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diff --git a/old/scch10.txt b/old/scch10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0f11b64 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/scch10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10967 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Scenes and Characters, by Charlotte M. Yonge +(#25 in our series by Charlotte M. Yonge) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Scenes and Characters + +Author: Charlotte M. Yonge + +Release Date: January, 2004 [EBook #4944] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on April 2, 2002] +[Most recently updated: April 2, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, SCENES AND CHARACTERS *** + + + + +Transcribed from the 1889 Macmillan and Co. edition by David Price, +email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + +SCENES AND CHARACTERS, OR, EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT + + + + +PREFACE + + + +Of those who are invited to pay a visit to Beechcroft, there are some +who, honestly acknowledging that amusement is their object, will be +content to feel with Lilias, conjecture with Jane, and get into +scrapes with Phyllis, without troubling themselves to extract any +moral from their proceedings; and to these the Mohun family would +only apologise for having led a very humdrum life during the eighteen +months spent in their company. + +There may, however, be more unreasonable visitors, who, professing +only to come as parents and guardians, expect entertainment for +themselves, as well as instruction for those who had rather it was +out of sight,--look for antiques in carved cherry-stones,--and +require plot, incident, and catastrophe in a chronicle of small beer. + +To these the Mohuns beg respectfully to observe, that they hope their +examples may not be altogether devoid of indirect instruction; and +lest it should be supposed that they lived without object, aim, or +principle, they would observe that the maxim which has influenced the +delineation of the different Scenes and Characters is, that feeling, +unguided and unrestrained, soon becomes mere selfishness; while the +simple endeavour to fulfil each immediate claim of duty may lead to +the highest acts of self-devotion. + +NEW COURT, BEECHCROFT, +18th January. + + + +PREFACE (1886) + + + +Perhaps this book is an instance to be adduced in support of the +advice I have often given to young authors--not to print before they +themselves are old enough to do justice to their freshest ideas. + +Not that I can lay claim to its being a production of tender and +interesting youth. It was my second actual publication, and I +believe I was of age before it appeared--but I see now the failures +that more experience might have enabled me to avoid; and I would not +again have given it to the world if the same characters recurring in +another story had not excited a certain desire to see their first +start. + +In fact they have been more or less my life-long companions. An +almost solitary child, with periodical visits to the Elysium of a +large family, it was natural to dream of other children and their +ways and sports till they became almost realities. They took shape +when my French master set me to write letters for him. The letters +gradually became conversation and narrative, and the adventures of +the family sweetened the toils of French composition. In the +exigencies of village school building in those days gone by, before +in every place + + +"It there behoved him to set up the standard of her Grace," + + +the tale was actually printed for private sale, as a link between +translations of short stories. + +This process only stifled the family in my imagination for a time. +They awoke once more with new names, but substantially the same, and +were my companions in many a solitary walk, the results of which were +scribbled down in leisure moments to be poured into my mother's ever +patient and sympathetic ears. + +And then came the impulse to literature for young people given by the +example of that memorable book the Fairy Bower, and followed up by +Amy Herbert. It was felt that elder children needed something of a +deeper tone than the Edgeworthian style, yet less directly religious +than the Sherwood class of books; and on that wave of opinion, my +little craft floated out into the great sea of the public. + +Friends, whose kindness astonished me, and fills me with gratitude +when I look back on it, gave me seasonable criticism and pruning, and +finally launched me. My heroes and heroines had arranged themselves +so as to work out a definite principle, and this was enough for us +all. + +Children's books had not been supposed to require a plot. Miss +Edgeworth's, which I still continue to think gems in their own line, +are made chronicles, or, more truly, illustrations of various truths +worked out upon the same personages. Moreover, the skill of a Jane +Austen or a Mrs. Gaskell is required to produce a perfect plot +without doing violence to the ordinary events of an every-day life. +It is all a matter of arrangement. Mrs. Gaskell can make a perfect +little plot out of a sick lad and a canary bird; and another can do +nothing with half a dozen murders and an explosion; and of arranging +my materials so as to build up a story, I was quite incapable. It is +still my great deficiency; but in those days I did not even +understand that the attempt was desirable. Criticism was a more +thorough thing in those times than it has since become through the +multiplicity of books to be hurried over, and it was often very +useful, as when it taught that such arrangement of incident was the +means of developing the leading idea. + +Yet, with all its faults, the children, who had been real to me, +caught, chiefly by the youthful sense of fun and enjoyment, the +attention of other children; and the curious semi-belief one has in +the phantoms of one's brain made me dwell on their after life and +share my discoveries with my friends, not, however, writing them down +till after the lapse of all these years the tenderness inspired by +associations of early days led to taking up once more the old +characters in The Two Sides of the Shield; and the kind welcome this +has met with has led to the resuscitation of the crude and +inexperienced tale which never pretended to be more than a mere +family chronicle. + +C. M. YONGE. +6th October 1886. + + + +CHAPTER I--THE ELDER SISTER + + + +'Return, and in the daily round + Of duty and of love, +Thou best wilt find that patient faith + That lifts the soul above.' + +Eleanor Mohun was the eldest child of a gentleman of old family, and +good property, who had married the sister of his friend and +neighbour, the Marquis of Rotherwood. The first years of her life +were marked by few events. She was a quiet, steady, useful girl, +finding her chief pleasure in nursing and teaching her brothers and +sisters, and her chief annoyance in her mamma's attempts to make her +a fine lady; but before she had reached her nineteenth year she had +learnt to know real anxiety and sorrow. Her mother, after suffering +much from grief at the loss of her two brothers, fell into so +alarming a state of health, that her husband was obliged immediately +to hurry her away to Italy, leaving the younger children under the +care of a governess, and the elder boys at school, while Eleanor +alone accompanied them. + +Their absence lasted nearly three years, and during the last winter, +an engagement commenced between Eleanor and Mr. Francis Hawkesworth, +rather to the surprise of Lady Emily, who wondered that he had been +able to discover the real worth veiled beneath a formal and retiring +manner, and to admire features which, though regular, had a want of +light and animation, which diminished their beauty even more than the +thinness and compression of the lips, and the very pale gray of the +eyes. + +The family were about to return to England, where the marriage was to +take place, when Lady Emily was attacked with a sudden illness, which +her weakened frame was unable to resist, and in a very few days she +died, leaving the little Adeline, about eight months old, to +accompany her father and sister on their melancholy journey +homewards. This loss made a great change in the views of Eleanor, +who, as she considered the cares and annoyances which would fall on +her father, when left to bear the whole burthen of the management of +the children and household, felt it was her duty to give up her own +prospects of happiness, and to remain at home. How could she leave +the tender little ones to the care of servants--trust her sisters to +a governess, and make her brothers' home yet more dreary? She knew +her father to be strong in sense and firm in judgment, but indolent, +indulgent, and inattentive to details, and she could not bear to +leave him to be harassed by the petty cares of a numerous family, +especially when broken in spirits and weighed down with sorrow. She +thought her duty was plain, and, accordingly, she wrote to Mr. +Hawkesworth, to beg him to allow her to withdraw her promise. + +Her brother Henry was the only person who knew what she had done, and +he alone perceived something of tremulousness about her in the midst +of the even cheerfulness with which she had from the first supported +her father's spirits. Mr. Mohun, however, did not long remain in +ignorance, for Frank Hawkesworth himself arrived at Beechcroft to +plead his cause with Eleanor. He knew her value too well to give her +up, and Mr. Mohun would not hear of her making such a sacrifice for +his sake. But Eleanor was also firm, and after weeks of unhappiness +and uncertainty, it was at length arranged that she should remain at +home till Emily was old enough to take her place, and that Frank +should then return from India and claim his bride. + +Well did she discharge the duties which she had undertaken; she kept +her father's mind at ease, followed out his views, managed the boys +with discretion and gentleness, and made her sisters well-informed +and accomplished girls; but, for want of fully understanding the +characters of her two next sisters, Emily and Lilias, she made some +mistakes with regard to them. The clouds of sorrow, to her so dark +and heavy, had been to them but morning mists, and the four years +which had changed her from a happy girl into a thoughtful, anxious +woman, had brought them to an age which, if it is full of the follies +of childhood, also partakes of the earnestness of youth; an age when +deep foundations of enduring confidence may be laid by one who can +enter into and direct the deeper flow of mind and feeling which lurks +hid beneath the freaks and fancies of the early years of girlhood. +But Eleanor had little sympathy for freaks and fancies. She knew the +realities of life too well to build airy castles with younger and +gayer spirits; her sisters' romance seemed to her dangerous folly, +and their lively nonsense levity and frivolity. They were too +childish to share in her confidence, and she was too busy and too +much preoccupied to have ear or mind for visionary trifles, though to +trifles of real life she paid no small degree of attention. + +It might have been otherwise had Henry Mohun lived; but in the midst +of the affection of all who knew him, honour from those who could +appreciate his noble character, and triumphs gained by his uncommon +talents, he was cut off by a short illness, when not quite nineteen, +a most grievous loss to his family, and above all, to Eleanor. +Unlike her, as he was joyous, high-spirited, full of fun, and +overflowing with imagination and poetry, there was a very close bond +of union between them, in the strong sense of duty, the firmness of +purpose, and energy of mind which both possessed, and which made +Eleanor feel perfect reliance on him, and look up to him with earnest +admiration. With him alone she was unreserved; he was the only +person who could ever make her show a spark of liveliness, and on his +death, it was only with the most painful efforts that she could +maintain her composed demeanour and fulfil her daily duties. Years +passed on, and still she felt the blank which Harry had left, almost +as much as the first day that she heard of his death, but she never +spoke of him, and to her sisters it seemed as if he was forgotten. +The reserve which had begun to thaw under his influence, again +returning, placed her a still greater distance from the younger +girls, and unconsciously she became still more of a governess and +less of a sister. Little did she know of the 'blissful dreams in +secret shared' between Emily, Lilias, and their brother Claude, and +little did she perceive the danger that Lilias would be run away with +by a lively imagination, repressed and starved, but entirely +untrained. + +Whatever influenced Lilias, had, through her, nearly the same effect +upon Emily, a gentle girl, easily led, especially by Lilias, whom she +regarded with the fondest affection and admiration. The perils of +fancy and romance were not, however, to be dreaded for Jane, the +fourth sister, a strong resemblance of Eleanor in her clear common +sense, love of neatness, and active usefulness; but there were other +dangers for her, in her tendency to faults, which, under wise +training, had not yet developed themselves. + +Such were the three girls who were now left to assist each other in +the management of the household, and who looked forward to their new +offices with the various sensations of pleasure, anxiety, self- +importance, and self-mistrust, suited to their differing characters, +and to the ages of eighteen, sixteen, and fourteen. + + + +CHAPTER II--THE NEW COURT + + + +'Just at the age 'twixt boy and youth, +When thought is speech, and speech is truth.' + +The long-delayed wedding took place on the 13th of January, 1845, and +the bride and bridegroom immediately departed for a year's visit +among Mr. Hawkesworth's relations in Northumberland, whence they were +to return to Beechcroft, merely for a farewell, before sailing for +India. + +It was half-past nine in the evening, and the wedding over--Mr. and +Mrs. Hawkesworth gone, and the guests departed, the drawing-room had +returned to its usual state. It was a very large room, so spacious +that it would have been waste and desolate, had it not been well +filled with handsome, but heavy old-fashioned furniture, covered with +crimson damask, and one side of the room fitted up with a bookcase, +so high that there was a spiral flight of library steps to give +access to the upper shelves. Opposite were four large windows, now +hidden by their ample curtains; and near them was at one end of the +room a piano, at the other a drawing-desk. The walls were wainscoted +with polished black oak, the panels reflecting the red fire-light +like mirrors. Over the chimney-piece hung a portrait, by Vandyke, of +a pale, dark cavalier, of noble mien, and with arched eyebrows, +called by Lilias, in defiance of dates, by the name of Sir Maurice de +Mohun, the hero of the family, and allowed by every one to be a +striking likeness of Claude, the youth who at that moment lay, +extending a somewhat superfluous length of limb upon the sofa, which +was placed commodiously at right angles to the fire. + +The other side of the fire was Mr. Mohun's special domain, and there +he sat at his writing-table, abstracted by deafness and letter +writing, from the various sounds of mirth and nonsense, which +proceeded from the party round the long narrow sofa table, which they +had drawn across the front of the fire, leaving the large round +centre table in darkness and oblivion. + +This party had within the last half hour been somewhat thinned; the +three younger girls had gone to bed, the Rector of Beechcroft, Mr. +Robert Devereux, had been called home to attend some parish business, +and there remained Emily and Lilias--tall graceful girls, with soft +hazel eyes, clear dark complexions, and a quantity of long brown +curls. The latter was busily completing a guard for the watch, which +Mr. Hawkesworth had presented to Reginald, a fine handsome boy of +eleven, who, with his elbows on the table, sat contemplating her +progress, and sometimes teasing his brother Maurice, who was +earnestly engaged in constructing a model with some cards, which he +had pilfered from the heap before Emily. She was putting her +sister's wedding cards into their shining envelopes, and directing +them in readiness for the post the next morning, while they were +sealed by a youth of the same age as Claude, a small slim figure, +with light complexion and hair, and dark gray eyes full of brightness +and vivacity. + +He was standing, so as to be more on a level with the high candle, +and as Emily's writing was not quite so rapid as his sealing, he +amused himself in the intervals with burning his own fingers, by +twisting the wax into odd shapes. + +'Why do you not seal up his eyes?' inquired Reginald, with an arch +glance towards his brother on the sofa. + +'Do it yourself, you rogue,' was the answer, at the same time +approaching with the hot sealing-wax in his hand--a demonstration +which occasioned Claude to open his eyes very wide, without giving +himself any further trouble about the matter. + +'Eh?' said he, 'now they try to look innocent, as if no one could +hear them plotting mischief.' + +'Them! it was not!--Redgie there--young ladies--I appeal--was not I +as innocent?'--was the very rapid, incoherent, and indistinct answer. + +'After so lucid and connected a justification, no more can be said,' +replied Claude, in a kind of 'leave me, leave me to repose' tone, +which occasioned Lilias to say, 'I am afraid you are very tired.' + +'Tired! what has he done to tire him?' + +'I am sure a wedding is a terrible wear of spirits!' said Emily-- +'such excitement.' + +'Well--when I give a spectacle to the family next year, I mean to +tire you to some purpose.' + +'Eh?' said Mr. Mohun, looking up, 'is Rotherwood's wedding to be the +next?' + +'You ought to understand, uncle,' said Lord Rotherwood, making two +stops towards him, and speaking a little more clearly, 'I thought you +longed to get rid of your nephew and his concerns.' + +'You idle boy!' returned Mr. Mohun, 'you do not mean to have the +impertinence to come of age next year.' + +'As much as having been born on the 30th of July, 1825, can make me.' + +'But what good will your coming of age do us?' said Lilias, 'you will +be in London or Brighton, or some such stupid place.' + +'Do not be senseless, Lily,' returned her cousin. 'Devereux Castle +is to be in splendour--Hetherington in amazement--the county's hair +shall stand on end--illuminations, bonfires, feasts, balls, colours +flying, bands playing, tenants dining, fireworks--' + +'Hurrah! jolly! jolly!' shouted Reginald, dancing on the ottoman, +'and mind there are lots of squibs.' + +'And that Master Reginald Mohun has a new cap and bells for the +occasion,' said Lord Rotherwood. + +'Let me make some fireworks,' said Maurice. + +'You will begin like a noble baron of the hospitable olden time,' +said Lily. + +'It will be like the old days, when every birthday of yours was a +happy day for the people at Hetherington,' said Emily. + +'Ah! those were happy old days,' said Lord Rotherwood, in a graver +tone. + +'These are happy days, are not they?' said Lily, smiling. + +Her cousin answered with a sigh, 'Yes, but you do not remember the +old ones, Lily;' then, after a pause, he added, 'It was a grievous +mistake to shut up the castle all these years. We have lost sight of +everybody. I do not even know what has become of the Aylmers.' + +'They went to live in London,' said Emily, 'Aunt Robert used to write +to them there.' + +'I know, I know, but where are they now?' + +'In London, I should think,' said Emily. 'Some one said Miss Aylmer +was gone out as a governess.' + +'Indeed! I wish I could hear more! Poor Mr. Aylmer! He was the +first man who tried to teach me Latin. I wonder what has become of +that mad fellow Edward, and Devereux, my father's godson! Was not +Mrs. Aylmer badly off? I cannot bear that people should be +forgotten!' + +'It is not so very long that we have lost sight of them,' said Emily. + +'Eight years,' said Lord Rotherwood. 'He died six weeks after my +father. Well! I have made my mother promise to come home.' + +'Really?' said Lilias, 'she has been coming so often.' + +'Aye--but she is coming this time. She is to spend the winter at the +castle, and make acquaintance with all the neighbourhood.' + +'His lordship is romancing,' said Claude to Lily in a confidential +tone. + +'I'll punish you for suspecting me of talking hyperborean language-- +hyperbolical, I mean,' cried Lord Rotherwood; 'I'll make you dance +the Polka with all the beauty and fashion.' + +'Then I shall stay at Oxford till it is over,' said Claude. + +'You do not know what a treasure you will be,' said the Marquis, +'ladies like nothing so well as dancing with a fellow twice the +height he should be.' + +'Beware of putting me forward,' said Claude, rising, and, as he leant +against the chimney-piece, looking down from his height of six feet +three, with a patronising air upon his cousin, 'I shall be taken for +the hero, and you for my little brother.' + +'I wish I was,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'it would be much better fun. +I should escape the speechifying, the worst part of it.' + +'Yes,' said Claude, 'for one whose speeches will be scraps of three +words each, strung together with the burthen of the apprentices' +song, Radara tadara, tandore.' + +'Radaratade,' said the Marquis, laughing. 'By the bye, if Eleanor +and Frank Hawkesworth manage well, they may be here in time.' + +'Because they are so devoted to gaiety?' said Claude. 'You will say +next that William is coming from Canada, on purpose.' + +'That tall captain!' said Lord Rotherwood. 'He used to be a very +awful person.' + +'Ah! he used to keep the spoilt Marquis in order,' said Claude. + +'To say nothing of the spoilt Claude,' returned Lord Rotherwood. + +'Claude never was spoilt,' said Lily. + +'It was not Eleanor's way,' said Emily. + +'At least she cannot be accused of spoiling me,' said Lord +Rotherwood. 'I shall never dare to write at that round table again-- +her figure will occupy the chair like Banquo's ghost, and wave me off +with a knitting needle.' + +'Ah! that stain of ink was a worse blot on your character than on the +new table cover,' said Claude. + +'She was rigidly impartial,' said Lord Rotherwood. + +'No,' said Claude, 'she made exceptions in favour of Ada and me. She +left the spoiling of the rest to Emily.' + +'And well Emily will perform it! A pretty state you will be in by +the 30th of July, 1846,' said Lord Rotherwood. + +'Why should not Emily make as good a duenna as Eleanor?' said Lily. + +'Why should she not? She will not--that is all,' said the Marquis. +'Such slow people you all are! You would all go to sleep if I did +not sometimes rouse you up a little--grow stagnant.' + +'Not an elegant comparison,' said Lilias; 'besides, you must remember +that your hasty brawling streams do not reflect like tranquil lakes.' + +'One of Lily's poetical hits, I declare!' said Lord Rotherwood, 'but +she need not have taken offence--I did not refer to her--only Claude +and Emily, and perhaps--no, I will not say who else.' + +'Then, Rotherwood, I will tell you what I am--the Lily that derives +all its support from the calm lake.' + +'Well done, Lily, worthy of yourself,' cried Lord Rotherwood, +laughing, 'but you know I am always off when you talk poetry.' + +'I suspect it is time for us all to be off,' said Claude, 'did I not +hear it strike the quarter?' + +'And to-morrow I shall be off in earnest,' said Lord Rotherwood. +'Half way to London before Claude has given one turn to "his sides, +and his shoulders, and his heavy head."' + +'Shall we see you at Easter?' said Emily. + +'No, I do not think you will. I am engaged to stay with somebody +somewhere, I forget the name of place and man; besides, Grosvenor +Square is more tolerable then than at any other time of the year, and +I shall spend a fortnight with my mother and Florence. It is after +Easter that you come to Oxford, is it not, Claude?' + +'Yes, my year of idleness will be over. And there is the Baron +looking at his watch.' + +The 'Baron' was the title by which the young people were wont to +distinguish Mr. Mohun, who, as Lily believed, had a right to the +title of Baron of Beechcroft. It was certain that he was the +representative of a family which had been settled at Beechcroft ever +since the Norman Conquest, and Lily was very proud of the name of Sir +William de Moune in the battle roll, and of Sir John among the first +Knights of the Garter. Her favourite was Sir Maurice, who had held +out Beechcroft Court for six weeks against the Roundheads, and had +seen the greater part of the walls battered down. Witnesses of the +strength of the old castle yet remained in the massive walls and +broad green ramparts, which enclosed what was now orchard and farm- +yard, and was called the Old Court, while the dwelling-house, built +by Sir Maurice after the Restoration, was named the New Court. Sir +Maurice had lost many an acre in the cause of King Charles, and his +new mansion was better suited to the honest squires who succeeded +him, than to the mighty barons his ancestors. It was substantial and +well built, with a square gravelled court in front, and great, solid, +folding gates opening into a lane, bordered with very tall well- +clipped holly hedges, forming a polished, green, prickly wall. There +was a little door in one of these gates, which was scarcely ever +shut, from whence a well-worn path led to the porch, where generally +reposed a huge Newfoundland dog, guardian of the hoops and +walkingsticks that occupied the corners. The front door was of heavy +substantial oak, studded with nails, and never closed in the daytime, +and the hall, wainscoted and floored with slippery oak, had a noble +open fireplace, with a wood fire burning on the hearth. + +On the other side of the house was a terrace sloping down to a lawn +and bowling-green, hedged in by a formal row of evergreens. A noble +plane-tree was in the middle of the lawn, and beyond it a pond +renowned for water-lilies. To the left was the kitchen garden, +terminating in an orchard, planted on the ramparts and moat of the +Old Court; then came the farm buildings, and beyond them a field, +sloping upwards to an extensive wood called Beechcroft Park. In the +wood was the cottage of Walter Greenwood, gamekeeper and woodman by +hereditary succession, but able and willing to turn his hand to +anything, and, in fact, as Adeline once elegantly termed him, the +'family tee totum.' + +To the right of the house there was a field, called Long Acre, +bounded on the other side by the turnpike road to Raynham, which led +up the hill to the village green, surrounded by well-kept cottages +and gardens. The principal part of the village was, however, at the +foot of the hill, where the Court lane crossed the road, led to the +old church, the school, and parsonage, in its little garden, shut in +by thick yew hedges. Beyond was the blacksmith's shop, more +cottages, and Mrs. Appleton's wondrous village warehouse; and the +lane, after passing by the handsome old farmhouse of Mr. Harrington, +Mr. Mohun's principal tenant, led to a bridge across a clear trout +stream, the boundary of the parish of Beechcroft. + + + +CHAPTER III--THE NEW PRINCIPLE + + + +'And wilt thou show no more, quoth he, + Than doth thy duty bind? +I well perceive thy love is small.' + +On the Sunday evening which followed Eleanor's wedding, Lilias was +sitting next to Emily, and talking in very earnest tones, which after +a time occasioned Claude to look up and say, 'What is all this about? +Something remarkably absurd I suspect.' + +'Only a new principle,' said Emily. + +'New!' cried Lily, 'only what must be the feeling of every person of +any warmth of character?' + +'Now for it then,' said Claude. + +'No, no, Claude, I really mean it (and Lily sincerely thought she +did). I will not tell you if you are going to laugh.' + +'That depends upon what your principle may chance to be,' said +Claude. 'What is it, Emily? She will be much obliged to you for +telling.' + +'She only says she cannot bear people to do their duty, and not to +act from a feeling of love,' said Emily. + +'That is not fair,' returned Lily, 'all I say is, that it is better +that people should act upon love for its own sake, than upon duty for +its own sake.' + +'What comes in rhyme with Lily?' said Claude. + +'Don't be tiresome, Claude, I really want you to understand me.' + +'Wait till you understand yourself,' said the provoking brother, 'and +let me finish what I am reading.' + +For about a quarter of an hour he was left in peace, while Lily was +busily employed with a pencil and paper, under the shadow of a book, +and at length laid before him the following verses:- + + +'What is the source of gentleness, +The spring of human blessedness, +Bringing the wounded spirit healing, +The comforts high of heaven revealing, +The lightener of each daily care, +The wing of hope, the life of prayer, +The zest of joy, the balm of sorrow, +Bliss of to-day, hope of to-morrow, +The glory of the sun's bright beam, +The softness of the pale moon stream, +The flow'ret's grace, the river's voice, +The tune to which the birds rejoice; +Without it, vain each learned page, +Cold and unfelt each council sage, +Heavy and dull each human feature, +Lifeless and wretched every creature; +In which alone the glory lies, +Which value gives to sacrifice? +'Tis that which formed the whole creation, +Which rests on every generation. +Of Paradise the only token +Just left us, 'mid our treasures broken, +Which never can from us be riven, +Sure earnest of the joys of Heaven. +And which, when earth shall pass away, +Shall be our rest on the last day, +When tongues shall fail and knowledge cease, +And throbbing hearts be all at peace: +When faith is sight, and hope is sure, +That which alone shall still endure +Of earthly joys in heaven above, +'Tis that best gift, eternal Love!' + + +'What have you there?' said Mr. Mohun, who had come towards them +while Claude was reading the lines. Taking the paper from Claude's +hand, he read it to himself, and then saying, 'Tolerable, Lily; there +are some things to alter, but you may easily make it passable,' he +went on to his own place, leaving Lilias triumphant. + +'Well, Claude, you see I have the great Baron on my side.' + +'I am of the Baron's opinion,' said Claude, 'the only wonder is that +you doubted it.' + +'You seemed to say that love was good for nothing.' + +'I said nothing but that Lily has a rhyme.' + +'And saying that I was silly, was equivalent to saying that love was +nothing,' said Lily. + +'O Lily, I hope not,' said Claude, with a comical air. + +'Well, I know I often am foolish, but not in this,' said Lily; 'I do +say that mere duty is not lovable.' + +'Say it if you will then,' said Claude, yawning, 'only let me finish +this sermon.' + +Lily set herself to reconsider some of her lines: but presently +Emily left the room, Claude looked up, and Lily exclaimed, 'Now, +Claude, let us make a trial of it.' + +'Well,' said Claude, yawning again, and looking resigned. + +'Think how Eleanor went on telling us of duty, duty, duty--never +making allowances--never relaxing her stiff rules about trifles-- +never unbending from her duenna-like dignity--never showing one spark +of enthusiasm--making great sacrifices, but only because she thought +them her duty--because it was right--good for herself--only a higher +kind of selfishness--not because her feeling prompted her.' + +'Certainly, feeling does not usually prompt people to give up their +lovers for the sake of their brothers and sisters.' + +'She did it because it was her duty,' said Lily, 'quite as if she did +not care.' + +'I wonder whether Frank thought so,' said Claude. + +'At any rate you will confess that Emily is a much more engaging +person,' said Lily. + +'Certainly, I had rather talk nonsense to her,' said Claude. + +'You feel it, though you will not allow it,' said Lily. 'Now think +of Emily's sympathy, and gentleness, and sweet smile, and tell me if +she is not a complete personification of love. And then Eleanor, +unpoetical--never thrown off her balance by grief or joy, with no ups +and downs--no enthusiasm--no appreciation of the beautiful--her +highest praise "very right," and tell me if there can be a better +image of duty.' + +Claude might have had some chance of bringing Lily to her senses, if +he had allowed that there was some truth in what she had said; but he +thought the accusation so unjust in general, that he would not agree +to any part of it, and only answered, 'You have very strange views of +duty and of Eleanor.' + +'Well!' replied Lily, 'I only ask you to watch; Emily and I are +determined to act on the principle of love, and you will see if her +government is not more successful than that of duty.' + +Such was the principle upon which Lily intended her sister to govern +the household, and to which Emily listened without knowing what she +meant much better than she did herself. Emily's own views, as far as +she possessed any, were to get on as smoothly as she could, and make +everybody pleased and happy, without much trouble to herself, and +also to make the establishment look a little more as if a Lady Emily +had lately been its mistress, than had been the case in Eleanor's +time. Mr. Mohun's property was good, but he wished to avoid +unnecessary display and expense, and he expected his daughters to +follow out these views, keeping a wise check upon Emily, by looking +over her accounts every Saturday, and turning a deaf ear when she +talked of the age of the drawing-room carpet, and the ugliness of the +old chariot. Emily had a good deal on her hands, requiring sense and +activity, but Lilias and Jane were now quite old enough to assist +her. Lily however, thought fit to despise all household affairs, and +bestowed the chief of her attention on her own department--the +village school and poor people; and she was also much engrossed by +her music and drawing, her German and Italian, and her verse writing. + +Claude had more power over her than any one else. He was a gentle, +amiable boy, of high talent, but disposed to indolence by ill health. +In most matters he was, however, victorious over this propensity, +which was chiefly visible in his love of easy chairs, and his dislike +of active sports, which made him the especial companion of his +sisters. A dangerous illness had occasioned his removal from Eton, +and he had since been at home, reading with his cousin Mr. Devereux, +and sharing his sisters' amusements. + +Jane was in her own estimation an important member of the +administration, and in fact, was Emily's chief assistant and deputy. +She was very small and trimly made, everything fitted her precisely, +and she had tiny dexterous fingers, and active little feet, on which +she darted about noiselessly and swiftly as an arrow; an oval brown +face, bright colour, straight features, and smooth dark hair, bright +sparkling black eyes, a little mouth, wearing an arch subdued smile, +very white teeth, and altogether the air of a woman in miniature. +Brisk, bold, and blithe--ever busy and ever restless, she was +generally known by the names of Brownie and Changeling, which were +not inappropriate to her active and prying disposition. + +Excepting Claude and Emily, the young party were early risers, and +Lily especially had generally despatched a good deal of business +before the eight o'clock breakfast. + +At nine they went to church, Mr. Devereux having restored the custom +of daily service, and after this, Mr. Mohun attended to his +multitudinous affairs; Claude went to the parsonage,--Emily to the +storeroom, Lily to the village, the younger girls to the schoolroom, +where they were presently joined by Emily. Lily remained in her own +room till one o'clock, when she joined the others in the schoolroom, +and they read aloud some book of history till two, the hour of dinner +for the younger, and of luncheon for the elder. They then went out, +and on their return from evening service, which began at half-past +four, the little ones had their lessons to learn, and the others were +variously employed till dinner, the time of which was rather +uncertain but always late. The evening passed pleasantly and quickly +away in reading, work, music, and chatter. + +As Emily had expected, her first troubles were with Phyllis; called, +not the neat handed, by her sisters; Master Phyl, by her brothers; +and Miss Tomboy, by the maids. She seemed born to be a trial of +patience to all concerned with her; yet without many actual faults, +except giddiness, restlessness, and unrestrained spirits. In the +drawing-room, schoolroom, and nursery she was continually in scrapes, +and so often reproved and repentant, that her loud roaring fits of +crying were amongst the ordinary noises of the New Court. She was +terribly awkward when under constraint, or in learning any female +accomplishment, but swift and ready when at her ease, and glorying in +the boyish achievements of leaping ditches and climbing trees. Her +voice was rather highly pitched, and she had an inveterate habit of +saying, 'I'll tell you what,' at the beginning of all her speeches. +She was not tall, but strong, square, firm, and active; she had a +round merry face, a broad forehead, and large bright laughing eyes, +of a doubtful shade between gray and brown. Her mouth was wide, her +nose turned up, her complexion healthy, but not rosy, and her stiff +straight brown hair was more apt to hang over her eyes, than to +remain in its proper place behind her ears. + +Adeline was very different; her fair and brilliant complexion, her +deep blue eyes and golden ringlets, made her a very lovely little +creature; her quietness was a relief after her sister's boisterous +merriment, and her dislike of dirt and brambles, continually +contrasted with poor Phyllis's recklessness of such impediments. Ada +readily learnt lessons, which cost Phyllis and her teacher hours of +toil; Ada worked deftly when Phyllis's stiff fingers never willingly +touched a needle; Ada played with a doll, drew on scraps of paper, or +put up dissected maps, while Phyllis was in mischief or in the way. +A book was the only chance of interesting her; but very few books +took her fancy enough to occupy her long;--those few, however, she +read over and over again, and when unusual tranquillity reigned in +the drawing-room, she was sure to be found curled up at the top of +the library steps, reading one of three books--Robinson Crusoe, +Little Jack, or German Popular Tales. Then Emily blamed her +ungraceful position, Jane laughed at her uniform taste, and Lily +proposed some story about modern children, such as Phyllis never +could like, and the constant speech was repeated, 'Only look at Ada!' +till Phyllis considered her sister as a perfect model, and sighed +over her own naughtiness. + +German Popular Tales were a recent introduction of Claude's, for +Eleanor had carefully excluded all fairy tales from her sisters' +library; so great was her dread of works of fiction, that Emily and +Lilias had never been allowed to read any of the Waverley Novels, +excepting Guy Mannering, which their brother Henry had insisted upon +reading aloud to them the last time he was at home, and that had +taken so strong a hold on their imagination, that Eleanor was quite +alarmed. + +One day Mr. Mohun chanced to refer to some passage in Waverley, and +on finding that his daughters did not understand him, he expressed +great surprise at their want of taste. + +Poor things,' said Claude, 'they cannot help it; do not you know that +Eleanor thinks the Waverley Novels a sort of slow poison? They know +no more of them than their outsides.' + +'Well, the sooner they know the inside the better.' + +'Then may we really read them, papa?' cried Lily. + +'And welcome,' said her father. + +This permission once given, the young ladies had no idea of +moderation; Lily's heart and soul were wrapped up in whatever tale +she chanced to be reading--she talked of little else, she neglected +her daily occupations, and was in a kind of trance for about three +weeks. At length she was recalled to her senses by her father's +asking her why she had shown him no drawings lately. Lily hesitated +for a moment, and then said, 'Papa, I am sorry I was so idle.' + +'Take care,' said Mr. Mohun, 'let us be able to give a good account +of ourselves when Eleanor comes.' + +'I am afraid, papa,' said Lily, 'the truth is, that my head has been +so full of Woodstock for the last few days, that I could do nothing.' + +'And before that?' + +'The Bride of Lammermoor.' + +'And last week?' + +'Waverley. Oh! papa, I am afraid you must be very angry with me.' + +'No, no, Lily, not yet,' said Mr. Mohun, 'I do not think you quite +knew what an intoxicating draught you had got hold of; I should have +cautioned you. Your negligence has not yet been a serious fault, +though remember, that it becomes so after warning.' + +'Then,' said Lily, 'I will just finish Peveril at once, and get it +out of my head, and then read no more of the dear books,' and she +gave a deep sigh. + +'Lily would take the temperance pledge, on condition that she might +finish her bottle at a draught,' said Mr. Mohun. + +Lily laughed, and looked down, feeling quite unable to offer to give +up Peveril before she had finished it, but her father relieved her, +by saying in his kind voice, 'No, no, Lily, take my advice, read +those books, for most of them are very good reading, and very pretty +reading, and very useful reading, and you can hardly be called a +well-educated person if you do not know them; but read them only +after the duties of the day are done--make them your pleasure, but do +not make yourself their slave.' + +'Lily,' said Claude the next morning, as he saw her prepare her +drawing-desk, 'why are you not reading Peveril?' + +'You know what papa said yesterday,' was the answer. + +'Oh! but I thought your feelings were with poor Julian in the Tower,' +said Claude. + +'My feelings prompt me to sacrifice my pleasure in reading about him +to please papa, after he spoke so kindly.' + +'If that is always the effect of your principle, I shall think better +of it,' said Claude. + +Lily, whether from her new principle, or her old habits of obedience, +never ventured to touch one of her tempters till after five o'clock, +but, as she was a very rapid reader, she generally contrived to +devour more than a sufficient quantity every evening, so that she did +not enjoy them as much as she would, had she been less voracious in +her appetite, and they made her complain grievously of the dulness of +the latter part of Russell's Modern Europe, which was being read in +the schoolroom, and yawn nearly as much as Phyllis over the +'Pragmatic Sanction.' However, when that book was concluded, and +they began Palgrave's Anglo Saxons, Lily was seized within a sudden +historical fever. She could hardly wait till one o'clock, before she +settled herself at the schoolroom table with her work, and summoned +every one, however occupied, to listen to the reading. + + + +CHAPTER IV--HONEST PHYL + + + +'Multiplication +Is a vexation.' + +It was a bright and beautiful afternoon in March, the song of the +blackbird and thrush, and the loud chirp of the titmouse, came +merrily through the schoolroom window, mixed with the sounds of happy +voices in the garden; the western sun shone brightly in, and tinged +the white wainscoted wall with yellow light; the cat sat in the +window-seat, winking at the sun, and sleepily whisking her tail for +the amusement of her kitten, which was darting to and fro, and +patting her on the head, in the hope of rousing her to some more +active sport. + +But in the midst of all these joyous sights and sounds, was heard a +dolorous voice repeating, 'three and four are--three and four are--oh +dear! they are--seven, no, but I do not think it is a four after all, +is it not a one? Oh dear!' And on the floor lay Phyllis, her back +to the window, kicking her feet slowly up and down, and yawning and +groaning over her slate. + +Presently the door opened, and Claude looked in, and very nearly +departed again instantly, for Phyllis at that moment made a horrible +squeaking with her slate-pencil, the sound above all others that he +disliked. He, however, stopped, and asked where Emily was. + +'Out in the garden,' answered Phyllis, with a tremendous yawn. + +'What are you doing here, looking so piteous?' said Claude. + +'My sum,' said Phyllis. + +'Is this your time of day for arithmetic?' asked he. + +'No,' said Phyllis, 'only I had not done it by one o'clock to-day, +and Lily said I must finish after learning my lessons for to-morrow, +but I do not think I shall ever have done, it is so hard. Oh!' +(another stretch and a yawn, verging on a howl), 'and Jane and Ada +are sowing the flower-seeds. Oh dear! Oh dear!' and Phyllis's face +contracted, in readiness to cry. + +'And is that the best position for doing sums?' said Claude. + +'I was obliged to lie down here to get out of the way of Ada's sum,' +said Phyllis, getting up. + +'Get out of the way of Ada's sum?' repeated Claude. + +'Yes, she left it on the table where I was sitting, where I could see +it, and it is this very one, so I must not look at it; I wish I could +do sums as fast as she can.' + +'Could you not have turned the other side of the slate upwards?' said +Claude, smiling. + +'So I could!' said Phyllis, as if a new light had broken in upon her. +'But then I wanted to be out of sight of pussy, for I could not think +a bit, while the kitten was at play so prettily, and I kicked my +heels to keep from hearing the voices in the garden, for it does make +me so unhappy!' + +Some good-natured brothers would have told the little girl not to +mind, and sent her out to enjoy herself, but Claude respected +Phyllis's honesty too much to do so, and he said, 'Well, Phyl, let me +see the sum, and we will try if we cannot conquer it between us.' + +Phyllis's face cleared up in an instant, as she brought the slate to +her brother. + +'What is this?' said he; 'I do not understand.' + +'Compound Addition,' said Phyllis, 'I did one with Emily yesterday, +and this is the second.' + +'Oh! these are marks between the pounds, shillings, and pence,' said +Claude, 'I took them for elevens; well, I do not wonder at your +troubles, I could not do this sum as it is set.' + +'Could not you, indeed?' cried Phyllis, quite delighted. + +'No, indeed,' said Claude. 'Suppose we set it again, more clearly; +but how is this? When I was in the schoolroom we always had a sponge +fastened to the slate.' + +'Yes,' said Phyllis, 'I had one before Eleanor went, but my string +broke, and I lost it, and Emily always forgets to give me another. I +will run and wash the slate in the nursery; but how shall we know +what the sum is?' + +'Why, I suppose I may look at Ada's slate, though you must not,' said +Claude, laughing to himself at poor little honest simplicity, as he +applied himself to cut a new point to her very stumpy slate-pencil, +and she scampered away, and returned in a moment with her clean +slate. + +'Oh, how nice and fresh it all looks!' said she as he set down the +clear large figures. 'I cannot think how you can do it so evenly.' + +'Now, Phyl, do not let the pencil scream if you can help it.' + +Claude found that Phyllis's great difficulty was with the farthings. +She could not understand the fractional figures, and only knew thus +far, that 'Emily said it never meant four.' + +Claude began explaining, but his first attempt was far too +scientific. Phyllis gave a desponding sigh, looking so mystified, +that he began to believe that she was hopelessly dull, and to repent +of having offered to help her; but at last, by means of dividing a +card into four pieces, he succeeded in making her comprehend him, and +her eyes grew bright with the pleasure of understanding. + +Even then the difficulties were not conquered, her addition was very +slow, and dividing by twelve and twenty seemed endless work; at +length the last figure of the pounds was set down, the slate was +compared with Adeline's, and the sum pronounced to be right. Phyllis +capered up to the kitten and tossed it up in the air in her joy, then +coming slowly back to her brother, she said with a strange, awkward +air, hanging down her head, 'Claude, I'll tell you what--' + +'Well, what?' said Claude. + +'I should like to kiss you.' + +Then away she bounded, clattered down stairs, and flew across the +lawn to tell every one she met that Claude had helped her to do her +sum, and that it was quite right. + +'Did you expect that it would be too hard for him, Phyl?' said Jane, +laughing. + +'No,' said Phyllis, 'but he said he could not do it as it was set.' + +'And whose fault was that?' said Jane. + +'Oh! but he showed me how to set it better,' said Phyllis, 'and he +said that when he learnt the beginning of fractions, he thought them +as hard as I do.' + +'Fractions!' said Jane, 'you do not fancy you have come to fractions +yet! Fine work you will make of them when you do!' + +In the evening, as soon as the children were gone to bed, Jane took a +paper out of her work-basket, saying, 'There, Emily, is my account of +Phyl's scrapes through this whole week; I told you I should write +them all down.' + +'How kind!' muttered Claude. + +Regardless of her brother, who had not looked up from his book, Jane +began reading her list of poor Phyllis's misadventures. 'On Monday +she tore her frock by climbing a laurel-tree, to look at a +blackbird's nest.' + +'I gave her leave,' said Emily. 'Rachel had ordered her not to +climb; and she was crying because she could not see the nest that Wat +Greenwood had found.' + +'On Tuesday she cried over her French grammar, and tore a leaf out of +the old spelling-book.' + +'That was nearly out before,' said Emily, 'Maurice and Redgie spoilt +that long ago.' + +'I do not know of anything on Wednesday, but on Thursday she threw +Ada down the steps out of the nursery.' + +'Oh! that accounts for the dreadful screaming that I heard,' said +Claude; 'I forgot to ask the meaning of it.' + +'I am sure it was Phyl that was the most dismayed, and cried the +loudest,' said Lily. + +'That she always does,' said Jane. 'On Friday we had an uproar in +the schoolroom about her hemming, and on Saturday she tumbled into a +wet ditch, and tore her bonnet in the brambles; on Sunday, she +twisted her ancles together at church.' + +'Well, there I did chance to observe her,' said Lily, 'there seemed +to be a constant struggle between her ancles and herself, they were +continually coming lovingly together, but were separated the next +moment.' + +'And to-day this sum,' said Jane; 'seven scrapes in one week! I +really am of opinion, as Rachel says when she is angry, that school +is the best place for her.' + +'I think so too,' said Claude. + +'I do not know,' said Emily, 'she is very troublesome, but--' + +'Oh, Claude!' cried Lily, 'you do not mean that you would have that +poor dear merry Master Phyl sent to school, she would pine away like +a wild bird in a cage; but papa will never think of such a thing.' + +'If I thought of her being sent to school,' said Claude, 'it would be +to shield her from--the rule of love.' + +'Oh! you think we are too indulgent,' said Emily; 'perhaps we are, +but you know we cannot torment a poor child all day long.' + +'If you call the way you treat her indulgent, I should like to know +what you call severe.' + +'What do you mean, Claude?' said Emily. + +'I call your indulgence something like the tender mercies of the +wicked,' said Claude. 'On a fine day, when every one is taking their +pleasure in the garden, to shut an unhappy child up in the +schoolroom, with a hard sum that you have not taken the trouble to +teach her how to do, and late in the day, when no one's head is clear +for difficult arithmetic--' + +'Hard sum do you call it?' said Jane. + +'Indeed I explained it to her,' said Emily. + +'And well she understood you,' said Claude. + +'She might have learnt if she had attended,' said Emily; 'Ada +understood clearly, with the same explanation.' + +'And do not you be too proud of the effect of your instructions, +Claude,' said Jane, 'for when honest Phyl came into the garden, she +did not know farthings from fractions.' + +'And pray, Mrs. Senior Wrangler,' said Claude, 'will you tell me +where is the difference between a half-penny and half a penny?' + +After a good laugh at Jane's expense, Emily went on, 'Now, Claude, I +will tell you how it happened; Phyllis is so slow, and dawdles over +her lessons so long, that it is quite a labour to hear her; Ada is +quick enough, but if you were to hear Phyllis say one column of +spelling, you would know what misery is. Then before she has half +finished, the clock strikes one, it is time to read, and the lessons +are put off till the afternoon. I certainly did not know that she +was about her sum all that time, or I would have sent her out as I +did on Saturday.' + +'And the reading at one is as fixed as fate,' said Claude. + +'Oh, no!' said Jane, 'when we were about old "Russell," we did not +begin till nearly two, but since we have been reading this book, Lily +will never let us rest till we begin; she walks up and down, and +hurries and worries and--' + +'Yes,' said Emily, in a murmuring voice, 'we should do better if Lily +would not make such a point of that one thing; but she never minds +what else is cut short, and she never thinks of helping me. It never +seems to enter her head how much I have on my hands, and no one does +anything to help me.' + +'Oh, Emily! you never asked me,' said Lily. + +'I knew you would not like it,' said Emily. 'No, it is not my way to +complain, people may see how to help me if they choose to do it.' + +'Lily, Lily, take care,' said Claude, in a low voice; 'is not the +rule you admire, the rule of love of yourself?' + +'Oh, Claude!' returned Lily, 'do not say so, you know it was Emily +that I called an example of it, not myself, and see how forbearing +she has been. Now I see that I am really wanted, I will help. It +must be love, not duty, that calls me to the schoolroom, for no one +ever said that was my province.' + +'Poor duty! you give it a very narrow boundary.' + +Lilias, who, to say the truth, had been made more careful of her own +conduct, by the wish to establish her principle, really betook +herself to the schoolroom for an hour every morning, with a desire to +be useful. She thought she did great things in undertaking those +tasks of Phyllis's which Emily most disliked. But Lilias was neither +patient nor humble enough to be a good teacher, though she could +explain difficult rules in a sensible way. She could not, or would +not, understand the difference between dulness and inattention; her +sharp hasty manner would frighten away all her pupil's powers of +comprehension; she sometimes fell into the great error of scolding, +when Phyllis was doing her best, and the poor child's tears flowed +more frequently than ever. + +Emily's gentle manner made her instructions far more agreeable, +though she was often neither clear nor correct in her explanations; +she was contented if the lessons were droned through in any manner, +so long as she could say they were done; she disliked a disturbance, +and overlooked or half corrected mistakes rather than cause a cry. +Phyllis naturally preferred being taught by her, and Lily was vexed +and unwilling to persevere. She went to the schoolroom expecting to +be annoyed, created vexation for herself, and taught in anything but +a loving spirit. Still, however, the thought of Claude, and the wish +to do more than her duty, kept her constant to her promise, and her +love of seeing things well done was useful, though sadly +counterbalanced by her deficiency in temper and patience. + + + +CHAPTER V--VILLAGE GOSSIP + + + +'The deeds we do, the words we say, + Into still air they seem to fleet; +We count them past, + But they shall last.' + +Soon after Easter, Claude went to Oxford. He was much missed by his +sisters, who wanted him to carve for them at luncheon, to escort them +when they rode or walked, to hear their music, talk over their books, +advise respecting their drawings, and criticise Lily's verses. A new +subject of interest was, however, arising for them in the neighbours +who were shortly expected to arrive at Broom Hill, a house which had +lately been built in a hamlet about a mile and a half from the New +Court. + +These new comers were the family of a barrister of the name of +Weston, who had taken the house for the sake of his wife, her health +having been much injured by her grief at the loss of two daughters in +the scarlet fever. Two still remained, a grown-up young lady, and a +girl of eleven years old, and the Miss Mohuns learnt with great +delight that they should have near neighbours of their own age. They +had never had any young companions as young ladies were scarce among +their acquaintance, and they had not seen their cousin, Lady Florence +Devereux, since they were children. + +It was with great satisfaction that Emily and Lilias set out with +their father to make the first visit, and they augured well from +their first sight of Mrs. Weston and her daughters. Mrs. Weston was +alone, her daughters being out walking, and Lily spent the greater +part of the visit in silence, though her mind was made up in the +first ten minutes, as she told Emily on leaving the house, 'that Miss +Weston's tastes were in complete accordance with her own.' + +'Rapid judgment,' said Emily. 'Love before first sight. But Mrs. +Weston is a very sweet person.' + +'And, Emily, did you see the music-book open at "Angels ever bright +and fair?" If Miss Weston sings that as I imagine it!' + +'How could you see what was in the music-book at the other end of the +room? I only saw it was a beautiful piano. And what handsome +furniture! it made me doubly ashamed of our faded carpet and chairs, +almost as old as the house itself.' + +'Emily!' said Lily, in her most earnest tones, 'I would not change +one of those dear old chairs for a king's ransom!' + +The visit was in a short time returned, and though it was but a +formal morning call, Lilias found her bright expectations realised by +the sweetness of Alethea Weston's manners, and the next time they met +it was a determined thing in her mind that, as Claude would have +said, they had sworn an eternal friendship. + +She had the pleasure of lionising the two sisters over the Old Court, +telling all she knew and all she imagined about the siege, Sir +Maurice Mohun, and his faithful servant, Walter Greenwood. 'Miss +Weston,' said she in conclusion, 'have you read Old Mortality?' + +'Yes,' said Alethea, amused at the question. + +'Because they say I am as bad as Lady Margaret about the king's +visit.' + +'I have not heard the story often enough to think so,' said Miss +Weston, 'I will warn you if I do.' + +In the meantime Phyllis and Adeline were equally charmed with +Marianne, though shocked at her ignorance of country manners, and, +indeed, Alethea was quite diverted with Lily's pity at the discovery +that she had never before been in the country in the spring. 'What,' +she cried, 'have you never seen the tufts of red on the hazel, nor +the fragrant golden palms, and never heard the blackbird rush +twittering out of the hedge, nor the first nightingale's note, nor +the nightjar's low chirr, nor the chattering of the rooks? O what a +store of sweet memories you have lost! Why, how can you understand +the beginning of the Allegro?' + +Both the Miss Westons had so much pleasure in making acquaintance +with 'these delights,' as quite to compensate for their former +ignorance, and soon the New Court rang with their praises. Mr. Mohun +thought very highly of the whole family, and rejoiced in such society +for his daughters, and they speedily became so well acquainted, that +it was the ordinary custom of the Westons to take luncheon at the New +Court on Sunday. On her side, however, Alethea Weston felt some +reluctance to become intimate with the young ladies of the New Court. +She was pleased with Emily's manners, interested by Lily's +earnestness and simplicity, and thought Jane a clever and amusing +little creature, but even their engaging qualities gave her pain, by +reminding her of the sisters she had lost, or by making her think how +they would have liked them. A country house and neighbours like +these had been the objects of many visions of their childhood, and +now all the sweet sights and sounds around her only made her think +how she should have enjoyed them a year ago. She felt almost jealous +of Marianne's liking for her new friends, lest they should steal her +heart from Emma and Lucy; but knowing that these were morbid and +unthankful feelings, she struggled against them, and though she +missed her sisters even more than when her mother and Marianne were +in greater need of her attention, she let no sign of her sorrowful +feeling appear, and seeing that Marianne was benefited in health and +spirits, by intercourse with young companions, she gave no hint of +her disinclination to join in the walks and other amusements of the +Miss Mohuns. + +She also began to take interest in the poor people. By Mrs. Weston's +request, Mr. Devereux had pointed out the families which were most in +need of assistance, and Alethea made it her business to find out the +best way of helping them. She visited the village school with +Lilias, and when requested by her and by the Rector to give her aid +in teaching, she did not like to refuse what might be a duty, though +she felt very diffident of her powers of instruction. Marianne, like +Phyllis and Adeline, became a Sunday scholar, and was catechised with +the others in church. Both Mr. Mohun and his nephew thought very +highly of the family, and the latter was particularly glad that Lily +should have some older person to assist her in those parish matters +which he left partly in her charge. + +Mr. Devereux had been Rector of Beechcroft about a year and a half, +and had hitherto been much liked. His parishioners had known him +from a boy, and were interested about him, and though very young, +there was something about him that gained their respect. Almost all +his plans were going on well, and things were, on the whole, in a +satisfactory state, though no one but Lilias expected even Cousin +Robert to make a Dreamland of Beechcroft, and there were days when he +looked worn and anxious, and the girls suspected that some one was +behaving ill. + +'Have you a headache, Robert?' asked Emily, a few evenings before +Whit-Sunday, 'you have not spoken three words this evening.' + +'Not at all, thank you,' said Mr. Devereux, smiling, 'you need not +think to make me your victim, now you have no Claude to nurse.' + +'Then if it is not bodily, it is mental,' said Lily. + +'I am in a difficulty about the christening of Mrs. Naylor's child.' + +'Naylor the blacksmith?' said Jane. 'I thought it was high time for +it to be christened. It must be six weeks old.' + +'Is it not to be on Whit-Sunday?' said Lily, disconsolately. + +'Oh no! Mrs. Naylor will not hear of bringing the child on a Sunday, +and I could hardly make her think it possible to bring it on Whit- +Tuesday.' + +'Why did you not insist?' said Lily. + +'Perhaps I might, if there was no other holy day at hand, or if there +was not another difficulty, a point on which I cannot give way.' + +'Oh! the godfathers and godmothers,' said Lily, 'does she want that +charming brother of hers, Edward Gage?' + +'Yes, and what is worse, Edward Gage's dissenting wife, and Dick +Rodd, who shows less sense of religion than any one in the parish, +and has never been confirmed.' + +'Could you make them hear reason?' + +'They were inclined to be rather impertinent,' said Mr. Devereux. +'Old Mrs. Gage--' + +'Oh!' interrupted Jane, 'there is no hope for you if the sour Gage is +in the pie.' + +'The sour Gage told me people were not so particular in her younger +days, and perhaps they should not have the child christened at all, +since I was such a CONTRARY gentleman. Tom Naylor was not at home, I +am to see him to-morrow.' + +'Well, I do not think Tom Naylor is as bad as the rest,' said Lily; +'he would have been tolerable, if he had married any one but Martha +Gage.' + +'Yes, he is an open good-natured fellow, and I have hopes of making +an impression on him.' + +'If not,' said Lily, 'I hope papa will take away his custom.' + +'What?' said Mr. Mohun, who always heard any mention of himself. Mr. +Devereux repeated his history, and discussed the matter with his +uncle, only once interrupted by an inquiry from Jane about the +child's name, a point on which she could gain no intelligence. His +report the next day was not decidedly unfavourable, though he +scarcely hoped the christening would be so soon as Tuesday. He had +not seen the father, and suspected he had purposely kept out of the +way. + +Jane, disappointed that the baby's name remained a mystery, resolved +to set out on a voyage of discovery. Accordingly, as soon as her +cousin was gone, she asked Emily if she had not been saying that Ada +wanted some more cotton for her sampler. + +'Yes,' said Emily, 'but I am not going to walk all the way to Mrs. +Appleton's this afternoon.' + +'Shall I go?' said Jane. 'Ada, run and fetch your pattern.' Emily +and Ada were much obliged by Jane's disinterested offer, and in a +quarter of an hour Ada's thoughts and hands were busy in Mrs. +Appleton's drawer of many-coloured cotton. + +'What a pity this is about Mrs. Naylor's baby,' began Jane. + +'It is a sad story indeed, Miss Jane, I am sure it must be grievous +to Mr. Devereux,' said Mrs. Appleton. 'Betsy Wall said he had been +there three times about it.' + +'Ah! we all know that Walls have ears,' said Jane; 'how that Betsy +does run about gossiping!' + +'Yes, Miss Jane, there she bides all day long at the stile gaping; +not a stitch does she do for her mother; I cannot tell what is to be +the end of it.' + +'And do you know what the child's name is to be, Mrs. Appleton?' + +'No, Miss Jane,' answered Mrs. Appleton. 'Betsy did say they talked +of naming him after his uncle, Edward Gage, only Mr. Devereux would +not let him stand.' + +'No,' said Jane. 'Since he married that dissenting wife he never +comes near the church; he is too much like the sour Gage, as we call +his mother, to be good for much. But, after all, he is not so bad as +Dick Rodd, who has never been confirmed, and has never shown any +sense of religion in his life.' + +'Yes, Miss, Dick Rodd is a sad fellow: did you hear what a row there +was at the Mohun Arms last week, Miss Jane?' + +'Aye,' said Jane, 'and papa says he shall certainly turn Dick Rodd +out of the house as soon as the lease is out, and it is only till +next Michaelmas twelve-months.' + +'Yes, Miss, as I said to Betsy Wall, it would be more for their +interest to behave well.' + +'Indeed it would,' said Jane. 'Robert and papa were talking of +having their horses shod at Stoney Bridge, if Tom Naylor will be so +obstinate, only papa does not like to give Tom up if he can help it, +because his father was so good, and Tom would not be half so bad if +he had not married one of the Gages.' + +'Here is Cousin Robert coming down the lane,' said Ada, who had +chosen her cotton, and was gazing from the door. Jane gave a violent +start, took a hurried leave of Mrs. Appleton, and set out towards +home; she could not avoid meeting her cousin. + +'Oh, Jenny! have you been enjoying a gossip with your great ally?' +said he. + +'We have only been buying pink cotton,' said Ada, whose conscience +was clear. + +'Ah!' said Mr. Devereux, 'Beechcroft affairs would soon stand still, +without those useful people, Mrs. Appleton, Miss Wall, and Miss Jane +Mohun,' and he passed on. Jane felt her face colouring, his freedom +from suspicion made her feel very guilty, but the matter soon passed +out of her mind. + +Blithe Whit-Sunday came, the five Miss Mohuns appeared in white +frocks, new bonnets were plenty, the white tippets of the children, +and the bright shawls of the mothers, made the village look gay; Wat +Greenwood stuck a pink between his lips, and the green boughs of +hazel and birch decked the dark oak carvings in the church. + +And Whit-Monday came. At half-past ten the rude music of the band of +the Friendly Society came pealing from the top of the hill, then +appeared two tall flags, crowned with guelder roses and peonies, then +the great blue drum, the clarionet blown by red-waist-coated and red- +faced Mr. Appleton, the three flutes and the triangle, all at their +loudest, causing some of the spectators to start, and others to +dance. Then behold the whole procession of labourers, in white round +frocks, blue ribbons in their hats, and tall blue staves in their +hands. In the rear, the confused mob, women and children, cheerful +faces and mirthful sounds everywhere. These were hushed as the flags +were lowered to pass under the low-roofed gateway of the churchyard, +and all was still, except the trampling of feet on the stone floor. +Then the service began, the responses were made in full and hearty +tones, almost running into a chant, the old 133rd Psalm was sung as +loudly and as badly as usual, a very short but very earnest sermon +was preached, and forth came the troop again. + +Mr. Devereux always dined with the club in a tent, at the top of the +hill, but his uncle made him promise to come to a second dinner at +the New Court in the evening. + +'Robert looks anxious,' said Lily, as she parted with him after the +evening service; 'I am afraid something is going wrong.' + +'Trust me for finding out what it is,' said Jane. + +'No, no, Jenny, do not ask him,' said Lily; 'if he tells us to +relieve his mind, I am very glad he should make friends of us, but do +not ask. Let us talk of other things to put it out of his head, +whatever it may be.' + +Jane soon heard more of the cause of the depression of her cousin's +spirits than even she had any desire to do. After dinner, the girls +were walking in the garden, enjoying the warmth of the evening, when +Mr. Devereux came up to her and drew her aside from the rest, telling +her that he wished to speak to her. + +'Oh!' said Jane, 'when am I to meet you at school again? You never +told me which chapter I was to prepare; I cannot think what would +become of your examinations if it was not for me, you could not get +an answer to one question in three.' + +'That was not what I wished to speak to you about,' said Mr. +Devereux. 'What had you been saying to Mrs. Appleton when I met you +at her door on Saturday?' + +The colour rushed into Jane's cheeks, but she replied without +hesitation, 'Oh! different things, La pluie et le beau temps, just as +usual.' + +'Cannot you remember anything more distinctly?' + +'I always make a point of forgetting what I talk about,' said Jane, +trying to laugh. + +'Now, Jane, let me tell you what has happened in the village--as I +came down the hill from the club-dinner--' + +'Oh,' said Jane, hoping to make a diversion, 'Wat Greenwood came back +about a quarter of an hour ago, and he--' + +Mr. Devereux proceeded without attending to her, 'As I came down the +hill from the club-dinner, old Mrs. Gage came out of Naylor's house, +and her daughter with her, in great anger, calling me to account for +having spoken of her in a most unbecoming way, calling her the sour +Gage, and trying to set the Squire against them.' + +'Oh, that abominable chattering woman!' Jane exclaimed; 'and Betsy +Wall too, I saw her all alive about something. What a nuisance such +people are!' + +'In short,' said Mr. Devereux, 'I heard an exaggerated account of all +that passed here on the subject the other day. Now, Jane, am I doing +you any injustice in thinking that it must have been through you that +this history went abroad into the village?' + +'Well,' said Jane, 'I am sure you never told us that it was any +secret. When a story is openly told to half a dozen people they +cannot be expected to keep it to themselves.' + +'I spoke uncharitably and incautiously,' said he, 'I am willing to +confess, but it is nevertheless my duty to set before you the great +matter that this little fire has kindled.' + +'Why, it cannot have done any great harm, can it?' asked Jane, the +agitation of her voice and laugh betraying that she was not quite so +careless as she wished to appear. 'Only the sour Gage will ferment a +little.' + +'Oh, Jane! I did not expect that you would treat this matter so +lightly.' + +'But tell me, what harm has it done?' asked she. + +'Do you consider it nothing that the poor child should remain +unbaptized, that discord should be brought into the parish, that +anger should be on the conscience of your neighbour, that he should +be driven from the church?' + +'Is it as bad as that?' said Jane. + +'We do not yet see the full extent of the mischief our idle words may +have done,' said Mr. Devereux. + +'But it is their own fault, if they will do wrong,' said Jane; 'they +ought not to be in a rage, we said nothing but the truth.' + +'I wish I was clear of the sin,' said her cousin. + +'And after all,' said Jane, 'I cannot see that I was much to blame; I +only talked to Mrs. Appleton, as I have done scores of times, and no +one minded it. You only laughed at me on Saturday, and papa and +Eleanor never scolded me.' + +'You cannot say that no one has ever tried to check you,' said the +Rector. + +'And how was I to know that that mischief-maker would repeat it?' +said Jane. + +'I do not mean to say,' said Mr. Devereux, 'that you actually +committed a greater sin than you may often have done, by talking in a +way which you knew would displease your father. I know we are too +apt to treat lightly the beginnings of evil, until some sudden sting +makes us feel what a serpent we have been fostering. Think this a +warning, pray that the evil we dread may be averted; but should it +ensue, consider it as a punishment sent in mercy. It will be better +for you not to come to school to-morrow; instead of the references +you were to have looked out, I had rather you read over in a humble +spirit the Epistle of St. James.' + +Jane's tears by this time were flowing fast, and finding that she no +longer attempted to defend herself, her cousin said no more. He +joined the others, and Jane, escaping to her own room, gave way to a +passionate fit of crying. Whether her tears were of true sorrow or +of anger she could not have told herself; she was still sobbing on +her bed when the darkness came on, and her two little sisters came in +on their way to bed to wish her good-night. + +'Oh, Jane, Jane! what is the matter? have you been naughty?' asked +the little girls in great amazement. + +'Never mind,' said Jane, shortly; 'good-night,' and she sat up and +wiped away her tears. The children still lingered. 'Go away, do,' +said she. 'Is Robert gone?' + +'No,' said Phyllis, 'he is reading the newspaper.' + +Phyllis and Adeline left the room, and Jane walked up and down, +considering whether she should venture to go down to tea; perhaps her +cousin had waited till the little girls had gone before he spoke to +Mr. Mohun, or perhaps her red eyes might cause questions on her +troubles; she was still in doubt when Lily opened the door, a lamp in +her hand. + +'My dear Jenny, are you here? Ada told me you were crying, what is +the matter?' + +'Then you have not heard?' said Jane. + +'Only Robert began just now, "Poor Jenny, she has been the cause of +getting us into a very awkward scrape," but then Ada came to tell me +about you, and I came away.' + +'Yes,' said Jane, angrily, 'he will throw all the blame upon me, when +I am sure it was quite as much the fault of that horrible Mrs. +Appleton, and papa will be as angry as possible.' + +'But what has happened?' asked Lily. + +'Oh! that chatterer, that worst of gossipers, has gone and told the +Naylors and Mrs. Gage all we said about them the other day.' + +'So you told Mrs. Appleton?' said Lily; 'so that was the reason you +were so obliging about the marking thread. Oh, Jane, you had better +say no more about Mrs. Appleton! And has it done much mischief?' + +'Oh! Mrs. Gage "pitched" into Robert, as Wat Greenwood would say, +and the christening is off again.' + +'Jane, this is frightful,' said Lily; 'I do not wonder that you are +unhappy.' + +'Well, I daresay it will all come right again,' said Jane; 'there +will only be a little delay, papa and Robert will bring them to their +senses in time.' + +'Suppose the baby was to die,' said Lily. + +'Oh, it will not die,' said Jane, 'a great fat healthy thing like +that likely to die indeed!' + +'I cannot make you out, Jane,' said Lily. 'If I had done such a +thing, I do not think I could have a happy minute till it was set +right.' + +'Well, I told you I was very sorry,' said Jane, 'only I wish they +would not all be so hard upon me. Robert owns that he should not +have said such things if he did not wish them to be repeated.' + +'Does he?' cried Lily. 'How exactly like Robert that is, to own +himself in fault when he is obliged to blame others. Jane, how could +you hear him say such things and not be overcome with shame? And +then to turn it against him! Oh, Jane, I do not think I can talk to +you any more.' + +'I do not mean to say it was not very good of him,' said Jane. + +'Good of him--what a word!' cried Lily. 'Well, good-night, I cannot +bear to talk to you now. Shall I say anything for you downstairs?' + +'Oh, tell papa and Robert I am very sorry,' said Jane. 'I shall not +come down again, you may leave the lamp.' + +On her way downstairs in the dark Lilias was led, by the example of +her cousin, to reflect that she was not without some share in the +mischief that had been done; the words which report imputed to Mr. +Devereux were mostly her own or Jane's. There was no want of candour +in Lily, and as soon as she entered the drawing-room she went +straight up to her father and cousin, and began, 'Poor Jenny is very +unhappy; she desired me to tell you how sorry she is. But I really +believe that I did the mischief, Robert. It was I who said those +foolish things that were repeated as if you had said them. It is a +grievous affair, but who could have thought that we were doing so +much harm?' + +'Perhaps it may not do any,' said Emily. 'The Naylors have a great +deal of good about them.' + +'They must have more than I suppose, if they can endure what Robert +is reported to have said of them,' said Mr. Mohun. + +'What did you say, Robert,' said Lily, 'did you not tell them all was +said by your foolish young cousins?' + +'I agreed with you too much to venture on contradicting the report; +you know I could not even deny having called Mrs. Gage by that name.' + +'Oh, if I could do anything to mend it!' cried Lily. + +But wishes had no effect. Lilias and Jane had to mourn over the full +extent of harm done by hasty words. After the more respectable men +had left the Mohun Arms on the evening of Whit-Monday, the rest gave +way to unrestrained drunkenness, not so much out of reckless self- +indulgence, as to defy the clergyman and the squire. They came to +the front of the parsonage, yelled and groaned for some time, and +ended by breaking down the gate. + +This conduct was repeated on Tuesday, and on many Saturdays +following; some young trees in the churchyard were cut, and abuse of +the parson written on the walls the idle young men taking this +opportunity to revenge their own quarrels, caused by Mr. Devereux's +former efforts for their reformation. + +On Sunday several children were absent from school; all those +belonging to Farmer Gage's labourers were taken away, and one man was +turned off by the farmers for refusing to remove his child. + +Now that the war was carried on so openly, Mr. Mohun considered it +his duty to withdraw his custom from one who chose to set his pastor +at defiance. He went to the forge, and had a long conversation with +the blacksmith, but though he was listened to with respect, it was +not easy to make much impression on an ignorant, hot-tempered man, +who had been greatly offended, and prided himself on showing that he +would support the quarrel of his wife and her relations against both +squire and parson; and though Mr. Mohun did persuade him to own that +it was wrong to be at war with the clergyman, the effect of his +arguments was soon done away with by the Gages, and no ground was +gained. + +Mr. Gage's farm was unhappily at no great distance from a dissenting +chapel and school, in the adjoining parish of Stoney Bridge, and +thither the farmer and blacksmith betook themselves, with many of the +cottagers of Broom Hill. + +One alone of the family of Tom Naylor refused to join him in his +dissent, and that was his sister, Mrs. Eden, a widow, with one little +girl about seven years old, who, though in great measure dependent +upon him for subsistence, knew her duty too well to desert the +church, or to take her child from school, and continued her even +course, toiling hard for bread, and uncomplaining, though often munch +distressed. All the rest of the parish who were not immediately +under Mr. Mohun's influence were in a sad state of confusion. + +Jane was grieved at heart, but would not confess it, and Lilias was +so restless and unhappy, that Emily was quite weary of her +lamentations. Her best comforter was Miss Weston, who patiently +listened to her, sighed with her over the evident sorrow of the +Rector, and the mischief in the parish, and proved herself a true +friend, by never attempting to extenuate her fault. + + + +CHAPTER VI--THE NEW FRIEND + + + +'Maidens should be mild and meek, +Swift to hear, and slow to speak.' + +Miss Weston had been much interested by what she heard respecting +Mrs. Eden, and gladly discovered that she was just the person who +could assist in some needlework which was required at Broom Hill. +She asked Lilias to tell her where to find her cottage, and Lily +replied by an offer to show her the way; Miss Weston hesitated, +thinking that perhaps in the present state of things Lily had rather +not see her; but her doubts were quickly removed by this speech, 'I +want to see her particularly. I have been there three times without +finding her. I think I can set this terrible matter right by +speaking to her.' + +Accordingly, Lilias and Phyllis set out with Alethea and Marianne one +afternoon to Mrs. Eden's cottage, which stood at the edge of a long +field at the top of the hill. Very fast did Lily talk all the way, +but she grew more silent as she came to the cottage, and knocked at +the door; it was opened by Mrs. Eden herself, a pale, but rather +pretty young woman, with a remarkable gentle and pleasing face, and a +manner which was almost ladylike, although her hands were freshly +taken out of the wash-tub. She curtsied low, and coloured at the +sight of Lilias, set chairs for the visitors, and then returned to +her work. + +'Oh! Mrs. Eden,' Lily began, intending to make her explanation, but +feeling confused, thought it better to wait till her friend's +business was settled, and altered her speech into 'Miss Weston is +come to speak to you about some work.' + +Mrs. Eden looked quite relieved, and Alethea proceeded to appoint the +day for her coming to Broom Hill, and arrange some small matters, +during which Lily not only settled what to say, but worked herself +into a fit of impatience at the length of Alethea's instructions. +When they were concluded, however, and there was a pause, her words +failed her, and she wished that she was miles from the cottage, or +that she had never mentioned her intentions. At last she stammered +out, 'Oh! Mrs. Eden--I wanted to speak to you about--about Mr. +Devereux and your brother.' + +Mrs. Eden bent over her wash-tub, Miss Weston examined the shells on +the chimney-piece, Marianne and Phyllis listened with all their ears, +and poor Lily was exceedingly uncomfortable. + +'I wished to tell you--I do not think--I do not mean--It was not his +saying. Indeed, he did not say those things about the Gages.' + +'I told my brother I did not think Mr. Devereux would go for to say +such a thing,' said Mrs. Eden, as much confused as Lily. + +'Oh! that was right, Mrs. Eden. The mischief was all my making and +Jane's. We said those foolish things, and they were repeated as if +it was he. Oh! do tell your brother so, Mrs. Eden. It was very good +of you to think it was not Cousin Robert. Pray tell Tom Naylor. I +cannot bear that things should go on in this dreadful way.' + +'Indeed, Miss, I am very sorry,' said Mrs. Eden. + +'But, Mrs Eden, I am sure that would set it right again,' said Lily, +'are not you? I would do anything to have that poor baby +christened.' + +Lily's confidence melted away as she saw that Mrs. Eden's tears were +falling fast, and she ended with, 'Only tell them, and we shall see +what will happen.' + +'Very well, Miss Lilias,' said Mrs. Eden. 'I am very sorry.' + +'Let us hope that time and patience will set things right,' said Miss +Weston, to relieve the embarrassment of both parties. 'Your brother +must soon see that Mr. Devereux only wishes to do his duty.' + +Alethea skilfully covered Lily's retreat, and the party took leave of +Mrs. Eden, and turned into their homeward path. + +Lily at first seemed disposed to be silent, and Miss Weston therefore +amused herself with listening to the chatter of the little girls as +they walked on before them. + +'There are only thirty-six days to the holidays,' said Phyllis; 'Ada +and I keep a paper in the nursery with the account of the number of +days. We shall be so glad when Claude, and Maurice, and Redgie come +home.' + +'Are they not very boisterous?' said Marianne. + +'Not Maurice,' said Phyllis. + +'No, indeed,' said Lily, 'Maurice is like nobody else. He takes up +some scientific pursuit each time he comes home, and cares for +nothing else for some time, and then quite forgets it. He is an odd- +looking boy too, thick and sturdy, with light flaxen hair, and dark, +overhanging eyebrows, and he makes the most extraordinary grimaces.' + +'And Reginald?' said Alethea. + +'Oh! Redgie is a noble-looking fellow. But just eleven, and taller +than Jane. His complexion so fair, yet fresh and boyish, and his +eyes that beautiful blue that Ada's are--real blue. Then his hair, +in dark brown waves, with a rich auburn shine. The old knights must +have been just like Redgie. And Claude--Oh! Miss Weston, have you +ever seen Claude?' + +'No, but I have seen your eldest brother.' + +'William? Why, he has been in Canada these three years. Where could +you have seen him?' + +'At Brighton, about four years ago.' + +'Ah! the year before he went. I remember that his regiment was +there. Well, it is curious that you should know him; and did you +ever hear of Harry, the brother that we lost?' + +'I remember Captain Mohun's being called away to Oxford by his +illness,' said Alethea. + +'Ah, yes! William was the only one of us who was with him, even papa +was not there. His illness was so short.' + +'Yes,' said Alethea, 'I think it was on a Tuesday that Captain Mohun +left Brighton, and we saw his death in the paper on Saturday.' + +'William only arrived the evening that he died. Papa was gone to +Ireland to see about Cousin Rotherwood's property. Robert, not +knowing that, wrote to him at Beechcroft; Eleanor forwarded the +letter without opening it, and so we knew nothing till Robert came to +tell us that all was over.' + +'Without any preparation?' + +'With none. Harry had left home about ten days before, quite well, +and looking so handsome. You know what a fine-looking person William +is. Well, Harry was very like him, only not so tall and strong, with +the same clear hazel eyes, and more pink in his cheeks--fairer +altogether. Then Harry wrote, saying that he had caught one of his +bad colds. We did not think much of it, for he was always having +coughs. We heard no more for a week, and then one morning Eleanor +was sent for out of the schoolroom, and there was Robert come to tell +us. Oh! it was such a thunderbolt. This was what did the mischief. +You know papa and mamma being from home so long, the elder boys had +no settled place for the holidays; sometimes they stayed with one +friend, sometimes with another, and so no one saw enough of them to +find out how delicate poor Harry really was. I think papa had been +anxious the only winter they were at home together, and Harry had +been talked to and advised to take care; but in the summer and autumn +he was well, and did not think about it. He went to Oxford by the +coach--it was a bitterly cold frosty day--there was a poor woman +outside, shivering and looking very ill, and Harry changed places +with her. He was horribly chilled, but thinking he had only a common +cold, he took no care. Robert, coming to Oxford about a week after, +found him very ill, and wrote to papa and William, but William +scarcely came in time. Harry just knew him, and that was all. He +could not speak, and died that night. Then William stayed at Oxford +to receive papa, and Robert came to tell us.' + +'It must have been a terrible shock.' + +'Such a loss--he was so very good and clever. Every one looked up to +him--William almost as much as the younger ones. He never was in any +scrape, had all sorts of prizes at Eton, besides getting his +scholarship before he was seventeen.' + +Whenever Lily could get Miss Weston alone, it was her way to talk in +this manner. She loved the sound of her own voice so well, that she +was never better satisfied than when engrossing the whole +conversation. Having nothing to talk of but her books, her poor +people, and her family, she gave her friend the full benefit of all +she could say on each subject, while Alethea had kindness enough to +listen with real interest to her long rambling discourses, well +pleased to see her happy. + +The next time they met, Lilias told her all she knew or imagined +respecting Eleanor, and of her own debate with Claude, and ended, +'Now, Miss Weston, tell me your opinion, which would you choose for a +sister, Eleanor or Emily?' + +'I have some experience of Miss Mohun's delightful manners, and none +of Mrs. Hawkesworth's, so I am no fair judge,' said Alethea. + +'I really have done justice to Eleanor's sterling goodness,' said +Lily. 'Now what should you think?' + +'I can hardly imagine greater proofs of affection than Mrs. +Hawkesworth has given you,' said Miss Weston, smiling. + +'It was because it was her duty,' said Lilias. 'You have only heard +the facts, but you cannot judge of her ways and looks. Now only +think, when Frank came home, after seven years of perils by field and +flood--there she rose up to receive him as if he had been Mr. Nobody +making a morning call. And all the time before they were married, I +do believe she thought more of showing Emily how much tea we were to +use in a week than anything else.' + +'Perhaps some people might have admired her self-command,' said +Alethea. + +'Self-command, the refuge of the insensible? And now, I told you +about dear Harry the other day. He was Eleanor's especial brother, +yet his death never seemed to make any difference to her. She +scarcely cried: she heard our lessons as usual, talked in her quiet +voice--showed no tokens of feeling.' + +'Was her health as good as before?' asked Miss Weston. + +'She was not ill,' said Lily; 'if she had, I should have been +satisfied. She certainly could not take long walks that winter, but +she never likes walking. People said she looked ill, but I do not +know.' + +'Shall I tell you what I gather from your history?' + +'Pray do.' + +'Then do not think me very perverse, if I say that perhaps the grief +she then repressed may have weighed down her spirits ever since, so +that you can hardly remember any alteration.' + +'That I cannot,' said Lily. 'She is always the same, but then she +ought to have been more cheerful before his death.' + +'Did not you lose him soon after your mother?' said Alethea. + +'Two whole years,' said Lily. 'Oh! and aunt, Robert too, and Frank +went to India the beginning of that year; yes, there was enough to +depress her, but I never thought of grief going on in that quiet dull +way for so many years.' + +'You would prefer one violent burst, and then forgetfulness?' + +'Not exactly,' said Lily; 'but I should like a little evidence of it. +If it is really strong, it cannot be hid.' + +Little did Lily think of the grief that sat heavy upon the spirit of +Alethea, who answered--'Some people can do anything that they +consider their duty.' + +'Duty: what, are you a duty lover?' exclaimed Lilias. 'I never +suspected it, because you are not disagreeable.' + +'Thank you,' said Alethea, laughing, 'your compliment rather +surprises me, for I thought you told me that your brother Claude was +on the duty side of the question.' + +'He thinks he is,' said Lily, 'but love is his real motive of action, +as I can prove to you. Poor Claude had a very bad illness when he +was about three years old; and ever since he has been liable to +terrible headaches, and he is not at all strong. Of course he cannot +always study hard, and when first he went to school, every one +scolded him for being idle. I really believe he might have done +more, but then he was so clever that he could keep up without any +trouble, and, as Robert says, that was a great temptation; but still +papa was not satisfied, because he said Claude could do better. So +said Harry. Oh! you cannot think what a person Harry was, as high- +spirited as William, and as gentle as Claude; and in his kind way he +used to try hard to make Claude exert himself, but it never would do- +-he was never in mischief, but he never took pains. Then Harry died, +and when Claude came home, and saw how changed things were, how gray +papa's hair had turned, and how silent and melancholy William had +grown, he set himself with all his might to make up to papa as far as +he could. He thought only of doing what Harry would have wished, and +papa himself says that he has done wonders. I cannot see that Henry +himself could have been more than Claude is now; he has not spared +himself in the least, his tutor says, and he would have had the +Newcastle Scholarship last year, if he had not worked so hard that he +brought on one of his bad illnesses, and was obliged to come home. +Now I am sure that he has acted from love, for it was as much his +duty to take pains while Harry was alive as afterwards.' + +'Certainly,' said Miss Weston, 'but what does he say himself?' + +'Oh! he never will talk of himself,' said Lily. + +'Have you not overlooked one thing which may be the truth,' said +Alethea, as if she was asking for information, 'that duty and love +may be identical? Is not St. Paul's description of charity very like +the duty to our neighbour?' + +'The practice is the same, but not the theory,' said Lily. + +'Now, what is called duty, seems to me to be love doing unpleasant +work,' said Miss Weston; 'love disguised under another name, when +obliged to act in a way which seems, only seems, out of accordance +with its real title.' + +'That is all very well for those who have love,' said Lily. 'Some +have not who do their duty conscientiously--another word which I +hate, by the bye.' + +'They have love in a rough coat, perhaps,' said Alethea, 'and I +should expect it soon to put on a smoother one.' + + + +CHAPTER VII--SIR MAURICE + + + +'Shall thought was his, in after time, +Thus to be hitched into a rhyme; +The simple sire could only boast +That he was loyal to his cost, +The banished race of kings revered, +And lost his land.' + +The holidays arrived, and with them the three brothers, for during +the first few weeks of the Oxford vacation Claude accompanied Lord +Rotherwood on visits to some college friends, and only came home the +same day as the younger ones. + +Maurice did not long leave his sisters in doubt as to what was to be +his reigning taste, for as soon as dinner was over, he made Jane find +the volume of the Encyclopaedia containing Entomology, and with his +elbows on the table, proceeded to study it so intently, that the +young ladies gave up all hopes of rousing him from it. Claude threw +himself down on the sofa to enjoy the luxury of a desultory talk with +his sisters; and Reginald, his head on the floor, and his heels on a +chair, talked loud and fast enough for all three, with very little +regard to what the damsels might be saying. + +'Oh! Claude,' said Lily, 'you cannot think how much we like Miss +Weston, she lets us call her Alethea, and--' + +Here came an interruption from Mr. Mohun, who perceiving the position +of Reginald's dusty shoes, gave a loud 'Ah--h!' as if he was scolding +a dog, and ordered him to change them directly. + +'Here, Phyl!' said Reginald, kicking off his shoes, 'just step up and +bring my shippers, Rachel will give them to you.' + +Away went Phyllis, well pleased to be her brother's fag. + +'Ah! Redgie does not know the misfortune that hangs over him,' said +Emily. + +'What?' said Reginald, 'will not the Baron let Viper come to the +house?' + +'Worse,' said Emily, 'Rachel is going away.' + +'Rachel?' cried Claude, starting up from the sofa. + +'Rachel?' said Maurice, without raising his eyes. + +'Rachel! Rachel! botheration!' roared Reginald, with a wondrous +caper. + +'Yes, Rachel,' said Emily; 'Rachel, who makes so much of you, for no +reason that I could ever discover, but because you are the most +troublesome.' + +'You will never find any one to mend your jackets, and dress your +wounds like Rachel,' said Lily, 'and make a baby of you instead of a +great schoolboy. What will become of you, Redgie?' + +'What will become of any of us?' said Claude; 'I thought Rachel was +the mainspring of the house.' + +'Have you quarrelled with her, Emily?' said Reginald. + +'Nonsense,' said Emily, 'it is only that her brother has lost his +wife, and wants her to take care of his children.' + +'Well,' said Reginald, 'her master has lost his wife, and wants her +to take care of his children.' + +'I cannot think what I shall do,' said Ada; 'I cry about it every +night when I go to bed. What is to be done?' + +'Send her brother a new wife,' said Maurice. + +'Send him Emily,' said Reginald; 'we could spare her much better.' + +'Only I don't wish him joy,' said Maurice. + +'Well, I hope you wish me joy of my substitute,' said Emily; 'I do +not think you would ever guess, but Lily, after being in what Rachel +calls quite a way, has persuaded every one to let us have Esther +Bateman.' + +'What, the Baron?' said Claude, in surprise. + +'Yes,' said Lily, 'is it not delightful? He said at first, Emily was +too inexperienced to teach a young servant; but then we settled that +Hannah should be upper servant, and Esther will only have to wait +upon Phyl and Ada. Then he said Faith Longley was of a better set of +people, but I am sure it would give one the nightmare to see her +lumbering about the house, and then he talked it over with Robert and +with Rachel.' + +'And was not Rachel against it, or was she too kind to her young +ladies?' + +'Oh! she was cross when she talked it over with us,' said Lily; 'but +we coaxed her over, and she told the Baron it would do very well.' + +'And Robert?' + +'He was quite with us, for he likes Esther as much as I do,' said +lily. + +'Now, Lily,' said Jane, 'how can you say he was quite with you, when +he said he thought it would be better if she was farther from home, +and under some older person?' + +'Yes, but he allowed that she would be much safer here than at home,' +said Lily. + +'But I thought she used to be the head of all the ill behaviour in +school,' said Claude. + +'Oh! that was in Eleanor's time,' said Lily; 'there was nothing to +draw her out, she never was encouraged; but since she has been in my +class, and has found that her wishes to do right are appreciated and +met by affection, she has been quite a new creature.' + +'Since she has been in MY class,' Claude repeated. + +'Well,' said Lily, with a slight blush, 'it is just what Robert says. +He told her, when he gave her her prize Bible on Palm Sunday, that +she had been going on very well, but she must take great care when +removed from those whose influence now guided her, and who could he +have meant but me? And now she is to go on with me always. She will +be quite one of the old sort of faithful servants, who feel that they +owe everything to their masters, and will it not be pleasant to have +so sweet and expressive a face about the house?' + +'Do I know her face?' said Claude. 'Oh yes! I do. She has black +eyes, I think, and would be pretty if she did not look pert.' + +'You provoking Claude!' cried Lily, 'you are as bad as Alethea, who +never will say that Esther is the best person for us.' + +'I was going to inquire for the all-for-love principle,' said Claude, +'but I see it is in full force. And how are the verses, Lily? Have +you made a poem upon Michael Moone, or Mohun, the actor, our uncle, +whom I discovered for you in Pepys's Memoirs?' + +'Nonsense,' said Lily; 'but I have been writing something about Sir +Maurice, which you shall hear whenever you are not in this horrid +temper.' + +The next afternoon, as soon as luncheon was over, Lily drew Claude +out to his favourite place under the plane-tree, where she proceeded +to inflict her poem upon his patient ears, while he lay flat upon the +grass looking up to the sky; Emily and Jane had promised to join them +there in process of time, and the four younger ones were, as usual, +diverting themselves among the farm buildings at the Old Court. + +Lily began: 'I meant to have two parts about Sir Maurice going out +to fight when he was very young, and then about his brothers being +killed, and King Charles knighting him, and his betrothed, Phyllis +Crossthwayte, embroidering his black engrailed cross on his banner, +and then the taking the castle, and his being wounded, and escaping, +and Phyllis not thinking it right to leave her father; but I have not +finished that, so now you must hear about his return home.' + + +'A romaunt in six cantos, entitled Woe woe, +By Miss Fanny F. known more commonly so,' + + +muttered Claude to himself; but as Lily did not understand or know +whence his quotation came, it did not hurt her feelings, and she went +merrily on:- + + +''Tis the twenty-ninth of merry May; +Full cheerily shine the sunbeams to-day, + Their joyous light revealing +Full many a troop in garments gay, +With cheerful steps who take their way + By the green hill and shady lane, +While merry bells are pealing; +And soon in Beechcroft's holy fane +The villagers are kneeling. +Dreary and mournful seems the shrine +Where sound their prayers and hymns divine; + For every mystic ornament + By the rude spoiler's hand is rent; + Scarce is its ancient beauty traced + In wood-work broken and defaced, + Reft of each quaint device and rare, + Of foliage rich and mouldings fair; + Yet happy is each spirit there; + The simple peasantry rejoice + To see the altar decked with care, + To hear their ancient Pastor's voice + Reciting o'er each well-known prayer, + To view again his robe of white, + And hear the services aright; + Once more to chant their glorious Creed, + And thankful own their nation freed + From those who cast her glories down, + And rent away her Cross and Crown. + A stranger knelt among the crowd, + And joined his voice in praises loud, + And when the holy rites had ceased, + Held converse with the aged Priest, + Then turned to join the village feast, + Where, raised on the hill's summit green, + The Maypole's flowery wreaths were seen; + Beneath the venerable yew + The stranger stood the sports to view, + Unmarked by all, for each was bent + On his own scheme of merriment, + On talking, laughing, dancing, playing - + There never was so blithe a Maying. + So thought each laughing maiden gay, + Whose head-gear bore the oaken spray; + So thought that hand of shouting boys, + Unchecked in their best joy--in noise; + But gray-haired men, whose deep-marked scars + Bore token of the civil wars, + And hooded dames in cloaks of red, + At the blithe youngsters shook the head, + Gathering in eager clusters told + How joyous were the days of old, + When Beechcroft's lords, those Barons bold, + Came forth to join their vassals' sport, + And here to hold their rustic court, + Throned in the ancient chair you see + Beneath our noble old yew tree. + Alas! all empty stands the throne, + Reserved for Mohun's race alone, + And the old folks can only tell + Of the good lords who ruled so well. + "Ah! I bethink me of the time, + The last before those years of crime, + When with his open hearty cheer, + The good old squire was sitting here." + "'Twas then," another voice replied, + "That brave young Master Maurice tried + To pitch the ball with Andrew Grey - + We ne'er shall see so blithe a day - + All the young squires have long been dead." + "No, Master Webb," quoth Andrew Grey, + "Young Master Maurice safely fled, + At least so all the Greenwoods say, + And Walter Greenwood with him went + To share his master's banishment; + And now King Charles is ruling here, + Our own good landlord may be near." + "Small hope of that," the old man said, + And sadly shook his hoary head, + "Sir Maurice died beyond the sea, + Last of his noble line was he." + "Look, Master Webb!" he turned, and there + The stranger sat in Mohun's chair; + At ease he sat, and smiled to scan + The face of each astonished man; + Then on the ground he laid aside + His plumed hat and mantle wide. + One moment, Andrew deemed he knew + Those glancing eyes of hazel hue, + But the sunk cheek, the figure spare, + The lines of white that streak the hair - + How can this he the stripling gay, + Erst, victor in the sports of May? + Full twenty years of cheerful toil, + And labour on his native soil, + On Andrew's head had left no trace - + The summer's sun, the winter's storm, + They had but ruddier made his face, + More hard his hand, more strong his form. + Forth from the wandering, whispering crowd, + A farmer came, and spoke aloud, + With rustic bow and welcome fair, + But with a hesitating air - + He told how custom well preserved + The throne for Mohun's race reserved; + The stranger laughed, "What, Harrington, + Hast thou forgot thy landlord's son?" + Loud was the cry, and blithe the shout, + On Beechcroft hill that now rang out, + And still remembered is the day, + That merry twenty-ninth of May, + When to his father's home returned + That knight, whose glory well was earned. + In poverty and banishment, + His prime of manhood had been spent, + A wanderer, scorned by Charles's court, + One faithful servant his support. + And now, he seeks his home forlorn, + Broken in health, with sorrow worn. + And two short years just passed away, + Between that joyous meeting-day, + And the sad eve when Beechcroft's bell + Tolled forth Sir Maurice's funeral knell; +And Phyllis, whose love was so constant and tried, +Was a widow the year she was Maurice's bride; +Yet the path of the noble and true-hearted knight, +Was brilliant with honour, and glory, and light, +And still his descendants shall sing of the fame +Of Sir Maurice de Mohun, the pride of his name.' + + +'It is a pity they should sing of it in such lines as those last +four,' said Claude. 'Let me see, I like your bringing in the real +names, though I doubt whether any but Greenwood could have been found +here.' + +'Oh! here come Emily and Jane,' said Lily, 'let me put it away.' + +'You are very much afraid of Jane,' said Claude. + +'Yes, Jane has no feeling for poetry,' said Lily, with simplicity, +which made her brother smile. + +Jane and Emily now came up, the former with her work, the latter with +a camp-stool and a book. 'I wonder,' said she, 'where those boys +are! By the bye, what character did they bring home from school?' + +'The same as usual,' said Claude. 'Maurice's mind only half given to +his work, and Redgie's whole mind to his play.' + +'Maurice's talent does not lie in the direction of Latin and Greek,' +said Emily. + +'No,' said Jane, 'it is nonsense to make him learn it, and so he +says.' + +'Perhaps he would say the same of mathematics and mechanics, if as +great a point were made of them,' said Lily. + +'I think not,' said Claude; 'he has more notion of them than of Latin +verses.' + +'Then you are on my side,' said Jane, triumphantly. + +'Did I say so?' said Claude. + +'Why not?' said Jane. 'What is the use of his knowing those stupid +languages? I am sure it is wasting time not to improve such a genius +as he has for mechanics and natural history. Now, Claude, I wish you +would answer.' + +'I was waiting till you had done,' said Claude. + +'Why do you not think it nonsense?' persisted Jane. + +'Because I respect my father's opinion,' said Claude, letting himself +fall on the grass, as if he had done with the subject. + +'Pooh!' said Jane, 'that sounds like a good little boy of five years +old!' + +'Very likely,' said Claude. + +'But you have some opinion of your own,' said Lily. + +'Certainly.' + +'Then I wish you would give it,' said Jane. + +'Come, Emily,' said Claude, 'have you brought anything to read?' + +'But your opinion, Claude,' said Jane. 'I am sure you think with me, +only you are too grand, and too correct to say so.' + +Claude made no answer, but Jane saw she was wrong by his countenance; +before she could say anything more, however, they were interrupted by +a great outcry from the Old Court regions. + +'Oh,' said Emily, 'I thought it was a long time since we had heard +anything of those uproarious mortals.' + +'I hope there is nothing the matter,' said Lily. + +'Oh no,' said Jane, 'I hear Redgie's laugh.' + +'Aye, but among that party,' said Emily, 'Redgie's laugh is not +always a proof of peace: they are too much in the habit of acting +the boys and the frogs.' + +'We were better off,' said Lily, 'with the gentle Claude, as Miss +Middleton used to call him.' + +'Miss Molly, as William used to call him with more propriety,' said +Claude, 'not half so well worth playing with as such a fellow as +Redgie.' + +'Not even for young ladies?' said Emily. + +'No, Phyllis and Ada are much the better for being teased,' said +Claude. 'I am convinced that I never did my duty by you in that +respect.' + +'There were others to do it for you,' said Jane. + +'Harry never teased,' said Emily, 'and William scorned us.' + +'His teasing was all performed upon Claude,' said Lily, 'and a great +shame it was.' + +'Not at all,' said Claude, 'only an injudicious attempt to put a +little life into a tortoise.' + +'A bad comparison,' said Lily; 'but what is all this? Here come the +children in dismay! What is the matter, my dear child?' + +This was addressed to Phyllis, who was the first to come up at full +speed, sobbing, and out of breath, 'Oh, the dragon-fly! Oh, do not +let him kill it!' + +'The dragon-fly, the poor dear blue dragon-fly!' screamed Adeline, +hiding her face in Emily's lap, 'Oh, do not let him kill it! he is +holding it; he is hurting it! Oh, tell him not!' + +'I caught it,' said Phyllis, 'but not to have it killed. Oh, take it +away!' + +'A fine rout, indeed, you chicken,' said Reginald; 'I know a fellow +who ate up five horse-stingers one morning before breakfast.' + +'Stingers!' said Phyllis, 'they do not sting anything, pretty +creatures.' + +'I told you I would catch the old pony and put it on him to try,' +said Reginald. + +In the meantime, Maurice came up at his leisure, holding his prize by +the wings. 