; he had still a word to say,
+and he meant to say it; and just before the close of the walk, as they
+were in the darkest part of the Braidwood Road, just where the trees
+meet overhead, before one reaches the vicarage, Phillis found him
+again at her side.
+
+"When may I hope that you will listen?" he said. "I am not a patient
+man: you must remember that, and not make it too hard for me. I should
+wish to know how soon I may come."
+
+"Spring is very beautiful in the country," she answered, almost too
+confused by this unexpected address to know what she was saying. "I
+think May is my favorite month, when the hawthorns are out."
+
+"Thank you, I will come in May." And then Phillis woke up to the
+perception of what she had said. "Oh, no, I did not meant that," she
+began, incoherently; but this time it was Archie who moved away, with
+a smile on his face and a certain vivid brightness in his eyes, and
+her stammered words were lost in the darkness.
+
+The whole week was much occupied by paying farewell visits. On the
+last afternoon Phillis went down to the White House to say good-bye.
+It was one of Magdalene's bad days; but the unquiet hour had passed,
+and left her, as usual, weak and subdued. Her husband was sitting
+beside her: as Phillis entered he rose with a smile on his lips. "That
+is right, Miss Challoner!" he said, heartily. "Magdalene always looks
+better the moment she hears your voice. Barby is unfortunately out,
+but I can leave her happily with you."
+
+"Is he not good?" exclaimed his wife, as soon as he had left them. "He
+has been sitting with me all the afternoon, my poor Herbert, trying to
+curb his restlessness, because he knows how much worse I am without
+him. Am I not a trying wife to him? and yet he says he could not do
+without me. There, it has passed: let us talk of something else. And
+so you are going to leave us?" drawing the fresh face down to hers,
+that she might kiss it again.
+
+"Yes, to-morrow!" trying to stifle a sigh.
+
+"There are some of us that will not know what to do without you. If I
+am not very much mistaken, there is one person who----" but here the
+girl laid her hand hurriedly on her lips. "What! I am not to say that?
+Well, I will try to be good. But all the same this is not good-bye.
+Tell your mother from me that she will not have her girls for long.
+Captain Middleton has lost his heart, and is bent on making that
+pretty little sister of yours lose hers to; and as for you,
+Phillis----" but here Phillis stooped, and silenced her this time by a
+kiss.
+
+"Ah, well!" continued Magdalene, after a moment's silence, as she
+looked tenderly into the fair face before her; "so you have finished
+your little bit of play-work, and are going back into your
+young-ladyhood again?"
+
+"It was not play-work!" returned Phillis, indignantly: "you say that
+to provoke me. Do you know," she went on, earnestly, "that if we
+should have had to work all our lives as dressmakers, Nan and I would
+have done it, and never given in. We were making quite a fine business
+of it. We had more orders then we could execute; and you call that
+play? Confess, now, that you repent of that phrase!"
+
+"Oh, I was only teasing you," returned Magdalene, smiling. "I know how
+brave you were, and how terribly in earnest. Yes, Phillis, you are
+right; nothing would have daunted you; you would have worked without
+complaint all your life long, but for that red-haired Alcides of
+yours."
+
+"Dear Harry! how much we owe to him!" exclaimed Phillis.
+
+"No, dear, you will owe your happiness to yourself,--the happiness,"
+as the girl looked at her in surprise, "that is coming to you and
+Dulce. It was because you were not like other girls--because you were
+brave, self-reliant gentlewomen, afraid of nothing but dishonor; not
+fearful of small indignities, or of other people's opinions, but just
+taking up the work that lay to your hands, and going through with
+it--that you have won his heart: and, seeing this, how could he help
+loving you as he does?" But to this Phillis made no answer.
+
+The next day was rather trying to them all. Phillis's cheerfulness was
+a little forced, and for some time after they had left the
+Friary--with Grace and Archie waving their farewells from the
+road--she was very silent.
+
+But no sooner had they crossed the threshold of Glen Cottage than
+their girlhood asserted itself. The sight of the bright snug rooms,
+with their new furniture, the conservatory, with its floral treasures,
+and Sir Harry's cheery welcome, as he stood in the porch with Mrs.
+Mayne, was too much even for Phillis's equanimity. In a few minutes
+their laughing faces were peering out of every window and into every
+cupboard.
+
+"Oh, the dear, beautiful home! Isn't it lovely of Harry to bring us
+back!" cried Phillis, oblivious of everything at that moment but her
+mother's satisfied face.