'Look what a beautiful Libellulla Puella,' said he to +Jane. + +'A demoiselle dragon-fly,' said Lily; 'what a beauty! what are you +going to do with it?' + +'Put it into my museum,' said Maurice. 'Here, Jane, put it under +this flower-pot, and take care of it, while I fetch something to kill +it with.' + +'Oh, Maurice, do not!' said Emily. + +'One good squeeze,' said Reginald. 'I will do it.' + +'How came you be so cruel?' said Lily. + +'No, a squeeze will not do,' said Maurice; 'it would spoil its +beauty; I must put it ever the fumes of carbonic acid.' + +'Maurice, you really must not,' said Emily. + +'Now do not, dear Maurice,' said Ada, 'there's a dear boy; I will +give you such a kiss.' + +'Nonsense; get out of the way,' said Maurice, turning away. + +'Now, Maurice, this is most horrid cruelty,' said Lily; 'what right +have you to shorten the brief, happy life which--' + +'Well,' interrupted Maurice, 'if you make such a fuss about killing +it, I will stick a pin through it into a cork, and let it shift for +itself.' + +Poor Phyllis ran away to the other end of the garden, sat down and +sobbed, Ada screamed and argued, Emily complained, Lily exhorted +Claude to interfere, while Reginald stood laughing. + +'Such useless cruelty,' said Emily. + +'Useless!' said Maurice. 'Pray how is any one to make a collection +of natural objects without killing things?' + +'I do not see the use of a collection,' said Lily; 'you can examine +the creatures and let them go.' + +'Such a young lady's tender-hearted notion,' said Reginald. + +'Who ever heard of a man of science managing in such a ridiculous +way?' + +'Man of science!' exclaimed Lily, 'when he will have forgotten by +next Christmas that insects ever existed.' + +It was not convenient to hear this speech, so Maurice turned an empty +flower-pot over his prisoner, and left it in Jane's care while he +went to fetch the means of destruction, probably choosing the lawn +for the place of execution, in order to show his contempt for his +sisters. + +'Fair damsel in boddice blue,' said Lily, peeping in at the hole at +the top of the flower-pot, 'I wish I could avert your melancholy +fate. I am very sorry for you, but I cannot help it.' + +'You might help it now, at any rate,' muttered Claude. + +'No,' said Lily, 'I know Monsieur Maurice too well to arouse his +wrath so justly. If you choose to release the pretty creature, I +shall be charmed.' + +'You forget that I am in charge,' said Jane. + +'There is a carriage coming to the front gate,' cried Ada. 'Emily, +may I go into the drawing-room? Oh, Jenny, will you undo my brown +holland apron?' + +'That is right, little mincing Miss,' said Reginald, with a low bow; +'how fine we are to-day.' + +'How visitors break into the afternoon,' said Emily, with a languid +turn of her head. + +'Jenny, brownie,' called Maurice from his bedroom window, 'I want the +sulphuric acid.' + +Jane sprang up and ran into the house, though her sisters called +after her, that she would come full upon the company in the hall. + +'They shall not catch me here,' cried Reginald, rushing off into the +shrubbery. + +'Are you coming in, Claude?' said Emily. + +'Send Ada to call me, if there is any one worth seeing,' said Claude + +'They will see you from the window,' said Emily. + +'No,' said Claude, 'no one ever found me out last summer, under these +friendly branches.' + +The old butler, Joseph, now showed himself on the terrace; and the +young ladies, knowing that he had no intention of crossing the lawn, +hastened to learn from him who their visitors were, and entered the +house. Just then Phyllis came running back from the kitchen garden, +and without looking round, or perceiving Claude, she took up the +flower-pot and released the captive, which, unconscious of its peril, +rested on a blade of grass, vibrating its gauzy wings and rejoicing +in the restored sunbeams. + +'Fly away, fly away, you pretty creature,' said Phyllis; 'make haste, +or Maurice will come and catch you again. I wish I had not given you +such a fright. I thought you would have been killed, and a pin stuck +all through that pretty blue and black body of yours. Oh! that would +be dreadful. Make haste and go away! I would not have caught you, +you beautiful thing, if I had known what he wanted to do. I thought +he only wanted to look at your beautiful body, like a little bit of +the sky come down to look at the flowers, and your delicate wings, +and great shining eyes. Oh! I am very glad God made you so +beautiful. Oh! there is Maurice coming. I must blow upon you to +make you go. Oh, that is right--up quite high in the air--quite +safe,' and she clapped her hands as the dragon-fly rose in the air, +and disappeared behind the laurels, just as Maurice and Reginald +emerged from the shrubbery, the former with a bottle in his hand. + +'Well, where is the Libellulla?' said he. + +'The dragon-fly?' said Phyllis. 'I let it out.' + +'Sold, Maurice!' cried Reginald, laughing at his brother's disaster. + +'Upon my word, Phyl, you are very kind!' said Maurice, angrily. 'If +I had known you were such an ill-natured crab--' + +'Oh! Maurice dear, don't say so,' exclaimed Phyllis. 'I thought I +might let it out because I caught it myself; and I told you I did not +catch it for you to kill; Maurice, indeed, I am sorry I vexed you.' + +'What else did you do it for?' said Maurice. 'It is horrid not to be +able to leave one's things a minute--' + +'But I did not know the dragon-fly belonged to you, Maurice,' said +Phyllis. + +'That is a puzzler, Mohun senior,' said Reginald. + +'Now, Redgie, do get Maurice to leave off being angry with me,' +implored his sister. + +'I will leave off being angry,' said Maurice, seeing his advantage, +'if you will promise never to let out my things again.' + +'I do not think I can promise,' said Phyllis. + +'O yes, you can,' said Reginald, 'you know they are not his.' + +'Promise you will not let out any insects I may get,' said Maurice, +'or I shall say you are as cross as two sticks.' + +'I'll tell you what, Maurice,' said Phyllis, 'I do wish you would not +make me promise, for I do not think I CAN keep it, for I cannot bear +to see the beautiful live things killed.' + +'Nonsense,' said Maurice, fiercely, 'I am very angry indeed, you +naughty child; promise--' + +'I cannot,' said Phyllis, beginning to cry. + +'Then,' said Maurice, 'I will not speak to you all day.' + +'No, no,' shouted Reginald, 'we will only treat her like the horse- +stinger; you wanted a puella, Maurice--here is one for you, here, +give her a dose of the turpentine.' + +'Yes,' said Maurice, advancing with his bottle; 'and do you take the +poker down to Naylor's to be sharpened, it will just do to stick +through her back. Oh! no, not Naylor's--the girls have made a hash +there, as they do everything else; but we will settle her before they +come out again.' + +Phyllis screamed and begged for mercy--her last ally had deserted +her. + +'Promise!' cried the boys. + +'Oh, don't!' was all her answer. + +Reginald caught her and held her fast, Maurice advanced upon her, she +struggled, and gave a scream of real terror. The matter was no joke +to any one but Reginald, for Maurice was very angry and really meant +to frighten her. + +'Hands off, boys, I will not have her bullied,' said Claude, half +rising. + +Maurice gave a violent start, Reginald looked round laughing, and +exclaimed, 'Who would have thought of Claude sneaking there?' and +Phyllis ran to the protecting arm, which he stretched out. To her +great surprise, he drew her to him, and kissed her forehead, saying, +'Well done, Phyl!' + +'Oh, I knew he was not going to hurt me,' said Phyllis, still panting +from the struggle. + +'To be sure not,' said Maurice, 'I only meant to have a little fun.' + +Claude, with his arm still round his sister's waist, gave Maurice a +look, expressing, 'Is that the truth?' and Reginald tumbled head over +heels, exclaiming, 'I would not have been Phyl just them.' + +Ada now came running up to them, saying, 'Maurice and Redgie, you are +to come in; Mr. and Mrs. Burnet heard your voices, and begged to see +you, because they never saw you last holidays.' + +'More's the pity they should see us now,' said Maurice. + +'I shall not go,' said Reginald. + +'Papa is there, and he sent for you,' said Ada. + +'Plague,' was the answer. + +'See what you get by making such a row,' said Claude. 'If you had +been as orderly members of society as I am--' + +'Oh, but Claude,' said Ada, 'papa told me to see if I could find you. +Dear Claude, I wish,' she proceeded, taking his hand, and looking +engaging, 'I wish you would put your arm round me as you do round +Phyl.' + +'You are not worth it, Ada,' said Reginald, and Claude did not +contradict him. + + + +CHAPTER VIII--THE BROTHERS + + + +'But smiled to hear the creatures he had known +So long were now in class and order shown - +Genus and species. "Is it meet," said he, +"This creature's name should one so sounding be - +'Tis but a fly, though first-born of the spring, +Bombylius Majus, dost thou call the thing?" + +It was not till Sunday, that Lily's eager wish was fulfilled, of +introducing her friend and her brothers; but, as she might have +foreseen, their first meeting did not make the perfections of either +party very clear to the other. Claude never spoke to strangers more +than he could help, Maurice and Reginald were in the room only a +short time; so that the result of Miss Weston's observations, when +communicated in reply to Lily's eager inquiries, was only that Claude +was very like his father and eldest brother, Reginald very handsome, +and Maurice looked like a very funny fellow. + +On Monday, Reginald and Maurice were required to learn what they had +always refused to acknowledge, that the holidays were not intended to +be spent in idleness. A portion of each morning was to be devoted to +study, Claude having undertaken the task of tutor--and hard work he +found it; and much did Lily pity him, when, as not unfrequently +happened, the summons to the children's dinner would bring him from +the study, looking thoroughly fagged--Maurice in so sulky a mood that +he would hardly deign to open his lips--Reginald talking fast enough, +indeed, but only to murmur at his duties in terms, which, though they +made every one laugh, were painful to hear. Then Claude would take +his brothers back to the study, and not appear for an hour or more, +and when he did come forth, it was with a bad headache. Sometimes, +as if to show that it was only through their own fault that their +tasks were wearisome, one or both boys would finish quite early, when +Reginald would betake himself to the schoolroom and employ his idle +time in making it nearly impossible for Ada and Phyllis to learn, by +talking, laughing, teasing the canary, overturning everything in +pursuing wasps, making Emily fretful by his disobedience, and then +laughing at her, and, in short, proving his right to the title he had +given himself at the end of the only letter he had written since he +first went to school, and which he had subscribed, 'Your affectionate +bother, R. Mohun.' So that, for their own sake, all would have +preferred the inattentive mornings. + +Lily often tried to persuade Claude to allow her to tell her father +how troublesome the boys were, but never with any effect. He once +took up a book he had been using with them, and pointing to the name +in the first page, in writing, which Lily knew full well, 'Henry +Mohun,' she perceived that he meant to convince her that it was +useless to try to dissuade him, as he thought the patience and +forbearance his brother had shown to him must be repaid by his not +shrinking from the task he had imposed upon himself with his young +brothers, though he was often obliged to sit up part of the night to +pursue his own studies. + +If Claude had rather injudiciously talked too much to Lilias of 'her +principle,' and thus kept it alive in her mind, yet his example might +have made its fallacy evident. She believed that what she called +love had been the turning point in his character, that it had been +his earnest desire to follow in Henry's steps, and so try to comfort +his father for his loss, that had roused him from his indolence; but +she was beginning to see that nothing but a sense of duty could have +kept up the power of that first impulse for six years. Lily began to +enter a little into his principle, and many things that occurred +during these holidays made her mistrust her former judgment. She saw +that without the unvarying principle of right and wrong, fraternal +love itself would fail in outward acts and words. Forbearance, +though undeniably a branch of love, could not exist without constant +remembrance of duty; and which of them did not sometimes fail in +kindness, meekness, and patience? Did Emily show that softness, +which was her most agreeable characteristic, in her whining reproofs- +-in her complaints that 'no one listened to a word she said'--in her +refusal to do justice even to those who had vainly been seeking for +peace? Did Lily herself show any of her much valued love, by the +sharp manner in which she scolded the boys for roughness towards +herself? or for language often used by them on purpose to make her +displeasure a matter of amusement? She saw that her want of command +of temper was a failure both in love and duty, and when irritated, +the thought of duty came sooner to her aid than the feeling of love. + +And Maurice and Reginald were really very provoking. Maurice loved +no amusement better than teasing his sisters, and this was almost the +only thing in which Reginald agreed with him. Reginald was +affectionate, but too reckless and violent not to be very +troublesome, and he too often flew into a passion if Maurice +attempted to laugh at him; the little girls were often frightened and +made unhappy; Phyllis would scream and roar, and Ada would come +sobbing to Emily, to be comforted after some rudeness of Reginald's. +It was not very often that quarrels went so far, but many a time in +thought, word, and deed was the rule of love transgressed, and more +than once did Emily feel ready to give up all her dignity, to have +Eleanor's hand over the boys once more. Claude, finding that he +could do much to prevent mischief, took care not to leave the two +boys long together with the elder girls. They were far more +inoffensive when separate, as Maurice never practised his tormenting +tricks when no one was present to laugh with him, and Reginald was +very kind to Phyllis and Ada, although somewhat rude. + +It was a day or two after they returned that Phyllis was leaning on +the window-sill in the drawing-room, watching a passing shower, and +admiring the soft bright tints of a rainbow upon the dark gray mass +of cloud. 'I do set my bow in the cloud,' repeated she to herself +over and over again, until Adeline entering the room, she eagerly +exclaimed, 'Oh Ada, come and look at this beautiful rainbow, green, +and pink, and purple. A double one, with so many stripes, Ada. See, +there is a little bit more green.' + +'There is no green in a rainbow,' said Ada. + +'But look, Ada, that is green.' + +'It is not real green. Blue, red, and yellow are the pragmatic +colours,' said Ada, with a most triumphant air. 'Now are not they, +Maurice?' said she, turning to her brother, who was, as usual, deep +in entomology. + +'Pragmatic, you foolish child,' said he. 'Prismatic you mean. I am +glad you remember what I tell you, however; I think I might teach you +some science in time. You are right in saying that blue, red, and +yellow are the prismatic colours. Now do you know what causes a +rainbow?' + +'It is to show there is never to be another flood,' said Phyllis, +gravely. + +'Oh, I did not mean that,' said Maurice, addressing himself to Ada, +whose love of hard words made him deem her a promising pupil, and +whom he could lecture without interruption. 'The rainbow is caused +by--' + +'But, Maurice!' exclaimed Phyllis, remaining with mouth wide open. + +'The rainbow is occasioned by the refraction of the rays of the sun +in the drops of water of which a cloud is composed.' + +'But, Maurice!' again said Phyllis. + +'Well, what do you keep on "but, Mauricing," about?' + +'But, Maurice, I thought it said, "I do set my bow in the cloud." Is +not that right? I will look.' + +'I know that, but I know the iris, or rainbow, is a natural +phenomenon occasioned by the refraction.' + +'But, Maurice, I can't bear you to say that;' and poor Phyllis sat +down and began to cry. + +Ada interfered. 'Why, Maurice, you believe the Bible, don't you?' + +This last speech was heard by Lilias, who just now entered the room, +and greatly surprised her. 'What can you be talking of?' said she. + +'Only some nonsense of the children's,' said Maurice, shortly. + +'But only hear what he says,' cried Ada. 'He says the rainbow was +not put there to show there is never to be another flood!' + +'Now, Lily,' said Maurice, 'I do not think there is much use in +talking to you, but I wish you to understand that all I said was, +that the rainbow, or iris, is a natural phenomenon occasioned by the +refraction of the solar--' + +'You will certainly bewilder yourself into something dreadful with +that horrid science,' said Lily. 'What is the matter with Phyl?' + +'Only crying because of what I said,' answered Maurice. 'So +childish, and you are just as bad.' + +'But do you mean to say,' exclaimed Lily, 'that you set this human +theory above the authority of the Bible?' + +'It is common sense,' said Maurice; 'I could make a rainbow any day.' + +Whereupon Phyllis cried the more, and Lily looked infinitely shocked. +'This is philosophy and vain deceit,' said she; 'the very thing that +tends to infidelity.' + +'I can't help it--it is universally allowed,' said the boy doggedly. + +It was fortunate that the next person who entered the room was +Claude, and all at once he was appealed to by the four disputants, +Lily the loudest and most vehement. 'Claude, listen to him, and tell +him to throw away these hateful new lights, which lead to everything +that is shocking!' + +'Listen to him, with three ladies talking at once?' said Claude. +'No, not Phyl--her tears only are eloquent; but it is a mighty war +about the token of peace and LOVE, Lily.' + +'The love would be in driving these horrible philosophical +speculations out of Maurice's mind,' said Lily. + +'No one can ever drive out the truth,' said Maurice, with provoking +coolness. 'Don't let her scratch out my eyes, Claude.' + +'I am not so sure of that maxim,' said Claude. 'Truth is chiefly +injured--I mean, her force weakened, by her own supporters.' + +'Then you agree with me,' said Maurice, 'as, in fact, every rational +person must.' + +'Then you are with me,' said Lily, in the same breath; 'and you will +convince Maurice of the danger of this nonsense.' + +'Umph,' sighed Claude, throwing himself into his father's arm-chair, +''tis a Herculean labour! It seems I agree with you both.' + +'Why, every Christian must be with me, who has not lost his way in a +mist of his own raising,' said Lilias. + +'Do you mean to say,' said Maurice, 'that these colours are not +produced by refraction? Look at them on those prisms;' and he +pointed to an old-fashioned lustre on the chimney-piece. 'I hope +this is not a part of the Christian faith.' + +'Take care, Maurice,' and Claude's eyes were bent upon him in a +manner that made him shrink. And he added, 'Of course I do believe +that chapter about Noah. I only meant that the immediate cause of +the rainbow is the refraction of light. I did not mean to be +irreverent, only the girls took me up in such a way.' + +'And I know well enough that you can make those colours by light on +drops of water,' said Lily. + +'So you agreed all the time,' said Claude. + +'But,' added Lily, 'I never liked to know it; for it always seemed to +be explaining away the Bible, and I cannot bear not to regard that +lovely bow as a constant miracle.' + +'You will remember,' said Claude, 'that some commentators say it +should be, "I HAVE set my bow in the cloud," which would make what +already existed become a token for the future. + +'I don't like that explanation,' said Lily. + +'Others say,' added Claude, 'that there might have been no rain at +all till the windows of heaven were opened at the flood, and, in that +case, the first recurrence of rain must have greatly alarmed Noah's +family, if they had not been supported and cheered by the sight of +the rainbow.' + +'That is reasonable,' said Maurice. + +'I hate reason applied to revelation,' said Lily. + +'It is a happier state of mind which does not seek to apply it,' said +Claude, looking at Phyllis, who had dried her tears, and stood in the +window gazing at him, in the happy certainty that he was setting all +right. Maurice respected Claude for his science as much as his +character, and did not make game of this observation as he would if +it had been made by one of his sisters, but he looked at him with an +odd expression of perplexity. 'You do not think ignorant credulity +better than reasonable belief?' said he at length. + +'It is not I only who think most highly of child-like unquestioning +faith, Maurice,' said Claude--'faith, that is based upon love and +reverence,' added he to Lily. 'But come, the shower is over, and +philosophers, or no philosophers, I invite you to walk in the wood.' + +'Aye,' said Maurice, 'I daresay I can find some of the Arachne +species there. By the bye, Claude, do you think papa would let me +have a piece of plate-glass, eighteen by twenty, to cover my case of +insects?' + +'Ask, and you will discover,' said Claude. + +Accordingly, Maurice began the next morning at breakfast, 'Papa, may +I have a piece of plate-glass, eighteen by--?' + +But no one heard, for Emily was at the moment saying, 'The Westons +are to dine here to-day.' + +Claude and Maurice both looked blank. + +'I persuaded papa to ask the Westons,' said Lily, 'because I am +determined that Claude shall like Alethea.' + +'You must expect that I shall not, you have given me so many orders +on the subject,' said Claude. + +'Take care it has not the same effect as to tell Maurice to like a +book,' said Emily; 'nothing makes his aversion so certain.' + +'Except when he takes it up by mistake, and forgets that it has been +recommended to him,' said Claude. + +'Take care, Redgie, with your knife; don't put out my eyes in your +ardour against that wretched wasp. Wat Greenwood may well say "there +is a terrible sight of waspses this year."' + +'I killed twenty-nine yesterday,' said Reginald. + +'And I will tell you what I saw,' said Phyllis; 'I was picking up +apples, and the wasps were flying all round, and there came a +hornet.' + +'Vespa Crabro!' cried Maurice; 'oh, I must have one!' + +'Well, what of the hornet?' said Mr. Mohun. + +'I'll tell you what,' resumed Phyllis, 'he saw a wasp flying, and so +he went up in the air, and pounced on the poor wasp as the hawk did +on Jane's bantam. So then he hung himself up to the branch of a tree +by one of his legs, and held the wasp with the other five, and began +to pack it up. First he bit off the yellow tail, then the legs, and +threw them away, and then there was nothing left but the head, and so +he flew away with it to his nest.' + +'Which way did he go?' said Maurice. + +'To the Old Court,' answered Phyllis; 'I think the nest is in the +roof of the old cow-house, for they were flying in and out there +yesterday, and one was eating out the wood from the old rails.' + +'Well,' said Mr. Mohun, 'you must show me a hornet hawking for wasps +before the nest is taken, Phyllis; I suppose you have seen the wasps +catching flies?' + +'Oh yes, papa! but they pack them up quite differently. They do not +hang by one leg, but they sit down quite comfortably on a branch +while they bite off the wings and legs.' + +'There, Maurice,' said Mr. Mohun, 'I had rather hear of one such +well-observed fact than of a dozen of your hard names and impaled +insects.' + +Phyllis looked quite radiant with delight at his approbation. + +'But, papa,' said Maurice, 'may I have a piece of plate-glass, +eighteen by twenty?' + +'When you observe facts in natural history, perhaps I may say +something to your entomology,' said Mr. Mohun. + +'But, papa, all my insects will be spoilt if I may not have a piece +of glass, eighteen by--' + +He was interrupted by the arrival of the post-bag, which Jane, as +usual, opened. 'A letter from Rotherwood,' said she; 'I hope he is +coming at last.' + +'He is,' said Claude, reading the letter, 'but only from Saturday +till Wednesday.' + +'He never gave us so little of his good company as he has this +summer,' said Emily. + +'You will have them all in the autumn, to comfort you,' said Claude, +'for he hereby announces the marvellous fact, that the Marchioness +sends him to see if the castle is fit to receive her.' + +'Are you sure he is not only believing what he wishes?' said Mr. +Mohun. + +'I think he will gain his point at last,' said Claude. + +'How stupid of him to stay no longer!' said Reginald. + +'I think he has some scheme for this vacation,' said Claude, 'and I +suppose he means to crowd all the Beechcroft diversions of a whole +summer into those few days.' + +'Emily,' said Mr. Mohun, 'I wish him to know the Carringtons; invite +them and the Westons to dinner on Tuesday.' + +'Oh don't!' cried Reginald. 'It will be so jolly to have him to take +wasps' nests; and may I go out rabbit-shooting with him?' + +'If he goes.' + +'And may I carry a gun?' + +'If it is not loaded,' said his father. + +'Indeed, I would do no mischief,' said Reginald. + +'Let me give you one piece of advice, Reginald,' said Mr. Mohun, with +a mysterious air--'never make rash promises.' + +Lilias was rather disappointed in her hopes that Miss Weston and +Claude would become better acquainted. At dinner the conversation +was almost entirely between the elder gentlemen; Claude scarcely +spoke, except when referred to by his father or Mr. Devereux. Miss +Weston never liked to incur the danger of having to repeat her +insignificant speeches to a deaf ear, and being interested in the +discussion that was going on, she by no means seconded Lily's attempt +to get up an under-current of talk. In general, Lily liked to listen +to conversation in silence, but she was now in very high spirits, and +could not be quiet; fortunately, she had no interest in the subject +the gentlemen were discussing, so that she could not meddle with +that, and finding Alethea silent and Claude out of reach, she turned +to Reginald, and talked and tittered with him all dinner-time. + +In the drawing-room she had it all her own way, and talked enough for +all the sisters. + +'Have you heard that Cousin Rotherwood is coming?' + +'Yes, you said so before dinner.' + +'We hope,' said Emily, 'that you and Mr. Weston will dine here on +Tuesday. The Carringtons are coming, and a few others.' + +'Thank you,' said Alethea; 'I daresay papa will be very glad to +come.' + +'Have you ever seen Rotherwood?' said Lilias. + +'Never,' was the reply. + +'Do not expect much,' said Lily, laughing, though she knew not why; +'he is a very little fellow; no one would suppose him to be twenty, +he has such a boyish look. Then he never sits down--' + +'Literally?' said Emily. + +'Literally,' persisted Lily; 'such a quick person you never did see.' + +'Is he at Oxford?' + +'Oh yes! it was all papa's doing that he was sent to Eton. Papa is +his guardian. Aunt Rotherwood never would have parted with him.' + +'He is the only son,' interposed Emily. + +'Uncle Rotherwood put him quite in papa's power; Aunt Rotherwood +wanted to keep him at home with a tutor, and what she would have made +of him I cannot think,' said Lily; and regardless of Emily's warning +frowns, and Alethea's attempt to change the subject, she went on: +'When he was quite a child he used to seem a realisation of all the +naughty Dicks and Toms in story-books. Miss Middleton had a perfect +horror of his coming here, for he would mind no one, and played +tricks and drew Claude into mischief; but he is quite altered since +papa had the management of him--Oh! such talks as papa has had with +Aunt Rotherwood--do you know, papa says no one knows what it is to +lose a father but those who have the care of his children, and Aunt +Rotherwood is so provoking.' + +Here Alethea determined to put an end to this oration, and to Emily's +great relief, she cut short the detail of Lady Rotherwood's offences +by saying, 'Do you think Faith Longley likely to suit us, if we took +her to help the housemaid?' + +'Are you thinking of taking her?' cried Lily. 'Yes, for steady, +stupid household work, Faith would do very well; she is just the +stuff to make a servant of--"for dulness ever must be regular"--I +mean for those who like mere steadiness better than anything more +lovable.' + +As Alethea said, laughing, 'I must confess my respect for that +quality,' Mr. Devereux and Claude entered the room. + +'Oh, Robert!' cried Lily, 'Mrs. Weston is going to take Faith Longley +to help the housemaid.' + +'You are travelling too fast, Lily,' said Alethea, 'she is only going +to think about it.' + +'I should be very glad,' said Mr. Devereux, 'that Faith should have a +good place; the Longleys are very respectable people, and they +behaved particularly well in refusing to let this girl go and live +with some dissenters at Stoney Bridge.' + +'I like what I have seen of the girl very much,' said Miss Weston. + +'In spite of her sad want of feeling,' said Robert, smiling, as he +looked at Lily. + +'Oh! she is a good work-a-day sort of person,' said Lily, 'like all +other poor people, hard and passive. Now, do not set up your +eyebrows, Claude, I am quite serious, there is no warmth about any +except--' + +'So this is what Lily is come to!' cried Emily; 'the grand supporter +of the poor on poetical principles.' + +'The poor not affectionate!' said Alethea. + +'Not, compared within people whose minds and affections have been +cultivated,' said Lily. 'Now just hear what Mrs. Wall said to me +only yesterday; she asked for a black stuff gown out of the clothing +club, "for," said she, "I had a misfortune, Miss;" I thought it would +be, "and tore my gown," but it was, "I had a misfortune, Miss, and +lost my brother."' + +'A very harsh conclusion on very slight grounds,' said Mr. Devereux. + +'Prove the contrary,' said Lily. + +'Facts would scarcely demonstrate it either way,' said Mr. Devereux. +'They would only prove what was the case with individuals who chanced +to come in our way, and if we are seldom able to judge of the depth +of feeling of those with whom we are familiar, how much less of those +who feel our presence a restraint.' + +'Intense feeling mocks restraint,' said Lily. + +'Violent, not intense,' said Mr. Devereux. 'Besides, you talk of +cultivating the affections. Now what do you mean? Exercising them, +or talking about them?' + +'Ah!' said Emily, 'the affection of a poor person is more tried; we +blame a poor man for letting his old mother go to the workhouse, +without considering how many of us would do the same, if we had as +little to live upon.' + +'Still,' said Alethea, 'the same man who would refuse to maintain her +if poor, would not bear with her infirmities if rich.' + +'Are the poor never infirm and peevish?' said Mr. Devereux. + +'Oh! how much worse it must be to bear with ill-temper in poverty,' +said Emily, 'when we think it quite wonderful to see a young lady +kind and patient with a cross old relation; what must it be when she +is denying herself, not only her pleasure, but her food for her sake; +not merely sitting quietly with her all day, and calling a servant to +wait upon her, but toiling all day to maintain her, and keeping awake +half the night to nurse her?' + +'Those are realities, indeed,' said Alethea; 'our greatest efforts +seem but child's play in comparison.' + +Lilias could hardly have helped being sobered by this conversation if +she had attended to it, but she had turned away to repeat the story +of Mrs. Walls to Jane, and then, fancying that the others were still +remarking upon it, she said in a light, laughing tone, 'Well, so far +I agree with you. I know of a person who may well be called one of +ourselves, who I could quite fancy making such a speech.' + +'Whom do you mean?' said Mr. Devereux. Alethea wished she did not +know. + +'No very distant relation,' said Jane. + +'Do not talk nonsense, Jane,' said Claude, gravely. + +'No nonsense at all, Claude,' cried Jane in her very very pertest +tone, 'it is exactly like Eleanor; I am sure I can see her with her +hands before her, saying in her prim voice, "I must turn my old black +silk and trim it with crape, for I have had a misfortune, and lost my +brother."' + +'Lilias,' said Miss Weston, somewhat abruptly, 'did you not wish to +sing with me this evening?' + +And thus she kept Lilias from any further public mischief that +evening. + +Claude, exceedingly vexed by what had passed, with great injustice, +laid the blame upon Miss Weston, and instead of rendering her the +honour which she really deserved for the tact with which she had put +an end to the embarrassment of all parties, he fancied she was +anxious to display her talents for music, and thus only felt fretted +by the sounds. + +Mr. Weston and his daughter intended to walk home that evening, as it +was a beautiful moonlight night. + +'Oh, let us convoy you!' exclaimed Lilias; 'I do long to show Alethea +a glow-worm. Will you come, Claude? May we, papa? Feel how still +and warm it is. A perfect summer night, not a breath stirring.' + +Mr. Mohun consented, and Lily almost hurried Alethea upstairs, to put +on her bonnet and shawl. When she came down she found that the +walking party had increased. Jane and Reginald would both have been +in despair to have missed such a frolic; Maurice hoped to fall in +with the droning beetle, or to lay violent hands on a glow-worm; +Emily did not like to be left behind, and even Mr. Mohun was going, +being in the midst of an interesting conversation with Mr. Weston. +Lily, with an absurd tragic gesture, told Alethea that amongst so +many, such a crowd, all the grace and sweet influence of the walk was +ruined. The 'sweet influence' was ruined as far as Lily was +concerned, but not by the number of her companions. It was the +uneasy feeling caused by her over-strained spirits and foolish +chattering that prevented her from really entering into the charm of +the soft air, the clear moon, the solemn deep blue sky, the few +stars, the white lilies on the dark pond, the long shadows of the +trees, the freshness of the dewy fields. Her simplicity, and her +genuine delight in the loveliness of the scene, was gone for the +time, and though she spoke much of her enjoyment, it was in a high- +flown affected style. + +When the last good-night had been exchanged, and Lily had turned +homeward, she felt the stillness which succeeded their farewells +almost oppressive; she started at the dark shadow of a tree which lay +across the path, and to shake off a sensation of fear which was +coming over her, she put her arm within Claude's, exclaiming, 'You +naughty boy, you will be stupid and silent, say what I will.' + +'I heard enough to-night to strike me dumb,' said Claude. + +For one moment Lily thought he was in jest, but the gravity of his +manner showed her that he was both grieved and displeased, and she +changed her tone as she said, 'Oh! Claude, what do you mean?' + +'Do you not know?' said Claude. + +'What, you mean about Eleanor?' said Lily; 'you must fall upon Miss +Jenny there--it was her doing.' + +'Jane's tongue is a pest,' said Claude; 'but she was not the first to +speak evil falsely of one to whom you owe everything. Oh! Lily, I +cannot tell you how that allusion of yours sounded.' + +'What allusion?' asked Lily in alarm, for she had never seen her +gentle brother so angry. + +'You know,' said he. + +'Indeed, I do not,' exclaimed Lily, munch frightened. 'Claude, +Claude, you must mistake, I never could have said anything so very +shocking.' + +'I hope I do,' said Claude; 'I could hardly believe that one of the +little ones who cannot remember him, could have referred to him in +that way--but for you!' + +'Him?' said Lilias. + +'I do not like to mention his name to one who regards him so +lightly,' said Claude. 'Think over what passed, if you are +sufficiently come to yourself to remember it.' + +After a little pause Lily said in a subdued voice, 'Claude, I hope +you do not believe that I was thinking of what really happened when I +said that.' + +'Pray what were you thinking of?' + +'The abstract view of Eleanor's character.' + +'Abstract nonsense!' said Claude. 'A fine demonstration of the rule +of love, to go about the world slandering your sister!' + +'To go about the world! Oh! Claude, it was only Robert, one of +ourselves, and Alethea, to whom I tell everything.' + +'So much the worse. I always rejoiced that you had no foolish young +lady friend to make missish confidences to.' + +'She is no foolish young lady friend,' said Lilias, indignant in her +turn; 'she is five years older than I am, and papa wishes us to be +intimate with her.' + +'Then the fault is in yourself,' said Claude. 'You ought not to have +told such things if they were true, and being utterly false--' + +'But, Claude, I cannot see that they are false.' + +'Not false, that Eleanor cared not a farthing for Harry!' cried +Claude, shaking off Lily's arm, and stopping short. + +'Oh!--she cared, she really did care,' said Lily, as fast as she +could speak. 'Oh! Claude, how could you think that? I told you I +did not mean what really happened, only that--Eleanor is cold--not as +warm as some people--she did care for him, of course she did--I know +that--I believe she loved him with all her heart--but yet--I mean she +did not--she went on as usual--said nothing--scarcely cried--looked +the same--taught us--never--Oh! it did not make half the difference +in her that it did in William.' + +'I cannot tell how she behaved at the time,' said Claude, 'I only +know I never had any idea what a loss Harry was till I came home and +saw her face. I used never to trouble myself to think whether people +looked ill or well, but the change in her did strike me. She was +bearing up to comfort papa, and to cheer William, and to do her duty +by all of us, and you could take such noble resignation for want of +feeling!' + +Lilias looked down and tried to speak, but she was choked by her +tears; she could not bear Claude's displeasure, and she wept in +silence. At last she said in a voice broken by sobs, 'I was unjust-- +I know Eleanor was all kindness--all self-sacrifice--I have been very +ungrateful--I wish I could help it--and you know well, Claude, how +far I am from regarding dear Harry with indifference--how the thought +of him is a star in my mind--how happy it makes me to think of him at +the end of the Church Militant Prayer; do not believe I was dreaming +of him.' + +'And pray,' said Claude, laughing in his own good-humoured way, +'which of us is it that she is so willing to lose?' + +'Oh! Claude, no such thing,' said Lily, 'you know what I meant, or +did not mean. It was nonsense--I hope nothing worse.' Lily felt +that she might take his arm again. There was a little silence, and +then Lily resumed in a timid voice, 'I do not know whether you will +be angry, Claude, but honestly, I do not think that if--that Eleanor +would be so wretched about you as I should.' + +'Eleanor knew Harry better than you did; no, Lily, I never could have +been what Harry was, even if I had never wasted my time, and if my +headaches had not interfered with my best efforts.' + +'I do not believe that, say what you will,' said Lily. + +'Ask William, then,' said Claude, sighing. + +'I am sure papa does not think so,' said Lily; 'no, I cannot feel +that Harry is such a loss when we still have you.' + +'Oh! Lily, it is plain that you never knew Harry,' said Claude. 'I +do not believe you ever did--that is one ting to be said for you.' + +'Not as you did,' said Lily; 'remember, he was six years older. Then +think how little we saw of him whilst they were abroad; he was always +at school, or spending the holidays with Aunt Robert, and latterly +even farther off, and only coming sometimes for an hour or two to see +us. Then he used to kiss us all round, we went into the garden with +him, looked at him, and were rather afraid of him; then he walked off +to Wat Greenwood, came back, wished us good-bye, and away he went.' + +'Yes,' said Claude, 'but after they came home?' + +'Then he was a tall youth, and we were silly girls,' said Lilias; 'he +avoided Miss Middleton, and we were always with her. He was good- +natured, but he could not get on with us; he did very well with the +little ones, but we were of the wrong age. He and William and +Eleanor were one faction, we were another, and you were between both- +-he was too old, too sublime, too good, too grave for us.' + +'Too grave!' said Claude; 'I never heard a laugh so full of glee, +except, perhaps, Phyllis's.' + +'The last time he was at home,' continued Lily, 'we began to know him +better; there was no Miss Middleton in the way, and after you and +William were gone, he used to walk with us, and read to us. He read +Guy Mannering to us, and told us the story of Sir Maurice de Mohun; +but the loss was not the same to us as to you elder ones; and then +sorrow was almost lost in admiration, and in pleasure at the terms in +which every one spoke of him. Claude, I have no difficulty in not +wishing it otherwise; he is still my brother, and I would not change +the feeling which the thought of his death gives me--no, not for +himself in life and health.' + +'Ah!' sighed Claude, 'you have no cause for self-reproach--no reason +to lament over "wasted hours and love misspent."' + +'You will always talk of your old indolence, as if it was a great +crime,' said Lily. + +'It was my chief temptation,' said Claude. 'As long as we know we +are out of the path of duty it does not make much difference whether +we have turned to the right hand or to the left.' + +'Was it Harry's death that made you look upon it in this light?' said +Lily. + +'I knew it well enough before,' said Claude, 'it was what he had +often set before me. Indeed, till I came home, and saw this place +without him, I never really knew what a loss he was. At Eton I did +not miss him more than when he went to Oxford, and I did not dwell on +what he was to papa, or what I ought to be; and even when I saw what +home was without him, I should have contented myself with miserable +excuses about my health, if it had not been for my confirmation; then +I awoke, I saw my duty, and the wretched way in which I had been +spending my time. Thoughts of Harry and of my father came +afterwards; I had not vigour enough for them before.' + +Here they reached the house, and parted--Claude, ashamed of having +talked of himself for the first time in his life, and Lily divided +between shame at her own folly and pleasure at Claude's having thus +opened his mind. + +Jane, who was most in fault, escaped censure. Her father was +ignorant of her improper speech. Emily forgot it, and it was not +Claude's place to reprove his sisters, though to Lily he spoke as a +friend. It passed away from her mind like other idle words, which, +however, could not but leave an impression on those who heard her. + +An unlooked-for result of the folly of this evening was, that Claude +was prevented from appreciating Miss Weston He could not learn to +like her, nor shake off an idea, that she was prying into their +family concerns; he thought her over-praised, and would not even give +just admiration to her singing, because he had once fancied her eager +to exhibit it. It was unreasonable to dislike his sister's friend +for his sister's folly, but Claude's wisdom was not yet arrived at +its full growth, and he deserved credit for keeping his opinion to +himself. + + + +CHAPTER IX--THE WASP + + + +'Whom He hath blessed and called His own, +He tries them early, look and tone, + Bent brow and throbbing heart, +Tries them with pain.' + +The next week Lily had the pleasure of fitting out Faith Longley for +her place at Mrs. Weston's. She rejoiced at this opportunity of +patronising her, because in her secret soul she felt that she might +have done her a little injustice in choosing her own favourite Esther +in her stead. Esther's popularity at the New Court, however, made +Lilias confident in her own judgment; the servants liked her because +she was quick and obliging, Mr. Mohun said she looked very neat, +Phyllis liked her because a mischance to her frock was not so brave +an offence with her as with Rachel, and Ada was growing very fond of +her, because she was in the habit of bestowing great admiration on +her golden curls as she arranged them, and both little girls were +glad not to be compelled to put away the playthings they took out. + +Maurice and Reginald had agreed to defer their onslaught on the wasps +till Lord Rotherwood's arrival, and the war was now limited to +attacks on foraging parties. Reginald most carefully marked every +nest about the garden and farm, and, on his cousin's arrival on +Saturday evening, began eagerly to give him a list of their +localities. Lord Rotherwood was as ardent in the cause as even +Reginald could desire, and would have instantly set out with him to +reconnoitre had not the evening been rainy. + +Then turning to Claude, he said, 'But I have not told you what +brought me here; I came to persuade you to make an expedition with me +up the Rhine; I set off next week; I would not write about it, +because I knew you would only say you should like it very much, but-- +some but, that meant it was a great deal too much trouble.' + +'How fast the plan has risen up,' said Claude, 'I heard nothing of it +when I was with you.' + +'Oh! it only came into my head last week, but I do not see what there +is to wait for, second thoughts are never best.' + +'Oh! Claude, how delightful,' said Lily. + +Claude stirred his tea meditatively, and did not speak. + +'It is too much trouble, I perceive,' said Lord Rotherwood; 'just as +I told you.' + +'Not exactly,' said Claude. + +Lord Rotherwood now detailed his plan to his uncle, who said with a +propitious smile, 'Well, Claude, what do you think of it? + +'Mind you catch a firefly for me,' said Maurice. + +'Why don't you answer, Claude?' said Lilias; 'only imagine seeing +Undine's Castle!' + +'Eh, Claude?' said his father. + +'It would be very pleasant,' said Claude, slowly, 'but--' + +'What?' said Mr. Mohun. + +'Only a but,' said the Marquis. 'I hope he will have disposed of it +by the morning; I start next Tuesday week; I would not go later for +the universe; we shall be just in time for the summer in its beauty, +and to have a peep at Switzerland. We shall not have time for Mont +Blanc, without rattling faster than any man in his senses would do. +I do not mean to leave any place till I have thoroughly seen twice +over everything worth seeing that it contains.' + +'Then perhaps you will get as far as Antwerp, and spend the rest of +the holidays between the Cathedral and Paul Potter's bull. No, I +shall have nothing to say to you at that rate,' said Claude. + +'Depend upon it, it will be you that will wish to stand still when I +had rather be on the move,' said the Marquis. + +'Then you had better leave me behind. I have no intention of being +hurried over the world, and never having my own way,' said Claude, +trying to look surly. + +'I am sure I should not mind travelling twice over the world to see +Cologne Cathedral, or the field of Waterloo,' said Lily. + +'Let me only show him my route,' said Lord Rotherwood. 'Redgie, look +in my greatcoat pocket in the hall for Murray's Handbook, will you?' + +'Go and get it, Phyl,' said Reginald, who was astride on the window- +sill, peeling a stick. + +Away darted Lord Rotherwood to fetch it himself, but Phyllis was +before him; her merry laugh was heard, as he chased her round the +hall to get possession of his book, throwing down two or three cloaks +to intercept her path. Mr. Mohun took the opportunity of his absence +to tell Claude that he need not refuse on the score of expense. + +'Thank you,' was all Claude's answer. + +Lord Rotherwood returned, and after punishing the discourteous +Reginald by raising him up by his ears, he proceeded to give a full +description of the delights of his expedition, the girls joining +heartily with him in declaring it as well arranged as possible, and +bringing all their knowledge of German travels to bear upon it. +Claude sometimes put in a word, but never as if he cared much about +the matter, and he was not to be persuaded to give any decided answer +as to whether he would accompany the Marquis. + +The next morning at breakfast Lord Rotherwood returned to the charge, +but Claude seemed even more inclined to refuse than the day before. +Lilias could not divine what was the matter with him, and lingered +long after her sisters had gone to school, to hear what answer he +would make; and when Mr. Mohun looked at his watch, and asked her if +she knew how late it was, she rose from the breakfast-table with a +sigh, and thought while she was putting on her bonnet how much less +agreeable the school had been since the schism in the parish. And +besides, now that Faith and Esther, and one or two others of her best +scholars, had gone away from school, there seemed to be no one of any +intelligence or knowledge left in the class, except Marianne Weston, +who knew too much for the others, and one or two clever inattentive +little girls: Lily almost disliked teaching them. + +Phyllis and Adeline were in Miss Weston's class, and much did they +delight in her teaching. There was a quiet earnestness in her manner +which attracted her pupils, and fixed their attention, so as scarcely +to allow the careless room for irreverence, while mere cleverness +seemed almost to lose its advantage in learning what can only truly +be entered into by those whose conduct agrees with their knowledge. + +Phyllis never dreamt that she could be happy while standing still and +learning, till Miss Weston began to teach at the Sunday school. +Obedience at school taught her to acquire habits of reverent +attention, which gradually conquered the idleness and weariness which +had once possessed her at church. First, she learnt to be interested +in the Historical Lessons, then never to lose her place in the +Psalms, then to think about and follow some of the Prayers; by this +time she was far from feeling any fatigue at all on week-days; she +had succeeded in restraining any contortions to relieve herself from +the irksomeness of sitting still, and had her thoughts in tolerable +order through the greater part of the Sunday service, and now it was +her great wish, unknown to any one, to abstain from a single yawn +through the whole service, including the sermon! + +Her place (chosen for her by Eleanor when first she had begun to go +to Church, as far as possible from Reginald) was at the end of the +seat, between her papa and the wall. This morning, as she put her +arm on the book-board, while rising from kneeling, she felt a sudden +thrill of sharp pain smear her left elbow, which made her start +violently, and would have caused a scream, had she not been in +church. She saw a wasp fall on the ground, and was just about to put +her foot on it, when she recollected where she was. She had never in +her life intentionally killed anything, and this was no time to begin +in that place, and when she was angry. The pain was severe--more so +perhaps than any she had felt before--and very much frightened, she +pulled her papa's coat to draw his attention. But her first pull was +so slight that he did not feel it, and before she gave a second she +remembered that she could not make him hear what was the matter, +without more noise than was proper. No, she must stay where she was, +and try to bear the pain, and she knew that if she did try, help +would be given her. She proceeded to find out the Psalm and join her +voice with the others, though her heart was beating very fast, her +forehead was contracted, and she could not help keeping her right +hand clasped round her arm, and sometimes shifting from one foot to +the other. The sharpness of the pain soon went off; she was able to +attend to the Lessons, and hoped it would soon be quite well; but as +soon as she began to think about it, it began to ache and throb, and +seemed each moment to be growing hotter. The sermon especially tried +her patience, her cheeks were burning, she felt sick and hardly able +to hold up her head, yet she would not lean it against the wall, +because she had often been told not to do so. She was exceedingly +alarmed to find that her arm had swelled so much that she could +hardly bend it, and it had received the impression of the gathers of +her sleeve; she thought no sermon had ever been so long, but she sat +quite still and upright, as she could not have done, had she not +trained herself unconsciously by her efforts to leave off the trick +of kicking her heels together. She did not speak till she was in the +churchyard, and then she made Emily look at her arm. + +'My poor child, it is frightful,' said Emily, 'what is the matter?' + +'A wasp stung me just before the Psalms,' said Phyllis, 'and it goes +on swelling and swelling, and it does pant!' + +'What is the matter?' asked Mr. Mohun. + +'Papa, just look,' said Emily, 'a wasp stung this dear child quite +early in the service, and she has been bearing it all this time in +silence. Why did you not show me, Phyl?' + +'Because it was in church,' said the little girl. + +'Why, Phyllis, you are a very Spartan,' said Lord Rotherwood. + +'Something better than a Spartan,' said Mr. Mohun. 'Does it give you +much pain now, my dear?' + +'Not so bad as in church,' said Phyllis, 'only I am very tired, and +it is so hot.' + +'We will help you home, then,' said Mr. Mohun. As he took her up in +his arms, Phyllis laughed, thanked him, replied to various inquiries +from her sisters and the Westons--laughed again at sundry jokes from +her brothers, then became silent, and was almost asleep, with her +head on her papa's shoulder, by the time they reached the hall-door. +She thought it very strange to be laid down on the sofa in the +drawing-room, and to find every one attending to her. Mrs. Weston +bathed her forehead with lavender-water, and Lily cut open the sleeve +of her frock; Jane fetched all manner of remedies, and Emily pitied +her. She was rather frightened: she thought such a fuss would not +be made about her unless she was very ill; she was faint and tired, +and was glad when Mrs. Weston proposed that they should all come +away, and leave her to go to sleep quietly. + +Marianne was so absorbed in admiration of Phyllis that she did not +speak one word all the way from church to the New Court, and stood in +silence watching the operations upon her friend, till Mrs. Weston +sent every one away. + +Adeline rather envied Phyllis; she would willingly have endured the +pain to be made of so much importance, and said to be better than a +Spartan, which must doubtless be something very fine indeed! + +Phyllis was waked by the bells ringing for the afternoon service; +Mrs. Weston was sitting by her, reading, Claude came to inquire for +her, and to tell her that as she had lost her early dinner, she was +to join the rest of the party at six. To her great surprise she felt +quite well and fresh, and her arm was much better; Mrs. Weston pinned +up her sleeve, and she set off with her to church, wondering whether +Ada would remember to tell her what she had missed that afternoon at +school. Those whose approbation was valuable, honoured Phyllis for +her conduct, but she did not perceive it, or seek for it; she did not +look like a heroine while running about and playing with Reginald and +the dogs in the evening, but her papa had told her she was a good +child, Claude had given her one of his kindest smiles, and she was +happy. Even when Esther was looking at the mark left by the sting, +and telling her that she was sure Miss Marianne Weston would have not +been half so good, her simple, humble spirit came to her aid, and she +answered, 'I'll tell you what, Esther, Marianne would have behaved +much better, for she is older, and never fidgets, and she would not +have been angry like me, and just going to kill the wasp.' + + + +CHAPTER X--COUSIN ROTHERWOOD + + + +'We care not who says + And intends it dispraise, +That an Angler to a fool is next neighbour.' + +In the evening Lord Rotherwood renewed his entreaties to Claude to +join him on his travels. He was very much bent on taking him, for +his own pleasure depended not a little on his cousin's company. +Claude lay on the glassy slope of the terrace, while Lord Rotherwood +paced rapidly up and down before him, persuading him with all the +allurements he could think of, and looking the picture of impatience. +Lily sat by, adding her weight to all his arguments. But Claude was +almost contemptuous to all the beauties of Germany, and all the +promised sights; he scarcely gave himself the trouble to answer his +tormentors, only vouchsafing sometimes to open his lips to say that +he never meant to go to a country where people spoke a language that +sounded like cracking walnuts; that he hated steamers; had no fancy +for tumble-down castles; that it was so common to travel; there was +more distinction in staying at home; that the field of Waterloo had +been spoilt, and was not worth seeing; his ideas of glaciers would be +ruined by the reality; and he did not care to see Cologne Cathedral +till it was finished. + +On this Lily set up an outcry of horror. + +'One comfort is, Lily,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'he does not mean it; +he did not say it from the bottom of his heart. Now, confess you did +not, Claude.' + +Claude pretended to be asleep. + +'I see plainly enough,' said the Marquis to Lily, 'it is as Wat +Greenwood says, "Mr. Reynold and the grapes."' + +'But it is not,' said Lily, 'and that is what provokes me; papa says +he is quite welcome to go if he likes, and that he thinks it will do +him a great deal of good, but that foolish boy will say nothing but +"I will think about it," and "thank you"' + +'Then I give him up as regularly dense.' + +'It is the most delightful plan ever thought of,' said Lily, 'so +easily done, and just bringing within his compass all he ever wished +to see.' + +'Oh! his sole ambition is to stretch those long legs of his on the +grass, like a great vegetable marrow,' said Lord Rotherwood. 'It is +vegetating like a plant that makes him so much taller than any +rational creature with a little animal life.' + +'I think Jane has his share of curiosity,' said Lily, 'I am sure I +had no idea that anything belonging to us could be so stupid.' + +'Well,' said the Marquis, 'I shall not go.' + +'No?' said Lily. + +'No, I shall certainly not go.' + +'Nonsense,' said Claude, waking from his pretended sleep, 'why do you +not ask Travers to go with you? He would like nothing better.' + +'He is a botanist, and would bore me with looking for weeds. No, I +will have you, or stay at home.' + +Claude proposed several others as companions, but Lord Rotherwood +treated them all with as much disdain as Claude had shown for +Germany, and ended with 'Now, Claude, you know my determination, only +tell me why you will not go?' + +'Then I do tell you, Rotherwood, the truth is, that those boys, +Maurice and Reginald, are perfectly unmanageable when they are left +alone with the girls.' + +'Have a tutor for them,' said the Marquis. + +'Very much obliged to you they would be for the suggestion,' said +Claude. + +'Oh! but Claude,' said Lily. + +'I really cannot go. They mind no one but the Baron and me, and +besides that, it would be no small annoyance to the house; ten tutors +could not keep them from indescribable bits of mischief. I undertook +them these holidays, and I mean to keep them.' + +Lilias was just flying off to her father, when Claude caught hold of +her, saying, 'I desire you will not,' and she stood still, looking at +her cousin in dismay. + +'It is all right,' cried the Marquis, joyfully, 'it is only to set +off three weeks later.' + +'Oh! I thought you would not go a week later for the universe,' said +Claude, smiling. + +'Not for the Universe, but for U-,' said Lord Rotherwood. + +'Worthy of a companion true, of the University of Gottingen,' said +Claude; 'but, Rotherwood, do you really mean that it will make no +difference to you?' + +'None whatever; I meant to spend three weeks with my mother at the +end of the tour, and I shall spend them now instead. I only talked +of going immediately, because nothing is done at all that is not done +quickly, and I hate delays, but it is all the same, and now it stands +for Tuesday three weeks. Now we shall see what he says to Cologne, +Lily.' + +Claude sprung up, and began talking over arrangements and +possibilities with zest, which showed what his wishes had been from +the first. All was quickly settled, and as soon as his father had +given his cordial approbation to the scheme, it was amusing to see +how animated and active Claude became, and in how different a style +he talked of the once slighted Rhine. + +Lord Rotherwood told the boys that their brother was a great deal too +good for them, but they never troubled themselves to ask in what +respect; Lilias took very great delight in telling Emily of the +sacrifice which he had been willing to make, and looked forward to +talking it over with Alethea, but she refrained, as long as he was at +home, as she knew it would greatly displease him, and she had heard +enough about missish confidences. + +The Marquis of Rotherwood was certainly the very reverse of his +chosen travelling companion, in the matter of activity. He made an +appointment with the two boys to get up at half-past four on Monday +morning for some fishing, before the sun was too high--Maurice not +caring for the sport, but intending to make prize of any of the +'insect youth' which might prefer the sunrise for their gambols; and +Reginald, in high delight at the prospect of real fishing, something +beyond his own performances with a stick and a string, in pursuit of +minnows in the ditches. Reginald was making contrivances for tying a +string round his wrist and hanging the end of it from the window, +that Andrew Grey might give it a pull as he went by to his work, to +wake him, when Lord Rotherwood exclaimed, 'What! cannot you wake +yourself at any time you please?' + +'No,' said Reginald, 'I never heard of any one that could.' + +'Then I advise you to learn the art; in the meantime I will call you +to-morrow.' + +Loud voices and laughter in the hall, and the front door creaking on +its hinges at sunrise, convinced the household that this was no vain +boast; before breakfast was quite over the fishermen were seen +approaching the house. Lord Rotherwood was an extraordinary figure, +in an old shooting jacket of his uncle's, an enormous pair of +fishing-boots of William's, and the broad-brimmed straw hat, which +always hung up in the hall, and was not claimed by any particular +owner. + +Maurice displayed to Jane the contents of two phials, strange little +creatures, with stranger names, of which he was as proud as Reginald +of his three fine trout. Lord Rotherwood did not appear till he had +made himself look like other people, which he did in a surprisingly +short time. He began estimating the weight of the fish, and talking +at his most rapid rate, till at last Claude said, 'Phyllis told us +just now that you were coming back, for that she heard Cousin +Rotherwood talking, and it proved to be Jane's old turkey cock +gobbling.' + +'No bad compliment,' said Emily, 'for Phyllis was once known to say, +on hearing a turkey cock, "How melodiously that nightingale sings."' + +'No, no! that was Ada,' said Lilias. + +'I could answer for that,' said Claude. 'Phyllis is too familiar +with both parties to mistake their notes. Besides, she never was +known to use such a word as melodiously.' + +'Do you remember,' said the Marquis, 'that there was some great +lawyer who had three kinds of handwriting, one that the public could +read, one that only his clerk could read, and one that nobody could +read?' + +'I suppose I am the clerk,' said Claude, 'unless I divide the honour +with Florence.' + +'I do not think I am unintelligible anywhere but here,' said Lord +Rotherwood. 'There is nothing sufficiently exciting at home, if +Grosvenor Square is to be called home.' + +'Sometimes you do it without knowing it,' said Lily. + +'Yes,' said Claude, 'when you do not exactly know what you are going +to say.' + +'Then it is no bad plan,' said Lord Rotherwood. 'People are +satisfied, and you don't commit yourself.' + +'I'll tell you what, Cousin Rotherwood,' exclaimed Phyllis, 'your +hand is bleeding.' + +'Is it? Thank you, Phyllis, I thought I had washed it off: now do +find me some sealing-wax--India-rub her--sticking-plaster, I mean.' + +'Oh! Rotherwood,' said Emily, 'what a bad cut, how did it happen?' + +'Only, I am the victim to Maurice's first essay in fishing.' + +'Just fancy what an awkward fellow Maurice is,' said Reginald, 'he +had but one throw, and he managed to stick the hook into Rotherwood's +hand.' + +'One of those barbed hooks? Oh! Rotherwood, how horrid!' said Emily. + +'And he cut it out with his knife, and caught that great trout with +it directly,' said Reginald. + +'And neither half drowned Maurice, nor sent him home again?' asked +Lily. + +'I contented myself with taking away his weapon,' said the Marquis; +'and he wished for nothing better than to poke about in the gutters +for insects; it was only Redgie that teased him into the nobler +sport.' + +Emily was inclined to make a serious matter of the accident, but her +cousin said ten words while she said one, and by the time her first +sentence was uttered, she found him talking about his ride to +Devereux Castle. + +He and Claude set out as soon as breakfast was over, and came back +about three o'clock; Claude was tired with the heat, and betook +himself to the sofa, where he fell asleep, under pretence of reading, +but the indefatigable Marquis was ready and willing to set out with +Reginald and Wat Greenwood to shoot rabbits. + +Dinner-time came, and Emily sat at the drawing-room window with +Claude and Lilias, lamenting her cousin's bad habits. 'Nothing will +ever make him punctual,' said she. + +'I am in duty bound to let you say nothing against him,' said Claude. + +'It is very good-natured in him to wait for you,' said Lily, 'but it +would be horribly selfish to leave you behind.' + +'Delay is his great horror,' said Claude, 'and the wonder of his +character is, that he is not selfish. No one had ever better +training for it.' + +'He does like his own way very much,' said Lilias. + +'Who does not?' said Claude. + +'Nothing shows his sense so much,' said Emily, 'as his great +attachment to papa--the only person who ever controlled him.' + +'And to Claude--his opposite in everything,' said Lilias. + +'I think he will tire you to death in Germany,' said Emily. + +'Never fear,' said Claude, 'my vis inertiae is enough to +counterbalance any amount of restlessness.' + +'Here they come,' said Lily; 'how Wat Greenwood is grinning at +Rotherwood's jokes!' + +'A happy day for Wat,' said Emily. 'He will be quite dejected if +William is not at home next shooting season. He thinks you a +degenerate Mohun, Claude.' + +'He must comfort himself with Redgie,' said Claude. + +'Rotherwood is only eager about shooting in common with everything +else,' said Lily, 'but Redgie, I fear, will care for nothing else.' + +Lord Rotherwood came in, accounting for being late, as, in passing +through a harvest field, he could not help attempting to reap. The +Beechcroft farming operations had been his especial amusement from +very early days, and his plans were numerous for farming on a grand +scale as soon as he should be of age. His talk during dinner was of +turnips and wheat, till at length Mr. Mohun asked him what he thought +of the appearance of the castle. He said it was very forlorn; the +rooms looked so dreary and deserted that he could not bear to be in +them, and had been out of doors almost all the time. Indeed, he was +afraid he had disappointed the housekeeper by not complimenting her +as she deserved, for the freezing dismal order in which she kept +everything. 'And really,' said he, 'I must go again to-morrow and +make up for it, and Emily, you must come with me and try to devise +something to make the unhappy place less like the abode of the Prince +of the Black Islands.' + +Emily willingly promised to go, and she went on talking to him, and +telling him whom he was to meet on the next day, when an unusual +silence making her look up, she beheld him more than half asleep. + +Reginald fidgeted and sighed, and Maurice grew graver and graver as +they thought of the wasps. Maurice wanted to take a nest entire, and +began explaining his plan to Claude. + +'You see, Claude, burning some straw and then digging, spoils the +combs, as Wat does it; now I have got some puff-balls and sulphur to +put into the hole, and set fire to them with a lucifer match, so as +to stifle the wasps, and then dig them out quietly to-morrow +morning.' + +'It is all of no use, if that Rotherwood will do nothing but sleep,' +said Reginald, in a disconsolate tone. + +'You should not have made him get up at four,' said Emily. + +'Who! I?' exclaimed the Marquis. 'I never was wider awake. What +are you waiting for, Reginald? I thought you were going to take +wasps' nests.' + +'You are much too tired, I am sure,' said Emily. + +'Tired! not in the least, I have done nothing to-day to tire me,' +said Lord Rotherwood, walking up and down the room to keep himself +awake. + +The whole party went out, and found Wat Greenwood waiting for them +with a bundle of straw, a spade, and a little gunpowder. Maurice +carried a basket containing all his preparations, on which Wat looked +with supreme contempt, telling him that his puffs were too green to +make a smeech. Maurice, not condescending to argue the point, ran on +to a nest which Reginald had marked on one of the green banks of the +ancient moat. + +'Take care that the wasps are all come in; mind what you are about, +Maurice,' called his father. + +'Master Maurice,' shouted Wat, 'you had better take a green bough.' + +'Never mind, Wat,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'he would not stay long +enough to use it if he had it.' + +Reginald ran after Maurice, who had just reached the nest. + +'There is one coming in, the evening is so warm they are not quiet +yet.' + +'I'll quiet them,' said Maurice, kneeling down, and putting his first +puff-ball into the hole. + +Reginald stood by with a sly smile, as he pulled a branch off a +neighbouring filbert-tree. The next moment Maurice gave a sudden +yell, 'The wasps! the wasps!' and jumping up, and tripping at his +first step, rolled down the bank, and landed safely at Lord +Rotherwood's feet. The shouts of laughter were loud, but he regarded +them not, and as soon as he recovered his feet, rushed past his +sisters, and never stopped till he reached the house. Redgie stood +alone, in the midst of a cloud of wasps, beating them off with a +bough, roaring with laughter, and calling Wat to bring the straw to +burn them. + +'No, no, Redgie, come away, leave them for Maurice to try again,' +said his father. + +'The brute, he stung me,' cried Reginald, knocking down a wasp or two +as he came down. 'What is this?' added he, as he stumbled over +something at the bottom of the slope. 'Oh! Maurice's basket; look +here--laudanum--did he mean to poison the wasps?' + +'No,' said Jane, 'to cure their stings.' + +'The poor unhappy quiz!' cried Reginald. + +While the others were busy over a nest, Mr. Mohun asked Emily how the +boy got at the medicine chest. Emily looked confused, and said she +supposed Jane had given him a bottle. + +'Jane is too young to be trusted there,' said Mr. Mohun, 'I thought +you knew better; do not let the key be out of your possession again.' + +After a few more nests had been taken in the usual manner, they +returned to the house. Maurice was lying on the sofa reading the +Penny Magazine, from which he raised his eyes no more that evening, +in spite of all the jokes which flew about respecting wounded +knights, courage, and the balsam of Fierabras. He called Jane to +teach her how flies were made, and as soon as tea was over he went to +bed. Reginald, after many yawns, prepared to follow his example, and +as he was wishing his sisters good-night, Emily said, 'Now, Redgie, +do not go out at such a preposterous hour to-morrow morning.' + +'What is that to you?' was Reginald's courteous inquiry. + +'I do not wish to see every one fast asleep to-morrow evening,' said +Emily, and she looked at her cousin, whose head was far back over his +chair. + +'He is a Trojan,' said Reginald. + +'Is a Trojan better than a Spartan?' asked Ada, meditatively. + +'Helen thought so,' said Claude. + +'"When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war,"' muttered the +Marquis. + +'You are all talking Greek,' said Jane. + +'Arabic,' said Claude. + +As far as it could be comprehended, Lord Rotherwood's answer related +to Maurice and the wasps. + +'There,' said Emily, 'what is to be done if he is in that condition +to-morrow?' + +'I am not asleep; what makes you think I am?' + +'I wish you would sit in that great chair,' said Emily, 'I am afraid +you will break your neck; you look so uncomfortable, I cannot bear to +see you.' + +'I never was more comfortable in my life,' said Lord Rotherwood, +asleep while finishing the sentence; but this time, happily with his +elbows on the table, and his head in a safer position. + +The next day was spent rather more rationally. Lord Rotherwood met +with a book of Irish Tales, with which he became so engrossed that he +did not like to leave it when Emily and Claude were ready to ride to +Devereux Castle with him. When there he was equally eager and +vehement about each matter that came under consideration, and so many +presented themselves, that Emily began to be in agonies lest she +should not be at home in time to dress and receive her guests. They +did, however, reach the house before Lilias, who had been walking +with Miss Weston, came in, and when she went upstairs, she found +Emily full of complaints at the inconvenience of having no Rachel to +assist her in dressing, and to see that everything was in order, and +that Phyllis was fit to appear when she came down in the evening; +but, by the assistance of Lily and Jane, she got over her troubles, +and when she went into the drawing-room, she was much relieved to +find her two gentlemen quite safe and dressed. She had been in great +fear of Lord Rotherwood's straying away to join in some of Reginald's +sports, and was grateful to the Irish book for keeping him out of +mischief. + +Emily was in her glory; it was the first large dinner-party since +Eleanor had gone, and though she pitied herself for having the +trouble of entertaining the people, she really enjoyed the feeling +that she now appeared as the mistress of New Court, with her cousin, +the Marquis, by her side, to show how highly she was connected. And +everything went off just as could be wished. Lord Rotherwood talked +intelligibly and sensibly, and Mr. Mohun's neighbour at dinner had a +voice which he could hear. Lily's pleasure was not less than her +sister's, though of a different kind. She delighted in thinking how +well Emily did the honours, in watching the varied expression of Lord +Rotherwood's animated countenance, in imagining Claude's forehead to +be finer than that of any one else, and in thinking how people must +admire Reginald's tall, active figure, and very handsome face. She +was asked to play, and did tolerably well, but was too shy to sing, +nor, indeed, was Reginald encouraging. 'What is the use of your +singing, Lily? If it was like Miss Weston's, now--' + +Reginald had taken a great fancy to Miss Weston; he stood by her all +the evening, and afterwards let her talk to him, and then began to +chatter himself, at last becoming so confidential as to impart to her +the grand object of his ambition, which was to be taller than Claude! + +The next morning Lord Rotherwood left Beechcroft, somewhat to Emily's +relief; for though she was very proud of him, and much enjoyed the +dignity of being seen to talk familiarly with him, yet, when no +strangers were present, and he became no more than an ordinary +cousin, she was worried by his incessant activity, and desire to see, +know, and do everything as fast and as thoroughly as possible. She +could not see the use of such vehemence; she liked to take things in +a moderate way, and as Claude said, much preferred the passive to the +active voice. Claude, on the contrary, was ashamed of his +constitutional indolence, looked on it as a temptation, and struggled +against it, almost envying his cousin his unabated eagerness and +untiring energy, and liking to be with him, because no one else so +effectually roused him from his habitual languor. His indolence was, +however, so much the effect of ill health, that exertion was +sometimes scarcely in his power, especially in hot weather, and by +the time his brothers' studies were finished each day, he was unfit +for anything but to lie on the grass under the plane-tree. + +The days glided on, and the holidays came to an end; Maurice spent +them in adding to his collection of insects, which, with Jane's +assistance, he arranged very neatly; and Reginald and Phyllis +performed several exploits, more agreeable to themselves than +satisfactory to the more rational part of the New Court community. +At the same time, Reginald's devotion to Miss Weston increased; he +never moved from her side when she sang, did not fail to be of the +party when she walked with his sisters, offered her one of his own +puppies, named his little ship 'Alethea,' and was even tolerably +civil to Marianne. + +At length the day of departure came; the boys returned to school, +Claude joined Lord Rotherwood, and the New Court was again in a state +of tranquillity. + + + +CHAPTER XI--DANCING + + + +'Prescribe us not our duties.' + +'Well, Phyllis,' said her father, as he passed through the hall to +mount his horse, 'how do you like the prospect of Monsieur le Roi's +instructions?' + +'Not at all, papa,' answered Phyllis, running out to the hall door to +pat the horse, and give it a piece of bread. + +'Take care you turn out your toes,' said Mr. Mohun. 'You must learn +to dance like a dragon before Cousin Rotherwood's birthday next +year.' + +'Papa, how do dragons dance?' + +'That is a question I must decide at my leisure,' said Mr. Mohun, +mounting. 'Stand out of the way, Phyl, or you will feel how horses +dance.' + +Away he rode, while Phyllis turned with unwilling steps to the +nursery, to be dressed for her first dancing lesson; Marianne Weston +was to learn with her, and this was some consolation, but Phyllis +could not share in the satisfaction Adeline felt in the arrival of +Monsieur le Roi. Jane was also a pupil, but Lily, whose +recollections of her own dancing days were not agreeable, absented +herself entirely from the dancing-room, even though Alethea Weston +had come with her sister. + +Poor Phyllis danced as awkwardly as was expected, but Adeline seemed +likely to be a pupil in whom a master might rejoice; Marianne was +very attentive and not ungraceful, but Alethea soon saw reason to +regret the arrangement that had been made, for she perceived that +Jane considered the master a fair subject for derision, and her 'nods +and becks, and wreathed smiles,' called up corresponding looks in +Marianne's face. + +'Oh Brownie, you are a naughty thing!' said Emily, as soon as M. le +Roi had departed. + +'He really was irresistible!' said Jane. + +'I suppose ridicule is one of the disagreeables to which a dancing- +master makes up his mind,' said Alethea. + +'Yes,' said Jane, 'one can have no compunction in quizzing that +species.' + +'I do not think I can quite say that, Jane,' said Miss Weston. + +'This man especially lays himself open to ridicule,' said Jane; 'do +you know, Alethea, that he is an Englishman, and his name is King, +only he calls himself Le Roi, and speaks broken English!' + +Though Alethea joined in the general laugh, she did not feel quite +satisfied; she feared that if not checked in time, Jane would proceed +to actual impertinence, and that Marianne would be tempted to follow +her example, but she did not like to interfere, and only advised +Marianne to be on her guard, hoping that Emily would also speak +seriously to her sister. + +On the next occasion, however, Jane ventured still farther; her +grimaces were almost irresistible, and she had a most comical manner +of imitating the master's attitudes when his eye was not upon her, +and putting on a demure countenance when he turned towards her, which +sorely tried Marianne. + +'What shall I do, Alethea?' said the little girl, as the sisters +walked home together; 'I do not know how to help laughing, if Jane +will be so very funny.' + +'I am afraid we must ask mamma to let us give up the dancing,' +replied Alethea; 'the temptation is almost too strong, and I do not +think she would wish to expose you to it.' + +'But, Alethea, why do not you speak to Jane?' asked Marianne; 'no one +seems to tell her it is wrong; Miss Mohun was almost laughing.' + +'I do not think Jane would consider that I ought to find fault with +her,' said Alethea. + +'But you would not scold her,' urged Marianne; 'only put her in mind +that it is not right, not kind; that Monsieur le Roi is in authority +over her for the time.' + +'I will speak to mamma,' said Alethea, 'perhaps it will be better +next time.' + +And it was better, for Mr. Mohun happening to be at home, was dragged +into the dancing-room by Emily and Ada. Once, when she thought he +was looking another way, Jane tried to raise a smile, but a stern +'Jane, what are you thinking of?' recalled her to order, and when the +lesson was over her father spoke gravely to her, telling her that he +thought few things more disgusting in a young lady than impertinence +towards her teachers; and then added, 'Miss Weston, I hope you keep +strict watch over these giddy young things.' + +Awed by her father, Jane behaved tolerably well at that time and the +next, and Miss Weston hoped her interference would not be needed, but +as if to make up for this restraint, her conduct a fortnight after +was quite beyond bearing. She used every means to make Marianne +laugh, and at last went so far as to pretend to think that M. le Roi +had not understood what she said in English, and to translate it into +French. Poor Marianne looked imploringly at her sister, and Alethea +hoped that Emily would interpose, but Emily was turning away her head +to conceal a laugh, and Miss Weston was obliged to give Jane a very +grave look, which she perfectly understood, though she pretended not +to see it. When the exercise was over Miss Weston made her a sign to +approach, and said, 'Jane, do you think your papa would have liked--' + +'What do you mean?' said Jane, 'I have not been laughing.' + +'You know what I mean,' said Alethea, 'and pray do not be displeased +if I ask you not to make it difficult for Marianne to behave +properly.' + +Jane drew up her head and went back to her place. She played no more +tricks that day, but as soon as the guests were gone, began telling +Lilias how Miss Weston had been meddling and scolding her. + +'And well you must have deserved it,' said Lily. + +'I do not say that Jenny was right,' said Emily, 'but I think Miss +Weston might allow me to correct my own sister in my own house.' + +'You correct Jane!' cried Lily, and Jane laughed. + +'I only mean,' said Emily, 'that it was not very polite, and papa +says the closest friendship is no reason for dispensing with the +rules of politeness.' + +'Certainly not,' said Lily, 'the rules of politeness are rules of +love, and it was in love that Alethea spoke; she sees how sadly we +are left to ourselves, and is kind enough to speak a word in season.' + +'Perhaps,' said Jane, 'since it was in love that she spoke, you would +like to have her for our reprover for ever, and I can assure you more +unlikely things have happened. I have heard it from one who can +judge.' + +'Let me hear no more of this,' said Emily, 'it is preposterous and +ridiculous, and very disrespectful to papa.' + +Jane for once, rather shocked at her own words, went back to what had +been said just before. + +'Then, perhaps, you would like to have Eleanor back again?' + +'I am sure you want some one to put you in mind of your duty,' said +Lily. + +'Eleanor and duty!' cried Emily; 'you who thought so much of the +power of love!' + +'Of Emily and love, she would say, if it sounded well,' said Jane. + +'I cannot see what true love you or Jane are showing now,' said Lily, +'it is no kindness to encourage her pertness, or to throw away a +friendly reproof because it offends your pride.' + +'Nobody reproved me,' replied Emily; 'besides, I know love will +prevail; for my sake Jane will not expose herself and me to a +stranger's interference.' + +'If you depend upon that, I wish you joy,' said Lilias, as she left +the room. + +'What a weathercock Lily is!' cried Jane, 'she has fallen in love +with Alethea Weston, and echoes all she says.' + +'Not considering her own inconsistency,' said Emily. + +'That Alethea Weston,' exclaimed Jane, in an angry tone;--but Emily, +beginning to recover some sense of propriety, said, 'Jenny, you know +you were very ill-bred, and you made it difficult for the little ones +to behave well.' + +'Not our own little ones,' said Jane; 'honest Phyl did not understand +the joke, and Ada was thinking of her attitudes; one comfort is, that +I shall be confirmed in three weeks' time, and then people cannot +treat me as a mere child--little as I am.' + +'Oh! Jane,' said Emily, 'I do not like to hear you talk of +confirmation in that light way.' + +'No, no,' said Jane, 'I do not mean it--of course I do not mean it-- +don't look shocked--it was only by the bye--and another by the bye, +Emily, you know I must have a cap and white ribbons, and I am afraid +I must make it myself.' + +'Ay, that is the worst of having Esther,' said Emily, 'she and Hannah +have no notion of anything but the plainest work; I am sure if I had +thought of all the trouble of that kind which having a young girl +would entail, I would never have consented to Esther's coming.' + +'That was entirely Lily's scheme,' said Jane. + +'Yes; it is impossible to resist Lily, she is so eager and anxious, +and it would have vexed her very much if I had opposed her, and that +I cannot bear; besides, Esther is a very nice girl, and will learn.' + +'There is Robert talking to papa on the green,' said Jane; 'what a +deep conference; what can it be about?' + +If Jane had heard that conversation she might have perceived that she +could not wilfully offend, even in what she thought a trifling +matter, without making it evident, even to others, that there was +something very wrong about her. At that moment the Rector was saying +to his uncle, 'I am in doubt about Jane, I cannot but fear she is not +in a satisfactory state for confirmation, and I wished to ask you +what you think?' + +'Act just as you would with any of the village girls,' said Mr. +Mohun. + +'I should be very sorry to do otherwise,' said Mr. Devereux; 'but I +thought you might like, since every one knows that she is a +candidate, that she should not be at home at the time of the +confirmation, if it is necessary to refuse her.' + +'No,' said Mr. Mohun, 'I should not wish to shield her from the +disgrace. It may be useful to her, and besides, it will establish +your character for impartiality. I have not been satisfied with all +I saw of little Jane for some time past, and I am afraid that much +passes amongst my poor girls which never comes to my knowledge. Her +pertness especially is probably restrained in my presence.' + +'It is not so much the pertness that I complain of,' said Mr. +Devereux, 'for that might be merely exuberance of spirits, but there +is a sort of habitual irreverence, which makes one dread to bring her +nearer to sacred tings.' + +'I know what you mean,' said Mr. Mohun, 'and I think the pertness is +a branch of it, more noticed because more inconvenient to others.' + +'Yes,' said Mr. Devereux, 'I think the fault I speak of is most +evident; when there is occasion to reprove her, I am always baffled +by a kind of levity which makes every warning glance aside.' + +'Then I should decidedly say refuse her,' said Mr. Mohun. 'It would +be a warning that she could not disregard, and the best chance of +improving her.' + +'Yet,' said Mr. Devereux, 'if she is eager for confirmation, and +regards it in its proper light, it is hard to say whether it is right +to deny it to her; it may give her the depth and earnestness which +she needs.' + +'Poor child,' said Mr. Mohun, 'she has great disadvantages; I am +quite sure our present system is not fit for her. Things shall be +placed on a different footing, and in another year or two I hope she +may be fitter for confirmation. However, before you finally decide, +I should wish to have some conversation with her, and speak to you +again. + +'That is just what I wish,' said Mr. Devereux. + + + +CHAPTER XII--THE FEVER + + + +'Jane borrowed maxims from a doubting school, +And took for truth the test of ridicule.' + +The question of Jane's confirmation was decided in an unexpected +manner; for the day after Mr. Mohun's conversation with his nephew +she was attacked by a headache and sore throat, spent a feverish +night, and in the morning was so unwell that a medical man was sent +for from Raynham. On his arrival he pronounced that she was +suffering from scarlet fever, and Emily began to feel the approach of +the same complaint. + +Phyllis and Adeline were shut up in the drawing-room, and a system of +quarantine established, which was happily brought to a conclusion by +a note from Mrs. Weston, who kindly begged that they might be sent to +her at Broomhill, and Mr. Mohun gladly availing himself of the offer, +the little girls set off, so well pleased to make a visit alone, as +almost to forget the occasion of it. Mrs. Weston had extended her +invitation to Lilias, but she begged to be allowed to remain with her +sisters, and Mr. Mohun thought that she had been already so much +exposed to the infection that it was useless for her to take any +precautions. + +She was therefore declared head nurse; and it was well that she had +an energetic spirit, and so sweet a temper, that she was ready to +sympathise with all Emily's petulant complaints, and even to find +fault with herself for not being in two places at once. Two of the +maids were ill, and the whole care of Emily and Jane devolved upon +her, with only the assistance of Esther. + +Emily was not very seriously ill, but Jane's fever was very high, and +Lily thought that her father was more anxious than he chose to +appear. Of Jane's own thoughts little could be guessed; she was +often delirious, and at all times speaking was so painful that she +said as little as possible. + +Lily's troubles seemed at their height one Sunday afternoon, while +her father was at church. She had been reading the Psalms and +Lessons to Emily, and she then rose to return to Jane. + +'Do not go,' entreated Emily. + +'I will send Esther.' + +'Esther is of no use.' + +'And therefore I do not like to leave her so long alone with Jane. +Pray spare me a little smile.' + +'Then come back soon.' + +Lily was glad to escape with no more objections. She found Jane +complaining of thirst, but to swallow gave her great pain, and she +required so much attendance for some little time, that Emily's bell +was twice rung before Esther could be spared to go to her. + +She soon came back, saying, 'Miss Mohun wants you directly, Miss +Lilias.' + +'Tell her I will come presently,' said Lily, who had one hand pressed +on Jane's burning temples, while the other was sprinkling her with +ether. + +'Stay,' said Jane, faintly, and Esther left the room. + +Jane drew her breath with so much difficulty that a dreadful terror +seized upon Lily, lest she should be suffocated. She raised her +head, and supported her till Esther could bring more pillows. Esther +brought a message from Emily to hasten her return; but Jane could not +be left, and the grateful look she gave her as she arranged the +pillows repaid her for all her toils. After a little time Jane +became more comfortable, and said in a whisper, 'Dear Lily, I wish I +was not so troublesome.' + +Back came Esther at this moment, saying, 'Miss Emily says she is +worse, and wants you directly, Miss Lilias.' + +Lily hurried away to Emily's room, and found what might well have +tried her temper. Emily was flushed indeed, and feverish, but her +breathing was smooth and even, and her hand and pulse cool and slow, +compared with the parched burning hands, and throbbings, too quick to +count, which Lily had just been watching. + +'Well, my dear Emily, I am sorry you do not feel better; what can I +do for you?' + +'How can I be better while I am left so long, and Esther not coming +when I ring? What would happen if I were to faint away?' + +'Indeed, I am very sorry,' said Lily; 'but when you rang, poor Jenny +could spare neither of us.' + +'How is poor Jenny?' said Emily. + +'Her throat is very bad, but she is quite sensible now, and wishes to +have me there. What did you want, Emily?' + +'Oh! I wish you would draw the curtain, the light hurts me; that +will do--no--now it is worse, pray put it as it was before. Oh! +Lily, if you knew how ill I am you would not leave me.' + +'Can I do anything for you--will you have some coffee?' + +'Oh! no, it has a bad taste, I am sure it is carelessly made.' + +'Shall I make you some fresh, with the spirit lamp?' + +'No, I am tired of it. I wonder if I might have some tamarinds?' + +'I will ask as soon as papa comes from church.' + +'Is he gone to church? how could he go when we are all so ill?' + +'Perhaps he was doing us more good at church than he could at home. +You will be glad to hear, Emily, that he has sent for Rachel to come +and help us.' + +'Oh! has he? but she lives so far off, and gets her letters so +seldom, I don't reckon at all upon her coming. If she could come +directly it would be a comfort.' + +'It would, indeed,' said Lily; 'she would know what to do for Jane.' + +'Lily, where is the ether? You are always taking it away.' + +'In Jane's room; I will fetch it.' + +'No, no, if you once get into Jane's room I shall never see you back +again.' + +Now Emily knew that Jane was very ill, and Lily's pale cheeks, heavy +eyes, and failing voice, might have reminded her that two sick +persons were a heavy charge upon a girl of seventeen, without the +addition of her caprices and fretfulness. And how was it that the +kind-hearted, affectionate Emily never thought of all this? It was +because she had been giving way to selfishness for nineteen years; +and now the contemplation of her own sufferings was quite enough to +hide from her that others had much to bear; and illness, instead of +teaching her patience and consideration, only made her more exacting +and querulous. + +To Lily's unspeakable relief, Miss Weston accompanied Mr. Mohun from +church, and offered to share her attendance. No one knew what it +cost Alethea to come into the midst of a scene which constantly +reminded her of the sisters she had lost, but she did not shrink from +it, and was glad that her parents saw no objection to her offering to +share Lily's toils. Her experience was most valuable, and relieved +Lilias of the fear that was continually haunting her, lest her +ignorance might lead to some fatal mistake. The next day brought +Rachel, and both patients began to mend. Jane's recovery was quicker +than Emily's, for her constitution was not so languid, and having no +pleasure in the importance of being an invalid, she was willing to +exert herself, and make the best of everything, while Emily did not +much like to be told that she was better, and thought it cruel to +hint that exertion would benefit her. Both were convalescent before +the fever attacked Lily, who was severely ill, but not alarmingly so, +and her gentleness and patience made Alethea delight in having the +care of her. Lily was full of gratitude to her kind friend, and felt +quite happy when Alethea chanced one day to call her by the name of +Emma; she almost hoped she was taking the place of that sister, and +the thought cheered her through many languid hours, and gave double +value to all Alethea's kindness. She did not feel disposed to repine +at an illness which brought out such affection from her friend, and +still more from her father, who, when he came to see her, would say +things which gave her a thrill of pleasure whenever she thought of +them. + +It happened one day that Jane, having finished her book, looked round +for some other occupation; she knew that Miss Weston had walked to +Broomhill; Rachael was with Lilias, and there was no amusement at +hand. At last she recollected that her papa had said in the morning, +that he hoped to see her and Emily in the schoolroom in the course of +the day, and hoping to meet her sister, she resolved to try and get +there. The room had been Mr. Mohun's sitting-room since the +beginning of their illness, and it looked so very comfortable that +she was glad she had come, though she was so tired she wondered how +she should get back again. Emily was not there, so she lay down on +the sofa and took up a little book from the table. The title was +Susan Harvey, or Confirmation, and she read it with more interest as +she remembered with a pang that this was the day of the confirmation, +to which she had been invited; she soon found herself shedding tears +over the book, she who had never yet been known to cry at any story, +however affecting. She had not finished when Mr. Devereux came in to +look for Mr. Mohun, and finding her there, was going away as soon as +he had congratulated her on having left her room, but she begged him +to stay, and began asking questions about the confirmation. + +'Were there many people?' + +'Three hundred.' + +'Did the Stoney Bridge people make a disturbance?' + +'No.' + +'How many of our people?' + +'Twenty-seven.' + +'Did all the girls wear caps?' + +'Most of them.' + +Jane was rather surprised at the shortness of her cousin's answers, +but she went on, as he stood before the fire, apparently in deep +thought. + +'Was Miss Burnet confirmed? She is the dullest girl I ever knew, and +she is older than I am. Was she confused?' + +'She was.' + +'Did you give Mary Wright a ticket?' + +'No.' + +'Then, of course, you did not give one to Ned Long. I thought you +would never succeed in making him remember which is the ninth +commandment.' + +'I did not refuse him.' + +'Indeed! did he improve in a portentous manner?' + +'Not particularly.' + +'Well, you must have been more merciful than I expected.' + +'Indeed!' + +'Robert, you must have lost the use of your tongue, for want of us to +talk to. I shall be affronted if you go into a brown study the first +day of seeing me.' + +He smiled in a constrained manner, and after a few minutes said, 'I +have been considering whether this is a fit time to tell you what +will give you pain. You must tell me if you can bear it.' + +'About Lily, or the little ones?' + +'No, no! only about yourself. Your father wished me to speak to you, +but I would not have done so on this first meeting, but what you have +just been saying makes me think this is the best occasion.' + +'Let me know; I do not like suspense,' said Jane, sharply. + +'I think it right to tell you, Jane, that neither your father nor I +thought it would be desirable for you to be confirmed at this time.' + +'Do you really mean it?' said Jane. + +'Look back on the past year, and say if you sincerely think you are +fit for confirmation.' + +'As to that,' said Jane, 'the best people are always saying that they +are not fit for these things.' + +'None can call themselves worthy of them; but I think the conscience +of some would bear them witness that they had profited so far by +their present means of grace as to give grounds for hoping that they +would derive benefit from further assistance.' + +'Well, I suppose I must be very bad, since you see it,' said Jane, in +a manner rather more subdued; 'but I did not think myself worse than +other people.' + +'Is a Christian called, only to be no worse than others?' + +'Oh no! I see, I mean--pray tell me my great fault. Pertness, I +suppose--love of gossip?' + +'There must be a deeper root of evil, of which these are but the +visible effects, Jane.' + +'What do you mean, Robert?' said Jane, now seeming really impressed. + +'I think, Jane, that the greatest and most dangerous fault of your +character is want of reverence. I think it is want of reverence +which makes you press forward to that for which you confess yourself +unfit; it is want of reverence for holiness which makes you not care +to attain it; want of reverence for the Holy Word that makes you +treat it as a mere lesson; and in smaller matters your pertness is +want of reverence for your superiors; you would not be ready to +believe and to say the worst of others, if you reverenced what good +there may be in them. Take care that your want of reverence is not +in reality want of faith.' + +Jane's spirits were weak and subdued. It was a great shock to her to +hear that she was not thought worthy of confirmation; her faults had +never been called by so hard a name; she was in part humbled, and in +part grieved, and what she thought harshness in her cousin; she +turned away her face, and did not speak. He continued, 'Jane, you +must not think me unkind, your father desired me to talk to you, and, +indeed, the time of recovery from sickness is too precious to be +trifled away.' + +Jane wept bitterly. Presently he said, 'It grieves me to have been +obliged to speak harshly to you, you must forgive me if I have talked +too much to you, Jane.' + +Jane tried to speak, but sobs prevented her, and she gave way to a +violent fit of crying. Her cousin feared he had been unwise in +saying so much, and had weakened the effect of his own words. He +would have been glad to see tears of repentance, but he was afraid +that she was weeping over fancied unkindness, and that he might have +done what might be hurtful to her in her weak state. He said a few +kind words, and tried to console her, but this change of tone rather +added to her distress, and she became hysterical. He was much vexed +and alarmed, and, ringing the bell, hastened to call assistance. He +found Esther, and sent her to Jane, and on returning to the +schoolroom with some water, he found her lying exhausted on the sofa; +he therefore went in search of his uncle, who was overlooking some +farming work, and many were the apologies made, and many the +assurances he received, that it would be better for her in the end, +as the impression would be more lasting. + +Jane was scarcely conscious of her cousin's departure, or of Esther's +arrival, but after drinking some water, and lying still for a few +moments, she exclaimed, 'Oh, Robert! oh, Esther! the confirmation!' +and gasped and sobbed again. Esther thought she had guessed the +cause of her tears, and tried to comfort her. + +'Ah! Miss Jane, there will be another confirmation some day; it was a +sad thing you were too ill, to be sure, but--' + +'Oh! if I had--if he would not say--if he had thought me fit.' + +Esther was amazed, and asked if she should call Miss Weston, who was +now with Lilias. + +'No, no!' cried Jane, nearly relapsing into hysterics. 'She shall +not see me in this state.' + +Esther hardly knew what to do, but she tried to soothe and comfort +her by following what was evidently the feeling predominating in +Jane's mind, as indicated by her broken sentences, and said, 'It was +a pity, to be sure, that Mr. Devereux came and talked so long, he +could not know of your being so very weak, Miss Jane.' + +'Yes,' said Jane, faintly, 'I could have borne it better if he had +waited a few days.' + +'Yes, Miss, when you had not been so very ill. Mr. Devereux is a +very good gentleman, but they do say he is very sharp.' + +'He means to be kind,' said Jane, 'but I do not think he has much +consideration, always.' + +'Yes, Miss Jane, that is just what Mrs. White said, when--' + +Esther's speech was cut short by the entrance of Miss Weston. Jane +started up, dashed off her tears, and tried to look as usual, but the +paleness of her face, and the redness of her eyes, made this +impossible, and she was obliged to lie down again. Esther left the +room, and Miss Weston did not feel intimate enough with Jane to ask +any questions; she gave her some sal volatile, talked kindly to her +of her weakness, and offered to read to her; all the time leaving an +opening for confidence, if Jane wished to relieve her mind. The book +which lay near her accounted, as she thought, for her agitation, and +she blamed herself for having judged her harshly as deficient in +feeling, now that she found her so much distressed, because illness +had prevented her confirmation. Under this impression she honoured +her reserve, while she thought with more affection of Lily's open +heart. Jane, who never took, or expected others to take, the most +favourable view of people's motives, thought Alethea knew the cause +of her distress, and disliked her the more, as having witnessed her +humiliation. + +Such was Jane's love of gossip that the next time she was alone with +Esther she asked for the history of Mrs. White, thus teaching her +maid disrespect to her pastor, indirectly complaining of his +unkindness, and going far to annul the effect of what she had learnt +at school. Perhaps during her hysterics Jane's conduct was not under +control, but subsequent silence was in her power, and could she be +free from blame if Esther's faults gained greater ascendency? + +The next day Mr. Mohun attempted to speak to Jane, but being both +frightened and unhappy, she found it very easy and natural, as well +as very convenient, to fall into hysterics again, and her father was +obliged to desist, regretting that, at the only time she was subdued +enough to listen to reproof, she was too weak to bear it without +injury. Rachel, who was nearly as despotic among the young ladies as +she had been in former times in the nursery, now insisted on Emily's +going into the schoolroom, and when there, she made rapid progress. +Alethea was amused to see how Jane's decided will and lively spirit +would induce Emily to make exertions, which no persuasions of hers +could make her think other than impossible. + +A few days more, and they were nearly well again; and Lilias so far +recovered as to be able to spare her kind friend, who returned home +with a double portion of Lily's love, and of deep gratitude from Mr. +Mohun; but these feelings were scarcely expressed in words. Emily +gave her some graceful thanks, and Jane disliked her more than ever. + +It was rather a dreary time that now commenced with the young ladies; +they were tired of seeing the same faces continually, and dispirited +by hearing that the fever was spreading in the village. The autumn +was far advanced, the weather was damp and gloomy, and the sisters +sat round the fire shivering with cold, feeling the large room dreary +and deserted, missing the merry voices of the children, and much +tormented by want of occupation. They could not go out, their hands +were not steady enough to draw, they felt every letter which they had +to write a heavy burden; neither Emily nor Lily could like +needlework; they could have no music, for the piano at the other end +of the room seemed to be in an Arctic Region, and they did little but +read novels and childish stories, and play at chess or backgammon. +Jane was the best off. Mrs. Weston sent her a little sock, with a +request that she would make out the way in which it was knit, in a +complicated feathery pattern, and in puzzling over her cotton, taking +stitches up and letting them down, she made the time pass a little +less heavily with her than with her sisters. + + + +CHAPTER XIII--A CURIOSITY MAP + + + +'Keek into the draw-well, + Janet, Janet, +There ye'll see your bonny sell, + My jo Janet.' + +It was at this time that Lady Rotherwood and her daughter arrived at +Devereux Castle, and Mr. Mohun was obliged to go to meet her there, +leaving his three daughters to spend a long winter evening by +themselves, in their doleful and dismal way, as Lily called it. + +The evening had closed in, but they did not ring for candles, lest +they should make it seem longer; and Jane was just beginning to laugh +at Emily for the deplorable state of her frock and collar, tumbled +with lying on the sofa, when the three girls all started at the +unexpected sound of a ring at the front door. + +With a rapid and joyful suspicion who it might be, Emily and Lilias +sprang to the door, Jane thrust the poker into the fire, in a +desperate attempt to produce a flame, drove an arm-chair off the +hearth-rug, whisked an old shawl out of sight, and flew after them +into the hall, just as the deep tones of a well-known voice were +heard greeting old Joseph. + +'William!' cried the girls. 'Oh! is it you? Are you not afraid of +the scarlet fever?' + +'No, who has it?' + +'We have had it, but we are quite well now. How cold you are!' + +'But where is my father?' + +'Gone to Hetherington with Robert, to meet Aunt Rotherwood. Come +into the drawing-room.' + +Here Emily glided off to perform a hurried toilette. + +'And the little ones?' + +'At Broomhill. Mrs. Weston was so kind as to take them out of the +way of the infection,' said Lily. + +'Oh! William, those Westons!' + +'Westons, what Westons? Not those I knew at Brighton?' + +'The very same,' said Lily. 