+
+In a few days they had settled down into their old life. It was too
+early for tennis while snowdrops and crocuses were peeping out of the
+garden borders. But in the afternoon friends dropped in in the old
+way, and gathered round the Challoner tea-table; and very soon--for
+Easter fell early that year--Dick showed himself among them, and then,
+indeed, Nan's cup of happiness was full.
+
+But as April passed on Phillis began to grow a little silent again;
+and it became a habit with her to coax Laddie to take long walks with
+her, when Nan and Dulce were otherwise engaged. The exercise seemed to
+quiet her restlessness; and the spring sights and sounds, the budding
+hedgerows, and the twittering of the birds as they built their nests,
+and the fresh leafy green, unsoiled by summer heat and dust, seemed to
+refresh her flagging spirits.
+
+It was the 1st of May, when one afternoon she called to Laddie, who
+was lying drowsily in the sunny porch. Nan, who was busily engaged in
+training the creeper round the pillars of the veranda, looked up in a
+little surprise:
+
+"Are you going out again, Phil? And neither Dulce nor I can come with
+you. Mrs. Mayne has some friends coming to five-o'clock tea, and she
+wants us to go over for an hour. It is so dull for you, dear, always
+to walk alone."
+
+"Oh no; I shall not be dull, Nannie," returned Phillis, with an
+unsteady smile, for her spirits were a little fluctuating that
+afternoon. "I am restless, and want a good walk: so I shall just go to
+Sandy Lane, and be back in time to make tea for mother." And then she
+waved her hand, and whistled to Laddie as she unlatched the little
+gate. It was a long walk. But, as usual, the quiet and the sweet air
+refreshed her, and by the time she reached Sandy Lane her eyes were
+brilliant with exercise, and a pretty pink tinge of color was in her
+cheeks. It is May-day,--the 1st of May. I wonder how soon he will
+come, she thought, as she leaned on the little gate where poor Dick
+had leaned that day.
+
+There were footsteps approaching, but they made no sound over the
+sandy ruts. A tall man, with a fair beard and a clerical felt hat, was
+walking quickly up the road that leads from Oldfield; and as he walked
+his eyes were scanning the path before him, as though he were looking
+for some one. At the sight of the girl leaning against the gate his
+face brightened, and he slackened his steps a little, that he might
+not startle her. She was looking out across the country with a
+far-off, dreamy expression, and did not turn her head as he
+approached. It was Laddie who saw him first, and jumped up with a
+joyous bark to welcome him; and then she looked round, and for a
+moment her eyes grew wide and misty, for she thought it was a
+continuation of her dream.
+
+"Laddie saw me first," he said, stepping up quietly to her side,--for
+he still feared to startle her,--and his voice was very gentle.
+"Phillis, you must not look so surprised! Surely you expected me? It
+is the 1st of May!"
+
+"Oh, I knew that," she said; and then she turned away from him. But he
+had not dropped her hand, but was holding it very quietly and firmly.
+"But I could not tell the day; and----"
+
+"Did you think I should wait an hour beyond the time you fixed?" he
+answered, very calmly. "May is your favorite month; and what could be
+more beautiful than May-day for the purpose I have in hand! Phillis,
+you will not go back from your promise now? You said you would listen
+to me in May."
+
+There was no answer to this; but, as Archie looked in her face, he
+read no repulse there. And so, in that quiet lane, with Laddie lying
+at their feet, he told all he had to tell.
+
+"Are you sure you can trust me now, Phillis?" he asked, rather
+wistfully, when he had finished. "You know what I am, dear--a man with
+many faults."
+
+"Yes; now and forever," she answered, without a moment's hesitation.
+"I am not afraid--I never should have been afraid to trust you, I have
+faults of my own: so why should I wish you to be perfect? I care for
+you as you are; you will believe that?" for there was almost a sad
+humility in his face as he pleaded with her that went to her heart.
+
+"Oh, yes; I believe what you tell me. You are truth itself, my
+darling,--the bravest and truest woman I have ever met. You do not
+know how happy you have made me, or how different my life will be when
+I have you by my side. Phillis, do you know how glad Grace will be
+about this?"
+
+"Will she?" returned Phillis, shyly. They were walking homeward now,
+hand in hand toward the sunset,--so, at least, it seemed to the girl.