'They have taken the house at Broomhill. +Oh! they have been so very kind, I do not know what would have become +of us without Alethea.' + +'Why did you not tell me they were living here? And you like them?' + +'Like them! No one can tell the comfort Alethea has been. She came +to us and nursed us, and has been my great support.' + +'And Phyllis and Ada are with them?' + +'Yes, they have been at Broomhill these six weeks, and more.' + +Here Emily came in and told William that his room was ready, and +Rachel on the stairs wishing to see the Captain. + +'How well he looks!' cried Lily, as he closed the door; 'it is quite +refreshing to see any one looking so strong and bright.' + +'And more like Sir Maurice than ever,' said Emily. + +'Ah! but Claude is more like,' said Lily, 'because he is pale.' + +'Well,' said Jane, 'do let us in the meantime make the room look more +fit to be seen before he comes down.' + +The alacrity which had long been wanting to Lilias and Jane had +suddenly returned, and they succeeded in making the room look +surprisingly comfortable, compared with its former desolate aspect, +before William came down, and renewed his inquiries after all the +family. + +'And how is my father's deafness?' was one of his questions. + +'Worse,' said Emily. 'I am afraid all the younger ones will learn to +vociferate. He hears no one well but ourselves.' + +'Oh! and Alethea Weston,' said Lily. 'Her voice is so clear and +distinct, that she hardly ever raises it to make him hear. And have +you ever heard her sing?' + +'Yes, she sings very well. I cannot think why you never told me they +were living here.' + +'Because you never honour us with your correspondence,' said Emily; +'if you had vouchsafed to write to your sisters you could not have +escaped hearing of the Westons.' + +'And has Mr. Weston given up the law?' + +'No, he only came home in the vacation,' said Emily. 'Did you know +they had lost two daughters?' + +'I saw it in the paper. Emma and Lucy were nice girls, but not equal +to Miss Weston. What a shock to Mrs. Weston!' + +'Yes, she quite lost her health, and the doctors said she must move +into the country directly. Mrs. Carrington, who is some distant +connection, told them of this place, and they took it rather +hastily.' + +'Do they like it?' + +'Oh yes, very much!' said Emily. 'Mrs. Weston is very fond of the +garden, and drives about in the pony-carriage, and it is quite +pleasant to see how she admires the views.' + +'And,' added Lily, 'Alethea walks with us, and sings with me, and +teaches at school, and knows all the poor people.' + +'I must go and see those children to-morrow,' said William. + +The evening passed very pleasantly; and perhaps, in truth, Captain +Mohun and his sisters were surprised to find each other so agreeable; +for, in the eyes of the young ladies, he was by far the most awful +person in the family. + +When he had been last at home Harry's recent death had thrown a gloom +over the whole family, and he had especially missed him. Himself +quick, sensible, clever, and active, he was intolerant of opposite +qualities, and the principal effect of that visit to Beechcroft was +to make all the younger ones afraid of him, to discourage poor +Claude, and to give to himself a gloomy remembrance of that home +which had lost its principal charms in his mother and Harry. + +He had now come home rather from a sense of duty than an expectation +of pleasure, and he was quite surprised to find how much more +attractive the New Court had become. Emily and Lilias were now +conversible and intelligent companions, better suited to him than +Eleanor had ever been, and he had himself in these four years +acquired a degree of gentleness and consideration which prevented him +from appearing so unapproachable as in days of old. This was +especially the case with regard to Claude, whose sensitive and rather +timid nature had in his childhood suffered much from William's boyish +attempts to make him manly, and as he grew older, had almost felt +himself despised; but now William appreciated his noble qualities, +and was anxious to make amends for his former unkindness. + +Claude came home from Oxford, not actually ill, but in the ailing +condition in which he often was, just weak enough to give his sisters +a fair excuse for waiting upon him, and petting him all day long. +About the same time Phyllis and Adeline came back from Broomhill, and +there was great joy at the New Court at the news that Mrs. +Hawkesworth was the happy mother of a little boy. + +Claude was much pleased by being asked by Eleanor to be godfather to +his little nephew, whose name was to be Henry. Perhaps he hoped, +what Lilias was quite sure of, that Eleanor did not think him +unworthy to stand in Harry's place. + +The choice of the other sponsors did not meet with universal +approbation. Emily thought it rather hard that Mr. Hawkesworth's +sister, Mrs. Ridley, should have been chosen before herself, and both +she and Ada would have greatly preferred either Lord Rotherwood, Mr. +Devereux, or William, to Mr. Ridley, while Phyllis had wanderings of +her own how Claude could be godfather without being present at the +christening. + +One evening Claude was writing his answer to Eleanor, sitting at the +sofa table where a small lamp was burning. Jane, attracted by its +bright and soft radiance, came and sat down opposite to him with her +work. + +'What a silence!' said Lily, after about a quarter of an hour. + +'What made you start, Jane?' said William. + +'Did I?' said Jane. + +'My speaking, I suppose,' said Lily, 'breaking the awful spell of +silence.' + +'How red you look, Jane. What is the matter?' said William. + +'Do I?' asked Jane, becoming still redder. + +'It is holding your face down over that baby's hood,' said Emily, +'you will sacrifice the colour of your nose to your nephew.' + +Claude now asked Jane for the sealing-wax, folded up his letter, +sealed it, put on a stamp, and as Jane was leaving the room at +bedtime, said, 'Jenny, my dear, as you go by, just put that letter in +the post-bag.' + +Jane obeyed, and left the room. Claude soon after took the letter +out of the bag, went to Emily's door, listened to ascertain that Jane +was not there, and then knocked and was admitted. + +'I could not help coming,' said he, 'to tell you of the trap in which +Brownie has been caught.' + +'Ah!' said Lily, 'I fancied I saw her peeping slyly at your letter.' + +'Just so,' said Claude, 'and I hope she has experienced the truth of +an old proverb.' + +'Oh! tell us what you have said,' cried the sisters. + +Claude read, 'Jane desires me to say that a hood for the baby shall +be sent in the course of a week, and she hopes that it may be worn at +the christening. I should rather say I hope it may be lost in the +transit, for assuredly the head that it covers must be infected with +something far worse than the scarlet fever--the fever of curiosity, +the last quality which I should like my godson to possess. My only +consolation is, that he will see the full deformity of the vice, as, +poor little fellow, he becomes acquainted with "that worst of +plagues, a prying maiden aunt." If Jane was simply curious, I should +not complain, but her love of investigation is not directed to what +ought to be known, but rather to find out some wretched subject for +petty scandal, to blacken every action, and to add to the weight of +every misdeed, and all for the sake of detailing her discoveries in +exchange for similar information with Mrs. Appleton, or some equally +suitable confidante.' + +'Is that all?' said Lily. + +'And enough, too, I hope,' said Claude. + +'It ought to cure her!' cried Emily. + +'Cure her!' said Claude, 'no such thing; cures are not wrought in +this way; this is only a joke, and to keep it up, I will tell you a +piece of news, which Jane must have spied out in my letter, as I had +just written it when I saw her eyes in a suspicious direction. It +was settled that Messieurs Maurice and Redgie are to go for two hours +a day, three times a week, to Mr. Stevens, during the holidays.' + +'The new Stoney Bridge curate?' said Emily. + +'I am very glad you are not to be bored by them,' said Lily, 'but how +they will dislike it!' + +'It is very hard upon them,' said Claude, 'and I tried to prevent it, +but the Baron was quite determined. Now I will begin to talk about +this plan, and see whether Jenny betrays any knowledge of it.' + +'Oh! it will be rare!' cried Lily; 'but do not speak of it before the +Baron or William.' + +'Let it be at luncheon,' said Emily, 'you know they never appear. Do +you mean to send the letter?' + +'Not that part of it,' said Claude, 'you see I can tear off the last +page, and it is only to add a new conclusion. Good-night.' + +Jane had certainly not spent the evening in an agreeable manner; she +had not taken her seat at Claude's table with any evil designs +towards his letter, but his writing was clear and legible, and her +eye caught the word 'Maurice;' she wished to know what Claude could +be saying about him, and having once begun, she could not leave off, +especially when she saw her own name. When aware of the compliments +he was paying her, she looked at him, but his eyes were fixed on his +pen, and no smile, no significant expression betrayed that he was +aware of her observations; and even when he gave her the letter to +put into the post-bag he looked quite innocent and unconcerned. On +the other hand, she did not like to think that he had been sending +such a character of her to Eleanor in sober sadness; it was +impossible to find out whether he had sent the letter; she could not +venture to beg him to keep it back, she could only trust to his good- +nature. + +At luncheon, as they had agreed, Lily began by asking where her papa +and William were gone? Claude answered, 'To Stoney Bridge, to call +upon Mr. Stevens; they mean to ask him to dine one day next week, to +be introduced to his pupils.' + +'Is he an Oxford or Cambridge man?' asked Lily. + +'Oxford,' exclaimed Jane, quite forgetting whence she had derived her +information, 'he is a fellow of--' + +'Indeed?' said Lily; 'how do you know that?' + +'Why, we have all been talking of him lately,' said Jane. + +'Not I,' said Emily, 'why should he interest us?' + +'Because he is to tutor the boys,' said Jane. + +'When did you hear that he is to tutor the boys?' asked Lily. + +'When you did, I suppose,' said Jane, blushing. + +'You did, did you?' said Claude. 'I feel convinced, if so, that you +must really be what you are so often called, a changeling. I heard +it, or rather read it first at Oxford, where the Baron desired me to +make inquiries about him. You were, doubtless, looking over my +shoulder at the moment. This is quite a discovery. We shall have to +perform a brewery of egg-shells this evening, and put the elf to +flight with a red-hot poker, and what a different sister Jane we +shall recover, instead of this little mischief-making sprite, so +quiet, so reserved, never intruding her opinion, showing constant +deference to all her superiors--yes, and to her inferiors, shutting +her eyes to the faults of others, and when they come before her, +trying to shield the offender from those who regard them as merely +exciting news.' + +Claude's speech had become much more serious than he intended, and he +felt quite guilty when he had finished, so that it was not at all an +undesirable interruption when Phyllis and Adeline asked for the story +of the brewery of egg-shells. + +Emily and Lilias kindly avoided looking at Jane, who, after fidgeting +on her chair and turning very red, succeeded in regaining outward +composure. She resolved to let the matter die away, and think no +more about it. + +When Mr. Mohun and William came home, they brought the news that Lady +Rotherwood had invited the whole party to dinner. + +'I am very glad we are allowed to see them,' said Emily, 'I am quite +tired of being shut up.' + +'If it was not for the Westons we might as well live in Nova Zembla,' +said Jane. + +'I am glad you damsels should know a little more of Florence,' said +Mrs. Mohun. + +'Yes,' said Claude, 'cousins were made to be friends.' + +'In that case one ought to be able to choose them,' said William. + +'And know them,' said Emily. 'We have not seen Florence since she +was eleven years old.' + +'Cousin or not,' said Lilias, 'Florence can hardly be so much my +friend as Alethea.' + +'Right, Lily,' said William, 'stand up for old friends against all +the cousins in the universe.' + +'Has Alethea a right to be called an old friend?' said Emily; 'does +three quarters of a year make friendship venerable?' + +'No one can deny that she is a tried friend,' said Lilias. + +'But pray, good people,' said Claude, 'what called forth those vows +of eternal constancy? why was my innocent general observation +construed into an attack upon Miss Weston?' + +'Because there is something invidious in your tone,' said Lily. + +'What kind of girl is that Florence?' asked William. + +'Oh! a nice, lively, pleasant girl,' said Claude. + +'I cannot make out what her pursuits are,' said Lily; 'Rotherwood +never talks of her reading anything.' + +'She has been governessed and crammed till she is half sick of all +reading,' said Claude, 'of all study--ay, and all accomplishments.' + +'So that is the friend you recommend, Lily!' said William. + +'Well, Claude, that is what I call a great shame,' said Emily. + +'Stay,' said Claude, 'you have heard but half my story, I say that +this is the reaction. Florence has no lack of sense, and if you +young ladies are wise, you may help her to find the use of it.' + +Claude's further opinion did not transpire, as dinner was announced, +and nothing more was said about Lady Florence till the girls had an +opportunity of judging for themselves. She had a good deal of her +brother's vivacity, with gentleness and grace, which made her very +engaging, and her perfect recollection of the New Court, and of +childish days, charmed her cousins. Lady Rotherwood was very kind +and affectionate, and held out hopes of many future meetings. The +next day Maurice and Reginald came home from school, bringing a +better character for diligence than usual, on which they founded +hopes that the holidays would be left to their own disposal. They +were by no means pleased with the arrangement made with Mr. Stevens +and most unwillingly did they undertake the expedition to Stony +Bridge, performing the journey in a very unsociable manner. Maurice +was no horseman, and chose to jog on foot through three miles of +lane, while Reginald's pony cantered merrily along, its master's head +being intent upon the various winter sports in which William and Lord +Rotherwood allowed him to share. Little did Maurice care for such +diversions; he was, as Adeline said, studying another 'apology.' +This time it was phrenology, for which the cropped heads of Lilias +and Jane afforded unusual facility. There was, however, but a +limited supply of heads willing to be fingered, and Maurice returned +to the most abiding of his tastes, and in an empty room at the Old +Court laboured assiduously to find the secret of perpetual motion. + +A few days before Christmas Rachel Harvey again took leave of +Beechcroft, with a promise that she would make them another visit +when Eleanor came home. Before she went she gave Emily a useful +caution, telling her it was not right to trust her keys out of her +own possession. It was what Miss Mohun never would have done, she +had never once committed them even to Rachel. + +'With due deference to Eleanor,' said Emily, with her winning smile, +'we must allow that that was being over cautious.' + +Rachel smiled, but her lecture was not averted by the compliment. + +'It might have been very well since you have known me, Miss Emily, +but I do not know what would have come of it, if I had been too much +trusted when I was a giddy young thing like Esther; that girl comes +of a bad lot, and if anything is to be made of her, it is by keeping +temptation out of her way, and not letting her be with that mother of +hers.' + +Rachel had rather injured the effect of her advice by behaving too +like a mistress during her visit; Emily had more than once wished +that all servants were not privileged people, and she was more +offended than convinced by the remonstrance. + + + +CHAPTER XIV--CHRISTMAS + + + + 'Slee, sla, slud, + Stuck in the mud, +O! it is pretty to wade through a flood, + Come, wheel round, + The dirt we have found, +Would he an estate at a farthing a pound.' + +Lily's illness interrupted her teaching at the village school for +many weeks, and she was in no great haste to resume it. Alethea +Weston seemed to enjoy doing all that was required, and Lily left it +in her hands, glad to shut her eyes as much as possible to the +disheartening state the parish had been in ever since her former +indiscretion. + +The approach of Christmas, however, made it necessary for her to +exert herself a little more, and her interest in parish matters +revived as she distributed the clothing-club goods, and in private +conference with each good dame, learnt the wants of her family. But +it was sad to miss several names struck out of the list for non- +attendance at church; and when Mrs. Eden came for her child's +clothing, Lily remarked that the articles she chose were unlike those +of former years, the cheapest and coarsest she could find. + +St. Thomas's day was marked by the custom, called at Beechcroft +'gooding.' Each mother of a family came to all the principal houses +in the parish to receive sixpence, towards providing a Christmas +dinner, and it was Lily's business to dispense this dole at the New +Court. With a long list of names and a heap of silver before her, +she sat at the oaken table by the open chimney in the hall, returning +a nod or a smiling greeting to the thanks of the women as they came, +one by one, to receive the little silver coins, and warm themselves +by the glowing wood fire. + +Pleasant as the task was at first, it ended painfully. Agnes Eden +appeared, in order to claim the double portion allotted to her +mother, as a widow. This was the first time that Mrs. Eden had asked +for the gooding-money, and Lily knew that it was a sign that she must +be in great distress. Agnes made her a little courtesy, and crept +away again as soon as she had received her shilling; but Mrs. Grey, +who was Mrs. Eden's neighbour, had not quite settled her penny-club +affairs, and remained a little longer. An unassuming and lightly- +principled person was Mrs. Grey, and Lily enjoyed a talk with her, +while she was waiting for the purple stuff frock which Jane was +measuring off for Kezia. They spoke of the children, and of a few +other little matters, and presently something was said about Mrs. +Eden; Lily asked if the blacksmith helped her. + +'Oh! no, Miss Lilias, he will do nothing for her while she sends her +child to school and to church. He will not speak to her even. Not a +bit of butter, nor a morsel of bacon, has been in her house since +Michaelmas, and what she would have done if it was not for Mr. +Devereux and Mrs. Weston, I cannot think.' + +Lilias, much shocked by this account of the distress into which she +and Jane had been the means of bringing the widow, reported it to her +father and to the Rector; entreating the former to excuse her rent, +which he willingly promised to do, and also desired his daughters to +give her a blanket, and tell her to come to dine house whenever any +broth was to be given away. Mr. Devereux, who already knew of her +troubles, and allowed her a small sum weekly, now told his cousins +how much the Greys had assisted her. Andrew Grey had dug up and +housed her winter's store of potatoes, he had sought work for her, +and little Agnes often shared the meals of his children. The Greys +had a large family, very young, so that all that they did for her was +the fruit of self-denial. Innumerable were the kindnesses which they +performed unknown to any but the widow and her child. More, by a +hundred times, did they assist her, than the thoughtless girls who +had occasioned her sufferings, though Lily was not the only one who +felt that nothing was too much for them to do. Nothing, perhaps, +would have been too much, except to bear her in mind and steadily aid +her in little things; but Lily took no account of little things, +talked away her feelings, and thus all her grand resolutions produced +almost nothing. Lord Rotherwood sent Mrs. Eden a sovereign, the +girls newly clothed little Agnes, Phyllis sometimes carried her the +scraps of her dinner, Mrs. Eden once came to work at the New Court, +and a few messes of broth were given to her, but in general she was +forgotten, and when remembered, indolence or carelessness too often +prevented the Miss Mohuns from helping her. In Emily's favourite +phrase, each individual thing was 'not worth while.' + +When Lilias did think it 'worth while,' she would do a great deal +upon impulse, sometimes with more zeal than discretion, as she proved +by an expedition which she took on Christmas Eve. Mr. Mohun did not +allow the poor of the village to depend entirely on the gooding for +their Christmas dinner, but on the 24th of December a large mess of +excellent beef broth was prepared at the New Court, and distributed +to all his own labourers, and the most respectable of the other +cottagers. + +In the course of the afternoon Lily found that one portion had not +been given out. It was that which was intended for the Martins, a +poor old rheumatic couple, who lived at South End, the most distant +part of the parish. Neither of them could walk as far as the New +Court, and most of their neighbours had followed Farmer Gage, and had +therefore been excluded from the distribution, so that there was no +one to send. Lily, therefore, resolved herself to carry the broth to +them, if she could find an escort, which was not an easy matter, as +the frost had that morning broken up, and a good deal of snow and +rain had been falling in the course of the day. In the hall she met +Reginald, just turned out of Maurice's workshop, and much at a loss +for employment. + +'Redgie,' said she, 'you can do me a great kindness.' + +'If it is not a bore,' returned Reginald. + +'I only want you to walk with me to South End.' + +'Eh?' said Reginald; 'I thought the little Misses were too delicate +to put their dear little proboscises outside the door.' + +'That is the reason I ask you; I do not think Emily or Jane would +like it, and it is too far for Claude. Those poor old Martins have +not got their broth, and there is no one to fetch it for them.' + +'Then do not be half an hour putting on your things.' + +'Thank you; and do not run off, and make me spend an hour in hunting +for you, and then say that I made you wait.' + +'I will wait fast enough. You are not so bad as Emily,' said +Reginald, while Lily ran upstairs to equip herself. When she came +down, she was glad to find her escort employed in singeing the end of +the tail of the old rocking-horse at the fire in the hall, so that +she was not obliged to seek him in the drawing-room, where her plans +would probably have met with opposition. She had, however, +objections to answer from an unexpected quarter. Reginald was much +displeased when she took possession of the pitcher of broth. + +'I will not walk with such a thing as that,' said he, 'it makes you +look like one of the dirty girls in the village.' + +'Then you ought, like the courteous Rinaldo, to carry it for me,' +said Lily. + +'I touch the nasty thing! Faugh! Throw it into the gutter, Lily.' + +He made an attempt to dispose of it in that manner, which it required +all Lily's strength to withstand, as well as an imploring 'Now, +Redgie, think of the poor old people. Remember, you have promised.' + +'Promised! I never promised to walk with a greasy old pitcher. What +am I to do if we meet Miss Weston?' + +Lily contrived to overcome Reginald's refined notions sufficiently to +make him allow her to carry the pitcher; and when he had whistled up +two of the dogs, they proceeded merrily along the road, dirty and wet +though it was. Their walk was not entirely without adventures; +first, they had to turn back in the path by the river side, which +would have saved them half a mile, but was now flooded. Then, as +they were passing through a long lane, which led them by Edward +Gage's farm, a great dog rushed out of the yard, and fell upon the +little terrier, Viper. Old Neptune flew to the rescue, and to the +great alarm of Lily, Reginald ran up with a stick; happily, however, +a labourer at the same time came out with a pitchfork, and beat off +the enemy. These two delays, together with Reginald's propensity for +cutting sticks, and for breaking ice, made it quite late when they +arrived at South End. When there, they found that a kind neighbour +had brought the old people their broth in the morning, and intended +to go for her own when she came home from her work in the evening. +It was not often that Lily went to South End; the old people were +delighted to see her, and detained her for some time by a long story +about their daughter at service, while Reginald looked the picture of +impatience, drumming on his knee, switching the leg of the table, and +tickling Neptune's ears. When they left the cottage it was much +later and darker than they had expected; but Lily was unwilling again +to encounter the perils of the lane, and consulted her brother +whether there was not some other way. He gave notice of a cut across +some fields, which would take them into the turnpike road, and Lily +agreeing, they climbed over a gate into a pathless turnip field. +Reginald strode along first, calling to the dogs, while Lily +followed, abstaining from dwelling on the awkward circumstance that +every step she took led her farther from home, and rejoicing that it +was so dark that she could not see the mud which plastered the edge +of her petticoats. After plodding through three very long fields, +they found themselves shut in by a high hedge and tall ditch. + +'That fool of a farmer!' cried Reginald. + +'What is to be done?' said Lily, disconsolately. + +'There is the road,' said Reginald. 'How do you propose to get into +it?' + +'There was a gap here last summer,' said the boy. + +'Very likely! Come back; try the next field; it must have a gate +somewhere.' + +Back they went, after seeing the carrier's cart from Raynham pass by. + +'Redgie, it must be half-past five! We shall never be in time. Aunt +Rotherwood coming too!' + +After a desperate plunge through a swamp of ice, water, and mud, they +found themselves at a gate, and safely entered the turnpike road. + +'How it rains!' said Lily. 'One comfort is that it is too dark for +any one to see us.' + +'Not very dark, either,' said Reginald; 'I believe there is a moon if +one could see it. Ha! here comes some one on horseback. It is a +gray horse; it is William.' + +'Come to look for us,' said Lily. 'Oh, Redgie!' + +'Coming home from Raynham,' said Reginald. 'Do not fancy yourself so +important, Lily. William, is that you?' + +'Reginald!' exclaimed William, suddenly checking his horse. 'Lily, +what is all this?' + +'We set out to South End, to take the broth to the old Martins, and +we found the meadows flooded, which made us late; but we shall soon +be at home,' said Lily, in a make-the-best-of-it tone. + +'Soon? You are a mile and a half from home now, and do you know how +late it is?' + +'Half-past five,' said Lily. + +'Six, at least; how could you be so absurd?' William rode quickly +on; Reginald laughed, and they plodded on; at length a tall dark +figure was seen coming towards them, and Lily started, as it +addressed her, 'Now what is the meaning of all this?' + +'Oh, William, have you come to meet us? Thank you; I am sorry--' + +'How were you to come through the village in the dark, without some +one to take care of you?' + +'I am taking care of her,' said Reginald, affronted. + +'Make haste; my aunt is come. How could you make the people at home +so anxious?' + +William gave Lily his arm, and on finding she was both tired and wet, +again scolded her, walked so fast that she was out of breath, then +complained of her folly, and blamed Reginald. It was very +unpleasant, and yet she was very much obliged to him, and exceedingly +sorry he had taken so much trouble. + +They came home at about seven o'clock. Jane met them in the hall, +full of her own and Lady Rotherwood's wonderings; she hurried Lily +upstairs, and--skilful, quick, and ready--she helped her to dress in +a very short time. As they ran down Reginald overtook them, and they +entered the drawing-room as the dinner-bell was ringing. William did +not appear for some time, and his apologies were not such as to +smooth matters for his sister. + +Perhaps it was for this very reason that Mr. Mohun allowed Lily to +escape with no more than a jesting reproof. Lord Rotherwood wished +to make his cousin's hardihood and enterprise an example to his +sister, and, in his droll exaggerating way, represented such walks as +every-day occurrences. This was just the contrary to what Emily +wished her aunt to believe, and Claude was much diverted with the +struggle between her politeness to Lord Rotherwood and her desire to +maintain the credit of the family. + +Lady Florence, though liking Lilias, thought this walk extravagant. +Emily feared Lilias had lost her aunt's good opinion, and prepared +herself for some hints about a governess. It was untoward; but in +the course of the evening she was a little comforted by a proposal +from Lady Rotherwood to take her and Lilias to a ball at Raynham, +which was to take place in January; and as soon as the gentlemen +appeared, they submitted the invitation to their father, while Lady +Rotherwood pressed William to accompany them, and he was refusing. + +'What are soldiers intended for but to dance!' said Lord Rotherwood. + +'I never dance,' said William, with a grave emphasis. + +'I am out of the scrape,' said the Marquis. 'I shall be gone before +it takes place; I reserve all my dancing for July 30th. Well, young +ladies, is the Baron propitious?' + +'He says he will consider of it,' said Emily. + +'Oh then, he will let you go,' said Florence, 'people never consider +when they mean no.' + +'No, Florence,' said her brother, 'Uncle Mohun's "consider of it" is +equivalent to Le Roi's "avisera."' + +'What is he saying?' asked Lily, turning to listen. 'Oh, that my wig +is in no ball-going condition.' + +'A wreath would hide all deficiencies,' said Florence; 'I am +determined to have you both.' + +'I give small hopes of both,' said Claude; 'you will only have +Emily.' + +'Why do you think so, Claude?' cried both Florence and Lilias. + +'From my own observation,' Claude answered, gravely. + +'I am very angry with the Baron,' said Lord Rotherwood; 'he is grown +inhospitable: he will not let me come here to-morrow--the first +Christmas these five years that I have missed paying my respects to +the New Court sirloin and turkey. It is too bad--and the Westons +dining here too.' + +'Cousin Turkey-cock, well may you be in a passion,' muttered Claude, +as if in soliloquy. + +Lord Rotherwood and Lilias both caught the sound, and laughed, but +Emily, unwilling that Florence should see what liberties they took +with her brother, asked quickly why he was not to come. + +'I think we are much obliged to him,' said Florence, 'it would be too +bad to leave mamma and me to spend our Christmas alone, when we came +to the castle on purpose to oblige him.' + +'Ay, and he says he will not let me come here, because I ought to +give the Hetherington people ocular demonstration that I go to +church,' said Lord Rotherwood. + +'Very right, as Eleanor would say,' observed Claude. + +'Very likely; but I don't care for the Hetherington folks; they do +not know how to make the holly in the church fit to be seen, and they +will not sing the good old Christmas carols. Andrew Grey is worth +all the Hetherington choir put together.' + +'Possibly; but how are they to mend, if their Marquis contents +himself with despising them?' said Claude. + +'That is too bad, Claude. When you heard how submissively I listened +to the Baron, and know I mean to abide by what he said, you ought to +condole with me a little, if you have not the grace to lament my +absence on your own account. Why, I thought myself as regular a part +of the feast as the mince-pies, and almost as necessary.' + +Here a request for some music put an end to his lamentations. Lilias +was vexed by the uncertainty about the ball, and was, besides, too +tired to play with spirit. She saw that Emily was annoyed, and she +felt ready to cry before the evening was over; but still she was +proud of her exploit, and when, after the party was gone, Emily began +to represent to her the estimate that her aunt was likely to form of +her character, she replied, 'If she thinks the worse of me for +carrying the broth to those poor old people, I am sure I do not wish +for her good opinion.' + +Mr. Mohun was not propitious when the question of Lily's going to the +ball was pressed upon him. He said that he thought her too young for +gaieties, and, besides, that late hours never agreed with her, and he +advised her to wait for the 30th of July. + +Lilias knew that it was useless to say any more. She was much +disappointed, and at the same time provoked with herself for caring +about such a matter. Her temper was out of order on Christmas Day; +and while she wondered why she could not enjoy the festival as +formerly, with thoughts fitted to the day, she did not examine +herself sufficiently to find out the real cause of her uncomfortable +feelings. + +The clear frost was only cold; the bright sunshine did not rejoice +her; the holly and the mistletoe seemed ill arranged; and none of the +pleasant sights of the day could give her such blitheness as once she +had known. + +She was almost angry when she saw that the Westons had left off their +mourning, declaring that they did not look like themselves; and her +vexation came to a height when she found that Alethea actually +intended to go to the ball with Mrs. Carrington. The excited manner +in which she spoke of it convinced Mr. Mohun that he had acted wisely +in not allowing her to go, since the very idea seemed to turn her +head. + + + +CHAPTER XV: MINOR MISFORTUNES + + + +'Loving she is, and tractable though wild.' + +In a day or two Lady Rotherwood and her daughter called at the New +Court. On this occasion Lilias was employed in as rational and lady- +like a manner as could be desired--in practising her music in the +drawing-room; Emily was reading, and Ada threading beads. + +Lady Rotherwood greeted her nieces very affectionately, gave a double +caress to Adeline, stroked her pretty curls, admired her beadwork, +talked to her about her doll, and then proceeded to invite the whole +family to a Twelfth-Day party, given for their especial benefit. The +little Carringtons and the Weston girls were also to be asked. Emily +and Lilias were eagerly expressing their delight when suddenly a +trampling, like a charge of horse, was heard in the hall; the door +was thrown back, and in rushed Reginald and Phyllis, shouting, 'Such +fun!--the pigs are in the garden!' + +At the sight of their aunt they stopped short, looking aghast, and +certainly those who beheld them partook of their consternation. +Reginald was hot and gloveless; his shoes far from clean; his brown +curls hanging in great disorder from his Scotch cap; his handkerchief +loose; his jacket dusty--but this was no great matter, since, as +Emily said, he was 'only a boy.' His bright open smile, the rough, +yet gentleman-like courtesy of his advance to the Marchioness, his +comical roguish glance at Emily, to see if she was very angry, and to +defy her if she were, and his speedy exit, all greatly amused Lady +Florence, and made up for what there might have been of the wild +schoolboy in his entrance. + +Poor Phyllis had neither the excuse of being a schoolboy nor the +good-humoured fearlessness that freed her brother from embarrassment, +and she stood stock-still, awkward and dismayed, not daring to +advance; longing to join in the pig-chase, yet afraid to run away, +her eyes stretched wide open, her hair streaming into them, her +bonnet awry, her tippet powdered with seeds of hay, her gloves torn +and soiled, the colour of her brown holland apron scarcely +discernible through its various stains, her frock tucked up, her +stockings covered with mud, and without shoes, which she had taken +off at the door. + +'Phyllis,' said Emily, 'what are you thinking of? What makes you +such a figure? Come and speak to Aunt Rotherwood.' + +Phyllis drew off her left-hand glove, and held out her hand, making a +few sidelong steps towards her aunt, who gave her a rather reluctant +kiss. Lily bent her bonnet into shape, and pulled down her frock, +while Florence laughed, patted her cheek, and asked what she had been +doing. + +'Helping Redgie to chop turnips,' was the answer. + +Afraid of some further exposure, Emily hastily sent her away to be +made fit to be seen, and Lady Rotherwood went on caressing Ada and +talking of something else. Emily had no opportunity of explaining +that this was not Phyllis's usual condition, and she was afraid that +Lady Rotherwood would never believe that it was accidental. She was +much annoyed, especially as the catastrophe only served to divert Mr. +Mohun and Claude. Of all the family William and Adeline alone took +her view of the case. Ada lectured Phyllis on her 'naughtiness,' and +plumed herself on her aunt's evident preference, but William was not +equally sympathetic. He was indeed as fastidious as Emily herself, +and as much annoyed by such misadventures; but he maintained that she +was to blame for them, saying that the state of things was not such +as it should be, and that the exposure might be advantageous if it +put her on her guard in future. + +It appeared as if poor Phyllis was to be punished for the vexation +which she had caused, for in the course of her adventures with +Reginald she caught a cold, which threatened to prevent her from +being of the party on Twelfth-Day. She had a cough, which did not +give her by any means as much inconvenience as the noise it +occasioned did to other people. Every morning and every evening she +anxiously asked her sisters whether they thought she would be allowed +to go. Another of the party seemed likely to fail. On the 5th of +January Claude came down to breakfast later even than usual; but he +had no occasion to make excuses, for his heavy eyes, the dark lines +under them, his pale cheeks, and the very sit of his hair, were sure +signs that he had a violent headache. He soon betook himself to the +sofa in the drawing-room, attended by Lily, with pillows, cushions, +ether, and lavender. Late in the afternoon the pain diminished a +little, and he fell asleep, to the great joy of his sister, who sat +watching him, scarcely daring to move. + +Suddenly a frightful scream and loud crash was heard in the room +above them. Claude started up, and Lily, exclaiming, 'Those tiresome +children!' hurried to the room whence the noise had come. + +Reginald, Phyllis, and Ada, all stood there laughing. Reginald and +Phyllis had been climbing to the top of a great wardrobe, by means of +a ladder of chairs and tables. While Phyllis was descending her +brother had made some demonstration that startled her, and she fell +with all the chairs over her, but without hurting herself. + +'You naughty troublesome child,' cried Lily, in no gentle tone. 'How +often have you been told to leave off such boyish tricks! And you +choose the very place for disturbing poor Claude, with his bad +headache, making it worse than ever.' + +Phyllis tried to speak, but only succeeded in giving a dismal howl. +She went on screaming, sobbing, and roaring so loud that she could +not hear Lily's attempts to quiet her. The next minute Claude +appeared, looking half distracted. Reginald ran off, and as he +dashed out of the room, came full against William, who caught hold of +him, calling out to know what was the matter. + +'Only Phyllis screaming,' said Lily. 'Oh, Claude, I am very sorry!' + +'Is that all?' said Claude. 'I thought some one was half killed!' + +He sank into a chair, pressing his hand on his temples, and looking +very faint. William supported him, and Lily stood by, repeating, 'I +am very sorry--it was all my fault--my scolding--' + +'Hush,' said William, 'you have done mischief enough. Go away, +children.' + +Phyllis had already gone, and the next moment thrust into Lily's hand +the first of the medicaments which she had found in the drawing-room. +The faintness soon went off, but Claude thought he had better not +struggle against the headache any longer, but go to bed, in hopes of +being better the next day. William went with him to his room, and +Lilias lingered on the stairs, very humble, and very wretched. +William soon came forth again, and asked the meaning of the uproar. + +'It was all my fault,' said she; 'I was vexed at Claude's being +waked, and that made me speak sharply to Phyllis, and set her +roaring.' + +'I do not know which is the most inconsiderate of you,' said William. + +'You cannot blame me more than I deserve,' said Lily. 'May I go to +poor Claude?' + +'I suppose so; but I do not see what good you are to do. Quiet is +the only thing for him.' + +Lily, however, went, and Claude gave her to understand that he liked +her to stay with him. She arranged his blinds and curtains +comfortably, and then sat down to watch him. William went to the +drawing-room to write a letter. Just as he had sat down he heard a +strange noise, a sound of sobbing, which seemed to come from the +corner where the library steps stood. Looking behind them, he beheld +Phyllis curled up, her head on her knees, crying bitterly. + +'You there! Come out. What is the matter now?' + +'I am so very sorry,' sighed she. + +'Well, leave off crying.' She would willingly have obeyed, but her +sobs were beyond her own control; and he went on, 'If you are sorry, +there is no more to be said. I hope it will be a lesson to you +another time. You are quite old enough to have more consideration +for other people.' + +'I am very sorry,' again said Phyllis, in a mournful note. + +'Be sorry, only do not roar. You make that noise from habit, I am +convinced, and you may break yourself off it if you choose.' + +Phyllis crept out of the room, and in a few minutes more the door was +softly opened by Emily, returning from her walk. + +'I thought Claude was here. Is he gone to bed? Is his head worse?' + +'Yes, the children have been doing their best to distract him. +Emily, I want to know why it is that those children are for ever in +mischief and yelling in all parts of the house.' + +'I wish I could help it,' said Emily, with a sigh; 'they are very +troublesome.' + +'There must be great mismanagement,' said her brother. + +'Oh, William! Why do you think so?' + +'Other children do not go on in this way, and it was not so in +Eleanor's time.' + +'It is only Phyllis,' said Emily. + +'Phyllis or not, it ought not to be. What will that child grow up, +if you let her be always running wild with the boys?' + +'Consider, William, that you see us at a disadvantage; we are all +unsettled by this illness, and the children have been from home.' + +'As if they learnt all these wild tricks at Broomhill! That excuse +will not do, Emily.' + +'And then they are always worse in the holidays,' pleaded Emily. + +'Yes, there are reasons to be found for everything that goes wrong; +but if you were wise you would look deeper. Now, Emily, I do not +wish to be hard upon you, for I know you are in a very difficult +position, and very young for such a charge, but I am sure you might +manage better. I do not think you use your energies. There is no +activity, nor regularity, nor method, about this household. I +believe that my father sees that this is the case, but it is not his +habit to find fault with little things. You may think that, +therefore, I need not interfere, but--' + +'Oh, William! I am glad--' + +'But remember that comfort is made up of little things. And, Emily, +when you consider how much my father has suffered, and how desolate +his home must be at the best, I think you will be inclined to exert +yourself to prevent him from being anxious about the children or +harassed by your negligence.' + +'Indeed, William,' returned Emily, with many tears, 'it is my most +earnest wish to make him comfortable. Thank you for what you have +said. Now that I am stronger, I hope to do more, and I will really +do my best.' + +At this moment Emily was sincere; but the good impulse of one instant +was not likely to endure against long cherished habits of selfish +apathy. + +Claude did not appear again till the middle of the next day. His +headache was nearly gone, but he was so languid that he gave up all +thoughts of Devereux Castle that evening. Lord Rotherwood, who +always seemed to know what was going on at Beechcroft, came to +inquire for him, and very unwillingly allowed that it would be better +for him to stay at home. Lilias wished to remain with him; but this +her cousin would not permit, saying that he could not consent to lose +three of the party, and Florence would be disappointed in all her +plans. Neither would Claude hear of keeping her at home, and she was +obliged to satisfy herself with putting his arm-chair in his +favourite corner by the fire, with the little table before it, +supplied with books, newspaper, inkstand, paper-knife, and all the +new periodicals, and he declared that he should enjoy the height of +luxury. + +Phyllis considered it to be entirely her fault that he could not go, +and was too much grieved on that account to have many regrets to +spare for herself. She enjoyed seeing Adeline dressed, and hearing +Esther's admiration of her. And having seen the party set off, she +made her way into the drawing-room, opening the door as gently as +possible, just wide enough to admit her little person, then shutting +it as if she was afraid of hurting it, she crept across the room on +tiptoe. She started when Claude looked up and said, 'Why, Phyl, I +have not seen you to-day.' + +'Good morning,' she mumbled, advancing in her sidelong way. + +Claude suspected that she had been more blamed the day before than +the occasion called for, and wishing to make amends he kissed her, +and said something good-natured about spending the evening together. + +Phyllis, a little reassured, went to her own occupations. She took +out a large heavy volume, laid it on the window-seat, and began to +read. Claude was interested in his own book, and did not look up +till the light failed him. He then, closing his book, gave a long +yawn, and looked round for his little companion, almost thinking, +from the stillness of the room, that she must have gone to seek for +amusement in the nursery. + +She was, however, still kneeling against the window-seat, her elbows +planted on the great folio, and her head between her hands, reading +intently. + +'Little Madam,' said he, 'what great book have you got there?' + +'As You Like It,' said Phyllis. + +'What! are you promoted to reading Shakspeare?' + +'I have not read any but this,' said Phyllis. 'Ada and I have often +looked at the pictures, and I liked the poor wounded stag coming down +to the water so much, that I read about it, and then I went on. Was +it wrong, Claude? no one ever told me not.' + +'You are welcome to read it,' said Claude, 'but not now--it is too +dark. Come and sit in the great chair on the other side of the fire, +and be sociable. And what do you think of 'As You Like It?'' + +'I like it very much,' answered Phyllis, 'only I cannot think why +Jacks did not go to the poor stag, and try to cure it, when he saw +its tears running into the water.' + +To save the character of Jacks, Claude gravely suggested the +difficulty of catching the stag, and then asked Phyllis her opinion +of the heroines. + +'Oh! it was very funny about Rosalind dressing like a man, and then +being ready to cry like a girl when she was tired, and then +pretending to pretend to be herself; and Celia, it was very kind of +her to go away with Rosalind; but I should have liked her better if +she had stayed at home, and persuaded her father to let Rosalind stay +too. I am sure she would if she had been like Ada. Then it is so +nice about Old Adam and Orlando. Do not you think so, Claude? It is +just what I am sure Wat Greenwood would do for Redgie, if he was to +be turned out like Orlando.' + +'It is just what Wat Greenwood's ancestor did for Sir Maurice Mohun,' +said Claude. + +'Yes, Dame Greenwood tells us that story.' + +'Well, Phyl, I think you show very good taste in liking the scene +between Orlando and Adam.' + +'I am glad you like it, too, Claude. But I will tell you what I like +best,' exclaimed the little girl, springing up, 'I do like it, when +Orlando killed the lioness and the snake,--and saved Oliver; how glad +he must have been.' + +'Glad to have done good to his enemy,' said Claude; 'yes, indeed.' + +'His enemy! he was his brother, you know. I meant it must be so very +nice to save anybody--don't you think so, Claude?' + +'Certainly.' + +'Claude, do you know there is nothing I wish so much as to save +somebody's life. It was very nice to save the dragon-fly; and it is +very nice to let flies out of spiders' webs, only they always have +their legs and wings torn, and look miserable; and it was very nice +to put the poor little thrushes back into their nest when they +tumbled out, and then to see their mother come to feed them; and it +was very pleasant to help the poor goose that had put its head +through the pales, and could not get it back. Mrs. Harrington said +it would have been strangled if I had not helped it. That was very +nice, but how delightful it would be to save some real human person's +life.' + +Claude did not laugh at the odd medley in her speech, but answered, +'Well, those little things train you in readiness and kindness.' + +'Will they?' said Phyllis, pressing on to express what had long been +her earnest wish. 'If I could but save some one, I should not mind +being killed myself--I think not--I hope it is not naughty to say so. +I believe there is something in the Bible about it, about laying down +one's life for one's friend.' + +'There is, Phyl, and I quite agree with you; it must be a great +blessing to have saved some one.' + +'And little girls have sometimes done it, Claude. I know a story of +one who saved her little brother from drowning, and another waked the +people when the house was on fire. And when I was at Broomhill, +Marianne showed me a story of a young lady who helped to save the +Prince, that Prince Charlie that Miss Weston sings about. I wish the +Prince of Wales would get into some misfortune--I should like to save +him.' + +'I do not quite echo that loyal wish,' said Claude. + +'Well, but, Claude, Redgie wishes for a rebellion, like Sir +Maurice's, for he says all the boys at his school would be one +regiment, in green velvet coats, and white feathers in their hats.' + +'Indeed! and Redgie to be Field Marshal?' + +'No, he is to be Sir Reginald Mohun, a Knight of the Garter, and to +ask the Queen to give William back the title of Baron of Beechcroft, +and make papa a Duke.' + +'Well done! he is to take good care of the interests of the family.' + +'But it is not that that I should care about,' said Phyllis. 'I +should like it better for the feeling in one's own self; I think all +that fuss would rather spoil it--don't you, Claude?' + +'Indeed, I do; but Phyllis, if you only wish for that feeling, you +need not look for dangers or rebellions to gain it.' + +'Oh! you mean the feeling that very good people indeed have--people +like Harry--but that I shall never be.' + +'I hope you mean to try, though.' + +'I do try; I wish I was as good as Ada, but I am so naughty and so +noisy that I do not know what to do. Every day when I say my prayers +I think about being quiet, and not idling at my lessons, and +sometimes I do stop in time, and behave better, but sometimes I +forget, and I do not mind what I am about, and my voice gets loud, +and I let the things tumble down and make a noise, and so it was +yesterday.' Here she looked much disposed to cry. + +'No, no, we will not have any crying this evening,' said Claude. 'I +do not think you did me much mischief, my head ached just as much +before.' + +'That was a thing I wanted to ask you about: William says my crying +loud is all habit, and that I must cure myself of it. How does he +mean? Ought I to cry every day to practise doing it without +roaring?' + +'Do you like to begin,' said Claude, laughing; 'shall I beat you or +pinch you?' + +'Oh! it would make your head bad again,' said Phyllis; 'but I wish +you would tell me what he means. When I cry I only think about what +makes me unhappy.' + +'Try never to cry,' said Claude; 'I assure you it is not pleasant to +hear you, even when I have no headache. If you wish to do anything +right, you must learn self-control, and it will be a good beginning +to check yourself when you are going to cry. Do not look melancholy +now. Here comes the tea. Let me see how you will perform as tea- +maker.' + +'I wish the evening would not go away so fast!' + +'And what are we to do after tea? You are queen of the evening.' + +'If you would but tell me a story, Claude.' + +They lingered long over the tea-table, talking and laughing, and when +they had finished, Phyllis discovered with surprise that it was +nearly bedtime. The promised story was not omitted, however, and +Phyllis, sitting on a little footstool at her brother's feet, looked +up eagerly for it. + +'Well, Phyl, I will tell you a true history that I heard from an +officer who had served in the Peninsular War--the war in Spain, you +know.' + +'Yes, with the French, who killed their king. Lily told me.' + +'And the Portuguese were helping us. Just after we had taken the +town of Ciudad Rodrigo, some of the Portuguese soldiers went to find +lodgings for themselves, and, entering a magazine of gunpowder, made +a fire on the floor to dress their food. A most dangerous thing--do +you know why?' + +'The book would be burnt,' said Phyllis. + +'What book, you wise child?' + +'The Magazine; I thought a magazine was one of the paper books that +Maurice is always reading.' + +'Oh!' said Claude, laughing, 'a magazine is a store, and as many +different things are stored in those books, they are called +magazines. A powder magazine is a store of barrels of gunpowder. +Now do you see why it was dangerous to light a fire?' + +'It blows up,' said Phyllis; 'that was the reason why Robinson Crusoe +was afraid of the lightning.' + +'Right, Phyl, and therefore a candle is never allowed to be carried +into a powder magazine, and even nailed shoes are never worn there, +lest they should strike fire. One spark, lighting on a grain of +gunpowder, scattered on the floor, might communicate with the rest, +make it all explode, and spread destruction everywhere. Think in +what fearful peril these reckless men had placed, not only +themselves, but the whole town, and the army. An English officer +chanced to discover them, and what do you think he did?' + +'Told all the people to run away.' + +'How could he have told every one, soldiers, inhabitants, and all? +where could they have gone? No, he raised no alarm, but he ordered +the Portuguese out of the building, and with the help of an English +sergeant, he carried out, piece by piece, all the wood which they had +set on fire. Now, imagine what that must have been. An explosion +might happen at any moment, yet they had to walk steadily, slowly, +and with the utmost caution, in and out of this place several times, +lest one spark might fly back.' + +'Then they were saved?' cried Phyllis, breathlessly; 'and what became +of them afterwards?' + +'They were both killed in battle, the officer, I believe, in Badajoz, +and the sergeant sometime afterwards.' + +Phyllis gave a deep sigh, and sat silent for some minutes. Next, +Claude began a droll Irish fairy-tale, which he told with spirit and +humour, such as some people would have scorned to exert for the +amusement of a mere child. Phyllis laughed, and was so happy, that +when suddenly they heard the sound of wheels, she started up, +wondering what brought the others home so soon, and was still more +surprised when Claude told her it was past ten. + +'Oh dear! what will papa and Emily say to me for being up still? But +I will stay now, it would not be fair to pretend to be gone to bed.' + +'Well said, honest Phyl; now for the news from the castle.' + +'Why, Claude,' said his eldest brother, entering, 'you are alive +again.' + +'I doubt whether your evening could have been pleasanter than ours,' +said Claude. + +'Phyl,' cried Ada, 'do you know, Mary Carrington's governess thought +I was Florence's sister.' + +'You look so bright, Claude,' said Jane, 'I think you must have taken +Cinderella's friend with the pumpkin to enliven you.' + +'My fairy was certainly sister to a Brownie,' said Claude, stroking +Phyllis's hair. + +'Claude,' again began Ada, 'Miss Car--' + +'I wish Cinderella's fairy may be forthcoming the day of the ball,' +said Lily, disconsolately. + +'And William is going after all,' said Emily. + +'Indeed! has the great Captain relented?' + +'Yes. Is it not good of him? Aunt Rotherwood is so much pleased +that he consents to go entirely to oblige her.' + +'Sensible of his condescension,' said Claude. 'By the bye, what +makes the Baron look so mischievous?' + +'Mischievous!' said Emily, looking round with a start, 'he is looking +very comical, and so he has been all the evening.' + +'What? You thought mischievous was meant in Hannah's sense, when she +complains of Master Reginald being very mischie-vi-ous.' + +Ada now succeeded in saying, 'The Carringtons' governess called me +Lady Ada.' + +'How could she bring herself to utter so horrid a sound?' said +Claude. + +'Ada is more cock-a-hoop than ever now,' said Reginald; 'she does not +think Miss Weston good enough to speak to.' + +'But, Claude, she really did, she thought I was Florence's sister, +and she said I was just like her.' + +'I wish you would hold your tongue, or go to bed,' said William, 'I +have heard nothing but this nonsense all the way home.' + +While William was sending off Ada to bed, and Phyllis was departing +with her, Lily told Claude that the Captain had been most agreeable. +'I feared,' said she, 'that he would be too grand for this party, but +he was particularly entertaining; Rotherwood was quite eclipsed.' + +'Rotherwood wants Claude to set him off,' said Mr. Mohun. 'Now, +young ladies, reserve the rest of your adventures for the morning.' + +Adeline had full satisfaction in recounting the governess's mistake +to the maids, and in hearing from Esther that it was no wonder, 'for +that she looked more like a born lady than Lady Florence herself!' + +Lilias's fit of petulance about the ball had returned more strongly +than ever; she partly excused herself to her own mind, by fancying +she disliked the thought of the lonely evening she was to spend more +than that of losing the pleasure of the ball. Mr. Mohun would be +absent, conducting Maurice to a new school, and Claude and Reginald +would also be gone. + +Her temper was affected in various ways; she wondered that William +and Emily could like to go--she had thought that Miss Weston was +wiser. Her daily occupations were irksome--she was cross to Phyllis. + +It made her very angry to be accused by the young brothers of making +a fuss, and Claude's silence was equally offensive. It was upon +principle that he said nothing. He knew it was nothing but a +transient attack of silliness, of which she was herself ashamed; but +he was sorry to leave her in that condition, and feared Lady +Rotherwood's coming into the neighbourhood was doing her harm, as +certainly as it was spoiling Ada. The ball day arrived, and it was +marked by a great burst of fretfulness on the part of poor Lilias, +occasioned by so small a matter as the being asked by Emily to write +a letter to Eleanor. Emily was dressing to go to dine at Devereux +Castle when she made the request. + +'What have I to say? I never could write a letter in my life, at +least not to the Duenna--there is no news.' + +'About the boys going to school,' Emily suggested. + +'As if she did not know all about them as well as I can tell her. +She does not care for my news, I see no one to hear gossip from. I +thought you undertook all the formal correspondence, Emily?' + +'Do you call a letter to your sister formal correspondence!' + +'Everything is formal with her. All I can say is, that you and +William are going to the ball, and she will say that is very silly.' + +'Eleanor once went to this Raynham ball; it was her first and last,' +said Emily. + +'Yes, not long before they went to Italy; it will only make her +melancholy to speak of it--I declare I cannot write.' + +'And I have no time,' said Emily, 'and you know how vexed she is if +she does not get her letter every Saturday.' + +'All for the sake of punctuality, nothing else,' said Lily. 'I +rather like to disappoint fidgety people--don't you, Emily?' + +'Well,' said Emily, 'only papa does not like that she should be +disappointed.' + +'You might have written, if you had not dawdled away all the +morning.' + +This was true, and it therefore stung Emily, who complained that Lily +was very unkind. Lily defended herself sharply, and the dispute was +growing vehement, when William happily cut it short by a summons to +Emily to make haste. + +When they were gone Lily had time for reflection. Good-temper was so +common a virtue, and generally cost her so little effort, that she +took no pains to cultivate it, but she now felt she had lost all +claim to be considered amiable under disappointment. It was too late +to bear the privation with a good grace. She was heartily ashamed of +having been so cross about a trifle, and ashamed of being +discontented at Emily's having a pleasure in which she could not +share. Would this have been the case a year ago? She was afraid to +ask herself the question, and without going deep enough into the +history of her own mind to make her sorrow and shame profitable, she +tried to satisfy herself with a superficial compensation, by making +herself particularly agreeable to her three younger sisters, and by +writing a very long and entertaining letter to Eleanor. + +She met Emily with a cheerful face the next day, and listened with +pleasure to her history of the ball; and when Mr. Mohun returned home +he saw that the cloud had passed away. But, alas! Lilias neglected +to take the only means of preventing its recurrence. + +The next week William departed. Before he went he gave his sisters +great pleasure by desiring them to write to him, and not to let him +fall into his ancient state of ignorance respecting the affairs of +Beechcroft. + +'Mind,' was his farewell speech, 'I expect you to keep me au courant +du jour. I will not be in the dark about your best friends and +neighbours when I come home next July.' + + + +CHAPTER XVI--VANITY AND VEXATION + + + +'And still I have to tell the same sad tale +Of wasted energies, and idle dreams.' + +Devereux Castle now became the great resort of the Miss Mohuns. They +were always sure of a welcome there. Lady Rotherwood liked to +patronise them, and Florence was glad of their society. + +This was quite according to the wishes of Emily, who now had nothing +left to desire, but that the style of dress suitable, in her opinion, +to the granddaughter of the Marquis of Rotherwood, was more in +accordance with the purse of the daughter of the Esquire of +Beechcroft. It was no part of Emily's character to care for dress. +She was at once too indolent and too sensible; she saw the vulgarity +of finery, and only aimed at simplicity and elegance. During their +girlhood Emily and Lilias had had no more concern with their clothes +than with their food; Eleanor had carefully taught them plain +needlework, and they had assisted in making more than one set of +shirts; but they had nothing to do with the choice or fashion of +their own apparel. They were always dressed alike, and in as plain +and childish a manner as they could be, consistently with their +station. On Eleanor's marriage a suitable allowance was given to +each of them, in order that they might provide their own clothes, and +until Rachel left them they easily kept themselves in very good trim. +When Esther came Lily cheerfully took the trouble of her own small +decorations, considering it as her payment for the pleasure of having +Esther in the house. Emily, however, neglected the useful 'stitch in +time,' till even 'nine' were unavailing. She soon found herself +compelled to buy new ready-made articles, and expected Lilias to do +the same. But Lilias demurred, for she was too wise to think it +necessary to ruin herself in company with Emily, and thus the two +sisters were no longer dressed alike. A constant fear tormented +Emily lest she should disgrace Lady Rotherwood, or be considered by +some stranger as merely a poor relation of the great people, and not +as the daughter of the gentleman of the oldest family in the county. +She was, therefore, anxious to be perfectly fashionable, and not to +wear the same things too often, and in her disinterested desire to +maintain the dignity of the family the allowance which she received +at Christmas melted away in her hands. + +Lily, though exempt from this folly, was not in a satisfactory state +of mind. She was drawn off from her duties by a kind of spell. It +was not that she liked Florence's society better than her home +pursuits. + +Florence was indeed a very sweet-tempered and engaging creature; but +her mind was not equal to that of Lilias, and there was none of the +pleasure of relying upon her, and looking up to her, which Lilias had +learnt to enjoy in the company of her brother Claude, and of Alethea +Weston. It was only that Lily's own mind had been turned away from +her former occupations, and that she did not like to resume them. +She had often promised herself to return to her really useful +studies, and her positive duties, as soon as her brothers were gone; +but day after day passed and nothing was done, though her visits to +the cottages and her lessons to Phyllis were often neglected. Her +calls at Devereux Castle took up many afternoons. Florence +continually lent her amusing books, her aunt took great interest in +her music, and she spent much time in practising. The mornings were +cold and dark, and she could not rise early, and thus her time +slipped away, she knew not how, uselessly and unsatisfactorily. The +three younger ones were left more to themselves, and to the maids. +Jane sought for amusement in village gossip, and the little ones, +finding the nursery more agreeable than the deserted drawing-room, +made Esther their companion. + +Mr. Mohun had, at this time, an unusual quantity of business on his +hands; he saw that the girls were not going on well, but he had +reasons for not interfering at present, and he looked forward to +Eleanor's visit as the conclusion of their trial. + +'I cannot think,' said Marianne Weston one day to her sister, 'why +Mr. Mohun comes here so often.' + +Alethea told her he had some business with their mamma, and she +thought no more of the matter, till she was one day questioned by +Jane. She was rather afraid of Jane, who, as she thought, disliked +her, and wished to turn her into ridicule; so it was with no +satisfaction that she found herself separated from the others in the +course of a walk, and submitted to a cross-examination. + +Jane asked, in a mysterious manner, who had been at Broomhill that +morning. + +'Mr. Mohun,' said Marianne. + +'What did he go there for?' said Jane. + +'Alethea says he has some business with mamma.' + +'Then you did not hear what it was?' + +'I was not in the room.' + +'Are you never there when he comes?' + +'Sometimes.' + +'And is Alethea there?' + +'Oh yes!' + +'His business must be with her too. Cannot you guess it?' + +'No,' said Marianne, looking amazed. + +'How can you be so slow?' + +'I am not sure that I would guess if I could,' said Marianne, 'for I +do not think they wish me to know.' + +'Oh! nonsense, it is fine fun to find out secrets,' said Jane. 'You +will know it at last, you may be sure, so there can be no harm in +making it out beforehand, so as to have the pleasure of triumph when +the wise people vouchsafe to admit you into their confidence; I am +sure I know it all.' + +'Then please do not tell me, Jane, I ought not to hear it.' + +'Little Mrs. Propriety,' said Jane, 'you are already assuming all the +dignity of my Aunt Marianne, and William's Aunt Marianne--oh! and of +little Henry's Great-aunt Marianne. Now,' she added, laughing, 'can +you guess the secret?' + +Marianne stood still in amazement for a moment, and then exclaimed, +'Jane, Jane! you do not mean it, you are only trying to tease me.' + +'I am quite serious,' said Jane. 'You will see that I am right.' + +Here they were interrupted, and as soon as she returned from her walk +Marianne, perplexed and amazed, went to her mother, and told her all +that Jane had said. + +'How can she be so silly?' said Mrs. Weston. + +'Then it is all nonsense, as I thought,' said Marianne, joyfully. 'I +should not like Alethea to marry an old man.' + +'Mr. Mohun is very unlikely to make himself ridiculous,' said Mrs. +Weston. 'Do not say anything of it to Alethea; it would only make +her uncomfortable.' + +'If it had been Captain Mohun, now --' Marianne stopped, and blushed, +finding her speech unanswered. + +A few days after, Mr. Mohun overtook Marianne and her mother, as he +was riding home from Raynham, and dismounting, led his horse, and +walked on with them. Either not perceiving Marianne, or not caring +whether she heard him, he said, + +'Has Miss Weston received the letter she expected?' + +'No,' said Mrs. Weston, 'she thinks, as there is no answer, the +family must be gone abroad, and very probably they have taken Miss +Aylmer with them; but she has written to another friend to ask about +them.' + +'From all I hear,' said Mr. Mohun, 'I should prefer waiting to hear +from her, before we make further inquiries; we shall not be ready +before midsummer, as I should wish my eldest daughter to assist me in +making this important decision.' + +'In that case,' said Mrs. Weston, 'there will be plenty of time to +communicate with her. I can see some of the friends of the family +when I go to London, for we must not leave Mr. Weston in solitude +another spring.' + +'Perhaps I shall see you there,' said Mr. Mohun. 'I have some +business in London, and I think I shall meet the Hawkesworths there +in May or June.' + +After a little more conversation Mr. Mohun took his leave, and as +soon as he had ridden on, Marianne said, 'Oh! mamma, I could not help +hearing.' + +'My dear,' said Mrs. Weston, 'I know you may be trusted; but I should +not have told you, as you may find such a secret embarrassing when +you are with your young friends.' + +'And so they are to have a governess?' + +'Yes; and we are trying to find Miss Aylmer for them.' + +'Miss Aylmer! I am glad of it; how much Phyllis and Ada will like +her!' + +'Yes, it will be very good for them; I wish I knew the Grants' +direction.' + +'Well, I hope Jane will not question me any more; it will be very +difficult to manage, now I know the truth.' + +But poor Marianne was not to escape. Jane was on the watch to find +her alone, and as soon as an opportunity offered, she began:- + +'Well, auntie, any discoveries?' + +'Indeed, Jane, it is not right to fancy Mr. Mohun can do anything so +absurd.' + +'That is as people may think,' said Jane. + +'I wish you would not talk in that way,' said Marianne. + +'Now, Marianne,' pursued the tormentor, 'if you can explain the +mystery I will believe you, otherwise I know what to think.' + +'I am certain you are wrong, Jane; but I can tell you no more.' + +'Very well, my good aunt, I am satisfied.' + +Jane really almost persuaded herself that she was right, as she +perceived that her father was always promoting intercourse with the +Westons, and took pleasure in conversing with Alethea. She twisted +everything into a confirmation of her idea; while the prospect of +having Miss Weston for a stepmother increased her former dislike; but +she kept her suspicions to herself for the present, triumphing in the +idea that, when the time came, she could bring Marianne as a witness +of her penetration. + +The intercourse between the elder Miss Mohuns and Miss Weston was, +however, not so frequent as formerly; and Alethea herself could not +but remark that, while Mr. Mohun seemed to desire to become more +intimate, his daughters were more backward in making appointments +with her. This was chiefly remarkable in Emily and Jane. Lilias was +the same in openness, earnestness, and affection; but there was +either a languor about her spirits or they were too much excited, and +her talk was more of novels, and less of poor children than formerly. +The constant visits to Devereux Castle prevented Emily and Lilias +from being as often as before at church, and thus they lost many +walks and talks that they used to enjoy in the way home. Marianne +began to grow indignant, especially on one occasion, when Emily and +Lily went out for a drive with Lady Rotherwood, forgetting that they +had engaged to take a walk with the Westons that afternoon. + +'It is really a great deal too bad,' said she to Alethea; 'it is +exactly what we have read of in books about grandeur making people +cast off their old friends.' + +'Do not be unfair, Marianne,' said Alethea. 'Lady Florence has a +better right to--' + +'Better right!' exclaimed Marianne. 'What, because she is a +marquis's daughter?' + +'Because she is their cousin.' + +'I do not believe Lilias really cares for her half as much as for +you,' said Marianne. 'It is all because they are fine people.' + +'Nay, Marianne, if our cousins were to come into this neighbourhood, +we should not be as dependent on the Mohuns as we now feel.' + +'I hope we should not break our engagements with them.' + +'Perhaps they could not help it. When their aunt came to fetch them, +knowing how seldom they can have the carriage, it would have been +scarcely civil to say that they had rather take a walk with people +they can see any day.' + +'Last year Lilias would have let Emily go by herself,' said Marianne. +'Alethea, they are all different since that Lady Rotherwood came--all +except Phyl. Ada is a great deal more conceited than she was when +she was staying here; she pulls out her curls, and looks in the glass +much more, and she is always talking about some one having taken her +for Lady Florence's sister. And, Alethea, just fancy, she does not +like me to go through a gate before her, because she says she has +precedence!' + +Alethea was much amused, but she would not let Marianne condemn the +whole family for Ada's folly. 'It will all come right,' said she, +'let us be patient and good-humoured, and nothing can be really +wrong.' + +Though Alethea made the best of it to her sister, she could not but +feel hurt, and would have been much more so if her temper had been +jealous or sentimental. Almost in spite of herself she had bestowed +upon Lilias no small share of her affection, and she would have been +more pained by her neglect if she had not partaken of that spirit +which 'thinketh no evil, but beareth all things, believeth all +things, hopeth all things, and endureth all things.' + +Lilias was not satisfied with either herself, her home, her sisters, +or her school; she was far from being the fresh, happy creature that +she had been the year before. She had seen the fallacy of her +principle of love, but in her self-willed adherence to it she had +lost the strong sense and habit of duty which had once ruled her; and +in a vague and restless frame of mind, she merely sought from day to +day for pleasure and idle occupation. Lent came, but she was not +roused, she was only more uncomfortable when she saw the Rector, or +Alethea, or went to church. Alethea's unfailing gentleness she felt +almost as a rebuke; and Mr. Devereux, though always kind and good- +natured, had ceased to speak to her of those small village matters in +which she used to be prime counsellor. + +The school became a burthen instead of a delight, and her attendance +there a fatigue. On going in one Sunday morning, very late, she +found Alethea teaching her class as well as her own. With a look of +vexation she inquired, as she took her place, if it was so very late, +and on the way to church she said again, 'I thought I was quite in +time; I do not like to hurry the children--the distant ones have not +time to come. It was only half-past nine.' + +'Oh, Lilias,' said Marianne, 'it was twenty minutes to ten, I know, +for I had just looked at the clock.' + +'That clock is always too fast,' said Lily. + +The next Sunday was very cold, and Lilias did not feel at all +disposed to leave the fire when the others prepared to go to the +afternoon school. + +'Is it time?' said she. 'I was chilled at church, and my feet are +still like ice; I will follow you in five minutes.' + +Alethea went, and Lilias lingered by the fire. Mrs. Weston once +asked her if she knew how late it was; but still she waited, until +she was startled by the sound of the bell for evening service. As +she went to church with Mrs. Weston and Emily she met Jane, who told +her that her class had been unemployed all the afternoon. + +'I would have taken them,' said she, 'but that Robert does not like +me to teach the great girls, and I do think Alethea might have heard +them.' + +'It is very provoking,' said Lily, pettishly; 'I thought I might +depend--' She turned and saw Miss Weston close to her. 'Oh, +Alethea!' said she, 'I thought you would have heard those girls.' + +'I thought you were coming,' said Alethea. + +'So I was, but I am sure the bell rang too early. I do wish you had +taken them, Alethea.' + +'I am sorry you are vexed,' said Alethea, simply. + +'What makes you think I am vexed? I only thought you liked hearing +my class.' + +They were by this time at the church door, and as they entered +Alethea blamed herself for feeling grieved, and Lily awoke to a sense +of her unreasonableness. She longed to tell Alethea how sorry she +felt, but she had no opportunity, and she resolved to go to Broomhill +the next day to make her confession. In the night, however, snow +began to fall, and the morning showed the February scene of thawing +snow and pouring rain. Going out was impossible, both on that day +and the next. Wednesday dawned fair and bright; but just after +breakfast Lily received a little note, with the intelligence that Mr. +Weston had arrived at Broomhill on Monday evening, and with his wife +and daughters was to set off that very day to make a visit to some +friends on the way to London. Had not the weather been so bad, +Alethea said she should have come to take leave of her New Court +friends on Tuesday, but she could now only send this note to tell +them how sorry she was to go without seeing them, and to beg Emily to +send back a piece of music which she had lent to her. The messenger +was Faith Longley, who was to accompany them, and who now was going +home to take leave of her mother, and would call again for the music +in a quarter of an hour. Lily ran to ask her when they were to go. +'At eleven,' was the answer; and Lily telling her she need not call +again, as she herself would bring the music, went to look for it. +High and low did she seek, and so did Jane, but it was not to be +found in any nook, likely or unlikely; and when at last Lily, in +despair, gave up the attempt to find it, it was already a quarter to +eleven. Emily sent many apologies and civil messages, and Lily set +out at a rapid pace to walk to Broomhill by the road, for the thaw +had rendered the fields impassable. Fast as she walked, she was too +late. She had the mortification of seeing the carriage turn out at +the gates, and take the Raynham road; she was not even seen, nor had +she a wave of the hand, or a smile to comfort her. + +Almost crying with vexation, she walked home, and sat down to write +to Alethea, but, alas! she did not know where to direct a letter. +Bitterly did she repent of the burst of ill-temper which had stained +her last meeting with her friend, and she was scarcely comforted even +by the long and affectionate letter which she received a week after +their departure. Kindness from her was now forgiveness; never did +she so strongly feel Florence's inferiority; and she wondered at +herself for having sought her society so much as to neglect her +patient and superior friend. She became careless and indifferent to +Florence, and yet she went on in her former course, following Emily, +and fancying that nothing at Beechcroft could interest her in the +absence of her dear Alethea Weston. + + + +CHAPTER XVII: LITTLE AGNES + + + +'O guide us when our faithless hearts + From Thee would start aloof, +Where patience her sweet skill imparts, + Beneath some cottage roof.' + +Palm Sunday brought Lily many regrets. It was the day of the school +prize giving, and she reflected with shame, how much less she knew +about the children than last year, and how little they owed to her; +she feared to think of the approach of Easter Day, a dread which she +had never felt before, and which she knew to be a very bad sign; but +her regret was not repentance--she talked, and laughed, and tried to +feel at ease. Agnes Eden's happy face was the most pleasant sight on +that day. The little girl received a Bible, and as it was given to +her her pale face was coloured with bright pink, her blue eyes +lighted up, her smile was radiant with the beauty of innocence, but +Lily could not look at her without self-reproach. She resolved to +make up for her former neglect by double kindness, and determined +that, at any rate, Passion Week should be properly spent--she would +not once miss going to church. + +But on Monday, when Emily proposed to ride to Devereux Castle, she +assented, only saying that they would return for evening service. +She took care to remind her sister when it was time to set out +homewards; but Emily was, as usual, so long in taking her leave that +it was too late to think of going to church when they set off. + +About two miles from Beechcroft Lily saw a little figure in a gray +cloak trudging steadily along the road, and as she came nearer she +recognised Kezia Grey. She stopped and asked the child what brought +her so far from home. + +'I am going for the doctor, Miss,' said the child. + +'Is your mother worse?' asked Lily. + +'Mother is pretty well,' said Kezia; 'but it is for Agnes Eden, Miss- +-she is terrible bad.' + +'Poor little Agnes!' exclaimed Lily. 'Why, she was at school +yesterday.' + +'Yes, Miss, but she was taken bad last night.' + +After a moment's consultation between the sisters, Kezia was told +that she might return home, and the servant who accompanied the Miss +Mohuns was sent to Raynham for the doctor. The next afternoon Lily +was just setting out to inquire for Agnes when Lord Rotherwood +arrived at the New Court with his sister. He wanted to show Florence +some of his favourite haunts at Beechcroft, and had brought her to +join his cousins in their walk. A very pleasant expedition they +made, but it led them so far from home that the church bell was heard +pealing over the woods far in the distance. Lily could not go to +Mrs. Eden's cottage, because she did not know the nature of Agnes's +complaint, and her aunt could not bear that Florence should go into +any house where there was illness. In the course of the walk, +however, she met Kezia, on her way to the New Court, to ask for a +blister for Agnes, the doctor having advised Mrs. Eden to apply to +the Miss Mohuns for one, as it was wanted quickly, and it was too far +to send to Raynham. Lily promised to send the blister as soon as +possible, and desired the little messenger to return home, where she +was much wanted, to help her mother, who had a baby of less than a +week old. + +Alas! in the mirth and amusement of the evening Lily entirely forgot +the blister, until just as she went to bed, when she made one of her +feeble resolutions to take it, or send it early in the morning. She +only awoke just in time to be ready for breakfast, went downstairs +without one thought of the sick child, and never recollected her, +until at church, just before the Litany, she heard these words: 'The +prayers of the congregation are desired for Agnes Eden.' + +She felt as if she had been shot, and scarcely knew where she was for +several moments. On coming out of church, she stood almost in a +dream, while Emily and Jane were talking to the Rector, who told them +how very ill the child was, and how little hope there was of her +recovery. He took leave of them, and Lily walked home, scarcely +hearing the soothing words with which Emily strove to comfort her. +The meaning passed away mournfully; Lily sat over the fire without +speaking, and without attempting to do anything. In the afternoon +rain came on; but Lily, too unhappy not to be restless, put on her +bonnet and cloak, and went out. + +She walked quickly up the hill, and entered the field where the +cottage stood. There she paused. She did not dare to knock at the +cottage door; she could not bear to speak to Mrs. Eden; she dreaded +the sight of Mrs. Grey or Kezia, and she gazed wistfully at the +house, longing, yet fearing, to know what was passing within it. She +wandered up and down the field, and at last was trying to make up her +mind to return home, when she heard footsteps behind her, and +turning, saw Mr. Devereux advancing along the path at the other end +of the field. + +'Have you been to inquire for Agnes?' said he. + +'I could not. I long to know, but I cannot bear to ask, I cannot +venture in.' + +'Do you like to go in with me?' said her cousin. 'I do not think you +will see anything dreadful.' + +'Thank you,' said Lily, 'I would give anything to know about her.' + +'How you tremble! but you need not be afraid.' + +He knocked at the door, but there was no answer; he opened it, and +going to the foot of the stairs, gently called Mrs. Eden, who came +down calm and quiet as ever, though very pale. + +'How is she?' + +'No better, sir, thank you, light-headed still.' + +'Oh! Mrs. Eden, I am so sorry,' sobbed Lily. 'Oh! can you forgive +me?' + +'Pray do not take on so, Miss,' said Mrs. Eden. 'You have always +been a very kind friend to her, Miss Lilias. Do not take on so, +Miss. If it is His will, nothing could have made any difference.' + +Lily was going to speak again, but Mr. Devereux stopped her, saying, +'We must not keep Mrs. Eden from her, Lily.' + +'Thank you, sir, her aunt is with her,' said Mrs. Eden, 'and no one +is any good there now, she does not know any one. Will you walk up +and see her, sir? will you walk up, Miss Lilias?' + +Lily silently followed her cousin up the narrow stairs to the upper +room, where, in the white-curtained bed, lay the little child, +tossing about and moaning, her cheeks flushed with fever, and her +blue eyes wide open, but unconscious. A woman, whom Lily did not at +first perceive to be Mrs. Naylor, rose and courtsied on their +entrance. Agnes's new Bible was beside her, and her mother told them +that she was not easy if it was out of sight for an instant. + +At this moment Agnes called out, 'Mother,' and Mrs. Eden bent down to +her, but she only repeated, 'Mother' two or three times, and then +began talking: + +'Kissy, I want my bag--where is my thimble--no, not that I can't +remember--my catechism-book--my godfathers and godmothers in my +baptism, wherein I was made a member--my Christian name--my name, it +is my Christian name; no, that is not it - + + +"It is a name by which I am + Writ in the hook of life, +And here below a charm to keep, + Unharmed by sin and strife; +As often as my name I hear, + I hear my Saviour's voice."' + + +Then she began the Creed, but, breaking off, exclaimed, 'Where is my +Bible, mother, I shall read it to-morrow--read that pretty verse +about "I am the good Shepherd--the Lord is my Shepherd, therefore can +I lack nothing--yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow +of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art within me." + + +"I now am of that little flock + Which Christ doth call His own, +For all His sheep He knows by name, + And He of them is known."' + + +'Let us call upon your good Shepherd, Agnes,' said the pastor, and +the child turned her face towards him as if she understood him. +Kneeling down, he repeated the Lord's Prayer, and the feeble voice +followed his. He then read the prayer for a sick child, and left the +room, for he saw that Lily would be quite overcome if she remained +there any longer. Mrs. Eden followed them downstairs, and again +stung poor Lily to the heart by thanks for all her kindness. + +They then left the house of mourning; Lily trembled violently, and +clung to her cousin's arm for support. Her tears streamed fast, but +her sobs were checked by awe at Mrs. Eden's calmness. She felt as if +she had been among the angels. + +'How pale you are!' said her cousin, 'I would not have taken you +there if I thought it would overset you so much. Come into Mrs. +Grey's, and sit down and recover a little.' + +'No, no, do not let me see any one,' said Lily. 'Oh! that dear +child! Robert, let me tell you the worst, for your kindness is more +than I can bear. I promised Agnes a blister and forgot it!' + +She could say no more for some minutes, but her cousin did not speak. +Recovering her voice, she added, 'Only speak to me, Robert.' + +'I am very sorry for you,' answered he, in a kind tone. + +'But tell me, what shall I do?' + +'What to do, you ask,' said the Rector; 'I am not sure that I know +what you mean. If your neglect has added to her sufferings, you +cannot remove them; and I would not add to your sorrow unless you +wished me to do so for your good.' + +'I do not see how I could be more unhappy than I am now,' said Lily. + +'I think if you wish to turn your grief to good account you must go a +little deeper than this omission.' + +'You mean that it is a result of general carelessness,' said Lily; 'I +know I have been in an odd idle way for some time; I have often +resolved, but I seem to have no power over myself.' + +'May I ask you one question, Lily? How have you been spending this +Lent?' + +'Robert, you are right,' cried Lily; 'you may well ask. I know I +have not gone to church properly, but how could you guess the +terrible way in which I have been indulging myself, and excusing +myself every unpleasant duty that came in my way? That was the very +reason of this dreadful neglect; well do I deserve to be miserable at +Easter, the proper time for joy. Oh! how different it will be.' + +'It will be, I hope, an Easter marked by repentance and amendment,' +said the Rector. + +'No, Robert, do not begin to be kind to me yet, you do not know how +very bad I have been,' said Lily; 'it all began from just after +Eleanor's wedding. A mad notion came into my head and laid hold of +me. I fancied Eleanor stern, and cold, and unlovable; I was +ingratitude itself. I made a foolish theory, that regard for duty +makes people cold and stern, and that feeling, which I confused with +Christian love, was all that was worth having, and the more Claude +tried to cure me, the more obstinate I grew; I drew Emily over to my +side, and we set our follies above everything. Justified ourselves +for idling, neglecting the children, indulging ourselves, calling it +love, and so it was, self-love. So my temper has been spoiling, and +my mind getting worse and worse, ever since we lost Eleanor. At last +different things showed me the fallacy of my principle, but then I do +believe I was beyond my own management. I felt wrong, and could not +mend, and went on recklessly. You know but too well what mischief I +have done in the village, but you can never know what harm I have +done at home. I have seen more and more that I was going on badly, +but a sleep, a spell was upon me.' + +'Perhaps the pain you now feel may be the means of breaking the +spell.' + +'But is it not enough to drive me mad to think that improvement in me +should be bought at such a price--the widow's only child?' + +'You forget that the loss is a blessing to her.' + +'Still I may pray that my punishment may not be through them,' said +Lily. + +'Surely,' was the answer, 'it is grievous to see that dear child cut +off; and her patient mother left desolate--yet how much more grievous +it would be to see that spotless innocence defiled.' + +'If it was to fall on any one,' said Lilias, 'I should be thankful +that it is on one so fit to die.' + +The church bell began to ring, and they quickened their steps in +silence. Presently Lily said, 'Tell me of something to do, Robert, +something that may be a pledge that my sorrow is not a passing +shower, something unnecessary, but disagreeable, which may keep me in +remembrance that my Lent was not one of self-denial.' + +'You must be able to find more opportunities of self-denial than I +can devise,' said her cousin. + +'Of course,' said Lily; 'but some one thing, some punishment.' + +'I will answer you to-morrow,' said Mr. Devereux. + +'One thing more,' said Lily, looking down; 'after this great fall, +ought I to come to next Sunday's feast? I would turn away if you +thought fit.' + +'Lily, you can best judge,' said the Rector, kindly. 'I should think +that you were now in a humble, contrite frame, and therefore better +prepared than when self-confident.' + +'How many times! how shall I think of them! but I will,' said Lily; +'and Robert, will you think of me when you say the Absolution now and +next Sunday at the altar?' + +They were by this time at the church-porch. As Mr. Devereux +uncovered his head, he turned to Lilias, and said in a low tone, 'God +bless you, Lilias, and grant you true repentance and pardon.' + +Early the next morning the toll of the passing-bell informed Lily +that the little lamb had been gathered into the heavenly fold. + +When she took her place in church she found in her Prayer-book a slip +of paper in the handwriting of her cousin. It was thus: 'You had +better find out in which duty you have most failed, and let the +fulfilment of that be your proof of self-denial. R. D.' + +Afterwards Lily learnt that Agnes had been sensible for a short time +before her peaceful death. She had spoken much of her baptism, had +begged to be buried next to a little sister of Kezia's, and asked her +mother to give her new Bible to Kezia. + +It was not till Sunday that Lilias felt as if she could ever be +comforted. Her heart was indeed ready to break as she walked at the +head of the school children behind the white-covered coffin, and she +felt as if she did not deserve to dwell upon the child's present +happiness; but afterwards she was relieved by joining in prayer for +the pardon of our sins and negligences, and she felt as if she was +forgiven, at least by man, when she joined with Mrs. Eden in the +appointed feast of Easter Day. + +Mrs. Naylor was at church on that and several following Sundays; but +though her husband now showed every kindness to his sister, he still +obstinately refused to be reconciled to Mr. Devereux. + +For many weeks poor little Kezia looked very unhappy. Her blithe +smiles were gone, her eyes filled with tears whenever she was +reminded of her friend, she walked to school alone, she did not join +the sports of the other children, but she kept close to the side of +Mrs. Eden, and seemed to have no pleasure but with her, or in nursing +her little sister, who, two Sundays after the funeral, was christened +by the name of Agnes. + +It was agreed by Mr. Mohun and Lilias that the grave of the little +girl should be marked by a stone cross, thus inscribed + +'AGNES EDEN, +April 8th, 1846, +Aged 7 years. +"He shall gather the lambs in His arms."' + + + +CHAPTER XVIII: DOUBLE, DOUBLE TOIL AND TROUBLE + + + +'Truly the tender mercies of the weak, +As of the wicked, are but cruel.' + +And how did Lilias show that she had been truly benefited by her +sorrows? Did she fall back into her habits of self-indulgence, or +did she run into ill-directed activity, selfish as her indolence, +because only gratifying the passion of the moment? + +Those who lived with her saw but little change; kind-hearted and +generous she had ever been, and many had been her good impulses, so +that while she daily became more steady in well-doing, and exerting +herself on principle, no one remarked it, and no one entered into the +struggles which it cost her to tame her impetuosity, or force herself +to do what was disagreeable to herself, and might offend Emily. + +However, Emily could forgive a great deal when she found that Lily +was ready to take any part of the business of the household and +schoolroom, which she chose to impose upon her, without the least +objection, yet to leave her to assume as much of the credit of +managing as she chose--to have no will or way of her own, and to help +her to keep her wardrobe in order. + +The schoolroom was just now more of a labour than had ever been the +case, at least to one who, like Lilias, if she did a thing at all, +would not be satisfied with half doing it. Phyllis was not altered, +except that she cried less, and had in a great measure cured herself +of dawdling habits and tricks, by her honest efforts to obey well- +remembered orders of Eleanor's; but still her slowness and dulness +were trying to her teachers, and Lily had often to reproach herself +for being angry with her 'when she was doing her best.' + +But Adeline was Lily's principal trouble; there was a change in her, +for which her sister could not account. Last year, when Eleanor left +them, Ada was a sweet-tempered, affectionate child, docile, gentle, +and, excepting a little occasional affectation and carelessness, very +free from faults; but now her attention could hardly be commanded for +five minutes together; she had lost the habit of ready and implicit +obedience, was petulant when reproved, and was far more eager to +attract notice from strangers--more conceited, and, therefore, more +affected, and, worse than all, Lily sometimes thought she perceived a +little slyness, though she was never able to prove any one instance +completely to herself, much less to bring one before her father. +Thus, if Ada had done any mischief, she would indeed confess it on +being examined; but when asked why she had not told of it directly, +would say she had forgotten; she would avail herself of Phyllis's +assistance in her lessons without acknowledging it, and Lilias found +it was by no means safe to leave the Key to the French Exercises +alone in the room with her. + +Emily's mismanagement had fostered Ada's carelessness and +inattention. Lady Rotherwood's injudicious caresses helped to make +her more affected; other faults had grown up for want of sufficient +control, but this last was principally Esther's work. Esther had +done well at school; she liked learning, was stimulated by notice, +was really attached to Lilias, and tried to deserve her goodwill; but +her training at school and at home were so different, that her +conduct was, even at the best, far too much of eye-service, and she +had very little idea of real truth and sincerity. + +On first coming to the New Court she flattered the children, because +she did not know how to talk to them otherwise, and afterwards, +because she found that Miss Ada's affections were to be gained by +praise. Then, in her ignorant good-nature, she had no scruples about +concealing mischief which the children had done, or procuring for Ada +little forbidden indulgences on her promise of secrecy, a promise +which Phyllis would not give, thus putting a stop to all those in +which she would have participated. It was no wonder that Ada, +sometimes helping Esther to deceive, sometimes deceived by her, +should have learnt the same kind of cunning, and ceased to think it a +matter of course to be true and just in all her dealings. + +But how was it that Phyllis remained the same 'honest Phyl' that she +had ever been, not one word savouring of aught but strict truth +having ever crossed her lips, her thoughts and deeds full of +guileless simplicity? She met with the same temptations, the same +neglect, the same bad example, as her sister; why had they no effect +upon her? In the first place, flattery could not touch her, it was +like water on a duck's back, she did not know that it was flattery, +but so thoroughly humble was her mind that no words of Esther's would +make her believe herself beautiful, agreeable, or clever. Yet she +never found out that Esther over-praised her sister; she admired Ada +so much that she never suspected that any commendation of her was +more than she deserved. Again, Phyllis never thought of making +herself appear to advantage, and her humility saved her from the +habit of concealing small faults, for which she expected no +punishment; and, when seriously to blame, punishment seemed so +natural a consequence, that she never thought of avoiding it, +otherwise than by expressing sorrow for her fault. She was +uninfected by Esther's deceit, though she never suspected any want of +truth; her singleness of mind was a shield from all evil; she knew +she was no favourite in the nursery, but she never expected to be +liked as much as Ada, her pride and glory. In the meantime Emily +went on contriving opportunities and excuses for spending her time at +Devereux Castle, letting everything fall into Lily's hands, +everything that she had so eagerly undertaken little more than a year +ago. And now all was confusion; the excellent order in which Eleanor +had left the household affairs was quite destroyed. Attention to the +storeroom was one of the ways in which Lilias thought that she could +best follow the advice of Mr. Devereux, since Eleanor had always +taught that great exactness in this point was most necessary. Great +disorder now, however, prevailed there, and she found that her only +chance of rectifying it was to measure everything she found there, +and to beg Emily to allow her to keep the key; for, when several +persons went to the storeroom, no one ever knew what was given out, +and she was sure that the sweet things diminished much faster than +they ought to do; but her sister treated the proposal as an attempt +to deprive her of her dignity, and she was silenced. + +She was up almost with the light, to despatch whatever household +affairs could be settled without Emily, before the time came for the +children's lessons; many hours were spent on these, while she was +continually harassed by Phyllis's dulness, Ada's inattention, and the +interruption of work to do for Emily, and often was she baffled by +interference from Jane or Emily. She was conscious of her unfitness +to teach the children, and often saw that her impatience, ignorance, +and inefficiency, were doing mischief; but much as this pained her, +she could not speak to her father without compromising her sister, +and to argue with Emily herself was quite in vain. Emily had taken +up the principle of love, and defended herself with it on every +occasion, so that poor Lily was continually punished by having her +past follies quoted against herself. + +Each day Emily grew more selfish and indolent; now that Lily was +willing to supply all that she neglected, and to do all that she +asked, she proved how tyrannical the weak can be. + +The whole of her quarter's allowance was spent in dress, and Lily +soon found that the only chance of keeping her out of debt was to +spend her own time and labour in her behalf; and what an exertion of +patience and kindness this required can hardly be imagined. Emily +did indeed reward her skill with affectionate thanks and kind +praises, but she interfered with her sleep and exercise, by her want +of consideration, and hardened herself more and more in her apathetic +selfishness. + +Some weeks after Easter Lilias was arranging some books on a shelf in +the schoolroom, when she met with a crumpled piece of music-paper, +squeezed in behind the books. It proved to be Miss Weston's lost +song, creased, torn, dust-stained, and spoiled; she carried it to +Emily, who decided that nothing could be done but to copy it for +Alethea, and apologise for the disaster. Framing apologies was more +in Emily's way than copying music; and the former task, therefore, +devolved upon Lily, and occupied her all one afternoon, when she +ought to have been seeking a cure for the headache in the fresh air. +It was no cure to find the name of Emma Weston in the corner, and to +perceive how great and irreparable the loss of the paper was to her +friend. The thought of all her wrongs towards Alethea, caused more +than one large tear to fall, to blot the heads of her crotchets and +quavers, and thus give her all her work to do over again. + +The letter that she wrote was so melancholy and repentant, that it +gave great pain to her kind friend, who thought illness alone could +account for the dejection apparent in the general tone of all her +expressions. In answer, she sent a very affectionate consoling +letter, begging Lily to think no more of the matter; and though she +had too much regard for truth to say that she had not been grieved by +the loss of Emma's writing, she added that Lily's distress gave her +far more pain, and that her copy would have great value in her eyes. + +The beginning of June now arrived, and brought with it the time for +the return of Claude and Lord Rotherwood. + +The Marquis's carriage met him at Raynham, and he set down Claude at +New Court, on his way to Hetherington, just coming in to exchange a +hurried greeting with the young ladies. + +Their attention was principally taken up by their brother. + +'Claude, how well you look! How fat you are!' was their exclamation. + +'Is not he?' said Lord Rotherwood. 'I am quite proud of him. Not +one headache since he went. He will have no excuse for not dancing +the polka.' + +'I do not return the compliment to you, Lily,' said Claude, looking +anxiously at his sister. 'What is the matter with you? Have you +been ill?' + +'Oh, no! not at all!' said Lily, smiling. + +'I am sure there is enough to make any one ill,' said Emily, in her +deplorable tone; 'I thought this poor parish had had its share of +illness, with the scarlet fever, and now it has turned to a horrible +typhus fever.' + +'Indeed!' said Claude. 'Where? Who?' + +'Oh! the Naylors, and the Rays, and the Walls. John Ray died this +morning, and they do not think that Tom Naylor will live.' + +'Well,' interrupted Lord Rotherwood, 'I shall not stop to hear any +more of this chapter of accidents. I am off, but mind, remember the +30th, and do not any of you frighten yourselves into the fever.' + +He went, and Lily now spoke. 'There is one thing in all this, +Claude, that is matter of joy, Tom Naylor has sent for Robert.' + +'Then, Lily, I do most heartily congratulate you.' + +'I hope things may go better,' said Lily, with tears in her eyes. +'The poor baby is with its grandmother. Mrs. Naylor is ill too, and +every one is so afraid of the fever that nobody goes near them but +Robert, and Mrs. Eden, and old Dame Martin. Robert says Naylor is in +a satisfactory frame--determined on having the baby christened--but, +oh! I am afraid the christening is to be bought by something +terrible.' + +'I do not think those fevers are often very infectious,' said Claude. + +'So papa says,' replied Emily; 'but Robert looks very ill. He is +wearing himself out with sitting up. Making himself nurse as well as +everything else.' + +This was very distressing, but still Claude scarcely thought it +accounted for the change that had taken place in Lilias. Her cheek +was pale, her eye heavy, her voice had lost its merry tone; Claude +knew that she had had much to grieve her, but he was as yet far from +suspecting how she was overworked and harassed. He spoke of +Eleanor's return, and she did not brighten; she smiled sadly at his +attempts to cheer her, and he became more and more anxious about her. +He was not long in discovering what was the matter. + +The second day after his return Robert told them at the churchyard +gate that Tom Naylor was beginning to mend, and this seemed to be a +great comfort to Lily, who walked home with a blither step than +usual. Claude betook himself to the study, and saw no more of his +sisters till two o'clock, when Lily appeared, with the languid, +dejected look which she had lately worn, and seemed to find it quite +an effort to keep the tears out of her eyes. Ada and Phyllis were in +very high spirits, because they were going to Raynham with Emily and +Jane, and at every speech of Ada's Lily looked more grieved. After +the Raynham party were gone Claude began to look for Lily. He found +her in her room, an evening dress spread on the bed, a roll of ribbon +in one hand, and with the other supporting her forehead, while tears +were slowly rolling down her cheeks. + +'Lily, my dear, what is the matter?' + +'Oh! nothing, nothing, Claude,' said she, quickly. + +'Nothing! no, that is not true. Tell me, Lily. You have been +disconsolate ever since I came home, and I will not let it go on so. +No answer? Then am I to suppose that these new pearlins are the +cause of her sorrow? Come, Lily, be like yourself, and speak. More +tears! Here, drink this water, be yourself again, or I shall be +angry and vexed. Now then, that is right: make an effort, and tell +me.' + +'There is nothing to tell,' said Lily; 'only you are very kind--I do +not know what is the matter with me--only I have been very foolish of +late--and everything makes me cry.' + +'My poor child, I knew you had not been well. They do not know how +to take care of you, Lily, and I shall take you in hand. I am going +to order the horses, and we will have a gallop over the Downs, and +put a little colour into your cheeks.' + +'No, no, thank you, Claude, I cannot come, indeed I cannot, I have +this work, which must be done to-day.' + +'At work at your finery instead of coming out! You must be altered, +indeed, Lily.' + +'It is not for myself,' said Lily, 'but I promised Emily she should +have it ready to wear to-morrow.' + +'Emily, oh? So she is making a slave of you?' + +'No, no, it was a voluntary promise. She does not care about it, +only she would be disappointed, and I have promised.' + +'I hate promises!' said Claude. 'Well, what must be, must be, so I +will resign myself to this promise of yours, only do not make such +another. Well, but that was not all; you were not crying about that +fine green thing, were you?' + +'Oh, no!' said Lily, smiling, as now she could smile again. + +'What then? I will know, Lily.' + +'I was only vexed at something about the children.' + +'Then what was it?' + +'It was only that Ada was idle at her lessons; I told her to learn a +verb as a punishment, she went to Emily, and, somehow or other, Emily +did not find out the exact facts, excused her, and took her to +Raynham. I was vexed, because I am sure it does Ada harm, and Emily +did not understand what I said afterwards; I am sure she thought me +unjust.' + +'How came she not to be present?' + +'Emily does not often sit in the schoolroom in the morning, since she +has been about that large drawing.' + +'So you are governess as well as ladies'-maid, are you, Lily? What +else? Housekeeper, I suppose, as I see you have all the weekly bills +on your desk. Why, Lily, this is perfectly philanthropic of you. +You are exemplifying the rule of love in a majestic manner. Crying +again! Water lily once more?' + +Lily looked up, and smiled; 'Claude, how can you talk of that old, +silly, nay, wicked nonsense of my principle. I was wise above what +was written, and I have my punishment in the wreck which my "frenzy +of spirit and folly of tongue" have wrought. The unchristened child, +Agnes's death, the confusion of this house, all are owing to my +hateful principle. I see the folly of it now, but Emily has taken it +up, and acts upon it in everything. I do struggle against it a +little; but I cannot blame any one, I can do no good, it is all owing +to me. We have betrayed papa's confidence; if he does not see it now +it will all come upon him when Eleanor comes home, and what is to +become of us? How it will grieve him to see that we cannot be +trusted!' + +'Poor Lily!' said Claude. 'It is a bad prospect, but I think you see +the worst side of it. You are not well, and, therefore, doleful. +This, Lily, I can tell you, that the Baron always considered Emily's +government as a kind of experiment, and so perhaps he will not be so +grievously disappointed as you expect. Besides, I have a strong +suspicion that Emily's own nature has quite as much to do with her +present conduct as your principle, which, after all, did not live +very long.' + +'Just long enough to unsettle me, and make it more difficult for me +to get any way right,' said Lily. 'Oh! dear, what would I give to +force backward the wheels of time!' + +'But as you cannot, you had better try to brighten up your energies. +Come, you know I cannot tell you not to look back, but I can tell you +not to look forward. Nay, I do tell you literally, to look forward, +out of the window, instead of back into this hot room. Do not you +think the plane-tree there looks very inviting? Suppose we transport +Emily's drapery there, and I want to refresh my memory with Spenser; +I do not think I have touched him since plane-tree time last year.' + +'I believe Spenser and the plane-tree are inseparably woven together +in your mind,' said Lily. + +'Yes, ever since the time when I first met with the book. I remember +well roving over the bookcase, and meeting with it, and taking it out +there, for fear Eleanor should see me and tell mama. Phyl, with As +You Like It, put me much in mind of myself with that.' + +Claude talked in this manner, while Lily, listening with a smile, +prepared her work. He read, and she listened. It was such a treat +as she had not enjoyed for a long time, for she had begun to think +that all her pleasant reading days were past. Her work prospered, +and her face was bright when her sisters came home. + +But, alas! Emily was not pleased with her performance; she said that +she intended something quite different, and by manner, rather than by +words, indicated that she should not be satisfied unless Lily +completely altered it. It was to be worn at the castle the next +evening, and Lily knew she should have no time for it in the course +of the day. Accordingly, at half-past twelve, as Claude was going up +to bed, he saw a light under his sister's door, and knocked to ask +the cause. Lily was still at work upon the trimming, and very angry +he was, particularly when she begged him to take care not to disturb +Emily. At last, by threatening to awake her, for the express purpose +of giving her a scolding, he made Lily promise to go to bed +immediately, a promise which she, poor weary creature, was very glad +to make. + +Claude now resolved to tell his father the state of things, for he +well knew that though it was easy to obtain a general promise from +Emily, it was likely to be of little effect in preventing her from +spurring her willing horse to death. + +The next morning he rose in time to join his father in the survey +which he usually took of his fields before breakfast, and immediately +beginning on the subject on which he was anxious, he gave a full +account of his sister's proceedings. 'In short,' said he, 'Emily and +Ada torment poor Lily every hour of her life; she bears it all as a +sort of penance, and how it is to end I cannot tell.' + +'Unless,' said Mr. Mohun, smiling, 'as Rotherwood would say, Jupiter +will interfere. Well, Jupiter has begun to take measures, and has +asked Mrs. Weston to look out for a governess. Eh! Claude?' he +continued, after a pause, 'you set up your eyebrows, do you? You +think it will be a bore. Very likely, but there is nothing else to +be done. Jane is under no control, Phyllis running wild, Ada worse +managed than any child of my acquaintance--' + +'And poor Lily wearing herself to a shadow, in vain attempts to mend +matters,' said Claude. + +'If Lily was the eldest, things would be very different,' said Mr. +Mohun. + +'Or even if she had been as wise last year as she is now,' said +Claude, 'she would have kept Emily in order then, but now it is too +late.' + +'This year is, on many accounts, much to be regretted,' said Mr. +Mohun, 'but I think it has brought out Lily's character.' + +'And a very fine character it is,' said Claude. + +'Very. She has been, and is, more childish than Eleanor ever was, +but she is her superior in most points. She has been your pupil, +Claude, and she does you credit.' + +'Thereby hangs a tale which does me no credit,' muttered Claude, as +he remembered how foolishly he had roused her spirit of +contradiction, besides the original mischief of naming Eleanor the +duenna; 'but we will not enter into that now. I see this governess +is their best chance. Have you heard of one?' + +'Of several; but the only one who seems likely to suit us is out of +reach for the present, and I do not regret it, for I shall not decide +till Eleanor comes.' + +'Emily will not be much pleased,' said Claude. 'It has long been her +great dread that Aunt Rotherwood should recommend one.' + +'Ay, Emily's objections and your aunt's recommendations are what I +would gladly avoid,' said Mr. Mohun. + +'But Lily!' said Claude, returning to the subject on which he was +most anxious. 'She is already what Ada calls a monotony, and there +will be nothing left of her by the time Eleanor comes, if matters go +on in their present fashion.' + +'I have a plan for her. A little change will set her to rights, and +we will take her to London when we go next week to meet Eleanor. She +deserves a little extra pleasure; you must take her under your +protection, and lionise her well.' + +'Trust me for that,' said Claude. 'It is the best news I have heard +for a long time.' + +'Well, I am glad that one of my remedies meets with your +approbation,' said his father, smiling. 'For the other, you are much +inclined to pronounce the cure as bad as the disease.' + +'Not for Lily,' said Claude, laughing. + +'And,' said Mr. Mohun, 'I think I can promise you that a remedy will +be found for all the other grievances by Michaelmas.' + +Claude looked surprised, but as Mr. Mohun explained no further, only +observing upon the potatoes, through which they were walking, he only +said, 'Then it is next week that you go to London.' + +'There is much to do, both for Rotherwood and for Eleanor; I shall go +as soon as I can, but I do not think it will be while this fever is +so prevalent. I had rather not be from home--I do not like Robert's +looks.' + + + +CHAPTER XIX: THE RECTOR'S ILLNESS + + + +'Thou drooping sick man, bless the guide +That checked, or turned thy headstrong youth.' + +The thought of her brother's kindness, and the effect of his +consolation, made Lilias awake that morning in more cheerful spirits; +but it was not long before grief and anxiety again took possession of +her. + +The first sound that she heard on opening the schoolroom window was +the tolling of the church bell, giving notice of the death of another +of those to whom she felt bound by the ties of neighbourhood. + +At church she saw that Mr. Devereux was looking more ill than he yet +had done, and it was plainly with very great exertion that he +succeeded in finishing the service. The Mohun party waited, as +usual, to speak to him afterwards, for since his attendance upon +Naylor had begun he had not thought it safe to come to the New Court +as usual, lest he should bring the infection to them. He was very +pale, and walked wearily, but he spoke cheerfully, as he told them +that Naylor was now quite out of danger. + +'Then I hope you did not stay there all last night,' said Mr. Mohun. + +'No, I did not, I was so tired when I came back from poor John Ray's +funeral, that I thought I would take a holiday, and sleep at home.' + +'I am afraid you have not profited by your night's rest,' said Emily, +'you look as if you had a horrible headache.' + +'Now,' said Mr. Mohun, 'I prescribe for you that you go home and lie +down. I am going to Raynham, and I will tell your friend there that +you want help for the evening service. Do not think of moving again +to-day. I shall send Claude home with you to see that you obey my +prescription.' + +Claude went home with his cousin, and his sisters saw him no more +till late in the day, when he came to tell them that Mr. Mohun had +brought back Dr. Leslie from Raynham with him, that Dr. Leslie had +seen Mr. Devereux, and had pronounced that he had certainly caught +the fever. + +Lily had made up her mind to this for some time, but still it seemed +almost as great a blow as if it had come without any preparation. +The next day was the first Sunday that Mr. Devereux had not read the +service since he had been Rector of Beechcroft. The villagers looked +sadly at the stranger who appeared in his place, and many tears were +shed when the prayers of the congregation were desired for Robert +Devereux, and Thomas and Martha Naylor. It was announced that the +daily service would be discontinued for the present, and Lily felt as +if all the blessings which she had misused were to be taken from her. + +For some time Mr. Devereux continued very ill, and Dr. Leslie gave +little hope of his improvement. Mr. Mohun and Claude were his +constant attendants--an additional cause of anxiety to the Miss +Mohuns. Emily was listless and melancholy, talking in a maundering, +dismal way, not calculated to brace her spirits or those of her +sisters. Jane was not without serious thoughts, but whether they +would benefit her depended on herself; for, as we have seen by the +events of the autumn, sorrow and suffering do not necessarily produce +good effects, though some effects they always produce. + +Thus it was with Lilias. Grief and anxiety aided her in subduing her +will and learning resignation. She did not neglect her daily duties, +but was more exact in their fulfilment; and low as her spirits had +been before, she now had an inward spring which enabled her to be the +support of the rest. She was useful to her father, always ready to +talk to Claude, or walk with him in the intervals when he was sent +out of the sickroom to rest and breathe the fresh air. She was +cheerful and patient with Emily, and devoid of petulance when annoyed +by the spirits of the younger ones rising higher than accorded with +the sad and anxious hearts of their elders. Her most painful feeling +was, that it was possible that she might be punished through her +cousin, as she had already been through Agnes; that her follies might +have brought this distress upon every one, and that this was the +price at which the child's baptism was to be bought. Yet Lily would +not have changed her present thoughts for any of her varying frames +of mind since that fatal Whitsuntide. Better feelings were springing +up within her than she had then known; the church service and Sunday +were infinitely more to her, and she was beginning to obtain peace of +mind independent of external things. + +She could not help rejoicing to see how many evidences of affection +to the Rector were called forth by this illness; presents of fruit +poured in from all quarters, from Lord Rotherwood's choice hothouse +grapes, to poor little Kezia Grey's wood-strawberries; inquiries were +continual, and the stillness of the village was wonderful. There was +no cricket on the hill, no talking in the street, no hallooing in the +hay-field, and no burst of noise when the children were let out of +school. Many of the people were themselves in grief for the loss of +their own relations; and when on Sunday the Miss Mohuns saw how many +were dressed in black, they thought with a pang how soon they +themselves might be mourning for one whose influence they had +crippled, and whose plans they had thwarted during the three short +years of his ministry. + +During this time it was hard to say whether Lord Rotherwood was more +of a comfort or a torment. He was attached to his cousin with all +the ardour of his affectionate disposition, and not one day passed +without his appearing at Beechcroft. At first it was always in the +parlour at the parsonage that he took up his station, and waited till +he could find some means of getting at Claude or his uncle, to hear +the last report from them, and if possible to make Claude come out +for a walk or ride with him. And once Mr. Mohun caught him standing +just outside Mr. Devereux's door, waiting for an opportunity to make +an entrance. He could not, or would not see why Mr. Mohun should +allow Claude to run the risk of infection rather than himself, and +thus he kept his mother in continual anxiety, and even his uncle +could not feel by any means certain that he would not do something +imprudent. At last a promise was extracted from him that he would +not again enter the parsonage, but he would not gratify Lady +Rotherwood so far as to abstain from going to Beechcroft, a place +which she began to regard with horror. He now was almost constantly +at the New Court, talking over the reports, and quite provoking Emily +by never desponding, and never choosing to perceive how bad things +really were. Every day which was worse than the last was supposed to +be the crisis, and every restless sleep that they heard of he +interpreted into the beginning of recovery. At last, however, after +ten days of suspense, the report began to improve, and Claude came to +the New Court with a more cheerful face, to say that his cousin was +munch better. The world seemed immediately to grow brighter, people +went about with joyful looks, Lord Rotherwood declared that from the +first he had known all would be well, and Lily began to hope that now +she had been spared so heavy a punishment, it was a kind of earnest +that other things would mend, that she had suffered enough. The +future no longer hung before her in such dark colours as before Mr. +Devereux's illness, though still the New Court was in no satisfactory +state, and still she had reason to expect that her father and Eleanor +would be disappointed and grieved. Thankfulness that Mr. Devereux +was recovering, and that Claude had escaped the infection, made her +once more hopeful and cheerful; she let the morrow take thought for +the things of itself, rejoicing that it was not her business to make +arrangements. + + + +CHAPTER XX: THE LITTLE NEPHEW + + + +'You must be father, mother, both, + And uncle, all in one.' + +Mr. Mohun had much business to transact in London which he could not +leave undone, and as soon as his nephew began to recover he thought +of setting off to meet Mr. and Mrs. Hawkesworth, who had already been +a week at Lady Rotherwood's house in Grosvenor Square, which she had +lent to them for the occasion. Claude had intended to stay at home, +as his cousin was not yet well enough to leave the room; but just at +this time a college friend of the Rector's, hearing of his illness, +wrote to propose to come and stay with him for a month or six weeks, +and help him in serving his church. Mr. Devereux was particularly +glad to accept this kind offer, as it left him no longer dependent on +Mr. Stephens and the Raynham curates, and set Claude at liberty for +the London expedition. All was settled in the short space of one +day. The very next they were to set off, and in great haste; Lily +did all she could for the regulation of the house, packed up her +goods, and received the commissions of her sisters. + +Ada gave her six shillings, with orders to buy either a doll or a +book--the former if Eleanor did not say it was silly; and Phyllis put +into her hands a weighty crown piece, begging for as many things as +it could buy. Jane's wants and wishes were moderate and sensible, +and she gave Lily the money for them. With Emily there was more +difficulty. All Lily's efforts had not availed to prevent her from +contracting two debts at Raynham. More than four pounds she owed to +Lily, and this she offered to pay her, giving her at the same time a +list of commissions sufficient to swallow up double her quarter's +allowance. Lily, though really in want of the money for her own use, +thought the debts at Raynham so serious, that she begged Emily to let +her wait for payment till it was convenient, and to pay the shoemaker +and dressmaker immediately. + +Emily thanked her, and promised to do so as soon as she could go to +Raynham, and Lily next attempted to reduce her list of London +commissions to something more reasonable. In part she succeeded, but +it remained a matter of speculation how all the necessary articles +which she had to buy for herself, and all Emily's various orders, +were to come out of her own means, reduced as they were by former +loans. + +The next day Lilias was on her way to London; feeling, as she left +Beechcroft, that it was a great relief that the schoolroom and +storeroom could not follow her. She was sorry that she should miss +seeing Alethea Weston, who was to come home the next day, but she +left various messages for her, and an affectionate note, and had +received a promise from her sisters that the copy of the music should +be given to her the first day that they saw her. Her journey +afforded her much amusement, and it was not till towards the end of +the day that she had much time for thinking, when, her companions +being sleepily inclined, she was left to her own meditations and to a +dull country. She began to revolve her own feelings towards Eleanor, +and as she remembered the contempt and ingratitude she had once +expressed, she shrank from the meeting with shame and dread, and knew +that she should feel reproached by Eleanor's wonted calmness of +manner. And as she mused upon all that Eleanor had endured, and all +that she had done, such a reverence for suffering and sacrifice took +possession of her mind that she was ready to look up to her sister +with awe. She began to recollect old reproofs, and found herself +sitting more upright, and examining the sit of the folds of her dress +with some uneasiness at the thought of Eleanor's preciseness. In the +midst of her meditations her two companions were roused by the +slackening speed of the train, and starting up, informed her that +they were arriving at their journey's end. The next minute she heard +her father consigning her and the umbrellas to Mr. Hawkesworth's +care, and all was bewilderment till she found herself in the hall of +her aunt's house, receiving as warm and affectionate a greeting from +Eleanor as Emily herself could have bestowed. + +'And the baby, Eleanor?' + +'Asleep, but you shall see him; and how is Ada? and all of them? why, +Claude, how well you look! Papa, let me help you to take off your +greatcoat--you are cold--will you have a fire?' + +Never had Lily heard Eleanor say so much in a breath, or seen her eye +so bright, or her smile so ready, yet, when she entered the drawing- +room, she saw that Mrs. Hawkesworth was still the Eleanor of old. In +contrast with the splendid furniture of the apartments, a pile of +shirts was on the table, Eleanor's well-known work-basket on the +floor, and the ceaseless knitting close at hand. + +Much news was exchanged in the few minutes that elapsed before +Eleanor carried off her sister to her room, indulging her by the way +with a peep at little Harry, and one kiss to his round red cheek as +he lay asleep in his little bed. It was not Eleanor's fault that she +did not entirely dress Lily, and unpack her wardrobe; but Lilias +liked to show that she could manage for herself; and Eleanor's praise +of her neat arrangements gave her as much pleasure as in days of +yore. + +The evening passed very happily. Eleanor's heart was open, she was +full of enjoyment at meeting those she loved, and the two sisters sat +long together in the twilight, talking over numerous subjects, all +ending in Beechcroft or the baby. + +Yet when Lily awoke the next morning her awe of Eleanor began to +return, and she felt like a child just returned to school. She was, +however, mistaken; Eleanor assumed no authority, she treated Lily as +her equal, and thus made her feel more like a woman than she had ever +done before. Lily thought either that Eleanor was much altered, or +that in her folly she must have fancied her far more cold and grave +than she really was. She had, however, no time for studying her +character; shopping and sight-seeing filled up most of her time, and +the remainder was spent in resting, and in playing with little Henry. + +One evening, when Mr. Mohun and Claude were dining out, Lilias was +left alone with Mr. and Mrs. Hawkesworth. Lily was very tired, but +she worked steadily at marking Eleanor's pocket-handkerchiefs, until +her sister, seeing how weary she was, made her lie down on the sofa. + +'Here is a gentleman who is tired too,' said Eleanor, dancing the +baby; 'we will carry you off, sir, and leave Aunt Lily to go to +sleep.' + +'Aunt Lily is not so tired as that,' said Lily; 'pray keep him.' + +'It is quite bedtime,' said Eleanor, in her decided tone, and she +carried him off. + +Lilias took up the knitting which she had laid down, and began to +study the stitches. 'I should like this feathery pattern,' said she, +'(if it did not remind me so much of the fever); but, by the bye, +Frank, have you completed Master Henry's outfit? I looked forward to +helping to choose his pretty little things, but I see no preparation +but of stockings.' + +'Why, Lily, did not you know that he was to stay in England?' + +'To stay in England? No, I never thought of that--how sorry you must +be.' + +At this moment Eleanor returned, and Mr. Hawkesworth told her he had +been surprised to find Lily did not know their intentions with regard +to the baby. + +'If we had any certain intentions we should have told her,' said +Eleanor; 'I did not wish to speak to her about it till we had made up +our minds.' + +'Well, I know no use in mysteries,' said Mr. Hawkesworth, 'especially +when Lily may help us to decide.' + +'On his going or staying?' exclaimed Lily, eagerly looking to Mr. +Hawkesworth, who was evidently more disposed to speak than his wife. + +'Not on his going or staying--I am sorry to say that point was +settled long ago--but where we shall leave him.' + +Lily's heart beat high, but she did not speak. + +'The truth is,' proceeded Mr. Hawkesworth, 'that this young gentleman +has, as perhaps you know, a grandpapa, a grandmamma, and also six or +seven aunts. With his grandmamma he cannot be left, for sundry +reasons, unnecessary to mention. Now, one of his aunts is a staid +matronly lady, and his godmother besides, and in all respects the +person to take charge of him,--only she lives in a small house in a +town, and has plenty of babies of her own, without being troubled +with other people's. Master Henry's other five aunts live in one +great house, in a delightful country, with nothing to do but make +much of him all day long, yet it is averred that these said aunts are +a parcel of giddy young colts, amongst whom, if Henry escapes being +demolished as a baby he will infallibly be spoilt as he grows up. +Now, how are we to decide?' + +'You have heard the true state of the case, Lily,' said Mrs. +Hawkesworth. 'I did not wish to harass papa by speaking to him till +something was settled; you are certainly old enough to have an +opinion.' + +'Yes, Lily,' said Frank; 'do you think that the hospitable New Court +will open to receive our poor deserted child, and that these said +aunts are not wild colts but discreet damsels?' + +Playful as Mr. Hawkesworth's manner was, Lily saw the earnestness +that was veiled under it: she felt the solemnity of Eleanor's +appeal, and knew that this was no time to let herself be swayed by +her wishes. There was a silence. At last, after a great struggle, +Lily's better judgment gained the mastery, and raising her head, she +said, 'Oh! Frank, do not ask me--I wish--but, Eleanor, when you see +how much harm we have done, how utterly we have failed--' + +Lily's newly-acquired habits of self-command enabled her to subdue a +violent fit of sobbing, which she felt impending, but her tears +flowed quietly down her cheeks. + +'Remember,' said Frank, 'those who mistrust themselves are the most +trustworthy.' + +'No, Frank, it is not only the feeling of the greatness of the +charge, it is the knowledge that we are not fit for it--that our own +faults have forfeited such happiness.' + +Again Lily was choked with tears. + +'Well,' said Frank, 'we shall judge at Beechcroft. At all events, +one of those aunts is to be respected.' + +Eleanor added her 'Very right.' + +This kindness on the part of her brother-in-law, which Lily felt to +be undeserved, caused her tears to flow faster, and Eleanor, seeing +her quite overcome, led her out of the room, helped her to undress, +and put her to bed, with tenderness such as Lily had never +experienced from her, excepting in illness. + +In spite of bitter regrets, when she thought of the happiness it +would have been to keep her little nephew, and of importunate and +disappointing hopes that Mrs. Ridley would find it impossible to +receive him, Lily felt that she had done right, and had made a real +sacrifice for duty's sake. No more was said on the subject, and Lily +was very grateful to Eleanor for making no inquiries, which she could +not have answered without blaming Emily. + +Sight-seeing prospered very well under Claude's guidance, and Lily's +wonder and delight was a constant source of amusement to her friends. +Her shopping was more of a care than a pleasure, for, in spite of the +handsome equipments which Mr. Mohun presented to all his daughters, +it was impossible to contract Emily's requirements within the limits +of what ought to be her expenditure, and the different views of her +brother and sister were rather troublesome in this matter. Claude +hated the search for ladies' finery, and if drawn into it, insisted +on always taking her to the grandest and most expensive shops; while, +on the other hand, though Eleanor liked to hunt up cheap things and +good bargains, she had such rigid ideas about plainness of dress, +that there was little chance that what she approved would satisfy +Emily. + + + +CHAPTER XXI: CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME + + + +'Suddenly, a mighty jerk +A mighty mischief did.' + +In the meantime Emily and Jane went on very prosperously at home, +looking forward to the return of the rest of the party on Saturday, +the 17th of July. In this, however, they were doomed to +disappointment, for neither Mr. Mohun nor Mr. Hawkesworth could wind +up their affairs so as to return before the 24th. Maurice's holidays +commenced on Monday the 19th, and Claude offered to go home on the +same day, and meet him, but in a general council it was determined to +the contrary. Claude was wanted to stay for a concert on Thursday, +and both Mr. Mohun and Eleanor thought Maurice, without Reginald, +would not be formidable for a few days. + +At first he seemed to justify this opinion. He did not appear to +have any peculiar pursuit, unless such might be called a very earnest +attempt to make Phyllis desist from her favourite preface of 'I'll +tell you what,' and to reform her habit of saying, 'Please for,' +instead of 'If you please.' He walked with the sisters, carried +messages for Mr. Devereux, performed some neat little bits of +carpentry, and was very useful and agreeable. + +On Wednesday afternoon Lord Rotherwood and Florence called, their +heads the more full of the 30th because the Marquis had not once +thought of it while Mr. Devereux was ill. Among the intended +diversions fireworks were mentioned, and from that moment rockets, +wheels, and serpents, commenced a wild career through Maurice's +brain. Through the whole evening he searched for books on what he +was pleased to call the art of pyrotechnics, studied them all +Wednesday, and the next morning announced his intention of making +some fireworks on a new plan. + +'No, you must not,' said Emily, 'you will be sure to do mischief.' + +'I am going to ask Wat for some powder,' was Maurice's reply, and he +walked off. + +'Stop him, Jane, stop him,' cried Emily. 'Nothing can be so +dangerous. Tell him how angry papa would be.' + +Though Jane highly esteemed her brother's discretion, she did not +much like the idea of his touching powder, and she ran after him to +suggest that he had better wait till papa's return. + +'Then Redgie will be at home,' said Maurice, 'and I could not be +answerable for the consequence of such a careless fellow touching +powder.' + +This great proof of caution quite satisfied Jane, but not so Wat +Greenwood, who proved himself a faithful servant by refusing to let +Master Maurice have one grain of gunpowder without express leave from +the squire. Maurice then had recourse to Jane, and his power over +her was such as to triumph over strong sense and weak notions of +obedience, so that she was prevailed upon to supply him with the +means of making the dangerous and forbidden purchase. + +Emily was both annoyed and alarmed when she found that the gunpowder +was actually in the house, and she even thought of sending a note to +the parsonage to beg Mr. Devereux to speak to Maurice; but Jane had +gone over to the enemy, and Emily never could do anything +unsupported. Besides, she neither liked to affront Maurice nor to +confess herself unable to keep him in order; and she, therefore, +tried to put the whole matter out of her head, in the thoughts of an +expedition to Raynham, which she was about to make in the manner she +best liked, with Jane in the close carriage, and the horses +reluctantly spared from their farm work. + +As they were turning the corner of the lane they overtook Phyllis and +Adeline on their way to the school with some work, and Emily stopped +the carriage, to desire them to send off a letter which she had left +on the chimney-piece in the schoolroom. Then proceeding to Raynham, +they made their visits, paid Emily's debts, performed their +commissions, and met the carriage again at the bookseller's shop, at +the end of about two hours. + +'Look here, Emily!' exclaimed Jane. 'Read this! can it be Mrs. +Aylmer?' + +'The truly charitable,' said Emily, contemptuously. 'Mrs. Aylmer is +above--' + +'But read. It says "unbeneficed clergyman and deceased nobleman," +and who can that be but Uncle Rotherwood and Mr. Aylmer.' + +'Well, let us see,' said Emily, 'those things are always amusing.' + +It was an appeal to the 'truly charitable,' from the friends of the +widow of an unbeneficed clergyman of the diocese, one of whose sons +had, it was said, by the kindness of a deceased nobleman, received +the promise of an appointment in India, of which he was unable to +avail himself for want of the funds needful for his outfit. This +appeal was, it added, made without the knowledge of the afflicted +lady, but further particulars might be learnt by application to E. +F., No. 5 West Street, Raynham. + +'E. F. is plainly that bustling, little, old Miss Fitchett, who wrote +to papa for some subscription,' said Emily. 'You know she is a +regular beggar, always doing these kind of things, but I can never +believe that Mrs. Aylmer would consent to appear in this manner.' + +'Ah! but it says without her knowledge,' said Jane. 'Don't you +remember Rotherwood's lamenting that they were forgotten?' + +'Yes, it is shocking,' said Emily; 'the clergyman that married papa +and mamma!' + +'Ask Mr. Adam what he knows,' said Jane. + +Emily accordingly applied to the bookseller, and learnt that Mrs. +Aylmer was indeed the person intended. 'Something must be done,' +said she, returning to Jane. 'Our name will be a help.' + +'Speak to Aunt Rotherwood,' said Jane. 'Or suppose we apply to Miss +Fitchett, we should have time to drive that way.' + +'I am sure I shall not go to Miss Fitchett,' said Emily, 'she only +longs for an excuse to visit us. What can you be thinking of? Lend +me your pencil, Jenny, if you please.' + +And Emily wrote down, 'Miss Mohun, 5 pounds,' and handed to the +bookseller all that she possessed towards paying her just debts to +Lilias. While she was writing, Jane had turned towards the window, +and suddenly exclaiming, 'There is Ben! Oh! that gunpowder!' darted +out of the shop. She had seen the groom on horseback, and the next +moment she was asking breathlessly, 'Is it Maurice?' + +'No, Miss Jane; but Miss Ada is badly burnt, and Master Maurice sent +me to fetch Mr. Saunders.' + +'How did it happen?' + +'I can't say, Miss; the schoolroom has been on fire, and Master +Maurice said the young ladies had got at the gunpowder.' + +Emily had just arrived at the door, looking dreadfully pale, and +followed by numerous kind offers of salts and glasses of water; but +Jane, perceiving that at least she had strength to get into the +carriage, refused them all, helped her in, and with instant decision, +desired to be driven to the surgeon's. Emily obeyed like a child, +and threw herself back in the carriage without a word; Jane trembled +like an aspen leaf; but her higher spirit took the lead, and very +sensibly she managed, stopping at Mr. Saunders's door to offer to +take him to Beechcroft, and getting a glass of sal-volatile for Emily +while they were waiting for him. His presence was a great relief, +for Emily's natural courtesy made her exert herself, and thus warded +off much that would have been very distressing. + +In the meantime we will return to Beechcroft, where Emily's request +respecting her letter had occasioned some discussion between the +little girls, as they returned from a walk with Marianne. Phyllis +thought that Emily meant them to wafer the letter, since they were +under strict orders never to touch fire or candle; but Ada argued +that they were to seal it, and that permission to light a candle was +implied in the order. At last, Phyllis hoped the matter might be +settled by asking Maurice to seal the letter, and meeting him at the +front door, she began, in fortunately, with 'Please, Maurice--' + +'I never listen to anything beginning with please,' said Maurice, who +was in a great hurry, 'only don't touch my powder.' + +Away he went, deaf to all his sister's shouts of 'Maurice, Maurice,' +and they went in, Ada not sorry to be unheard, as she was bent on the +grand exploit of lighting a lucifer match, but Phyllis still pleading +for the wafer. They found the schoolroom strewed with Maurice's +preparations for fireworks, and Emily's letter on the chimney-piece. + +'Let us take the letter downstairs, and put on a wafer,' said +Phyllis. 'Won't you come, Ada?' + +'No, the stamps are here, and so are the matches, I can do it +easily.' + +'But Ada, Ada, it would be naughty. Only wait, and I will show you +such a pretty wafer that I know of in the drawing-room. I will run +and fetch it.' + +Phyllis went, and Ada stood a few moments in doubt, looking at the +letter. The recollection of duty was not strong enough to balance +the temptation, and she took up a match and drew it along the +sandpaper. It did not light--a second pull, and the flame appeared +more suddenly than she had expected, while at the same moment the +lock of the door turned, and fancying it was Maurice, she started, +and dropped the match. Phyllis opened the door, heard a loud +explosion and a scream, saw a bright flash and a cloud of smoke. She +started back, but the next moment again opened the door, and ran +forward. Hannah rushed in at the same time, and caught up Ada, who +had fallen to the ground. A light in the midst of the smoke made +Phyllis turn, and she beheld the papers on the table on fire. +Maurice's powder-horn was in the midst, but the flames had not yet +reached it, and, mindful of Claude's story, she sprung forward, +caught it up, and dashed it through the window; she felt the glow of +the fire upon her cheek, and stood still as if stunned, till Hannah +carried Ada out of the room, and screamed to her to come away, and +call Joseph. The table was now one sheet of flame, and Phyllis flew +to the pantry, where she gave the summons in almost inaudible tones. +The servants hurried to the spot, and she was left alone and +bewildered; she ran hither and thither in confusion, till she met +Hannah, eagerly asking for Master Maurice, and saying that the +surgeon must be instantly sent for, as Ada's face and neck were badly +burnt. Phyllis ran down, calling Maurice, and at length met him at +the front door, looking much frightened, and asking for Ada. + +'Oh! Maurice, her face and neck are burnt, and badly. She does +scream?' + +'Did I not tell you not to meddle with the powder?' said Maurice. + +'Indeed, I could not help it,' said Phyllis. + +'Stuff and nonsense! It is very well that you have not killed Ada, +and I think that would have made you sorry.' + +Phyllis with difficulty mentioned Hannah's desire that a surgeon +should be sent for: Maurice went to look for Ben, and she followed +him. Then he began asking how she had done the mischief. + +'I do not know,' said she, 'I do not much think I did it.' + +'Mind, you can't humbug me. Did you not say that you touched the +powder?' + +'Yes, but--' + +'No buts,' said Maurice, making the most of his brief authority. 'I +hate false excuses. What were you doing when it exploded?' + +'Coming into the room.' + +'Oh! that accounts for it,' said Maurice, 'the slightest vibration +causes an explosion of that sort of rocket, and of course it was your +bouncing into the room! You have had a lesson against rushing about +the house. Come, though, cheer up, Phyl, it is a bad business, but +it might have been worse; you will know better next time. Don't cry, +Phyl, I will explain to you all about the patent rocket.' + +'But do you really think that I blew up Ada?' + +'Blew up Ada! caused the powder to ignite. The inflammable matter--' + +As he spoke he followed Phyllis to the nursery, and there was so much +shocked, that he could no longer lord it over her, but shrinking +back, shut himself up in his room, and bolted the door. + +Nearly an hour passed away before the arrival of Emily, Jane, and Mr. +Saunders. Phyllis ran down, and meeting them at the door, exclaimed, +'Oh! Emily, poor Ada! I am so sorry.' + +The sisters hurried past her to the nursery, where Ada was lying on +the bed, half undressed, and her face, neck, and arm such a spectacle +that Emily turned away, ready to faint. Mr. Saunders was summoned, +and Phyllis thrust out of the room. She sat down on the step of the +stairs, resting her forehead on her knees, and trembling, listened to +the sounds of voices, and the screams which now and then reached her +ears. After a time she was startled by hearing herself called from +the stairs BY BELOW a voice which she had not heard for many weeks, +and springing up, saw Mr. Devereux leaning on the banisters. The +great change in his appearance frightened her almost as much as the +accident itself, and she stood looking at him without speaking. +'Phyllis,' said he, in a voice hoarse with agitation, 'what is it? +tell me at once.' + +She could not speak, and her wild and frightened air might well give +him great alarm. She pointed to the nursery, and put her finger to +her lips, and he, beckoning to her to follow him, went downstairs, +and turning into the drawing-room, said, as he sank down upon the +sofa, 'Now, Phyllis, what has happened?' + +'The gunpowder--I made it go off, and it has burnt poor Ada's face! +Mr. Saunders is there, and she screams--' + +Phyllis finding herself ready to roar, left off speaking, and laying +her head on the table, burst into an agony of crying, while Mr. +Devereux was too much exhausted to address her; at last she +exclaimed: 'I hear the nursery door; he is going!' + +She flew to the door, and listened, and then called out, 'Emily, +Jane, here is Cousin Robert!' + +Jane came down, leaving Emily to finish hearing Mr. Saunders's +directions. She was even more shocked at her cousin's looks than +Phyllis had been, and though she tried to speak cheerfully, her +manner scarcely agreed with her words. 'It is all well, Robert, I am +sorry you have been so frightened. It is but a slight affair, though +it looks so shocking. There is no danger. But, oh, Robert! you +ought not to be here. What shall we do for you? you are quite +knocked up.' + +'Oh! no,' said Mr. Devereux, 'I am only a little out of breath. A +terrible report came to me, and I set off to learn the truth. I +should like to hear what Mr. Saunders says of her.' + +'I will call him in here before he goes,' said Jane; 'how tired you +are; you have not been out before.' + +'Only to the gate to speak to Rotherwood yesterday, and prevent him +from coming in,' said Mr. Devereux, 'but I have great designs for +Sunday. They come home to-morrow, do not they?' + +Jane was much relieved by hearing her cousin talk in this manner, and +answered, 'Yes, and a dismal coming home it will be; it is too late +to let them know.' + +Mr. Saunders now entered, and gave a very favourable account of the +patient, saying that even the scars would probably disappear in a few +weeks. His gig had come from Raynham, and he offered to set Mr. +Devereux down at the parsonage, a proposal which the latter was very +glad to accept. Emily and Jane had leisure, when they were gone, to +inquire into the manner of the accident. Phyllis answered that +Maurice said that her banging the door had made the powder go off. +Jane then asked where Maurice was, and Phyllis reporting that he was +in his own room, she repaired thither, and knocked twice without +receiving an answer. On her call, however, he opened the door; she +saw that he had been in tears, and hastened to tell him Mr. +Saunders's opinion. He fastened the door again as soon as she had +entered. 'If I could have thought it!' sighed he. 'Fool that I was, +not to lock the door!' + +'Then you were not there? Phyllis says that she did it by banging +the door. Is not that nonsense?' + +'Not at all. Did I not read to you in the Year Book of Facts about +the patent signal rockets, which explode with the least vibration, +even when a carriage goes by? Now, mine was on the same principle. +I was making an experiment on the ingredients; I did not expect to +succeed the first time, and so I took no precautions. Well! +Pyrotechnics are a dangerous science! Next time I study them it +shall be at the workshop at the Old Court.' + +Maurice was sincerely sorry for the consequence of his disobedience, +and would have been much to be pitied had it not been for his secret +satisfaction in the success of his art. He called his sister into +the schoolroom to explain how it happened. The room was a dismal +sight, blackened with smoke, and flooded with water, the table and +part of the floor charred, a mass of burnt paper in the midst, and a +stifling smell of fire. A pane of glass was shattered, and Maurice +ran down to the lawn to see if he could find anything there to +account for it. The next moment he returned, the powder-horn in his +hand. 'See, Jenny, how fortunate that this was driven through the +window with the force of the explosion. The whole place might have +been blown to atoms with such a quantity as this.' + +'Then what was it that blew up?' asked Jane. + +'What I had put out for my rocket, about two ounces. If this half- +pound had gone there is no saying what might have happened.' + +'Now, Maurice,' said Jane, 'I must go back to Ada, and will you run +down to the parsonage with a parcel, directed to Robert, that you +will find in the hall?' + +This was a device to occupy Maurice, who, as Jane saw, was so +restless and unhappy that she did not like to leave him, much as she +was wanted elsewhere. He went, but afraid to see his cousin, only +left the parcel at the door. As he was going back he heard a shout, +and looking round saw Lord Rotherwood mounted on Cedric, his most +spirited horse, galloping up the lane. 'Maurice!' cried he, 'what is +all this? they say the New Court is blown up, and you and half the +girls killed, but I hope one part is as true as the other.' + +'Nobody is hurt but Ada,' said Maurice, 'but her face is a good deal +burnt.' + +'Eh? then she won't be fit for the 30th, poor child! tell me how it +was, make haste. I heard it from Mr. Burnet as I came down to +dinner. We have a dozen people at dinner. I told him not to mention +it to my mother, and rode off to hear the truth. Make haste, half +the people were come when I set off.' + +The horse's caperings so discomposed Maurice that he could scarcely +collect his wits enough to answer: 'Some signal rocket on a new +principle--detonating powder, composed of oxymuriate--Oh! +Rotherwood, take care!' + +'Speak sense, and go on.' + +'Then Phyllis came in, banged the door, and the vibration caused the +explosion,' said Maurice, scared into finishing promptly. + +'Eh! banging the door? You had better not tell that story at +school.' + +'But, Rotherwood, the deton--Oh! that horse--you will be off!' + +'Not half so dangerous as patent rockets. Is Emily satisfied with +such stuff?' + +'Don't you know that fulminating silver--' + +'What does Robert Devereux say?' + +'Really, Rotherwood, I could show you--' + +'Show me? No; if rockets are so perilous I shall have nothing to do +with them. Stand still, Cedric! Just tell me about Ada. Is there +much harm done?' + +'Her face is scorched a good deal, but they say it will soon be +right.' + +'I am glad--we will send to inquire to-morrow, but I cannot come--ha, +ha! a new infernal machine. Good-bye, Friar Bacon.' + +Away he went, and Maurice stood looking after him with complacent +disdain. 'There they go, Cedric and Rotherwood, equally well +provided with brains! What is the use of talking science to either?' + +It was late when he reached the house, and his two sisters shortly +came down to tea, with news that Adeline was asleep and Phyllis was +going to bed. The accident was again talked over. + +'Well,' said Emily, 'I do not understand it, but I suppose papa +will.' + +'The telling papa is a bad part of the affair, with William and +Eleanor there too,' said Jane. + +'I do not mean to speak to Phyllis about it again,' said Emily, 'it +makes her cry so terribly.' + +'It will come out fast enough,' sighed Maurice. 'Good-night.' + +More than once in the course of the night did poor Phyllis wake and +cry, and the next day was the most wretched she had ever spent; she +was not allowed to stay in the nursery, and the schoolroom was +uninhabitable, so she wandered listlessly about the garden, sometimes +creeping down to the churchyard, where she looked up at the old +tower, or pondered over the graves, and sometimes forgetting her +troubles in converse with the dogs, in counting the rings in the +inside of a foxglove flower, or in rescuing tadpoles stranded on the +broad leaf of a water-lily. + +Her sisters and brothers were not less forlorn. Emily sighed and +lamented; Adeline was feverish and petulant; and Jane toiled in vain +to please and soothe both, and to comfort Maurice; but with all her +good-temper and good-nature she had not the spirit which alone could +enable her to be a comfort to any one. Ada whined, fretted, and was +disobedient, and from Maurice she met with nothing but rebuffs; he +was silent and sullen, and spent most of the day in the workshop, +slowly planing scraps of deal board, and watching with a careless eye +the curled shavings float to the ground. + +In the course of the afternoon Alethea and Marianne came to inquire +after the patient. Jane came down to them and talked very fast, but +when they asked for a further explanation of the cause of the +accident, Jane declared that Maurice said it was impossible that any +one who did not understand chemistry should know how it happened, and +Alethea went away strongly reminded that it was no affair of hers. + +Notes passed between the New Court and the vicarage, but Mr. Devereux +was feeling the effect of his yesterday's exertion too much to repeat +it, and no persuasion of the sisters could induce Maurice to visit +him. + + + +CHAPTER XXII: THE BARONIAL COURT + + + +'Still in his eyes his soul revealing, +He dreams not, knows not of concealing, +Does all he does with single mind, +And thinks of others that are kind.' + +The travellers were expected to arrive at about seven o'clock in the +evening, and in accordance with a well-known taste of Eleanor's, +Emily had ordered no dinner, but a substantial meal under the name of +tea. When the sound of carriage wheels was heard, Jane was with +Adeline, Maurice was in his retreat at the Old Court, and it was with +no cheerful alacrity that Emily went alone into the hall. Phyllis +was already at the front door, and the instant Mr. Mohun set foot on +the threshold, her hand grasped his coat, and her shrill voice cried +in his ear, 'Papa, I am very sorry I blew up the gunpowder and burnt +Ada.' + +'What, my dear? where is Ada?' + +'In bed. I blew up the gunpowder and burnt her face,' repeated +Phyllis. + +'We have had an accident,' said Emily, 'but I hope it is nothing very +serious, only poor Ada is a sad figure.' + +In another moment Mr. Mohun and Eleanor were on the way to the +nursery; Lilias was following, but she recollected that a general +rush into a sickroom was not desirable, and therefore paused and came +back to the hall. The worst was over with Phyllis when the +confession had been made. She was in raptures at the sight of the +baby, and was presently showing the nurse the way upstairs, but her +brother William called her back: 'Phyllis, you have not spoken to +any one.' + +Phyllis turned, and came down slowly in her most ungainly manner, +believing herself in too great disgrace to be noticed by anybody, and +she was quite surprised and comforted to be greeted by her brothers +and Lily just as usual. + +'And how did you meet with this misfortune?' asked Mr. Hawkesworth. + +'I banged the door, and made it go off,' said Phyllis. + +'What can you mean?' said William, in a tone of surprise, which +Phyllis took for anger, and she hid her face to stifle her sobs. + +'No, no, do not frighten her,' said Claude's kind voice. + +'Run and make friends with your nephew, Phyllis,' said Mr. +Hawkesworth; 'do not greet us with crying.' + +'First tell me what is become of Maurice,' said Claude, 'is he blown +up too?' + +'No, he is at the Old Court,' said Phyllis. 'Shall I tell him that +you are come?' + +'I will look for him,' said Claude, and out he went. + +The others dispersed in different directions, and did not assemble +again for nearly half an hour, when they all met in the drawing-room +to drink tea; Claude and Maurice were the last to appear, and, on +entering, the first thing the former said was, 'Where is Phyllis?' + +'In the nursery,' said Jane; 'she has had her supper, and chooses to +stay with Ada.' + +'Has any one found out the history of the accident?' said William. + +'I have vainly been trying to make sense of Maurice's account,' said +Claude. + +'Sense!' said William, 'there is none.' + +'I am perfectly bewildered,' said Lily; 'every one has a different +story, only consenting in making Phyllis the victim.' + +'And,' added Claude, 'I strongly suspect she is not in fault.' + +'Why should you doubt what she says herself?' said Eleanor. + +'What does she say herself?' said William, 'nothing but that she shut +the door, and what does that amount to?--Nothing.' + +'She says she touched the powder,' interposed Jane. + +'That is another matter,' said William; 'no one told me of her +touching the powder. But why do you not ask her? She is publicly +condemned without a hearing.' + +'Who accuses her?' said Mr. Mohun. + +'I can hardly tell,' said Emily; 'she met us, saying she was very +sorry. Yes, she accuses herself. Every one has believed it to be +her.' + +'And why?' + +There was a pause, but at last Emily said, 'How would you account for +it otherwise?' + +'I have not yet heard the circumstances. Maurice, I wish to hear +your account. I will not now ask how you procured the powder. +Whoever was the immediate cause of the accident, you are chiefly to +blame. Where was the powder?' + +Maurice gave his theory and his facts, ending with the powder-horn +being driven out of the window upon the green. + +'I hear,' said Mr. Mohun. 'But, Maurice, did you not say that +Phyllis touched the powder? How do you reconcile that with this +incomprehensible statement?' + +'She might have done that before,' said Maurice. + +'Now call Phyllis,' said his father. + +'Is it not very formidable for her to be examined before such an +assembly?' said Emily. + +'The accusation has been public, and the investigation shall be the +same,' said Mr. Mohun. + +'Then you do not think she did it, papa?' cried Lily. + +'Not by shutting the door,' said William. + +Phyllis entered, and Mr. Mohun, holding out both hands to her, drew +her towards him, and placing her with her back to the others, still +retained her hands, while he said, 'Phyllis, do not be frightened, +but tell me where you were when the powder exploded?' + +'Coming into the room,' said Phyllis, in a trembling voice. + +'Where had you been?' + +'Fetching a wafer out of the drawing-room.' + +'What was the wafer for?' + +'To put on Emily's letter, which she told us to send.' + +'And where was Ada?' + +'In the schoolroom, reading the direction of the letter.' + +'Tell me exactly what happened when you came back.' + +'I opened the door, and there was a flash, and a bang, and a smoke, +and Ada tumbled down.' + +'I have one more question to ask. When did you touch the powder?' + +'Then,' said Phyllis. + +'When it had exploded? Take care what you say.' + +'Was it naughty? I am very sorry,' said Phyllis, beginning to cry. + +'What powder did you touch? I do not understand you, tell me +quietly.' + +'I touched the powder-horn. What went off was only a little in a +paper on the table, and there was a great deal more. When the rocket +blew up there was a great noise, and Ada and I both screamed, and +Hannah ran in and took up Ada in her arms. Then I saw a great fire, +and looked, and saw Emily's music-book, and all the papers blazing. +So I thought if it got to the powder it would blow up again, and I +laid hold of the horn and threw it out of the window. That is all I +know, papa, only I hope you are not very angry with me.' + +She looked into his face, not knowing how to interpret the unusual +expression she saw there. + +'Angry with you!' said he. 'No, my dear child, you have acted with +great presence of mind. You have saved your sister and Hannah from +great danger, and I am very sorry that you have been unjustly +treated.' + +He then gave his little daughter a kiss, and putting his hand on her +head, added, 'Whoever caused the explosion, Phyllis is quite free +from blame, and I wish every one to understand this, because she has +been unjustly accused, without examination, and because she has borne +it patiently, and without attempting to justify herself.' + +'Very right,' observed Eleanor. + +'Shake hands, Phyllis,' said William. + +The others said more with their eyes than with their lips. Phyllis +stood like one in a dream, and fixing her bewildered looks upon +Claude, said, 'Did not I do it?' + +'No, Phyllis, you had nothing to do with it,' was the general +exclamation. + +'Maurice said it was the door,' said Phyllis. + +'Maurice talked nonsense,' said Claude; 'you were only foolish in +believing him.' + +Phyllis went up to Claude, and laid her head on his arm; Mr. +Hawkesworth held out his hand to her, but she did not look up, and +Claude withdrawing his arm, and raising her head, found that she was +crying. Eleanor and Lilias both rose, and came towards her but +Claude made them a sign, and led her away. + +'What a fine story this will be for Reginald,' said William. + +'And for Rotherwood,' said Mr. Mohun. + +'I do not see how it happened,' said Eleanor. + +'Of course Ada did it herself,' said William. + +'Of course,' said Maurice. 'It was all from Emily's setting them to +seal her letter, that is plain now.' + +'Would not Ada have said so?' asked Eleanor. + +Lily sighed at the thought of what Eleanor had yet to learn. + +'Did you tell them to seal your letter, Emily?' said Mr. Mohun. + +'I am sorry to say that I did tell them to send it,' said Emily, 'but +I said nothing about sealing, as Jane remembers, and I forgot that +Maurice's gunpowder was in the room.' + +Eleanor shook her head sorrowfully, and looked down at her knitting, +and Lily knew that her mind was made up respecting little Henry's +dwelling-place. + +It was some comfort to have raised no false expectations. + +'Ada must not be frightened and agitated to-night,' said Mr. Mohun, +'but I hope you will talk to her to-morrow, Eleanor. Well, Claude, +have you made Phyllis understand that she is acquitted?' + +'Scarcely,' said Claude; 'she is so overcome and worn out, that I +thought she had better go to bed, and wake in her proper senses to- +morrow.' + +'A very unconscious heroine,' said William. 'She is a wonder--I +never thought her anything but an honest sort of romp.' + +'I have long thought her a wonderful specimen of obedience,' said Mr. +Mohun. + +William and Claude now walked to the parsonage, and the council broke +up; but it must not be supposed that this was the last that Emily and +Maurice heard on the subject. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII: JOYS AND SORROWS + + + +'Complaint was heard on every part +Of something disarranged.' + +The next day, Sunday, was one of the most marked in Lily's life. It +was the first time she saw Mr. Devereux after his illness, and though +Claude had told her he was going to church, it gave her a sudden +thrill of joy to see him there once more, and perhaps she never felt +more thankful than when his name was read before the Thanksgiving. +After the service there was an exchange of greetings, but Lily spoke +no word, she felt too happy and too awe-struck to say anything, and +she walked back to the New Court in silence. + +In the afternoon she had hopes that a blessing would be granted to +her, for which at one time she had scarcely dared to hope; and she +felt convinced that so it would be when she saw that Mr. Devereux +wore his surplice, although, as in the morning, his friend read the +service. After the Second Lesson there was a pause, and then Mr. +Devereux left the chair by the altar, walked along the aisle, and +took his stand on the step of the font. Lily's heart beat high as +she saw who were gathering round him--Mrs. Eden, Andrew Grey, James +Harrington, and Mrs. Naylor, who held in her arms a healthy, rosy- +checked boy of a year old. + +She could not have described the feelings which made her eyes +overflow with tears, as she saw Mr. Devereux's thin hand sprinkle the +drops over the brow of the child, and heard him say, 'Robert, I +baptize thee'--words which she had heard in dreams, and then awakened +to remember that the parish was at enmity with the pastor, the child +unbaptized, and herself, in part, the cause. + +The name of the little boy was an additional pledge of +reconciliation, and at the same time it made her feel again what had +been the price of his baptism. When she looked back upon the dreary +feelings which she had so lately experienced, it seemed to her as if +she might believe that this christening was, as it were, a pledge of +pardon, and an earnest of better things. + +Naylor, who had recovered much more slowly than Mr. Devereux, was at +church for the first time, and after the service Mr. Mohun sought him +out in the churchyard, and heartily shook hands with him. Lily would +gladly have followed his example, but she only stood by Eleanor and +Mrs. Weston, who were speaking to Mrs. Eden and Mrs. Naylor, admiring +the little boy, and praising him for his good behaviour in church. + +Love of babies was a strong bond between Mrs. Weston and Mrs. +Hawkesworth, who seemed to become well acquainted from the first +moment that little Henry was mentioned; and Lily was well pleased to +see that in Jane's phrase Eleanor 'took to her friends so well.' + +And yet this day brought with it some annoyances, which once would +have fretted her so much as to interfere even with such joy as she +now felt. The song, with which she had taken so much pains, ought to +have been sent home a week before, but owing to the delay caused by +Emily's carelessness, it had been burnt in the fire in the +schoolroom, and Lily could not feel herself forgiven till she had +talked the disaster over in private with her friend, and this was out +of her power throughout the day, for something always prevented her +from getting Alethea alone. In the morning Jane stuck close to her, +and in the afternoon William walked to the school gate with them. +But Alethea's manner was kinder towards her than ever, and she was +quite satisfied about her. + +It gave her more pain to perceive that Emily in every possible manner +avoided being alone with her. It was by her desire that Phyllis came +to sleep in their room; she would keep Jane talking there, give +Esther some employment which kept her in their presence, linger in +the drawing-room while Lilias was dressing, and at bedtime be too +sleepy to say anything but good-night. + +That Sunday was a sorrowful one to Eleanor; for in the course of the +conversation with Ada, which Mr. Mohun had desired her to hold, she +became conscious of the little girl's double-dealing ways. It was +only by a very close cross-examination that she was able to extract +from her a true account of the disaster, and though Ada never went so +far as actually to tell a falsehood, it was evident that she was +willing to conceal as much as possible, and to throw the blame on +other people. And when the real facts were confessed she did not +seem able to comprehend why she was regarded with displeasure; her +instinct of truth and obedience was lost for the time, and Eleanor +saw it with the utmost pain. Adeline had been her especial darling, +and cold as her manner had often been towards the others, it ever was +warm towards the motherless little one, whom she had tended and +cherished with most anxious care from her earliest infancy. She had +left her gentle, candid, and affectionate; a loving, engaging, little +creature, and how did she find her now? Her fair bright face +disfigured, her caresses affected, her mind turned to deceit and +prevarication! Well might Eleanor feel it more than ever painful to +leave her own little Henry to the care of others; and well it was for +her that she had learned to find comfort in the consciousness that +her duty was clear. + +The next morning Emily learned what was Henry's destination. + +'Oh! Eleanor,' said she, 'why do you not leave him here? We should +be so rejoiced to have him.' + +'Thank you, I am afraid it is out of the question,' answered Eleanor, +quietly. + +'Why, dear Eleanor? You know how glad we should be. I should have +thought,' proceeded Emily, a little hurt, 'that you would have wished +him to live in your own home.' + +Eleanor did not speak, and Emily, who had the little boy in her arms, +went on talking to him: 'Come, baby, let us persuade mamma to let +you stay with Aunt Emily. Ask papa, Henry, won't you? Seriously, +Eleanor, has Frank considered how much better it would be to have him +in the country?' + +'He has, Emily; he once wished much to leave him here.' + +'I am sure grandpapa would like it,' said Emily. 'Do you observe, +Eleanor, how fond he is of baby, always calling him Harry too, as if +he liked the sound of the name?' + +'It has all been talked over, Emily, and it cannot be.' + +'With papa?' asked Emily in surprise. + +'No, with Lily.' + +'With Lily!' exclaimed Emily. 'Did not Aunt Lily wish to keep you, +Harry? I thought she was very fond of you.' + +'You had better inquire no further,' said Eleanor, 'except of your +own conscience.' + +'Did Lily think us unfit to take care of him?' asked Emily, in +surprise. + +As she spoke Lily herself came in, the key of the storeroom in her +hand, and looks of consternation on her face. She came to announce a +terrible deficiency in the preserved quinces, which she herself had +carefully put aside on a shelf in the storeroom, and which Emily said +she had not touched in her absence. + +'Let me see,' said Eleanor, rising, and setting off to the storeroom; +Emily and Lily followed, with a sad suspicion of the truth. On the +way they looked into the nursery, to give little Henry to his nurse, +and to ask Jane, who was sitting with Ada, what she remembered about +it. Jane knew nothing, and they went on to the storeroom, where +Eleanor, quite in her element, began rummaging, arranging, and +sighing over the confusion, while Lily lent a helping hand, and Emily +stood by, wishing that her sister would not trouble herself. +Presently Jane came running up with a saucer in her hand, containing +a quarter of a quince and some syrup, which she said she had found in +the nursery cupboard, in searching for a puzzle which Ada wanted. + +'And,' said Jane, 'I should guess that Miss Ada herself knew +something about it, for when I could not find the puzzle in the +right-hand cupboard, she was so very unwilling that I should look +into that one; she said there was nothing there but the boys' old +playthings and Esther's clothes. And I do not know whether you saw +how she fidgeted when you were talking about the quinces, before you +went up.' + +'It is much too plain,' sighed Lily. 'Oh! Rachel, why did we not +listen to you?' + +'Do you suppose,' said Eleanor, 'that Ada has been in the habit of +taking the key and helping herself?' + +'No,' said Emily, 'but that Esther has helped her.' + +'Ah!' said Eleanor, 'I never thought it wise to take her, but how +could she get the key? You do not mean that you trusted it out of +your own keeping.' + +'It began while we were ill,' faltered Emily, 'and afterwards it was +difficult to bring matters into their former order.' + +'But oh, Eleanor, what is to be done?' sighed Lily. + +'Speak to papa, of course,' said Eleanor. 'He is gone to the castle, +and in the meantime we had better take an exact account of everything +here.' + +'And Esther? And Ada?' inquired the sisters. + +'I think it will be better to speak to him before making so grave an +accusation,' said Eleanor. + +They now commenced that wearisome occupation--a complete setting-to- +rights; Eleanor counted, weighed, and measured, and extended her +cares from the stores to every other household matter. Emily made +her escape, and went to sit with Ada; but Lily and Jane toiled for +several hours with Eleanor, till Lily was so heated and wearied that +she was obliged to give up a walk to Broomhill, and spend another day +without a talk with Alethea. However, she was so patient, ready, and +good-humoured, that Eleanor was well pleased with her. She could +hardly think of the slight vexation, when her mind was full of sorrow +and shame on Esther's account. It was she who, contrary to the +advice of her elders, had insisted on bringing her into the house; +she had allowed temptation to be set in her way, and had not taken +sufficient pains to strengthen her principles; and how could she do +otherwise than feel guilty of all Esther's faults, and of those into +which she had led Adeline? + +On Mr. Mohun's return Ada was interrogated. She pitied herself--said +she did not think papa would be angry--prevaricated--and tried to +coax away his inquiries, but all in vain; and at length, by slow +degrees, the confession was drawn from her that she had been used to +asking Esther for morsels of sweet things when she was sent to the +storeroom; that afterwards she had seen her packing up some tea and +sugar to take to her mother, and that Esther on that occasion, and +several others, purchased her silence by giving her a share of +pilfered sweetmeats. Telling her that he only spared her a very +severe punishment for the present, on account of her illness, Mr. +Mohun left her, and on his way downstairs met Phyllis. + +'Phyl,' said he, 'did Esther ever give you sweet things out of the +storeroom?' + +'Once, papa, when she had been putting out some currant jam, she +offered me what had been left in the spoon.' + +'Did you take it?' + +'No, papa, for Eleanor used to say it was a bad trick to lick out +spoons.' + +'Did you ever know that she took tea and sugar from the storeroom, +for her mother?' + +'Took home tea and sugar to her mother! She could not have done it, +papa. It would be stealing!' + +Esther, who was next called for, cried a great deal, and begged for +pardon, pleading again and again that - + +'It was mother,' an answer which made her young mistresses again sigh +over the remembrance of Rachel's disregarded advice. Her fate was +left for consideration and consultation with Mr. Devereux, for Mr. +Mohun, seeing himself to blame for having allowed her to be placed in +a situation of so much trial, and thinking that there was much that +was good about her, did not like to send her to her home, where she +was likely to learn nothing but what was bad. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV: LOVE'S LABOUR LOST + + + +'And well, with ready hand and heart, + Each task of toilsome duty taking, +Did one dear inmate take her part, + The last asleep, the earliest waking.' + +In the course of the afternoon Lord Rotherwood and Florence called, +to see Eleanor, inquire after Ada, and make the final arrangements +for going to a morning concert at Raynham the next day. Lady +Rotherwood was afraid of the fatigue, and Florence therefore wished +to accompany her cousins, who, as Eleanor meant to stay at home, were +to be under Mrs. Weston's protection. Lady Florence and her brother, +therefore, agreed to ride home by Broomhill, and mention the plan to +Mrs. Weston, and took their leave, appointing Adam's shop as the +place of rendezvous. + +Next morning Emily, Lilias, and Jane happened to be together in the +drawing-room, when Mr. Mohun and Claude came in, the former saying to +Lily, 'Here is the mason's account for the gravestone which you +wished to have put up to Agnes Eden; it comes to two pounds. You +undertook half the expense, and as Claude is going to Raynham, he +will pay for it if you will give him your sovereign.' + +'I will,' said Lily, 'but first I must ask Emily to pay me for the +London commissions.' + +Emily repented not having had a private conference with Lily. + +'So you have not settled your accounts,' said Mr. Mohun. 'I hope +Lily has not ruined you, Emily.' + +'I thought her a mirror of prudence,' said Claude. + +'Well, Emily, is the sovereign forthcoming? I am going directly, for +Frank has something to do at Raynham, and William is going to try his +gray in the phaeton.' + +'I am afraid you will think me very silly,' said Emily, after some +deliberation, 'but I hope Lily will not be very angry when I confess +that seven shillings is the sum total of my property.' + +'Oh, Emily,' cried Lily, in dismay, 'what has become of your five +pounds?' + +'I gave them as a subscription for a clergyman's widow in distress,' +said Emily; 'it was the impulse of a moment, I could not help it, +and, dear Lily, I hope it will not inconvenience you.' + +'If papa will be kind enough to wait for this pound till Michaelmas,' +said Lily. + +'I would wait willingly,' said Mr. Mohun, 'but I will not see you +cheated. How much does she owe you?' + +'The commissions came to six pounds three,' said Lily, looking down. + +'But, Lily,' said Jane, 'you forget the old debt.' + +'Never mind,' whispered Lily; but Mr. Mohun asked what Jane had said, +and Claude repeated her speech, upon which he inquired, 'What old +debt?' + +'Papa,' said Emily, in her most candid tone, 'I do not know what I +should have done but for Lily's kindness. Really, I cannot get on +with my present allowance; being the eldest, so many expenses come +upon me.' + +'Then am I to understand,' replied Mr. Mohun, 'that your foolish +vanity has led you to encroach on your sister's kindness, and to +borrow of her what you had no reasonable hope of repaying? Again, +Lily, what does she owe you?' + +Emily felt the difference between the sharp, curious eyes with which +Jane regarded her, and the sorrowful downcast looks of Lily, who +replied, 'The old debt is four pounds, but that does not signify.' + +'Well,' resumed her father, 'I cannot blame you for your good-nature, +though an older person might have acted otherwise. You must have +managed wonderfully well, to look always so well dressed with only +half your proper income. Here is the amount of the debt. Is it +right? And, Lily, one thing more; I wish to thank you for what you +have done towards keeping this house in order. You have worked hard, +and endured much, and from all I can gather, you have prevented much +mischief. Much has unfairly been thrown upon you, and you have well +and steadily done your duty. For you, Emily, I have more to say to +you, but I shall not enter on it at present, for it is late. You had +better get ready, or you will keep the others waiting.' + +'I do not think I can go,' sighed Emily. + +'You are wanted,' said Mr. Mohun. 'I do not think your aunt would +like Florence to go without you.' + +Lily had trembled as much under her father's praise as Emily under +his blame. She did not feel as if his commendation was merited, and +longed to tell him of her faults and follies, but this was no fit +time, and she hastened to prepare for her expedition, her spirits +scarcely in time for a party of pleasure. Jane talked about the +30th, and asked questions about London, all the way to Raynham, and +both Emily and Lily were glad to join in her chatter, in hopes of +relieving their own embarrassment. + +On arriving at the place of meeting they found Lady Florence watching +for them. + +'I am glad you are come,' said she, 'Rotherwood will always set out +either too soon or too late, and this time it was too soon, so here +we have been full a quarter of an hour, but he does not care. There +he is, quite engrossed with his book.' + +Lord Rotherwood was standing by the counter, reading so intently that +he did not see his cousins' arrival. When they entered he just +looked up, shook hands, asked after Ada, and went on reading. Lily +began looking for some books for the school, which she had long +wished for, and was now able to purchase; Emily sat down in a +melancholy, abstracted mood, and Florence and Jane stood together +talking. + +'You know you are all to come early,' said the former, 'I do not know +how we should manage without you. Rotherwood insists on having +everything the same day--poor people first, and gentry and farmers +altogether. Mamma does not like it, and I expect we shall be +dreadfully tired; but he says he will not have the honest poor men +put out for the fashionables; and you know we are all to dance with +everybody. But Jenny, who is this crossing the street? Look, you +have an eye for oddities.' + +'Miss Fitchett, the subscription-hunter,' said Jane. + +'She is actually coming to hunt us. I believe I have my purse. Oh! +Emily is to be the first victim.' + +Miss Fitchett advanced to Emily, and saying that she believed she had +the honour to address Miss Mohun, began to tell her that her friend +having been prematurely informed of her small efforts, had with a +noble spirit of independence begged that the subscription might not +be continued, and that what had already been given might be returned, +and she rejoiced in this opportunity of making the explanation. But +Miss Fitchett could not bear to relinquish the five-pound note, and +added, that perhaps Miss Mohun might not object to apply her +subscription to some other object, the Dorcas Society for instance. + +'Thank you, I have no interest in the Dorcas Society,' said Emily; a +reply which brought upon her a full account of all its aims and +objects; and as still her polite looks spoke nothing of assent, Miss +Fitchett went on with a string of other societies, speaking the +louder and the more eagerly in the hope of attracting the attention +of the young marquis and his sister. Emily was easily overwhelmed +with words, and not thinking it lady-like to claim her money, yet +feeling that none of these societies were fit objects for it, she +stood confused and irresolute, unwilling either to consent or refuse. +Jane, perceiving her difficulty, turned to Lord Rotherwood, and +rousing him from his book, explained Emily's distress in a few words, +and sent him to her rescue. He stepped forward just as Miss +Fitchett, taking silence for consent, was proceeding to thank Emily; +'I think you misunderstand Miss Mohun,' said he. 'Since her +subscription is not needed by the person for whom it was intended, +she would be glad to have it restored. She does not wish to +encourage any unauthorised societies.' + +Boy as he was, in appearance still more than in age, there was a +dignity in his manner which, together with the principle on which he +spoke, overawed Miss Fitchett even more than his rank. She only +said, 'Oh! my lord, I beg your pardon. Certainly, only--' + +The note was placed in Emily's hands, and with a bow from Lord +Rotherwood, she retreated, murmuring to herself the remonstrance +which she had not courage to bestow upon the Marquis. + +'Thank you, thank you, Rotherwood,' said Emily; 'you have done me a +great service.' + +'Well done, Rotherwood,' said Florence; 'you have given the old lady +something to reflect upon.' + +'Made a public announcement of principle,' said Lily. + +'I was determined to give her a reason,' said the Marquis, laughing, +'but I assure you I felt like the stork with its head in the wolf's +mouth, I thought she would give me a screed of doctrine. How came +you to let your property get unto her clutches, Emily?' + +'It was a subscription for Mrs. Aylmer,' said Emily. + +'Our curate's wife!' cried he with a start; 'how was it? Florence, +did you know anything? I thought she was in London. Why were we in +the dark? Tell me all.' + +'All I know is that she is living somewhere in Raynham, and last week +there was a paper here to say that she was in want of the means of +fitting out her son for India.' + +'Yes, yes, Johnny, I know my father did get a promise for him--well!' + +'That is all I know, except that she does not choose to be a beggar.' + +'Poor Mrs. Aylmer! shameful neglect! she shall not be ill-used any +longer, I will find her out this instant. Don't wait for me.' + +And after a few words to Mr. Adams, off he went, walking as fast as +he could, and leaving the young ladies not without fear of another +invasion. Soon, however, the brothers came in, and presently after +Mrs. Weston appeared. It was agreed that Lord Rotherwood should be +left to his own devices, and they set out for the concert-room. Poor +Florence lost much pleasure in disappointment at his non-appearance, +but when the concert was over they found him sitting in the carriage, +reading. As soon as they appeared he sprang out, and came to meet +them, pouring rapidly out a history of his adventures. + +'Then you have found them, and what can be done for them?' + +'Everything ought to be done, but Mrs. Aylmer has a spirit of +independence. That foolish woman's advertisement was unknown to her +till Emily's five pounds came in, so fine a nest-egg that she could +not help cackling, whereupon Mrs. Aylmer insisted on having every +farthing returned.' + +'Can she provide the boy's outfit?' + +'She says so, or rather that her daughter can, but I shall see about +that. It is worth while to be of age. Imagine! That bank which +failed was the end of my father's legacy. They must have lived on a +fraction of nothing! Edward went to sea. Miss Aylmer went out as a +governess. Now she is at home.' + +'Miss Aylmer!' exclaimed Miss Weston, 'I know she was a clergyman's +daughter. Do you know the name of the family she lived with?' + +'Was it Grant?' said William. 'I remember hearing of her going to +some Grants.' + +'It was,' said Alethea; 'she must be the same. Is she at home?' + +'Yes,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'and you may soon see her, for I mean to +have them all to stay at the castle as soon as our present visitors +are gone. My mother and Florence shall call upon them on Friday.' + +'Now,' said Claude, 'I have not found out what brought them back to +Raynham.' + +'Have you lived at Beechcroft all your life, and never discovered +that there is a grammar-school at Raynham, with special privileges +for the sons of clergymen of the diocese?' + +A few more words, and the cousins parted; Emily by no means sorry +that she had been obliged to go to Raynham. She tendered the five- +pound note to her father, but he desired her to wait till Friday, and +then to bring him a full account of her expenditure of the year. Her +irregular ways made this almost impossible, especially as in the +present state of affairs she wished to avoid a private conference +with either Lily or Jane. She was glad that an invitation to dine +and sleep at the castle on Wednesday would save her from the peril of +having to talk to Lily in the evening. Reginald came home on +Tuesday, to the great joy of all the party, and especially to that of +Phyllis. This little maiden was more puzzled by the events that had +taken place than conscious of the feeling which she had once thought +must be so delightful. She could scarcely help perceiving that every +one was much more kind to her than usual, especially Claude and Lily, +and Lord Rotherwood said things which she could not at all +understand. Her observation to Reginald was, 'Was it not lucky I had +a cough on Twelfth Day, or Claude would not have told me what to do +about gunpowder?' + +Reginald troubled Phyllis much by declaring that nothing should +induce him to kiss his nephew, and she was terribly shocked by the +indifference with which Eleanor treated his neglect, even when it +branched out into abuse of babies in general, and in particular of +Henry's bald head and turned-up nose. + +In the evening of Wednesday Phyllis was sitting with Ada in the +nursery, when Reginald came up with the news that the party +downstairs were going to practise country dances. Eleanor was to +play, Claude was to dance with Lily, and Frank with Jane, and he +himself wanted Phyllis for a partner. + +'Oh!' sighed Ada, 'I wish I was there to dance with you, Redgie! +What are the others doing?' + +'Maurice is reading, and William went out as soon as dinner was over; +make haste, Phyl.' + +'Don't go,' said Ada, 'I shall be alone all to-morrow, and I want +you.' + +'Nonsense,' said Reginald, 'do you think she is to sit poking here +all day, playing with those foolish London things of yours?' + +'But I am ill, Redgie. I wish you would not be cross. Everybody is +cross to me now, I think.' + +'I will stay, Ada,' said Phyllis. 'You know, Redgie, I dance like a +cow.' + +'You dance better than nothing,' said Reginald, 'I must have you.' + +'But you are not ill, Redgie,' said Phyllis. + +He went down in displeasure, and was forced to consider Sir Maurice's +picture as his partner, until presently the door opened, and Phyllis +appeared. 'So you have thought better of it,' cried he. + +'No,' said Phyllis, 'I cannot come to dance, but Ada wants you to +leave off playing. She says the music makes her unhappy, for it +makes her think about to-morrow.' + +'Rather selfish, Miss Ada,' said Claude. + +'Stay here, Phyllis, now you are come,' said Mr. Mohun, 'I will go +and speak to Ada.' + +Phyllis was now captured, and made to take her place opposite to +Reginald; but more than once she sighed under the apprehension that +Ada was receiving a lecture. This was the case; and very little did +poor Ada comprehend the change that had taken place in the conduct of +almost every one towards her; she did not perceive that she was +particularly naughty, and yet she had suddenly become an object of +blame, instead of a spoiled pet. Formerly her little slynesses had +been unnoticed, and her overbearing ways towards Phyllis scarcely +remarked, but now they were continually mentioned as grievous faults. +Esther, her especial friend and comforter, was scarcely allowed to +come into the same room with her; Hannah treated her with a kind of +grave, silent respect, far from the familiarity which she liked; +little Henry's nurse never would talk to her, and if it had not been +for Phyllis, she would have been very miserable. On Phyllis, +however, she repaid herself for all the mortifications that she +received, while the sweet-tempered little girl took all her +fretfulness and exactions as results of her illness, and went on +pitying her, and striving to please her. + +When Phyllis came up to wish her good-night, she was received with an +exclamation at her lateness in a peevish tone: 'Yes, I am late,' +said Phyllis, merrily, 'but we had not done dancing till tea-time, +and then Eleanor was so kind as to say I might sit up to have some +tea with them.' + +'Ah! and you quite forgot how tiresome it is up here, with nobody to +speak to,' said Ada. 'How cross they were not to stop the music when +I said it made me miserable!' + +'Claude said it was selfish to want to stop five people's pleasure +for one,' said Phyllis. + +'But I am so ill,' said Ada. 'If Claude was as uncomfortable as I +am, he would know how to be sorry for me. And only think--Phyl, what +are you doing? Do not you know I do not like the moonlight to come +on me. It is like a great face laughing at me.' + +'Well, I like the moon so much!' said Phyllis, creeping behind the +curtain to look out, 'there is something so white and bright in it; +when it comes on the bed-clothes, it makes me go to sleep, thinking +about white robes, oh! and all sorts of nice things.' + +'I can't bear the moon,' said Ada; 'do not you know, Maurice says +that the moon makes the people go mad, and that is the reason it is +called lunacy, after la lune?' + +'I asked Miss Weston about that,' said Phyllis, 'because of the +Psalm, and she said it was because it was dangerous to go to sleep in +the open air in hot countries. Ada, I wish you could see now. There +is the great round moon in the middle of the sky, and the sky such a +beautiful colour, and a few such great bright stars, and the trees so +dark, and the white lilies standing up on the black pond, and the +lawn all white with dew! what a fine day it will be to-morrow!' + +'A fine day for you!' said Ada, 'but only think of poor me all alone +by myself.' + +'You will have baby,' said Phyllis. + +'Baby--if he could talk it would be all very well. It is just like +the cross people in books. Here I shall lie and cry all the time, +while you are dancing about as merry as can be.' + +'No, no, Ada, you will not do that,' said Phyllis, with tears in her +eyes. 'There is baby with all his pretty ways, and you may teach him +to say Aunt Ada, and I will bring you in numbers of flowers, and +there is your new doll, and all the pretty things that came from +London, and the new book of Fairy Tales, and all sorts--oh! no, do +not cry, Ada.' + +'But I shall, for I shall think of you dancing, and not caring for +me.' + +'I do care, Ada--why do you say that I do not? I cannot bear it, +Ada, dear Ada.' + +'You don't, or you would not go and leave me alone.' + +'Then, Ada, I will not go,' said Phyllis; 'I could not bear to leave +you crying here all alone.' + +'Thank you, dear good Phyl, but I think you will not have much loss. +You know you do not like dancing, and you cannot do it well, and they +will be sure to laugh at you.' + +'And I daresay Redgie and Marianne will tell us all about it,' said +Phyllis, sighing. 'I should rather like to have seen it, but they +will tell us.' + +'Then do you promise to stay?--there's a dear,' said Ada. + +'Yes,' said Phyllis. 'Cousin Robert is coming in, and that will be +very nice, and I hope he will not look as he did the day the +gunpowder went off--oh, dear!' She went back to the window to get +rid of her tears unperceived. 'Ah,' cried she, 'there is some one in +the garden!' + +'A man!' screamed Ada--'a thief, a robber--call somebody!' + +'No, no,' said Phyllis, laughing, 'it is only William; he has been +out all the evening, and now papa has come out to speak to him, and +they are walking up and down together. I wonder whether he has been +sitting with Cousin Robert or at Broomhill! Well, good-night, Ada. +Here comes Hannah.' + + + +CHAPTER XXV: THE THIRTIETH OF JULY + + + +'The heir, with roses in his shoes, +That night might village partner choose.' + +The 30th of July was bright and clear, and Phyllis was up early, +gathering flowers, which, with the help of Jane's nimble fingers, she +made into elegant little bouquets for each of her sisters, and for +Claude. + +'How is this?' said Mr. Hawkesworth, pretending to look disconsolate, +'am I to sing "Fair Phyllida flouts me," or why is my button-hole +left destitute?' + +'Perhaps that is for you on the side-table,' said Lily. + +'Oh! no,' said Phyllis, 'those are some Provence roses for Miss +Weston and Marianne, because Miss Weston likes those, and they have +none at Broomhill. Redgie is going to take care of them. I will get +you a nosegay, Frank. I did not know you liked it.' + +She started up. 'How prudent, Phyllis,' said Eleanor, 'not to have +put on your muslin frock yet.' + +'Oh! I am not going,' said Phyllis. + +'Not going!' was the general outcry. + +'No, poor Ada cries so about being left at home with only baby, that +I cannot bear it, and so I promised to stay.' + +Away went Phyllis, and Reginald exclaimed, 'Well, she shall not be +served so. I will go and tell Ada so this instant.' + +Off he rushed, and putting in his head at the nursery door, shouted, +'Ada, I am come to tell you that Phyl is not to be made your black-a- +moor slave! She shall go, that is settled.' + +Down he went with equal speed, without waiting for an answer, and +arrived while Eleanor was saying that she thought Ada was provided +with amusement with the baby, her playthings, and books, and that Mr. +Devereux had promised to make her a visit. + +'Anybody ought to stay at home rather than Phyllis,' said Lily; 'I +think I had better stay.' + +'No, no, Lily,' said Jane, 'you are more wanted than I am; you are +really worth talking to and dancing with; I had much better be at +home.' + +'I forgot!' exclaimed William. 'Mrs. Weston desired me to say that +she is not going, and she will take care of Ada. Mr. Weston will set +her down at half-past ten, and take up one of us.' + +'I will be that one,' said Reginald, 'I have not seen Miss Weston +since I came home. I meant to walk to Broomhill after dinner +yesterday, only the Baron stopped me about that country-dance. Last +Christmas I made her promise to dance with me to-day.' + +Lily had hoped to be that one, but she did not oppose Reginald, and +turned to listen to Eleanor, who was saying, 'Let us clearly +understand how every one is to go, it will save a great deal of +confusion. You and Jane, and Maurice, go in the phaeton, do not you? +And who drives you?' + +'William, I believe,' said Lily. 'Claude goes earlier, so he rides +the gray. Then there is the chariot for you and Frank, and papa and +Phyllis.' + +So it was proposed, but matters turned out otherwise. The phaeton, +which, with a promoted cart-horse, was rather a slow conveyance, was +to set out first, but the whole of the freight was not ready in time. +The ladies were in the hall as soon as it came to the door, but +neither of the gentlemen were forthcoming. Reginald, who was +wandering in the hall, was sent to summon them; but down he came in +great wrath. Maurice had declared that he was not ready, and they +must wait for him till he had tied his neckcloth, which Reginald +opined would take three quarters of an hour, as he was doing it +scientifically, and William had said that he was not going in the gig +at all, that he had told Wat Greenwood to drive, and that Reginald +must go instead of Maurice. + +In confirmation of the startling fact Wat, who had had a special +invitation from the Marquis, was sitting in the phaeton in his best +black velvet coat. Jane only hoped that Emily would not look out of +the window, or she would certainly go into fits on seeing them arrive +with the old phaeton, the thick-legged cart-horse, and Wat Greenwood +for a driver; and Reginald, after much growling at Maurice, much +bawling at William's door, and, as Jane said, romping and roaring in +all parts of the house, was forced to be resigned to his fate, and +all the way to Hetherington held a very amusing conversation with his +good-natured friend the keeper. + +They were overtaken, nodded to, and passed by the rest of their +party. Maurice had been reduced to ride the pony, William came with +the 'Westons, and the chariot load was just as had been before +arranged. + +Claude came out to meet them at the door, saying, 'I need not have +gone so early. What do you think has become of the hero of the day? +Guess, I will just give you this hint, + + +"Though on pleasure he was bent, he had no selfish mind."' + + +'Oh! the Aylmers, I suppose,' said Lilias. + +'Right, Lily, he heard something at dinner yesterday about a school +for clergymen's sons, which struck him as likely to suit young +Devereux Aylmer, and off he set at seven o'clock this morning to +Raynham, to breakfast with Mrs. Aylmer, and talk to her about it. +Never let me hear again that he is engrossed with his own affairs!' + +'And why is he in such a hurry?' asked Lily. + +''Tis his nature,' said Claude, 'besides Travers, who mentioned this +school, goes away to-morrow. My aunt is in a fine fright lest he +should not come back in time. Did not you hear her telling papa so +in the drawing-room?' + +'There he is, riding up to the door,' said Phyllis, who had joined +them in the hall. Lord Rotherwood stopped for a few moments at the +door to give some directions to the servants, and then came quickly +in. 'Ah, there you are!--What time is it? It is all right, Claude-- +Devereux is just the right age. I asked him a few questions this +morning, and he will stand a capital examination. Ha, Phyl, I am +glad to see you.' + +'I wish you many happy returns of the day, Cousin Rotherwood.' + +'Thank you, Phyl, we had better see how we get through one such day +before we wish it to return. Are the rest come?' + +He went on into the drawing-room, and hastily informing his mother +that he had sent the carriage to fetch Miss Aylmer and her brothers +to the feast, called Claude to come out on the lawn to look at the +preparations. The bowling-green was to serve as drawing-room, and at +one end was pitched an immense tent where the dinner was to be. + +'I say, Claude,' said he in his quickest and most confused way, 'I +depend upon you for one thing. Do not let the Baron be too near me.' + +'The Baron of Beef?' said Claude. + +'No, the Baron of Beechcroft. If you wish my speech to be radara +tadara, put him where I can imagine that he hears me.' + +'Very well,' said Claude, laughing; 'have you any other commands?' + +'No--yes, I have though. You know what we settled about the toasts. +Hunt up old Farmer Elderfield as soon as he comes, and do not +frighten him. If you could sit next to him and make him get up at +the right time, it would be best. Tell him I will not let any one +propose my health but my great-grandfather's tenant. You will manage +it best. And tell Frank Hawkesworth, and Mr. Weston, or some of +them, to manage so that the gentry may not sit together in a herd, +two or three together would be best. Mind, Claude, I depend on you +for being attentive to all the damsels. I cannot be everywhere at +once, and I see your great Captain will be of no use to me.' + +Here news was brought that the labourers had begun to arrive, and the +party went to the walnut avenue, where the feast was spread. It was +pleasant to see so many poor families enjoying their excellent +dinner; but perhaps the pleasantest sight was the lord of the feast +speaking to each poor man with all his bright good-natured +cordiality. Mr. Mohun was surprised to see how well he knew them +all, considering how short a time he had been among them, and Lilias +found Florence rise in her estimation, when she perceived that the +inside of the Hetherington cottages were not unknown to her. + +'Do you know, Florence,' said she, as they walked back to the house +together, 'I did you great injustice? I never expected you to know +or care about poor people.' + +'No more I did till this winter,' said Florence; 'I could not do +anything, you know, before. Indeed, I do not do much now, only +Rotherwood has made me go into the school now and then; and when +first we came, he made it his especial request that whenever a poor +woman came to ask for anything I would go and speak to her. And so I +could not help being interested about those I knew.' + +'How odd it is that we never talked about it,' said Lily. + +'I never talk of it,' said Florence, 'because mamma never likes to +hear of my going into cottages with Rotherwood. Besides, somehow I +thought you did it as a matter of duty, and not of pleasure. Oh! +Rotherwood, is that you?' + +'The Aylmers are come,' said Lord Rotherwood, drawing her arm into +his, 'and I want you to come and speak to them, Florence and Lily; I +can't find any one; all the great elders have vanished. You know +them of old, do not you, Lily?' + +'Of old? Yes; but of so old that I do not suppose they will know me. +You must introduce me.' + +He hastened them to the drawing-room, where they found Miss Aylmer, a +sensible, lady-like looking person, and two brothers, of about +fifteen and thirteen. + +'Well, Miss Aylmer, I have brought you two old friends; so old, that +they think you have forgotten them--my cousin Lilias, and my sister +Florence.' + +'We have not forgotten you, Miss Aylmer,' said Florence, warmly +shaking hands with her. 'You seem so entirely to belong to +Hetherington that I scarcely knew the place without you.' + +There was something that particularly pleased Lily in the manner in +which Miss Aylmer answered. Florence talked a little while, and then +proposed to adjourn to the supplementary drawing-room--the lawn-- +where the company were already assembling. + +Florence was soon called off to receive some other guest, and Lilias +spent a considerable time in sitting under a tree talking to Miss +Aylmer, whom she found exceedingly pleasant and agreeable, +remembering all that had happened during their former intercourse, +and interested in everything that was going on. Lily was much amused +when her companion asked her who that gentleman was--'that tall, thin +young man, with dark hair, whom she had seen once or twice speaking +to Lord Rotherwood?' + +The tall gentleman advanced, spoke to Miss Aylmer, told Lily that the +world was verging towards the tent, and giving one arm to her and the +other to Miss Aylmer, took that direction. In the meantime Phyllis +had been walking about with her eldest sister, and wondering what had +become of all the others. In process of time she found herself +seated on a high bench in the tent, with a most beautiful pink-and- +white sugar temple on the table before her. She was between Eleanor +and Frank. All along one side of the table was a row of faces which +she had never seen before, and she gazed at them in search of some +well-known countenance. At last Mr. Weston caught her eye, and +nodded to her. Next to him she saw Marianne, then Reginald; on the +other side Alethea and William. A little tranquillised by seeing +that every one was not lost, she had courage to eat some cold +chicken, to talk to Frank about the sugar temple, and to make an +inventory in her mind of the smartest bonnets for Ada's benefit. She +was rather unhappy at not having found out when grace was said before +dinner, and she made Eleanor promise to tell her in time to stand up +after dinner. She could not, however, hear much, though warned in +time, and by this time more at ease and rather enjoying herself than +otherwise. Now Eleanor told her to listen, for Cousin Rotherwood was +going to speak. She listened, but knew not what was said, until Mr. +Hawkesworth told her it was Church and Queen. What Church and Queen +had to do with Cousin Rotherwood's birthday she could not imagine, +and she laid it up in her mind to ask Claude. The next time she was +told to listen she managed to hear more. By the help of Eleanor's +directions, she found out the speaker, an aged farmer, in a drab +greatcoat, his head bald, excepting a little silky white hair, which +fell over the collar of his coat. It was Mr. Elderfield, the oldest +tenant on the estate, and he was saying in a slow deliberate tone +that he was told he was to propose his lordship's health. It was a +great honour for the like of him, and his lordship must excuse him if +he did not make a fine speech. All he could say was, that he had +lived eighty-three years on the estate, and held his farm nearly +sixty years; he had seen three marquises of Rotherwood besides his +present lordship, and he had always found them very good landlords. +He hoped and believed his lordship was like his fathers, and he was +sure he could do no better than tread in their steps. He proposed +the health of Lord Rotherwood, and many happy returns of the day to +him. + +The simplicity and earnestness of the old man's tones were +appreciated by all, and the tremendous cheer, which almost terrified +Phyllis, was a fit assent to the hearty good wishes of the old +farmer. + +'Now comes the trial!' whispered Claude to Lilias, after he had +vehemently contributed his proportion to the noise. Lilias saw that +his colour had risen, as much as if he had to make a speech himself, +and he earnestly examined the coronet on his fork, while every other +eye was fixed on the Marquis. Eloquence was not to be expected; but, +at least, Lord Rotherwood spoke clearly and distinctly. + +'My friends,' said he, 'you must not expect much of a speech from me; +I can only thank you for your kindness, say how glad I am to see you +here, and tell you of my earnest desire that I may not prove myself +unworthy to be compared with my forefathers.' Here was a pause. +Claude's hand shook, and Lily saw how anxious he was, but in another +moment the Marquis went on smoothly. 'Now, I must ask you to drink +the health of a gentleman who has done his utmost to compensate for +the loss which we sustained nine years ago, and to whom I owe any +good intentions which I may bring to the management of this property. +I beg leave to propose the health of my uncle, Mr. Mohun, of +Beechcroft.' + +Claude was much surprised, for his cousin had never given him a hint +of his intention. It was a moment of great delight to all the young +Mohuns when the cheer rose as loud and hearty as for the young lord +himself, and Phyllis smiled, and wondered, when she saw her papa rise +to make answer. He said that he could not attempt to answer Lord +Rotherwood, as he had not heard what he said, but that he was much +gratified by his having thought of him on this occasion, and by the +goodwill which all had expressed. This was the last speech that was +interesting; Lady Rotherwood's health and a few more toasts followed, +and the party then left the tent for the lawn, where the cool air was +most refreshing, and the last beams of the evening sun were lighting +the tops of the trees. + +The dancing was now to begin, and this was the time for Claude to be +useful. He had spent so much time at home, and had accompanied his +father so often in his rides, that he knew every one, and he was +inclined to make every exertion in the cause of his cousin, and on +this occasion seemed to have laid aside his indolence and +disinclination to speak to strangers. + +Lady Florence was also indefatigable, darting about, with a wonderful +perception who everybody was, and with whom each would like to dance. +She seized upon little Devereux Aylmer for her own partner before any +one else had time to ask her, and carried him about the lawn, hunting +up and pairing other shy people. + +'Why, Reginald, what are you about? You can manage a country-dance. +Make haste; where is your partner?' + +'I meant to dance with Miss Weston,' said Reginald, piteously. + +'Miss Weston? Here she is.' + +'That is only Marianne,' said Reginald. + +'Oh! Miss Weston is dancing with William. Marianne, will you accept +my apologies for this discourteous cousin of mine? I am perfectly +horror-struck. There, Redgie, take her with a good grace; you will +never have a better partner.' + +Marianne was only too glad to have Reginald presented to her, +ungracious as he was, but the poor little couple met with numerous +disasters. They neither of them knew the way through a country- +dance, and were almost run over every time they went down the middle; +Reginald's heels were very inconvenient to his neighbours; so much +so, that once Claude thought it expedient to admonish him, that +dancing was not merely an elegant name for football without a ball. +Every now and then some of their friends gave them a hasty intimation +that they were all wrong, but that they knew already but too well. +At last, just when Marianne had turned scarlet with vexation, and +Reginald was growing so desperate that he had thoughts of running a +way, the dance came to an end, and Reginald, with very scanty +politeness to his partner, rushed away to her sister, saying, in +rather a reproachful tone, 'Miss Weston, you promised to dance with +me.' + +'I have not forgotten my promise,' said Alethea, smiling. + +At the same moment Claude hurried up, saying, 'William, I want a +partner for Miss Wilkins, of the Wold Farm. Miss Wilkins, let me +introduce Captain Mohun.' + +'You see I have made the Captain available,' said Claude, presently +after meeting Lord Rotherwood, as he speeded across the lawn. + +'Have you? I did not think him fair game,' said the Marquis. 'Where +is your heroine, Claude? I have not seen her dancing.' + +'What heroine? What do you mean?' + +'Honest Phyl, of course. Did you think I meant Miss Weston?' + +'With Eleanor, somewhere. Is the next dance a quadrille?' + +Lord Rotherwood ran up the bank to the terraced walks, where the +undancing part of the company sat or walked about. Soon he spied +Phyllis standing by Eleanor, looking rather wearied. 'Phyllis, can +you dance a quadrille?' + +Phyllis opened her eyes, and Eleanor desired her to answer. + +'Come, Phyllis, let me see what M. Le Roi has done for you.' + +He led her away, wondering greatly, and thinking how very good- +natured Cousin Rotherwood was. + +Emily was much surprised to find Phyllis her vis a vis. Emily was +very generally known and liked, and had no lack of grand partners, +but she would have liked to dance with the Marquis. When the +quadrille was over, she was glad to put herself in his way, by coming +up to take charge of Phyllis. + +'Well done, Phyl,' said he; 'no mistakes. You must have another +dance. Whom shall we find for you?' + +'Oh! Rotherwood,' said Emily, 'you cannot think how you gratified us +all with your speech.' + +'Ah! I always set my heart on saying something of the kind; but I +wished I could have dared to add the bride's health.' + +'The bride!' + +'Do not pretend to have no eyes,' said Lord Rotherwood, with a +significant glance, which directed Emily's eyes to the terrace, where +Mr. Mohun and Alethea were walking together in eager conversation. + +Emily was ready to sink into the earth. Jane's surmises, and the +mysterious words of her father, left her no further doubt. At this +moment some one asked her to dance, and scarcely knowing what she did +or said, she walked to her place. Lord Rotherwood now found a +partner for Phyllis, and a farmer's daughter for himself. + +This dance over, Phyllis's partner did not well know how to dispose +of her, and she grew rather frightened on finding that none of her +sisters were in sight. At last she perceived Reginald standing on +the bank, and made her escape to him. + +'Redgie, did you see who I have been dancing with? Cousin Rotherwood +and Claude's grand Oxford friend--Mr. Travers.' + +'It is all nonsense,' said Reginald. 'Come out of this mob of +people.' + +'But where is Eleanor?' + +'Somewhere in the midst. They are all absurd together.' + +'What is the matter, Redgie?' asked Phyllis, unable to account for +this extraordinary fit of misanthropy. + +'Papa and William both driving me about like a dog,' said Reginald; +'first I danced with Miss Weston--then she saw that woman--that Miss +Aylmer--shook hands--talked--and then nothing would serve her but to +find papa. As soon as the Baron sees me he cries out, "Why are not +you dancing, Redgie? We do not want you!" Up and down they walk, +ever so long, and presently papa turns off, and begins talking to +Miss Aylmer. Then, of course, I went back to Miss Weston, but then +up comes William, as savage as one of his Canadian bears; he orders +me off too, and so here I am! I am sure I am not going to ask any +one else to dance. Come and walk with me in peace, Phyl. Do you see +them?--Miss Weston and Marianne under that tulip-tree, and the +Captain helping them to ice.' + +'Redgie, did you give Miss Weston her nosegay? Some one put such +beautiful flowers in it, such as I never saw before.' + +'How could I? They sent me off with Lily and Jane. I told William I +had the flowers in charge, and he said he would take care of them. +By the bye, Phyl,' and Reginald gave a wondrous spring, 'I have it! +I have it! I have it! If he is not in love with Miss Weston you may +call me an ass for the rest of my life.' + +'I should not like to call you an ass, Redgie,' said Phyllis. + +'Very likely; but do not make me call you one. Hurrah! Now ask +Marianne if it is not so. Marianne must know. How jolly! I say, +Phyl, stay there, and I will fetch Marianne.' + +Away ran Reginald, and presently returned with Marianne, who was very +glad to be invited to join Phyllis. She little knew what an +examination awaited her. + +'Marianne,' began Phyllis, 'I'll tell you what--' + +'No, I will do it right,' said Reginald; 'you know nothing about it, +Phyl. Marianne, is not something going on there?' + +'Going on?' said Marianne, 'Alethea is speaking to Mrs. Hawkesworth.' + +'Nonsense, I know better, Marianne. I have a suspicion that I could +tell what the Captain was about yesterday when he walked off after +dinner.' + +'How very wise you think you look, Reginald!' said Marianne, laughing +heartily. + +'But tell us; do tell us, Marianne,' said Phyllis. + +'Tell you whet?' + +'Whether William is going to marry Miss Weston,' said the +straightforward Phyllis. 'Redgie says so--only tell us. Oh! it +would be so nice!' + +'How you blurt it out, Phyl,' said Reginald. 