+No one was in sight, only the quiet country round them bathed in the
+evening light, and they two alone. "Archie!" she exclaimed, suddenly,
+and her beautiful eyes grew wistful all at once, "you will not let
+this make any difference to Grace? She loves you so; and you are all
+she has at present. You must never let me stand between you two. I am
+not so selfish as that."
+
+"You could not be selfish if you tried, dearest. How I wish Grace
+could have heard you! No; you are right. We must not let her suffer
+from our happiness. But, Phillis, you know who must come first now."
+And then, as she smiled in full understanding, he put her hand upon
+his arm, and held it there. His promised wife,--Archie's wife! Ah, the
+Drummond star was rising now in earnest! His life lay before him, like
+the road they were now entering, white and untrodden and bathed in the
+sunlight. What if some clouds should come, and some shadows fall, if
+they might tread it together to the end? And so, growing silent with
+happiness, they walked home through the sunset, till the spring dusk
+and the village lights saw them standing together on the threshold of
+Glen Cottage, and the dear faces and loving voices of home closed
+around them and bade them welcome.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+HOW TO BECOME RICH.
+A TREATISE ON PHRENOLOGY
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+A Choice of Professions and Matrimony--A Self-Instructor
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+
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+407-429 Dearborn Street, CHICAGO
+
+
+
+
+OUR SUNDAY SCHOOL LIBRARY FOR VERY YOUNG CHILDREN
+
+12 Volumes--Cloth--Illustrated
+
+We take pleasure in announcing the publication of new and enlarged
+editions of the following books, comprising our Sunday School Library
+for very young children. Thousands of Sunday Schools and Kindergartens
+throughout America have ordered the entire set. In some instances
+several sets have been ordered for one school where the enrollment is
+very large. Approved by teachers and ministers of all denominations.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ 1. PAPA'S PET
+ 2. SUNBEAMS AND SHADOWS
+ 3. MISS ROSY
+ 4. BEACH FARM CHILDREN
+ 5. GOOD NIGHT STORIES
+ 6. HELPING MAMMA
+ 7. PLEASANT TIMES
+ 8. BOBBY'S TEETH
+ 9. PLAY DAY
+10. LITTLE TEACHERS
+11. PRETTY STORIES
+12. AUNT ELIZABETH
+
+Each volume contains about 50 pages printed on an extra quality of heavy
+book paper, profusely illustrated and bound in an excellent quality of
+silk cloth, assorted colors, and stamped with unique dies in two colors
+ink.
+
+Price, 25c each, any 2 for 45c, 5 for $1.00 or the 12 for $2.00
+By mail or express, prepaid, to any address.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY
+407-429 Dearborn Street, Chicago
+
+
+
+
+NATURAL HISTORY STORIES.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+We have included in this series a carefully selected number of books
+that will fascinate and interest, as well as instruct, old and young
+alike. The books are printed from large, clear type; are profusely
+illustrated and are bound in a substantial and attractive manner in
+Cloth, artistically stamped in Inks from Unique Dies.
+
+Price of each book is $1.00, postpaid.
+
+History of Animals, Their Varieties and Oddities.
+
+Comprising graphic descriptions of nearly all known species of beasts
+and reptiles the world over, illustrating their varied habits, mode of
+life and distinguishing peculiarities by means of delightful anecdotes
+and spirited engravings, by the. Rev. W. Bingley, A. M. Containing 586
+pages of large, clear type, and over 500 illustrations; bound in Cloth;
+stamped in silks from unique dies.
+
+Price, $1.00.
+
+History of Birds.
+
+Containing their varieties and habits, and comprising sketches of every
+known species of birds in all climes; illustrating their use, value and
+culture, by the Rev. W. Bingley, A. M. Containing 500 pages of clear
+type text and nearly 500 illustrations, made especially for this work;
+bound in Cloth and stamped in Inks from unique dies. Large 12mo, 6-1/2 x
+9 inches.
+
+Price, $1.00.
+
+History of the Sea.
+
+Comprising a complete description of all the varieties of the finny
+inhabitants of the sea, showing their mode of life, and illustrating
+their habits and usefulness, by Rev. W. Bingley, A. M. Containing over
+500 pages of large, clear type, and nearly 500 illustrations; bound in
+Cloth; stamped in Inks from unique dies.
+
+Price, $1.00.
+
+For sale by all Book and News Dealers, or will be sent to any address in
+the United States, Canada or Mexico, postage paid, on receipt of price,
+in currency, money order or stamps.
+
+M. A. Donahue & Co.
+407-420 Dearborn St.
+Chicago
+
+
+
+
+LIVES OF FAMOUS MEN
+Edited by Charles Walter Brown, A. M.
+
+In this series of historical and biographical works the publishers have
+included only such books as will interest and instruct the youth of both
+sexes. A copy should be in every public school and private library.
+Special discount made when entire set is ordered. They are printed from
+large, clear type on an excellent quality of paper and substantially and
+attractively bound in cloth, stamped in inks and gold from original
+designs. Each book is fully illustrated. Price, $1.00 per copy,
+postpaid.
+
+LIFE OF GEORGE WASHINGTON.
+By George Washington Parke Curtis, the adopted son of our first
+president. Cloth, 664 pages, large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
+By Hon. Joseph H. Barrett, ex-member of Congress, Cloth, 842 pages,
+large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF U. S. GRANT.
+By Hon. B. P. Poore and Rev. O. H. Tiffany, D. D. Cloth, 594 pages,
+large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF WILLIAM McKINLEY.
+By Murat Halstead, Chauncey M. Depew and John Sherman, Cloth, 450 pages,
+large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF THEODORE ROOSEVELT.
+By Thomas W. Handford. Cloth, 255 pages, large, 16mo.
+
+LIFE OF HENRY M. STANLEY,
+By A. M. Godbey, A. M. Cloth, 560 pages, large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF JOHN PAUL JONES.
+By Charles Walter Brown, A. M. Cloth, nearly 300 pages, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF ETHAN ALLEN,
+By Charles Walter Brown, A. M. Cloth, nearly 300 pages, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF W. T. SHERMAN.
+By Hon. W. Fletcher Johnson and Gen. O. O. Howard. Cloth, 607 pages,
+large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF P. T. BARNUM.
+By Hon. Joel Benton. Cloth, 621 pages, large, 12mo.
+
+LIFE OF T. DEWITT TALMAGE.
+By Charles Francis Adams. Cloth, nearly 500 pages.
+
+LIFE OF D. L. MOODY.
+By Charles Francis Adams. Cloth, 318 pages, large, 12mo.
+
+For sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any address in
+the United States, Canada or Mexico, upon receipt of price in currency,
+stamps, postal or express money order.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
+407-429 Dearborn St.
+CHICAGO.
+
+
+
+
+"HARKAWAY" SERIES OF BOOKS FOR BOYS
+By Bracebridge Hemyng
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Jack Harkaway's School Days" is one of the most fascinating and
+instructive books for boys published, and should be read by every boy
+before his 15th year. After reading this book the other 14 should be
+read in the order in which they are given since each is a continuation
+of the one preceding.
+
+They are uniformly bound in linen cloth, stamped with original designs,
+in inks, on backs and sides.
+
+Price Per Volume, 75 Cents
+
+"No more readable books for the young have ever been printed than these
+fifteen volumes."--Book and Newsdealer.
+
+ 1 Jack Harkaway's School Days
+ 2 Jack Harkaway After School Days
+ 3 Jack Harkaway Afloat and Ashore
+ 4 Jack Harkaway at Oxford, Part 1
+ 5 Jack Harkaway at Oxford, Part 2
+ 6 Jack Harkaway Among the Brigands, Part 1
+ 7 Jack Harkaway Among the Brigands, Part 2
+ 8 Jack Harkaway's Adventures Around the World
+ 9 Jack Harkaway in America and Cuba
+10 Jack Harkaway's Adventures in China
+11 Jack Harkaway's Adventures in Greece, Part 1
+12 Jack Harkaway's Adventures in Greece, Part 2
+13 Jack Harkaway's Adventures in Australia
+14 Jack Harkaway and His Boy Tinker, Part 1
+15 Jack Harkaway and His Boy Tinker, Part 2
+
+For sale by all book and newsdealers or will be sent postpaid upon
+receipt of price, in currency, money order or stamps, to any address in
+the United States, Canada or Mexico.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
+407-429 Dearborn St.
+CHICAGO
+
+
+
+
+THE GREATEST LIFE OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN YET PUBLISHED
+
+By Hon. Jos. H. Barrett,
+and Charles Walter. Brown, A. M.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+In this great work which embraces the complete life of the greatest man
+of modern times, nothing has been omitted or slighted. His early
+History, Political Career, Speeches, both in and out of Congress, the
+great Lincoln-Douglas Debates, every state paper, speech, message and
+two inaugural addresses are given in full, together with many
+characteristic STORIES AND YARNS by and concerning Lincoln, which have
+earned for him the sobriquet "The Story Telling President."