'You do not know how +those things are managed. Mind, I found it out all myself. Just +say, Marianne. Am not I right?' + +'I do not know whether I ought to tell,' said Marianne. + +'Oh! then it is all right,' said Reginald, 'and I found it out. Now, +Marianne, there is a good girl, tell us all about it.' + +'You know I could not say "No" when you asked me,' said Marianne; 'I +could not help it really; but pray do not tell anybody, or Captain +Mohun will not like it.' + +'Does any one know?' said Reginald. + +'Only ourselves and Mr. Mohun; and I think Lord Rotherwood guesses, +from something I heard him say to Jane.' + +'To Jane?' said Reginald. 'That is provoking; she will think she +found it out all herself, and be so conceited!' + +'You need not be afraid,' said Marianne, laughing; 'Jane is on a +wrong scent.' + +'Jane? Oh! I should like to see her out in her reckonings! I should +like to have a laugh against her. What does she think, Marianne?' + +'Oh! I cannot tell you; it is too bad.' + +'Oh! do; do, pray. You may whisper it if it is too bad for Phyllis +to hear.' + +'No, no,' said Marianne; 'it is nothing but nonsense. If you hear +it, Phyllis shall too; but mind, you must promise not to say anything +to anybody, or I do not know what will become of me.' + +'Well, we will not,' said Reginald; 'boys can always keep secrets, +and I'll engage for Phyl. Now for it.' + +'She is in a terrible fright lest it should be Mr. Mohun. She got it +into her head last autumn, and all I could say would not persuade her +out of it. Why, she always calls me Aunt Marianne when we are alone. +Now, Reginald, here comes Maurice. Do not say anything, I beg and +entreat. It is my secret, you know. I daresay you will all be told +to-morrow,--indeed, mamma said so,--but pray say nothing about me or +Jane. It was only settled yesterday evening.' + +At this moment Maurice came up, with a message that Miss Weston and +Eleanor were going away, and wanted the little girls. They followed +him to the tent, which had been cleared of the tables, and lighted +up, in order that the dancing might continue there. Most of their +own party were collected at the entrance, watching for them. Lilias +came up just as they did, and exclaimed in a tone of disappointment, +on finding them preparing to depart. She had enjoyed herself +exceedingly, found plenty of partners, and was not in the least +tired. + +'Why should she not stay?' said William. 'Claude has engaged to stay +to the end of everything, and he may as well drive her as ride the +gray.' + +'And you, Jenny,' said Mr. Mohun, 'do you like to stay or go? +Alethea will make room for you in the pony-carriage, or you may go +with Eleanor. + +'With Eleanor, if you please,' said Jane. + +'Already, Jane?' said Lily. 'Are you tired?' + +Jane drew her aside. 'Tired of hearing that I was right about what +you would not believe. Did you not hear what he called her? And +Rotherwood has found it out.' + +'It is all gossip and mistake,' said Lily. + +Here Jane was called away by Eleanor, and departed with her; Lilias +went to look for her aunt or Florence, but on the way was asked to +dance by Mr. Carrington. + +'I suppose I may congratulate you,' said he in one of the pauses in +the quadrille. + +Lily thought it best to misunderstand, and answered, 'Everything has +gone off very well.' + +'Very. Lord Rotherwood will be a popular man; but my congratulations +refer to something nearer home. I think you owe us some thanks for +having brought them into the neighbourhood.' + +'Report is very kind in making arrangements,' said Lily, with +something of Emily's haughty courtesy. + +'I hope this is something more than report,' said her partner. + +'Indeed, I believe not. I think I may safely say that it is at +present quite unfounded,' said Lily, + +Mr. Carrington, much surprised, said no more. + +Lily did not believe the report sufficiently to be annoyed by it +during the excitement and pleasure of the evening, and at present her +principal vexation was caused by the rapid diminution of the company. +She and her brother were the very last to depart, even Florence had +gone to bed, and Lady Rotherwood, looking exceedingly tired, kissed +Lily at the foot of the stairs, pitied her for going home in an open +carriage, and wished her good-night in a very weary tone. + +'I should think you were the fiftieth lady I have handed across the +hall,' said Lord Rotherwood, as he gave Lily his arm. + +'But where were the fireworks, Rotherwood?' + +'Countermanded long ago. We have had enough of them. Well, I am +sorry it is over.' + +'I am very glad it is so well over,' said Claude. + +'Thanks to your exertions, Claude,' said the Marquis. 'You acted +like a hero.' + +'Like a dancing dervish you mean,' said Claude. 'It will suffice for +my whole life.' + +'I hope you are not quite exhausted.' + +'No, thank you. I have turned over a new leaf.' + +'Talking of new leaves,' said the Marquis, 'I always had a +presentiment that Emily's government would come to a crisis to-day.' + +'Do you think it has?' said Claude. + +'Trust my word, you will hear great news to-morrow. And that reminds +me--can you come here to-morrow morning? Travers is going--I drive +him to meet the coach at the town, and you were talking of wanting to +see the new windows in the cathedral: it will be a good opportunity. +And dine here afterwards to talk over the adventures.' + +'Thank you--that last I cannot do. The Baron was saying it would be +the first time of having us all together.' + +'Very well, besides the great news. I wish I was going back with +you; it is a tame conclusion, only to go to bed. If I was but to be +on the scene of action to-morrow. Tell the Baron that--no, use your +influence to get me invited to dinner on Saturday--I really want to +speak to him.' + +'Very well,' said Claude, 'I'll do my best. Good-night.' + +'Good-night,' said the Marquis. 'You have both done wonders. Still, +I wish it was to come over again.' + +'Few people would say so,' said Lily, as they drove off. + +'Few would say so if they thought so,' said Claude. 'I have been +quite admiring the way Rotherwood has gone on--enjoying the fun as if +he was nobody--just as Reginald might, making other people happy, and +making no secret of his satisfaction in it all.' + +'Very free from affectation and nonsense,' said Lily, 'as William +said of him last Christmas. You were in a fine fright about his +speech, Claude.' + +'More than I ought to have been. I should have known that he is too +simple-minded and straightforward to say anything but just what he +ought. What a nice person that Miss Aylmer is.' + +'Is not she, Claude? I was very glad you had her for a neighbour. +Happy the children who have her for a governess. How sensible and +gentle she seems. The Westons--But oh! Claude, tell me one thing, +did you hear--' + +'Well, what?' + +'I am ashamed to say. That preposterous report about papa. Why, +Rotherwood himself seems to believe it, and Mr. Carrington began to +congratulate--' + +'The public has bestowed so many ladies on the Baron, that I wonder +it is not tired,' said Claude. 'It is time it should patronise +William instead.' + +'Rotherwood is not the public,' said Lily, 'and he is the last person +to say anything impertinent of papa. And I myself heard papa call +her Alethea, which he never used to do. Claude, what do you think?' + +After a long pause Claude slowly replied, 'Think? Why, I think Miss +Weston must be a person of great courage. She begins the world as a +grandmother, to say nothing of her eldest daughter and son being +considerably her seniors.' + +'I do not believe it,' said Lily. 'Do you, Claude?' + +'I cannot make up my mind--it is too amazing. My hair is still +standing on end. When it comes down I may be able to tell you +something.' + +Such were the only answers that Lily could extract from him. He did +not sufficiently disbelieve the report to treat it with scorn, yet he +did not sufficiently credit it to resign himself to such a state of +things. + +On coming home Lily found Emily and Jane in her room, eagerly +discussing the circumstances which, to their prejudiced eyes, seemed +strong confirmation. While their tongues were in full career the +door opened and Eleanor appeared. She told them it was twelve +o'clock, turned Jane out of the room, and made Emily and Lily promise +not to utter another syllable that night. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI: THE CRISIS + + + +'"Is this your care of the nest?" cried he, +"It comes of your gadding abroad," said she.' + +To the consternation of the disconsolate damsels, the first news they +heard the next morning was that Mr. Mohun was gone to breakfast at +Broomhill, and the intelligence was received by Frank Hawkesworth +with a smile which they thought perfectly malicious. Frank, William, +and Reginald talked a little at breakfast about the fete, but no one +joined them, and Claude looked so grave that Eleanor was convinced +that he had a headache, and vainly tried to persuade him to stay at +home, instead of setting off to Devereux Castle immediately after +breakfast. + +The past day had not been spent in vain by Ada. Mrs. Weston had led +her by degrees to open her heart to her, had made her perceive the +real cause of her father's displeasure, see her faults, and promise +to confess them, a promise which she performed with many tears, as +soon as she saw Eleanor in the morning. + +On telling this to Emily Eleanor was surprised to find that she was +not listened to with much satisfaction. Emily seemed to think it a +piece of interference on the part of Mrs. Weston, and would not allow +that it was likely to be the beginning of improvement in Ada. + +'The words were put into her mouth,' said she; 'and they were an easy +way of escaping from her present state of disgrace.' + +'On the contrary,' said Eleanor, 'she seemed to think that she justly +deserved to be in disgrace.' + +'Did you think so?' said Emily, in a careless tone. + +'You are in a strange mood to-day, Emily,' said Eleanor. + +'Am I? I did not know it. I wonder where Lily is.' + +Lily was in her own room, teaching Phyllis. Phyllis was rather wild +and flighty that morning, scarcely able to command her attention, and +every now and then bursting into an irrepressible fit of laughter. +Reginald and Phyllis found it most difficult to avoid betraying +Marianne, and as soon as luncheon was over, they agreed to set out on +a long expedition into the woods, where they might enjoy their +wonderful secret together. Just at this time Mr. Mohun returned. He +came into the drawing-room, and Lilias, perceiving that the +threatened conversation with Emily was about to take place, made her +escape to her own room, whither she was presently followed by Jane, +who could not help running after her to report the great news that +Emily was to be deposed. + +'I am sure of it,' said she. 'They sent me out of the room, but not +before I had seen certain symptoms.' + +'It is very hard that poor Emily should bear all the blame,' said +Lily. + +'You have managed to escape it very well,' said Jane, laughing. 'You +have all the thanks and praise. I suppose it is because the intimacy +with Miss Weston was your work.' + +'I will not believe that nonsense,' said Lily. + +'Seeing is believing, they say,' said Jane. 'Remember, it is not +only me. Think of Rotherwood. And Maurice guesses it too, and +Redgie told him great things were going on.' + +While Jane was speaking they heard the drawing-room door open, and in +another moment Emily came in. + +It was true that, as Jane said, she had been deposed. Mr. Mohun had +begun by saying, 'Emily, can you bring me such an account of your +expenditure as I desired?' + +'I scarcely think I can, papa,' said Emily. 'I am sorry to say that +my accounts are rather in confusion.' + +'That is to say, that you have been as irregular in the management of +your own affairs as you have in mine. Well, I have paid your debt to +Lilias, and from this time forward I require of you to reduce your +expenses to the sum which I consider suitable, and which both Eleanor +and Lilias have found perfectly sufficient. And now, Emily, what +have you to say for the management of my affairs? Can you offer any +excuse for your utter failure?' + +'Indeed, papa, I am very sorry I vexed you,' said Emily. 'Our +illness last autumn--different things--I know all has not been quite +as it should be; but I hope that in future I shall profit by past +experience.' + +'I hope so,' said Mr. Mohun, 'but I am afraid to trust the management +of the family to you any longer. Your trial is over, and you have +failed, merely because you would not exert yourself from wilful +indolence and negligence. You have not attended to any one thing +committed to your charge--you have placed temptation in Esther's way- +-and allowed Ada to take up habits which will not be easily +corrected. I should not think myself justified in leaving you in +charge any longer, lest worse mischief should ensue. I wish you to +give up the keys to Eleanor for the present.' + +Mr. Mohun would perhaps have added something if Emily had shown signs +of repentance, or even of sorrow. The moment was at least as painful +to him as to her, and he had prepared himself to expect either +hysterical tears, with vows of amendment, or else an argument on her +side that she was right and everybody else wrong. But there was +nothing of the kind; Emily neither spoke nor looked; she only carried +the tokens of her authority to Eleanor, and left the room. She +thought she knew well enough the cause of her deposition, considered +it quite as a matter of course, and departed on purpose to avoid +hearing the announcement which she expected to follow. + +She was annoyed by finding her sisters in her room, and especially +irritated by Jane's tone, as she eagerly asked, 'Well, what did he +say?' + +'Never mind,' replied Emily, pettishly. + +'Was it about Miss Weston?' persisted Jane. + +'Not actually, but I saw it was coming,' said Emily. + +'Ah!' said Jane, 'I was just telling Lily that she owes all her +present favour to her having been Alethea's bosom friend.' + +'I confess I thought Miss Weston was assuming authority long ago,' +said Emily. + +'Emily, how can you say so?' cried Lily. 'How can you be so unjust +and ungrateful? I do not believe this report; but if it should be +true, are not these foolish expressions of dislike so many attempts +to make yourself undutiful?' + +'I have rather more sincerity, more dignity, more attachment to my +own mother, than to try to gain favour by affecting what I do not +feel,' said Emily. + +'Rather cutting, Emily,' said Jane. + +'Do not give that speech an application which Emily did not intend,' +said Lily, sadly. + +'What makes you think I did not intend it?' said Emily, coldly. + +'Emily!' exclaimed Lily, starting up, and colouring violently, 'are +you thinking what you are saying?' + +'I do not know what you mean,' replied Emily quietly, in her soft, +unchanging voice; 'I only mean that if you can feel satisfied with +the new arrangement you are more easily pleased than I am.' + +'Only tell me, Emily, do you accuse me of attempting to gain favour +in an unworthy manner?' + +'I only congratulate you on standing so well with every one.' + +Lily hid her face in her hands. At this moment Eleanor opened the +door, saying, 'Can you come down? Mrs. Burnet is here.' Eleanor +went without observing Lily, and Emily was obliged to follow. Jane +lingered in order to comfort Lily. + +'You know she did not quite mean it,' said she; 'she is only very +much provoked.' + +'I know, I know,' said Lily; 'she is very sorry herself by this time. +Of course she did not mean it, but it is the first unkind thing she +ever said to me. It is very silly, and very unjust to take it +seriously, but I cannot help it.' + +'It is a very abominable shame,' said Jane, 'and so I shall tell +Emily.' + +'No, do not, Jenny, I beg. I know she thinks so herself, and grieves +too much over it. No wonder she is vexed. All my faults have come +upon her. You had better go down, Jane; Mrs. Burnet is always vexed +if she does not see a good many of us, and I am sure I cannot go. +Besides, Emily dislikes having that girl to entertain.' + +'Lily, you are so very gentle and forgiving, that I wonder how any +one can say what grieves you,' said Jane, for once struck with +admiration. + +She went, and Lily remained, weeping over the injustice which she had +forgiven, and feeling as if, all the time, it was fair that the rule +of 'love' should, as it were, recoil upon her. Her tears flowed +fast, as she went over the long line of faults and follies which lay +heavy on her conscience. And Emily against her! That sister who, +from her infancy, had soothed her in every trouble, of whose sympathy +she had always felt sure, whose gentleness had been her admiration in +her days of sharp answers and violent temper, who had seemed her own +beyond all the others; this wound from her gave Lily a bitter feeling +of desertion and loneliness. It was like a completion of her +punishment--the broken reed on which she leant had pierced her +deeply. + +She was still sitting on the side of her bed, weeping, when a slight +tap at the door made her start--a gentle tap, the sound of which she +had learned to love in her illness. The next moment Alethea stood +before her, with outstretched arms. This was a time to feel the +value of such a friend, and every suspicion passing from her mind, +she flew to Alethea, kissed her again and again, and laid her head on +her shoulder. Her caress was returned with equal warmth. + +'But how is this?' said Alethea, now perceiving that her face was +pale, and marked by tears. 'How is this, my dear Lily?' + +'Oh, Alethea! I cannot tell you, but it is all misery. The full +effect of my baneful principle has appeared!' + +'Has anything happened?' exclaimed Alethea. + +'No,' said Lily. 'There is nothing new, except the--Oh! I cannot +tell you.' + +'I wish I could do anything for you, my poor Lily,' said Alethea. + +'You can look kind,' said Lily, 'and that is a great comfort. Oh! +Alethea, it was very kind of you to come and speak to me. I shall do +now--I can bear it all better. You have a comforting face and voice +like nobody else. When did you come? Have you been in the drawing- +room?' + +'No,' said Alethea. 'I walked here with Marianne, and finding there +were visitors in the drawing-room we went to Ada, and she told me +where to find you. I had something to tell you--but perhaps you know +already.' + +The colour on her cheek recalled all Lily's fears, and to hear the +news from herself was an unexpected trial. She felt as if what she +had said justified Emily's reproach, and turning away her head, +replied, 'Yes, I know.' + +Alethea was a little hurt by her coldness, but she ascribed it to +dejection and embarrassment, and blamed herself for hurrying on what +she had to tell without sufficient regard for Lily's distress. There +was an awkward pause, which Alethea broke, by saying, 'Your brother +thought you would like to hear it from me.' + +'My brother!' cried Lily, with a most sudden change of tone. +'William? Oh, Alethea! dearest Alethea; I beg your pardon. They +almost made me believe it was papa. Oh! I am so very glad!' + +Alethea could not help laughing, and Lily joined her heartily. It +was one of the brightest hours of her life, as she sat with her hand +in her friend's, pouring out her eager expressions of delight and +affection. All her troubles were forgotten--how should they not, +when Alethea was to be her sister! It seemed as if but a few minutes +had passed, when the sound of the great clock warned Alethea that it +was time to return to Broomhill, and she asked Lilias to walk back +with her. After summoning Marianne, they set out through the garden, +where, on being joined by William, Lily thought it expedient to +betake herself to Marianne, who was but too glad to be able freely to +communicate many interesting particulars. At Broomhill she had a +very enjoyable talk with Mrs. Weston, but her chief delight was in +her walk home with her brother. She was high in his favour, as +Alethea's chief friend. Though usually reserved, he was now open, +and Lily wondered to find herself honoured with confidence. His +attachment had begun in very early days, when first he knew the +Westons in Brighton. Harry's death had suddenly called him away, and +a few guarded expressions of his wishes in the course of the next +winter had been cut short by his father. He then went to Canada, and +had had no opportunity of renewing his acquaintance till the last +winter, when, on coming home, to his great joy and surprise he found +the Westons on the most intimate terms with his family. + +He then spoke to his father, who wished him to take a little more +time for consideration, and he had accordingly waited till the +summer. Lily longed to know his plans for the future, and presently +he went on to say that his father wished him to leave the army, live +at home, and let Alethea be the head of the household. + +'Oh, William! it is perfect. There is an end of all our troubles. +It is as if a great black curtain was drawn up.' + +'They say such plans never succeed,' said William; 'but we mean to +prove the contrary.' + +'How good it will be for the children!' said Lily. + +'Oh! why had we not such a guide at first?' + +'She has all that Eleanor wants,' said William. + +'My follies were not Eleanor's fault,' said Lily; 'but I do think I +should not have been quite so silly if I had known Alethea from the +first.' + +It was not in the power of William himself to say more in her praise +than Lily. In the eagerness of their conversation they walked +slowly, and as they were crossing the last field the dinner-bell +rang. As they quickened their steps they saw Mr. Mohun looking at +his wheat. Lily told him how late it was. + +'There,' said he, 'I am always looking after other people's affairs. +Between Rotherwood and William I have not a moment for my own crops. +However, my turn is coming. William will have it all on his hands, +and the old deaf useless Baron will sit in his great chair and take +his ease.' + +'Not a bit, papa,' said Lily, 'the Baron will grow young, and take to +dancing. He is talking nonsense already.' + +'Eh! Miss Lily turned saucy? Mrs. William Mohun must take her in +hand. Well, Lily, has he your consent and approbation?' + +'I only wish this was eighteen months ago, papa.' + +'We shall soon come into order, Lily. With Miss Aylmer for the +little ones, and Mrs. Mohun for the great ones, I have little fear.' + +'Miss Aylmer, papa!' + +'Yes, if all turns out well. We propose to find a house for her +mother in the village, and let her come every day to teach the little +ones.' + +'Oh! I am very glad. We liked her so much.' + +'I hope,' said Mr. Mohun, 'that this plan will please Claude better +than my proposal of a governess last month. He looked as if he +expected Minerva with helmet, and AEgis and all. Now make haste and +dress. Do not let us shock Eleanor by keeping dinner waiting longer +than we can help.' + +Lilias found that her sisters had long been dressed and gone down. +She dressed alone, every now and then smiling at her own happy looks +reflected in the glass. Just as she had finished, Claude knocked at +the door, and putting in his head, said, 'Well, Lily, has the +wonderful news come forth? I see it has, by your face.' + +'And do you know what it is, Claude?' said Lily. + +'I know what Rotherwood meant, and I cannot think where all our +senses were.' + +'And, Claude, only say that you like her.' + +'I think it is a very good thing indeed.' + +'Only say that you cordially like her.' + +'I do. I admire her sense and her gentleness very much, and I think +you owe a great deal to her.' + +'Then you allow that you were unjust last summer?' + +'I do; but it was owing to you. You were somewhat foolish, and I +thought it was her fault. Besides, I was quite tired of hearing that +extraordinary name of hers for ever repeated.' + +Here they were summoned to dinner, and hurried down. The dinner +passed very strangely; some were in very high spirits, others in a +very melancholy mood; Eleanor and Maurice alone preserved the golden +mean; and the behaviour of the merry ones was perfectly +unintelligible to the rest. Reginald, still bound by his promise to +Marianne, was wild to make his discovery known, and behaved in such a +strange and comical manner as to call forth various reproofs from +Eleanor, which provoked double mirth from the others. The cause of +their amusement was ostensibly the talking over of yesterday's fete, +but the laughing was more than adequate, even to the wonderful +collection of odd speeches and adventures which were detailed. Emily +and Jane could not guess what had come to Lily, and thought her +merriment very ill-placed. Yet, in justice to Lily, it must be said +that her joy no longer made her wild and thoughtless. There was +something guarded and subdued about her, which made Claude reflect +how different she was from the untamed girl of last summer, who could +not be happy without a sort of intoxication. + +The ladies returned to the drawing-room, where Ada now appeared for +the first time, and while they were congratulating her Mr. Mohun +summoned Eleanor away. Jane followed at a safe distance to see where +they went. They shut themselves into the study, and Jane, now +meeting Maurice, went into the garden with him. 'It must be coming +now,' said she; 'oh! there are William and Claude talking under the +plane-tree.' + +'Claude has his cunning smile on,' said Maurice. + +'No wonder,' said Jane, 'it is very absurd. I daresay William will +hardly ever come home now. One comfort is, they will see I was right +from the first.' + +Jane and Maurice remained in the garden till teatime, and thus missed +hearing the whole affair discussed in the drawing-room between Emily, +Lilias, and Frank. This was the first news that Emily heard of it, +and a very great relief it was, for she could imagine liking, and +even loving, Alethea as a sister-in-law. Her chief annoyance was at +present from the perception of the difference between her own +position and that of Lilias. Last year how was Lily regarded in the +family, and what was her opinion worth? Almost nothing; she was only +a clever, romantic, silly girl, while Emily had credit at least for +discretion. Now Lily was consulted and sought out by father, +brothers, Eleanor--no longer treated as a child. And what was Emily? +Blamed or pitied on every side, and left to hear this important news +from the chance mention of her brother-in-law, himself not fully +informed. She had become nobody, and had even lost the satisfaction, +such as it was, of fancying that her father only made her bad +management an excuse for his marriage. She heard many particulars +from Lily in the course of the evening, as they were going to bed; +and the sisters talked with all their wonted affection, although +Emily had not thought it worth while to revive an old grievance, by +asking Lily's pardon for her unkind speech, and rested satisfied with +the knowledge that her sister knew her heart too well to care for +what she said in a moment of irritation. On the other hand, Lily did +not think that she had a right to mention the plan of Alethea's +government, and the next day she was glad of her reserve, for her +father called her to share his early walk for the purpose of talking +over the scheme, telling her that he thought she understood the state +of things better than Eleanor could, and that he considered that she +had sufficient influence with Emily to prevent her from making +Alethea uncomfortable. The conclusion of the conversation was, that +they thought they might depend upon Emily's amiability, her courtesy, +and her dislike of trouble, to balance her love of importance and +dignity. And that Alethea would do nothing to hurt her feelings, and +would assume no authority that she could help, they felt convinced. + +After breakfast Mr. Mohun called Emily into his study, informed her +of his resolution, to which she listened with her usual submissive +manner, and told her that he trusted to her good sense and right +feeling to obviate any collisions of authority which might be +unpleasant to Alethea and hurtful to the younger ones. She promised +all that was desired, and though at the moment she felt hurt and +grieved, she almost immediately recovered her usual spirits, never +high, but always serene, and only seeking for easy amusement and +comfort in whatever happened. There was no public disgrace in her +deposition; it would not seem unnatural to the neighbours that her +brother's wife should be at the head of the house. She would gain +credit for her amiability, and she would no longer be responsible or +obliged to exert herself; and as to Alethea herself, she could not +help respecting and almost loving her. It was very well it was no +worse. + +In the meantime Lily, struck by a sudden thought, had hastened to her +mother's little deserted morning-room, to see if it could not be made +a delightful abode for Alethea; and she was considering of its +capabilities when she started at the sound of an approaching step. +It was the rapid and measured tread of the Captain, and in a few +moments he entered. 'Thank you,' said he, smiling, 'you are on the +same errand as myself.' + +'Exactly so,' said Lily; 'it will do capitally; how pretty Long Acre +looks, and what a beautiful view of the church!' + +'This room used once to be pretty,' said William, looking round, +disappointed; 'it is very forlorn.' + +'Ah! but it will look very different when the chairs do not stand +with their backs to the wall. I do not think Alethea knows of this +room, for nobody has sat in it for years, and we will make it a +surprise. And here is your own picture, at ten years old, over the +fireplace! I have such a vision, you will not know the room when I +have set it to rights.' + +They went on talking eagerly of the improvements that might be made, +and from thence came to other subjects--Alethea herself, and the +future plans. At last William asked if Lily knew what made Jane look +as deplorable as she had done for the last two days, and Lily was +obliged to tell him, with the addition that Eleanor had begun to +inform her of the real fact, but that she had stopped her by +declaring that she had known it all from the first. Just as they had +mentioned her, Jane, attracted by the unusual sound of voices in Lady +Emily's room, came in, asking what they could be doing there. Lily +would scarcely have dared to reply, but William said in a grave, +matter-of-fact way, 'We are thinking of having this room newly fitted +up.' + +'For Alethea Weston?' said Jane; 'how can you, Lily? I should have +thought, at least, it was no laughing matter.' + +'I advise you to follow Lily's example and make the best of it,' said +William. + +'I do, but it is another thing to stand laughing here. I see one +thing that I shall do--I shall take away your picture and hang it in +my room.' + +'We shall see,' said William, following Lilias, who had left the room +to hide her laughter. + +To mystify Jane was the great amusement of the day; Reginald, finding +Maurice possessed with the same notion, did more to maintain it than +the others would have thought right, and Maurice reporting his +speeches to Jane, she had not the least doubt that her idea was +correct. Lord Rotherwood came to dinner, and no sooner had he +entered the drawing-room than Reginald, rejoicing in the absence of +the parties concerned, informed him of the joke, much to his +diversion, though rather to the discomfiture of the more prudent +spectators, who might have wished it confined to themselves. + +'It has gone far enough,' said Claude; 'she will say something she +will repent if we do not take care.' + +'I should like to reduce her to humble herself to ask an explanation +from Marianne,' said Lily. + +'And pray don't spoil the joke before I have enjoyed it,' said Lord +Rotherwood. 'My years of discretion are not such centuries of wisdom +as those of that gentleman who looks as grim as his namesake the +Emperor on a coin.' + +The entrance of Eleanor and Jane here put an end to the conversation, +which was not renewed till the evening, when the younger, or as +Claude called it, the middle-aged part of the company were sitting on +the lawn, leaving the drawing-room to the elder and more prudent, and +the terrace to the wilder and more active. Emily was talking of Mrs. +Burnet's visit of the day before, and her opinion of the Hetherington +festivities. 'And what an interminable visit it was,' said Jane; 'I +thought they would never go!' + +'People always inflict themselves in a most merciless manner when +there is anything going on,' said Emily. + +'I wonder if they guessed anything,' said Lily. + +'To be sure they did, and stayed out of curiosity,' said Lord +Rotherwood. 'In spite of Emily's dignified contradictions of the +report, every one knew it the other evening. It was all in vain that +she behaved as if I was speaking treason--people have eyes.' + +'Ah! I am very sorry for that contradiction,' said Lily; 'I hope +people will not fancy we do not like it.' + +'No, it will only prove my greatness,' said Lord Rotherwood. 'Your +Marques, was China in the map, so absorbing all beholders that the +magnanimous Mohuns themselves--' + +'What nonsense, Rotherwood,' said Jane, sharply; 'can't you suppose +that one may shut one's eyes to what one does not wish to see.' + +The singular inappropriateness of this answer occasioned a general +roar of laughter, and she looked in perplexity. Every one whom she +asked why they laughed replied by saying, 'Ask Marianne Weston;' and +at length, after much puzzling and guessing, and being more laughed +at than had ever before happened to her in her life, she was obliged +to seek an explanation from Marianne, who might well have triumphed +had she been so disposed. Jane's character for penetration was +entirely destroyed, and the next morning she received, as a present +from Claude, an old book, which had long belonged to the nursery, +entitled, A Puzzle for a Curious Girl. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII: CONCLUSION + + + +'There let Hymen oft appear +In saffron robe, with taper clear, +And pomp, and feast, and revelry, +And mask, and antique pageantry; +Such sights as useful poets dream +On summer eves, by haunted stream.' + +On the morning of a fine day, late in September, the Beechcroft bells +were ringing merrily, and a wedding procession was entering the gate +of the churchyard. + +In the afternoon there was a great feast on the top of the hill, +attended by all the Mohuns, who were forced, to Lily's great +satisfaction, to give it there, as there was no space in the grounds +at the New Court. All was wonderfully suitable to old times, +inasmuch as the Baron was actually persuaded to sit for five minutes +under the yew-tree where 'Mohun's chair' ought to have been, and the +cricketers were of all ranks, from the Marquis of Rotherwood to +little Dick Grey. + +The wedding had been hurried on, and the wedding tour was shortened, +in order that Mrs. William Mohun might be installed as mistress of +the New Court before Eleanor's departure, which took place early in +October; and shortly after Mrs. Ridley, who had come on a visit to +Beechcroft, to take leave of her brother, returned to the north, +taking with her the little Harry. He was nearly a year old, and it +gave great pain to his young aunts to part with him, now that he had +endeared himself to them by many engaging ways, but Lily felt herself +too unequal to the task of training him up to make any objection, and +there were many promises that he should not be a stranger to his +grandfather's home. + +Mrs. and Miss Aylmer had been about a month settled at a superior +sort of cottage, near the New Court, with Mrs. Eden for their +servant. Lord Rotherwood had fitted out the second son, who sailed +for India with Mr. and Mrs. Hawkesworth, had sent Devereux to school, +and was lying in wait to see what could be done for the two others, +and Jane was congratulated far more than she wished, on having been +the means of discovering such an excellent governess. Jane was now a +regular inhabitant of the schoolroom, as much tied down to lessons +and schoolroom hours as her two little sisters, with the prospect of +so continuing for two years, if not for three. She made one attempt +to be pert to Miss Aylmer; but something in the manner of her +governess quite baffled her, and she was obliged to be more obedient +than she had ever been. The mischief which Emily and Lilias had done +to her, by throwing off their allegiance to Eleanor, and thus +unconsciously leading her to set her at nought, was, at her age, not +to be so easily repaired; yet with no opportunity for gossiping, and +with involuntary respect for her governess, there were hopes that she +would lose the habit of her two great faults. There certainly was an +improvement in her general tone and manner, which made Mr. Devereux +hope that he might soon resume with her the preparation for +confirmation which had been cut short the year before. + +Phyllis and Adeline had been possessed by Reginald with a great dread +of governesses; and they were agreeably surprised in Miss Aylmer, +whom they found neither cross nor strict, and always willing to +forward their amusements, and let them go out with their papa and +sisters whenever they were asked. Phyllis, without much annoyance to +one so obedient, was trained into more civilisation, and Ada's more +serious faults were duly watched and guarded against. The removal of +Esther was a great advantage to Ada; an older and more steady person +was taken in her place; while to the great relief of Mr. Mohun and +Lilias, Rachel Harvey took Esther to her brother's farmhouse, where +she promised to watch and teach her, and hoped in time to make her a +good servant. + +Of Emily there is little to say. She ate, drank, and slept, talked +agreeably, read idle books, and looked nice in the drawing-room, +wasting time, throwing away talents, weakening the powers of her +mind, and laying up a store of sad reflections for herself against +the time when she must awake from her selfish apathy. + +As to Lilias Mohun, the heroine of this tale, the history of the +formation of her character has been told, and all that remains to be +said of her is, that the memory of her faults and her sorrows did not +fleet away like a morning cloud, though followed by many happy and +prosperous days, and though the effects of many were repaired. +Agnes's death, Esther's theft, Ada's accident, the schism in the +parish, and her own numerous mistakes, were constantly recalled, and +never without a thought of the danger of being wise above her elders, +and taking mere feeling for Christian charity. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, SCENES AND CHARACTERS *** + +This file should be named scch10.txt or scch10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, scch11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, scch10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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Yonge) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Scenes and Characters + +Author: Charlotte M. Yonge + +Release Date: January, 2004 [EBook #4944] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on April 2, 2002] +[Most recently updated: April 2, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII +</pre> +<p> +<a name="startoftext"></a> +Transcribed from the 1889 Macmillan and Co. edition by David Price, +email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk<br> +<br> +SCENES AND CHARACTERS, OR, EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +PREFACE<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Of those who are invited to pay a visit to Beechcroft, there are some +who, honestly acknowledging that amusement is their object, will be +content to feel with Lilias, conjecture with Jane, and get into scrapes +with Phyllis, without troubling themselves to extract any moral from +their proceedings; and to these the Mohun family would only apologise +for having led a very humdrum life during the eighteen months spent +in their company.<br> +<br> +There may, however, be more unreasonable visitors, who, professing only +to come as parents and guardians, expect entertainment for themselves, +as well as instruction for those who had rather it was out of sight, +- look for antiques in carved cherry-stones, - and require plot, incident, +and catastrophe in a chronicle of small beer.<br> +<br> +To these the Mohuns beg respectfully to observe, that they hope their +examples may not be altogether devoid of indirect instruction; and lest +it should be supposed that they lived without object, aim, or principle, +they would observe that the maxim which has influenced the delineation +of the different <i>Scenes and Characters </i>is, that feeling, unguided +and unrestrained, soon becomes mere selfishness; while the simple endeavour +to fulfil each immediate claim of duty may lead to the highest acts +of self-devotion.<br> +<br> +NEW COURT, BEECHCROFT,<br> +18th <i>January.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</i>PREFACE (1886)<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Perhaps this book is an instance to be adduced in support of the advice +I have often given to young authors - not to print before they themselves +are old enough to do justice to their freshest ideas.<br> +<br> +Not that I can lay claim to its being a production of tender and interesting +youth. It was my second actual publication, and I believe I was +of age before it appeared - but I see now the failures that more experience +might have enabled me to avoid; and I would not again have given it +to the world if the same characters recurring in another story had not +excited a certain desire to see their first start.<br> +<br> +In fact they have been more or less my life-long companions. An +almost solitary child, with periodical visits to the Elysium of a large +family, it was natural to dream of other children and their ways and +sports till they became almost realities. They took shape when +my French master set me to write letters for him. The letters +gradually became conversation and narrative, and the adventures of the +family sweetened the toils of French composition. In the exigencies +of village school building in those days gone by, before in every place<br> +<br> +<br> +“It there behoved him to set up the standard of her Grace,”<br> +<br> +<br> +the tale was actually printed for private sale, as a link between translations +of short stories.<br> +<br> +This process only stifled the family in my imagination for a time. +They awoke once more with new names, but substantially the same, and +were my companions in many a solitary walk, the results of which were +scribbled down in leisure moments to be poured into my mother’s +ever patient and sympathetic ears.<br> +<br> +And then came the impulse to literature for young people given by the +example of that memorable book the <i>Fairy Bower, </i>and followed +up by <i>Amy Herbert</i>. It was felt that elder children needed +something of a deeper tone than the Edgeworthian style, yet less directly +religious than the Sherwood class of books; and on that wave of opinion, +my little craft floated out into the great sea of the public.<br> +<br> +Friends, whose kindness astonished me, and fills me with gratitude when +I look back on it, gave me seasonable criticism and pruning, and finally +launched me. My heroes and heroines had arranged themselves so +as to work out a definite principle, and this was enough for us all.<br> +<br> +Children’s books had not been supposed to require a plot. +Miss Edgeworth’s, which I still continue to think gems in their +own line, are made chronicles, or, more truly, illustrations of various +truths worked out upon the same personages. Moreover, the skill +of a Jane Austen or a Mrs. Gaskell is required to produce a perfect +plot without doing violence to the ordinary events of an every-day life. +It is all a matter of arrangement. Mrs. Gaskell can make a perfect +little plot out of a sick lad and a canary bird; and another can do +nothing with half a dozen murders and an explosion; and of arranging +my materials so as to build up a story, I was quite incapable. +It is still my great deficiency; but in those days I did not even understand +that the attempt was desirable. Criticism was a more thorough +thing in those times than it has since become through the multiplicity +of books to be hurried over, and it was often very useful, as when it +taught that such arrangement of incident was the means of developing +the leading idea.<br> +<br> +Yet, with all its faults, the children, who had been real to me, caught, +chiefly by the youthful sense of fun and enjoyment, the attention of +other children; and the curious semi-belief one has in the phantoms +of one’s brain made me dwell on their after life and share my +discoveries with my friends, not, however, writing them down till after +the lapse of all these years the tenderness inspired by associations +of early days led to taking up once more the old characters in <i>The +Two Sides of the Shield; </i>and the kind welcome this has met with +has led to the resuscitation of the crude and inexperienced tale which +never pretended to be more than a mere family chronicle.<br> +<br> +C. M. YONGE.<br> +<i>6th October </i>1886.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER I - THE ELDER SISTER<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Return, and in the daily round<br> + Of duty and of love,<br> +Thou best wilt find that patient faith<br> + That lifts the soul above.’<br> +<br> +Eleanor Mohun was the eldest child of a gentleman of old family, and +good property, who had married the sister of his friend and neighbour, +the Marquis of Rotherwood. The first years of her life were marked +by few events. She was a quiet, steady, useful girl, finding her +chief pleasure in nursing and teaching her brothers and sisters, and +her chief annoyance in her mamma’s attempts to make her a fine +lady; but before she had reached her nineteenth year she had learnt +to know real anxiety and sorrow. Her mother, after suffering much +from grief at the loss of her two brothers, fell into so alarming a +state of health, that her husband was obliged immediately to hurry her +away to Italy, leaving the younger children under the care of a governess, +and the elder boys at school, while Eleanor alone accompanied them.<br> +<br> +Their absence lasted nearly three years, and during the last winter, +an engagement commenced between Eleanor and Mr. Francis Hawkesworth, +rather to the surprise of Lady Emily, who wondered that he had been +able to discover the real worth veiled beneath a formal and retiring +manner, and to admire features which, though regular, had a want of +light and animation, which diminished their beauty even more than the +thinness and compression of the lips, and the very pale gray of the +eyes.<br> +<br> +The family were about to return to England, where the marriage was to +take place, when Lady Emily was attacked with a sudden illness, which +her weakened frame was unable to resist, and in a very few days she +died, leaving the little Adeline, about eight months old, to accompany +her father and sister on their melancholy journey homewards. This +loss made a great change in the views of Eleanor, who, as she considered +the cares and annoyances which would fall on her father, when left to +bear the whole burthen of the management of the children and household, +felt it was her duty to give up her own prospects of happiness, and +to remain at home. How could she leave the tender little ones +to the care of servants - trust her sisters to a governess, and make +her brothers’ home yet more dreary? She knew her father +to be strong in sense and firm in judgment, but indolent, indulgent, +and inattentive to details, and she could not bear to leave him to be +harassed by the petty cares of a numerous family, especially when broken +in spirits and weighed down with sorrow. She thought her duty +was plain, and, accordingly, she wrote to Mr. Hawkesworth, to beg him +to allow her to withdraw her promise.<br> +<br> +Her brother Henry was the only person who knew what she had done, and +he alone perceived something of tremulousness about her in the midst +of the even cheerfulness with which she had from the first supported +her father’s spirits. Mr. Mohun, however, did not long remain +in ignorance, for Frank Hawkesworth himself arrived at Beechcroft to +plead his cause with Eleanor. He knew her value too well to give +her up, and Mr. Mohun would not hear of her making such a sacrifice +for his sake. But Eleanor was also firm, and after weeks of unhappiness +and uncertainty, it was at length arranged that she should remain at +home till Emily was old enough to take her place, and that Frank should +then return from India and claim his bride.<br> +<br> +Well did she discharge the duties which she had undertaken; she kept +her father’s mind at ease, followed out his views, managed the +boys with discretion and gentleness, and made her sisters well-informed +and accomplished girls; but, for want of fully understanding the characters +of her two next sisters, Emily and Lilias, she made some mistakes with +regard to them. The clouds of sorrow, to her so dark and heavy, +had been to them but morning mists, and the four years which had changed +her from a happy girl into a thoughtful, anxious woman, had brought +them to an age which, if it is full of the follies of childhood, also +partakes of the earnestness of youth; an age when deep foundations of +enduring confidence may be laid by one who can enter into and direct +the deeper flow of mind and feeling which lurks hid beneath the freaks +and fancies of the early years of girlhood. But Eleanor had little +sympathy for freaks and fancies. She knew the realities of life +too well to build airy castles with younger and gayer spirits; her sisters’ +romance seemed to her dangerous folly, and their lively nonsense levity +and frivolity. They were too childish to share in her confidence, +and she was too busy and too much preoccupied to have ear or mind for +visionary trifles, though to trifles of real life she paid no small +degree of attention.<br> +<br> +It might have been otherwise had Henry Mohun lived; but in the midst +of the affection of all who knew him, honour from those who could appreciate +his noble character, and triumphs gained by his uncommon talents, he +was cut off by a short illness, when not quite nineteen, a most grievous +loss to his family, and above all, to Eleanor. Unlike her, as +he was joyous, high-spirited, full of fun, and overflowing with imagination +and poetry, there was a very close bond of union between them, in the +strong sense of duty, the firmness of purpose, and energy of mind which +both possessed, and which made Eleanor feel perfect reliance on him, +and look up to him with earnest admiration. With him alone she +was unreserved; he was the only person who could ever make her show +a spark of liveliness, and on his death, it was only with the most painful +efforts that she could maintain her composed demeanour and fulfil her +daily duties. Years passed on, and still she felt the blank which +Harry had left, almost as much as the first day that she heard of his +death, but she never spoke of him, and to her sisters it seemed as if +he was forgotten. The reserve which had begun to thaw under his +influence, again returning, placed her a still greater distance from +the younger girls, and unconsciously she became still more of a governess +and less of a sister. Little did she know of the ‘blissful +dreams in secret shared’ between Emily, Lilias, and their brother +Claude, and little did she perceive the danger that Lilias would be +run away with by a lively imagination, repressed and starved, but entirely +untrained.<br> +<br> +Whatever influenced Lilias, had, through her, nearly the same effect +upon Emily, a gentle girl, easily led, especially by Lilias, whom she +regarded with the fondest affection and admiration. The perils +of fancy and romance were not, however, to be dreaded for Jane, the +fourth sister, a strong resemblance of Eleanor in her clear common sense, +love of neatness, and active usefulness; but there were other dangers +for her, in her tendency to faults, which, under wise training, had +not yet developed themselves.<br> +<br> +Such were the three girls who were now left to assist each other in +the management of the household, and who looked forward to their new +offices with the various sensations of pleasure, anxiety, self-importance, +and self-mistrust, suited to their differing characters, and to the +ages of eighteen, sixteen, and fourteen.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER II - THE NEW COURT<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Just at the age ’twixt boy and youth,<br> +When thought is speech, and speech is truth.’<br> +<br> +The long-delayed wedding took place on the 13th of January, 1845, and +the bride and bridegroom immediately departed for a year’s visit +among Mr. Hawkesworth’s relations in Northumberland, whence they +were to return to Beechcroft, merely for a farewell, before sailing +for India.<br> +<br> +It was half-past nine in the evening, and the wedding over - Mr. and +Mrs. Hawkesworth gone, and the guests departed, the drawing-room had +returned to its usual state. It was a very large room, so spacious +that it would have been waste and desolate, had it not been well filled +with handsome, but heavy old-fashioned furniture, covered with crimson +damask, and one side of the room fitted up with a bookcase, so high +that there was a spiral flight of library steps to give access to the +upper shelves. Opposite were four large windows, now hidden by +their ample curtains; and near them was at one end of the room a piano, +at the other a drawing-desk. The walls were wainscoted with polished +black oak, the panels reflecting the red fire-light like mirrors. +Over the chimney-piece hung a portrait, by Vandyke, of a pale, dark +cavalier, of noble mien, and with arched eyebrows, called by Lilias, +in defiance of dates, by the name of Sir Maurice de Mohun, the hero +of the family, and allowed by every one to be a striking likeness of +Claude, the youth who at that moment lay, extending a somewhat superfluous +length of limb upon the sofa, which was placed commodiously at right +angles to the fire.<br> +<br> +The other side of the fire was Mr. Mohun’s special domain, and +there he sat at his writing-table, abstracted by deafness and letter +writing, from the various sounds of mirth and nonsense, which proceeded +from the party round the long narrow sofa table, which they had drawn +across the front of the fire, leaving the large round centre table in +darkness and oblivion.<br> +<br> +This party had within the last half hour been somewhat thinned; the +three younger girls had gone to bed, the Rector of Beechcroft, Mr. Robert +Devereux, had been called home to attend some parish business, and there +remained Emily and Lilias - tall graceful girls, with soft hazel eyes, +clear dark complexions, and a quantity of long brown curls. The +latter was busily completing a guard for the watch, which Mr. Hawkesworth +had presented to Reginald, a fine handsome boy of eleven, who, with +his elbows on the table, sat contemplating her progress, and sometimes +teasing his brother Maurice, who was earnestly engaged in constructing +a model with some cards, which he had pilfered from the heap before +Emily. She was putting her sister’s wedding cards into their +shining envelopes, and directing them in readiness for the post the +next morning, while they were sealed by a youth of the same age as Claude, +a small slim figure, with light complexion and hair, and dark gray eyes +full of brightness and vivacity.<br> +<br> +He was standing, so as to be more on a level with the high candle, and +as Emily’s writing was not quite so rapid as his sealing, he amused +himself in the intervals with burning his own fingers, by twisting the +wax into odd shapes.<br> +<br> +‘Why do you not seal up his eyes?’ inquired Reginald, with +an arch glance towards his brother on the sofa.<br> +<br> +‘Do it yourself, you rogue,’ was the answer, at the same +time approaching with the hot sealing-wax in his hand - a demonstration +which occasioned Claude to open his eyes very wide, without giving himself +any further trouble about the matter.<br> +<br> +‘Eh?’ said he, ‘now they try to look innocent, as +if no one could hear them plotting mischief.’<br> +<br> +‘Them! it was not! - Redgie there - young ladies - I appeal - +was not I as innocent?’ - was the very rapid, incoherent, and +indistinct answer.<br> +<br> +‘After so lucid and connected a justification, no more can be +said,’ replied Claude, in a kind of ‘leave me, leave me +to repose’ tone, which occasioned Lilias to say, ‘I am afraid +you are very tired.’<br> +<br> +‘Tired! what has he done to tire him?’<br> +<br> +‘I am sure a wedding is a terrible wear of spirits!’ said +Emily - ‘such excitement.’<br> +<br> +‘Well - when I give a spectacle to the family next year, I mean +to tire you to some purpose.’<br> +<br> +‘Eh?’ said Mr. Mohun, looking up, ‘is Rotherwood’s +wedding to be the next?’<br> +<br> +‘You ought to understand, uncle,’ said Lord Rotherwood, +making two stops towards him, and speaking a little more clearly, ‘I +thought you longed to get rid of your nephew and his concerns.’<br> +<br> +‘You idle boy!’ returned Mr. Mohun, ‘you do not mean +to have the impertinence to come of age next year.’<br> +<br> +‘As much as having been born on the 30th of July, 1825, can make +me.’<br> +<br> +‘But what good will your coming of age do us?’ said Lilias, +‘you will be in London or Brighton, or some such stupid place.’<br> +<br> +‘Do not be senseless, Lily,’ returned her cousin. +‘Devereux Castle is to be in splendour - Hetherington in amazement +- the county’s hair shall stand on end - illuminations, bonfires, +feasts, balls, colours flying, bands playing, tenants dining, fireworks +- ’<br> +<br> +‘Hurrah! jolly! jolly!’ shouted Reginald, dancing on the +ottoman, ‘and mind there are lots of squibs.’<br> +<br> +‘And that Master Reginald Mohun has a new cap and bells for the +occasion,’ said Lord Rotherwood.<br> +<br> +‘Let me make some fireworks,’ said Maurice.<br> +<br> +‘You will begin like a noble baron of the hospitable olden time,’ +said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘It will be like the old days, when every birthday of yours was +a happy day for the people at Hetherington,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Ah! those were happy old days,’ said Lord Rotherwood, in +a graver tone.<br> +<br> +‘These are happy days, are not they?’ said Lily, smiling.<br> +<br> +Her cousin answered with a sigh, ‘Yes, but you do not remember +the old ones, Lily;’ then, after a pause, he added, ‘It +was a grievous mistake to shut up the castle all these years. +We have lost sight of everybody. I do not even know what has become +of the Aylmers.’<br> +<br> +‘They went to live in London,’ said Emily, ‘Aunt Robert +used to write to them there.’<br> +<br> +‘I know, I know, but where are they now?’<br> +<br> +‘In London, I should think,’ said Emily. ‘Some +one said Miss Aylmer was gone out as a governess.’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed! I wish I could hear more! Poor Mr. Aylmer! +He was the first man who tried to teach me Latin. I wonder what +has become of that mad fellow Edward, and Devereux, my father’s +godson! Was not Mrs. Aylmer badly off? I cannot bear that +people should be forgotten!’<br> +<br> +‘It is not so very long that we have lost sight of them,’ +said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Eight years,’ said Lord Rotherwood. ‘He died +six weeks after my father. Well! I have made my mother promise +to come home.’<br> +<br> +‘Really?’ said Lilias, ‘she has been coming so often.’<br> +<br> +‘Aye - but she is coming this time. She is to spend the +winter at the castle, and make acquaintance with all the neighbourhood.’<br> +<br> +‘His lordship is romancing,’ said Claude to Lily in a confidential +tone.<br> +<br> +‘I’ll punish you for suspecting me of talking hyperborean +language - hyperbolical, I mean,’ cried Lord Rotherwood; ‘I’ll +make you dance the Polka with all the beauty and fashion.’<br> +<br> +‘Then I shall stay at Oxford till it is over,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘You do not know what a treasure you will be,’ said the +Marquis, ‘ladies like nothing so well as dancing with a fellow +twice the height he should be.’<br> +<br> +‘Beware of putting me forward,’ said Claude, rising, and, +as he leant against the chimney-piece, looking down from his height +of six feet three, with a patronising air upon his cousin, ‘I +shall be taken for the hero, and you for my little brother.’<br> +<br> +‘I wish I was,’ said Lord Rotherwood, ‘it would be +much better fun. I should escape the speechifying, the worst part +of it.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Claude, ‘for one whose speeches will be +scraps of three words each, strung together with the burthen of the +apprentices’ song, Radara tadara, tandore.’<br> +<br> +‘Radaratade,’ said the Marquis, laughing. ‘By +the bye, if Eleanor and Frank Hawkesworth manage well, they may be here +in time.’<br> +<br> +‘Because they are so devoted to gaiety?’ said Claude. +‘You will say next that William is coming from Canada, on purpose.’<br> +<br> +‘That tall captain!’ said Lord Rotherwood. ‘He +used to be a very awful person.’<br> +<br> +‘Ah! he used to keep the spoilt Marquis in order,’ said +Claude.<br> +<br> +‘To say nothing of the spoilt Claude,’ returned Lord Rotherwood.<br> +<br> +‘Claude never was spoilt,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘It was not Eleanor’s way,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘At least she cannot be accused of spoiling me,’ said Lord +Rotherwood. ‘I shall never dare to write at that round table +again - her figure will occupy the chair like Banquo’s ghost, +and wave me off with a knitting needle.’<br> +<br> +‘Ah! that stain of ink was a worse blot on your character than +on the new table cover,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘She was rigidly impartial,’ said Lord Rotherwood.<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Claude, ‘she made exceptions in favour +of Ada and me. She left the spoiling of the rest to Emily.’<br> +<br> +‘And well Emily will perform it! A pretty state you will +be in by the 30th of July, 1846,’ said Lord Rotherwood.<br> +<br> +‘Why should not Emily make as good a duenna as Eleanor?’ +said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Why should she not? She will not - that is all,’ +said the Marquis. ‘Such slow people you all are! You +would all go to sleep if I did not sometimes rouse you up a little - +grow stagnant.’<br> +<br> +‘Not an elegant comparison,’ said Lilias; ‘besides, +you must remember that your hasty brawling streams do not reflect like +tranquil lakes.’<br> +<br> +‘One of Lily’s poetical hits, I declare!’ said Lord +Rotherwood, ‘but she need not have taken offence - I did not refer +to her - only Claude and Emily, and perhaps - no, I will not say who +else.’<br> +<br> +‘Then, Rotherwood, I will tell you what I am - the Lily that derives +all its support from the calm lake.’<br> +<br> +‘Well done, Lily, worthy of yourself,’ cried Lord Rotherwood, +laughing, ‘but you know I am always off when you talk poetry.’<br> +<br> +‘I suspect it is time for us all to be off,’ said Claude, +‘did I not hear it strike the quarter?’<br> +<br> +‘And to-morrow I shall be off in earnest,’ said Lord Rotherwood. +‘Half way to London before Claude has given one turn to “his +sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head.”’<br> +<br> +‘Shall we see you at Easter?’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘No, I do not think you will. I am engaged to stay with +somebody somewhere, I forget the name of place and man; besides, Grosvenor +Square is more tolerable then than at any other time of the year, and +I shall spend a fortnight with my mother and Florence. It is after +Easter that you come to Oxford, is it not, Claude?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, my year of idleness will be over. And there is the +Baron looking at his watch.’<br> +<br> +The ‘Baron’ was the title by which the young people were +wont to distinguish Mr. Mohun, who, as Lily believed, had a right to +the title of Baron of Beechcroft. It was certain that he was the +representative of a family which had been settled at Beechcroft ever +since the Norman Conquest, and Lily was very proud of the name of Sir +William de Moune in the battle roll, and of Sir John among the first +Knights of the Garter. Her favourite was Sir Maurice, who had +held out Beechcroft Court for six weeks against the Roundheads, and +had seen the greater part of the walls battered down. Witnesses +of the strength of the old castle yet remained in the massive walls +and broad green ramparts, which enclosed what was now orchard and farm-yard, +and was called the Old Court, while the dwelling-house, built by Sir +Maurice after the Restoration, was named the New Court. Sir Maurice +had lost many an acre in the cause of King Charles, and his new mansion +was better suited to the honest squires who succeeded him, than to the +mighty barons his ancestors. It was substantial and well built, +with a square gravelled court in front, and great, solid, folding gates +opening into a lane, bordered with very tall well-clipped holly hedges, +forming a polished, green, prickly wall. There was a little door +in one of these gates, which was scarcely ever shut, from whence a well-worn +path led to the porch, where generally reposed a huge Newfoundland dog, +guardian of the hoops and walkingsticks that occupied the corners. +The front door was of heavy substantial oak, studded with nails, and +never closed in the daytime, and the hall, wainscoted and floored with +slippery oak, had a noble open fireplace, with a wood fire burning on +the hearth.<br> +<br> +On the other side of the house was a terrace sloping down to a lawn +and bowling-green, hedged in by a formal row of evergreens. A +noble plane-tree was in the middle of the lawn, and beyond it a pond +renowned for water-lilies. To the left was the kitchen garden, +terminating in an orchard, planted on the ramparts and moat of the Old +Court; then came the farm buildings, and beyond them a field, sloping +upwards to an extensive wood called Beechcroft Park. In the wood +was the cottage of Walter Greenwood, gamekeeper and woodman by hereditary +succession, but able and willing to turn his hand to anything, and, +in fact, as Adeline once elegantly termed him, the ‘family tee +totum.’<br> +<br> +To the right of the house there was a field, called Long Acre, bounded +on the other side by the turnpike road to Raynham, which led up the +hill to the village green, surrounded by well-kept cottages and gardens. +The principal part of the village was, however, at the foot of the hill, +where the Court lane crossed the road, led to the old church, the school, +and parsonage, in its little garden, shut in by thick yew hedges. +Beyond was the blacksmith’s shop, more cottages, and Mrs. Appleton’s +wondrous village warehouse; and the lane, after passing by the handsome +old farmhouse of Mr. Harrington, Mr. Mohun’s principal tenant, +led to a bridge across a clear trout stream, the boundary of the parish +of Beechcroft.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER III - THE NEW PRINCIPLE<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘And wilt thou show no more, quoth he,<br> + Than doth thy duty bind?<br> +I well perceive thy love is small.’<br> +<br> +On the Sunday evening which followed Eleanor’s wedding, Lilias +was sitting next to Emily, and talking in very earnest tones, which +after a time occasioned Claude to look up and say, ‘What is all +this about? Something remarkably absurd I suspect.’<br> +<br> +‘Only a new principle,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘New!’ cried Lily, ‘only what must be the feeling +of every person of any warmth of character?’<br> +<br> +‘Now for it then,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘No, no, Claude, I really mean it (and Lily sincerely thought +she did). I will not tell you if you are going to laugh.’<br> +<br> +‘That depends upon what your principle may chance to be,’ +said Claude. ‘What is it, Emily? She will be much +obliged to you for telling.’<br> +<br> +‘She only says she cannot bear people to do their duty, and not +to act from a feeling of love,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘That is not fair,’ returned Lily, ‘all I say is, +that it is better that people should act upon love for its own sake, +than upon duty for its own sake.’<br> +<br> +‘What comes in rhyme with Lily?’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Don’t be tiresome, Claude, I really want you to understand +me.’<br> +<br> +‘Wait till you understand yourself,’ said the provoking +brother, ‘and let me finish what I am reading.’<br> +<br> +For about a quarter of an hour he was left in peace, while Lily was +busily employed with a pencil and paper, under the shadow of a book, +and at length laid before him the following verses:-<br> +<br> +<br> +‘What is the source of gentleness,<br> +The spring of human blessedness,<br> +Bringing the wounded spirit healing,<br> +The comforts high of heaven revealing,<br> +The lightener of each daily care,<br> +The wing of hope, the life of prayer,<br> +The zest of joy, the balm of sorrow,<br> +Bliss of to-day, hope of to-morrow,<br> +The glory of the sun’s bright beam,<br> +The softness of the pale moon stream,<br> +The flow’ret’s grace, the river’s voice,<br> +The tune to which the birds rejoice;<br> +Without it, vain each learned page,<br> +Cold and unfelt each council sage,<br> +Heavy and dull each human feature,<br> +Lifeless and wretched every creature;<br> +In which alone the glory lies,<br> +Which value gives to sacrifice?<br> +‘Tis that which formed the whole creation,<br> +Which rests on every generation.<br> +Of Paradise the only token<br> +Just left us, ‘mid our treasures broken,<br> +Which never can from us be riven,<br> +Sure earnest of the joys of Heaven.<br> +And which, when earth shall pass away,<br> +Shall be our rest on the last day,<br> +When tongues shall fail and knowledge cease,<br> +And throbbing hearts be all at peace:<br> +When faith is sight, and hope is sure,<br> +That which alone shall still endure<br> +Of earthly joys in heaven above,<br> +‘Tis that best gift, eternal Love!’<br> +<br> +<br> +‘What have you there?’ said Mr. Mohun, who had come towards +them while Claude was reading the lines. Taking the paper from +Claude’s hand, he read it to himself, and then saying, ‘Tolerable, +Lily; there are some things to alter, but you may easily make it passable,’ +he went on to his own place, leaving Lilias triumphant.<br> +<br> +‘Well, Claude, you see I have the great Baron on my side.’<br> +<br> +‘I am of the Baron’s opinion,’ said Claude, ‘the +only wonder is that you doubted it.’<br> +<br> +‘You seemed to say that love was good for nothing.’<br> +<br> +‘I said nothing but that Lily has a rhyme.’<br> +<br> +‘And saying that I was silly, was equivalent to saying that love +was nothing,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘O Lily, I hope not,’ said Claude, with a comical air.<br> +<br> +‘Well, I know I often am foolish, but not in this,’ said +Lily; ‘I do say that mere duty is not lovable.’<br> +<br> +‘Say it if you will then,’ said Claude, yawning, ‘only +let me finish this sermon.’<br> +<br> +Lily set herself to reconsider some of her lines: but presently Emily +left the room, Claude looked up, and Lily exclaimed, ‘Now, Claude, +let us make a trial of it.’<br> +<br> +‘Well,’ said Claude, yawning again, and looking resigned.<br> +<br> +‘Think how Eleanor went on telling us of duty, duty, duty - never +making allowances - never relaxing her stiff rules about trifles - never +unbending from her duenna-like dignity - never showing one spark of +enthusiasm - making great sacrifices, but only because she thought them +her duty - because it was right - good for herself - only a higher kind +of selfishness - not because her feeling prompted her.’<br> +<br> +‘Certainly, feeling does not usually prompt people to give up +their lovers for the sake of their brothers and sisters.’<br> +<br> +‘She did it because it was her duty,’ said Lily, ‘quite +as if she did not care.’<br> +<br> +‘I wonder whether Frank thought so,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘At any rate you will confess that Emily is a much more engaging +person,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Certainly, I had rather talk nonsense to her,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘You feel it, though you will not allow it,’ said Lily. +‘Now think of Emily’s sympathy, and gentleness, and sweet +smile, and tell me if she is not a complete personification of love. +And then Eleanor, unpoetical - never thrown off her balance by grief +or joy, with no ups and downs - no enthusiasm - no appreciation of the +beautiful - her highest praise “very right,” and tell me +if there can be a better image of duty.’<br> +<br> +Claude might have had some chance of bringing Lily to her senses, if +he had allowed that there was some truth in what she had said; but he +thought the accusation so unjust in general, that he would not agree +to any part of it, and only answered, ‘You have very strange views +of duty and of Eleanor.’<br> +<br> +‘Well!’ replied Lily, ‘I only ask you to watch; Emily +and I are determined to act on the principle of love, and you will see +if her government is not more successful than that of duty.’<br> +<br> +Such was the principle upon which Lily intended her sister to govern +the household, and to which Emily listened without knowing what she +meant much better than she did herself. Emily’s own views, +as far as she possessed any, were to get on as smoothly as she could, +and make everybody pleased and happy, without much trouble to herself, +and also to make the establishment look a little more as if a Lady Emily +had lately been its mistress, than had been the case in Eleanor’s +time. Mr. Mohun’s property was good, but he wished to avoid +unnecessary display and expense, and he expected his daughters to follow +out these views, keeping a wise check upon Emily, by looking over her +accounts every Saturday, and turning a deaf ear when she talked of the +age of the drawing-room carpet, and the ugliness of the old chariot. +Emily had a good deal on her hands, requiring sense and activity, but +Lilias and Jane were now quite old enough to assist her. Lily +however, thought fit to despise all household affairs, and bestowed +the chief of her attention on her own department - the village school +and poor people; and she was also much engrossed by her music and drawing, +her German and Italian, and her verse writing.<br> +<br> +Claude had more power over her than any one else. He was a gentle, +amiable boy, of high talent, but disposed to indolence by ill health. +In most matters he was, however, victorious over this propensity, which +was chiefly visible in his love of easy chairs, and his dislike of active +sports, which made him the especial companion of his sisters. +A dangerous illness had occasioned his removal from Eton, and he had +since been at home, reading with his cousin Mr. Devereux, and sharing +his sisters’ amusements.<br> +<br> +Jane was in her own estimation an important member of the administration, +and in fact, was Emily’s chief assistant and deputy. She +was very small and trimly made, everything fitted her precisely, and +she had tiny dexterous fingers, and active little feet, on which she +darted about noiselessly and swiftly as an arrow; an oval brown face, +bright colour, straight features, and smooth dark hair, bright sparkling +black eyes, a little mouth, wearing an arch subdued smile, very white +teeth, and altogether the air of a woman in miniature. Brisk, +bold, and blithe - ever busy and ever restless, she was generally known +by the names of Brownie and Changeling, which were not inappropriate +to her active and prying disposition.<br> +<br> +Excepting Claude and Emily, the young party were early risers, and Lily +especially had generally despatched a good deal of business before the +eight o’clock breakfast.<br> +<br> +At nine they went to church, Mr. Devereux having restored the custom +of daily service, and after this, Mr. Mohun attended to his multitudinous +affairs; Claude went to the parsonage, - Emily to the storeroom, Lily +to the village, the younger girls to the schoolroom, where they were +presently joined by Emily. Lily remained in her own room till +one o’clock, when she joined the others in the schoolroom, and +they read aloud some book of history till two, the hour of dinner for +the younger, and of luncheon for the elder. They then went out, +and on their return from evening service, which began at half-past four, +the little ones had their lessons to learn, and the others were variously +employed till dinner, the time of which was rather uncertain but always +late. The evening passed pleasantly and quickly away in reading, +work, music, and chatter.<br> +<br> +As Emily had expected, her first troubles were with Phyllis; called, +not the neat handed, by her sisters; Master Phyl, by her brothers; and +Miss Tomboy, by the maids. She seemed born to be a trial of patience +to all concerned with her; yet without many actual faults, except giddiness, +restlessness, and unrestrained spirits. In the drawing-room, schoolroom, +and nursery she was continually in scrapes, and so often reproved and +repentant, that her loud roaring fits of crying were amongst the ordinary +noises of the New Court. She was terribly awkward when under constraint, +or in learning any female accomplishment, but swift and ready when at +her ease, and glorying in the boyish achievements of leaping ditches +and climbing trees. Her voice was rather highly pitched, and she +had an inveterate habit of saying, ‘I’ll tell you what,’ +at the beginning of all her speeches. She was not tall, but strong, +square, firm, and active; she had a round merry face, a broad forehead, +and large bright laughing eyes, of a doubtful shade between gray and +brown. Her mouth was wide, her nose turned up, her complexion +healthy, but not rosy, and her stiff straight brown hair was more apt +to hang over her eyes, than to remain in its proper place behind her +ears.<br> +<br> +Adeline was very different; her fair and brilliant complexion, her deep +blue eyes and golden ringlets, made her a very lovely little creature; +her quietness was a relief after her sister’s boisterous merriment, +and her dislike of dirt and brambles, continually contrasted with poor +Phyllis’s recklessness of such impediments. Ada readily +learnt lessons, which cost Phyllis and her teacher hours of toil; Ada +worked deftly when Phyllis’s stiff fingers never willingly touched +a needle; Ada played with a doll, drew on scraps of paper, or put up +dissected maps, while Phyllis was in mischief or in the way. A +book was the only chance of interesting her; but very few books took +her fancy enough to occupy her long; - those few, however, she read +over and over again, and when unusual tranquillity reigned in the drawing-room, +she was sure to be found curled up at the top of the library steps, +reading one of three books - <i>Robinson Crusoe, Little Jack, </i>or +<i>German Popular Tales</i>. Then Emily blamed her ungraceful +position, Jane laughed at her uniform taste, and Lily proposed some +story about modern children, such as Phyllis never could like, and the +constant speech was repeated, ‘Only look at Ada!’ till Phyllis +considered her sister as a perfect model, and sighed over her own naughtiness.<br> +<br> +<i>German Popular Tales </i>were a recent introduction of Claude’s, +for Eleanor had carefully excluded all fairy tales from her sisters’ +library; so great was her dread of works of fiction, that Emily and +Lilias had never been allowed to read any of the Waverley Novels, excepting +<i>Guy Mannering, </i>which their brother Henry had insisted upon reading +aloud to them the last time he was at home, and that had taken so strong +a hold on their imagination, that Eleanor was quite alarmed.<br> +<br> +One day Mr. Mohun chanced to refer to some passage in <i>Waverley, </i>and +on finding that his daughters did not understand him, he expressed great +surprise at their want of taste.<br> +<br> +Poor things,’ said Claude, ‘they cannot help it; do not +you know that Eleanor thinks the Waverley Novels a sort of slow poison? +They know no more of them than their outsides.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, the sooner they know the inside the better.’<br> +<br> +‘Then may we really read them, papa?’ cried Lily.<br> +<br> +‘And welcome,’ said her father.<br> +<br> +This permission once given, the young ladies had no idea of moderation; +Lily’s heart and soul were wrapped up in whatever tale she chanced +to be reading - she talked of little else, she neglected her daily occupations, +and was in a kind of trance for about three weeks. At length she +was recalled to her senses by her father’s asking her why she +had shown him no drawings lately. Lily hesitated for a moment, +and then said, ‘Papa, I am sorry I was so idle.’<br> +<br> +‘Take care,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘let us be able to give +a good account of ourselves when Eleanor comes.’<br> +<br> +‘I am afraid, papa,’ said Lily, ‘the truth is, that +my head has been so full of <i>Woodstock </i>for the last few days, +that I could do nothing.’<br> +<br> +‘And before that?’<br> +<br> +‘<i>The Bride of Lammermoor.</i>’<br> +<br> +‘And last week?’<br> +<br> +‘<i>Waverley</i>. Oh! papa, I am afraid you must be very +angry with me.’<br> +<br> +‘No, no, Lily, not yet,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘I do not +think you quite knew what an intoxicating draught you had got hold of; +I should have cautioned you. Your negligence has not yet been +a serious fault, though remember, that it becomes so after warning.’<br> +<br> +‘Then,’ said Lily, ‘I will just finish <i>Peveril +</i>at once, and get it out of my head, and then read no more of the +dear books,’ and she gave a deep sigh.<br> +<br> +‘Lily would take the temperance pledge, on condition that she +might finish her bottle at a draught,’ said Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +Lily laughed, and looked down, feeling quite unable to offer to give +up <i>Peveril </i>before she had finished it, but her father relieved +her, by saying in his kind voice, ‘No, no, Lily, take my advice, +read those books, for most of them are very good reading, and very pretty +reading, and very useful reading, and you can hardly be called a well-educated +person if you do not know them; but read them only after the duties +of the day are done - make them your pleasure, but do not make yourself +their slave.’<br> +<br> +‘Lily,’ said Claude the next morning, as he saw her prepare +her drawing-desk, ‘why are you not reading <i>Peveril</i>?’<br> +<br> +‘You know what papa said yesterday,’ was the answer.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! but I thought your feelings were with poor Julian in the +Tower,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘My feelings prompt me to sacrifice my pleasure in reading about +him to please papa, after he spoke so kindly.’<br> +<br> +‘If that is always the effect of your principle, I shall think +better of it,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +Lily, whether from her new principle, or her old habits of obedience, +never ventured to touch one of her tempters till after five o’clock, +but, as she was a very rapid reader, she generally contrived to devour +more than a sufficient quantity every evening, so that she did not enjoy +them as much as she would, had she been less voracious in her appetite, +and they made her complain grievously of the dulness of the latter part +of Russell’s <i>Modern Europe, </i>which was being read in the +schoolroom, and yawn nearly as much as Phyllis over the ‘Pragmatic +Sanction.’ However, when that book was concluded, and they +began Palgrave’s <i>Anglo Saxons, </i>Lily was seized within a +sudden historical fever. She could hardly wait till one o’clock, +before she settled herself at the schoolroom table with her work, and +summoned every one, however occupied, to listen to the reading.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER IV - HONEST PHYL<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Multiplication<br> +Is a vexation.’<br> +<br> +It was a bright and beautiful afternoon in March, the song of the blackbird +and thrush, and the loud chirp of the titmouse, came merrily through +the schoolroom window, mixed with the sounds of happy voices in the +garden; the western sun shone brightly in, and tinged the white wainscoted +wall with yellow light; the cat sat in the window-seat, winking at the +sun, and sleepily whisking her tail for the amusement of her kitten, +which was darting to and fro, and patting her on the head, in the hope +of rousing her to some more active sport.<br> +<br> +But in the midst of all these joyous sights and sounds, was heard a +dolorous voice repeating, ‘three and four are - three and four +are - oh dear! they are - seven, no, but I do not think it is a four +after all, is it not a one? Oh dear!’ And on the floor +lay Phyllis, her back to the window, kicking her feet slowly up and +down, and yawning and groaning over her slate.<br> +<br> +Presently the door opened, and Claude looked in, and very nearly departed +again instantly, for Phyllis at that moment made a horrible squeaking +with her slate-pencil, the sound above all others that he disliked. +He, however, stopped, and asked where Emily was.<br> +<br> +‘Out in the garden,’ answered Phyllis, with a tremendous +yawn.<br> +<br> +‘What are you doing here, looking so piteous?’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘My sum,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘Is this your time of day for arithmetic?’ asked he.<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Phyllis, ‘only I had not done it by one +o’clock to-day, and Lily said I must finish after learning my +lessons for to-morrow, but I do not think I shall ever have done, it +is so hard. Oh!’ (another stretch and a yawn, verging on +a howl), ‘and Jane and Ada are sowing the flower-seeds. +Oh dear! Oh dear!’ and Phyllis’s face contracted, +in readiness to cry.<br> +<br> +‘And is that the best position for doing sums?’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘I was obliged to lie down here to get out of the way of Ada’s +sum,’ said Phyllis, getting up.<br> +<br> +‘Get out of the way of Ada’s sum?’ repeated Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Yes, she left it on the table where I was sitting, where I could +see it, and it is this very one, so I must not look at it; I wish I +could do sums as fast as she can.’<br> +<br> +‘Could you not have turned the other side of the slate upwards?’ +said Claude, smiling.<br> +<br> +‘So I could!’ said Phyllis, as if a new light had broken +in upon her. ‘But then I wanted to be out of sight of pussy, +for I could not think a bit, while the kitten was at play so prettily, +and I kicked my heels to keep from hearing the voices in the garden, +for it does make me so unhappy!’<br> +<br> +Some good-natured brothers would have told the little girl not to mind, +and sent her out to enjoy herself, but Claude respected Phyllis’s +honesty too much to do so, and he said, ‘Well, Phyl, let me see +the sum, and we will try if we cannot conquer it between us.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis’s face cleared up in an instant, as she brought the slate +to her brother.<br> +<br> +‘What is this?’ said he; ‘I do not understand.’<br> +<br> +‘Compound Addition,’ said Phyllis, ‘I did one with +Emily yesterday, and this is the second.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! these are marks between the pounds, shillings, and pence,’ +said Claude, ‘I took them for elevens; well, I do not wonder at +your troubles, I could not do this sum as it is set.’<br> +<br> +‘Could not you, indeed?’ cried Phyllis, quite delighted.<br> +<br> +‘No, indeed,’ said Claude. ‘Suppose we set it +again, more clearly; but how is this? When I was in the schoolroom +we always had a sponge fastened to the slate.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Phyllis, ‘I had one before Eleanor went, +but my string broke, and I lost it, and Emily always forgets to give +me another. I will run and wash the slate in the nursery; but +how shall we know what the sum is?’<br> +<br> +‘Why, I suppose I may look at Ada’s slate, though you must +not,’ said Claude, laughing to himself at poor little honest simplicity, +as he applied himself to cut a new point to her very stumpy slate-pencil, +and she scampered away, and returned in a moment with her clean slate.<br> +<br> +‘Oh, how nice and fresh it all looks!’ said she as he set +down the clear large figures. ‘I cannot think how you can +do it so evenly.’<br> +<br> +‘Now, Phyl, do not let the pencil scream if you can help it.’<br> +<br> +Claude found that Phyllis’s great difficulty was with the farthings. +She could not understand the fractional figures, and only knew thus +far, that ‘Emily said it never meant four.’<br> +<br> +Claude began explaining, but his first attempt was far too scientific. +Phyllis gave a desponding sigh, looking so mystified, that he began +to believe that she was hopelessly dull, and to repent of having offered +to help her; but at last, by means of dividing a card into four pieces, +he succeeded in making her comprehend him, and her eyes grew bright +with the pleasure of understanding.<br> +<br> +Even then the difficulties were not conquered, her addition was very +slow, and dividing by twelve and twenty seemed endless work; at length +the last figure of the pounds was set down, the slate was compared with +Adeline’s, and the sum pronounced to be right. Phyllis capered +up to the kitten and tossed it up in the air in her joy, then coming +slowly back to her brother, she said with a strange, awkward air, hanging +down her head, ‘Claude, I’ll tell you what - ’<br> +<br> +‘Well, what?’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘I should like to kiss you.’<br> +<br> +Then away she bounded, clattered down stairs, and flew across the lawn +to tell every one she met that Claude had helped her to do her sum, +and that it was quite right.<br> +<br> +‘Did you expect that it would be too hard for him, Phyl?’ +said Jane, laughing.<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Phyllis, ‘but he said he could not do it +as it was set.’<br> +<br> +‘And whose fault was that?’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! but he showed me how to set it better,’ said Phyllis, +‘and he said that when he learnt the beginning of fractions, he +thought them as hard as I do.’<br> +<br> +‘Fractions!’ said Jane, ‘you do not fancy you have +come to fractions yet! Fine work you will make of them when you +do!’<br> +<br> +In the evening, as soon as the children were gone to bed, Jane took +a paper out of her work-basket, saying, ‘There, Emily, is my account +of Phyl’s scrapes through this whole week; I told you I should +write them all down.’<br> +<br> +‘How kind!’ muttered Claude.<br> +<br> +Regardless of her brother, who had not looked up from his book, Jane +began reading her list of poor Phyllis’s misadventures. +‘On Monday she tore her frock by climbing a laurel-tree, to look +at a blackbird’s nest.’<br> +<br> +‘I gave her leave,’ said Emily. ‘Rachel had +ordered her not to climb; and she was crying because she could not see +the nest that Wat Greenwood had found.’<br> +<br> +‘On Tuesday she cried over her French grammar, and tore a leaf +out of the old spelling-book.’<br> +<br> +‘That was nearly out before,’ said Emily, ‘Maurice +and Redgie spoilt that long ago.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not know of anything on Wednesday, but on Thursday she threw +Ada down the steps out of the nursery.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! that accounts for the dreadful screaming that I heard,’ +said Claude; ‘I forgot to ask the meaning of it.’<br> +<br> +‘I am sure it was Phyl that was the most dismayed, and cried the +loudest,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘That she always does,’ said Jane. ‘On Friday +we had an uproar in the schoolroom about her hemming, and on Saturday +she tumbled into a wet ditch, and tore her bonnet in the brambles; on +Sunday, she twisted her ancles together at church.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, there I did chance to observe her,’ said Lily, ‘there +seemed to be a constant struggle between her ancles and herself, they +were continually coming lovingly together, but were separated the next +moment.’<br> +<br> +‘And to-day this sum,’ said Jane; ‘seven scrapes in +one week! I really am of opinion, as Rachel says when she is angry, +that school is the best place for her.’<br> +<br> +‘I think so too,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘I do not know,’ said Emily, ‘she is very troublesome, +but - ’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, Claude!’ cried Lily, ‘you do not mean that you +would have that poor dear merry Master Phyl sent to school, she would +pine away like a wild bird in a cage; but papa will never think of such +a thing.’<br> +<br> +‘If I thought of her being sent to school,’ said Claude, +‘it would be to shield her from - the rule of love.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! you think we are too indulgent,’ said Emily; ‘perhaps +we are, but you know we cannot torment a poor child all day long.’<br> +<br> +‘If you call the way you treat her indulgent, I should like to +know what you call severe.’<br> +<br> +‘What do you mean, Claude?’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘I call your indulgence something like the tender mercies of the +wicked,’ said Claude. ‘On a fine day, when every one +is taking their pleasure in the garden, to shut an unhappy child up +in the schoolroom, with a hard sum that you have not taken the trouble +to teach her how to do, and late in the day, when no one’s head +is clear for difficult arithmetic - ’<br> +<br> +‘Hard sum do you call it?’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Indeed I explained it to her,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘And well she understood you,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘She might have learnt if she had attended,’ said Emily; +‘Ada understood clearly, with the same explanation.’<br> +<br> +‘And do not you be too proud of the effect of your instructions, +Claude,’ said Jane, ‘for when honest Phyl came into the +garden, she did not know farthings from fractions.’<br> +<br> +‘And pray, Mrs. Senior Wrangler,’ said Claude, ‘will +you tell me where is the difference between a half-penny and half a +penny?’<br> +<br> +After a good laugh at Jane’s expense, Emily went on, ‘Now, +Claude, I will tell you how it happened; Phyllis is so slow, and dawdles +over her lessons so long, that it is quite a labour to hear her; Ada +is quick enough, but if you were to hear Phyllis say one column of spelling, +you would know what misery is. Then before she has half finished, +the clock strikes one, it is time to read, and the lessons are put off +till the afternoon. I certainly did not know that she was about +her sum all that time, or I would have sent her out as I did on Saturday.’<br> +<br> +‘And the reading at one is as fixed as fate,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Oh, no!’ said Jane, ‘when we were about old “Russell,” +we did not begin till nearly two, but since we have been reading this +book, Lily will never let us rest till we begin; she walks up and down, +and hurries and worries and - ’<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Emily, in a murmuring voice, ‘we should +do better if Lily would not make such a point of that one thing; but +she never minds what else is cut short, and she never thinks of helping +me. It never seems to enter her head how much I have on my hands, +and no one does anything to help me.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, Emily! you never asked me,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘I knew you would not like it,’ said Emily. ‘No, +it is not my way to complain, people may see how to help me if they +choose to do it.’<br> +<br> +‘Lily, Lily, take care,’ said Claude, in a low voice; ‘is +not the rule you admire, the rule of love of yourself?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, Claude!’ returned Lily, ‘do not say so, you know +it was Emily that I called an example of it, not myself, and see how +forbearing she has been. Now I see that I am really wanted, I +will help. It must be love, not duty, that calls me to the schoolroom, +for no one ever said that was my province.’<br> +<br> +‘Poor duty! you give it a very narrow boundary.’<br> +<br> +Lilias, who, to say the truth, had been made more careful of her own +conduct, by the wish to establish her principle, really betook herself +to the schoolroom for an hour every morning, with a desire to be useful. +She thought she did great things in undertaking those tasks of Phyllis’s +which Emily most disliked. But Lilias was neither patient nor +humble enough to be a good teacher, though she could explain difficult +rules in a sensible way. She could not, or would not, understand +the difference between dulness and inattention; her sharp hasty manner +would frighten away all her pupil’s powers of comprehension; she +sometimes fell into the great error of scolding, when Phyllis was doing +her best, and the poor child’s tears flowed more frequently than +ever.<br> +<br> +Emily’s gentle manner made her instructions far more agreeable, +though she was often neither clear nor correct in her explanations; +she was contented if the lessons were droned through in any manner, +so long as she could say they were done; she disliked a disturbance, +and overlooked or half corrected mistakes rather than cause a cry. +Phyllis naturally preferred being taught by her, and Lily was vexed +and unwilling to persevere. She went to the schoolroom expecting +to be annoyed, created vexation for herself, and taught in anything +but a loving spirit. Still, however, the thought of Claude, and +the wish to do more than her duty, kept her constant to her promise, +and her love of seeing things well done was useful, though sadly counterbalanced +by her deficiency in temper and patience.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER V - VILLAGE GOSSIP<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘The deeds we do, the words we say,<br> + Into still air they seem to fleet;<br> +We count them past,<br> + But they shall last.’<br> +<br> +Soon after Easter, Claude went to Oxford. He was much missed by +his sisters, who wanted him to carve for them at luncheon, to escort +them when they rode or walked, to hear their music, talk over their +books, advise respecting their drawings, and criticise Lily’s +verses. A new subject of interest was, however, arising for them +in the neighbours who were shortly expected to arrive at Broom Hill, +a house which had lately been built in a hamlet about a mile and a half +from the New Court.<br> +<br> +These new comers were the family of a barrister of the name of Weston, +who had taken the house for the sake of his wife, her health having +been much injured by her grief at the loss of two daughters in the scarlet +fever. Two still remained, a grown-up young lady, and a girl of +eleven years old, and the Miss Mohuns learnt with great delight that +they should have near neighbours of their own age. They had never +had any young companions as young ladies were scarce among their acquaintance, +and they had not seen their cousin, Lady Florence Devereux, since they +were children.<br> +<br> +It was with great satisfaction that Emily and Lilias set out with their +father to make the first visit, and they augured well from their first +sight of Mrs. Weston and her daughters. Mrs. Weston was alone, +her daughters being out walking, and Lily spent the greater part of +the visit in silence, though her mind was made up in the first ten minutes, +as she told Emily on leaving the house, ‘that Miss Weston’s +tastes were in complete accordance with her own.’<br> +<br> +‘Rapid judgment,’ said Emily. ‘Love before first +sight. But Mrs. Weston is a very sweet person.’<br> +<br> +‘And, Emily, did you see the music-book open at “Angels +ever bright and fair?” If Miss Weston sings that as I imagine +it!’<br> +<br> +‘How could you see what was in the music-book at the other end +of the room? I only saw it was a beautiful piano. And what +handsome furniture! it made me doubly ashamed of our faded carpet and +chairs, almost as old as the house itself.’<br> +<br> +‘Emily!’ said Lily, in her most earnest tones, ‘I +would not change one of those dear old chairs for a king’s ransom!’<br> +<br> +The visit was in a short time returned, and though it was but a formal +morning call, Lilias found her bright expectations realised by the sweetness +of Alethea Weston’s manners, and the next time they met it was +a determined thing in her mind that, as Claude would have said, they +had sworn an eternal friendship.<br> +<br> +She had the pleasure of lionising the two sisters over the Old Court, +telling all she knew and all she imagined about the siege, Sir Maurice +Mohun, and his faithful servant, Walter Greenwood. ‘Miss +Weston,’ said she in conclusion, ‘have you read <i>Old Mortality</i>?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Alethea, amused at the question.<br> +<br> +‘Because they say I am as bad as Lady Margaret about the king’s +visit.’<br> +<br> +‘I have not heard the story often enough to think so,’ said +Miss Weston, ‘I will warn you if I do.’<br> +<br> +In the meantime Phyllis and Adeline were equally charmed with Marianne, +though shocked at her ignorance of country manners, and, indeed, Alethea +was quite diverted with Lily’s pity at the discovery that she +had never before been in the country in the spring. ‘What,’ +she cried, ‘have you never seen the tufts of red on the hazel, +nor the fragrant golden palms, and never heard the blackbird rush twittering +out of the hedge, nor the first nightingale’s note, nor the nightjar’s +low chirr, nor the chattering of the rooks? O what a store of +sweet memories you have lost! Why, how can you understand the +beginning of the Allegro?’<br> +<br> +Both the Miss Westons had so much pleasure in making acquaintance with +‘these delights,’ as quite to compensate for their former +ignorance, and soon the New Court rang with their praises. Mr. +Mohun thought very highly of the whole family, and rejoiced in such +society for his daughters, and they speedily became so well acquainted, +that it was the ordinary custom of the Westons to take luncheon at the +New Court on Sunday. On her side, however, Alethea Weston felt +some reluctance to become intimate with the young ladies of the New +Court. She was pleased with Emily’s manners, interested +by Lily’s earnestness and simplicity, and thought Jane a clever +and amusing little creature, but even their engaging qualities gave +her pain, by reminding her of the sisters she had lost, or by making +her think how they would have liked them. A country house and +neighbours like these had been the objects of many visions of their +childhood, and now all the sweet sights and sounds around her only made +her think how she should have enjoyed them a year ago. She felt +almost jealous of Marianne’s liking for her new friends, lest +they should steal her heart from Emma and Lucy; but knowing that these +were morbid and unthankful feelings, she struggled against them, and +though she missed her sisters even more than when her mother and Marianne +were in greater need of her attention, she let no sign of her sorrowful +feeling appear, and seeing that Marianne was benefited in health and +spirits, by intercourse with young companions, she gave no hint of her +disinclination to join in the walks and other amusements of the Miss +Mohuns.<br> +<br> +She also began to take interest in the poor people. By Mrs. Weston’s +request, Mr. Devereux had pointed out the families which were most in +need of assistance, and Alethea made it her business to find out the +best way of helping them. She visited the village school with +Lilias, and when requested by her and by the Rector to give her aid +in teaching, she did not like to refuse what might be a duty, though +she felt very diffident of her powers of instruction. Marianne, +like Phyllis and Adeline, became a Sunday scholar, and was catechised +with the others in church. Both Mr. Mohun and his nephew thought +very highly of the family, and the latter was particularly glad that +Lily should have some older person to assist her in those parish matters +which he left partly in her charge.<br> +<br> +Mr. Devereux had been Rector of Beechcroft about a year and a half, +and had hitherto been much liked. His parishioners had known him +from a boy, and were interested about him, and though very young, there +was something about him that gained their respect. Almost all +his plans were going on well, and things were, on the whole, in a satisfactory +state, though no one but Lilias expected even Cousin Robert to make +a Dreamland of Beechcroft, and there were days when he looked worn and +anxious, and the girls suspected that some one was behaving ill.<br> +<br> +‘Have you a headache, Robert?’ asked Emily, a few evenings +before Whit-Sunday, ‘you have not spoken three words this evening.’<br> +<br> +‘Not at all, thank you,’ said Mr. Devereux, smiling, ‘you +need not think to make me your victim, now you have no Claude to nurse.’<br> +<br> +‘Then if it is not bodily, it is mental,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘I am in a difficulty about the christening of Mrs. Naylor’s +child.’<br> +<br> +‘Naylor the blacksmith?’<i> </i>said Jane. ‘I +thought it was high time for it to be christened. It must be six +weeks old.’<br> +<br> +‘Is it not to be on Whit-Sunday?’<i> </i>said Lily, disconsolately.<br> +<br> +‘Oh no! Mrs. Naylor will not hear of bringing the child +on a Sunday, and I could hardly make her think it possible to bring +it on Whit-Tuesday.’<br> +<br> +‘Why did you not insist?’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Perhaps I might, if there was no other holy day at hand, or if +there was not another difficulty, a point on which I cannot give way.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! the godfathers and godmothers,’ said Lily, ‘does +she want that charming brother of hers, Edward Gage?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, and what is worse, Edward Gage’s dissenting wife, +and Dick Rodd, who shows less sense of religion than any one in the +parish, and has never been confirmed.’<br> +<br> +‘Could you make them hear reason?’<br> +<br> +‘They were inclined to be rather impertinent,’ said Mr. +Devereux. ‘Old Mrs. Gage - ’<br> +<br> +‘Oh!’ interrupted Jane, ‘there is no hope for you +if the sour Gage is in the pie.’<br> +<br> +‘The sour Gage told me people were not so particular in her younger +days, and perhaps they should not have the child christened at all, +since I was such a <i>contrary </i>gentleman. Tom Naylor was not +at home, I am to see him to-morrow.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, I do not think Tom Naylor is as bad as the rest,’ +said Lily; ‘he would have been tolerable, if he had married any +one but Martha Gage.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, he is an open good-natured fellow, and I have hopes of making +an impression on him.’<br> +<br> +‘If not,’ said Lily, ‘I hope papa will take away his +custom.’<br> +<br> +‘What?’ said Mr. Mohun, who always heard any mention of +himself. Mr. Devereux repeated his history, and discussed the +matter with his uncle, only once interrupted by an inquiry from Jane +about the child’s name, a point on which she could gain no intelligence. +His report the next day was not decidedly unfavourable, though he scarcely +hoped the christening would be so soon as Tuesday. He had not +seen the father, and suspected he had purposely kept out of the way.<br> +<br> +Jane, disappointed that the baby’s name remained a mystery, resolved +to set out on a voyage of discovery. Accordingly, as soon as her +cousin was gone, she asked Emily if she had not been saying that Ada +wanted some more cotton for her sampler.<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Emily, ‘but I am not going to walk all +the way to Mrs. Appleton’s this afternoon.’<br> +<br> +‘Shall I go?’ said Jane. ‘Ada, run and fetch +your pattern.’ Emily and Ada were much obliged by Jane’s +disinterested offer, and in a quarter of an hour Ada’s thoughts +and hands were busy in Mrs. Appleton’s drawer of many-coloured +cotton.<br> +<br> +‘What a pity this is about Mrs. Naylor’s baby,’ began +Jane.<br> +<br> +‘It is a sad story indeed, Miss Jane, I am sure it must be grievous +to Mr. Devereux,’ said Mrs. Appleton. ‘Betsy Wall +said he had been there three times about it.’<br> +<br> +‘Ah! we all know that Walls have ears,’ said Jane; ‘how +that Betsy does run about gossiping!’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, Miss Jane, there she bides all day long at the stile gaping; +not a stitch does she do for her mother; I cannot tell what is to be +the end of it.’<br> +<br> +‘And do you know what the child’s name is to be, Mrs. Appleton?’<br> +<br> +‘No, Miss Jane,’ answered Mrs. Appleton. ‘Betsy +did say they talked of naming him after his uncle, Edward Gage, only +Mr. Devereux would not let him stand.’<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Jane. ‘Since he married that dissenting +wife he never comes near the church; he is too much like the sour Gage, +as we call his mother, to be good for much. But, after all, he +is not so bad as Dick Rodd, who has never been confirmed, and has never +shown any sense of religion in his life.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, Miss, Dick Rodd is a sad fellow: did you hear what a row +there was at the Mohun Arms last week, Miss Jane?’<br> +<br> +‘Aye,’ said Jane, ‘and papa says he shall certainly +turn Dick Rodd out of the house as soon as the lease is out, and it +is only till next Michaelmas twelve-months.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, Miss, as I said to Betsy Wall, it would be more for their +interest to behave well.’