+
+In addition there is included a COMPLETE ACCOUNT OF HIS ASSASSINATION,
+death and burial, together with the trial and execution of his
+assassins.
+
+This immense volume of 850 pages contains nearly 360,000 words, being
+six times larger than the average school history. Size of book 6-1/2x9,
+3 inches thick, weighing nearly 3 pounds.
+
+Price, $1.00
+
+Sent postpaid to any address in the United States, Canada or Mexico upon
+receipt of price, in currency, express or postal money order or stamps.
+
+M. A. Donohue & Co.
+407-429 Dearborn Street
+CHICAGO
+
+
+
+
+THE COMPLETE GUIDE TO BLACKSMITHING, HORSESHOEING, CARRIAGE AND WAGON
+BUILDING AND PAINTING
+
+[Illustration]
+
+For all general mechanical work, this is the most valuable book for the
+farmer, blacksmith, carpenter, carriage and wagon building, painting and
+varnishing trades published. The department on Blacksmithing is based on
+the various text books by Prof. A. Lungwitz, Director of the Shoeing
+School of the Royal Veterinary College at Dresden, while the chapters on
+Carriage and Wagon Building, Painting, Varnishing are by Charles F.
+Adams, one of the most successful builders in Wisconsin. The language
+employed is so simple that any young man of average ability can, in a
+short time become proficient in all of these useful and profitable
+occupations. Each chapter is fully illustrated, there being more than 50
+drawings throughout the book.
+
+Full Cloth Binding, Price, $1.00
+
+THE COMPLETE HOUSE BUILDER
+With Practical Hints on Construction
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The subject of house building is of interest to all, even though
+financially they are at present unable to realize their cherished hopes.
+A few months or a year may so change the aspect of one's affairs as to
+render it possible to build. It is therefore well for all to anticipate
+the realization of a home and become familiar with the requisites of a
+good house, barn, warehouse or other necessary building. This valuable
+work contains not only Plans and Specifications for Dwellings, but
+Clubs, Churches, Public Buildings, Barns, and all necessary outbuildings
+for Farms, Country Seats, Suburban Homes, etc.; accurate estimates of
+materials with cost, and all Tables and Rules necessary in Plastering,
+Plumbing, Painting, Roofing, Masonry, Cornice, Windows, Doors and Porch
+Materials, with 50 plans and Specifications on buildings from $476
+given. 376 pages, 12mo.
+
+Paper, 25 Cents; Cloth, 50 Cents.
+
+For sale by all Book and News Dealers, or will be sent to any address in
+the U. S., Canada or Mexico, postage paid, on receipt of price, in
+currency, money order or stamps.
+
+M.A. DONOHUE & CO.
+407-429 DEARBORN ST.
+CHICAGO
+
+
+
+
+COMPLETE HYPNOTISM
+Or, How to Hypnotize
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A manual of self-instruction based on the new and improved system of
+mental and bodily healing. Pronounced by all who have read it to be the
+most fascinating and instructive book of its kind published. Inductive
+Hypnotism, Mesmerism, Suggestive Therapeutics and Magnetic Healing,
+including Telepathy, Mind Reading and Spiritualism fully treated. Nearly
+100 lessons especially prepared for self-instruction. This is positively
+the best book on Hypnotism published. Fully illustrated.
+
+Paper covers, 25 cents; Cloth, 50 cents.
+
+THE COMPLETE PALMIST
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Prepared for self-instruction by Ina Oxenford, the world-renowned author
+and acknowledged authority on Palmistry. This is the simplest
+presentation of the science of Modern Palmistry published. There is no
+trait, no characteristic, no inherited tendency that is not marked on
+the palm of the hand and can be traced with unerring accuracy by
+following the instructions given in this book. Even a casual reading
+will enable one to know his own character better and give convincing
+proof of the constancy of friends, or the professing ones. The Bible
+attests the truth of Palmistry.
+
+Paper covers, 25 cents; Cloth, 50 cents.