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed it would,’ said Jane. ‘Robert and papa +were talking of having their horses shod at Stoney Bridge, if Tom Naylor +will be so obstinate, only papa does not like to give Tom up if he can +help it, because his father was so good, and Tom would not be half so +bad if he had not married one of the Gages.’<br> +<br> +‘Here is Cousin Robert coming down the lane,’ said Ada, +who had chosen her cotton, and was gazing from the door. Jane +gave a violent start, took a hurried leave of Mrs. Appleton, and set +out towards home; she could not avoid meeting her cousin.<br> +<br> +‘Oh, Jenny! have you been enjoying a gossip with your great ally?’ +said he.<br> +<br> +‘We have only been buying pink cotton,’ said Ada, whose +conscience was clear.<br> +<br> +‘Ah!’ said Mr. Devereux, ‘Beechcroft affairs would +soon stand still, without those useful people, Mrs. Appleton, Miss Wall, +and Miss Jane Mohun,’ and he passed on. Jane felt her face +colouring, his freedom from suspicion made her feel very guilty, but +the matter soon passed out of her mind.<br> +<br> +Blithe Whit-Sunday came, the five Miss Mohuns appeared in white frocks, +new bonnets were plenty, the white tippets of the children, and the +bright shawls of the mothers, made the village look gay; Wat Greenwood +stuck a pink between his lips, and the green boughs of hazel and birch +decked the dark oak carvings in the church.<br> +<br> +And Whit-Monday came. At half-past ten the rude music of the band +of the Friendly Society came pealing from the top of the hill, then +appeared two tall flags, crowned with guelder roses and peonies, then +the great blue drum, the clarionet blown by red-waist-coated and red-faced +Mr. Appleton, the three flutes and the triangle, all at their loudest, +causing some of the spectators to start, and others to dance. +Then behold the whole procession of labourers, in white round frocks, +blue ribbons in their hats, and tall blue staves in their hands. +In the rear, the confused mob, women and children, cheerful faces and +mirthful sounds everywhere. These were hushed as the flags were +lowered to pass under the low-roofed gateway of the churchyard, and +all was still, except the trampling of feet on the stone floor. +Then the service began, the responses were made in full and hearty tones, +almost running into a chant, the old 133rd Psalm was sung as loudly +and as badly as usual, a very short but very earnest sermon was preached, +and forth came the troop again.<br> +<br> +Mr. Devereux always dined with the club in a tent, at the top of the +hill, but his uncle made him promise to come to a second dinner at the +New Court in the evening.<br> +<br> +‘Robert looks anxious,’ said Lily, as she parted with him +after the evening service; ‘I am afraid something is going wrong.’<br> +<br> +‘Trust me for finding out what it is,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘No, no, Jenny, do not ask him,’ said Lily; ‘if he +tells us to relieve his mind, I am very glad he should make friends +of us, but do not ask. Let us talk of other things to put it out +of his head, whatever it may be.’<br> +<br> +Jane soon heard more of the cause of the depression of her cousin’s +spirits than even she had any desire to do. After dinner, the +girls were walking in the garden, enjoying the warmth of the evening, +when Mr. Devereux came up to her and drew her aside from the rest, telling +her that he wished to speak to her.<br> +<br> +‘Oh!’ said Jane, ‘when am I to meet you at school +again? You never told me which chapter I was to prepare; I cannot +think what would become of your examinations if it was not for me, you +could not get an answer to one question in three.’<br> +<br> +‘That was not what I wished to speak to you about,’ said +Mr. Devereux. ‘What had you been saying to Mrs. Appleton +when I met you at her door on Saturday?’<br> +<br> +The colour rushed into Jane’s cheeks, but she replied without +hesitation, ‘Oh! different things, <i>La pluie et le beau temps, +</i>just as usual.’<br> +<br> +‘Cannot you remember anything more distinctly?’<br> +<br> +‘I always make a point of forgetting what I talk about,’ +said Jane, trying to laugh.<br> +<br> +‘Now, Jane, let me tell you what has happened in the village - +as I came down the hill from the club-dinner - ’<br> +<br> +‘Oh,’ said Jane, hoping to make a diversion, ‘Wat +Greenwood came back about a quarter of an hour ago, and he - ’<br> +<br> +Mr. Devereux proceeded without attending to her, ‘As I came down +the hill from the club-dinner, old Mrs. Gage came out of Naylor’s +house, and her daughter with her, in great anger, calling me to account +for having spoken of her in a most unbecoming way, calling her the sour +Gage, and trying to set the Squire against them.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, that abominable chattering woman!’ Jane exclaimed; +‘and Betsy Wall too, I saw her all alive about something. +What a nuisance such people are!’<br> +<br> +‘In short,’ said Mr. Devereux, ‘I heard an exaggerated +account of all that passed here on the subject the other day. +Now, Jane, am I doing you any injustice in thinking that it must have +been through you that this history went abroad into the village?’<br> +<br> +‘Well,’ said Jane, ‘I am sure you never told us that +it was any secret. When a story is openly told to half a dozen +people they cannot be expected to keep it to themselves.’<br> +<br> +‘I spoke uncharitably and incautiously,’ said he, ‘I +am willing to confess, but it is nevertheless my duty to set before +you the great matter that this little fire has kindled.’<br> +<br> +‘Why, it cannot have done any great harm, can it?’ asked +Jane, the agitation of her voice and laugh betraying that she was not +quite so careless as she wished to appear. ‘Only the sour +Gage will ferment a little.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, Jane! I did not expect that you would treat this matter +so lightly.’<br> +<br> +‘But tell me, what harm has it done?’ asked she.<br> +<br> +‘Do you consider it nothing that the poor child should remain +unbaptized, that discord should be brought into the parish, that anger +should be on the conscience of your neighbour, that he should be driven +from the church?’<br> +<br> +‘Is it as bad as that?’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘We do not yet see the full extent of the mischief our idle words +may have done,’ said Mr. Devereux.<br> +<br> +‘But it is their own fault, if they will do wrong,’ said +Jane; ‘they ought not to be in a rage, we said nothing but the +truth.’<br> +<br> +‘I wish I was clear of the sin,’ said her cousin.<br> +<br> +‘And after all,’ said Jane, ‘I cannot see that I was +much to blame; I only talked to Mrs. Appleton, as I have done scores +of times, and no one minded it. You only laughed at me on Saturday, +and papa and Eleanor never scolded me.’<br> +<br> +‘You cannot say that no one has ever tried to check you,’ +said the Rector.<br> +<br> +‘And how was I to know that that mischief-maker would repeat it?’ +said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘I do not mean to say,’ said Mr. Devereux, ‘that you +actually committed a greater sin than you may often have done, by talking +in a way which you knew would displease your father. I know we +are too apt to treat lightly the beginnings of evil, until some sudden +sting makes us feel what a serpent we have been fostering. Think +this a warning, pray that the evil we dread may be averted; but should +it ensue, consider it as a punishment sent in mercy. It will be +better for you not to come to school to-morrow; instead of the references +you were to have looked out, I had rather you read over in a humble +spirit the Epistle of St. James.’<br> +<br> +Jane’s tears by this time were flowing fast, and finding that +she no longer attempted to defend herself, her cousin said no more. +He joined the others, and Jane, escaping to her own room, gave way to +a passionate fit of crying. Whether her tears were of true sorrow +or of anger she could not have told herself; she was still sobbing on +her bed when the darkness came on, and her two little sisters came in +on their way to bed to wish her good-night.<br> +<br> +‘Oh, Jane, Jane! what is the matter? have you been naughty?’<i> +</i>asked the little girls in great amazement.<br> +<br> +‘Never mind,’ said Jane, shortly; ‘good-night,’ +and she sat up and wiped away her tears. The children still lingered. +‘Go away, do,’ said she. ‘Is Robert gone?’<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Phyllis, ‘he is reading the newspaper.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis and Adeline left the room, and Jane walked up and down, considering +whether she should venture to go down to tea; perhaps her cousin had +waited till the little girls had gone before he spoke to Mr. Mohun, +or perhaps her red eyes might cause questions on her troubles; she was +still in doubt when Lily opened the door, a lamp in her hand.<br> +<br> +‘My dear Jenny, are you here? Ada told me you were crying, +what is the matter?’<br> +<br> +‘Then you have not heard?’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Only Robert began just now, “Poor Jenny, she has been the +cause of getting us into a very awkward scrape,” but then Ada +came to tell me about you, and I came away.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Jane, angrily, ‘he will throw all the +blame upon me, when I am sure it was quite as much the fault of that +horrible Mrs. Appleton, and papa will be as angry as possible.’<br> +<br> +‘But what has happened?’ asked Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! that chatterer, that worst of gossipers, has gone and told +the Naylors and Mrs. Gage all we said about them the other day.’<br> +<br> +‘So you told Mrs. Appleton?’ said Lily; ‘so that was +the reason you were so obliging about the marking thread. Oh, +Jane, you had better say no more about Mrs. Appleton! And has +it done much mischief?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Mrs. Gage “pitched” into Robert, as Wat +Greenwood would say, and the christening is off again.’<br> +<br> +‘Jane, this is frightful,’ said Lily; ‘I do not wonder +that you are unhappy.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, I daresay it will all come right again,’ said Jane; +‘there will only be a little delay, papa and Robert will bring +them to their senses in time.’<br> +<br> +‘Suppose the baby was to die,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Oh, it will not die,’ said Jane, ‘a great fat healthy +thing like that likely to die indeed!’<br> +<br> +‘I cannot make you out, Jane,’ said Lily. ‘If +I had done such a thing, I do not think I could have a happy minute +till it was set right.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, I told you I was very sorry,’ said Jane, ‘only +I wish they would not all be so hard upon me. Robert owns that +he should not have said such things if he did not wish them to be repeated.’<br> +<br> +‘Does he?’ cried Lily. ‘How exactly like Robert +that is, to own himself in fault when he is obliged to blame others. +Jane, how could you hear him say such things and not be overcome with +shame? And then to turn it against him! Oh, Jane, I do not +think I can talk to you any more.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not mean to say it was not very good of him,’ said +Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Good of him - what a word!’ cried Lily. ‘Well, +good-night, I cannot bear to talk to you now. Shall I say anything +for you downstairs?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, tell papa and Robert I am very sorry,’ said Jane. +‘I shall not come down again, you may leave the lamp.’<br> +<br> +On her way downstairs in the dark Lilias was led, by the example of +her cousin, to reflect that she was not without some share in the mischief +that had been done; the words which report imputed to Mr. Devereux were +mostly her own or Jane’s. There was no want of candour in +Lily, and as soon as she entered the drawing-room she went straight +up to her father and cousin, and began, ‘Poor Jenny is very unhappy; +she desired me to tell you how sorry she is. But I really believe +that I did the mischief, Robert. It was I who said those foolish +things that were repeated as if you had said them. It is a grievous +affair, but who could have thought that we were doing so much harm?’<br> +<br> +‘Perhaps it may not do any,’ said Emily. ‘The +Naylors have a great deal of good about them.’<br> +<br> +‘They must have more than I suppose, if they can endure what Robert +is reported to have said of them,’ said Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘What did you say, Robert,’ said Lily, ‘did you not +tell them all was said by your foolish young cousins?’<br> +<br> +‘I agreed with you too much to venture on contradicting the report; +you know I could not even deny having called Mrs. Gage by that name.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, if I could do anything to mend it!’ cried Lily.<br> +<br> +But wishes had no effect. Lilias and Jane had to mourn over the +full extent of harm done by hasty words. After the more respectable +men had left the Mohun Arms on the evening of Whit-Monday, the rest +gave way to unrestrained drunkenness, not so much out of reckless self-indulgence, +as to defy the clergyman and the squire. They came to the front +of the parsonage, yelled and groaned for some time, and ended by breaking +down the gate.<br> +<br> +This conduct was repeated on Tuesday, and on many Saturdays following; +some young trees in the churchyard were cut, and abuse of the parson +written on the walls the idle young men taking this opportunity to revenge +their own quarrels, caused by Mr. Devereux’s former efforts for +their reformation.<br> +<br> +On Sunday several children were absent from school; all those belonging +to Farmer Gage’s labourers were taken away, and one man was turned +off by the farmers for refusing to remove his child.<br> +<br> +Now that the war was carried on so openly, Mr. Mohun considered it his +duty to withdraw his custom from one who chose to set his pastor at +defiance. He went to the forge, and had a long conversation with +the blacksmith, but though he was listened to with respect, it was not +easy to make much impression on an ignorant, hot-tempered man, who had +been greatly offended, and prided himself on showing that he would support +the quarrel of his wife and her relations against both squire and parson; +and though Mr. Mohun did persuade him to own that it was wrong to be +at war with the clergyman, the effect of his arguments was soon done +away with by the Gages, and no ground was gained.<br> +<br> +Mr. Gage’s farm was unhappily at no great distance from a dissenting +chapel and school, in the adjoining parish of Stoney Bridge, and thither +the farmer and blacksmith betook themselves, with many of the cottagers +of Broom Hill.<br> +<br> +One alone of the family of Tom Naylor refused to join him in his dissent, +and that was his sister, Mrs. Eden, a widow, with one little girl about +seven years old, who, though in great measure dependent upon him for +subsistence, knew her duty too well to desert the church, or to take +her child from school, and continued her even course, toiling hard for +bread, and uncomplaining, though often munch distressed. All the +rest of the parish who were not immediately under Mr. Mohun’s +influence were in a sad state of confusion.<br> +<br> +Jane was grieved at heart, but would not confess it, and Lilias was +so restless and unhappy, that Emily was quite weary of her lamentations. +Her best comforter was Miss Weston, who patiently listened to her, sighed +with her over the evident sorrow of the Rector, and the mischief in +the parish, and proved herself a true friend, by never attempting to +extenuate her fault.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VI - THE NEW FRIEND<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Maidens should be mild and meek,<br> +Swift to hear, and slow to speak.’<br> +<br> +Miss Weston had been much interested by what she heard respecting Mrs. +Eden, and gladly discovered that she was just the person who could assist +in some needlework which was required at Broom Hill. She asked +Lilias to tell her where to find her cottage, and Lily replied by an +offer to show her the way; Miss Weston hesitated, thinking that perhaps +in the present state of things Lily had rather not see her; but her +doubts were quickly removed by this speech, ‘I want to see her +particularly. I have been there three times without finding her. +I think I can set this terrible matter right by speaking to her.’<br> +<br> +Accordingly, Lilias and Phyllis set out with Alethea and Marianne one +afternoon to Mrs. Eden’s cottage, which stood at the edge of a +long field at the top of the hill. Very fast did Lily talk all +the way, but she grew more silent as she came to the cottage, and knocked +at the door; it was opened by Mrs. Eden herself, a pale, but rather +pretty young woman, with a remarkable gentle and pleasing face, and +a manner which was almost ladylike, although her hands were freshly +taken out of the wash-tub. She curtsied low, and coloured at the +sight of Lilias, set chairs for the visitors, and then returned to her +work.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Mrs. Eden,’ Lily began, intending to make her explanation, +but feeling confused, thought it better to wait till her friend’s +business was settled, and altered her speech into ‘Miss Weston +is come to speak to you about some work.’<br> +<br> +Mrs. Eden looked quite relieved, and Alethea proceeded to appoint the +day for her coming to Broom Hill, and arrange some small matters, during +which Lily not only settled what to say, but worked herself into a fit +of impatience at the length of Alethea’s instructions. When +they were concluded, however, and there was a pause, her words failed +her, and she wished that she was miles from the cottage, or that she +had never mentioned her intentions. At last she stammered out, +‘Oh! Mrs. Eden - I wanted to speak to you about - about Mr. Devereux +and your brother.’<br> +<br> +Mrs. Eden bent over her wash-tub, Miss Weston examined the shells on +the chimney-piece, Marianne and Phyllis listened with all their ears, +and poor Lily was exceedingly uncomfortable.<br> +<br> +‘I wished to tell you - I do not think - I do not mean - It was +not his saying. Indeed, he did not say those things about the +Gages.’<br> +<br> +‘I told my brother I did not think Mr. Devereux would go for to +say such a thing,’ said Mrs. Eden, as much confused as Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! that was right, Mrs. Eden. The mischief was all my +making and Jane’s. We said those foolish things, and they +were repeated as if it was he. Oh! do tell your brother so, Mrs. +Eden. It was very good of you to think it was not Cousin Robert. +Pray tell Tom Naylor. I cannot bear that things should go on in +this dreadful way.’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed, Miss, I am very sorry,’ said Mrs. Eden.<br> +<br> +‘But, Mrs Eden, I am sure that would set it right again,’ +said Lily, ‘are not you? I would do anything to have that +poor baby christened.’<br> +<br> +Lily’s confidence melted away as she saw that Mrs. Eden’s +tears were falling fast, and she ended with, ‘Only tell them, +and we shall see what will happen.’<br> +<br> +‘Very well, Miss Lilias,’ said Mrs. Eden. ‘I +am very sorry.’<br> +<br> +‘Let us hope that time and patience will set things right,’ +said Miss Weston, to relieve the embarrassment of both parties. +‘Your brother must soon see that Mr. Devereux only wishes to do +his duty.’<br> +<br> +Alethea skilfully covered Lily’s retreat, and the party took leave +of Mrs. Eden, and turned into their homeward path.<br> +<br> +Lily at first seemed disposed to be silent, and Miss Weston therefore +amused herself with listening to the chatter of the little girls as +they walked on before them.<br> +<br> +‘There are only thirty-six days to the holidays,’ said Phyllis; +‘Ada and I keep a paper in the nursery with the account of the +number of days. We shall be so glad when Claude, and Maurice, +and Redgie come home.’<br> +<br> +‘Are they not very boisterous?’<i> </i>said Marianne.<br> +<br> +‘Not Maurice,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘No, indeed,’ said Lily, ‘Maurice is like nobody else. +He takes up some scientific pursuit each time he comes home, and cares +for nothing else for some time, and then quite forgets it. He +is an odd-looking boy too, thick and sturdy, with light flaxen hair, +and dark, overhanging eyebrows, and he makes the most extraordinary +grimaces.’<br> +<br> +‘And Reginald?’ said Alethea.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Redgie is a noble-looking fellow. But just eleven, +and taller than Jane. His complexion so fair, yet fresh and boyish, +and his eyes that beautiful blue that Ada’s are - real blue. +Then his hair, in dark brown waves, with a rich auburn shine. +The old knights must have been just like Redgie. And Claude - +Oh! Miss Weston, have you ever seen Claude?’<br> +<br> +‘No, but I have seen your eldest brother.’<br> +<br> +‘William? Why, he has been in Canada these three years. +Where could you have seen him?’<br> +<br> +‘At Brighton, about four years ago.’<br> +<br> +‘Ah! the year before he went. I remember that his regiment +was there. Well, it is curious that you should know him; and did +you ever hear of Harry, the brother that we lost?’<br> +<br> +‘I remember Captain Mohun’s being called away to Oxford +by his illness,’ said Alethea.<br> +<br> +‘Ah, yes! William was the only one of us who was with him, +even papa was not there. His illness was so short.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Alethea, ‘I think it was on a Tuesday +that Captain Mohun left Brighton, and we saw his death in the paper +on Saturday.’<br> +<br> +‘William only arrived the evening that he died. Papa was +gone to Ireland to see about Cousin Rotherwood’s property. +Robert, not knowing that, wrote to him at Beechcroft; Eleanor forwarded +the letter without opening it, and so we knew nothing till Robert came +to tell us that all was over.’<br> +<br> +‘Without any preparation?’<br> +<br> +‘With none. Harry had left home about ten days before, quite +well, and looking so handsome. You know what a fine-looking person +William is. Well, Harry was very like him, only not so tall and +strong, with the same clear hazel eyes, and more pink in his cheeks +- fairer altogether. Then Harry wrote, saying that he had caught +one of his bad colds. We did not think much of it, for he was +always having coughs. We heard no more for a week, and then one +morning Eleanor was sent for out of the schoolroom, and there was Robert +come to tell us. Oh! it was such a thunderbolt. This was +what did the mischief. You know papa and mamma being from home +so long, the elder boys had no settled place for the holidays; sometimes +they stayed with one friend, sometimes with another, and so no one saw +enough of them to find out how delicate poor Harry really was. +I think papa had been anxious the only winter they were at home together, +and Harry had been talked to and advised to take care; but in the summer +and autumn he was well, and did not think about it. He went to +Oxford by the coach - it was a bitterly cold frosty day - there was +a poor woman outside, shivering and looking very ill, and Harry changed +places with her. He was horribly chilled, but thinking he had +only a common cold, he took no care. Robert, coming to Oxford +about a week after, found him very ill, and wrote to papa and William, +but William scarcely came in time. Harry just knew him, and that +was all. He could not speak, and died that night. Then William +stayed at Oxford to receive papa, and Robert came to tell us.’<br> +<br> +‘It must have been a terrible shock.’<br> +<br> +‘Such a loss - he was so very good and clever. Every one +looked up to him - William almost as much as the younger ones. +He never was in any scrape, had all sorts of prizes at Eton, besides +getting his scholarship before he was seventeen.’<br> +<br> +Whenever Lily could get Miss Weston alone, it was her way to talk in +this manner. She loved the sound of her own voice so well, that +she was never better satisfied than when engrossing the whole conversation. +Having nothing to talk of but her books, her poor people, and her family, +she gave her friend the full benefit of all she could say on each subject, +while Alethea had kindness enough to listen with real interest to her +long rambling discourses, well pleased to see her happy.<br> +<br> +The next time they met, Lilias told her all she knew or imagined respecting +Eleanor, and of her own debate with Claude, and ended, ‘Now, Miss +Weston, tell me your opinion, which would you choose for a sister, Eleanor +or Emily?’<br> +<br> +‘I have some experience of Miss Mohun’s delightful manners, +and none of Mrs. Hawkesworth’s, so I am no fair judge,’ +said Alethea.<br> +<br> +‘I really have done justice to Eleanor’s sterling goodness,’ +said Lily. ‘Now what should you think?’<br> +<br> +‘I can hardly imagine greater proofs of affection than Mrs. Hawkesworth +has given you,’ said Miss Weston, smiling.<br> +<br> +‘It was because it was her duty,’ said Lilias. ‘You +have only heard the facts, but you cannot judge of her ways and looks. +Now only think, when Frank came home, after seven years of perils by +field and flood - there she rose up to receive him as if he had been +Mr. Nobody making a morning call. And all the time before they +were married, I do believe she thought more of showing Emily how much +tea we were to use in a week than anything else.’<br> +<br> +‘Perhaps some people might have admired her self-command,’ +said Alethea.<br> +<br> +‘Self-command, the refuge of the insensible? And now, I +told you about dear Harry the other day. He was Eleanor’s +especial brother, yet his death never seemed to make any difference +to her. She scarcely cried: she heard our lessons as usual, talked +in her quiet voice - showed no tokens of feeling.’<br> +<br> +‘Was her health as good as before?’ asked Miss Weston.<br> +<br> +‘She was not ill,’ said Lily; ‘if she had, I should +have been satisfied. She certainly could not take long walks that +winter, but she never likes walking. People said she looked ill, +but I do not know.’<br> +<br> +‘Shall I tell you what I gather from your history?’<br> +<br> +‘Pray do.’<br> +<br> +‘Then do not think me very perverse, if I say that perhaps the +grief she then repressed may have weighed down her spirits ever since, +so that you can hardly remember any alteration.’<br> +<br> +‘That I cannot,’ said Lily. ‘She is always the +same, but then she ought to have been more cheerful before his death.’<br> +<br> +‘Did not you lose him soon after your mother?’ said Alethea.<br> +<br> +‘Two whole years,’ said Lily. ‘Oh! and aunt, +Robert too, and Frank went to India the beginning of that year; yes, +there was enough to depress her, but I never thought of grief going +on in that quiet dull way for so many years.’<br> +<br> +‘You would prefer one violent burst, and then forgetfulness?’<br> +<br> +‘Not exactly,’ said Lily; ‘but I should like a little +evidence of it. If it is really strong, it cannot be hid.’<br> +<br> +Little did Lily think of the grief that sat heavy upon the spirit of +Alethea, who answered - ‘Some people can do anything that they +consider their duty.’<br> +<br> +‘Duty: what, are you a duty lover?’ exclaimed Lilias. +‘I never suspected it, because you are not disagreeable.’<br> +<br> +‘Thank you,’ said Alethea, laughing, ‘your compliment +rather surprises me, for I thought you told me that your brother Claude +was on the duty side of the question.’<br> +<br> +‘He thinks he is,’ said Lily, ‘but love is his real +motive of action, as I can prove to you. Poor Claude had a very +bad illness when he was about three years old; and ever since he has +been liable to terrible headaches, and he is not at all strong. +Of course he cannot always study hard, and when first he went to school, +every one scolded him for being idle. I really believe he might +have done more, but then he was so clever that he could keep up without +any trouble, and, as Robert says, that was a great temptation; but still +papa was not satisfied, because he said Claude could do better. +So said Harry. Oh! you cannot think what a person Harry was, as +high-spirited as William, and as gentle as Claude; and in his kind way +he used to try hard to make Claude exert himself, but it never would +do - he was never in mischief, but he never took pains. Then Harry +died, and when Claude came home, and saw how changed things were, how +gray papa’s hair had turned, and how silent and melancholy William +had grown, he set himself with all his might to make up to papa as far +as he could. He thought only of doing what Harry would have wished, +and papa himself says that he has done wonders. I cannot see that +Henry himself could have been more than Claude is now; he has not spared +himself in the least, his tutor says, and he would have had the Newcastle +Scholarship last year, if he had not worked so hard that he brought +on one of his bad illnesses, and was obliged to come home. Now +I am sure that he has acted from love, for it was as much his duty to +take pains while Harry was alive as afterwards.’<br> +<br> +‘Certainly,’ said Miss Weston, ‘but what does he say +himself?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! he never will talk of himself,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Have you not overlooked one thing which may be the truth,’ +said Alethea, as if she was asking for information, ‘that duty +and love may be identical? Is not St. Paul’s description +of charity very like the duty to our neighbour?’<br> +<br> +‘The practice is the same, but not the theory,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Now, what is called duty, seems to me to be love doing unpleasant +work,’ said Miss Weston; ‘love disguised under another name, +when obliged to act in a way which seems, only seems, out of accordance +with its real title.’<br> +<br> +‘That is all very well for those who have love,’ said Lily. +‘Some have not who do their duty conscientiously - another word +which I hate, by the bye.’<br> +<br> +‘They have love in a rough coat, perhaps,’ said Alethea, +‘and I should expect it soon to put on a smoother one.’<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VII - SIR MAURICE<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Shall thought was his, in after time,<br> +Thus to be hitched into a rhyme;<br> +The simple sire could only boast<br> +That he was loyal to his cost,<br> +The banished race of kings revered,<br> +And lost his land.’<br> +<br> +The holidays arrived, and with them the three brothers, for during the +first few weeks of the Oxford vacation Claude accompanied Lord Rotherwood +on visits to some college friends, and only came home the same day as +the younger ones.<br> +<br> +Maurice did not long leave his sisters in doubt as to what was to be +his reigning taste, for as soon as dinner was over, he made Jane find +the volume of the Encyclopaedia containing Entomology, and with his +elbows on the table, proceeded to study it so intently, that the young +ladies gave up all hopes of rousing him from it. Claude threw +himself down on the sofa to enjoy the luxury of a desultory talk with +his sisters; and Reginald, his head on the floor, and his heels on a +chair, talked loud and fast enough for all three, with very little regard +to what the damsels might be saying.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Claude,’ said Lily, ‘you cannot think how much +we like Miss Weston, she lets us call her Alethea, and - ’<br> +<br> +Here came an interruption from Mr. Mohun, who perceiving the position +of Reginald’s dusty shoes, gave a loud ‘Ah - h!’ as +if he was scolding a dog, and ordered him to change them directly.<br> +<br> +‘Here, Phyl!’ said Reginald, kicking off his shoes, ‘just +step up and bring my shippers, Rachel will give them to you.’<br> +<br> +Away went Phyllis, well pleased to be her brother’s fag.<br> +<br> +‘Ah! Redgie does not know the misfortune that hangs over +him,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘What?’ said Reginald, ‘will not the Baron let Viper +come to the house?’<br> +<br> +‘Worse,’ said Emily, ‘Rachel is going away.’<br> +<br> +‘Rachel?’ cried Claude, starting up from the sofa.<br> +<br> +‘Rachel?’ said Maurice, without raising his eyes.<br> +<br> +‘Rachel! Rachel! botheration!’<i> </i>roared Reginald, +with a wondrous caper.<br> +<br> +‘Yes, Rachel,’ said Emily; ‘Rachel, who makes so much +of you, for no reason that I could ever discover, but because you are +the most troublesome.’<br> +<br> +‘You will never find any one to mend your jackets, and dress your +wounds like Rachel,’ said Lily, ‘and make a baby of you +instead of a great schoolboy. What will become of you, Redgie?’<br> +<br> +‘What will become of any of us?’ said Claude; ‘I thought +Rachel was the mainspring of the house.’<br> +<br> +‘Have you quarrelled with her, Emily?’ said Reginald.<br> +<br> +‘Nonsense,’ said Emily, ‘it is only that her brother +has lost his wife, and wants her to take care of his children.’<br> +<br> +‘Well,’ said Reginald, ‘her master has lost his wife, +and wants her to take care of his children.’<br> +<br> +‘I cannot think what I shall do,’ said Ada; ‘I cry +about it every night when I go to bed. What is to be done?’<br> +<br> +‘Send her brother a new wife,’ said Maurice.<br> +<br> +‘Send him Emily,’ said Reginald; ‘we could spare her +much better.’<br> +<br> +‘Only I don’t wish him joy,’ said Maurice.<br> +<br> +‘Well, I hope you wish me joy of my substitute,’ said Emily; +‘I do not think you would ever guess, but Lily, after being in +what Rachel calls quite a way, has persuaded every one to let us have +Esther Bateman.’<br> +<br> +‘What, the Baron?’ said Claude, in surprise.<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Lily, ‘is it not delightful? He +said at first, Emily was too inexperienced to teach a young servant; +but then we settled that Hannah should be upper servant, and Esther +will only have to wait upon Phyl and Ada. Then he said Faith Longley +was of a better set of people, but I am sure it would give one the nightmare +to see her lumbering about the house, and then he talked it over with +Robert and with Rachel.’<br> +<br> +‘And was not Rachel against it, or was she too kind to her young +ladies?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! she was cross when she talked it over with us,’ said +Lily; ‘but we coaxed her over, and she told the Baron it would +do very well.’<br> +<br> +‘And Robert?’<br> +<br> +‘He was quite with us, for he likes Esther as much as I do,’ +said lily.<br> +<br> +‘Now, Lily,’ said Jane, ‘how can you say he was quite +with you, when he said he thought it would be better if she was farther +from home, and under some older person?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, but he allowed that she would be much safer here than at +home,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘But I thought she used to be the head of all the ill behaviour +in school,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! that was in Eleanor’s time,’ said Lily; ‘there +was nothing to draw her out, she never was encouraged; but since she +has been in my class, and has found that her wishes to do right are +appreciated and met by affection, she has been quite a new creature.’<br> +<br> +‘Since she has been in MY class,’ Claude repeated.<br> +<br> +‘Well,’ said Lily, with a slight blush, ‘it is just +what Robert says. He told her, when he gave her her prize Bible +on Palm Sunday, that she had been going on very well, but she must take +great care when removed from those whose influence now guided her, and +who could he have meant but me? And now she is to go on with me +always. She will be quite one of the old sort of faithful servants, +who feel that they owe everything to their masters, and will it not +be pleasant to have so sweet and expressive a face about the house?’<br> +<br> +‘Do I know her face?’ said Claude. ‘Oh yes! +I do. She has black eyes, I think, and would be pretty if she +did not look pert.’<br> +<br> +‘You provoking Claude!’ cried Lily, ‘you are as bad +as Alethea, who never will say that Esther is the best person for us.’<br> +<br> +‘I was going to inquire for the all-for-love principle,’ +said Claude, ‘but I see it is in full force. And how are +the verses, Lily? Have you made a poem upon Michael Moone, or +Mohun, the actor, our uncle, whom I discovered for you in Pepys’s +Memoirs?’<br> +<br> +‘Nonsense,’ said Lily; ‘but I have been writing something +about Sir Maurice, which you shall hear whenever you are not in this +horrid temper.’<br> +<br> +The next afternoon, as soon as luncheon was over, Lily drew Claude out +to his favourite place under the plane-tree, where she proceeded to +inflict her poem upon his patient ears, while he lay flat upon the grass +looking up to the sky; Emily and Jane had promised to join them there +in process of time, and the four younger ones were, as usual, diverting +themselves among the farm buildings at the Old Court.<br> +<br> +Lily began: ‘I meant to have two parts about Sir Maurice going +out to fight when he was very young, and then about his brothers being +killed, and King Charles knighting him, and his betrothed, Phyllis Crossthwayte, +embroidering his black engrailed cross on his banner, and then the taking +the castle, and his being wounded, and escaping, and Phyllis not thinking +it right to leave her father; but I have not finished that, so now you +must hear about his return home.’<br> +<br> +<br> +‘A romaunt in six<i> </i>cantos, entitled Woe woe,<br> +By Miss Fanny F. known more commonly so,’<br> +<br> +<br> +muttered Claude to himself; but as Lily did not understand or know whence +his quotation came, it did not hurt her feelings, and she went merrily +on:-<br> +<br> +<br> +‘’Tis the twenty-ninth of merry May;<br> +Full cheerily shine the sunbeams to-day,<br> + Their joyous light revealing<br> +Full many a troop in garments gay,<br> +With cheerful steps who take their way<br> + By the green hill and shady lane,<br> +While merry bells are pealing;<br> +And soon in Beechcroft’s holy fane<br> +The villagers are kneeling.<br> +Dreary and mournful seems the shrine<br> +Where sound their prayers and hymns divine;<br> + For every mystic ornament<br> + By the rude spoiler’s hand is rent;<br> + Scarce is its ancient beauty traced<br> + In wood-work broken and defaced,<br> + Reft of each quaint device and rare,<br> + Of foliage rich and mouldings fair;<br> + Yet happy is each spirit there;<br> + The simple peasantry rejoice<br> + To see the altar decked with care,<br> + To hear their ancient Pastor’s +voice<br> + Reciting o’er each well-known prayer,<br> + To view again his robe of white,<br> + And hear the services aright;<br> + Once more to chant their glorious Creed,<br> + And thankful own their nation freed<br> + From those who cast her glories down,<br> + And rent away her Cross and Crown.<br> + A stranger knelt among the crowd,<br> + And joined his voice in praises loud,<br> + And when the holy rites had ceased,<br> + Held converse with the aged Priest,<br> + Then turned to join the village feast,<br> + Where, raised on the hill’s summit green,<br> + The Maypole’s flowery wreaths were seen;<br> + Beneath the venerable yew<br> + The stranger stood the sports to view,<br> + Unmarked by all, for each was bent<br> + On his own scheme of merriment,<br> + On talking, laughing, dancing, playing -<br> + There never was so blithe a Maying.<br> + So thought each laughing maiden gay,<br> + Whose head-gear bore the oaken spray;<br> + So thought that hand of shouting boys,<br> + Unchecked in their best joy - in noise;<br> + But gray-haired men, whose deep-marked scars<br> + Bore token of the civil wars,<br> + And hooded dames in cloaks of red,<br> + At the blithe youngsters shook the head,<br> + Gathering in eager clusters told<br> + How joyous were the days of old,<br> + When Beechcroft’s lords, those Barons bold,<br> + Came forth to join their vassals’ sport,<br> + And here to hold their rustic court,<br> + Throned in the ancient chair you see<br> + Beneath our noble old yew tree.<br> + Alas! all empty stands the throne,<br> + Reserved for Mohun’s race alone,<br> + And the old folks can only tell<br> + Of the good lords who ruled so well.<br> + “Ah! I bethink me of the time,<br> + The last before those years of crime,<br> + When with his open hearty cheer,<br> + The good old squire was sitting here.”<br> + “’Twas then,” another voice replied,<br> + “That brave young Master Maurice tried<br> + To pitch the ball with Andrew Grey -<br> + We ne’er shall see so blithe a day -<br> + All the young squires have long +been dead.”<br> + “No, Master Webb,” quoth Andrew Grey,<br> + “Young Master Maurice safely +fled,<br> + At least so all the Greenwoods say,<br> + And Walter Greenwood with him went<br> + To share his master’s banishment;<br> + And now King Charles is ruling here,<br> + Our own good landlord may be near.”<br> + “Small hope of that,” the old man said,<br> + And sadly shook his hoary head,<br> + “Sir Maurice died beyond the sea,<br> + Last of his noble line was he.”<br> + “Look, Master Webb!” he turned, and there<br> + The stranger sat in Mohun’s chair;<br> + At ease he sat, and smiled to scan<br> + The face of each astonished man;<br> + Then on the ground he laid aside<br> + His plumed hat and mantle wide.<br> + One moment, Andrew deemed he knew<br> + Those glancing eyes of hazel hue,<br> + But the sunk cheek, the figure spare,<br> + The lines of white that streak the hair -<br> + How can this he the stripling gay,<br> + Erst, victor in the sports of May?<br> + Full twenty years of cheerful toil,<br> + And labour on his native soil,<br> + On Andrew’s head had left no trace -<br> + The summer’s sun, the winter’s +storm,<br> + They had but ruddier made his face,<br> + More hard his hand, more strong +his form.<br> + Forth from the wandering, whispering crowd,<br> + A farmer came, and spoke aloud,<br> + With rustic bow and welcome fair,<br> + But with a hesitating air -<br> + He told how custom well preserved<br> + The throne for Mohun’s race reserved;<br> + The stranger laughed, “What, Harrington,<br> + Hast thou forgot thy landlord’s son?”<br> + Loud was the cry, and blithe the shout,<br> + On Beechcroft hill that now rang out,<br> + And still remembered is the day,<br> + That merry twenty-ninth of May,<br> + When to his father’s home returned<br> + That knight, whose glory well was earned.<br> + In poverty and banishment,<br> + His prime of manhood had been spent,<br> + A wanderer, scorned by Charles’s court,<br> + One faithful servant his support.<br> + And now, he seeks his home forlorn,<br> + Broken in health, with sorrow worn.<br> + And two short years just passed away,<br> + Between that joyous meeting-day,<br> + And the sad eve when Beechcroft’s bell<br> + Tolled forth Sir Maurice’s funeral knell;<br> +And Phyllis, whose love was so constant and tried,<br> +Was a widow the year she was Maurice’s bride;<br> +Yet the path of the noble and true-hearted knight,<br> +Was brilliant with honour, and glory, and light,<br> +And still his descendants shall sing of the fame<br> +Of Sir Maurice de Mohun, the pride of his name.’<br> +<br> +<br> +‘It is a pity they should sing of it in such lines as those last +four,’ said Claude. ‘Let me see, I like your bringing +in the real names, though I doubt whether any but Greenwood could have +been found here.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! here come Emily and Jane,’ said Lily, ‘let me +put it away.’<br> +<br> +‘You are very much afraid of Jane,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Yes, Jane has no feeling for poetry,’ said Lily, with simplicity, +which made her brother smile.<br> +<br> +Jane and Emily now came up, the former with her work, the latter with +a camp-stool and a book. ‘I wonder,’ said she, ‘where +those boys are! By the bye, what character did they bring home +from school?’<br> +<br> +‘The same as usual,’ said Claude. ‘Maurice’s +mind only half given to his work, and Redgie’s whole mind to his +play.’<br> +<br> +‘Maurice’s talent does not lie in the direction of Latin +and Greek,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Jane, ‘it is nonsense to make him learn +it, and so he says.’<br> +<br> +‘Perhaps he would say the same of mathematics and mechanics, if +as great a point were made of them,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘I think not,’ said Claude; ‘he has more notion of +them than of Latin verses.’<br> +<br> +‘Then you are on my side,’ said Jane, triumphantly.<br> +<br> +‘Did I say so?’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Why not?’ said Jane. ‘What is the use of his +knowing those stupid languages? I am sure it is wasting time not +to improve such a genius as he has for mechanics and natural history. +Now, Claude, I wish you would answer.’<br> +<br> +‘I was waiting till you had done,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Why do you not think it nonsense?’ persisted Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Because I respect my father’s opinion,’ said Claude, +letting himself fall on the grass, as if he had done with the subject.<br> +<br> +‘Pooh!’ said Jane, ‘that sounds like a good little +boy of five years old!’<br> +<br> +‘Very likely,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘But you have some opinion of your own,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Certainly.’<br> +<br> +‘Then I wish you would give it,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Come, Emily,’ said Claude, ‘have you brought anything +to read?’<br> +<br> +‘But your opinion, Claude,’ said Jane. ‘I am +sure you think with me, only you are too grand, and too correct to say +so.’<br> +<br> +Claude made no answer, but Jane saw she was wrong by his countenance; +before she could say anything more, however, they were interrupted by +a great outcry from the Old Court regions.<br> +<br> +‘Oh,’ said Emily, ‘I thought it was a long time since +we had heard anything of those uproarious mortals.’<br> +<br> +‘I hope there is nothing the matter,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Oh no,’ said Jane, ‘I hear Redgie’s laugh.’<br> +<br> +‘Aye, but among that party,’ said Emily, ‘Redgie’s +laugh is not always a proof of peace: they are too much in the habit +of acting the boys and the frogs.’<br> +<br> +‘We were better off,’ said Lily, ‘with the gentle +Claude, as Miss Middleton used to call him.’<br> +<br> +‘Miss Molly, as William used to call him with more propriety,’ +said Claude, ‘not half so well worth playing with as such a fellow +as Redgie.’<br> +<br> +‘Not even for young ladies?’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘No, Phyllis and Ada are much the better for being teased,’ +said Claude. ‘I am convinced that I never did my duty by +you in that respect.’<br> +<br> +‘There were others to do it for you,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Harry never teased,’ said Emily, ‘and William scorned +us.’<br> +<br> +‘His teasing was all performed upon Claude,’ said Lily, +‘and a great shame it was.’<br> +<br> +‘Not at all,’ said Claude, ‘only an injudicious attempt +to put a little life into a tortoise.’<br> +<br> +‘A bad comparison,’ said Lily; ‘but what is all this? +Here come the children in dismay! What is the matter, my dear +child?’<br> +<br> +This was addressed to Phyllis, who was the first to come up at full +speed, sobbing, and out of breath, ‘Oh, the dragon-fly! +Oh, do not let him kill it!’<br> +<br> +‘The dragon-fly, the poor dear blue dragon-fly!’ screamed +Adeline, hiding her face in Emily’s lap, ‘Oh, do not let +him kill it! he is holding it; he is hurting it! Oh, tell him +not!’<br> +<br> +‘I caught it,’ said Phyllis, ‘but not to have it killed. +Oh, take it away!’<br> +<br> +‘A fine rout, indeed, you chicken,’ said Reginald; ‘I +know a fellow who ate up five horse-stingers one morning before breakfast.’<br> +<br> +‘Stingers!’ said Phyllis, ‘they do not sting anything, +pretty creatures.’<br> +<br> +‘I told you I would catch the old pony and put it on him to try,’ +said Reginald.<br> +<br> +In the meantime, Maurice came up at his leisure, holding his prize by +the wings. ‘Look what a beautiful Libellulla Puella,’ +said he to Jane.<br> +<br> +‘A demoiselle dragon-fly,’ said Lily; ‘what a beauty! +what are you going to do with it?’<br> +<br> +‘Put it into my museum,’ said Maurice. ‘Here, +Jane, put it under this flower-pot, and take care of it, while I fetch +something to kill it with.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, Maurice, do not!’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘One good squeeze,’ said Reginald. ‘I will do +it.’<br> +<br> +‘How came you be so cruel?’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘No, a squeeze will not do,’ said Maurice; ‘it would +spoil its beauty; I must put it ever the fumes of carbonic acid.’<br> +<br> +‘Maurice, you really must not,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Now do not, dear Maurice,’ said Ada, ‘there’s +a dear boy; I will give you such a kiss.’<br> +<br> +‘Nonsense; get out of the way,’ said Maurice, turning away.<br> +<br> +‘Now, Maurice, this is most horrid cruelty,’ said Lily; +‘what right have you to shorten the brief, happy life which - +’<br> +<br> +‘Well,’ interrupted Maurice, ‘if you make such a fuss +about killing it, I will stick a pin through it into a cork, and let +it shift for itself.’<br> +<br> +Poor Phyllis ran away to the other end of the garden, sat down and sobbed, +Ada screamed and argued, Emily complained, Lily exhorted Claude to interfere, +while Reginald stood laughing.<br> +<br> +‘Such useless cruelty,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Useless!’<i> </i>said Maurice. ‘Pray how is +any one to make a collection of natural objects without killing things?’<br> +<br> +‘I do not see the use of a collection,’ said Lily; ‘you +can examine the creatures and let them go.’<br> +<br> +‘Such a young lady’s tender-hearted notion,’ said +Reginald.<br> +<br> +‘Who ever heard of a man of science managing in such a ridiculous +way?’<br> +<br> +‘Man of science!’<i> </i>exclaimed Lily, ‘when he +will have forgotten by next Christmas that insects ever existed.’<br> +<br> +It was not convenient to hear this speech, so Maurice turned an empty +flower-pot over his prisoner, and left it in Jane’s care while +he went to fetch the means of destruction, probably choosing the lawn +for the place of execution, in order to show his contempt for his sisters.<br> +<br> +‘Fair damsel in boddice blue,’ said Lily, peeping in at +the hole at the top of the flower-pot, ‘I wish I could avert your +melancholy fate. I am very sorry for you, but I cannot help it.’<br> +<br> +‘You might help it now, at any rate,’ muttered Claude.<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Lily, ‘I know Monsieur Maurice too well +to arouse his wrath so justly. If you choose to release the pretty +creature, I shall be charmed.’<br> +<br> +‘You forget that I am in charge,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘There is a carriage coming to the front gate,’ cried Ada. +‘Emily, may I go into the drawing-room? Oh, Jenny, will +you undo my brown holland apron?’<br> +<br> +‘That is right, little mincing Miss,’ said Reginald, with +a low bow; ‘how fine we are to-day.’<br> +<br> +‘How visitors break into the afternoon,’ said Emily, with +a languid turn of her head.<br> +<br> +‘Jenny, brownie,’ called Maurice from his bedroom window, +‘I want the sulphuric acid.’<br> +<br> +Jane sprang up and ran into the house, though her sisters called after +her, that she would come full upon the company in the hall.<br> +<br> +‘They shall not catch me here,’ cried Reginald, rushing +off into the shrubbery.<br> +<br> +‘Are you coming in, Claude?’<i> </i>said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Send Ada to call me, if there is any one worth seeing,’ +said Claude<br> +<br> +‘They will see you from the window,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Claude, ‘no one ever found me out last +summer, under these friendly branches.’<br> +<br> +The old butler, Joseph, now showed himself on the terrace; and the young +ladies, knowing that he had no intention of crossing the lawn, hastened +to learn from him who their visitors were, and entered the house. +Just then Phyllis came running back from the kitchen garden, and without +looking round, or perceiving Claude, she took up the flower-pot and +released the captive, which, unconscious of its peril, rested on a blade +of grass, vibrating its gauzy wings and rejoicing in the restored sunbeams.<br> +<br> +‘Fly away, fly away, you pretty creature,’ said Phyllis; +‘make haste, or Maurice will come and catch you again. I +wish I had not given you such a fright. I thought you would have +been killed, and a pin stuck all through that pretty blue and black +body of yours. Oh! that would be dreadful. Make haste and +go away! I would not have caught you, you beautiful thing, if +I had known what he wanted to do. I thought he only wanted to +look at your beautiful body, like a little bit of the sky come down +to look at the flowers, and your delicate wings, and great shining eyes. +Oh! I am very glad God made you so beautiful. Oh! there is Maurice +coming. I must blow upon you to make you go. Oh, that is +right - up quite high in the air - quite safe,’ and she clapped +her hands as the dragon-fly rose in the air, and disappeared behind +the laurels, just as Maurice and Reginald emerged from the shrubbery, +the former with a bottle in his hand.<br> +<br> +‘Well, where is the Libellulla?’<i> </i>said he.<br> +<br> +‘The dragon-fly?’ said Phyllis. ‘I let it out.’<br> +<br> +‘Sold, Maurice!’ cried Reginald, laughing at his brother’s +disaster.<br> +<br> +‘Upon my word, Phyl, you are very kind!’ said Maurice, angrily. +‘If I had known you were such an ill-natured crab - ’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Maurice dear, don’t say so,’ exclaimed +Phyllis. ‘I thought I might let it out because I caught +it myself; and I told you I did not catch it for you to kill; Maurice, +indeed, I am sorry I vexed you.’<br> +<br> +‘What else did you do it for?’ said Maurice. ‘It +is horrid not to be able to leave one’s things a minute - ’<br> +<br> +‘But I did not know the dragon-fly belonged to you, Maurice,’ +said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘That is a puzzler, Mohun senior,’ said Reginald.<br> +<br> +‘Now, Redgie, do get Maurice to leave off being angry with me,’ +implored his sister.<br> +<br> +‘I will leave off being angry,’ said Maurice, seeing his +advantage, ‘if you will promise never to let out my things again.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not think I can promise,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘O yes, you can,’ said Reginald, ‘you know they are +not his.’<br> +<br> +‘Promise you will not let out any insects I may get,’ said +Maurice, ‘or I shall say you are as cross as two sticks.’<br> +<br> +‘I’ll tell you what, Maurice,’ said Phyllis, ‘I +do wish you would not make me promise, for I do not think I <i>can </i>keep +it, for I cannot bear to see the beautiful live things killed.’<br> +<br> +‘Nonsense,’ said Maurice, fiercely, ‘I am very angry +indeed, you naughty child; promise - ’<br> +<br> +‘I cannot,’ said Phyllis, beginning to cry.<br> +<br> +‘Then,’ said Maurice, ‘I will not speak to you all +day.’<br> +<br> +‘No, no,’ shouted Reginald, ‘we will only treat her +like the horse-stinger; you wanted a puella, Maurice - here is one for +you, here, give her a dose of the turpentine.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Maurice, advancing with his bottle; ‘and +do you take the poker down to Naylor’s to be sharpened, it will +just do to stick through her back. Oh! no, not Naylor’s +- the girls have made a hash there, as they do everything else; but +we will settle her before they come out again.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis screamed and begged for mercy - her last ally had deserted her.<br> +<br> +‘Promise!’ cried the boys.<br> +<br> +‘Oh, don’t!’ was all her answer.<br> +<br> +Reginald caught her and held her fast, Maurice advanced upon her, she +struggled, and gave a scream of real terror. The matter was no +joke to any one but Reginald, for Maurice was very angry and really +meant to frighten her.<br> +<br> +‘Hands off, boys, I will not have her bullied,’ said Claude, +half rising.<br> +<br> +Maurice gave a violent start, Reginald looked round laughing, and exclaimed, +‘Who would have thought of Claude sneaking there?’ and Phyllis +ran to the protecting arm, which he stretched out. To her great +surprise, he drew her to him, and kissed her forehead, saying, ‘Well +done, Phyl!’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, I knew he was not going to hurt me,’ said Phyllis, +still panting from the struggle.<br> +<br> +‘To be sure not,’ said Maurice, ‘I only meant to have +a little fun.’<br> +<br> +Claude, with his arm still round his sister’s waist, gave Maurice +a look, expressing, ‘Is that the truth?’<i> </i>and Reginald +tumbled head over heels, exclaiming, ‘I would not have been Phyl +just them.’<br> +<br> +Ada now came running up to them, saying, ‘Maurice and Redgie, +you are to come in; Mr. and Mrs. Burnet heard your voices, and begged +to see you, because they never saw you last holidays.’<br> +<br> +‘More’s the pity they should see us now,’ said Maurice.<br> +<br> +‘I shall not go,’ said Reginald.<br> +<br> +‘Papa is there, and he sent for you,’ said Ada.<br> +<br> +‘Plague,’ was the answer.<br> +<br> +‘See what you get by making such a row,’ said Claude. +‘If you had been as orderly members of society as I am - ’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, but Claude,’ said Ada, ‘papa told me to see if +I could find you. Dear Claude, I wish,’ she proceeded, taking +his hand, and looking engaging, ‘I wish you would put your arm +round me as you do round Phyl.’<br> +<br> +‘You are not worth it, Ada,’ said Reginald, and Claude did +not contradict him.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VIII - THE BROTHERS<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘But smiled to hear the creatures he had known<br> +So long were now in class and order shown -<br> +Genus and species. “Is it meet,” said he,<br> +“This creature’s name should one so sounding be -<br> +‘Tis but a fly, though first-born of the spring,<br> +Bombylius Majus, dost thou call the thing?”<br> +<br> +It was not till Sunday, that Lily’s eager wish was fulfilled, +of introducing her friend and her brothers; but, as she might have foreseen, +their first meeting did not make the perfections of either party very +clear to the other. Claude never spoke to strangers more than +he could help, Maurice and Reginald were in the room only a short time; +so that the result of Miss Weston’s observations, when communicated +in reply to Lily’s eager inquiries, was only that Claude was very +like his father and eldest brother, Reginald very handsome, and Maurice +looked like a very funny fellow.<br> +<br> +On Monday, Reginald and Maurice were required to learn what they had +always refused to acknowledge, that the holidays were not intended to +be spent in idleness. A portion of each morning was to be devoted +to study, Claude having undertaken the task of tutor - and hard work +he found it; and much did Lily pity him, when, as not unfrequently happened, +the summons to the children’s dinner would bring him from the +study, looking thoroughly fagged - Maurice in so sulky a mood that he +would hardly deign to open his lips - Reginald talking fast enough, +indeed, but only to murmur at his duties in terms, which, though they +made every one laugh, were painful to hear. Then Claude would +take his brothers back to the study, and not appear for an hour or more, +and when he did come forth, it was with a bad headache. Sometimes, +as if to show that it was only through their own fault that their tasks +were wearisome, one or both boys would finish quite early, when Reginald +would betake himself to the schoolroom and employ his idle time in making +it nearly impossible for Ada and Phyllis to learn, by talking, laughing, +teasing the canary, overturning everything in pursuing wasps, making +Emily fretful by his disobedience, and then laughing at her, and, in +short, proving his right to the title he had given himself at the end +of the only letter he had written since he first went to school, and +which he had subscribed, ‘Your affectionate bother, R. Mohun.’ +So that, for their own sake, all would have preferred the inattentive +mornings.<br> +<br> +Lily often tried to persuade Claude to allow her to tell her father +how troublesome the boys were, but never with any effect. He once +took up a book he had been using with them, and pointing to the name +in the first page, in writing, which Lily knew full well, ‘Henry +Mohun,’ she perceived that he meant to convince her that it was +useless to try to dissuade him, as he thought the patience and forbearance +his brother had shown to him must be repaid by his not shrinking from +the task he had imposed upon himself with his young brothers, though +he was often obliged to sit up part of the night to pursue his own studies.<br> +<br> +If Claude had rather injudiciously talked too much to Lilias of ‘her +principle,’ and thus kept it alive in her mind, yet his example +might have made its fallacy evident. She believed that what she +called love had been the turning point in his character, that it had +been his earnest desire to follow in Henry’s steps, and so try +to comfort his father for his loss, that had roused him from his indolence; +but she was beginning to see that nothing but a sense of duty could +have kept up the power of that first impulse for six years. Lily +began to enter a little into his principle, and many things that occurred +during these holidays made her mistrust her former judgment. She +saw that without the unvarying principle of right and wrong, fraternal +love itself would fail in outward acts and words. Forbearance, +though undeniably a branch of love, could not exist without constant +remembrance of duty; and which of them did not sometimes fail in kindness, +meekness, and patience? Did Emily show that softness, which was +her most agreeable characteristic, in her whining reproofs - in her +complaints that ‘no one listened to a word she said’ - in +her refusal to do justice even to those who had vainly been seeking +for peace? Did Lily herself show any of her much valued love, +by the sharp manner in which she scolded the boys for roughness towards +herself? or for language often used by them on purpose to make her displeasure +a matter of amusement? She saw that her want of command of temper +was a failure both in love and duty, and when irritated, the thought +of duty came sooner to her aid than the feeling of love.<br> +<br> +And Maurice and Reginald were really very provoking. Maurice loved +no amusement better than teasing his sisters, and this was almost the +only thing in which Reginald agreed with him. Reginald was affectionate, +but too reckless and violent not to be very troublesome, and he too +often flew into a passion if Maurice attempted to laugh at him; the +little girls were often frightened and made unhappy; Phyllis would scream +and roar, and Ada would come sobbing to Emily, to be comforted after +some rudeness of Reginald’s. It was not very often that +quarrels went so far, but many a time in thought, word, and deed was +the rule of love transgressed, and more than once did Emily feel ready +to give up all her dignity, to have Eleanor’s hand over the boys +once more. Claude, finding that he could do much to prevent mischief, +took care not to leave the two boys long together with the elder girls. +They were far more inoffensive when separate, as Maurice never practised +his tormenting tricks when no one was present to laugh with him, and +Reginald was very kind to Phyllis and Ada, although somewhat rude.<br> +<br> +It was a day or two after they returned that Phyllis was leaning on +the window-sill in the drawing-room, watching a passing shower, and +admiring the soft bright tints of a rainbow upon the dark gray mass +of cloud. ‘I do set my bow in the cloud,’ repeated +she to herself over and over again, until Adeline entering the room, +she eagerly exclaimed, ‘Oh Ada, come and look at this beautiful +rainbow, green, and pink, and purple. A double one, with so many +stripes, Ada. See, there is a little bit more green.’<br> +<br> +‘There is no green in a rainbow,’ said Ada.<br> +<br> +‘But look, Ada, that is green.’<br> +<br> +‘It is not real green. Blue, red, and yellow are the pragmatic +colours,’ said Ada, with a most triumphant air. ‘Now +are not they, Maurice?’<i> </i>said she, turning to her brother, +who was, as usual, deep in entomology.<br> +<br> +‘Pragmatic, you foolish child,’ said he. ‘Prismatic +you mean. I am glad you remember what I tell you, however; I think +I might teach you some science in time. You are right in saying +that blue, red, and yellow are the prismatic colours. Now do you +know what causes a rainbow?’<br> +<br> +‘It is to show there is never to be another flood,’ said +Phyllis, gravely.<br> +<br> +‘Oh, I did not mean that,’ said Maurice, addressing himself +to Ada, whose love of hard words made him deem her a promising pupil, +and whom he could lecture without interruption. ‘The rainbow +is caused by - ’<br> +<br> +‘But, Maurice!’ exclaimed Phyllis, remaining with mouth +wide open.<br> +<br> +‘The rainbow is occasioned by the refraction of the rays of the +sun in the drops of water of which a cloud is composed.’<br> +<br> +‘But, Maurice!’ again said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘Well, what do you keep on “but, Mauricing,” about?’<br> +<br> +‘But, Maurice, I thought it said, “I do set my bow in the +cloud.” Is not that right? I will look.’<br> +<br> +‘I know that, but I know the iris, or rainbow, is a natural phenomenon +occasioned by the refraction.’<br> +<br> +‘But, Maurice, I can’t bear you to say that;’ and +poor Phyllis sat down and began to cry.<br> +<br> +Ada interfered. ‘Why, Maurice, you believe the Bible, don’t +you?’<br> +<br> +This last speech was heard by Lilias, who just now entered the room, +and greatly surprised her. ‘What can you be talking of?’ +said she.<br> +<br> +‘Only some nonsense of the children’s,’ said Maurice, +shortly.<br> +<br> +‘But only hear what he says,’ cried Ada. ‘He +says the rainbow was not put there to show there is never to be another +flood!’<br> +<br> +‘Now, Lily,’ said Maurice, ‘I do not think there is +much use in talking to you, but I wish you to understand that all I +said was, that the rainbow, or iris, is a natural phenomenon occasioned +by the refraction of the solar - ’<br> +<br> +‘You will certainly bewilder yourself into something dreadful +with that horrid science,’ said Lily. ‘What is the +matter with Phyl?’<br> +<br> +‘Only crying because of what I said,’ answered Maurice. +‘So childish, and you are just as bad.’<br> +<br> +‘But do you mean to say,’ exclaimed Lily, ‘that you +set this human theory above the authority of the Bible?’<br> +<br> +‘It is common sense,’ said Maurice; ‘I could make +a rainbow any day.’<br> +<br> +Whereupon Phyllis cried the more, and Lily looked infinitely shocked. +‘This is philosophy and vain deceit,’ said she; ‘the +very thing that tends to infidelity.’<br> +<br> +‘I can’t help it - it is universally allowed,’ said +the boy doggedly.<br> +<br> +It was fortunate that the next person who entered the room was Claude, +and all at once he was appealed to by the four disputants, Lily the +loudest and most vehement. ‘Claude, listen to him, and tell +him to throw away these hateful new lights, which lead to everything +that is shocking!’<br> +<br> +‘Listen to him, with three ladies talking at once?’ said +Claude. ‘No, not Phyl - her tears only are eloquent; but +it is a mighty war about the token of peace and <i>love, </i>Lily.’<br> +<br> +‘The love would be in driving these horrible philosophical speculations +out of Maurice’s mind,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘No one can ever drive out the truth,’ said Maurice, with +provoking coolness. ‘Don’t let her scratch out my +eyes, Claude.’<br> +<br> +‘I am not so sure of that maxim,’ said Claude. ‘Truth +is chiefly injured - I mean, her force weakened, by her own supporters.’<br> +<br> +‘Then you agree with me,’ said Maurice, ‘as, in fact, +every rational person must.’<br> +<br> +‘Then you are with me,’ said Lily, in the same breath; ‘and +you will convince Maurice of the danger of this nonsense.’<br> +<br> +‘Umph,’ sighed Claude, throwing himself into his father’s +arm-chair, ‘’tis a Herculean labour! It seems I agree +with you both.’<br> +<br> +‘Why, every Christian must be with me, who has not lost his way +in a mist of his own raising,’ said Lilias.<br> +<br> +‘Do you mean to say,’ said Maurice, ‘that these colours +are not produced by refraction? Look at them on those prisms;’ +and he pointed to an old-fashioned lustre on the chimney-piece. +‘I hope this is not a part of the Christian faith.’<br> +<br> +‘Take care, Maurice,’ and Claude’s eyes were bent +upon him in a manner that made him shrink. And he added, ‘Of +course I do believe that chapter about Noah. I only meant that +the immediate cause of the rainbow is the refraction of light. +I did not mean to be irreverent, only the girls took me up in such a +way.’<br> +<br> +‘And I know well enough that you can make those colours by light +on drops of water,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘So you agreed all the time,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘But,’ added Lily, ‘I never liked to know it; for +it always seemed to be explaining away the Bible, and I cannot bear +not to regard that lovely bow as a constant miracle.’<br> +<br> +‘You will remember,’ said Claude, ‘that some commentators +say it should be, “I <i>have </i>set my bow in the cloud,” +which would make what already existed become a token for the future.<br> +<br> +‘I don’t like that explanation,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Others say,’ added Claude, ‘that there might have +been no rain at all till the windows of heaven were opened at the flood, +and, in that case, the first recurrence of rain must have greatly alarmed +Noah’s family, if they had not been supported and cheered by the +sight of the rainbow.’<br> +<br> +‘That is reasonable,’ said Maurice.<br> +<br> +‘I hate reason applied to revelation,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘It is a happier state of mind which does not seek to apply it,’ +said Claude, looking at Phyllis, who had dried her tears, and stood +in the window gazing at him, in the happy certainty that he was setting +all right. Maurice respected Claude for his science as much as +his character, and did not make game of this observation as he would +if it had been made by one of his sisters, but he looked at him with +an odd expression of perplexity. ‘You do not think ignorant +credulity better than reasonable belief?’ said he at length.<br> +<br> +‘It is not I only who think most highly of child-like unquestioning +faith, Maurice,’ said Claude - ‘faith, that is based upon +love and reverence,’ added he to Lily. ‘But come, +the shower is over, and philosophers, or no philosophers, I invite you +to walk in the wood.’<br> +<br> +‘Aye,’ said Maurice, ‘I daresay I can find some of +the Arachne species there. By the bye, Claude, do you think papa +would let me have a piece of plate-glass, eighteen by twenty, to cover +my case of insects?’<br> +<br> +‘Ask, and you will discover,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +Accordingly, Maurice began the next morning at breakfast, ‘Papa, +may I have a piece of plate-glass, eighteen by - ?’<br> +<br> +But no one heard, for Emily was at the moment saying, ‘The Westons +are to dine here to-day.’<br> +<br> +Claude and Maurice both looked blank.<br> +<br> +‘I persuaded papa to ask the Westons,’ said Lily, ‘because +I am determined that Claude shall like Alethea.’<br> +<br> +‘You must expect that I shall not, you have given me so many orders +on the subject,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Take care it has not the same effect as to tell Maurice to like +a book,’ said Emily; ‘nothing makes his aversion so certain.’<br> +<br> +‘Except when he takes it up by mistake, and forgets that it has +been recommended to him,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Take care, Redgie, with your knife; don’t put out my eyes +in your ardour against that wretched wasp. Wat Greenwood may well +say “there is a terrible sight of waspses this year.”’<br> +<br> +‘I killed twenty-nine yesterday,’ said Reginald.<br> +<br> +‘And I will tell you what I saw,’ said Phyllis; ‘I +was picking up apples, and the wasps were flying all round, and there +came a hornet.’<br> +<br> +‘Vespa Crabro!’<i> </i>cried Maurice; ‘oh, I must +have one!’<br> +<br> +‘Well, what of the hornet?’ said Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘I’ll tell you what,’ resumed Phyllis, ‘he saw +a wasp flying, and so he went up in the air, and pounced on the poor +wasp as the hawk did on Jane’s bantam. So then he hung himself +up to the branch of a tree by one of his legs, and held the wasp with +the other five, and began to pack it up. First he bit off the +yellow tail, then the legs, and threw them away, and then there was +nothing left but the head, and so he flew away with it to his nest.’<br> +<br> +‘Which way did he go?’<i> </i>said Maurice.<br> +<br> +‘To the Old Court,’ answered Phyllis; ‘I think the +nest is in the roof of the old cow-house, for they were flying in and +out there yesterday, and one was eating out the wood from the old rails.’<br> +<br> +‘Well,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘you must show me a hornet +hawking for wasps before the nest is taken, Phyllis; I suppose you have +seen the wasps catching flies?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh yes, papa! but they pack them up quite differently. +They do not hang by one leg, but they sit down quite comfortably on +a branch while they bite off the wings and legs.’<br> +<br> +‘There, Maurice,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘I had rather hear +of one such well-observed fact than of a dozen of your hard names and +impaled insects.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis looked quite radiant with delight at his approbation.<br> +<br> +‘But, papa,’ said Maurice, ‘may I have a piece of +plate-glass, eighteen by twenty?’<br> +<br> +‘When you observe facts in natural history, perhaps I may say +something to your entomology,’ said Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘But, papa, all my insects will be spoilt if I may not have a +piece of glass, eighteen by - ’<br> +<br> +He was interrupted by the arrival of the post-bag, which Jane, as usual, +opened. ‘A letter from Rotherwood,’ said she; ‘I +hope he is coming at last.’<br> +<br> +‘He is,’ said Claude, reading the letter, ‘but only +from Saturday till Wednesday.’<br> +<br> +‘He never gave us so little of his good company as he has this +summer,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘You will have them all in the autumn, to comfort you,’ +said Claude, ‘for he hereby announces the marvellous fact, that +the Marchioness sends him to see if the castle is fit to receive her.’<br> +<br> +‘Are you sure he is not only believing what he wishes?’ +said Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘I think he will gain his point at last,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘How stupid of him to stay no longer!’ said Reginald.<br> +<br> +‘I think he has some scheme for this vacation,’ said Claude, +‘and I suppose he means to crowd all the Beechcroft diversions +of a whole summer into those few days.’<br> +<br> +‘Emily,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘I wish him to know the Carringtons; +invite them and the Westons to dinner on Tuesday.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh don’t!’ cried Reginald. ‘It will be +so jolly to have him to take wasps’ nests; and may I go out rabbit-shooting +with him?’<br> +<br> +‘If he goes.’<br> +<br> +‘And may I carry a gun?’<br> +<br> +‘If it is not loaded,’ said his father.<br> +<br> +‘Indeed, I would do no mischief,’ said Reginald.<br> +<br> +‘Let me give you one piece of advice, Reginald,’ said Mr. +Mohun, with a mysterious air - ‘never make rash promises.’<br> +<br> +Lilias was rather disappointed in her hopes that Miss Weston and Claude +would become better acquainted. At dinner the conversation was +almost entirely between the elder gentlemen; Claude scarcely spoke, +except when referred to by his father or Mr. Devereux. Miss Weston +never liked to incur the danger of having to repeat her insignificant +speeches to a deaf ear, and being interested in the discussion that +was going on, she by no means seconded Lily’s attempt to get up +an under-current of talk. In general, Lily liked to listen to +conversation in silence, but she was now in very high spirits, and could +not be quiet; fortunately, she had no interest in the subject the gentlemen +were discussing, so that she could not meddle with that, and finding +Alethea silent and Claude out of reach, she turned to Reginald, and +talked and tittered with him all dinner-time.<br> +<br> +In the drawing-room she had it all her own way, and talked enough for +all the sisters.<br> +<br> +‘Have you heard that Cousin Rotherwood is coming?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, you said so before dinner.’<br> +<br> +‘We hope,’ said Emily, ‘that you and Mr. Weston will +dine here on Tuesday. The Carringtons are coming, and a few others.’<br> +<br> +‘Thank you,’ said Alethea; ‘I daresay papa will be +very glad to come.’<br> +<br> +‘Have you ever seen Rotherwood?’ said Lilias.<br> +<br> +‘Never,’ was the reply.<br> +<br> +‘Do not expect much,’ said Lily, laughing, though she knew +not why; ‘he is a very little fellow; no one would suppose him +to be twenty, he has such a boyish look. Then he never sits down +- ’<br> +<br> +‘Literally?’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Literally,’ persisted Lily; ‘such a quick person +you never did see.’<br> +<br> +‘Is he at Oxford?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh yes! it was all papa’s doing that he was sent to Eton. +Papa is his guardian. Aunt Rotherwood never would have parted +with him.’<br> +<br> +‘He is the only son,’ interposed Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Uncle Rotherwood put him quite in papa’s power; Aunt Rotherwood +wanted to keep him at home with a tutor, and what she would have made +of him I cannot think,’ said Lily; and regardless of Emily’s +warning frowns, and Alethea’s attempt to change the subject, she +went on: ‘When he was quite a child he used to seem a realisation +of all the naughty Dicks and Toms in story-books. Miss Middleton +had a perfect horror of his coming here, for he would mind no one, and +played tricks and drew Claude into mischief; but he is quite altered +since papa had the management of him - Oh! such talks as papa has had +with Aunt Rotherwood - do you know, papa says no one knows what it is +to lose a father but those who have the care of his children, and Aunt +Rotherwood is so provoking.’<br> +<br> +Here Alethea determined to put an end to this oration, and to Emily’s +great relief, she cut short the detail of Lady Rotherwood’s offences +by saying, ‘Do you think Faith Longley likely to suit us, if we +took her to help the housemaid?’<br> +<br> +‘Are you thinking of taking her?’ cried Lily. ‘Yes, +for steady, stupid household work, Faith would do very well; she is +just the stuff to make a servant of - “for dulness ever must be +regular” - I mean for those who like mere steadiness better than +anything more lovable.’<br> +<br> +As Alethea said, laughing, ‘I must confess my respect for that +quality,’ Mr. Devereux and Claude entered the room.<br> +<br> +‘Oh, Robert!’ cried Lily, ‘Mrs. Weston is going to +take Faith Longley to help the housemaid.’<br> +<br> +‘You are travelling too fast, Lily,’ said Alethea, ‘she +is only going to think about it.’<br> +<br> +‘I should be very glad,’ said Mr. Devereux, ‘that +Faith should have a good place; the Longleys are very respectable people, +and they behaved particularly well in refusing to let this girl go and +live with some dissenters at Stoney Bridge.’<br> +<br> +‘I like what I have seen of the girl very much,’ said Miss +Weston.<br> +<br> +‘In spite of her sad want of feeling,’ said Robert, smiling, +as he looked at Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! she is a good work-a-day sort of person,’ said Lily, +‘like all other poor people, hard and passive. Now, do not +set up your eyebrows, Claude, I am quite serious, there is no warmth +about any except - ’<br> +<br> +‘So this is what Lily is come to!’ cried Emily; ‘the +grand supporter of the poor on poetical principles.’<br> +<br> +‘The poor not affectionate!’ said Alethea.<br> +<br> +‘Not, compared within people whose minds and affections have been +cultivated,’ said Lily. ‘Now just hear what Mrs. Wall +said to me only yesterday; she asked for a black stuff gown out of the +clothing club, “for,” said she, “I had a misfortune, +Miss;” I thought it would be, “and tore my gown,” +but it was, “I had a misfortune, Miss, and lost my brother.”’<br> +<br> +‘A very harsh conclusion on very slight grounds,’ said Mr. +Devereux.<br> +<br> +‘Prove the contrary,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Facts would scarcely demonstrate it either way,’ said Mr. +Devereux. ‘They would only prove what was the case with +individuals who chanced to come in our way, and if we are seldom able +to judge of the depth of feeling of those with whom we are familiar, +how much less of those who feel our presence a restraint.’<br> +<br> +‘Intense feeling mocks restraint,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Violent, not intense,’ said Mr. Devereux. ‘Besides, +you talk of cultivating the affections. Now what do you mean? +Exercising them, or talking about them?’<br> +<br> +‘Ah!’ said Emily, ‘the affection of a poor person +is more tried; we blame a poor man for letting his old mother go to +the workhouse, without considering how many of us would do the same, +if we had as little to live upon.’<br> +<br> +‘Still,’ said Alethea, ‘the same man who would refuse +to maintain her if poor, would not bear with her infirmities if rich.’<br> +<br> +‘Are the poor never infirm and peevish?’ said Mr. Devereux.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! how much worse it must be to bear with ill-temper in poverty,’ +said Emily, ‘when we think it quite wonderful to see a young lady +kind and patient with a cross old relation; what must it be when she +is denying herself, not only her pleasure, but her food for her sake; +not merely sitting quietly with her all day, and calling a servant to +wait upon her, but toiling all day to maintain her, and keeping awake +half the night to nurse her?’<br> +<br> +‘Those are realities, indeed,’ said Alethea; ‘our +greatest efforts seem but child’s play in comparison.’<br> +<br> +Lilias could hardly have helped being sobered by this conversation if +she had attended to it, but she had turned away to repeat the story +of Mrs. Walls to Jane, and then, fancying that the others were still +remarking upon it, she said in a light, laughing tone, ‘Well, +so far I agree with you. I know of a person who may well be called +one of ourselves, who I could quite fancy making such a speech.’<br> +<br> +‘Whom do you mean?’ said Mr. Devereux. Alethea wished +she did not know.<br> +<br> +‘No very distant relation,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Do not talk nonsense, Jane,’ said Claude, gravely.<br> +<br> +‘No nonsense at all, Claude,’ cried Jane in her very very +pertest tone, ‘it is exactly like Eleanor; I am sure I can see +her with her hands before her, saying in her prim voice, “I must +turn my old black silk and trim it with crape, for I have had a misfortune, +and lost my brother.”’<br> +<br> +‘Lilias,’ said Miss Weston, somewhat abruptly, ‘did +you not wish to sing with me this evening?’<br> +<br> +And thus she kept Lilias from any further public mischief that evening.<br> +<br> +Claude, exceedingly vexed by what had passed, with great injustice, +laid the blame upon Miss Weston, and instead of rendering her the honour +which she really deserved for the tact with which she had put an end +to the embarrassment of all parties, he fancied she was anxious to display +her talents for music, and thus only felt fretted by the sounds.<br> +<br> +Mr. Weston and his daughter intended to walk home that evening, as it +was a beautiful moonlight night.<br> +<br> +‘Oh, let us convoy you!’ exclaimed Lilias; ‘I do long +to show Alethea a glow-worm. Will you come, Claude? May +we, papa? Feel how still and warm it is. A perfect summer +night, not a breath stirring.’<br> +<br> +Mr. Mohun consented, and Lily almost hurried Alethea upstairs, to put +on her bonnet and shawl. When she came down she found that the +walking party had increased. Jane and Reginald would both have +been in despair to have missed such a frolic; Maurice hoped to fall +in with the droning beetle, or to lay violent hands on a glow-worm; +Emily did not like to be left behind, and even Mr. Mohun was going, +being in the midst of an interesting conversation with Mr. Weston. +Lily, with an absurd tragic gesture, told Alethea that amongst so many, +such a crowd, all the grace and sweet influence of the walk was ruined. +The ‘sweet influence’ was ruined as far as Lily was concerned, +but not by the number of her companions. It was the uneasy feeling +caused by her over-strained spirits and foolish chattering that prevented +her from really entering into the charm of the soft air, the clear moon, +the solemn deep blue sky, the few stars, the white lilies on the dark +pond, the long shadows of the trees, the freshness of the dewy fields. +Her simplicity, and her genuine delight in the loveliness of the scene, +was gone for the time, and though she spoke much of her enjoyment, it +was in a high-flown affected style.<br> +<br> +When the last good-night had been exchanged, and Lily had turned homeward, +she felt the stillness which succeeded their farewells almost oppressive; +she started at the dark shadow of a tree which lay across the path, +and to shake off a sensation of fear which was coming over her, she +put her arm within Claude’s, exclaiming, ‘You naughty boy, +you will be stupid and silent, say what I will.’<br> +<br> +‘I heard enough to-night to strike me dumb,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +For one moment Lily thought he was in jest, but the gravity of his manner +showed her that he was both grieved and displeased, and she changed +her tone as she said, ‘Oh! Claude, what do you mean?’<br> +<br> +‘Do you not know?’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘What, you mean about Eleanor?’<i> </i>said Lily; ‘you +must fall upon Miss Jenny there - it was her doing.’<br> +<br> +‘Jane’s tongue is a pest,’ said Claude; ‘but +she was not the first to speak evil falsely of one to whom you owe everything. +Oh! Lily, I cannot tell you how that allusion of yours sounded.’<br> +<br> +‘What allusion?’ asked Lily in alarm, for she had never +seen her gentle brother so angry.<br> +<br> +‘You know,’ said he.<br> +<br> +‘Indeed, I do not,’ exclaimed Lily, munch frightened. +‘Claude, Claude, you must mistake, I never could have said anything +so very shocking.’<br> +<br> +‘I hope I do,’ said Claude; ‘I could hardly believe +that one of the little ones who cannot remember him, could have referred +to him in that way - but for you!’<br> +<br> +‘Him?’<i> </i>said Lilias.<br> +<br> +‘I do not like to mention his name to one who regards him so lightly,’ +said Claude. ‘Think over what passed, if you are sufficiently +come to yourself to remember it.’<br> +<br> +After a little pause Lily said in a subdued voice, ‘Claude, I +hope you do not believe that I was thinking of what really happened +when I said that.’<br> +<br> +‘Pray what were you thinking of?’<br> +<br> +‘The abstract view of Eleanor’s character.’<br> +<br> +‘Abstract nonsense!’ said Claude. ‘A fine demonstration +of the rule of love, to go about the world slandering your sister!’<br> +<br> +‘To go about the world! Oh! Claude, it was only Robert, +one of ourselves, and Alethea, to whom I tell everything.’<br> +<br> +‘So much the worse. I always rejoiced that you had no foolish +young lady friend to make missish confidences to.’<br> +<br> +‘She is no foolish young lady friend,’ said Lilias, indignant +in her turn; ‘she is five years older than I am, and papa wishes +us to be intimate with her.’<br> +<br> +‘Then the fault is in yourself,’ said Claude. ‘You +ought not to have told such things if they were true, and being utterly +false - ’<br> +<br> +‘But, Claude, I cannot see that they are false.’<br> +<br> +‘Not false, that Eleanor cared not a farthing for Harry!’ +cried Claude, shaking off Lily’s arm, and stopping short.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! - she cared, she really did care,’ said Lily, as fast +as she could speak. ‘Oh! Claude, how could you think +that? I told you I did not mean what really happened, only that +- Eleanor is cold - not as warm as some people - she did care for him, +of course she did - I know that - I believe she loved him with all her +heart - but yet - I mean she did not - she went on as usual - said nothing +- scarcely cried - looked the same - taught us - never - Oh! it did +not make half the difference in her that it did in William.’<br> +<br> +‘I cannot tell how she behaved at the time,’ said Claude, +‘I only know I never had any idea what a loss Harry was till I +came home and saw her face. I used never to trouble myself to +think whether people looked ill or well, but the change in her did strike +me. She was bearing up to comfort papa, and to cheer William, +and to do her duty by all of us, and you could take such noble resignation +for want of feeling!’<br> +<br> +Lilias looked down and tried to speak, but she was choked by her tears; +she could not bear Claude’s displeasure, and she wept in silence. +At last she said in a voice broken by sobs, ‘I was unjust - I +know Eleanor was all kindness - all self-sacrifice - I have been very +ungrateful - I wish I could help it - and you know well, Claude, how +far I am from regarding dear Harry with indifference - how the thought +of him is a star in my mind - how happy it makes me to think of him +at the end of the Church Militant Prayer; do not believe I was dreaming +of him.’<br> +<br> +‘And pray,’ said Claude, laughing in his own good-humoured +way, ‘which of us is it that she is so willing to lose?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Claude, no such thing,’ said Lily, ‘you know +what I meant, or did not mean. It was nonsense - I hope nothing +worse.’ Lily felt that she might take his arm again. +There was a little silence, and then Lily resumed in a timid voice, +‘I do not know whether you will be angry, Claude, but honestly, +I do not think that if - that Eleanor would be so wretched about you +as I should.’<br> +<br> +‘Eleanor knew Harry better than you did; no, Lily, I never could +have been what Harry was, even if I had never wasted my time, and if +my headaches had not interfered with my best efforts.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not believe that, say what you will,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Ask William, then,’ said Claude, sighing.<br> +<br> +‘I am sure papa does not think so,’ said Lily; ‘no, +I cannot feel that Harry is such a loss when we still have you.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Lily, it is plain that you never knew Harry,’ said +Claude. ‘I do not believe you ever did - that is one ting +to be said for you.’<br> +<br> +‘Not as you did,’ said Lily; ‘remember, he was six +years older. Then think how little we saw of him whilst they were +abroad; he was always at school, or spending the holidays with Aunt +Robert, and latterly even farther off, and only coming sometimes for +an hour or two to see us. Then he used to kiss us all round, we +went into the garden with him, looked at him, and were rather afraid +of him; then he walked off to Wat Greenwood, came back, wished us good-bye, +and away he went.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Claude, ‘but after they came home?’<br> +<br> +‘Then he was a tall youth, and we were silly girls,’ said +Lilias; ‘he avoided Miss Middleton, and we were always with her. +He was good-natured, but he could not get on with us; he did very well +with the little ones, but we were of the wrong age. He and William +and Eleanor were one faction, we were another, and you were between +both - he was too old, too sublime, too good, too grave for us.’<br> +<br> +‘Too grave!’ said Claude; ‘I never heard a laugh so +full of glee, except, perhaps, Phyllis’s.’<br> +<br> +‘The last time he was at home,’ continued Lily, ‘we +began to know him better; there was no Miss Middleton in the way, and +after you and William were gone, he used to walk with us, and read to +us. He read <i>Guy</i> <i>Mannering </i>to us, and told us the +story of Sir Maurice de Mohun; but the loss was not the same to us as +to you elder ones; and then sorrow was almost lost in admiration, and +in pleasure at the terms in which every one spoke of him. Claude, +I have no difficulty in not wishing it otherwise; he is still my brother, +and I would not change the feeling which the thought of his death gives +me - no, not for himself in life and health.’<br> +<br> +‘Ah!’ sighed Claude, ‘you have no cause for self-reproach +- no reason to lament over “wasted hours and love misspent.”’<br> +<br> +‘You will always talk of your old indolence, as if it was a great +crime,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘It was my chief temptation,’ said Claude. ‘As +long as we know we are out of the path of duty it does not make much +difference whether we have turned to the right hand or to the left.’<br> +<br> +‘Was it Harry’s death that made you look upon it in this +light?’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘I knew it well enough before,’ said Claude, ‘it was +what he had often set before me. Indeed, till I came home, and +saw this place without him, I never really knew what a loss he was. +At Eton I did not miss him more than when he went to Oxford, and I did +not dwell on what he was to papa, or what I ought to be; and even when +I saw what home was without him, I should have contented myself with +miserable excuses about my health, if it had not been for my confirmation; +then I awoke, I saw my duty, and the wretched way in which I had been +spending my time. Thoughts of Harry and of my father came afterwards; +I had not vigour enough for them before.’<br> +<br> +Here they reached the house, and parted - Claude, ashamed of having +talked of himself for the first time in his life, and Lily divided between +shame at her own folly and pleasure at Claude’s having thus opened +his mind.<br> +<br> +Jane, who was most in fault, escaped censure. Her father was ignorant +of her improper speech. Emily forgot it, and it was not Claude’s +place to reprove his sisters, though to Lily he spoke as a friend. +It passed away from her mind like other idle words, which, however, +could not but leave an impression on those who heard her.<br> +<br> +An unlooked-for result of the folly of this evening was, that Claude +was prevented from appreciating Miss Weston He could not learn to like +her, nor shake off an idea, that she was prying into their family concerns; +he thought her over-praised, and would not even give just admiration +to her singing, because he had once fancied her eager to exhibit it. +It was unreasonable to dislike his sister’s friend for his sister’s +folly, but Claude’s wisdom was not yet arrived at its full growth, +and he deserved credit for keeping his opinion to himself.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER IX - THE WASP<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Whom He hath blessed and called His own,<br> +He tries them early, look and tone,<br> + Bent brow and throbbing heart,<br> +Tries them with pain.’<br> +<br> +The next week Lily had the pleasure of fitting out Faith Longley for +her place at Mrs. Weston’s. She rejoiced at this opportunity +of patronising her, because in her secret soul she felt that she might +have done her a little injustice in choosing her own favourite Esther +in her stead. Esther’s popularity at the New Court, however, +made Lilias confident in her own judgment; the servants liked her because +she was quick and obliging, Mr. Mohun said she looked very neat, Phyllis +liked her because a mischance to her frock was not so brave an offence +with her as with Rachel, and Ada was growing very fond of her, because +she was in the habit of bestowing great admiration on her golden curls +as she arranged them, and both little girls were glad not to be compelled +to put away the playthings they took out.<br> +<br> +Maurice and Reginald had agreed to defer their onslaught on the wasps +till Lord Rotherwood’s arrival, and the war was now limited to +attacks on foraging parties. Reginald most carefully marked every +nest about the garden and farm, and, on his cousin’s arrival on +Saturday evening, began eagerly to give him a list of their localities. +Lord Rotherwood was as ardent in the cause as even Reginald could desire, +and would have instantly set out with him to reconnoitre had not the +evening been rainy.<br> +<br> +Then turning to Claude, he said, ‘But I have not told you what +brought me here; I came to persuade you to make an expedition with me +up the Rhine; I set off next week; I would not write about it, because +I knew you would only say you should like it very much, but - some but, +that meant it was a great deal too much trouble.’<br> +<br> +‘How fast the plan has risen up,’ said Claude, ‘I +heard nothing of it when I was with you.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! it only came into my head last week, but I do not see what +there is to wait for, second thoughts are never best.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Claude, how delightful,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +Claude stirred his tea meditatively, and did not speak.<br> +<br> +‘It is too much trouble, I perceive,’ said Lord Rotherwood; +‘just as I told you.’<br> +<br> +‘Not exactly,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +Lord Rotherwood now detailed his plan to his uncle, who said with a +propitious smile, ‘Well, Claude, what do you think of it?<br> +<br> +‘Mind you catch a firefly for me,’ said Maurice.<br> +<br> +‘Why don’t you answer, Claude?’ said Lilias; ‘only +imagine seeing Undine’s Castle!’<br> +<br> +‘Eh, Claude?’<i> </i>said his father.<br> +<br> +‘It would be very pleasant,’ said Claude, slowly, ‘but +- ’<br> +<br> +‘What?’ said Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘Only a but,’ said the Marquis. ‘I hope he will +have disposed of it by the morning; I start next Tuesday week; I would +not go later for the universe; we shall be just in time for the summer +in its beauty, and to have a peep at Switzerland. We shall not +have time for Mont Blanc, without rattling faster than any man in his +senses would do. I do not mean to leave any place till I have +thoroughly seen twice over everything worth seeing that it contains.’<br> +<br> +‘Then perhaps you will get as far as Antwerp, and spend the rest +of the holidays between the Cathedral and Paul Potter’s bull. +No, I shall have nothing to say to you at that rate,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Depend upon it, it will be you that will wish to stand still +when I had rather be on the move,’ said the Marquis.<br> +<br> +‘Then you had better leave me behind. I have no intention +of being hurried over the world, and never having my own way,’ +said Claude, trying to look surly.<br> +<br> +‘I am sure I should not mind travelling twice over the world to +see Cologne Cathedral, or the field of Waterloo,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Let me only show him my route,’ said Lord Rotherwood. +‘Redgie, look in my greatcoat pocket in the hall for Murray’s +Handbook, will you?’<br> +<br> +‘Go and get it, Phyl,’ said Reginald, who was astride on +the window-sill, peeling a stick.<br> +<br> +Away darted Lord Rotherwood to fetch it himself, but Phyllis was before +him; her merry laugh was heard, as he chased her round the hall to get +possession of his book, throwing down two or three cloaks to intercept +her path. Mr. Mohun took the opportunity of his absence to tell +Claude that he need not refuse on the score of expense.<br> +<br> +‘Thank you,’ was all Claude’s answer.<br> +<br> +Lord Rotherwood returned, and after punishing the discourteous Reginald +by raising him up by his ears, he proceeded to give a full description +of the delights of his expedition, the girls joining heartily with him +in declaring it as well arranged as possible, and bringing all their +knowledge of German travels to bear upon it. Claude sometimes +put in a word, but never as if he cared much about the matter, and he +was not to be persuaded to give any decided answer as to whether he +would accompany the Marquis.<br> +<br> +The next morning at breakfast Lord Rotherwood returned to the charge, +but Claude seemed even more inclined to refuse than the day before. +Lilias could not divine what was the matter with him, and lingered long +after her sisters had gone to school, to hear what answer he would make; +and when Mr. Mohun looked at his watch, and asked her if she knew how +late it was, she rose from the breakfast-table with a sigh, and thought +while she was putting on her bonnet how much less agreeable the school +had been since the schism in the parish. And besides, now that +Faith and Esther, and one or two others of her best scholars, had gone +away from school, there seemed to be no one of any intelligence or knowledge +left in the class, except Marianne Weston, who knew too much for the +others, and one or two clever inattentive little girls: Lily almost +disliked teaching them.<br> +<br> +Phyllis and Adeline were in Miss Weston’s class, and much did +they delight in her teaching. There was a quiet earnestness in +her manner which attracted her pupils, and fixed their attention, so +as scarcely to allow the careless room for irreverence, while mere cleverness +seemed almost to lose its advantage in learning what can only truly +be entered into by those whose conduct agrees with their knowledge.<br> +<br> +Phyllis never dreamt that she could be happy while standing still and +learning, till Miss Weston began to teach at the Sunday school. +Obedience at school taught her to acquire habits of reverent attention, +which gradually conquered the idleness and weariness which had once +possessed her at church. First, she learnt to be interested in +the Historical Lessons, then never to lose her place in the Psalms, +then to think about and follow some of the Prayers; by this time she +was far from feeling any fatigue at all on week-days; she had succeeded +in restraining any contortions to relieve herself from the irksomeness +of sitting still, and had her thoughts in tolerable order through the +greater part of the Sunday service, and now it was her great wish, unknown +to any one, to abstain from a single yawn through the whole service, +including the sermon!<br> +<br> +Her place (chosen for her by Eleanor when first she had begun to go +to Church, as far as possible from Reginald) was at the end of the seat, +between her papa and the wall. This morning, as she put her arm +on the book-board, while rising from kneeling, she felt a sudden thrill +of sharp pain smear her left elbow, which made her start violently, +and would have caused a scream, had she not been in church. She +saw a wasp fall on the ground, and was just about to put her foot on +it, when she recollected where she was. She had never in her life +intentionally killed anything, and this was no time to begin in that +place, and when she was angry. The pain was severe - more so perhaps +than any she had felt before - and very much frightened, she pulled +her papa’s coat to draw his attention. But her first pull +was so slight that he did not feel it, and before she gave a second +she remembered that she could not make him hear what was the matter, +without more noise than was proper. No, she must stay where she +was, and try to bear the pain, and she knew that if she did try, help +would be given her. She proceeded to find out the Psalm and join +her voice with the others, though her heart was beating very fast, her +forehead was contracted, and she could not help keeping her right hand +clasped round her arm, and sometimes shifting from one foot to the other. +The sharpness of the pain soon went off; she was able to attend to the +Lessons, and hoped it would soon be quite well; but as soon as she began +to think about it, it began to ache and throb, and seemed each moment +to be growing hotter. The sermon especially tried her patience, +her cheeks were burning, she felt sick and hardly able to hold up her +head, yet she would not lean it against the wall, because she had often +been told not to do so. She was exceedingly alarmed to find that +her arm had swelled so much that she could hardly bend it, and it had +received the impression of the gathers of her sleeve; she thought no +sermon had ever been so long, but she sat quite still and upright, as +she could not have done, had she not trained herself unconsciously by +her efforts to leave off the trick of kicking her heels together. +She did not speak till she was in the churchyard, and then she made +Emily look at her arm.<br> +<br> +‘My poor child, it is frightful,’ said Emily, ‘what +is the matter?’<br> +<br> +‘A wasp stung me just before the Psalms,’ said Phyllis, +‘and it goes on swelling and swelling, and it does pant!’<br> +<br> +‘What is the matter?’ asked Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘Papa, just look,’ said Emily, ‘a wasp stung this +dear child quite early in the service, and she has been bearing it all +this time in silence. Why did you not show me, Phyl?’<br> +<br> +‘Because it was in church,’ said the little girl.<br> +<br> +‘Why, Phyllis, you are a very Spartan,’ said Lord Rotherwood.<br> +<br> +‘Something better than a Spartan,’ said Mr. Mohun. +‘Does it give you much pain now, my dear?’<br> +<br> +‘Not so bad as in church,’ said Phyllis, ‘only I am +very tired, and it is so hot.’<br> +<br> +‘We will help you home, then,’ said Mr. Mohun. As +he took her up in his arms, Phyllis laughed, thanked him, replied to +various inquiries from her sisters and the Westons - laughed again at +sundry jokes from her brothers, then became silent, and was almost asleep, +with her head on her papa’s shoulder, by the time they reached +the hall-door. She thought it very strange to be laid down on +the sofa in the drawing-room, and to find every one attending to her. +Mrs. Weston bathed her forehead with lavender-water, and Lily cut open +the sleeve of her frock; Jane fetched all manner of remedies, and Emily +pitied her. She was rather frightened: she thought such a fuss +would not be made about her unless she was very ill; she was faint and +tired, and was glad when Mrs. Weston proposed that they should all come +away, and leave her to go to sleep quietly.<br> +<br> +Marianne was so absorbed in admiration of Phyllis that she did not speak +one word all the way from church to the New Court, and stood in silence +watching the operations upon her friend, till Mrs. Weston sent every +one away.<br> +<br> +Adeline rather envied Phyllis; she would willingly have endured the +pain to be made of so much importance, and said to be better than a +Spartan, which must doubtless be something very fine indeed!<br> +<br> +Phyllis was waked by the bells ringing for the afternoon service; Mrs. +Weston was sitting by her, reading, Claude came to inquire for her, +and to tell her that as she had lost her early dinner, she was to join +the rest of the party at six. To her great surprise she felt quite +well and fresh, and her arm was much better; Mrs. Weston pinned up her +sleeve, and she set off with her to church, wondering whether Ada would +remember to tell her what she had missed that afternoon at school. +Those whose approbation was valuable, honoured Phyllis for her conduct, +but she did not perceive it, or seek for it; she did not look like a +heroine while running about and playing with Reginald and the dogs in +the evening, but her papa had told her she was a good child, Claude +had given her one of his kindest smiles, and she was happy. Even +when Esther was looking at the mark left by the sting, and telling her +that she was sure Miss Marianne Weston would have not been half so good, +her simple, humble spirit came to her aid, and she answered, ‘I’ll +tell you what, Esther, Marianne would have behaved much better, for +she is older, and never fidgets, and she would not have been angry like +me, and just going to kill the wasp.’<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER X - COUSIN ROTHERWOOD<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘We care not who says<br> + And intends it dispraise,<br> +That an Angler to a fool is next neighbour.’<br> +<br> +In the evening Lord Rotherwood renewed his entreaties to Claude to join +him on his travels. He was very much bent on taking him, for his +own pleasure depended not a little on his cousin’s company. +Claude lay on the glassy slope of the terrace, while Lord Rotherwood +paced rapidly up and down before him, persuading him with all the allurements +he could think of, and looking the picture of impatience. Lily +sat by, adding her weight to all his arguments. But Claude was +almost contemptuous to all the beauties of Germany, and all the promised +sights; he scarcely gave himself the trouble to answer his tormentors, +only vouchsafing sometimes to open his lips to say that he never meant +to go to a country where people spoke a language that sounded like cracking +walnuts; that he hated steamers; had no fancy for tumble-down castles; +that it was so common to travel; there was more distinction in staying +at home; that the field of Waterloo had been spoilt, and was not worth +seeing; his ideas of glaciers would be ruined by the reality; and he +did not care to see Cologne Cathedral till it was finished.<br> +<br> +On this Lily set up an outcry of horror.<br> +<br> +‘One comfort is, Lily,’ said Lord Rotherwood, ‘he +does not mean it; he did not say it from the bottom of his heart. +Now, confess you did not, Claude.’<br> +<br> +Claude pretended to be asleep.<br> +<br> +‘I see plainly enough,’ said the Marquis to Lily, ‘it +is as Wat Greenwood says, “Mr. Reynold and the grapes.”’<br> +<br> +‘But it is not,’ said Lily, ‘and that is what provokes +me; papa says he is quite welcome to go if he likes, and that he thinks +it will do him a great deal of good, but that foolish boy will say nothing +but “I will think about it,” and “thank you”’<br> +<br> +‘Then I give him up as regularly dense.’<br> +<br> +‘It is the most delightful plan ever thought of,’ said Lily, +‘so easily done, and just bringing within his compass all he ever +wished to see.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! his sole ambition is to stretch those long legs of his on +the grass, like a great vegetable marrow,’ said Lord Rotherwood. +‘It is vegetating like a plant that makes him so much taller than +any rational creature with a little animal life.’<br> +<br> +‘I think Jane has his share of curiosity,’ said Lily, ‘I +am sure I had no idea that anything belonging to us could be so stupid.’<br> +<br> +‘Well,’ said the Marquis, ‘I shall not go.’<br> +<br> +‘No?’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘No, I shall certainly not go.’<br> +<br> +‘Nonsense,’ said Claude, waking from his pretended sleep, +‘why do you not ask Travers to go with you? He would like +nothing better.’<br> +<br> +‘He is a botanist, and would bore me with looking for weeds. +No, I will have you, or stay at home.’<br> +<br> +Claude proposed several others as companions, but Lord Rotherwood treated +them all with as much disdain as Claude had shown for Germany, and ended +with ‘Now, Claude, you know my determination, only tell me why +you will not go?’<br> +<br> +‘Then I do tell you, Rotherwood, the truth is, that those boys, +Maurice and Reginald, are perfectly unmanageable when they are left +alone with the girls.’<br> +<br> +‘Have a tutor for them,’ said the Marquis.<br> +<br> +‘Very much obliged to you they would be for the suggestion,’ +said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! but Claude,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘I really cannot go. They mind no one but the Baron and +me, and besides that, it would be no small annoyance to the house; ten +tutors could not keep them from indescribable bits of mischief. +I undertook them these holidays, and I mean to keep them.’<br> +<br> +Lilias was just flying off to her father, when Claude caught hold of +her, saying, ‘I desire you will not,’ and she stood still, +looking at her cousin in dismay.<br> +<br> +‘It is all right,’ cried the Marquis, joyfully, ‘it +is only to set off three weeks later.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! I thought you would not go a week later for the universe,’ +said Claude, smiling.<br> +<br> +‘Not for the Universe, but for U-,’ said Lord Rotherwood.<br> +<br> +‘Worthy of a companion true, of the University of Gottingen,’ +said Claude; ‘but, Rotherwood, do you really mean that it will +make no difference to you?’<br> +<br> +‘None whatever; I meant to spend three weeks with my mother at +the end of the tour, and I shall spend them now instead. I only +talked of going immediately, because nothing is done at all that is +not done quickly, and I hate delays, but it is all the same, and now +it stands for Tuesday three weeks. Now we shall see what he says +to Cologne, Lily.’<br> +<br> +Claude sprung up, and began talking over arrangements and possibilities +with zest, which showed what his wishes had been from the first. +All was quickly settled, and as soon as his father had given his cordial +approbation to the scheme, it was amusing to see how animated and active +Claude became, and in how different a style he talked of the once slighted +Rhine.<br> +<br> +Lord Rotherwood told the boys that their brother was a great deal too +good for them, but they never troubled themselves to ask in what respect; +Lilias took very great delight in telling Emily of the sacrifice which +he had been willing to make, and looked forward to talking it over with +Alethea, but she refrained, as long as he was at home, as she knew it +would greatly displease him, and she had heard enough about missish +confidences.<br> +<br> +The Marquis of Rotherwood was certainly the very reverse of his chosen +travelling companion, in the matter of activity. He made an appointment +with the two boys to get up at half-past four on Monday morning for +some fishing, before the sun was too high - Maurice not caring for the +sport, but intending to make prize of any of the ‘insect youth’ +which might prefer the sunrise for their gambols; and Reginald, in high +delight at the prospect of real fishing, something beyond his own performances +with a stick and a string, in pursuit of minnows in the ditches. +Reginald was making contrivances for tying a string round his wrist +and hanging the end of it from the window, that Andrew Grey might give +it a pull as he went by to his work, to wake him, when Lord Rotherwood +exclaimed, ‘What! cannot you wake yourself at any time you please?’<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Reginald, ‘I never heard of any one that +could.’<br> +<br> +‘Then I advise you to learn the art; in the meantime I will call +you to-morrow.’<br> +<br> +Loud voices and laughter in the hall, and the front door creaking on +its hinges at sunrise, convinced the household that this was no vain +boast; before breakfast was quite over the fishermen were seen approaching +the house. Lord Rotherwood was an extraordinary figure, in an +old shooting jacket of his uncle’s, an enormous pair of fishing-boots +of William’s, and the broad-brimmed straw hat, which always hung +up in the hall, and was not claimed by any particular owner.<br> +<br> +Maurice displayed to Jane the contents of two phials, strange little +creatures, with stranger names, of which he was as proud as Reginald +of his three fine trout. Lord Rotherwood did not appear till he +had made himself look like other people, which he did in a surprisingly +short time. He began estimating the weight of the fish, and talking +at his most rapid rate, till at last Claude said, ‘Phyllis told +us just now that you were coming back, for that she heard Cousin Rotherwood +talking, and it proved to be Jane’s old turkey cock gobbling.’<br> +<br> +‘No bad compliment,’ said Emily, ‘for Phyllis was +once known to say, on hearing a turkey cock, “How melodiously +that nightingale sings.”’<br> +<br> +‘No, no! that was Ada,’ said Lilias.<br> +<br> +‘I could answer for that,’ said Claude. ‘Phyllis +is too familiar with both parties to mistake their notes. Besides, +she never was known to use such a word as melodiously.’<br> +<br> +‘Do you remember,’ said the Marquis, ‘that there was +some great lawyer who had three kinds of handwriting, one that the public +could read, one that only his clerk could read, and one that nobody +could read?’<br> +<br> +‘I suppose I am the clerk,’ said Claude, ‘unless I +divide the honour with Florence.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not think I am unintelligible anywhere but here,’ +said Lord Rotherwood. ‘There is nothing sufficiently exciting +at home, if Grosvenor Square is to be called home.’<br> +<br> +‘Sometimes you do it without knowing it,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Claude, ‘when you do not exactly know +what you are going to say.’<br> +<br> +‘Then it is no bad plan,’ said Lord Rotherwood. ‘People +are satisfied, and you don’t commit yourself.’<br> +<br> +‘I’ll tell you what, Cousin Rotherwood,’ exclaimed +Phyllis, ‘your hand is bleeding.’<br> +<br> +‘Is it? Thank you, Phyllis, I thought I had washed it off: +now do find me some sealing-wax - India-rub her - sticking-plaster, +I mean.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Rotherwood,’ said Emily, ‘what a bad cut, +how did it happen?’<br> +<br> +‘Only, I am the victim to Maurice’s first essay in fishing.’<br> +<br> +‘Just fancy what an awkward fellow Maurice is,’ said Reginald, +‘he had but one throw, and he managed to stick the hook into Rotherwood’s +hand.’<br> +<br> +‘One of those barbed hooks? Oh! Rotherwood, how horrid!’ +said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘And he cut it out with his knife, and caught that great trout +with it directly,’ said Reginald.<br> +<br> +‘And neither half drowned Maurice, nor sent him home again?’<i> +</i>asked Lily.<br> +<br> +‘I contented myself with taking away his weapon,’ said the +Marquis; ‘and he wished for nothing better than to poke about +in the gutters for insects; it was only Redgie that teased him into +the nobler sport.’<br> +<br> +Emily was inclined to make a serious matter of the accident, but her +cousin said ten words while she said one, and by the time her first +sentence was uttered, she found him talking about his ride to Devereux +Castle.<br> +<br> +He and Claude set out as soon as breakfast was over, and came back about +three o’clock; Claude was tired with the heat, and betook himself +to the sofa, where he fell asleep, under pretence of reading, but the +indefatigable Marquis was ready and willing to set out with Reginald +and Wat Greenwood to shoot rabbits.<br> +<br> +Dinner-time came, and Emily sat at the drawing-room window with Claude +and Lilias, lamenting her cousin’s bad habits. ‘Nothing +will ever make him punctual,’ said she.<br> +<br> +‘I am in duty bound to let you say nothing against him,’ +said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘It is very good-natured in him to wait for you,’ said Lily, +‘but it would be horribly selfish to leave you behind.’<br> +<br> +‘Delay is his great horror,’ said Claude, ‘and the +wonder of his character is, that he is not selfish. No one had +ever better training for it.’<br> +<br> +‘He does like his own way very much,’ said Lilias.<br> +<br> +‘Who does not?’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Nothing shows his sense so much,’ said Emily, ‘as +his great attachment to papa - the only person who ever controlled him.’<br> +<br> +‘And to Claude - his opposite in everything,’ said Lilias.<br> +<br> +‘I think he will tire you to death in Germany,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Never fear,’ said Claude, ‘my <i>vis inertiae </i>is +enough to counterbalance any amount of restlessness.’<br> +<br> +‘Here they come,’ said Lily; ‘how Wat Greenwood is +grinning at Rotherwood’s jokes!’<br> +<br> +‘A happy day for Wat,’ said Emily. ‘He will +be quite dejected if William is not at home next shooting season. +He thinks you a degenerate Mohun, Claude.’<br> +<br> +‘He must comfort himself with Redgie,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Rotherwood is only eager about shooting in common with everything +else,’ said Lily, ‘but Redgie, I fear, will care for nothing +else.’<br> +<br> +Lord Rotherwood came in, accounting for being late, as, in passing through +a harvest field, he could not help attempting to reap. The Beechcroft +farming operations had been his especial amusement from very early days, +and his plans were numerous for farming on a grand scale as soon as +he should be of age. His talk during dinner was of turnips and +wheat, till at length Mr. Mohun asked him what he thought of the appearance +of the castle. He said it was very forlorn; the rooms looked so +dreary and deserted that he could not bear to be in them, and had been +out of doors almost all the time. Indeed, he was afraid he had +disappointed the housekeeper by not complimenting her as she deserved, +for the freezing dismal order in which she kept everything. ‘And +really,’ said he, ‘I must go again to-morrow and make up +for it, and Emily, you must come with me and try to devise something +to make the unhappy place less like the abode of the Prince of the Black +Islands.’<br> +<br> +Emily willingly promised to go, and she went on talking to him, and +telling him whom he was to meet on the next day, when an unusual silence +making her look up, she beheld him more than half asleep.<br> +<br> +Reginald fidgeted and sighed, and Maurice grew graver and graver as +they thought of the wasps. Maurice wanted to take a nest entire, +and began explaining his plan to Claude.<br> +<br> +‘You see, Claude, burning some straw and then digging, spoils +the combs, as Wat does it; now I have got some puff-balls and sulphur +to put into the hole, and set fire to them with a lucifer match, so +as to stifle the wasps, and then dig them out quietly to-morrow morning.’<br> +<br> +‘It is all of no use, if that Rotherwood will do nothing but sleep,’ +said Reginald, in a disconsolate tone.<br> +<br> +‘You should not have made him get up at four,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Who! I?’ exclaimed the Marquis. ‘I never +was wider awake. What are you waiting for, Reginald? I thought +you were going to take wasps’ nests.’<br> +<br> +‘You are much too tired, I am sure,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Tired! not in the least, I have done nothing to-day to tire me,’ +said Lord Rotherwood, walking up and down the room to keep himself awake.<br> +<br> +The whole party went out, and found Wat Greenwood waiting for them with +a bundle of straw, a spade, and a little gunpowder. Maurice carried +a basket containing all his preparations, on which Wat looked with supreme +contempt, telling him that his puffs were too green to make a smeech. +Maurice, not condescending to argue the point, ran on to a nest which +Reginald had marked on one of the green banks of the ancient moat.<br> +<br> +‘Take care that the wasps are all come in; mind what you are about, +Maurice,’ called his father.<br> +<br> +‘Master Maurice,’ shouted Wat, ‘you had better take +a green bough.’<br> +<br> +‘Never mind, Wat,’ said Lord Rotherwood, ‘he would +not stay long enough to use it if he had it.’<br> +<br> +Reginald ran after Maurice, who had just reached the nest.<br> +<br> +‘There is one coming in, the evening is so warm they are not quiet +yet.’<br> +<br> +‘I’ll quiet them,’ said Maurice, kneeling down, and +putting his first puff-ball into the hole.<br> +<br> +Reginald stood by with a sly smile, as he pulled a branch off a neighbouring +filbert-tree. The next moment Maurice gave a sudden yell, ‘The +wasps! the wasps!’ and jumping up, and tripping at his first step, +rolled down the bank, and landed safely at Lord Rotherwood’s feet. +The shouts of laughter were loud, but he regarded them not, and as soon +as he recovered his feet, rushed past his sisters, and never stopped +till he reached the house. Redgie stood alone, in the midst of +a cloud of wasps, beating them off with a bough, roaring with laughter, +and calling Wat to bring the straw to burn them.<br> +<br> +‘No, no, Redgie, come away, leave them for Maurice to try again,’ +said his father.<br> +<br> +‘The brute, he stung me,’ cried Reginald, knocking down +a wasp or two as he came down. ‘What is this?’ added +he, as he stumbled over something at the bottom of the slope. +‘Oh! Maurice’s basket; look here - laudanum - did +he mean to poison the wasps?’<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Jane, ‘to cure their stings.’<br> +<br> +‘The poor unhappy quiz!’ cried Reginald.<br> +<br> +While the others were busy over a nest, Mr. Mohun asked Emily how the +boy got at the medicine chest. Emily looked confused, and said +she supposed Jane had given him a bottle.<br> +<br> +‘Jane is too young to be trusted there,’ said Mr. Mohun, +‘I thought you knew better; do not let the key be out of your +possession again.’<br> +<br> +After a few more nests had been taken in the usual manner, they returned +to the house. Maurice was lying on the sofa reading the <i>Penny +Magazine, </i>from which he raised his eyes no more that evening, in +spite of all the jokes which flew about respecting wounded knights, +courage, and the balsam of Fierabras. He called Jane to teach +her how flies were made, and as soon as tea was over he went to bed. +Reginald, after many yawns, prepared to follow his example, and as he +was wishing his sisters good-night, Emily said, ‘Now, Redgie, +do not go out at such a preposterous hour to-morrow morning.’<br> +<br> +‘What is that to you?’ was Reginald’s courteous inquiry.<br> +<br> +‘I do not wish to see every one fast asleep to-morrow evening,’ +said Emily, and she looked at her cousin, whose head was far back over +his chair.<br> +<br> +‘He is a Trojan,’ said Reginald.<br> +<br> +‘Is a Trojan better than a Spartan?’ asked Ada, meditatively.<br> +<br> +‘Helen thought so,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘“When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war,”’ +muttered the Marquis.<br> +<br> +‘You are all talking Greek,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Arabic,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +As far as it could be comprehended, Lord Rotherwood’s answer related +to Maurice and the wasps.<br> +<br> +‘There,’ said Emily, ‘what is to be done if he is +in that condition to-morrow?’<br> +<br> +‘I am not asleep; what makes you think I am?’<br> +<br> +‘I wish you would sit in that great chair,’ said Emily, +‘I am afraid you will break your neck; you look so uncomfortable, +I cannot bear to see you.’<br> +<br> +‘I never was more comfortable in my life,’ said Lord Rotherwood, +asleep while finishing the sentence; but this time, happily with his +elbows on the table, and his head in a safer position.<br> +<br> +The next day was spent rather more rationally. Lord Rotherwood +met with a book of Irish Tales, with which he became so engrossed that +he did not like to leave it when Emily and Claude were ready to ride +to Devereux Castle with him. When there he was equally eager and +vehement about each matter that came under consideration, and so many +presented themselves, that Emily began to be in agonies lest she should +not be at home in time to dress and receive her guests. They did, +however, reach the house before Lilias, who had been walking with Miss +Weston, came in, and when she went upstairs, she found Emily full of +complaints at the inconvenience of having no Rachel to assist her in +dressing, and to see that everything was in order, and that Phyllis +was fit to appear when she came down in the evening; but, by the assistance +of Lily and Jane, she got over her troubles, and when she went into +the drawing-room, she was much relieved to find her two gentlemen quite +safe and dressed. She had been in great fear of Lord Rotherwood’s +straying away to join in some of Reginald’s sports, and was grateful +to the Irish book for keeping him out of mischief.<br> +<br> +Emily was in her glory; it was the first large dinner-party since Eleanor +had gone, and though she pitied herself for having the trouble of entertaining +the people, she really enjoyed the feeling that she now appeared as +the mistress of New Court, with her cousin, the Marquis, by her side, +to show how highly she was connected. And everything went off +just as could be wished. Lord Rotherwood talked intelligibly and +sensibly, and Mr. Mohun’s neighbour at dinner had a voice which +he could hear. Lily’s pleasure was not less than her sister’s, +though of a different kind. She delighted in thinking how well +Emily did the honours, in watching the varied expression of Lord Rotherwood’s +animated countenance, in imagining Claude’s forehead to be finer +than that of any one else, and in thinking how people must admire Reginald’s +tall, active figure, and very handsome face. She was asked to +play, and did tolerably well, but was too shy to sing, nor, indeed, +was Reginald encouraging. ‘What is the use of your singing, +Lily? If it was like Miss Weston’s, now - ’<br> +<br> +Reginald had taken a great fancy to Miss Weston; he stood by her all +the evening, and afterwards let her talk to him, and then began to chatter +himself, at last becoming so confidential as to impart to her the grand +object of his ambition, which was to be taller than Claude!<br> +<br> +The next morning Lord Rotherwood left Beechcroft, somewhat to Emily’s +relief; for though she was very proud of him, and much enjoyed the dignity +of being seen to talk familiarly with him, yet, when no strangers were +present, and he became no more than an ordinary cousin, she was worried +by his incessant activity, and desire to see, know, and do everything +as fast and as thoroughly as possible. She could not see the use +of such vehemence; she liked to take things in a moderate way, and as +Claude said, much preferred the passive to the active voice. Claude, +on the contrary, was ashamed of his constitutional indolence, looked +on it as a temptation, and struggled against it, almost envying his +cousin his unabated eagerness and untiring energy, and liking to be +with him, because no one else so effectually roused him from his habitual +languor. His indolence was, however, so much the effect of ill +health, that exertion was sometimes scarcely in his power, especially +in hot weather, and by the time his brothers’ studies were finished +each day, he was unfit for anything but to lie on the grass under the +plane-tree.<br> +<br> +The days glided on, and the holidays came to an end; Maurice spent them +in adding to his collection of insects, which, with Jane’s assistance, +he arranged very neatly; and Reginald and Phyllis performed several +exploits, more agreeable to themselves than satisfactory to the more +rational part of the New Court community. At the same time, Reginald’s +devotion to Miss Weston increased; he never moved from her side when +she sang, did not fail to be of the party when she walked with his sisters, +offered her one of his own puppies, named his little ship ‘Alethea,’ +and was even tolerably civil to Marianne.<br> +<br> +At length the day of departure came; the boys returned to school, Claude +joined Lord Rotherwood, and the New Court was again in a state of tranquillity.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XI - DANCING<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Prescribe us not our duties.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, Phyllis,’ said her father, as he passed through the +hall to mount his horse, ‘how do you like the prospect of Monsieur +le Roi’s instructions?’<br> +<br> +‘Not at all, papa,’ answered Phyllis, running out to the +hall door to pat the horse, and give it a piece of bread.<br> +<br> +‘Take care you turn out your toes,’ said Mr. Mohun. +‘You must learn to dance like a dragon before Cousin Rotherwood’s +birthday next year.’<br> +<br> +‘Papa, how do dragons dance?’<br> +<br> +‘That is a question I must decide at my leisure,’ said Mr. +Mohun, mounting. ‘Stand out of the way, Phyl, or you will +feel how horses dance.’<br> +<br> +Away he rode, while Phyllis turned with unwilling steps to the nursery, +to be dressed for her first dancing lesson; Marianne Weston was to learn +with her, and this was some consolation, but Phyllis could not share +in the satisfaction Adeline felt in the arrival of Monsieur le Roi. +Jane was also a pupil, but Lily, whose recollections of her own dancing +days were not agreeable, absented herself entirely from the dancing-room, +even though Alethea Weston had come with her sister.<br> +<br> +Poor Phyllis danced as awkwardly as was expected, but Adeline seemed +likely to be a pupil in whom a master might rejoice; Marianne was very +attentive and not ungraceful, but Alethea soon saw reason to regret +the arrangement that had been made, for she perceived that Jane considered +the master a fair subject for derision, and her ‘nods and becks, +and wreathed smiles,’ called up corresponding looks in Marianne’s +face.<br> +<br> +‘Oh Brownie, you are a naughty thing!’ said Emily, as soon +as M. le Roi had departed.<br> +<br> +‘He really was irresistible!’<i> </i>said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘I suppose ridicule is one of the disagreeables to which a dancing-master +makes up his mind,’ said Alethea.<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Jane, ‘one can have no compunction in +quizzing that species.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not think I can quite say that, Jane,’ said Miss Weston.<br> +<br> +‘This man especially lays himself open to ridicule,’ said +Jane; ‘do you know, Alethea, that he is an Englishman, and his +name is King, only he calls himself Le Roi, and speaks broken English!’<br> +<br> +Though Alethea joined in the general laugh, she did not feel quite satisfied; +she feared that if not checked in time, Jane would proceed to actual +impertinence, and that Marianne would be tempted to follow her example, +but she did not like to interfere, and only advised Marianne to be on +her guard, hoping that Emily would also speak seriously to her sister.<br> +<br> +On the next occasion, however, Jane ventured still farther; her grimaces +were almost irresistible, and she had a most comical manner of imitating +the master’s attitudes when his eye was not upon her, and putting +on a demure countenance when he turned towards her, which sorely tried +Marianne.<br> +<br> +‘What shall I do, Alethea?’ said the little girl, as the +sisters walked home together; ‘I do not know how to help laughing, +if Jane will be so very funny.’<br> +<br> +‘I am afraid we must ask mamma to let us give up the dancing,’ +replied Alethea; ‘the temptation is almost too strong, and I do +not think she would wish to expose you to it.’<br> +<br> +‘But, Alethea, why do not you speak to Jane?’ asked Marianne; +‘no one seems to tell her it is wrong; Miss Mohun was almost laughing.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not think Jane would consider that I ought to find fault +with her,’ said Alethea.<br> +<br> +‘But you would not scold her,’ urged Marianne; ‘only +put her in mind that it is not right, not kind; that Monsieur le Roi +is in authority over her for the time.’<br> +<br> +‘I will speak to mamma,’ said Alethea, ‘perhaps it +will be better next time.’<br> +<br> +And it was better, for Mr. Mohun happening to be at home, was dragged +into the dancing-room by Emily and Ada. Once, when she thought +he was looking another way, Jane tried to raise a smile, but a stern +‘Jane, what are you thinking of?’ recalled her to order, +and when the lesson was over her father spoke gravely to her, telling +her that he thought few things more disgusting in a young lady than +impertinence towards her teachers; and then added, ‘Miss Weston, +I hope you keep strict watch over these giddy young things.’<br> +<br> +Awed by her father, Jane behaved tolerably well at that time and the +next, and Miss Weston hoped her interference would not be needed, but +as if to make up for this restraint, her conduct a fortnight after was +quite beyond bearing. She used every means to make Marianne laugh, +and at last went so far as to pretend to think that M. le Roi had not +understood what she said in English, and to translate it into French. +Poor Marianne looked imploringly at her sister, and Alethea hoped that +Emily would interpose, but Emily was turning away her head to conceal +a laugh, and Miss Weston was obliged to give Jane a very grave look, +which she perfectly understood, though she pretended not to see it. +When the exercise was over Miss Weston made her a sign to approach, +and said, ‘Jane, do you think your papa would have liked - ’<br> +<br> +‘What do you mean?’ said Jane, ‘I have not been laughing.’<br> +<br> +‘You know what I mean,’ said Alethea, ‘and pray do +not be displeased if I ask you not to make it difficult for Marianne +to behave properly.’<br> +<br> +Jane drew up her head and went back to her place. She played no +more tricks that day, but as soon as the guests were gone, began telling +Lilias how Miss Weston had been meddling and scolding her.<br> +<br> +‘And well you must have deserved it,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘I do not say that Jenny was right,’ said Emily, ‘but +I think Miss Weston might allow me to correct my own sister in my own +house.’<br> +<br> +‘You correct Jane!’ cried Lily, and Jane laughed.<br> +<br> +‘I only mean,’ said Emily, ‘that it was not very polite, +and papa says the closest friendship is no reason for dispensing with +the rules of politeness.’<br> +<br> +‘Certainly not,’ said Lily, ‘the rules of politeness +are rules of love, and it was in love that Alethea spoke; she sees how +sadly we are left to ourselves, and is kind enough to speak a word in +season.’<br> +<br> +‘Perhaps,’ said Jane, ‘since it was in love that she +spoke, you would like to have her for our reprover for ever, and I can +assure you more unlikely things have happened. I have heard it +from one who can judge.’<br> +<br> +‘Let me hear no more of this,’ said Emily, ‘it is +preposterous and ridiculous, and very disrespectful to papa.’<br> +<br> +Jane for once, rather shocked at her own words, went back to what had +been said just before.<br> +<br> +‘Then, perhaps, you would like to have Eleanor back again?’<br> +<br> +‘I am sure you want some one to put you in mind of your duty,’ +said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Eleanor and duty!’ cried Emily; ‘you who thought +so much of the power of love!’<br> +<br> +‘Of Emily and love, she would say, if it sounded well,’ +said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘I cannot see what true love you or Jane are showing now,’ +said Lily, ‘it is no kindness to encourage her pertness, or to +throw away a friendly reproof because it offends your pride.’<br> +<br> +‘Nobody reproved me,’ replied Emily; ‘besides, I know +love will prevail; for my sake Jane will not expose herself and me to +a stranger’s interference.’<br> +<br> +‘If you depend upon that, I wish you joy,’ said Lilias, +as she left the room.<br> +<br> +‘What a weathercock Lily is!’ cried Jane, ‘she has +fallen in love with Alethea Weston, and echoes all she says.’<br> +<br> +‘Not considering her own inconsistency,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘That Alethea Weston,’ exclaimed Jane, in an angry tone; +- but Emily, beginning to recover some sense of propriety, said, ‘Jenny, +you know you were very ill-bred, and you made it difficult for the little +ones to behave well.’<br> +<br> +‘Not our own little ones,’ said Jane; ‘honest Phyl +did not understand the joke, and Ada was thinking of her attitudes; +one comfort is, that I shall be confirmed in three weeks’ time, +and then people cannot treat me as a mere child - little as I am.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Jane,’ said Emily, ‘I do not like to hear +you talk of confirmation in that light way.’<br> +<br> +‘No, no,’ said Jane, ‘I do not mean it - of course +I do not mean it - don’t look shocked - it was only by the bye +- and another by the bye, Emily, you know I must have a cap and white +ribbons, and I am afraid I must make it myself.’<br> +<br> +‘Ay, that is the worst of having Esther,’ said Emily, ‘she +and Hannah have no notion of anything but the plainest work; I am sure +if I had thought of all the trouble of that kind which having a young +girl would entail, I would never have consented to Esther’s coming.’<br> +<br> +‘That was entirely Lily’s scheme,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Yes; it is impossible to resist Lily, she is so eager and anxious, +and it would have vexed her very much if I had opposed her, and that +I cannot bear; besides, Esther is a very nice girl, and will learn.’<br> +<br> +‘There is Robert talking to papa on the green,’ said Jane; +‘what a deep conference; what can it be about?’<br> +<br> +If Jane had heard that conversation she might have perceived that she +could not wilfully offend, even in what she thought a trifling matter, +without making it evident, even to others, that there was something +very wrong about her. At that moment the Rector was saying to +his uncle, ‘I am in doubt about Jane, I cannot but fear she is +not in a satisfactory state for confirmation, and I wished to ask you +what you think?’<br> +<br> +‘Act just as you would with any of the village girls,’ said +Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘I should be very sorry to do otherwise,’ said Mr. Devereux; +‘but I thought you might like, since every one knows that she +is a candidate, that she should not be at home at the time of the confirmation, +if it is necessary to refuse her.’<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘I should not wish to shield +her from the disgrace. It may be useful to her, and besides, it +will establish your character for impartiality. I have not been +satisfied with all I saw of little Jane for some time past, and I am +afraid that much passes amongst my poor girls which never comes to my +knowledge. Her pertness especially is probably restrained in my +presence.’<br> +<br> +‘It is not so much the pertness that I complain of,’ said +Mr. Devereux, ‘for that might be merely exuberance of spirits, +but there is a sort of habitual irreverence, which makes one dread to +bring her nearer to sacred tings.’<br> +<br> +‘I know what you mean,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘and I think +the pertness is a branch of it, more noticed because more inconvenient +to others.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Mr. Devereux, ‘I think the fault I speak +of is most evident; when there is occasion to reprove her, I am always +baffled by a kind of levity which makes every warning glance aside.’<br> +<br> +‘Then I should decidedly say refuse her,’ said Mr. Mohun. +‘It would be a warning that she could not disregard, and the best +chance of improving her.’<br> +<br> +‘Yet,’ said Mr. Devereux, ‘if she is eager for confirmation, +and regards it in its proper light, it is hard to say whether it is +right to deny it to her; it may give her the depth and earnestness which +she needs.’<br> +<br> +‘Poor child,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘she has great disadvantages; +I am quite sure our present system is not fit for her. Things +shall be placed on a different footing, and in another year or two I +hope she may be fitter for confirmation. However, before you finally +decide, I should wish to have some conversation with her, and speak +to you again.<br> +<br> +‘That is just what I wish,’ said Mr. Devereux.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XII - THE FEVER<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Jane borrowed maxims from a doubting school,<br> +And took for truth the test of ridicule.’<br> +<br> +The question of Jane’s confirmation was decided in an unexpected +manner; for the day after Mr. Mohun’s conversation with his nephew +she was attacked by a headache and sore throat, spent a feverish night, +and in the morning was so unwell that a medical man was sent for from +Raynham. On his arrival he pronounced that she was suffering from +scarlet fever, and Emily began to feel the approach of the same complaint.<br> +<br> +Phyllis and Adeline were shut up in the drawing-room, and a system of +quarantine established, which was happily brought to a conclusion by +a note from Mrs. Weston, who kindly begged that they might be sent to +her at Broomhill, and Mr. Mohun gladly availing himself of the offer, +the little girls set off, so well pleased to make a visit alone, as +almost to forget the occasion of it. Mrs. Weston had extended +her invitation to Lilias, but she begged to be allowed to remain with +her sisters, and Mr. Mohun thought that she had been already so much +exposed to the infection that it was useless for her to take any precautions.<br> +<br> +She was therefore declared head nurse; and it was well that she had +an energetic spirit, and so sweet a temper, that she was ready to sympathise +with all Emily’s petulant complaints, and even to find fault with +herself for not being in two places at once. Two of the maids +were ill, and the whole care of Emily and Jane devolved upon her, with +only the assistance of Esther.<br> +<br> +Emily was not very seriously ill, but Jane’s fever was very high, +and Lily thought that her father was more anxious than he chose to appear. +Of Jane’s own thoughts little could be guessed; she was often +delirious, and at all times speaking was so painful that she said as +little as possible.<br> +<br> +Lily’s troubles seemed at their height one Sunday afternoon, while +her father was at church. She had been reading the Psalms and +Lessons to Emily, and she then rose to return to Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Do not go,’ entreated Emily.<br> +<br> +‘I will send Esther.’<br> +<br> +‘Esther is of no use.’<br> +<br> +‘And therefore I do not like to leave her so long alone with Jane. +Pray spare me a little smile.’<br> +<br> +‘Then come back soon.’<br> +<br> +Lily was glad to escape with no more objections. She found Jane +complaining of thirst, but to swallow gave her great pain, and she required +so much attendance for some little time, that Emily’s bell was +twice rung before Esther could be spared to go to her.<br> +<br> +She soon came back, saying, ‘Miss Mohun wants you directly, Miss +Lilias.’<br> +<br> +‘Tell her I will come presently,’ said Lily, who had one +hand pressed on Jane’s burning temples, while the other was sprinkling +her with ether.<br> +<br> +‘Stay,’ said Jane, faintly, and Esther left the room.<br> +<br> +Jane drew her breath with so much difficulty that a dreadful terror +seized upon Lily, lest she should be suffocated. She raised her +head, and supported her till Esther could bring more pillows. +Esther brought a message from Emily to hasten her return; but Jane could +not be left, and the grateful look she gave her as she arranged the +pillows repaid her for all her toils. After a little time Jane +became more comfortable, and said in a whisper, ‘Dear Lily, I +wish I was not so troublesome.’<br> +<br> +Back came Esther at this moment, saying, ‘Miss Emily says she +is worse, and wants you directly, Miss Lilias.’<br> +<br> +Lily hurried away to Emily’s room, and found what might well have +tried her temper. Emily was flushed indeed, and feverish, but +her breathing was smooth and even, and her hand and pulse cool and slow, +compared with the parched burning hands, and throbbings, too quick to +count, which Lily had just been watching.<br> +<br> +‘Well, my dear Emily, I am sorry you do not feel better; what +can I do for you?’<br> +<br> +‘How can I be better while I am left so long, and Esther not coming +when I ring? What would happen if I were to faint away?’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed, I am very sorry,’ said Lily; ‘but when you +rang, poor Jenny could spare neither of us.’<br> +<br> +‘How is poor Jenny?’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Her throat is very bad, but she is quite sensible now, and wishes +to have me there. What did you want, Emily?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! I wish you would draw the curtain, the light hurts +me; that will do - no - now it is worse, pray put it as it was before. +Oh! Lily, if you knew how ill I am you would not leave me.’<br> +<br> +‘Can I do anything for you - will you have some coffee?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! no, it has a bad taste, I am sure it is carelessly made.’<br> +<br> +‘Shall I make you some fresh, with the spirit lamp?’<br> +<br> +‘No, I am tired of it. I wonder if I might have some tamarinds?’<br> +<br> +‘I will ask as soon as papa comes from church.’<br> +<br> +‘Is he gone to church? how could he go when we are all so ill?’<br> +<br> +‘Perhaps he was doing us more good at church than he could at +home. You will be glad to hear, Emily, that he has sent for Rachel +to come and help us.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! has he? but she lives so far off, and gets her letters so +seldom, I don’t reckon at all upon her coming. If she could +come directly it would be a comfort.’<br> +<br> +‘It would, indeed,’ said Lily; ‘she would know what +to do for Jane.’<br> +<br> +‘Lily, where is the ether? You are always taking it away.’<br> +<br> +‘In Jane’s room; I will fetch it.’<br> +<br> +‘No, no, if you once get into Jane’s room I shall never +see you back again.’<br> +<br> +Now Emily knew that Jane was very ill, and Lily’s pale cheeks, +heavy eyes, and failing voice, might have reminded her that two sick +persons were a heavy charge upon a girl of seventeen, without the addition +of her caprices and fretfulness. And how was it that the kind-hearted, +affectionate Emily never thought of all this? It was because she +had been giving way to selfishness for nineteen years; and now the contemplation +of her own sufferings was quite enough to hide from her that others +had much to bear; and illness, instead of teaching her patience and +consideration, only made her more exacting and querulous.<br> +<br> +To Lily’s unspeakable relief, Miss Weston accompanied Mr. Mohun +from church, and offered to share her attendance. No one knew +what it cost Alethea to come into the midst of a scene which constantly +reminded her of the sisters she had lost, but she did not shrink from +it, and was glad that her parents saw no objection to her offering to +share Lily’s toils. Her experience was most valuable, and +relieved Lilias of the fear that was continually haunting her, lest +her ignorance might lead to some fatal mistake. The next day brought +Rachel, and both patients began to mend. Jane’s recovery +was quicker than Emily’s, for her constitution was not so languid, +and having no pleasure in the importance of being an invalid, she was +willing to exert herself, and make the best of everything, while Emily +did not much like to be told that she was better, and thought it cruel +to hint that exertion would benefit her. Both were convalescent +before the fever attacked Lily, who was severely ill, but not alarmingly +so, and her gentleness and patience made Alethea delight in having the +care of her. Lily was full of gratitude to her kind friend, and +felt quite happy when Alethea chanced one day to call her by the name +of Emma; she almost hoped she was taking the place of that sister, and +the thought cheered her through many languid hours, and gave double +value to all Alethea’s kindness. She did not feel disposed +to repine at an illness which brought out such affection from her friend, +and still more from her father, who, when he came to see her, would +say things which gave her a thrill of pleasure whenever she thought +of them.<br> +<br> +It happened one day that Jane, having finished her book, looked round +for some other occupation; she knew that Miss Weston had walked to Broomhill; +Rachael was with Lilias, and there was no amusement at hand. At +last she recollected that her papa had said in the morning, that he +hoped to see her and Emily in the schoolroom in the course of the day, +and hoping to meet her sister, she resolved to try and get there. +The room had been Mr. Mohun’s sitting-room since the beginning +of their illness, and it looked so very comfortable that she was glad +she had come, though she was so tired she wondered how she should get +back again. Emily was not there, so she lay down on the sofa and +took up a little book from the table. The title was <i>Susan Harvey, +or Confirmation, </i>and she read it with more interest as she remembered +with a pang that this was the day of the confirmation, to which she +had been invited; she soon found herself shedding tears over the book, +she who had never yet been known to cry at any story, however affecting. +She had not finished when Mr. Devereux came in to look for Mr. Mohun, +and finding her there, was going away as soon as he had congratulated +her on having left her room, but she begged him to stay, and began asking +questions about the confirmation.<br> +<br> +‘Were there many people?’<br> +<br> +‘Three hundred.’<br> +<br> +‘Did the Stoney Bridge people make a disturbance?’<br> +<br> +‘No.’<br> +<br> +‘How many of our people?’<br> +<br> +‘Twenty-seven.’<br> +<br> +‘Did all the girls wear caps?’<br> +<br> +‘Most of them.’<br> +<br> +Jane was rather surprised at the shortness of her cousin’s answers, +but she went on, as he stood before the fire, apparently in deep thought.<br> +<br> +‘Was Miss Burnet confirmed? She is the dullest girl I ever +knew, and she is older than I am. Was she confused?’<br> +<br> +‘She was.’<br> +<br> +‘Did you give Mary Wright a ticket?’<br> +<br> +‘No.’<br> +<br> +‘Then, of course, you did not give one to Ned Long. I thought +you would never succeed in making him remember which is the ninth commandment.’<br> +<br> +‘I did not refuse him.’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed! did he improve in a portentous manner?’<br> +<br> +‘Not particularly.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, you must have been more merciful than I expected.’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed!’<br> +<br> +‘Robert, you must have lost the use of your tongue, for want of +us to talk to. I shall be affronted if you go into a brown study +the first day of seeing me.’<br> +<br> +He smiled in a constrained manner, and after a few minutes said, ‘I +have been considering whether this is a fit time to tell you what will +give you pain. You must tell me if you can bear it.’<br> +<br> +‘About Lily, or the little ones?’<br> +<br> +‘No, no! only about yourself. Your father wished me to speak +to you, but I would not have done so on this first meeting, but what +you have just been saying makes me think this is the best occasion.’<br> +<br> +‘Let me know; I do not like suspense,’ said Jane, sharply.<br> +<br> +‘I think it right to tell you, Jane, that neither your father +nor I thought it would be desirable for you to be confirmed at this +time.’<br> +<br> +‘Do you really mean it?’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Look back on the past year, and say if you sincerely think you +are fit for confirmation.’<br> +<br> +‘As to that,’ said Jane, ‘the best people are always +saying that they are not fit for these things.’<br> +<br> +‘None can call themselves worthy of them; but I think the conscience +of some would bear them witness that they had profited so far by their +present means of grace as to give grounds for hoping that they would +derive benefit from further assistance.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, I suppose I must be very bad, since you see it,’ +said Jane, in a manner rather more subdued; ‘but I did not think +myself worse than other people.’<br> +<br> +‘Is a Christian called, only to be no worse than others?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh no! I see, I mean - pray tell me my great fault. +Pertness, I suppose - love of gossip?’<br> +<br> +‘There must be a deeper root of evil, of which these are but the +visible effects, Jane.’<br> +<br> +‘What do you mean, Robert?’ said Jane, now seeming really +impressed.<br> +<br> +‘I think, Jane, that the greatest and most dangerous fault of +your character is want of reverence. I think it is want of reverence +which makes you press forward to that for which you confess yourself +unfit; it is want of reverence for holiness which makes you not care +to attain it; want of reverence for the Holy Word that makes you treat +it as a mere lesson; and in smaller matters your pertness is want of +reverence for your superiors; you would not be ready to believe and +to say the worst of others, if you reverenced what good there may be +in them. Take care that your want of reverence is not in reality +want of faith.’<br> +<br> +Jane’s spirits were weak and subdued. It was a great shock +to her to hear that she was not thought worthy of confirmation; her +faults had never been called by so hard a name; she was in part humbled, +and in part grieved, and what she thought harshness in her cousin; she +turned away her face, and did not speak. He continued, ‘Jane, +you must not think me unkind, your father desired me to talk to you, +and, indeed, the time of recovery from sickness is too precious to be +trifled away.’<br> +<br> +Jane wept bitterly. Presently he said, ‘It grieves me to +have been obliged to speak harshly to you, you must forgive me if I +have talked too much to you, Jane.’<br> +<br> +Jane tried to speak, but sobs prevented her, and she gave way to a violent +fit of crying. Her cousin feared he had been unwise in saying +so much, and had weakened the effect of his own words. He would +have been glad to see tears of repentance, but he was afraid that she +was weeping over fancied unkindness, and that he might have done what +might be hurtful to her in her weak state. He said a few kind +words, and tried to console her, but this change of tone rather added +to her distress, and she became hysterical. He was much vexed +and alarmed, and, ringing the bell, hastened to call assistance. +He found Esther, and sent her to Jane, and on returning to the schoolroom +with some water, he found her lying exhausted on the sofa; he therefore +went in search of his uncle, who was overlooking some farming work, +and many were the apologies made, and many the assurances he received, +that it would be better for her in the end, as the impression would +be more lasting.<br> +<br> +Jane was scarcely conscious of her cousin’s departure, or of Esther’s +arrival, but after drinking some water, and lying still for a few moments, +she exclaimed, ‘Oh, Robert! oh, Esther! the confirmation!’ +and gasped and sobbed again. Esther thought she had guessed the +cause of her tears, and tried to comfort her.<br> +<br> +‘Ah! Miss Jane, there will be another confirmation some day; it +was a sad thing you were too ill, to be sure, but - ’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! if I had - if he would not say - if he had thought me fit.’<br> +<br> +Esther was amazed, and asked if she should call Miss Weston, who was +now with Lilias.<br> +<br> +‘No, no!’ cried Jane, nearly relapsing into hysterics. +‘She shall not see me in this state.’<br> +<br> +Esther hardly knew what to do, but she tried to soothe and comfort her +by following what was evidently the feeling predominating in Jane’s +mind, as indicated by her broken sentences, and said, ‘It was +a pity, to be sure, that Mr. Devereux came and talked so long, he could +not know of your being so very weak, Miss Jane.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Jane, faintly, ‘I could have borne it +better if he had waited a few days.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, Miss, when you had not been so very ill. Mr. Devereux +is a very good gentleman, but they do say he is very sharp.’<br> +<br> +‘He means to be kind,’ said Jane, ‘but I do not think +he has much consideration, always.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, Miss Jane, that is just what Mrs. White said, when - ’<br> +<br> +Esther’s speech was cut short by the entrance of Miss Weston. +Jane started up, dashed off her tears, and tried to look as usual, but +the paleness of her face, and the redness of her eyes, made this impossible, +and she was obliged to lie down again. Esther left the room, and +Miss Weston did not feel intimate enough with Jane to ask any questions; +she gave her some <i>sal volatile, </i>talked kindly to her of her weakness, +and offered to read to her; all the time leaving an opening for confidence, +if Jane wished to relieve her mind. The book which lay near her +accounted, as she thought, for her agitation, and she blamed herself +for having judged her harshly as deficient in feeling, now that she +found her so much distressed, because illness had prevented her confirmation. +Under this impression she honoured her reserve, while she thought with +more affection of Lily’s open heart. Jane, who never took, +or expected others to take, the most favourable view of people’s +motives, thought Alethea knew the cause of her distress, and disliked +her the more, as having witnessed her humiliation.<br> +<br> +Such was Jane’s love of gossip that the next time she was alone +with Esther she asked for the history of Mrs. White, thus teaching her +maid disrespect to her pastor, indirectly complaining of his unkindness, +and going far to annul the effect of what she had learnt at school. +Perhaps during her hysterics Jane’s conduct was not under control, +but subsequent silence was in her power, and could she be free from +blame if Esther’s faults gained greater ascendency?<br> +<br> +The next day Mr. Mohun attempted to speak to Jane, but being both frightened +and unhappy, she found it very easy and natural, as well as very convenient, +to fall into hysterics again, and her father was obliged to desist, +regretting that, at the only time she was subdued enough to listen to +reproof, she was too weak to bear it without injury. Rachel, who +was nearly as despotic among the young ladies as she had been in former +times in the nursery, now insisted on Emily’s going into the schoolroom, +and when there, she made rapid progress. Alethea was amused to +see how Jane’s decided will and lively spirit would induce Emily +to make exertions, which no persuasions of hers could make her think +other than impossible.<br> +<br> +A few days more, and they were nearly well again; and Lilias so far +recovered as to be able to spare her kind friend, who returned home +with a double portion of Lily’s love, and of deep gratitude from +Mr. Mohun; but these feelings were scarcely expressed in words. +Emily gave her some graceful thanks, and Jane disliked her more than +ever.<br> +<br> +It was rather a dreary time that now commenced with the young ladies; +they were tired of seeing the same faces continually, and dispirited +by hearing that the fever was spreading in the village. The autumn +was far advanced, the weather was damp and gloomy, and the sisters sat +round the fire shivering with cold, feeling the large room dreary and +deserted, missing the merry voices of the children, and much tormented +by want of occupation. They could not go out, their hands were +not steady enough to draw, they felt every letter which they had to +write a heavy burden; neither Emily nor Lily could like needlework; +they could have no music, for the piano at the other end of the room +seemed to be in an Arctic Region, and they did little but read novels +and childish stories, and play at chess or backgammon. Jane was +the best off. Mrs. Weston sent her a little sock, with a request +that she would make out the way in which it was knit, in a complicated +feathery pattern, and in puzzling over her cotton, taking stitches up +and letting them down, she made the time pass a little less heavily +with her than with her sisters.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XIII - A CURIOSITY MAP<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Keek into the draw-well,<br> + Janet, Janet,<br> +There ye’ll see your bonny sell,<br> + My jo Janet.’<br> +<br> +It was at this time that Lady Rotherwood and her daughter arrived at +Devereux Castle, and Mr. Mohun was obliged to go to meet her there, +leaving his three daughters to spend a long winter evening by themselves, +in their doleful and dismal way, as Lily called it.<br> +<br> +The evening had closed in, but they did not ring for candles, lest they +should make it seem longer; and Jane was just beginning to laugh at +Emily for the deplorable state of her frock and collar, tumbled with +lying on the sofa, when the three girls all started at the unexpected +sound of a ring at the front door.<br> +<br> +With a rapid and joyful suspicion who it might be, Emily and Lilias +sprang to the door, Jane thrust the poker into the fire, in a desperate +attempt to produce a flame, drove an arm-chair off the hearth-rug, whisked +an old shawl out of sight, and flew after them into the hall, just as +the deep tones of a well-known voice were heard greeting old Joseph.<br> +<br> +‘William!’ cried the girls. ‘Oh! is it you? +Are you not afraid of the scarlet fever?’<br> +<br> +‘No, who has it?’<br> +<br> +‘We have had it, but we are quite well now. How cold you +are!’<br> +<br> +‘But where is my father?’<br> +<br> +‘Gone to Hetherington with Robert, to meet Aunt Rotherwood. +Come into the drawing-room.’<br> +<br> +Here Emily glided off to perform a hurried toilette.<br> +<br> +‘And the little ones?’<br> +<br> +‘At Broomhill. Mrs. Weston was so kind as to take them out +of the way of the infection,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! William, those Westons!’<br> +<br> +‘Westons, what Westons? Not those I knew at Brighton?’<br> +<br> +‘The very same,’ said Lily. ‘They have taken +the house at Broomhill. Oh! they have been so very kind, I do +not know what would have become of us without Alethea.’<br> +<br> +‘Why did you not tell me they were living here? And you +like them?’<br> +<br> +‘Like them! No one can tell the comfort Alethea has been. +She came to us and nursed us, and has been my great support.’<br> +<br> +‘And Phyllis and Ada are with them?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, they have been at Broomhill these six weeks, and more.’<br> +<br> +Here Emily came in and told William that his room was ready, and Rachel +on the stairs wishing to see the Captain.<br> +<br> +‘How well he looks!’ cried Lily, as he closed the door; +‘it is quite refreshing to see any one looking so strong and bright.’<br> +<br> +‘And more like Sir Maurice than ever,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Ah! but Claude is more like,’ said Lily, ‘because +he is pale.’<br> +<br> +‘Well,’ said Jane, ‘do let us in the meantime make +the room look more fit to be seen before he comes down.’<br> +<br> +The alacrity which had long been wanting to Lilias and Jane had suddenly +returned, and they succeeded in making the room look surprisingly comfortable, +compared with its former desolate aspect, before William came down, +and renewed his inquiries after all the family.<br> +<br> +‘And how is my father’s deafness?’<i> </i>was one +of his questions.<br> +<br> +‘Worse,’ said Emily. ‘I am afraid all the younger +ones will learn to vociferate. He hears no one well but ourselves.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! and Alethea Weston,’ said Lily. ‘Her voice +is so clear and distinct, that she hardly ever raises it to make him +hear. And have you ever heard her sing?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, she sings very well. I cannot think why you never +told me they were living here.’<br> +<br> +‘Because you never honour us with your correspondence,’ +said Emily; ‘if you had vouchsafed to write to your sisters you +could not have escaped hearing of the Westons.’<br> +<br> +‘And has Mr. Weston given up the law?’<br> +<br> +‘No, he only came home in the vacation,’ said Emily. +‘Did you know they had lost two daughters?’<br> +<br> +‘I saw it in the paper. Emma and Lucy were nice girls, but +not equal to Miss Weston. What a shock to Mrs. Weston!’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, she quite lost her health, and the doctors said she must +move into the country directly. Mrs. Carrington, who is some distant +connection, told them of this place, and they took it rather hastily.’<br> +<br> +‘Do they like it?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh yes, very much!’ said Emily. ‘Mrs. Weston +is very fond of the garden, and drives about in the pony-carriage, and +it is quite pleasant to see how she admires the views.’<br> +<br> +‘And,’ added Lily, ‘Alethea walks with us, and sings +with me, and teaches at school, and knows all the poor people.’<br> +<br> +‘I must go and see those children to-morrow,’ said William.<br> +<br> +The evening passed very pleasantly; and perhaps, in truth, Captain Mohun +and his sisters were surprised to find each other so agreeable; for, +in the eyes of the young ladies, he was by far the most awful person +in the family.<br> +<br> +When he had been last at home Harry’s recent death had thrown +a gloom over the whole family, and he had especially missed him. +Himself quick, sensible, clever, and active, he was intolerant of opposite +qualities, and the principal effect of that visit to Beechcroft was +to make all the younger ones afraid of him, to discourage poor Claude, +and to give to himself a gloomy remembrance of that home which had lost +its principal charms in his mother and Harry.<br> +<br> +He had now come home rather from a sense of duty than an expectation +of pleasure, and he was quite surprised to find how much more attractive +the New Court had become. Emily and Lilias were now conversible +and intelligent companions, better suited to him than Eleanor had ever +been, and he had himself in these four years acquired a degree of gentleness +and consideration which prevented him from appearing so unapproachable +as in days of old. This was especially the case with regard to +Claude, whose sensitive and rather timid nature had in his childhood +suffered much from William’s boyish attempts to make him manly, +and as he grew older, had almost felt himself despised; but now William +appreciated his noble qualities, and was anxious to make amends for +his former unkindness.<br> +<br> +Claude came home from Oxford, not actually ill, but in the ailing condition +in which he often was, just weak enough to give his sisters a fair excuse +for waiting upon him, and petting him all day long. About the +same time Phyllis and Adeline came back from Broomhill, and there was +great joy at the New Court at the news that Mrs. Hawkesworth was the +happy mother of a little boy.<br> +<br> +Claude was much pleased by being asked by Eleanor to be godfather to +his little nephew, whose name was to be Henry. Perhaps he hoped, +what Lilias was quite sure of, that Eleanor did not think him unworthy +to stand in Harry’s place.<br> +<br> +The choice of the other sponsors did not meet with universal approbation. +Emily thought it rather hard that Mr. Hawkesworth’s sister, Mrs. +Ridley, should have been chosen before herself, and both she and Ada +would have greatly preferred either Lord Rotherwood, Mr. Devereux, or +William, to Mr. Ridley, while Phyllis had wanderings of her own how +Claude could be godfather without being present at the christening.<br> +<br> +One evening Claude was writing his answer to Eleanor, sitting at the +sofa table where a small lamp was burning. Jane, attracted by +its bright and soft radiance, came and sat down opposite to him with +her work.<br> +<br> +‘What a silence!’ said Lily, after about a quarter of an +hour.<br> +<br> +‘What made you start, Jane?’ said William.<br> +<br> +‘Did I?’<i> </i>said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘My speaking, I suppose,’ said Lily, ‘breaking the +awful spell of silence.’<br> +<br> +‘How red you look, Jane. What is the matter?’ said +William.<br> +<br> +‘Do I?’ asked Jane, becoming still redder.<br> +<br> +‘It is holding your face down over that baby’s hood,’ +said Emily, ‘you will sacrifice the colour of your nose to your +nephew.’<br> +<br> +Claude now asked Jane for the sealing-wax, folded up his letter, sealed +it, put on a stamp, and as Jane was leaving the room at bedtime, said, +‘Jenny, my dear, as you go by, just put that letter in the post-bag.’<br> +<br> +Jane obeyed, and left the room. Claude soon after took the letter +out of the bag, went to Emily’s door, listened to ascertain that +Jane was not there, and then knocked and was admitted.<br> +<br> +‘I could not help coming,’ said he, ‘to tell you of +the trap in which Brownie has been caught.’<br> +<br> +‘Ah!’ said Lily, ‘I fancied I saw her peeping slyly +at your letter.’<br> +<br> +‘Just so,’ said Claude, ‘and I hope she has experienced +the truth of an old proverb.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! tell us what you have said,’ cried the sisters.<br> +<br> +Claude read, ‘Jane desires me to say that a hood for the baby +shall be sent in the course of a week, and she hopes that it may be +worn at the christening. I should rather say I hope it may be +lost in the transit, for assuredly the head that it covers must be infected +with something far worse than the scarlet fever - the fever of curiosity, +the last quality which I should like my godson to possess. My +only consolation is, that he will see the full deformity of the vice, +as, poor little fellow, he becomes acquainted with “that worst +of plagues, a prying maiden aunt.” If Jane was simply curious, +I should not complain, but her love of investigation is not directed +to what ought to be known, but rather to find out some wretched subject +for petty scandal, to blacken every action, and to add to the weight +of every misdeed, and all for the sake of detailing her discoveries +in exchange for similar information with Mrs. Appleton, or some equally +suitable confidante.’<br> +<br> +‘Is that all?’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘And enough, too, I hope,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘It ought to cure her!’<i> </i>cried Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Cure her!’ said Claude, ‘no such thing; cures are +not wrought in this way; this is only a joke, and to keep it up, I will +tell you a piece of news, which Jane must have spied out in my letter, +as I had just written it when I saw her eyes in a suspicious direction. +It was settled that Messieurs Maurice and Redgie are to go for two hours +a day, three times a week, to Mr. Stevens, during the holidays.’<br> +<br> +‘The new Stoney Bridge curate?’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘I am very glad you are not to be bored by them,’ said Lily, +‘but how they will dislike it!’<br> +<br> +‘It is very hard upon them,’ said Claude, ‘and I tried +to prevent it, but the Baron was quite determined. Now I will +begin to talk about this plan, and see whether Jenny betrays any knowledge +of it.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! it will be rare!’<i> </i>cried Lily; ‘but do +not speak of it before the Baron or William.’<br> +<br> +‘Let it be at luncheon,’ said Emily, ‘you know they +never appear. Do you mean to send the letter?’<br> +<br> +‘Not that part of it,’ said Claude, ‘you see I can +tear off the last page, and it is only to add a new conclusion. +Good-night.’<br> +<br> +Jane had certainly not spent the evening in an agreeable manner; she +had not taken her seat at Claude’s table with any evil designs +towards his letter, but his writing was clear and legible, and her eye +caught the word ‘Maurice;’ she wished to know what Claude +could be saying about him, and having once begun, she could not leave +off, especially when she saw her own name. When aware of the compliments +he was paying her, she looked at him, but his eyes were fixed on his +pen, and no smile, no significant expression betrayed that he was aware +of her observations; and even when he gave her the letter to put into +the post-bag he looked quite innocent and unconcerned. On the +other hand, she did not like to think that he had been sending such +a character of her to Eleanor in sober sadness; it was impossible to +find out whether he had sent the letter; she could not venture to beg +him to keep it back, she could only trust to his good-nature.<br> +<br> +At luncheon, as they had agreed, Lily began by asking where her papa +and William were gone? Claude answered, ‘To Stoney Bridge, +to call upon Mr. Stevens; they mean to ask him to dine one day next +week, to be introduced to his pupils.’<br> +<br> +‘Is he an Oxford or Cambridge man?’ asked Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Oxford,’ exclaimed Jane, quite forgetting whence she had +derived her information, ‘he is a fellow of - ’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed?’ said Lily; ‘how do you know that?’<br> +<br> +‘Why, we have all been talking of him lately,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Not I,’ said Emily, ‘why should he interest us?’<br> +<br> +‘Because he is to tutor the boys,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘When did you hear that he is to tutor the boys?’ asked +Lily.<br> +<br> +‘When you did, I suppose,’ said Jane, blushing.<br> +<br> +‘You did, did you?’ said Claude. ‘I feel convinced, +if so, that you must really be what you are so often called, a changeling. +I heard it, or rather read it first at Oxford, where the Baron desired +me to make inquiries about him. You were, doubtless, looking over +my shoulder at the moment. This is quite a discovery. We +shall have to perform a brewery of egg-shells this evening, and put +the elf to flight with a red-hot poker, and what a different sister +Jane we shall recover, instead of this little mischief-making sprite, +so quiet, so reserved, never intruding her opinion, showing constant +deference to all her superiors - yes, and to her inferiors, shutting +her eyes to the faults of others, and when they come before her, trying +to shield the offender from those who regard them as merely exciting +news.’<br> +<br> +Claude’s speech had become much more serious than he intended, +and he felt quite guilty when he had finished, so that it was not at +all an undesirable interruption when Phyllis and Adeline asked for the +story of the brewery of egg-shells.<br> +<br> +Emily and Lilias kindly avoided looking at Jane, who, after fidgeting +on her chair and turning very red, succeeded in regaining outward composure. +She resolved to let the matter die away, and think no more about it.<br> +<br> +When Mr. Mohun and William came home, they brought the news that Lady +Rotherwood had invited the whole party to dinner.<br> +<br> +‘I am very glad we are allowed to see them,’ said Emily, +‘I am quite tired of being shut up.’<br> +<br> +‘If it was not for the Westons we might as well live in Nova Zembla,’ +said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘I am glad you damsels should know a little more of Florence,’ +said Mrs. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Claude, ‘cousins were made to be friends.’<br> +<br> +‘In that case one ought to be able to choose them,’ said +William.<br> +<br> +‘And know them,’ said Emily. ‘We have not seen +Florence since she was eleven years old.’<br> +<br> +‘Cousin or not,’ said Lilias, ‘Florence can hardly +be so much my friend as Alethea.’<br> +<br> +‘Right, Lily,’ said William, ‘stand up for old friends +against all the cousins in the universe.’<br> +<br> +‘Has Alethea a right to be called an old friend?’ said Emily; +‘does three quarters of a year make friendship venerable?’<br> +<br> +‘No one can deny that she is a tried friend,’ said Lilias.<br> +<br> +‘But pray, good people,’ said Claude, ‘what called +forth those vows of eternal constancy? why was my innocent general observation +construed into an attack upon Miss Weston?’<br> +<br> +‘Because there is something invidious in your tone,’ said +Lily.<br> +<br> +‘What kind of girl is that Florence?’<i> </i>asked William.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! a nice, lively, pleasant girl,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘I cannot make out what her pursuits are,’ said Lily; ‘Rotherwood +never talks of her reading anything.’<br> +<br> +‘She has been governessed and crammed till she is half sick of +all reading,’ said Claude, ‘of all study - ay, and all accomplishments.’<br> +<br> +‘So that is the friend you recommend, Lily!’<i> </i>said +William.<br> +<br> +‘Well, Claude, that is what I call a great shame,’ said +Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Stay,’ said Claude, ‘you have heard but half my story, +I say that this is the reaction. Florence has no lack of sense, +and if you young ladies are wise, you may help her to find the use of +it.’<br> +<br> +Claude’s further opinion did not transpire, as dinner was announced, +and nothing more was said about Lady Florence till the girls had an +opportunity of judging for themselves. She had a good deal of +her brother’s vivacity, with gentleness and grace, which made +her very engaging, and her perfect recollection of the New Court, and +of childish days, charmed her cousins. Lady Rotherwood was very +kind and affectionate, and held out hopes of many future meetings. +The next day Maurice and Reginald came home from school, bringing a +better character for diligence than usual, on which they founded hopes +that the holidays would be left to their own disposal. They were +by no means pleased with the arrangement made with Mr. Stevens and most +unwillingly did they undertake the expedition to Stony Bridge, performing +the journey in a very unsociable manner. Maurice was no horseman, +and chose to jog on foot through three miles of lane, while Reginald’s +pony cantered merrily along, its master’s head being intent upon +the various winter sports in which William and Lord Rotherwood allowed +him to share. Little did Maurice care for such diversions; he +was, as Adeline said, studying another ‘apology.’ +This time it was phrenology, for which the cropped heads of Lilias and +Jane afforded unusual facility. There was, however, but a limited +supply of heads willing to be fingered, and Maurice returned to the +most abiding of his tastes, and in an empty room at the Old Court laboured +assiduously to find the secret of perpetual motion.<br> +<br> +A few days before Christmas Rachel Harvey again took leave of Beechcroft, +with a promise that she would make them another visit when Eleanor came +home. Before she went she gave Emily a useful caution, telling +her it was not right to trust her keys out of her own possession. +It was what Miss Mohun never would have done, she had never once committed +them even to Rachel.<br> +<br> +‘With due deference to Eleanor,’ said Emily, with her winning +smile, ‘we must allow that that was being over cautious.’<br> +<br> +Rachel smiled, but her lecture was not averted by the compliment.<br> +<br> +‘It might have been very well since you have known me, Miss Emily, +but I do not know what would have come of it, if I had been too much +trusted when I was a giddy young thing like Esther; that girl comes +of a bad lot, and if anything is to be made of her, it is by keeping +temptation out of her way, and not letting her be with that mother of +hers.’<br> +<br> +Rachel had rather injured the effect of her advice by behaving too like +a mistress during her visit; Emily had more than once wished that all +servants were not privileged people, and she was more offended than +convinced by the remonstrance.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XIV - CHRISTMAS<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + ‘Slee, sla, slud,<br> + Stuck in the mud,<br> +O! it is pretty to wade through a flood,<br> + Come, wheel round,<br> + The dirt we have found,<br> +Would he an estate at a farthing a pound.’<br> +<br> +Lily’s illness interrupted her teaching at the village school +for many weeks, and she was in no great haste to resume it. Alethea +Weston seemed to enjoy doing all that was required, and Lily left it +in her hands, glad to shut her eyes as much as possible to the disheartening +state the parish had been in ever since her former indiscretion.<br> +<br> +The approach of Christmas, however, made it necessary for her to exert +herself a little more, and her interest in parish matters revived as +she distributed the clothing-club goods, and in private conference with +each good dame, learnt the wants of her family. But it was sad +to miss several names struck out of the list for non-attendance at church; +and when Mrs. Eden came for her child’s clothing, Lily remarked +that the articles she chose were unlike those of former years, the cheapest +and coarsest she could find.<br> +<br> +St. Thomas’s day was marked by the custom, called at Beechcroft +‘gooding.’ Each mother of a family came to all the +principal houses in the parish to receive sixpence, towards providing +a Christmas dinner, and it was Lily’s business to dispense this +dole at the New Court. With a long list of names and a heap of +silver before her, she sat at the oaken table by the open chimney in +the hall, returning a nod or a smiling greeting to the thanks of the +women as they came, one by one, to receive the little silver coins, +and warm themselves by the glowing wood fire.<br> +<br> +Pleasant as the task was at first, it ended painfully. Agnes Eden +appeared, in order to claim the double portion allotted to her mother, +as a widow. This was the first time that Mrs. Eden had asked for +the gooding-money, and Lily knew that it was a sign that she must be +in great distress. Agnes made her a little courtesy, and crept +away again as soon as she had received her shilling; but Mrs. Grey, +who was Mrs. Eden’s neighbour, had not quite settled her penny-club +affairs, and remained a little longer. An unassuming and lightly-principled +person was Mrs. Grey, and Lily enjoyed a talk with her, while she was +waiting for the purple stuff frock which Jane was measuring off for +Kezia. They spoke of the children, and of a few other little matters, +and presently something was said about Mrs. Eden; Lily asked if the +blacksmith helped her.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! no, Miss Lilias, he will do nothing for her while she sends +her child to school and to church. He will not speak to her even. +Not a bit of butter, nor a morsel of bacon, has been in her house since +Michaelmas, and what she would have done if it was not for Mr. Devereux +and Mrs. Weston, I cannot think.’<br> +<br> +Lilias, much shocked by this account of the distress into which she +and Jane had been the means of bringing the widow, reported it to her +father and to the Rector; entreating the former to excuse her rent, +which he willingly promised to do, and also desired his daughters to +give her a blanket, and tell her to come to dine house whenever any +broth was to be given away. Mr. Devereux, who already knew of +her troubles, and allowed her a small sum weekly, now told his cousins +how much the Greys had assisted her. Andrew Grey had dug up and +housed her winter’s store of potatoes, he had sought work for +her, and little Agnes often shared the meals of his children. +The Greys had a large family, very young, so that all that they did +for her was the fruit of self-denial. Innumerable were the kindnesses +which they performed unknown to any but the widow and her child. +More, by a hundred times, did they assist her, than the thoughtless +girls who had occasioned her sufferings, though Lily was not the only +one who felt that nothing was too much for them to do. Nothing, +perhaps, would have been too much, except to bear her in mind and steadily +aid her in little things; but Lily took no account of little things, +talked away her feelings, and thus all her grand resolutions produced +almost nothing. Lord Rotherwood sent Mrs. Eden a sovereign, the +girls newly clothed little Agnes, Phyllis sometimes carried her the +scraps of her dinner, Mrs. Eden once came to work at the New Court, +and a few messes of broth were given to her, but in general she was +forgotten, and when remembered, indolence or carelessness too often +prevented the Miss Mohuns from helping her. In Emily’s favourite +phrase, each individual thing was ‘not worth while.’<br> +<br> +When Lilias did think it ‘worth while,’ she would do a great +deal upon impulse, sometimes with more zeal than discretion, as she +proved by an expedition which she took on Christmas Eve. Mr. Mohun +did not allow the poor of the village to depend entirely on the gooding +for their Christmas dinner, but on the 24th of December a large mess +of excellent beef broth was prepared at the New Court, and distributed +to all his own labourers, and the most respectable of the other cottagers.<br> +<br> +In the course of the afternoon Lily found that one portion had not been +given out. It was that which was intended for the Martins, a poor +old rheumatic couple, who lived at South End, the most distant part +of the parish. Neither of them could walk as far as the New Court, +and most of their neighbours had followed Farmer Gage, and had therefore +been excluded from the distribution, so that there was no one to send. +Lily, therefore, resolved herself to carry the broth to them, if she +could find an escort, which was not an easy matter, as the frost had +that morning broken up, and a good deal of snow and rain had been falling +in the course of the day. In the hall she met Reginald, just turned +out of Maurice’s workshop, and much at a loss for employment.<br> +<br> +‘Redgie,’ said she, ‘you can do me a great kindness.’<br> +<br> +‘If it is not a bore,’ returned Reginald.<br> +<br> +‘I only want you to walk with me to South End.’<br> +<br> +‘Eh?’ said Reginald; ‘I thought the little Misses +were too delicate to put their dear little proboscises outside the door.’<br> +<br> +‘That is the reason I ask you; I do not think Emily or Jane would +like it, and it is too far for Claude. Those poor old Martins +have not got their broth, and there is no one to fetch it for them.’<br> +<br> +‘Then do not be half an hour putting on your things.’<br> +<br> +‘Thank you; and do not run off, and make me spend an hour in hunting +for you, and then say that I made you wait.’<br> +<br> +‘I will wait fast enough. You are not so bad as Emily,’ +said Reginald, while Lily ran upstairs to equip herself. When +she came down, she was glad to find her escort employed in singeing +the end of the tail of the old rocking-horse at the fire in the hall, +so that she was not obliged to seek him in the drawing-room, where her +plans would probably have met with opposition. She had, however, +objections to answer from an unexpected quarter. Reginald was +much displeased when she took possession of the pitcher of broth.<br> +<br> +‘I will not walk with such a thing as that,’ said he, ‘it +makes you look like one of the dirty girls in the village.’<br> +<br> +‘Then you ought, like the courteous Rinaldo, to carry it for me,’ +said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘I touch the nasty thing! Faugh! Throw it into the +gutter, Lily.’<br> +<br> +He made an attempt to dispose of it in that manner, which it required +all Lily’s strength to withstand, as well as an imploring ‘Now, +Redgie, think of the poor old people. Remember, you have promised.’<br> +<br> +‘Promised! I never promised to walk with a greasy old pitcher. +What am I to do if we meet Miss Weston?’<br> +<br> +Lily contrived to overcome Reginald’s refined notions sufficiently +to make him allow her to carry the pitcher; and when he had whistled +up two of the dogs, they proceeded merrily along the road, dirty and +wet though it was. Their walk was not entirely without adventures; +first, they had to turn back in the path by the river side, which would +have saved them half a mile, but was now flooded. Then, as they +were passing through a long lane, which led them by Edward Gage’s +farm, a great dog rushed out of the yard, and fell upon the little terrier, +Viper. Old Neptune flew to the rescue, and to the great alarm +of Lily, Reginald ran up with a stick; happily, however, a labourer +at the same time came out with a pitchfork, and beat off the enemy. +These two delays, together with Reginald’s propensity for cutting +sticks, and for breaking ice, made it quite late when they arrived at +South End. When there, they found that a kind neighbour had brought +the old people their broth in the morning, and intended to go for her +own when she came home from her work in the evening. It was not +often that Lily went to South End; the old people were delighted to +see her, and detained her for some time by a long story about their +daughter at service, while Reginald looked the picture of impatience, +drumming on his knee, switching the leg of the table, and tickling Neptune’s +ears. When they left the cottage it was much later and darker +than they had expected; but Lily was unwilling again to encounter the +perils of the lane, and consulted her brother whether there was not +some other way. He gave notice of a cut across some fields, which +would take them into the turnpike road, and Lily agreeing, they climbed +over a gate into a pathless turnip field. Reginald strode along +first, calling to the dogs, while Lily followed, abstaining from dwelling +on the awkward circumstance that every step she took led her farther +from home, and rejoicing that it was so dark that she could not see +the mud which plastered the edge of her petticoats. After plodding +through three very long fields, they found themselves shut in by a high +hedge and tall ditch.<br> +<br> +‘That fool of a farmer!’ cried Reginald.<br> +<br> +‘What is to be done?’ said Lily, disconsolately.<br> +<br> +‘There is the road,’ said Reginald. ‘How do +you propose to get into it?’<br> +<br> +‘There was a gap here last summer,’ said the boy.<br> +<br> +‘Very likely! Come back; try the next field; it must have +a gate somewhere.’<br> +<br> +Back they went, after seeing the carrier’s cart from Raynham pass +by.<br> +<br> +‘Redgie, it must be half-past five! We shall never be in +time. Aunt Rotherwood coming too!’<br> +<br> +After a desperate plunge through a swamp of ice, water, and mud, they +found themselves at a gate, and safely entered the turnpike road.<br> +<br> +‘How it rains!’ said Lily. ‘One comfort is that +it is too dark for any one to see us.’<br> +<br> +‘Not very dark, either,’ said Reginald; ‘I believe +there is a moon if one could see it. Ha! here comes some one on +horseback. It is a gray horse; it is William.’<br> +<br> +‘Come to look for us,’ said Lily. ‘Oh, Redgie!’<br> +<br> +‘Coming home from Raynham,’ said Reginald. ‘Do +not fancy yourself so important, Lily. William, is that you?’<br> +<br> +‘Reginald!’ exclaimed William, suddenly checking his horse. +‘Lily, what is all this?’<br> +<br> +‘We set out to South End, to take the broth to the old Martins, +and we found the meadows flooded, which made us late; but we shall soon +be at home,’ said Lily, in a make-the-best-of-it tone.<br> +<br> +‘Soon? You are a mile and a half from home now, and do you +know how late it is?’<br> +<br> +‘Half-past five,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Six, at least; how could you be so absurd?’ William +rode quickly on; Reginald laughed, and they plodded on; at length a +tall dark figure was seen coming towards them, and Lily started, as +it addressed her, ‘Now what is the meaning of all this?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, William, have you come to meet us? Thank you; I am +sorry - ’<br> +<br> +‘How were you to come through the village in the dark, without +some one to take care of you?’<br> +<br> +‘I am taking care of her,’ said Reginald, affronted.<br> +<br> +‘Make haste; my aunt is come. How could you make the people +at home so anxious?’<br> +<br> +William gave Lily his arm, and on finding she was both tired and wet, +again scolded her, walked so fast that she was out of breath, then complained +of her folly, and blamed Reginald. It was very unpleasant, and +yet she was very much obliged to him, and exceedingly sorry he had taken +so much trouble.<br> +<br> +They came home at about seven o’clock. Jane met them in +the hall, full of her own and Lady Rotherwood’s wonderings; she +hurried Lily upstairs, and - skilful, quick, and ready - she helped +her to dress in a very short time. As they ran down Reginald overtook +them, and they entered the drawing-room as the dinner-bell was ringing. +William did not appear for some time, and his apologies were not such +as to smooth matters for his sister.<br> +<br> +Perhaps it was for this very reason that Mr. Mohun allowed Lily to escape +with no more than a jesting reproof. Lord Rotherwood wished to +make his cousin’s hardihood and enterprise an example to his sister, +and, in his droll exaggerating way, represented such walks as every-day +occurrences. This was just the contrary to what Emily wished her +aunt to believe, and Claude was much diverted with the struggle between +her politeness to Lord Rotherwood and her desire to maintain the credit +of the family.<br> +<br> +Lady Florence, though liking Lilias, thought this walk extravagant. +Emily feared Lilias had lost her aunt’s good opinion, and prepared +herself for some hints about a governess. It was untoward; but +in the course of the evening she was a little comforted by a proposal +from Lady Rotherwood to take her and Lilias to a ball at Raynham, which +was to take place in January; and as soon as the gentlemen appeared, +they submitted the invitation to their father, while Lady Rotherwood +pressed William to accompany them, and he was refusing.<br> +<br> +‘What are soldiers intended for but to dance!’ said Lord +Rotherwood.<br> +<br> +‘I never dance,’ said William, with a grave emphasis.<br> +<br> +‘I am out of the scrape,’ said the Marquis. ‘I +shall be gone before it takes place; I reserve all my dancing for July +30th. Well, young ladies, is the Baron propitious?’<br> +<br> +‘He says he will consider of it,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Oh then, he will let you go,’ said Florence, ‘people +never consider when they mean no.’<br> +<br> +‘No, Florence,’ said her brother, ‘Uncle Mohun’s +“consider of it” is equivalent to Le Roi’s “avisera.”’<br> +<br> +‘What is he saying?’ asked Lily, turning to listen. +‘Oh, that my wig is in no ball-going condition.’<br> +<br> +‘A wreath would hide all deficiencies,’ said Florence; ‘I +am determined to have you both.’<br> +<br> +‘I give small hopes of both,’ said Claude; ‘you will +only have Emily.’<br> +<br> +‘Why do you think so, Claude?’ cried both Florence and Lilias.<br> +<br> +‘From my own observation,’ Claude answered, gravely.<br> +<br> +‘I am very angry with the Baron,’ said Lord Rotherwood; +‘he is grown inhospitable: he will not let me come here to-morrow +- the first Christmas these five years that I have missed paying my +respects to the New Court sirloin and turkey. It is too bad - +and the Westons dining here too.’<br> +<br> +‘Cousin Turkey-cock, well may you be in a passion,’ muttered +Claude, as if in soliloquy.<br> +<br> +Lord Rotherwood and Lilias both caught the sound, and laughed, but Emily, +unwilling that Florence should see what liberties they took with her +brother, asked quickly why he was not to come.<br> +<br> +‘I think we are much obliged to him,’ said Florence, ‘it +would be too bad to leave mamma and me to spend our Christmas alone, +when we came to the castle on purpose to oblige him.’<br> +<br> +‘Ay, and he says he will not let me come here, because I ought +to give the Hetherington people ocular demonstration that I go to church,’ +said Lord Rotherwood.<br> +<br> +‘Very right, as Eleanor would say,’ observed Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Very likely; but I don’t care for the Hetherington folks; +they do not know how to make the holly in the church fit to be seen, +and they will not sing the good old Christmas carols. Andrew Grey +is worth all the Hetherington choir put together.’<br> +<br> +‘Possibly; but how are they to mend, if their Marquis contents +himself with despising them?’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘That is too bad, Claude. When you heard how submissively +I listened to the Baron, and know I mean to abide by what he said, you +ought to condole with me a little, if you have not the grace to lament +my absence on your own account. Why, I thought myself as regular +a part of the feast as the mince-pies, and almost as necessary.’<br> +<br> +Here a request for some music put an end to his lamentations. +Lilias was vexed by the uncertainty about the ball, and was, besides, +too tired to play with spirit. She saw that Emily was annoyed, +and she felt ready to cry before the evening was over; but still she +was proud of her exploit, and when, after the party was gone, Emily +began to represent to her the estimate that her aunt was likely to form +of her character, she replied, ‘If she thinks the worse of me +for carrying the broth to those poor old people, I am sure I do not +wish for her good opinion.’<br> +<br> +Mr. Mohun was not propitious when the question of Lily’s going +to the ball was pressed upon him. He said that he thought her +too young for gaieties, and, besides, that late hours never agreed with +her, and he advised her to wait for the 30th of July.<br> +<br> +Lilias knew that it was useless to say any more. She was much +disappointed, and at the same time provoked with herself for caring +about such a matter. Her temper was out of order on Christmas +Day; and while she wondered why she could not enjoy the festival as +formerly, with thoughts fitted to the day, she did not examine herself +sufficiently to find out the real cause of her uncomfortable feelings.<br> +<br> +The clear frost was only cold; the bright sunshine did not rejoice her; +the holly and the mistletoe seemed ill arranged; and none of the pleasant +sights of the day could give her such blitheness as once she had known.<br> +<br> +She was almost angry when she saw that the Westons had left off their +mourning, declaring that they did not look like themselves; and her +vexation came to a height when she found that Alethea actually intended +to go to the ball with Mrs. Carrington. The excited manner in +which she spoke of it convinced Mr. Mohun that he had acted wisely in +not allowing her to go, since the very idea seemed to turn her head.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XV: MINOR MISFORTUNES<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Loving she is, and tractable though wild.’<br> +<br> +In a day or two Lady Rotherwood and her daughter called at the New Court. +On this occasion Lilias was employed in as rational and lady-like a +manner as could be desired - in practising her music in the drawing-room; +Emily was reading, and Ada threading beads.<br> +<br> +Lady Rotherwood greeted her nieces very affectionately, gave a double +caress to Adeline, stroked her pretty curls, admired her beadwork, talked +to her about her doll, and then proceeded to invite the whole family +to a Twelfth-Day party, given for their especial benefit. The +little Carringtons and the Weston girls were also to be asked. +Emily and Lilias were eagerly expressing their delight when suddenly +a trampling, like a charge of horse, was heard in the hall; the door +was thrown back, and in rushed Reginald and Phyllis, shouting, ‘Such +fun! - the pigs are in the garden!’<br> +<br> +At the sight of their aunt they stopped short, looking aghast, and certainly +those who beheld them partook of their consternation. Reginald +was hot and gloveless; his shoes far from clean; his brown curls hanging +in great disorder from his Scotch cap; his handkerchief loose; his jacket +dusty - but this was no great matter, since, as Emily said, he was ‘only +a boy.’ His bright open smile, the rough, yet gentleman-like +courtesy of his advance to the Marchioness, his comical roguish glance +at Emily, to see if she was very angry, and to defy her if she were, +and his speedy exit, all greatly amused Lady Florence, and made up for +what there might have been of the wild schoolboy in his entrance.<br> +<br> +Poor Phyllis had neither the excuse of being a schoolboy nor the good-humoured +fearlessness that freed her brother from embarrassment, and she stood +stock-still, awkward and dismayed, not daring to advance; longing to +join in the pig-chase, yet afraid to run away, her eyes stretched wide +open, her hair streaming into them, her bonnet awry, her tippet powdered +with seeds of hay, her gloves torn and soiled, the colour of her brown +holland apron scarcely discernible through its various stains, her frock +tucked up, her stockings covered with mud, and without shoes, which +she had taken off at the door.<br> +<br> +‘Phyllis,’ said Emily, ‘what are you thinking of? +What makes you such a figure? Come and speak to Aunt Rotherwood.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis drew off her left-hand glove, and held out her hand, making +a few sidelong steps towards her aunt, who gave her a rather reluctant +kiss. Lily bent her bonnet into shape, and pulled down her frock, +while Florence laughed, patted her cheek, and asked what she had been +doing.<br> +<br> +‘Helping Redgie to chop turnips,’ was the answer.<br> +<br> +Afraid of some further exposure, Emily hastily sent her away to be made +fit to be seen, and Lady Rotherwood went on caressing Ada and talking +of something else. Emily had no opportunity of explaining that +this was not Phyllis’s usual condition, and she was afraid that +Lady Rotherwood would never believe that it was accidental. She +was much annoyed, especially as the catastrophe only served to divert +Mr. Mohun and Claude. Of all the family William and Adeline alone +took her view of the case. Ada lectured Phyllis on her ‘naughtiness,’ +and plumed herself on her aunt’s evident preference, but William +was not equally sympathetic. He was indeed as fastidious as Emily +herself, and as much annoyed by such misadventures; but he maintained +that she was to blame for them, saying that the state of things was +not such as it should be, and that the exposure might be advantageous +if it put her on her guard in future.<br> +<br> +It appeared as if poor Phyllis was to be punished for the vexation which +she had caused, for in the course of her adventures with Reginald she +caught a cold, which threatened to prevent her from being of the party +on Twelfth-Day. She had a cough, which did not give her by any +means as much inconvenience as the noise it occasioned did to other +people. Every morning and every evening she anxiously asked her +sisters whether they thought she would be allowed to go. Another +of the party seemed likely to fail. On the 5th of January Claude +came down to breakfast later even than usual; but he had no occasion +to make excuses, for his heavy eyes, the dark lines under them, his +pale cheeks, and the very sit of his hair, were sure signs that he had +a violent headache. He soon betook himself to the sofa in the +drawing-room, attended by Lily, with pillows, cushions, ether, and lavender. +Late in the afternoon the pain diminished a little, and he fell asleep, +to the great joy of his sister, who sat watching him, scarcely daring +to move.<br> +<br> +Suddenly a frightful scream and loud crash was heard in the room above +them. Claude started up, and Lily, exclaiming, ‘Those tiresome +children!’ hurried to the room whence the noise had come.<br> +<br> +Reginald, Phyllis, and Ada, all stood there laughing. Reginald +and Phyllis had been climbing to the top of a great wardrobe, by means +of a ladder of chairs and tables. While Phyllis was descending +her brother had made some demonstration that startled her, and she fell +with all the chairs over her, but without hurting herself.<br> +<br> +‘You naughty troublesome child,’ cried Lily, in no gentle +tone. ‘How often have you been told to leave off such boyish +tricks! And you choose the very place for disturbing poor Claude, +with his bad headache, making it worse than ever.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis tried to speak, but only succeeded in giving a dismal howl. +She went on screaming, sobbing, and roaring so loud that she could not +hear Lily’s attempts to quiet her. The next minute Claude +appeared, looking half distracted. Reginald ran off, and as he +dashed out of the room, came full against William, who caught hold of +him, calling out to know what was the matter.<br> +<br> +‘Only Phyllis screaming,’ said Lily. ‘Oh, Claude, +I am very sorry!’<br> +<br> +‘Is that all?’ said Claude. ‘I thought some +one was half killed!’<br> +<br> +He sank into a chair, pressing his hand on his temples, and looking +very faint. William supported him, and Lily stood by, repeating, +‘I am very sorry - it was all my fault - my scolding - ’<br> +<br> +‘Hush,’ said William, ‘you have done mischief enough. +Go away, children.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis had already gone, and the next moment thrust into Lily’s +hand the first of the medicaments which she had found in the drawing-room. +The faintness soon went off, but Claude thought he had better not struggle +against the headache any longer, but go to bed, in hopes of being better +the next day. William went with him to his room, and Lilias lingered +on the stairs, very humble, and very wretched. William soon came +forth again, and asked the meaning of the uproar.<br> +<br> +‘It was all my fault,’ said she; ‘I was vexed at Claude’s +being waked, and that made me speak sharply to Phyllis, and set her +roaring.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not know which is the most inconsiderate of you,’ +said William.<br> +<br> +‘You cannot blame me more than I deserve,’ said Lily. +‘May I go to poor Claude?’<br> +<br> +‘I suppose so; but I do not see what good you are to do. +Quiet is the only thing for him.’<br> +<br> +Lily, however, went, and Claude gave her to understand that he liked +her to stay with him. She arranged his blinds and curtains comfortably, +and then sat down to watch him. William went to the drawing-room +to write a letter. Just as he had sat down he heard a strange +noise, a sound of sobbing, which seemed to come from the corner where +the library steps stood. Looking behind them, he beheld Phyllis +curled up, her head on her knees, crying bitterly.<br> +<br> +‘You there! Come out. What is the matter now?’<br> +<br> +‘I am so very sorry,’ sighed she.<br> +<br> +‘Well, leave off crying.’ She would willingly have +obeyed, but her sobs were beyond her own control; and he went on, ‘If +you are sorry, there is no more to be said. I hope it will be +a lesson to you another time. You are quite old enough to have +more consideration for other people.’<br> +<br> +‘I am very sorry,’ again said Phyllis, in a mournful note.<br> +<br> +‘Be sorry, only do not roar. You make that noise from habit, +I am convinced, and you may break yourself off it if you choose.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis crept out of the room, and in a few minutes more the door was +softly opened by Emily, returning from her walk.<br> +<br> +‘I thought Claude was here. Is he gone to bed? Is +his head worse?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, the children have been doing their best to distract him. +Emily, I want to know why it is that those children are for ever in +mischief and yelling in all parts of the house.’<br> +<br> +‘I wish I could help it,’ said Emily, with a sigh; ‘they +are very troublesome.’<br> +<br> +‘There must be great mismanagement,’ said her brother.<br> +<br> +‘Oh, William! Why do you think so?’<br> +<br> +‘Other children do not go on in this way, and it was not so in +Eleanor’s time.’<br> +<br> +‘It is only Phyllis,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Phyllis or not, it ought not to be. What will that child +grow up, if you let her be always running wild with the boys?’<br> +<br> +‘Consider, William, that you see us at a disadvantage; we are +all unsettled by this illness, and the children have been from home.’<br> +<br> +‘As if they learnt all these wild tricks at Broomhill! That +excuse will not do, Emily.’<br> +<br> +‘And then they are always worse in the holidays,’ pleaded +Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Yes, there are reasons to be found for everything that goes wrong; +but if you were wise you would look deeper. Now, Emily, I do not +wish to be hard upon you, for I know you are in a very difficult position, +and very young for such a charge, but I am sure you might manage better. +I do not think you use your energies. There is no activity, nor +regularity, nor method, about this household. I believe that my +father sees that this is the case, but it is not his habit to find fault +with little things. You may think that, therefore, I need not +interfere, but - ’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, William! I am glad - ’<br> +<br> +‘But remember that comfort is made up of little things. +And, Emily, when you consider how much my father has suffered, and how +desolate his home must be at the best, I think you will be inclined +to exert yourself to prevent him from being anxious about the children +or harassed by your negligence.’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed, William,’ returned Emily, with many tears, ‘it +is my most earnest wish to make him comfortable. Thank you for +what you have said. Now that I am stronger, I hope to do more, +and I will really do my best.’<br> +<br> +At this moment Emily was sincere; but the good impulse of one instant +was not likely to endure against long cherished habits of selfish apathy.<br> +<br> +Claude did not appear again till the middle of the next day. His +headache was nearly gone, but he was so languid that he gave up all +thoughts of Devereux Castle that evening. Lord Rotherwood, who +always seemed to know what was going on at Beechcroft, came to inquire +for him, and very unwillingly allowed that it would be better for him +to stay at home. Lilias wished to remain with him; but this her +cousin would not permit, saying that he could not consent to lose three +of the party, and Florence would be disappointed in all her plans. +Neither would Claude hear of keeping her at home, and she was obliged +to satisfy herself with putting his arm-chair in his favourite corner +by the fire, with the little table before it, supplied with books, newspaper, +inkstand, paper-knife, and all the new periodicals, and he declared +that he should enjoy the height of luxury.<br> +<br> +Phyllis considered it to be entirely her fault that he could not go, +and was too much grieved on that account to have many regrets to spare +for herself. She enjoyed seeing Adeline dressed, and hearing Esther’s +admiration of her. And having seen the party set off, she made +her way into the drawing-room, opening the door as gently as possible, +just wide enough to admit her little person, then shutting it as if +she was afraid of hurting it, she crept across the room on tiptoe. +She started when Claude looked up and said, ‘Why, Phyl, I have +not seen you to-day.’<br> +<br> +‘Good morning,’ she mumbled, advancing in her sidelong way.<br> +<br> +Claude suspected that she had been more blamed the day before than the +occasion called for, and wishing to make amends he kissed her, and said +something good-natured about spending the evening together.<br> +<br> +Phyllis, a little reassured, went to her own occupations. She +took out a large heavy volume, laid it on the window-seat, and began +to read. Claude was interested in his own book, and did not look +up till the light failed him. He then, closing his book, gave +a long yawn, and looked round for his little companion, almost thinking, +from the stillness of the room, that she must have gone to seek for +amusement in the nursery.<br> +<br> +She was, however, still kneeling against the window-seat, her elbows +planted on the great folio, and her head between her hands, reading +intently.<br> +<br> +‘Little Madam,’ said he, ‘what great book have you +got there?’<br> +<br> +<i>‘As You Like It,’ </i>said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘What! are you promoted to reading Shakspeare?’<br> +<br> +‘I have not read any but this,’ said Phyllis. ‘Ada +and I have often looked at the pictures, and I liked the poor wounded +stag coming down to the water so much, that I read about it, and then +I went on. Was it wrong, Claude? no one ever told me not.’<br> +<br> +‘You are welcome to read it,’ said Claude, ‘but not +now - it is too dark. Come and sit in the great chair on the other +side of the fire, and be sociable. And what do you think of ‘<i>As +You Like It</i>?’’<br> +<br> +‘I like it very much,’ answered Phyllis, ‘only I cannot +think why <i>Jacks </i>did not go to the poor stag, and try to cure +it, when he saw its tears running into the water.’<br> +<br> +To save the character of <i>Jacks, </i>Claude gravely suggested the +difficulty of catching the stag, and then asked Phyllis her opinion +of the heroines.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! it was very funny about Rosalind dressing like a man, and +then being ready to cry like a girl when she was tired, and then pretending +to pretend to be herself; and Celia, it was very kind of her to go away +with Rosalind; but I should have liked her better if she had stayed +at home, and persuaded her father to let Rosalind stay too. I +am sure she would if she had been like Ada. Then it is so nice +about Old Adam and Orlando. Do not you think so, Claude? +It is just what I am sure Wat Greenwood would do for Redgie, if he was +to be turned out like Orlando.’<br> +<br> +‘It is just what Wat Greenwood’s ancestor did for Sir Maurice +Mohun,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Yes, Dame Greenwood tells us that story.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, Phyl, I think you show very good taste in liking the scene +between Orlando and Adam.’<br> +<br> +‘I am glad you like it, too, Claude. But I will tell you +what I like best,’ exclaimed the little girl, springing up, ‘I +do like it, when Orlando killed the lioness and the snake, - and saved +Oliver; how glad he must have been.’<br> +<br> +‘Glad to have done good to his enemy,’ said Claude; ‘yes, +indeed.’<br> +<br> +‘His enemy! he was his brother, you know. I meant it must +be so very nice to save anybody - don’t you think so, Claude?’<br> +<br> +‘Certainly.’<br> +<br> +‘Claude, do you know there is nothing I wish so much as to save +somebody’s life. It was very nice to save the dragon-fly; +and it is very nice to let flies out of spiders’ webs, only they +always have their legs and wings torn, and look miserable; and it was +very nice to put the poor little thrushes back into their nest when +they tumbled out, and then to see their mother come to feed them; and +it was very pleasant to help the poor goose that had put its head through +the pales, and could not get it back. Mrs. Harrington said it +would have been strangled if I had not helped it. That was very +nice, but how delightful it would be to save some real human person’s +life.’<br> +<br> +Claude did not laugh at the odd medley in her speech, but answered, +‘Well, those little things train you in readiness and kindness.’<br> +<br> +‘Will they?’ said Phyllis, pressing on to express what had +long been her earnest wish. ‘If I could but save some one, +I should not mind being killed myself - I think not - I hope it is not +naughty to say so. I believe there is something in the Bible about +it, about laying down one’s life for one’s friend.’<br> +<br> +‘There is, Phyl, and I quite agree with you; it must be a great +blessing to have saved some one.’<br> +<br> +‘And little girls have sometimes done it, Claude. I know +a story of one who saved her little brother from drowning, and another +waked the people when the house was on fire. And when I was at +Broomhill, Marianne showed me a story of a young lady who helped to +save the Prince, that Prince Charlie that Miss Weston sings about. +I wish the Prince of Wales would get into some misfortune - I should +like to save him.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not quite echo that loyal wish,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Well, but, Claude, Redgie wishes for a rebellion, like Sir Maurice’s, +for he says all the boys at his school would be one regiment, in green +velvet coats, and white feathers in their hats.’