+
+THE MYSTIC FORTUNE TELLER,
+Dream Book and Policy Players' Guide
+
+[Illustration]
+
+This book contains an alphabetical list of dreams with their
+significations and lucky numbers, and the getting of fortunes by the
+Mystic Circle, Cards Dice, Coffee and Tea Grounds, etc. Also a list of
+curious superstitions and omens, birthdays, lucky day, their
+significance and their numbers. It is unquestionably the best and most
+reliable book of its kind published and is worth many times the price
+asked for it.
+
+Paper covers, 25 cents; Cloth, 50 cents.
+
+For sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any address in
+the United States, Canada or Mexico upon receipt of price in currency,
+postal or express money order.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
+407-429 Dearborn Street
+CHICAGO
+
+
+
+
+COMIC READINGS AND RECITATIONS
+Compiled by CHARLES WALTER. BROWN, A. M.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Few of the selections contained in this book have ever before appeared
+in print. Copyright matter has been procured at great expense from the
+greatest wits of the age. Such delightful entertainers as Ezra Kendall,
+Lew Dockstadter, Josh Billings, James Whitcomb Kiley, Marshall P.
+Wilder, Mark Twain, Bret Harte, Opie Read, Bill Nye, Petroleum V.
+Nashby, Artemus Ward, together with the best from "Puck," "Judge,"
+"Life," "Detroit Free Press," "Arizona Kicker," renders this book the
+best of its kind published.
+
+Paper covers, printed in two colors on enameled paper, 25 cents.
+Cloth, gold titles, original designs, stamped in inks, 50 cents.
+
+THE AMERICAN STAR SPEAKER AND MODEL ELOCUTIONIST
+By CHARLES WALTER. BROWN, A. M.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Many Speakers are advertised to be the best, but a comparison is all
+that is necessary to convince anyone that our claim that The American
+Star Speaker & Model Elocutionist is beyond all question the best from
+an Elocutionary point of view. Of the 500 or more selections there is
+not one that is not available for reading on any desired occasion. The
+treatise on Acting, Delsarte, Elocution, Oratory and Physical Culture is
+by the professor of these departments in the Missouri State University,
+while its mechanical make-up is that of a work of art, for the text and
+half-tone illustrations are the best made. No home, school, church,
+club, literary society, lodge or library is complete without this book.
+It gives more for the money than any similar work published. Space
+forbids further details. Satisfaction is guaranteed. Elegantly and
+substantially printed and bound in the best silk cloth, the national
+emblems being stamped from artistic designs in the patriotic colors.
+Price, $1.00
+
+For sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any address in
+the United States, Canada or Mexico upon receipt of price in currency,
+postal or express money order.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
+407-429 Dearborn St.,
+CHICAGO
+
+
+
+
+DOROTHY VERNON
+or, THE BEAUTY of HADDON HALL
+
+The author has produced a powerful love story, replete with stirring
+and pathetic incidents. This book will be read and re-read with
+increasing interest, and will long be remembered as one of the purest,
+sweetest and most romantic of modern love stories. It is creating a
+great sensation.
+
+12mo, Paper   Price, $0.35
+12mo, Cloth     "     1.00
+
+SWEET DANGER
+By Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
+
+The public has long awaited a prose work from the pen of this gifted
+writer that should deal with the sentiments and emotions as forcibly as
+she has done in verse. "Sweet Danger," represents that effort in the
+fullest sense. It is creating a sensation even among readers of the
+French school of fiction.
+
+12mo, Paper   Price, $0.50
+12mo, Cloth     "     1.25
+
+MADAME DUBARRY, The King's Mistress
+by George Moorehead.
+
+Mrs. Leslie Carter, the famous American actress, having selected
+Madame Dubarry as the central figure in her new play, the life story
+of the famous mistress of Louis XV of France becomes a topic of
+universal interest to American readers.
+
+12mo, Paper   Price, $0.50
+12mo, Cloth     "     1.25
+
+TOLD BY TWO
+By Marie St. Felix
+
+Author of "Little Game With Destiny," "Two Bad Brown Eyes,"
+"Patricia," Etc.
+
+This book is full of thrilling romance, with innumerable happenings to a
+giddy young married woman of New York and a bachelor from Boston. Plenty
+of rich, spicy dialogue--it is replete with up-to-date expletives.
+Lovers of realistic fiction will revel in this literary feast.
+
+12mo, Paper   Price, $0.50
+12mo, Cloth     "     1.25
+
+ANY THREE IN PAPER COVERS FOR $1.00, OR THE 4 FOR $1.30
+
+Sent postpaid to any address in the United States, Canada or Mexico
+upon receipt of price, in currency, express or postal money order or
+stamps.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
+407-429 Dearborn St.,
+CHICAGO
+
+
+
+
+FAMOUS BOOKS FOR BOYS
+
+These are new and superior editions of these famous authors' books for
+boys. They are printed from new plates on an excellent quality of paper
+while many are profusely illustrated. Each book is sewed, thus making a
+flexible back, so that it opens easily, making its reading a pleasure
+and a comfort. The covers are printed in two colors from appropriate
+designs on a heavy coated enameled paper in assorted colors.
+
+FROM THE MODERN AUTHORS' LIBRARY
+
+By Q. A. Henty
+
+260 Boy Knight, A
+271 Cornet of Horse
+280 Facing Death
+285 Final Reckoning
+295 In Freedom's Cause
+298 In Times of Peril
+297 In the Reign of Terror
+299 Jack Archer
+317 One of the 28th
+318 Orange and Green
+319 Out on the Pampas
+337 True to the Old Flag
+349 Under Drake's Flag
+348 With Lee in Virginia
+
+By J. Fenimore Cooper
+
+170 Last of the Mohicans, The
+178 Pathfinder, The
+179 Pioneers, The
+180 Prairie, The
+187 Spy, The
+354 Deerslayer
+
+By Victor Hugo
+
+ 36 By Order of the King
+272 Cosette
+283 Fantine
+106 Hans of Iceland
+ 37 History of a Crime
+300 Jean Valjean
+308 Marins
+ 38 Ninety-Three
+ 39 Notre Dame de Paris
+331 St. Denis
+ 40 Toilers of the Sea
+
+By Emile Gaboriau
+
+284 File No. 113--
+287 Gilded Clique
+108 Lecoq, the Detective
+199 Lerouge Case, The
+312 Mystery of Orcival
+
+By Jules Verne
+
+245 Michael Strogoff
+219 Mysterious Island
+180 Tour of the World in 80 Days
+121 Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
+
+By H. Rider Haggard
+
+158 Allan Quatermain
+223 Allan's Wife
+160 Cleopatra
+100 Jess
+167 King Solomon's Mines
+112 Miawa's Revenge
+244 Mr. Meeson's Will
+186 She
+
+Price, Postpaid 25c Each or Any Five for $1.00
+
+For sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any address in
+the United States, Canada or Mexico upon receipt of price in currency,
+stamps, postal or express money order.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
+407-429 Dearborn St., CHICAGO
+
+
+
+
+FORTUNE TELLING, MAGIC, TABLEAUX, PANTOMIMES, PLAYS, SPEAKERS, ETC.
+
+Twentieth Century Wonder Book
+By Wm. C. Hunter
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A store-house of wonderful things for the entertainment, instruction,
+information and amusement of the home circle. A book for everybody;
+embracing riddles, conundrums and autograph album mottoes, lessons in
+parlor magic, interesting parlor games, clairvoyant, the language of
+flowers, chemical experiments, tableau, pantomimes and true
+interpretation of dreams, prognostications by cards explaining all cards
+and how to define them, charms, charades, how to delineate character,
+signs, omens, fortune telling, etc., etc. The most wonderful book ever
+compiled.
+
+Bound in Cloth....50c.
+Bound in Paper....25c.
+
+DEARBORN SPEAKER
+
+182 Pages
+12mo, Cloth
+
+Embracing original and select readings, recitations, declamations and
+dialogues, with introductory observations of eminent elocutionists and
+dramatists on the study and practice of elocution. Printed from new
+plates, substantially bound, with title stamped in gold.
+
+Price....75c.
+
+TOMMY'S FIRST SPEAKER
+
+160 Pages, 12mo, Cloth
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Containing selections for boys and girls that are simple, serious,
+quaint and pleasant and so short that they can be easily memorized.
+Over 300 selections, bound in art vellum cloth, titles stamped on the
+front.
+
+Price....50c.
+
+TOMMY'S SECOND SPEAKER
+
+160 Pages, 12mo, Cloth
+
+Comprising selections for boys and girls of a more advanced age than
+those for whom Tommy's First Speaker was written Over 200 selections,
+bound in art vellum cloth, title stamped on front cover in ink from
+ornamental design.
+
+Price....50c.
+
+M. A. DONOHUE & CO., CHICAGO.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Not Like Other Girls, by Rosa N. Carey
+
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