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed! and Redgie to be Field Marshal?’<br> +<br> +‘No, he is to be Sir Reginald Mohun, a Knight of the Garter, and +to ask the Queen to give William back the title of Baron of Beechcroft, +and make papa a Duke.’<br> +<br> +‘Well done! he is to take good care of the interests of the family.’<br> +<br> +‘But it is not that that I should care about,’ said Phyllis. +‘I should like it better for the feeling in one’s own self; +I think all that fuss would rather spoil it - don’t you, Claude?’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed, I do; but Phyllis, if you only wish for that feeling, +you need not look for dangers or rebellions to gain it.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! you mean the feeling that very good people indeed have - +people like Harry - but that I shall never be.’<br> +<br> +‘I hope you mean to try, though.’<br> +<br> +‘I do try; I wish I was as good as Ada, but I am so naughty and +so noisy that I do not know what to do. Every day when I say my +prayers I think about being quiet, and not idling at my lessons, and +sometimes I do stop in time, and behave better, but sometimes I forget, +and I do not mind what I am about, and my voice gets loud, and I let +the things tumble down and make a noise, and so it was yesterday.’ +Here she looked much disposed to cry.<br> +<br> +‘No, no, we will not have any crying this evening,’ said +Claude. ‘I do not think you did me much mischief, my head +ached just as much before.’<br> +<br> +‘That was a thing I wanted to ask you about: William says my crying +loud is all habit, and that I must cure myself of it. How does +he mean? Ought I to cry every day to practise doing it without +roaring?’<br> +<br> +‘Do you like to begin,’ said Claude, laughing; ‘shall +I beat you or pinch you?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! it would make your head bad again,’ said Phyllis; ‘but +I wish you would tell me what he means. When I cry I only think +about what makes me unhappy.’<br> +<br> +‘Try never to cry,’ said Claude; ‘I assure you it +is not pleasant to hear you, even when I have no headache. If +you wish to do anything right, you must learn self-control, and it will +be a good beginning to check yourself when you are going to cry. +Do not look melancholy now. Here comes the tea. Let me see +how you will perform as tea-maker.’<br> +<br> +‘I wish the evening would not go away so fast!’<br> +<br> +‘And what are we to do after tea? You are queen of the evening.’<br> +<br> +‘If you would but tell me a story, Claude.’<br> +<br> +They lingered long over the tea-table, talking and laughing, and when +they had finished, Phyllis discovered with surprise that it was nearly +bedtime. The promised story was not omitted, however, and Phyllis, +sitting on a little footstool at her brother’s feet, looked up +eagerly for it.<br> +<br> +‘Well, Phyl, I will tell you a true history that I heard from +an officer who had served in the Peninsular War - the war in Spain, +you know.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, with the French, who killed their king. Lily told +me.’<br> +<br> +‘And the Portuguese were helping us. Just after we had taken +the town of Ciudad Rodrigo, some of the Portuguese soldiers went to +find lodgings for themselves, and, entering a magazine of gunpowder, +made a fire on the floor to dress their food. A most dangerous +thing - do you know why?’<br> +<br> +‘The book would be burnt,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘What book, you wise child?’<br> +<br> +‘The Magazine; I thought a magazine was one of the paper books +that Maurice is always reading.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh!’ said Claude, laughing, ‘a magazine is a store, +and as many different things are stored in those books, they are called +magazines. A powder magazine is a store of barrels of gunpowder. +Now do you see why it was dangerous to light a fire?’<br> +<br> +‘It blows up,’ said Phyllis; ‘that was the reason +why Robinson Crusoe was afraid of the lightning.’<br> +<br> +‘Right, Phyl, and therefore a candle is never allowed to be carried +into a powder magazine, and even nailed shoes are never worn there, +lest they should strike fire. One spark, lighting on a grain of +gunpowder, scattered on the floor, might communicate with the rest, +make it all explode, and spread destruction everywhere. Think +in what fearful peril these reckless men had placed, not only themselves, +but the whole town, and the army. An English officer chanced to +discover them, and what do you think he did?’<br> +<br> +‘Told all the people to run away.’<br> +<br> +‘How could he have told every one, soldiers, inhabitants, and +all? where could they have gone? No, he raised no alarm, but he +ordered the Portuguese out of the building, and with the help of an +English sergeant, he carried out, piece by piece, all the wood which +they had set on fire. Now, imagine what that must have been. +An explosion might happen at any moment, yet they had to walk steadily, +slowly, and with the utmost caution, in and out of this place several +times, lest one spark might fly back.’<br> +<br> +‘Then they were saved?’ cried Phyllis, breathlessly; ‘and +what became of them afterwards?’<br> +<br> +‘They were both killed in battle, the officer, I believe, in Badajoz, +and the sergeant sometime afterwards.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis gave a deep sigh, and sat silent for some minutes. Next, +Claude began a droll Irish fairy-tale, which he told with spirit and +humour, such as some people would have scorned to exert for the amusement +of a mere child. Phyllis laughed, and was so happy, that when +suddenly they heard the sound of wheels, she started up, wondering what +brought the others home so soon, and was still more surprised when Claude +told her it was past ten.<br> +<br> +‘Oh dear! what will papa and Emily say to me for being up still? +But I will stay now, it would not be fair to pretend to be gone to bed.’<br> +<br> +‘Well said, honest Phyl; now for the news from the castle.’<br> +<br> +‘Why, Claude,’ said his eldest brother, entering, ‘you +are alive again.’<br> +<br> +‘I doubt whether your evening could have been pleasanter than +ours,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Phyl,’ cried Ada, ‘do you know, Mary Carrington’s +governess thought I was Florence’s sister.’<br> +<br> +‘You look so bright, Claude,’ said Jane, ‘I think +you must have taken Cinderella’s friend with the pumpkin to enliven +you.’<br> +<br> +‘My fairy was certainly sister to a Brownie,’ said Claude, +stroking Phyllis’s hair.<br> +<br> +‘Claude,’ again began Ada, ‘Miss Car - ’<br> +<br> +‘I wish Cinderella’s fairy may be forthcoming the day of +the ball,’ said Lily, disconsolately.<br> +<br> +‘And William is going after all,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Indeed! has the great Captain relented?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes. Is it not good of him? Aunt Rotherwood is so +much pleased that he consents to go entirely to oblige her.’<br> +<br> +‘Sensible of his condescension,’ said Claude. ‘By +the bye, what makes the Baron look so mischievous?’<br> +<br> +‘Mischievous!’ said Emily, looking round with a start, ‘he +is looking very comical, and so he has been all the evening.’<br> +<br> +‘What? You thought mischievous was meant in Hannah’s +sense, when she complains of Master Reginald being very mischie-vi-ous.’<br> +<br> +Ada now succeeded in saying, ‘The Carringtons’ governess +called me Lady Ada.’<br> +<br> +‘How could she bring herself to utter so horrid a sound?’ +said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Ada is more cock-a-hoop than ever now,’ said Reginald; +‘she does not think Miss Weston good enough to speak to.’<br> +<br> +‘But, Claude, she really did, she thought I was Florence’s +sister, and she said I was just like her.’<br> +<br> +‘I wish you would hold your tongue, or go to bed,’ said +William, ‘I have heard nothing but this nonsense all the way home.’<br> +<br> +While William was sending off Ada to bed, and Phyllis was departing +with her, Lily told Claude that the Captain had been most agreeable. +‘I feared,’ said she, ‘that he would be too grand +for this party, but he was particularly entertaining; Rotherwood was +quite eclipsed.’<br> +<br> +‘Rotherwood wants Claude to set him off,’ said Mr. Mohun. +‘Now, young ladies, reserve the rest of your adventures for the +morning.’<br> +<br> +Adeline had full satisfaction in recounting the governess’s mistake +to the maids, and in hearing from Esther that it was no wonder, ‘for +that she looked more like a born lady than Lady Florence herself!’<br> +<br> +Lilias’s fit of petulance about the ball had returned more strongly +than ever; she partly excused herself to her own mind, by fancying she +disliked the thought of the lonely evening she was to spend more than +that of losing the pleasure of the ball. Mr. Mohun would be absent, +conducting Maurice to a new school, and Claude and Reginald would also +be gone.<br> +<br> +Her temper was affected in various ways; she wondered that William and +Emily could like to go - she had thought that Miss Weston was wiser. +Her daily occupations were irksome - she was cross to Phyllis.<br> +<br> +It made her very angry to be accused by the young brothers of making +a fuss, and Claude’s silence was equally offensive. It was +upon principle that he said nothing. He knew it was nothing but +a transient attack of silliness, of which she was herself ashamed; but +he was sorry to leave her in that condition, and feared Lady Rotherwood’s +coming into the neighbourhood was doing her harm, as certainly as it +was spoiling Ada. The ball day arrived, and it was marked by a +great burst of fretfulness on the part of poor Lilias, occasioned by +so small a matter as the being asked by Emily to write a letter to Eleanor. +Emily was dressing to go to dine at Devereux Castle when she made the +request.<br> +<br> +‘What have I to say? I never could write a letter in my +life, at least not to the Duenna - there is no news.’<br> +<br> +‘About the boys going to school,’ Emily suggested.<br> +<br> +‘As if she did not know all about them as well as I can tell her. +She does not care for my news, I see no one to hear gossip from. +I thought you undertook all the formal correspondence, Emily?’<br> +<br> +‘Do you call a letter to your sister formal correspondence!’<br> +<br> +‘Everything is formal with her. All I can say is, that you +and William are going to the ball, and she will say that is very silly.’<br> +<br> +‘Eleanor once went to this Raynham ball; it was her first and +last,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Yes, not long before they went to Italy; it will only make her +melancholy to speak of it - I declare I cannot write.’<br> +<br> +‘And I have no time,’ said Emily, ‘and you know how +vexed she is if she does not get her letter every Saturday.’<br> +<br> +‘All for the sake of punctuality, nothing else,’ said Lily. +‘I rather like to disappoint fidgety people - don’t you, +Emily?’<br> +<br> +‘Well,’ said Emily, ‘only papa does not like that +she should be disappointed.’<br> +<br> +‘You might have written, if you had not dawdled away all the morning.’<br> +<br> +This was true, and it therefore stung Emily, who complained that Lily +was very unkind. Lily defended herself sharply, and the dispute +was growing vehement, when William happily cut it short by a summons +to Emily to make haste.<br> +<br> +When they were gone Lily had time for reflection. Good-temper +was so common a virtue, and generally cost her so little effort, that +she took no pains to cultivate it, but she now felt she had lost all +claim to be considered amiable under disappointment. It was too +late to bear the privation with a good grace. She was heartily +ashamed of having been so cross about a trifle, and ashamed of being +discontented at Emily’s having a pleasure in which she could not +share. Would this have been the case a year ago? She was +afraid to ask herself the question, and without going deep enough into +the history of her own mind to make her sorrow and shame profitable, +she tried to satisfy herself with a superficial compensation, by making +herself particularly agreeable to her three younger sisters, and by +writing a very long and entertaining letter to Eleanor.<br> +<br> +She met Emily with a cheerful face the next day, and listened with pleasure +to her history of the ball; and when Mr. Mohun returned home he saw +that the cloud had passed away. But, alas! Lilias neglected +to take the only means of preventing its recurrence.<br> +<br> +The next week William departed. Before he went he gave his sisters +great pleasure by desiring them to write to him, and not to let him +fall into his ancient state of ignorance respecting the affairs of Beechcroft.<br> +<br> +‘Mind,’ was his farewell speech, ‘I expect you to +keep me <i>au courant du jour</i>. I will not be in the dark about +your best friends and neighbours when I come home next July.’<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XVI - VANITY AND VEXATION<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘And still I have to tell the same sad tale<br> +Of wasted energies, and idle dreams.’<br> +<br> +Devereux Castle now became the great resort of the Miss Mohuns. +They were always sure of a welcome there. Lady Rotherwood liked +to patronise them, and Florence was glad of their society.<br> +<br> +This was quite according to the wishes of Emily, who now had nothing +left to desire, but that the style of dress suitable, in her opinion, +to the granddaughter of the Marquis of Rotherwood, was more in accordance +with the purse of the daughter of the Esquire of Beechcroft. It +was no part of Emily’s character to care for dress. She +was at once too indolent and too sensible; she saw the vulgarity of +finery, and only aimed at simplicity and elegance. During their +girlhood Emily and Lilias had had no more concern with their clothes +than with their food; Eleanor had carefully taught them plain needlework, +and they had assisted in making more than one set of shirts; but they +had nothing to do with the choice or fashion of their own apparel. +They were always dressed alike, and in as plain and childish a manner +as they could be, consistently with their station. On Eleanor’s +marriage a suitable allowance was given to each of them, in order that +they might provide their own clothes, and until Rachel left them they +easily kept themselves in very good trim. When Esther came Lily +cheerfully took the trouble of her own small decorations, considering +it as her payment for the pleasure of having Esther in the house. +Emily, however, neglected the useful ‘stitch in time,’ till +even ‘nine’ were unavailing. She soon found herself +compelled to buy new ready-made articles, and expected Lilias to do +the same. But Lilias demurred, for she was too wise to think it +necessary to ruin herself in company with Emily, and thus the two sisters +were no longer dressed alike. A constant fear tormented Emily +lest she should disgrace Lady Rotherwood, or be considered by some stranger +as merely a poor relation of the great people, and not as the daughter +of the gentleman of the oldest family in the county. She was, +therefore, anxious to be perfectly fashionable, and not to wear the +same things too often, and in her disinterested desire to maintain the +dignity of the family the allowance which she received at Christmas +melted away in her hands.<br> +<br> +Lily, though exempt from this folly, was not in a satisfactory state +of mind. She was drawn off from her duties by a kind of spell. +It was not that she liked Florence’s society better than her home +pursuits.<br> +<br> +Florence was indeed a very sweet-tempered and engaging creature; but +her mind was not equal to that of Lilias, and there was none of the +pleasure of relying upon her, and looking up to her, which Lilias had +learnt to enjoy in the company of her brother Claude, and of Alethea +Weston. It was only that Lily’s own mind had been turned +away from her former occupations, and that she did not like to resume +them. She had often promised herself to return to her really useful +studies, and her positive duties, as soon as her brothers were gone; +but day after day passed and nothing was done, though her visits to +the cottages and her lessons to Phyllis were often neglected. +Her calls at Devereux Castle took up many afternoons. Florence +continually lent her amusing books, her aunt took great interest in +her music, and she spent much time in practising. The mornings +were cold and dark, and she could not rise early, and thus her time +slipped away, she knew not how, uselessly and unsatisfactorily. +The three younger ones were left more to themselves, and to the maids. +Jane sought for amusement in village gossip, and the little ones, finding +the nursery more agreeable than the deserted drawing-room, made Esther +their companion.<br> +<br> +Mr. Mohun had, at this time, an unusual quantity of business on his +hands; he saw that the girls were not going on well, but he had reasons +for not interfering at present, and he looked forward to Eleanor’s +visit as the conclusion of their trial.<br> +<br> +‘I cannot think,’ said Marianne Weston one day to her sister, +‘why Mr. Mohun comes here so often.’<br> +<br> +Alethea told her he had some business with their mamma, and she thought +no more of the matter, till she was one day questioned by Jane. +She was rather afraid of Jane, who, as she thought, disliked her, and +wished to turn her into ridicule; so it was with no satisfaction that +she found herself separated from the others in the course of a walk, +and submitted to a cross-examination.<br> +<br> +Jane asked, in a mysterious manner, who had been at Broomhill that morning.<br> +<br> +‘Mr. Mohun,’ said Marianne.<br> +<br> +‘What did he go there for?’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Alethea says he has some business with mamma.’<br> +<br> +‘Then you did not hear what it was?’<br> +<br> +‘I was not in the room.’<br> +<br> +‘Are you never there when he comes?’<br> +<br> +‘Sometimes.’<br> +<br> +‘And is Alethea there?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh yes!’<br> +<br> +‘His business must be with her too. Cannot you guess it?’<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Marianne, looking amazed.<br> +<br> +‘How can you be so slow?’<br> +<br> +‘I am not sure that I would guess if I could,’ said Marianne, +‘for I do not think they wish me to know.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! nonsense, it is fine fun to find out secrets,’ said +Jane. ‘You will know it at last, you may be sure, so there +can be no harm in making it out beforehand, so as to have the pleasure +of triumph when the wise people vouchsafe to admit you into their confidence; +I am sure I know it all.’<br> +<br> +‘Then please do not tell me, Jane, I ought not to hear it.’<br> +<br> +‘Little Mrs. Propriety,’ said Jane, ‘you are already +assuming all the dignity of my Aunt Marianne, and William’s Aunt +Marianne - oh! and of little Henry’s Great-aunt Marianne. +Now,’ she added, laughing, ‘can you guess the secret?’<br> +<br> +Marianne stood still in amazement for a moment, and then exclaimed, +‘Jane, Jane! you do not mean it, you are only trying to tease +me.’<br> +<br> +‘I am quite serious,’ said Jane. ‘You will see +that I am right.’<br> +<br> +Here they were interrupted, and as soon as she returned from her walk +Marianne, perplexed and amazed, went to her mother, and told her all +that Jane had said.<br> +<br> +‘How can she be so silly?’ said Mrs. Weston.<br> +<br> +‘Then it is all nonsense, as I thought,’ said Marianne, +joyfully. ‘I should not like Alethea to marry an old man.’<br> +<br> +‘Mr. Mohun is very unlikely to make himself ridiculous,’ +said Mrs. Weston. ‘Do not say anything of it to Alethea; +it would only make her uncomfortable.’<br> +<br> +‘If it had been Captain Mohun, now - ’ Marianne stopped, +and blushed, finding her speech unanswered.<br> +<br> +A few days after, Mr. Mohun overtook Marianne and her mother, as he +was riding home from Raynham, and dismounting, led his horse, and walked +on with them. Either not perceiving Marianne, or not caring whether +she heard him, he said,<br> +<br> +‘Has Miss Weston received the letter she expected?’<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Mrs. Weston, ‘she thinks, as there is no +answer, the family must be gone abroad, and very probably they have +taken Miss Aylmer with them; but she has written to another friend to +ask about them.’<br> +<br> +‘From all I hear,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘I should prefer +waiting to hear from her, before we make further inquiries; we shall +not be ready before midsummer, as I should wish my eldest daughter to +assist me in making this important decision.’<br> +<br> +‘In that case,’ said Mrs. Weston, ‘there will be plenty +of time to communicate with her. I can see some of the friends +of the family when I go to London, for we must not leave Mr. Weston +in solitude another spring.’<br> +<br> +‘Perhaps I shall see you there,’ said Mr. Mohun. ‘I +have some business in London, and I think I shall meet the Hawkesworths +there in May or June.’<br> +<br> +After a little more conversation Mr. Mohun took his leave, and as soon +as he had ridden on, Marianne said, ‘Oh! mamma, I could not help +hearing.’<br> +<br> +‘My dear,’ said Mrs. Weston, ‘I know you may be trusted; +but I should not have told you, as you may find such a secret embarrassing +when you are with your young friends.’<br> +<br> +‘And so they are to have a governess?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes; and we are trying to find Miss Aylmer for them.’<br> +<br> +‘Miss Aylmer! I am glad of it; how much Phyllis and Ada +will like her!’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, it will be very good for them; I wish I knew the Grants’ +direction.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, I hope Jane will not question me any more; it will be very +difficult to manage, now I know the truth.’<br> +<br> +But poor Marianne was not to escape. Jane was on the watch to +find her alone, and as soon as an opportunity offered, she began:-<br> +<br> +‘Well, auntie, any discoveries?’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed, Jane, it is not right to fancy Mr. Mohun can do anything +so absurd.’<br> +<br> +‘That is as people may think,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘I wish you would not talk in that way,’ said Marianne.<br> +<br> +‘Now, Marianne,’ pursued the tormentor, ‘if you can +explain the mystery I will believe you, otherwise I know what to think.’<br> +<br> +‘I am certain you are wrong, Jane; but I can tell you no more.’<br> +<br> +‘Very well, my good aunt, I am satisfied.’<br> +<br> +Jane really almost persuaded herself that she was right, as she perceived +that her father was always promoting intercourse with the Westons, and +took pleasure in conversing with Alethea. She twisted everything +into a confirmation of her idea; while the prospect of having Miss Weston +for a stepmother increased her former dislike; but she kept her suspicions +to herself for the present, triumphing in the idea that, when the time +came, she could bring Marianne as a witness of her penetration.<br> +<br> +The intercourse between the elder Miss Mohuns and Miss Weston was, however, +not so frequent as formerly; and Alethea herself could not but remark +that, while Mr. Mohun seemed to desire to become more intimate, his +daughters were more backward in making appointments with her. +This was chiefly remarkable in Emily and Jane. Lilias was the +same in openness, earnestness, and affection; but there was either a +languor about her spirits or they were too much excited, and her talk +was more of novels, and less of poor children than formerly. The +constant visits to Devereux Castle prevented Emily and Lilias from being +as often as before at church, and thus they lost many walks and talks +that they used to enjoy in the way home. Marianne began to grow +indignant, especially on one occasion, when Emily and Lily went out +for a drive with Lady Rotherwood, forgetting that they had engaged to +take a walk with the Westons that afternoon.<br> +<br> +‘It is really a great deal too bad,’ said she to Alethea; +‘it is exactly what we have read of in books about grandeur making +people cast off their old friends.’<br> +<br> +‘Do not be unfair, Marianne,’ said Alethea. ‘Lady +Florence has a better right to - ’<br> +<br> +‘Better right!’ exclaimed Marianne. ‘What, because +she is a marquis’s daughter?’<br> +<br> +‘Because she is their cousin.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not believe Lilias really cares for her half as much as +for you,’ said Marianne. ‘It is all because they are +fine people.’<br> +<br> +‘Nay, Marianne, if our cousins were to come into this neighbourhood, +we should not be as dependent on the Mohuns as we now feel.’<br> +<br> +‘I hope we should not break our engagements with them.’<br> +<br> +‘Perhaps they could not help it. When their aunt came to +fetch them, knowing how seldom they can have the carriage, it would +have been scarcely civil to say that they had rather take a walk with +people they can see any day.’<br> +<br> +‘Last year Lilias would have let Emily go by herself,’ said +Marianne. ‘Alethea, they are all different since that Lady +Rotherwood came - all except Phyl. Ada is a great deal more conceited +than she was when she was staying here; she pulls out her curls, and +looks in the glass much more, and she is always talking about some one +having taken her for Lady Florence’s sister. And, Alethea, +just fancy, she does not like me to go through a gate before her, because +she says she has precedence!’<br> +<br> +Alethea was much amused, but she would not let Marianne condemn the +whole family for Ada’s folly. ‘It will all come right,’ +said she, ‘let us be patient and good-humoured, and nothing can +be really wrong.’<br> +<br> +Though Alethea made the best of it to her sister, she could not but +feel hurt, and would have been much more so if her temper had been jealous +or sentimental. Almost in spite of herself she had bestowed upon +Lilias no small share of her affection, and she would have been more +pained by her neglect if she had not partaken of that spirit which ‘thinketh +no evil, but beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, +and endureth all things.’<br> +<br> +Lilias was not satisfied with either herself, her home, her sisters, +or her school; she was far from being the fresh, happy creature that +she had been the year before. She had seen the fallacy of her +principle of love, but in her self-willed adherence to it she had lost +the strong sense and habit of duty which had once ruled her; and in +a vague and restless frame of mind, she merely sought from day to day +for pleasure and idle occupation. Lent came, but she was not roused, +she was only more uncomfortable when she saw the Rector, or Alethea, +or went to church. Alethea’s unfailing gentleness she felt +almost as a rebuke; and Mr. Devereux, though always kind and good-natured, +had ceased to speak to her of those small village matters in which she +used to be prime counsellor.<br> +<br> +The school became a burthen instead of a delight, and her attendance +there a fatigue. On going in one Sunday morning, very late, she +found Alethea teaching her class as well as her own. With a look +of vexation she inquired, as she took her place, if it was so very late, +and on the way to church she said again, ‘I thought I was quite +in time; I do not like to hurry the children - the distant ones have +not time to come. It was only half-past nine.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, Lilias,’ said Marianne, ‘it was twenty minutes +to ten, I know, for I had just looked at the clock.’<br> +<br> +‘That clock is always too fast,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +The next Sunday was very cold, and Lilias did not feel at all disposed +to leave the fire when the others prepared to go to the afternoon school.<br> +<br> +‘Is it time?’ said she. ‘I was chilled at church, +and my feet are still like ice; I will follow you in five minutes.’<br> +<br> +Alethea went, and Lilias lingered by the fire. Mrs. Weston once +asked her if she knew how late it was; but still she waited, until she +was startled by the sound of the bell for evening service. As +she went to church with Mrs. Weston and Emily she met Jane, who told +her that her class had been unemployed all the afternoon.<br> +<br> +‘I would have taken them,’ said she, ‘but that Robert +does not like me to teach the great girls, and I do think Alethea might +have heard them.’<br> +<br> +‘It is very provoking,’ said Lily, pettishly; ‘I thought +I might depend - ’ She turned and saw Miss Weston close +to her. ‘Oh, Alethea!’ said she, ‘I thought +you would have heard those girls.’<br> +<br> +‘I thought you were coming,’ said Alethea.<br> +<br> +‘So I was, but I am sure the bell rang too early. I do wish +you had taken them, Alethea.’<br> +<br> +‘I am sorry you are vexed,’ said Alethea, simply.<br> +<br> +‘What makes you think I am vexed? I only thought you liked +hearing my class.’<br> +<br> +They were by this time at the church door, and as they entered Alethea +blamed herself for feeling grieved, and Lily awoke to a sense of her +unreasonableness. She longed to tell Alethea how sorry she felt, +but she had no opportunity, and she resolved to go to Broomhill the +next day to make her confession. In the night, however, snow began +to fall, and the morning showed the February scene of thawing snow and +pouring rain. Going out was impossible, both on that day and the +next. Wednesday dawned fair and bright; but just after breakfast +Lily received a little note, with the intelligence that Mr. Weston had +arrived at Broomhill on Monday evening, and with his wife and daughters +was to set off that very day to make a visit to some friends on the +way to London. Had not the weather been so bad, Alethea said she +should have come to take leave of her New Court friends on Tuesday, +but she could now only send this note to tell them how sorry she was +to go without seeing them, and to beg Emily to send back a piece of +music which she had lent to her. The messenger was Faith Longley, +who was to accompany them, and who now was going home to take leave +of her mother, and would call again for the music in a quarter of an +hour. Lily ran to ask her when they were to go. ‘At +eleven,’ was the answer; and Lily telling her she need not call +again, as she herself would bring the music, went to look for it. +High and low did she seek, and so did Jane, but it was not to be found +in any nook, likely or unlikely; and when at last Lily, in despair, +gave up the attempt to find it, it was already a quarter to eleven. +Emily sent many apologies and civil messages, and Lily set out at a +rapid pace to walk to Broomhill by the road, for the thaw had rendered +the fields impassable. Fast as she walked, she was too late. +She had the mortification of seeing the carriage turn out at the gates, +and take the Raynham road; she was not even seen, nor had she a wave +of the hand, or a smile to comfort her.<br> +<br> +Almost crying with vexation, she walked home, and sat down to write +to Alethea, but, alas! she did not know where to direct a letter. +Bitterly did she repent of the burst of ill-temper which had stained +her last meeting with her friend, and she was scarcely comforted even +by the long and affectionate letter which she received a week after +their departure. Kindness from her was now forgiveness; never +did she so strongly feel Florence’s inferiority; and she wondered +at herself for having sought her society so much as to neglect her patient +and superior friend. She became careless and indifferent to Florence, +and yet she went on in her former course, following Emily, and fancying +that nothing at Beechcroft could interest her in the absence of her +dear Alethea Weston.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XVII: LITTLE AGNES<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘O guide us when our faithless hearts<br> + From Thee would start aloof,<br> +Where patience her sweet skill imparts,<br> + Beneath some cottage roof.’<br> +<br> +Palm Sunday brought Lily many regrets. It was the day of the school +prize giving, and she reflected with shame, how much less she knew about +the children than last year, and how little they owed to her; she feared +to think of the approach of Easter Day, a dread which she had never +felt before, and which she knew to be a very bad sign; but her regret +was not repentance - she talked, and laughed, and tried to feel at ease. +Agnes Eden’s happy face was the most pleasant sight on that day. +The little girl received a Bible, and as it was given to her her pale +face was coloured with bright pink, her blue eyes lighted up, her smile +was radiant with the beauty of innocence, but Lily could not look at +her without self-reproach. She resolved to make up for her former +neglect by double kindness, and determined that, at any rate, Passion +Week should be properly spent - she would not once miss going to church.<br> +<br> +But on Monday, when Emily proposed to ride to Devereux Castle, she assented, +only saying that they would return for evening service. She took +care to remind her sister when it was time to set out homewards; but +Emily was, as usual, so long in taking her leave that it was too late +to think of going to church when they set off.<br> +<br> +About two miles from Beechcroft Lily saw a little figure in a gray cloak +trudging steadily along the road, and as she came nearer she recognised +Kezia Grey. She stopped and asked the child what brought her so +far from home.<br> +<br> +‘I am going for the doctor, Miss,’ said the child.<br> +<br> +‘Is your mother worse?’ asked Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Mother is pretty well,’ said Kezia; ‘but it is for +Agnes Eden, Miss - she is terrible bad.’<br> +<br> +‘Poor little Agnes!’ exclaimed Lily. ‘Why, she +was at school yesterday.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, Miss, but she was taken bad last night.’<br> +<br> +After a moment’s consultation between the sisters, Kezia was told +that she might return home, and the servant who accompanied the Miss +Mohuns was sent to Raynham for the doctor. The next afternoon +Lily was just setting out to inquire for Agnes when Lord Rotherwood +arrived at the New Court with his sister. He wanted to show Florence +some of his favourite haunts at Beechcroft, and had brought her to join +his cousins in their walk. A very pleasant expedition they made, +but it led them so far from home that the church bell was heard pealing +over the woods far in the distance. Lily could not go to Mrs. +Eden’s cottage, because she did not know the nature of Agnes’s +complaint, and her aunt could not bear that Florence should go into +any house where there was illness. In the course of the walk, +however, she met Kezia, on her way to the New Court, to ask for a blister +for Agnes, the doctor having advised Mrs. Eden to apply to the Miss +Mohuns for one, as it was wanted quickly, and it was too far to send +to Raynham. Lily promised to send the blister as soon as possible, +and desired the little messenger to return home, where she was much +wanted, to help her mother, who had a baby of less than a week old.<br> +<br> +Alas! in the mirth and amusement of the evening Lily entirely forgot +the blister, until just as she went to bed, when she made one of her +feeble resolutions to take it, or send it early in the morning. +She only awoke just in time to be ready for breakfast, went downstairs +without one thought of the sick child, and never recollected her, until +at church, just before the Litany, she heard these words: ‘The +prayers of the congregation are desired for Agnes Eden.’<br> +<br> +She felt as if she had been shot, and scarcely knew where she was for +several moments. On coming out of church, she stood almost in +a dream, while Emily and Jane were talking to the Rector, who told them +how very ill the child was, and how little hope there was of her recovery. +He took leave of them, and Lily walked home, scarcely hearing the soothing +words with which Emily strove to comfort her. The meaning passed +away mournfully; Lily sat over the fire without speaking, and without +attempting to do anything. In the afternoon rain came on; but +Lily, too unhappy not to be restless, put on her bonnet and cloak, and +went out.<br> +<br> +She walked quickly up the hill, and entered the field where the cottage +stood. There she paused. She did not dare to knock at the +cottage door; she could not bear to speak to Mrs. Eden; she dreaded +the sight of Mrs. Grey or Kezia, and she gazed wistfully at the house, +longing, yet fearing, to know what was passing within it. She +wandered up and down the field, and at last was trying to make up her +mind to return home, when she heard footsteps behind her, and turning, +saw Mr. Devereux advancing along the path at the other end of the field.<br> +<br> +‘Have you been to inquire for Agnes?’ said he.<br> +<br> +‘I could not. I long to know, but I cannot bear to ask, +I cannot venture in.’<br> +<br> +‘Do you like to go in with me?’ said her cousin. ‘I +do not think you will see anything dreadful.’<br> +<br> +‘Thank you,’ said Lily, ‘I would give anything to +know about her.’<br> +<br> +‘How you tremble! but you need not be afraid.’<br> +<br> +He knocked at the door, but there was no answer; he opened it, and going +to the foot of the stairs, gently called Mrs. Eden, who came down calm +and quiet as ever, though very pale.<br> +<br> +‘How is she?’<br> +<br> +‘No better, sir, thank you, light-headed still.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Mrs. Eden, I am so sorry,’ sobbed Lily. +‘Oh! can you forgive me?’<br> +<br> +‘Pray do not take on so, Miss,’ said Mrs. Eden. ‘You +have always been a very kind friend to her, Miss Lilias. Do not +take on so, Miss. If it is His will, nothing could have made any +difference.’<br> +<br> +Lily was going to speak again, but Mr. Devereux stopped her, saying, +‘We must not keep Mrs. Eden from her, Lily.’<br> +<br> +‘Thank you, sir, her aunt is with her,’ said Mrs. Eden, +‘and no one is any good there now, she does not know any one. +Will you walk up and see her, sir? will you walk up, Miss Lilias?’<br> +<br> +Lily silently followed her cousin up the narrow stairs to the upper +room, where, in the white-curtained bed, lay the little child, tossing +about and moaning, her cheeks flushed with fever, and her blue eyes +wide open, but unconscious. A woman, whom Lily did not at first +perceive to be Mrs. Naylor, rose and courtsied on their entrance. +Agnes’s new Bible was beside her, and her mother told them that +she was not easy if it was out of sight for an instant.<br> +<br> +At this moment Agnes called out, ‘Mother,’ and Mrs. Eden +bent down to her, but she only repeated, ‘Mother’ two or +three times, and then began talking:<br> +<br> +‘Kissy, I want my bag - where is my thimble - no, not that I can’t +remember - my catechism-book - my godfathers and godmothers in my baptism, +wherein I was made a member - my Christian name - my name, it is my +Christian name; no, that is not it -<br> +<br> +<br> +“It is a name by which I am<br> + Writ in the hook of life,<br> +And here below a charm to keep,<br> + Unharmed by sin and strife;<br> +As often as my name I hear,<br> + I hear my Saviour’s voice.”’<br> +<br> +<br> +Then she began the Creed, but, breaking off, exclaimed, ‘Where +is my Bible, mother, I shall read it to-morrow - read that pretty verse +about “I am the good Shepherd - the Lord is my Shepherd, therefore +can I lack nothing - yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow +of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art within me.”<br> +<br> +<br> +“I now am of that little flock<br> + Which Christ doth call His own,<br> +For all His sheep He knows by name,<br> + And He of them is known.”’<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Let us call upon your good Shepherd, Agnes,’ said the pastor, +and the child turned her face towards him as if she understood him. +Kneeling down, he repeated the Lord’s Prayer, and the feeble voice +followed his. He then read the prayer for a sick child, and left +the room, for he saw that Lily would be quite overcome if she remained +there any longer. Mrs. Eden followed them downstairs, and again +stung poor Lily to the heart by thanks for all her kindness.<br> +<br> +They then left the house of mourning; Lily trembled violently, and clung +to her cousin’s arm for support. Her tears streamed fast, +but her sobs were checked by awe at Mrs. Eden’s calmness. +She felt as if she had been among the angels.<br> +<br> +‘How pale you are!’ said her cousin, ‘I would not +have taken you there if I thought it would overset you so much. +Come into Mrs. Grey’s, and sit down and recover a little.’<br> +<br> +‘No, no, do not let me see any one,’ said Lily. ‘Oh! +that dear child! Robert, let me tell you the worst, for your kindness +is more than I can bear. I promised Agnes a blister and forgot +it!’<br> +<br> +She could say no more for some minutes, but her cousin did not speak. +Recovering her voice, she added, ‘Only speak to me, Robert.’<br> +<br> +‘I am very sorry for you,’ answered he, in a kind tone.<br> +<br> +‘But tell me, what shall I do?’<br> +<br> +‘What to do, you ask,’ said the Rector; ‘I am not +sure that I know what you mean. If your neglect has added to her +sufferings, you cannot remove them; and I would not add to your sorrow +unless you wished me to do so for your good.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not see how I could be more unhappy than I am now,’ +said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘I think if you wish to turn your grief to good account you must +go a little deeper than this omission.’<br> +<br> +‘You mean that it is a result of general carelessness,’ +said Lily; ‘I know I have been in an odd idle way for some time; +I have often resolved, but I seem to have no power over myself.’<br> +<br> +‘May I ask you one question, Lily? How have you been spending +this Lent?’<br> +<br> +‘Robert, you are right,’ cried Lily; ‘you may well +ask. I know I have not gone to church properly, but how could +you guess the terrible way in which I have been indulging myself, and +excusing myself every unpleasant duty that came in my way? That +was the very reason of this dreadful neglect; well do I deserve to be +miserable at Easter, the proper time for joy. Oh! how different +it will be.’<br> +<br> +‘It will be, I hope, an Easter marked by repentance and amendment,’ +said the Rector.<br> +<br> +‘No, Robert, do not begin to be kind to me yet, you do not know +how very bad I have been,’ said Lily; ‘it all began from +just after Eleanor’s wedding. A mad notion came into my +head and laid hold of me. I fancied Eleanor stern, and cold, and +unlovable; I was ingratitude itself. I made a foolish theory, +that regard for duty makes people cold and stern, and that feeling, +which I confused with Christian love, was all that was worth having, +and the more Claude tried to cure me, the more obstinate I grew; I drew +Emily over to my side, and we set our follies above everything. +Justified ourselves for idling, neglecting the children, indulging ourselves, +calling it love, and so it was, self-love. So my temper has been +spoiling, and my mind getting worse and worse, ever since we lost Eleanor. +At last different things showed me the fallacy of my principle, but +then I do believe I was beyond my own management. I felt wrong, +and could not mend, and went on recklessly. You know but too well +what mischief I have done in the village, but you can never know what +harm I have done at home. I have seen more and more that I was +going on badly, but a sleep, a spell was upon me.’<br> +<br> +‘Perhaps the pain you now feel may be the means of breaking the +spell.’<br> +<br> +‘But is it not enough to drive me mad to think that improvement +in me should be bought at such a price - the widow’s only child?’<br> +<br> +‘You forget that the loss is a blessing to her.’<br> +<br> +‘Still I may pray that my punishment may not be through them,’ +said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Surely,’ was the answer, ‘it is grievous to see that +dear child cut off; and her patient mother left desolate - yet how much +more grievous it would be to see that spotless innocence defiled.’<br> +<br> +‘If it was to fall on any one,’ said Lilias, ‘I should +be thankful that it is on one so fit to die.’<br> +<br> +The church bell began to ring, and they quickened their steps in silence. +Presently Lily said, ‘Tell me of something to do, Robert, something +that may be a pledge that my sorrow is not a passing shower, something +unnecessary, but disagreeable, which may keep me in remembrance that +my Lent was not one of self-denial.’<br> +<br> +‘You must be able to find more opportunities of self-denial than +I can devise,’ said her cousin.<br> +<br> +‘Of course,’ said Lily; ‘but some one thing, some +punishment.’<br> +<br> +‘I will answer you to-morrow,’ said Mr. Devereux.<br> +<br> +‘One thing more,’ said Lily, looking down; ‘after +this great fall, ought I to come to next Sunday’s feast? +I would turn away if you thought fit.’<br> +<br> +‘Lily, you can best judge,’ said the Rector, kindly. +‘I should think that you were now in a humble, contrite frame, +and therefore better prepared than when self-confident.’<br> +<br> +‘How many times! how shall I think of them! but I will,’ +said Lily; ‘and Robert, will you think of me when you say the +Absolution now and next Sunday at the altar?’<br> +<br> +They were by this time at the church-porch. As Mr. Devereux uncovered +his head, he turned to Lilias, and said in a low tone, ‘God bless +you, Lilias, and grant you true repentance and pardon.’<br> +<br> +Early the next morning the toll of the passing-bell informed Lily that +the little lamb had been gathered into the heavenly fold.<br> +<br> +When she took her place in church she found in her Prayer-book a slip +of paper in the handwriting of her cousin. It was thus: ‘You +had better find out in which duty you have most failed, and let the +fulfilment of that be your proof of self-denial. R. D.’<br> +<br> +Afterwards Lily learnt that Agnes had been sensible for a short time +before her peaceful death. She had spoken much of her baptism, +had begged to be buried next to a little sister of Kezia’s, and +asked her mother to give her new Bible to Kezia.<br> +<br> +It was not till Sunday that Lilias felt as if she could ever be comforted. +Her heart was indeed ready to break as she walked at the head of the +school children behind the white-covered coffin, and she felt as if +she did not deserve to dwell upon the child’s present happiness; +but afterwards she was relieved by joining in prayer for the pardon +of our sins and negligences, and she felt as if she was forgiven, at +least by man, when she joined with Mrs. Eden in the appointed feast +of Easter Day.<br> +<br> +Mrs. Naylor was at church on that and several following Sundays; but +though her husband now showed every kindness to his sister, he still +obstinately refused to be reconciled to Mr. Devereux.<br> +<br> +For many weeks poor little Kezia looked very unhappy. Her blithe +smiles were gone, her eyes filled with tears whenever she was reminded +of her friend, she walked to school alone, she did not join the sports +of the other children, but she kept close to the side of Mrs. Eden, +and seemed to have no pleasure but with her, or in nursing her little +sister, who, two Sundays after the funeral, was christened by the name +of Agnes.<br> +<br> +It was agreed by Mr. Mohun and Lilias that the grave of the little girl +should be marked by a stone cross, thus inscribed<br> +<br> +‘AGNES EDEN,<br> +April 8th, 1846,<br> +Aged 7 years.<br> +“He shall gather the lambs in His arms.”’<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XVIII: DOUBLE, DOUBLE TOIL AND TROUBLE<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Truly the tender mercies of the weak,<br> +As of the wicked, are but cruel.’<br> +<br> +And how did Lilias show that she had been truly benefited by her sorrows? +Did she fall back into her habits of self-indulgence, or did she run +into ill-directed activity, selfish as her indolence, because only gratifying +the passion of the moment?<br> +<br> +Those who lived with her saw but little change; kind-hearted and generous +she had ever been, and many had been her good impulses, so that while +she daily became more steady in well-doing, and exerting herself on +principle, no one remarked it, and no one entered into the struggles +which it cost her to tame her impetuosity, or force herself to do what +was disagreeable to herself, and might offend Emily.<br> +<br> +However, Emily could forgive a great deal when she found that Lily was +ready to take any part of the business of the household and schoolroom, +which she chose to impose upon her, without the least objection, yet +to leave her to assume as much of the credit of managing as she chose +- to have no will or way of her own, and to help her to keep her wardrobe +in order.<br> +<br> +The schoolroom was just now more of a labour than had ever been the +case, at least to one who, like Lilias, if she did a thing at all, would +not be satisfied with half doing it. Phyllis was not altered, +except that she cried less, and had in a great measure cured herself +of dawdling habits and tricks, by her honest efforts to obey well-remembered +orders of Eleanor’s; but still her slowness and dulness were trying +to her teachers, and Lily had often to reproach herself for being angry +with her ‘when she was doing her best.’<br> +<br> +But Adeline was Lily’s principal trouble; there was a change in +her, for which her sister could not account. Last year, when Eleanor +left them, Ada was a sweet-tempered, affectionate child, docile, gentle, +and, excepting a little occasional affectation and carelessness, very +free from faults; but now her attention could hardly be commanded for +five minutes together; she had lost the habit of ready and implicit +obedience, was petulant when reproved, and was far more eager to attract +notice from strangers - more conceited, and, therefore, more affected, +and, worse than all, Lily sometimes thought she perceived a little slyness, +though she was never able to prove any one instance completely to herself, +much less to bring one before her father. Thus, if Ada had done +any mischief, she would indeed confess it on being examined; but when +asked why she had not told of it directly, would say she had forgotten; +she would avail herself of Phyllis’s assistance in her lessons +without acknowledging it, and Lilias found it was by no means safe to +leave the Key to the French Exercises alone in the room with her.<br> +<br> +Emily’s mismanagement had fostered Ada’s carelessness and +inattention. Lady Rotherwood’s injudicious caresses helped +to make her more affected; other faults had grown up for want of sufficient +control, but this last was principally Esther’s work. Esther +had done well at school; she liked learning, was stimulated by notice, +was really attached to Lilias, and tried to deserve her goodwill; but +her training at school and at home were so different, that her conduct +was, even at the best, far too much of eye-service, and she had very +little idea of real truth and sincerity.<br> +<br> +On first coming to the New Court she flattered the children, because +she did not know how to talk to them otherwise, and afterwards, because +she found that Miss Ada’s affections were to be gained by praise. +Then, in her ignorant good-nature, she had no scruples about concealing +mischief which the children had done, or procuring for Ada little forbidden +indulgences on her promise of secrecy, a promise which Phyllis would +not give, thus putting a stop to all those in which she would have participated. +It was no wonder that Ada, sometimes helping Esther to deceive, sometimes +deceived by her, should have learnt the same kind of cunning, and ceased +to think it a matter of course to be true and just in all her dealings.<br> +<br> +But how was it that Phyllis remained the same ‘honest Phyl’ +that she had ever been, not one word savouring of aught but strict truth +having ever crossed her lips, her thoughts and deeds full of guileless +simplicity? She met with the same temptations, the same neglect, +the same bad example, as her sister; why had they no effect upon her? +In the first place, flattery could not touch her, it was like water +on a duck’s back, she did not know that it was flattery, but so +thoroughly humble was her mind that no words of Esther’s would +make her believe herself beautiful, agreeable, or clever. Yet +she never found out that Esther over-praised her sister; she admired +Ada so much that she never suspected that any commendation of her was +more than she deserved. Again, Phyllis never thought of making +herself appear to advantage, and her humility saved her from the habit +of concealing small faults, for which she expected no punishment; and, +when seriously to blame, punishment seemed so natural a consequence, +that she never thought of avoiding it, otherwise than by expressing +sorrow for her fault. She was uninfected by Esther’s deceit, +though she never suspected any want of truth; her singleness of mind +was a shield from all evil; she knew she was no favourite in the nursery, +but she never expected to be liked as much as Ada, her pride and glory. +In the meantime Emily went on contriving opportunities and excuses for +spending her time at Devereux Castle, letting everything fall into Lily’s +hands, everything that she had so eagerly undertaken little more than +a year ago. And now all was confusion; the excellent order in +which Eleanor had left the household affairs was quite destroyed. +Attention to the storeroom was one of the ways in which Lilias thought +that she could best follow the advice of Mr. Devereux, since Eleanor +had always taught that great exactness in this point was most necessary. +Great disorder now, however, prevailed there, and she found that her +only chance of rectifying it was to measure everything she found there, +and to beg Emily to allow her to keep the key; for, when several persons +went to the storeroom, no one ever knew what was given out, and she +was sure that the sweet things diminished much faster than they ought +to do; but her sister treated the proposal as an attempt to deprive +her of her dignity, and she was silenced.<br> +<br> +She was up almost with the light, to despatch whatever household affairs +could be settled without Emily, before the time came for the children’s +lessons; many hours were spent on these, while she was continually harassed +by Phyllis’s dulness, Ada’s inattention, and the interruption +of work to do for Emily, and often was she baffled by interference from +Jane or Emily. She was conscious of her unfitness to teach the +children, and often saw that her impatience, ignorance, and inefficiency, +were doing mischief; but much as this pained her, she could not speak +to her father without compromising her sister, and to argue with Emily +herself was quite in vain. Emily had taken up the principle of +love, and defended herself with it on every occasion, so that poor Lily +was continually punished by having her past follies quoted against herself.<br> +<br> +Each day Emily grew more selfish and indolent; now that Lily was willing +to supply all that she neglected, and to do all that she asked, she +proved how tyrannical the weak can be.<br> +<br> +The whole of her quarter’s allowance was spent in dress, and Lily +soon found that the only chance of keeping her out of debt was to spend +her own time and labour in her behalf; and what an exertion of patience +and kindness this required can hardly be imagined. Emily did indeed +reward her skill with affectionate thanks and kind praises, but she +interfered with her sleep and exercise, by her want of consideration, +and hardened herself more and more in her apathetic selfishness.<br> +<br> +Some weeks after Easter Lilias was arranging some books on a shelf in +the schoolroom, when she met with a crumpled piece of music-paper, squeezed +in behind the books. It proved to be Miss Weston’s lost +song, creased, torn, dust-stained, and spoiled; she carried it to Emily, +who decided that nothing could be done but to copy it for Alethea, and +apologise for the disaster. Framing apologies was more in Emily’s +way than copying music; and the former task, therefore, devolved upon +Lily, and occupied her all one afternoon, when she ought to have been +seeking a cure for the headache in the fresh air. It was no cure +to find the name of Emma Weston in the corner, and to perceive how great +and irreparable the loss of the paper was to her friend. The thought +of all her wrongs towards Alethea, caused more than one large tear to +fall, to blot the heads of her crotchets and quavers, and thus give +her all her work to do over again.<br> +<br> +The letter that she wrote was so melancholy and repentant, that it gave +great pain to her kind friend, who thought illness alone could account +for the dejection apparent in the general tone of all her expressions. +In answer, she sent a very affectionate consoling letter, begging Lily +to think no more of the matter; and though she had too much regard for +truth to say that she had not been grieved by the loss of Emma’s +writing, she added that Lily’s distress gave her far more pain, +and that her copy would have great value in her eyes.<br> +<br> +The beginning of June now arrived, and brought with it the time for +the return of Claude and Lord Rotherwood.<br> +<br> +The Marquis’s carriage met him at Raynham, and he set down Claude +at New Court, on his way to Hetherington, just coming in to exchange +a hurried greeting with the young ladies.<br> +<br> +Their attention was principally taken up by their brother.<br> +<br> +‘Claude, how well you look! How fat you are!’ was +their exclamation.<br> +<br> +‘Is not he?’ said Lord Rotherwood. ‘I am quite +proud of him. Not one headache since he went. He will have +no excuse for not dancing the polka.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not return the compliment to you, Lily,’ said Claude, +looking anxiously at his sister. ‘What is the matter with +you? Have you been ill?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, no! not at all!’ said Lily, smiling.<br> +<br> +‘I am sure there is enough to make any one ill,’ said Emily, +in her deplorable tone; ‘I thought this poor parish had had its +share of illness, with the scarlet fever, and now it has turned to a +horrible typhus fever.’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed!’ said Claude. ‘Where? Who?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! the Naylors, and the Rays, and the Walls. John Ray +died this morning, and they do not think that Tom Naylor will live.’<br> +<br> +‘Well,’ interrupted Lord Rotherwood, ‘I shall not +stop to hear any more of this chapter of accidents. I am off, +but mind, remember the 30th, and do not any of you frighten yourselves +into the fever.’<br> +<br> +He went, and Lily now spoke. ‘There is one thing in all +this, Claude, that is matter of joy, Tom Naylor has sent for Robert.’<br> +<br> +‘Then, Lily, I do most heartily congratulate you.’<br> +<br> +‘I hope things may go better,’ said Lily, with tears in +her eyes. ‘The poor baby is with its grandmother. +Mrs. Naylor is ill too, and every one is so afraid of the fever that +nobody goes near them but Robert, and Mrs. Eden, and old Dame Martin. +Robert says Naylor is in a satisfactory frame - determined on having +the baby christened - but, oh! I am afraid the christening is to be +bought by something terrible.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not think those fevers are often very infectious,’ +said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘So papa says,’ replied Emily; ‘but Robert looks very +ill. He is wearing himself out with sitting up. Making himself +nurse as well as everything else.’<br> +<br> +This was very distressing, but still Claude scarcely thought it accounted +for the change that had taken place in Lilias. Her cheek was pale, +her eye heavy, her voice had lost its merry tone; Claude knew that she +had had much to grieve her, but he was as yet far from suspecting how +she was overworked and harassed. He spoke of Eleanor’s return, +and she did not brighten; she smiled sadly at his attempts to cheer +her, and he became more and more anxious about her. He was not +long in discovering what was the matter.<br> +<br> +The second day after his return Robert told them at the churchyard gate +that Tom Naylor was beginning to mend, and this seemed to be a great +comfort to Lily, who walked home with a blither step than usual. +Claude betook himself to the study, and saw no more of his sisters till +two o’clock, when Lily appeared, with the languid, dejected look +which she had lately worn, and seemed to find it quite an effort to +keep the tears out of her eyes. Ada and Phyllis were in very high +spirits, because they were going to Raynham with Emily and Jane, and +at every speech of Ada’s Lily looked more grieved. After +the Raynham party were gone Claude began to look for Lily. He +found her in her room, an evening dress spread on the bed, a roll of +ribbon in one hand, and with the other supporting her forehead, while +tears were slowly rolling down her cheeks.<br> +<br> +‘Lily, my dear, what is the matter?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! nothing, nothing, Claude,’ said she, quickly.<br> +<br> +‘Nothing! no, that is not true. Tell me, Lily. You +have been disconsolate ever since I came home, and I will not let it +go on so. No answer? Then am I to suppose that these new +pearlins are the cause of her sorrow? Come, Lily, be like yourself, +and speak. More tears! Here, drink this water, be yourself +again, or I shall be angry and vexed. Now then, that is right: +make an effort, and tell me.’<br> +<br> +‘There is nothing to tell,’ said Lily; ‘only you are +very kind - I do not know what is the matter with me - only I have been +very foolish of late - and everything makes me cry.’<br> +<br> +‘My poor child, I knew you had not been well. They do not +know how to take care of you, Lily, and I shall take you in hand. +I am going to order the horses, and we will have a gallop over the Downs, +and put a little colour into your cheeks.’<br> +<br> +‘No, no, thank you, Claude, I cannot come, indeed I cannot, I +have this work, which must be done to-day.’<br> +<br> +‘At work at your finery instead of coming out! You must +be altered, indeed, Lily.’<br> +<br> +‘It is not for myself,’ said Lily, ‘but I promised +Emily she should have it ready to wear to-morrow.’<br> +<br> +‘Emily, oh? So she is making a slave of you?’<br> +<br> +‘No, no, it was a voluntary promise. She does not care about +it, only she would be disappointed, and I have promised.’<br> +<br> +‘I hate promises!’ said Claude. ‘Well, what +must be, must be, so I will resign myself to this promise of yours, +only do not make such another. Well, but that was not all; you +were not crying about that fine green thing, were you?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, no!’ said Lily, smiling, as now she could smile again.<br> +<br> +‘What then? I will know, Lily.’<br> +<br> +‘I was only vexed at something about the children.’<br> +<br> +‘Then what was it?’<br> +<br> +‘It was only that Ada was idle at her lessons; I told her to learn +a verb as a punishment, she went to Emily, and, somehow or other, Emily +did not find out the exact facts, excused her, and took her to Raynham. +I was vexed, because I am sure it does Ada harm, and Emily did not understand +what I said afterwards; I am sure she thought me unjust.’<br> +<br> +‘How came she not to be present?’<br> +<br> +‘Emily does not often sit in the schoolroom in the morning, since +she has been about that large drawing.’<br> +<br> +‘So you are governess as well as ladies’-maid, are you, +Lily? What else? Housekeeper, I suppose, as I see you have +all the weekly bills on your desk. Why, Lily, this is perfectly +philanthropic of you. You are exemplifying the rule of love in +a majestic manner. Crying again! Water lily once more?’<br> +<br> +Lily looked up, and smiled; ‘Claude, how can you talk of that +old, silly, nay, wicked nonsense of my principle. I was wise above +what was written, and I have my punishment in the wreck which my “frenzy +of spirit and folly of tongue” have wrought. The unchristened +child, Agnes’s death, the confusion of this house, all are owing +to my hateful principle. I see the folly of it now, but Emily +has taken it up, and acts upon it in everything. I do struggle +against it a little; but I cannot blame any one, I can do no good, it +is all owing to me. We have betrayed papa’s confidence; +if he does not see it now it will all come upon him when Eleanor comes +home, and what is to become of us? How it will grieve him to see +that we cannot be trusted!’<br> +<br> +‘Poor Lily!’ said Claude. ‘It is a bad prospect, +but I think you see the worst side of it. You are not well, and, +therefore, doleful. This, Lily, I can tell you, that the Baron +always considered Emily’s government as a kind of experiment, +and so perhaps he will not be so grievously disappointed as you expect. +Besides, I have a strong suspicion that Emily’s own nature has +quite as much to do with her present conduct as your principle, which, +after all, did not live very long.’<br> +<br> +‘Just long enough to unsettle me, and make it more difficult for +me to get any way right,’ said Lily. ‘Oh! dear, what +would I give to force backward the wheels of time!’<br> +<br> +‘But as you cannot, you had better try to brighten up your energies. +Come, you know I cannot tell you not to look back, but I can tell you +not to look forward. Nay, I do tell you literally, to look forward, +out of the window, instead of back into this hot room. Do not +you think the plane-tree there looks very inviting? Suppose we +transport Emily’s drapery there, and I want to refresh my memory +with Spenser; I do not think I have touched him since plane-tree time +last year.’<br> +<br> +‘I believe Spenser and the plane-tree are inseparably woven together +in your mind,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Yes, ever since the time when I first met with the book. +I remember well roving over the bookcase, and meeting with it, and taking +it out there, for fear Eleanor should see me and tell mama. Phyl, +with <i>As You Like It, </i>put me much in mind of myself with that.’<br> +<br> +Claude talked in this manner, while Lily, listening with a smile, prepared +her work. He read, and she listened. It was such a treat +as she had not enjoyed for a long time, for she had begun to think that +all her pleasant reading days were past. Her work prospered, and +her face was bright when her sisters came home.<br> +<br> +But, alas! Emily was not pleased with her performance; she said +that she intended something quite different, and by manner, rather than +by words, indicated that she should not be satisfied unless Lily completely +altered it. It was to be worn at the castle the next evening, +and Lily knew she should have no time for it in the course of the day. +Accordingly, at half-past twelve, as Claude was going up to bed, he +saw a light under his sister’s door, and knocked to ask the cause. +Lily was still at work upon the trimming, and very angry he was, particularly +when she begged him to take care not to disturb Emily. At last, +by threatening to awake her, for the express purpose of giving her a +scolding, he made Lily promise to go to bed immediately, a promise which +she, poor weary creature, was very glad to make.<br> +<br> +Claude now resolved to tell his father the state of things, for he well +knew that though it was easy to obtain a general promise from Emily, +it was likely to be of little effect in preventing her from spurring +her willing horse to death.<br> +<br> +The next morning he rose in time to join his father in the survey which +he usually took of his fields before breakfast, and immediately beginning +on the subject on which he was anxious, he gave a full account of his +sister’s proceedings. ‘In short,’ said he, ‘Emily +and Ada torment poor Lily every hour of her life; she bears it all as +a sort of penance, and how it is to end I cannot tell.’<br> +<br> +‘Unless,’ said Mr. Mohun, smiling, ‘as Rotherwood +would say, Jupiter will interfere. Well, Jupiter has begun to +take measures, and has asked Mrs. Weston to look out for a governess. +Eh! Claude?’ he continued, after a pause, ‘you set +up your eyebrows, do you? You think it will be a bore. Very +likely, but there is nothing else to be done. Jane is under no +control, Phyllis running wild, Ada worse managed than any child of my +acquaintance - ’<br> +<br> +‘And poor Lily wearing herself to a shadow, in vain attempts to +mend matters,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘If Lily was the eldest, things would be very different,’ +said Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘Or even if she had been as wise last year as she is now,’ +said Claude, ‘she would have kept Emily in order then, but now +it is too late.’<br> +<br> +‘This year is, on many accounts, much to be regretted,’ +said Mr. Mohun, ‘but I think it has brought out Lily’s character.’<br> +<br> +‘And a very fine character it is,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Very. She has been, and is, more childish than Eleanor +ever was, but she is her superior in most points. She has been +your pupil, Claude, and she does you credit.’<br> +<br> +‘Thereby hangs a tale which does me no credit,’ muttered +Claude, as he remembered how foolishly he had roused her spirit of contradiction, +besides the original mischief of naming Eleanor the duenna; ‘but +we will not enter into that now. I see this governess is their +best chance. Have you heard of one?’<br> +<br> +‘Of several; but the only one who seems likely to suit us is out +of reach for the present, and I do not regret it, for I shall not decide +till Eleanor comes.’<br> +<br> +‘Emily will not be much pleased,’ said Claude. ‘It +has long been her great dread that Aunt Rotherwood should recommend +one.’<br> +<br> +‘Ay, Emily’s objections and your aunt’s recommendations +are what I would gladly avoid,’ said Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘But Lily!’ said Claude, returning to the subject on which +he was most anxious. ‘She is already what Ada calls a monotony, +and there will be nothing left of her by the time Eleanor comes, if +matters go on in their present fashion.’<br> +<br> +‘I have a plan for her. A little change will set her to +rights, and we will take her to London when we go next week to meet +Eleanor. She deserves a little extra pleasure; you must take her +under your protection, and lionise her well.’<br> +<br> +‘Trust me for that,’ said Claude. ‘It is the +best news I have heard for a long time.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, I am glad that one of my remedies meets with your approbation,’ +said his father, smiling. ‘For the other, you are much inclined +to pronounce the cure as bad as the disease.’<br> +<br> +‘Not for Lily,’ said Claude, laughing.<br> +<br> +‘And,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘I think I can promise you +that a remedy will be found for all the other grievances by Michaelmas.’<br> +<br> +Claude looked surprised, but as Mr. Mohun explained no further, only +observing upon the potatoes, through which they were walking, he only +said, ‘Then it is next week that you go to London.’<br> +<br> +‘There is much to do, both for Rotherwood and for Eleanor; I shall +go as soon as I can, but I do not think it will be while this fever +is so prevalent. I had rather not be from home - I do not like +Robert’s looks.’<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XIX: THE RECTOR’S ILLNESS<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Thou drooping sick man, bless the guide<br> +That checked, or turned thy headstrong youth.’<br> +<br> +The thought of her brother’s kindness, and the effect of his consolation, +made Lilias awake that morning in more cheerful spirits; but it was +not long before grief and anxiety again took possession of her.<br> +<br> +The first sound that she heard on opening the schoolroom window was +the tolling of the church bell, giving notice of the death of another +of those to whom she felt bound by the ties of neighbourhood.<br> +<br> +At church she saw that Mr. Devereux was looking more ill than he yet +had done, and it was plainly with very great exertion that he succeeded +in finishing the service. The Mohun party waited, as usual, to +speak to him afterwards, for since his attendance upon Naylor had begun +he had not thought it safe to come to the New Court as usual, lest he +should bring the infection to them. He was very pale, and walked +wearily, but he spoke cheerfully, as he told them that Naylor was now +quite out of danger.<br> +<br> +‘Then I hope you did not stay there all last night,’ said +Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘No, I did not, I was so tired when I came back from poor John +Ray’s funeral, that I thought I would take a holiday, and sleep +at home.’<br> +<br> +‘I am afraid you have not profited by your night’s rest,’ +said Emily, ‘you look as if you had a horrible headache.’<br> +<br> +‘Now,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘I prescribe for you that you +go home and lie down. I am going to Raynham, and I will tell your +friend there that you want help for the evening service. Do not +think of moving again to-day. I shall send Claude home with you +to see that you obey my prescription.’<br> +<br> +Claude went home with his cousin, and his sisters saw him no more till +late in the day, when he came to tell them that Mr. Mohun had brought +back Dr. Leslie from Raynham with him, that Dr. Leslie had seen Mr. +Devereux, and had pronounced that he had certainly caught the fever.<br> +<br> +Lily had made up her mind to this for some time, but still it seemed +almost as great a blow as if it had come without any preparation. +The next day was the first Sunday that Mr. Devereux had not read the +service since he had been Rector of Beechcroft. The villagers +looked sadly at the stranger who appeared in his place, and many tears +were shed when the prayers of the congregation were desired for Robert +Devereux, and Thomas and Martha Naylor. It was announced that +the daily service would be discontinued for the present, and Lily felt +as if all the blessings which she had misused were to be taken from +her.<br> +<br> +For some time Mr. Devereux continued very ill, and Dr. Leslie gave little +hope of his improvement. Mr. Mohun and Claude were his constant +attendants - an additional cause of anxiety to the Miss Mohuns. +Emily was listless and melancholy, talking in a maundering, dismal way, +not calculated to brace her spirits or those of her sisters. Jane +was not without serious thoughts, but whether they would benefit her +depended on herself; for, as we have seen by the events of the autumn, +sorrow and suffering do not necessarily produce good effects, though +some effects they always produce.<br> +<br> +Thus it was with Lilias. Grief and anxiety aided her in subduing +her will and learning resignation. She did not neglect her daily +duties, but was more exact in their fulfilment; and low as her spirits +had been before, she now had an inward spring which enabled her to be +the support of the rest. She was useful to her father, always +ready to talk to Claude, or walk with him in the intervals when he was +sent out of the sickroom to rest and breathe the fresh air. She +was cheerful and patient with Emily, and devoid of petulance when annoyed +by the spirits of the younger ones rising higher than accorded with +the sad and anxious hearts of their elders. Her most painful feeling +was, that it was possible that she might be punished through her cousin, +as she had already been through Agnes; that her follies might have brought +this distress upon every one, and that this was the price at which the +child’s baptism was to be bought. Yet Lily would not have +changed her present thoughts for any of her varying frames of mind since +that fatal Whitsuntide. Better feelings were springing up within +her than she had then known; the church service and Sunday were infinitely +more to her, and she was beginning to obtain peace of mind independent +of external things.<br> +<br> +She could not help rejoicing to see how many evidences of affection +to the Rector were called forth by this illness; presents of fruit poured +in from all quarters, from Lord Rotherwood’s choice hothouse grapes, +to poor little Kezia Grey’s wood-strawberries; inquiries were +continual, and the stillness of the village was wonderful. There +was no cricket on the hill, no talking in the street, no hallooing in +the hay-field, and no burst of noise when the children were let out +of school. Many of the people were themselves in grief for the +loss of their own relations; and when on Sunday the Miss Mohuns saw +how many were dressed in black, they thought with a pang how soon they +themselves might be mourning for one whose influence they had crippled, +and whose plans they had thwarted during the three short years of his +ministry.<br> +<br> +During this time it was hard to say whether Lord Rotherwood was more +of a comfort or a torment. He was attached to his cousin with +all the ardour of his affectionate disposition, and not one day passed +without his appearing at Beechcroft. At first it was always in +the parlour at the parsonage that he took up his station, and waited +till he could find some means of getting at Claude or his uncle, to +hear the last report from them, and if possible to make Claude come +out for a walk or ride with him. And once Mr. Mohun caught him +standing just outside Mr. Devereux’s door, waiting for an opportunity +to make an entrance. He could not, or would not see why Mr. Mohun +should allow Claude to run the risk of infection rather than himself, +and thus he kept his mother in continual anxiety, and even his uncle +could not feel by any means certain that he would not do something imprudent. +At last a promise was extracted from him that he would not again enter +the parsonage, but he would not gratify Lady Rotherwood so far as to +abstain from going to Beechcroft, a place which she began to regard +with horror. He now was almost constantly at the New Court, talking +over the reports, and quite provoking Emily by never desponding, and +never choosing to perceive how bad things really were. Every day +which was worse than the last was supposed to be the crisis, and every +restless sleep that they heard of he interpreted into the beginning +of recovery. At last, however, after ten days of suspense, the +report began to improve, and Claude came to the New Court with a more +cheerful face, to say that his cousin was munch better. The world +seemed immediately to grow brighter, people went about with joyful looks, +Lord Rotherwood declared that from the first he had known all would +be well, and Lily began to hope that now she had been spared so heavy +a punishment, it was a kind of earnest that other things would mend, +that she had suffered enough. The future no longer hung before +her in such dark colours as before Mr. Devereux’s illness, though +still the New Court was in no satisfactory state, and still she had +reason to expect that her father and Eleanor would be disappointed and +grieved. Thankfulness that Mr. Devereux was recovering, and that +Claude had escaped the infection, made her once more hopeful and cheerful; +she let the morrow take thought for the things of itself, rejoicing +that it was not her business to make arrangements.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XX: THE LITTLE NEPHEW<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘You must be father, mother, both,<br> + And uncle, all in one.’<br> +<br> +Mr. Mohun had much business to transact in London which he could not +leave undone, and as soon as his nephew began to recover he thought +of setting off to meet Mr. and Mrs. Hawkesworth, who had already been +a week at Lady Rotherwood’s house in Grosvenor Square, which she +had lent to them for the occasion. Claude had intended to stay +at home, as his cousin was not yet well enough to leave the room; but +just at this time a college friend of the Rector’s, hearing of +his illness, wrote to propose to come and stay with him for a month +or six weeks, and help him in serving his church. Mr. Devereux +was particularly glad to accept this kind offer, as it left him no longer +dependent on Mr. Stephens and the Raynham curates, and set Claude at +liberty for the London expedition. All was settled in the short +space of one day. The very next they were to set off, and in great +haste; Lily did all she could for the regulation of the house, packed +up her goods, and received the commissions of her sisters.<br> +<br> +Ada gave her six shillings, with orders to buy either a doll or a book +- the former if Eleanor did not say it was silly; and Phyllis put into +her hands a weighty crown piece, begging for as many things as it could +buy. Jane’s wants and wishes were moderate and sensible, +and she gave Lily the money for them. With Emily there was more +difficulty. All Lily’s efforts had not availed to prevent +her from contracting two debts at Raynham. More than four pounds +she owed to Lily, and this she offered to pay her, giving her at the +same time a list of commissions sufficient to swallow up double her +quarter’s allowance. Lily, though really in want of the +money for her own use, thought the debts at Raynham so serious, that +she begged Emily to let her wait for payment till it was convenient, +and to pay the shoemaker and dressmaker immediately.<br> +<br> +Emily thanked her, and promised to do so as soon as she could go to +Raynham, and Lily next attempted to reduce her list of London commissions +to something more reasonable. In part she succeeded, but it remained +a matter of speculation how all the necessary articles which she had +to buy for herself, and all Emily’s various orders, were to come +out of her own means, reduced as they were by former loans.<br> +<br> +The next day Lilias was on her way to London; feeling, as she left Beechcroft, +that it was a great relief that the schoolroom and storeroom could not +follow her. She was sorry that she should miss seeing Alethea +Weston, who was to come home the next day, but she left various messages +for her, and an affectionate note, and had received a promise from her +sisters that the copy of the music should be given to her the first +day that they saw her. Her journey afforded her much amusement, +and it was not till towards the end of the day that she had much time +for thinking, when, her companions being sleepily inclined, she was +left to her own meditations and to a dull country. She began to +revolve her own feelings towards Eleanor, and as she remembered the +contempt and ingratitude she had once expressed, she shrank from the +meeting with shame and dread, and knew that she should feel reproached +by Eleanor’s wonted calmness of manner. And as she mused +upon all that Eleanor had endured, and all that she had done, such a +reverence for suffering and sacrifice took possession of her mind that +she was ready to look up to her sister with awe. She began to +recollect old reproofs, and found herself sitting more upright, and +examining the sit of the folds of her dress with some uneasiness at +the thought of Eleanor’s preciseness. In the midst of her +meditations her two companions were roused by the slackening speed of +the train, and starting up, informed her that they were arriving at +their journey’s end. The next minute she heard her father +consigning her and the umbrellas to Mr. Hawkesworth’s care, and +all was bewilderment till she found herself in the hall of her aunt’s +house, receiving as warm and affectionate a greeting from Eleanor as +Emily herself could have bestowed.<br> +<br> +‘And the baby, Eleanor?’<br> +<br> +‘Asleep, but you shall see him; and how is Ada? and all of them? +why, Claude, how well you look! Papa, let me help you to take +off your greatcoat - you are cold - will you have a fire?’<br> +<br> +Never had Lily heard Eleanor say so much in a breath, or seen her eye +so bright, or her smile so ready, yet, when she entered the drawing-room, +she saw that Mrs. Hawkesworth was still the Eleanor of old. In +contrast with the splendid furniture of the apartments, a pile of shirts +was on the table, Eleanor’s well-known work-basket on the floor, +and the ceaseless knitting close at hand.<br> +<br> +Much news was exchanged in the few minutes that elapsed before Eleanor +carried off her sister to her room, indulging her by the way with a +peep at little Harry, and one kiss to his round red cheek as he lay +asleep in his little bed. It was not Eleanor’s fault that +she did not entirely dress Lily, and unpack her wardrobe; but Lilias +liked to show that she could manage for herself; and Eleanor’s +praise of her neat arrangements gave her as much pleasure as in days +of yore.<br> +<br> +The evening passed very happily. Eleanor’s heart was open, +she was full of enjoyment at meeting those she loved, and the two sisters +sat long together in the twilight, talking over numerous subjects, all +ending in Beechcroft or the baby.<br> +<br> +Yet when Lily awoke the next morning her awe of Eleanor began to return, +and she felt like a child just returned to school. She was, however, +mistaken; Eleanor assumed no authority, she treated Lily as her equal, +and thus made her feel more like a woman than she had ever done before. +Lily thought either that Eleanor was much altered, or that in her folly +she must have fancied her far more cold and grave than she really was. +She had, however, no time for studying her character; shopping and sight-seeing +filled up most of her time, and the remainder was spent in resting, +and in playing with little Henry.<br> +<br> +One evening, when Mr. Mohun and Claude were dining out, Lilias was left +alone with Mr. and Mrs. Hawkesworth. Lily was very tired, but +she worked steadily at marking Eleanor’s pocket-handkerchiefs, +until her sister, seeing how weary she was, made her lie down on the +sofa.<br> +<br> +‘Here is a gentleman who is tired too,’ said Eleanor, dancing +the baby; ‘we will carry you off, sir, and leave Aunt Lily to +go to sleep.’<br> +<br> +‘Aunt Lily is not so tired as that,’ said Lily; ‘pray +keep him.’<br> +<br> +‘It is quite bedtime,’ said Eleanor, in her decided tone, +and she carried him off.<br> +<br> +Lilias took up the knitting which she had laid down, and began to study +the stitches. ‘I should like this feathery pattern,’ +said she, ‘(if it did not remind me so much of the fever); but, +by the bye, Frank, have you completed Master Henry’s outfit? +I looked forward to helping to choose his pretty little things, but +I see no preparation but of stockings.’<br> +<br> +‘Why, Lily, did not you know that he was to stay in England?’<br> +<br> +‘To stay in England? No, I never thought of that - how sorry +you must be.’<br> +<br> +At this moment Eleanor returned, and Mr. Hawkesworth told her he had +been surprised to find Lily did not know their intentions with regard +to the baby.<br> +<br> +‘If we had any certain intentions we should have told her,’ +said Eleanor; ‘I did not wish to speak to her about it till we +had made up our minds.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, I know no use in mysteries,’ said Mr. Hawkesworth, +‘especially when Lily may help us to decide.’<br> +<br> +‘On his going or staying?’ exclaimed Lily, eagerly looking +to Mr. Hawkesworth, who was evidently more disposed to speak than his +wife.<br> +<br> +‘Not on his going or staying - I am sorry to say that point was +settled long ago - but where we shall leave him.’<br> +<br> +Lily’s heart beat high, but she did not speak.<br> +<br> +‘The truth is,’ proceeded Mr. Hawkesworth, ‘that this +young gentleman has, as perhaps you know, a grandpapa, a grandmamma, +and also six or seven aunts. With his grandmamma he cannot be +left, for sundry reasons, unnecessary to mention. Now, one of +his aunts is a staid matronly lady, and his godmother besides, and in +all respects the person to take charge of him, - only she lives in a +small house in a town, and has plenty of babies of her own, without +being troubled with other people’s. Master Henry’s +other five aunts live in one great house, in a delightful country, with +nothing to do but make much of him all day long, yet it is averred that +these said aunts are a parcel of giddy young colts, amongst whom, if +Henry escapes being demolished as a baby he will infallibly be spoilt +as he grows up. Now, how are we to decide?’<br> +<br> +‘You have heard the true state of the case, Lily,’ said +Mrs. Hawkesworth. ‘I did not wish to harass papa by speaking +to him till something was settled; you are certainly old enough to have +an opinion.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, Lily,’ said Frank; ‘do you think that the hospitable +New Court will open to receive our poor deserted child, and that these +said aunts are not wild colts but discreet damsels?’<br> +<br> +Playful as Mr. Hawkesworth’s manner was, Lily saw the earnestness +that was veiled under it: she felt the solemnity of Eleanor’s +appeal, and knew that this was no time to let herself be swayed by her +wishes. There was a silence. At last, after a great struggle, +Lily’s better judgment gained the mastery, and raising her head, +she said, ‘Oh! Frank, do not ask me - I wish - but, Eleanor, +when you see how much harm we have done, how utterly we have failed +- ’<br> +<br> +Lily’s newly-acquired habits of self-command enabled her to subdue +a violent fit of sobbing, which she felt impending, but her tears flowed +quietly down her cheeks.<br> +<br> +‘Remember,’ said Frank, ‘those who mistrust themselves +are the most trustworthy.’<br> +<br> +‘No, Frank, it is not only the feeling of the greatness of the +charge, it is the knowledge that we are not fit for it - that our own +faults have forfeited such happiness.’<br> +<br> +Again Lily was choked with tears.<br> +<br> +‘Well,’ said Frank, ‘we shall judge at Beechcroft. +At all events, one of those aunts is to be respected.’<br> +<br> +Eleanor added her ‘Very right.’<br> +<br> +This kindness on the part of her brother-in-law, which Lily felt to +be undeserved, caused her tears to flow faster, and Eleanor, seeing +her quite overcome, led her out of the room, helped her to undress, +and put her to bed, with tenderness such as Lily had never experienced +from her, excepting in illness.<br> +<br> +In spite of bitter regrets, when she thought of the happiness it would +have been to keep her little nephew, and of importunate and disappointing +hopes that Mrs. Ridley would find it impossible to receive him, Lily +felt that she had done right, and had made a real sacrifice for duty’s +sake. No more was said on the subject, and Lily was very grateful +to Eleanor for making no inquiries, which she could not have answered +without blaming Emily.<br> +<br> +Sight-seeing prospered very well under Claude’s guidance, and +Lily’s wonder and delight was a constant source of amusement to +her friends. Her shopping was more of a care than a pleasure, +for, in spite of the handsome equipments which Mr. Mohun presented to +all his daughters, it was impossible to contract Emily’s requirements +within the limits of what ought to be her expenditure, and the different +views of her brother and sister were rather troublesome in this matter. +Claude hated the search for ladies’ finery, and if drawn into +it, insisted on always taking her to the grandest and most expensive +shops; while, on the other hand, though Eleanor liked to hunt up cheap +things and good bargains, she had such rigid ideas about plainness of +dress, that there was little chance that what she approved would satisfy +Emily.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXI: CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Suddenly, a mighty jerk<br> +A mighty mischief did.’<br> +<br> +In the meantime Emily and Jane went on very prosperously at home, looking +forward to the return of the rest of the party on Saturday, the 17th +of July. In this, however, they were doomed to disappointment, +for neither Mr. Mohun nor Mr. Hawkesworth could wind up their affairs +so as to return before the 24th. Maurice’s holidays commenced +on Monday the 19th, and Claude offered to go home on the same day, and +meet him, but in a general council it was determined to the contrary. +Claude was wanted to stay for a concert on Thursday, and both Mr. Mohun +and Eleanor thought Maurice, without Reginald, would not be formidable +for a few days.<br> +<br> +At first he seemed to justify this opinion. He did not appear +to have any peculiar pursuit, unless such might be called a very earnest +attempt to make Phyllis desist from her favourite preface of ‘I’ll +tell you what,’ and to reform her habit of saying, ‘Please +for,’ instead of ‘If you please.’ He walked +with the sisters, carried messages for Mr. Devereux, performed some +neat little bits of carpentry, and was very useful and agreeable.<br> +<br> +On Wednesday afternoon Lord Rotherwood and Florence called, their heads +the more full of the 30th because the Marquis had not once thought of +it while Mr. Devereux was ill. Among the intended diversions fireworks +were mentioned, and from that moment rockets, wheels, and serpents, +commenced a wild career through Maurice’s brain. Through +the whole evening he searched for books on what he was pleased to call +the art of pyrotechnics, studied them all Wednesday, and the next morning +announced his intention of making some fireworks on a new plan.<br> +<br> +‘No, you must not,’ said Emily, ‘you will be sure +to do mischief.’<br> +<br> +‘I am going to ask Wat for some powder,’ was Maurice’s +reply, and he walked off.<br> +<br> +‘Stop him, Jane, stop him,’ cried Emily. ‘Nothing +can be so dangerous. Tell him how angry papa would be.’<br> +<br> +Though Jane highly esteemed her brother’s discretion, she did +not much like the idea of his touching powder, and she ran after him +to suggest that he had better wait till papa’s return.<br> +<br> +‘Then Redgie will be at home,’ said Maurice, ‘and +I could not be answerable for the consequence of such a careless fellow +touching powder.’<br> +<br> +This great proof of caution quite satisfied Jane, but not so Wat Greenwood, +who proved himself a faithful servant by refusing to let Master Maurice +have one grain of gunpowder without express leave from the squire. +Maurice then had recourse to Jane, and his power over her was such as +to triumph over strong sense and weak notions of obedience, so that +she was prevailed upon to supply him with the means of making the dangerous +and forbidden purchase.<br> +<br> +Emily was both annoyed and alarmed when she found that the gunpowder +was actually in the house, and she even thought of sending a note to +the parsonage to beg Mr. Devereux to speak to Maurice; but Jane had +gone over to the enemy, and Emily never could do anything unsupported. +Besides, she neither liked to affront Maurice nor to confess herself +unable to keep him in order; and she, therefore, tried to put the whole +matter out of her head, in the thoughts of an expedition to Raynham, +which she was about to make in the manner she best liked, with Jane +in the close carriage, and the horses reluctantly spared from their +farm work.<br> +<br> +As they were turning the corner of the lane they overtook Phyllis and +Adeline on their way to the school with some work, and Emily stopped +the carriage, to desire them to send off a letter which she had left +on the chimney-piece in the schoolroom. Then proceeding to Raynham, +they made their visits, paid Emily’s debts, performed their commissions, +and met the carriage again at the bookseller’s shop, at the end +of about two hours.<br> +<br> +‘Look here, Emily!’ exclaimed Jane. ‘Read this! +can it be Mrs. Aylmer?’<br> +<br> +‘The truly charitable,’ said Emily, contemptuously. +‘Mrs. Aylmer is above - ’<br> +<br> +‘But read. It says “unbeneficed clergyman and deceased +nobleman,” and who can that be but Uncle Rotherwood and Mr. Aylmer.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, let us see,’ said Emily, ‘those things are +always amusing.’<br> +<br> +It was an appeal to the ‘truly charitable,’ from the friends +of the widow of an unbeneficed clergyman of the diocese, one of whose +sons had, it was said, by the kindness of a deceased nobleman, received +the promise of an appointment in India, of which he was unable to avail +himself for want of the funds needful for his outfit. This appeal +was, it added, made without the knowledge of the afflicted lady, but +further particulars might be learnt by application to E. F., No. 5 West +Street, Raynham.<br> +<br> +‘E. F. is plainly that bustling, little, old Miss Fitchett, who +wrote to papa for some subscription,’ said Emily. ‘You +know she is a regular beggar, always doing these kind of things, but +I can never believe that Mrs. Aylmer would consent to appear in this +manner.’<br> +<br> +‘Ah! but it says without her knowledge,’ said Jane. +‘Don’t you remember Rotherwood’s lamenting that they +were forgotten?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, it is shocking,’ said Emily; ‘the clergyman +that married papa and mamma!’<br> +<br> +‘Ask Mr. Adam what he knows,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +Emily accordingly applied to the bookseller, and learnt that Mrs. Aylmer +was indeed the person intended. ‘Something must be done,’ +said she, returning to Jane. ‘Our name will be a help.’<br> +<br> +‘Speak to Aunt Rotherwood,’ said Jane. ‘Or suppose +we apply to Miss Fitchett, we should have time to drive that way.’<br> +<br> +‘I am sure I shall not go to Miss Fitchett,’ said Emily, +‘she only longs for an excuse to visit us. What can you +be thinking of? Lend me your pencil, Jenny, if you please.’<br> +<br> +And Emily wrote down, ‘Miss Mohun, £5,’ and handed +to the bookseller all that she possessed towards paying her just debts +to Lilias. While she was writing, Jane had turned towards the +window, and suddenly exclaiming, ‘There is Ben! Oh! that +gunpowder!’ darted out of the shop. She had seen the groom +on horseback, and the next moment she was asking breathlessly, ‘Is +it Maurice?’<br> +<br> +‘No, Miss Jane; but Miss Ada is badly burnt, and Master Maurice +sent me to fetch Mr. Saunders.’<br> +<br> +‘How did it happen?’<br> +<br> +‘I can’t say, Miss; the schoolroom has been on fire, and +Master Maurice said the young ladies had got at the gunpowder.’<br> +<br> +Emily had just arrived at the door, looking dreadfully pale, and followed +by numerous kind offers of salts and glasses of water; but Jane, perceiving +that at least she had strength to get into the carriage, refused them +all, helped her in, and with instant decision, desired to be driven +to the surgeon’s. Emily obeyed like a child, and threw herself +back in the carriage without a word; Jane trembled like an aspen leaf; +but her higher spirit took the lead, and very sensibly she managed, +stopping at Mr. Saunders’s door to offer to take him to Beechcroft, +and getting a glass of sal-volatile for Emily while they were waiting +for him. His presence was a great relief, for Emily’s natural +courtesy made her exert herself, and thus warded off much that would +have been very distressing.<br> +<br> +In the meantime we will return to Beechcroft, where Emily’s request +respecting her letter had occasioned some discussion between the little +girls, as they returned from a walk with Marianne. Phyllis thought +that Emily meant them to wafer the letter, since they were under strict +orders never to touch fire or candle; but Ada argued that they were +to seal it, and that permission to light a candle was implied in the +order. At last, Phyllis hoped the matter might be settled by asking +Maurice to seal the letter, and meeting him at the front door, she began, +in fortunately, with ‘Please, Maurice - ’<br> +<br> +‘I never listen to anything beginning with please,’ said +Maurice, who was in a great hurry, ‘only don’t touch my +powder.’<br> +<br> +Away he went, deaf to all his sister’s shouts of ‘Maurice, +Maurice,’ and they went in, Ada not sorry to be unheard, as she +was bent on the grand exploit of lighting a lucifer match, but Phyllis +still pleading for the wafer. They found the schoolroom strewed +with Maurice’s preparations for fireworks, and Emily’s letter +on the chimney-piece.<br> +<br> +‘Let us take the letter downstairs, and put on a wafer,’ +said Phyllis. ‘Won’t you come, Ada?’<br> +<br> +‘No, the stamps are here, and so are the matches, I can do it +easily.’<br> +<br> +‘But Ada, Ada, it would be naughty. Only wait, and I will +show you such a pretty wafer that I know of in the drawing-room. +I will run and fetch it.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis went, and Ada stood a few moments in doubt, looking at the letter. +The recollection of duty was not strong enough to balance the temptation, +and she took up a match and drew it along the sandpaper. It did +not light - a second pull, and the flame appeared more suddenly than +she had expected, while at the same moment the lock of the door turned, +and fancying it was Maurice, she started, and dropped the match. +Phyllis opened the door, heard a loud explosion and a scream, saw a +bright flash and a cloud of smoke. She started back, but the next +moment again opened the door, and ran forward. Hannah rushed in +at the same time, and caught up Ada, who had fallen to the ground. +A light in the midst of the smoke made Phyllis turn, and she beheld +the papers on the table on fire. Maurice’s powder-horn was +in the midst, but the flames had not yet reached it, and, mindful of +Claude’s story, she sprung forward, caught it up, and dashed it +through the window; she felt the glow of the fire upon her cheek, and +stood still as if stunned, till Hannah carried Ada out of the room, +and screamed to her to come away, and call Joseph. The table was +now one sheet of flame, and Phyllis flew to the pantry, where she gave +the summons in almost inaudible tones. The servants hurried to +the spot, and she was left alone and bewildered; she ran hither and +thither in confusion, till she met Hannah, eagerly asking for Master +Maurice, and saying that the surgeon must be instantly sent for, as +Ada’s face and neck were badly burnt. Phyllis ran down, +calling Maurice, and at length met him at the front door, looking much +frightened, and asking for Ada.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Maurice, her face and neck are burnt, and badly. +She does scream?’<br> +<br> +‘Did I not tell you not to meddle with the powder?’ said +Maurice.<br> +<br> +‘Indeed, I could not help it,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘Stuff and nonsense! It is very well that you have not killed +Ada, and I think that would have made you sorry.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis with difficulty mentioned Hannah’s desire that a surgeon +should be sent for: Maurice went to look for Ben, and she followed him. +Then he began asking how she had done the mischief.<br> +<br> +‘I do not know,’ said she, ‘I do not much think I +did it.’<br> +<br> +‘Mind, you can’t humbug me. Did you not say that you +touched the powder?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, but - ’<br> +<br> +‘No buts,’ said Maurice, making the most of his brief authority. +‘I hate false excuses. What were you doing when it exploded?’<br> +<br> +‘Coming into the room.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! that accounts for it,’ said Maurice, ‘the slightest +vibration causes an explosion of that sort of rocket, and of course +it was your bouncing into the room! You have had a lesson against +rushing about the house. Come, though, cheer up, Phyl, it is a +bad business, but it might have been worse; you will know better next +time. Don’t cry, Phyl, I will explain to you all about the +patent rocket.’<br> +<br> +‘But do you really think that I blew up Ada?’<br> +<br> +‘Blew up Ada! caused the powder to ignite. The inflammable +matter - ’<br> +<br> +As he spoke he followed Phyllis to the nursery, and there was so much +shocked, that he could no longer lord it over her, but shrinking back, +shut himself up in his room, and bolted the door.<br> +<br> +Nearly an hour passed away before the arrival of Emily, Jane, and Mr. +Saunders. Phyllis ran down, and meeting them at the door, exclaimed, +‘Oh! Emily, poor Ada! I am so sorry.’<br> +<br> +The sisters hurried past her to the nursery, where Ada was lying on +the bed, half undressed, and her face, neck, and arm such a spectacle +that Emily turned away, ready to faint. Mr. Saunders was summoned, +and Phyllis thrust out of the room. She sat down on the step of +the stairs, resting her forehead on her knees, and trembling, listened +to the sounds of voices, and the screams which now and then reached +her ears. After a time she was startled by hearing herself called +from the stairs <i>by below</i> a voice which she had not heard for +many weeks, and springing up, saw Mr. Devereux leaning on the banisters. +The great change in his appearance frightened her almost as much as +the accident itself, and she stood looking at him without speaking. +‘Phyllis,’ said he, in a voice hoarse with agitation, ‘what +is it? tell me at once.’<br> +<br> +She could not speak, and her wild and frightened air might well give +him great alarm. She pointed to the nursery, and put her finger +to her lips, and he, beckoning to her to follow him, went downstairs, +and turning into the drawing-room, said, as he sank down upon the sofa, +‘Now, Phyllis, what has happened?’<br> +<br> +‘The gunpowder - I made it go off, and it has burnt poor Ada’s +face! Mr. Saunders is there, and she screams - ’<br> +<br> +Phyllis finding herself ready to roar, left off speaking, and laying +her head on the table, burst into an agony of crying, while Mr. Devereux +was too much exhausted to address her; at last she exclaimed: ‘I +hear the nursery door; he is going!’<br> +<br> +She flew to the door, and listened, and then called out, ‘Emily, +Jane, here is Cousin Robert!’<br> +<br> +Jane came down, leaving Emily to finish hearing Mr. Saunders’s +directions. She was even more shocked at her cousin’s looks +than Phyllis had been, and though she tried to speak cheerfully, her +manner scarcely agreed with her words. ‘It is all well, +Robert, I am sorry you have been so frightened. It is but a slight +affair, though it looks so shocking. There is no danger. +But, oh, Robert! you ought not to be here. What shall we do for +you? you are quite knocked up.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! no,’ said Mr. Devereux, ‘I am only a little out +of breath. A terrible report came to me, and I set off to learn +the truth. I should like to hear what Mr. Saunders says of her.’<br> +<br> +‘I will call him in here before he goes,’ said Jane; ‘how +tired you are; you have not been out before.’<br> +<br> +‘Only to the gate to speak to Rotherwood yesterday, and prevent +him from coming in,’ said Mr. Devereux, ‘but I have great +designs for Sunday. They come home to-morrow, do not they?’<br> +<br> +Jane was much relieved by hearing her cousin talk in this manner, and +answered, ‘Yes, and a dismal coming home it will be; it is too +late to let them know.’<br> +<br> +Mr. Saunders now entered, and gave a very favourable account of the +patient, saying that even the scars would probably disappear in a few +weeks. His gig had come from Raynham, and he offered to set Mr. +Devereux down at the parsonage, a proposal which the latter was very +glad to accept. Emily and Jane had leisure, when they were gone, +to inquire into the manner of the accident. Phyllis answered that +Maurice said that her banging the door had made the powder go off. +Jane then asked where Maurice was, and Phyllis reporting that he was +in his own room, she repaired thither, and knocked twice without receiving +an answer. On her call, however, he opened the door; she saw that +he had been in tears, and hastened to tell him Mr. Saunders’s +opinion. He fastened the door again as soon as she had entered. +‘If I could have thought it!’ sighed he. ‘Fool +that I was, not to lock the door!’<br> +<br> +‘Then you were not there? Phyllis says that she did it by +banging the door. Is not that nonsense?’<br> +<br> +‘Not at all. Did I not read to you in the <i>Year Book of +Facts </i>about the patent signal rockets, which explode with the least +vibration, even when a carriage goes by? Now, mine was on the +same principle. I was making an experiment on the ingredients; +I did not expect to succeed the first time, and so I took no precautions. +Well! Pyrotechnics are a dangerous science! Next time I study +them it shall be at the workshop at the Old Court.’<br> +<br> +Maurice was sincerely sorry for the consequence of his disobedience, +and would have been much to be pitied had it not been for his secret +satisfaction in the success of his art. He called his sister into +the schoolroom to explain how it happened. The room was a dismal +sight, blackened with smoke, and flooded with water, the table and part +of the floor charred, a mass of burnt paper in the midst, and a stifling +smell of fire. A pane of glass was shattered, and Maurice ran +down to the lawn to see if he could find anything there to account for +it. The next moment he returned, the powder-horn in his hand. +‘See, Jenny, how fortunate that this was driven through the window +with the force of the explosion. The whole place might have been +blown to atoms with such a quantity as this.’<br> +<br> +‘Then what was it that blew up?’ asked Jane.<br> +<br> +‘What I had put out for my rocket, about two ounces. If +this half-pound had gone there is no saying what might have happened.’<br> +<br> +‘Now, Maurice,’ said Jane, ‘I must go back to Ada, +and will you run down to the parsonage with a parcel, directed to Robert, +that you will find in the hall?’<br> +<br> +This was a device to occupy Maurice, who, as Jane saw, was so restless +and unhappy that she did not like to leave him, much as she was wanted +elsewhere. He went, but afraid to see his cousin, only left the +parcel at the door. As he was going back he heard a shout, and +looking round saw Lord Rotherwood mounted on Cedric, his most spirited +horse, galloping up the lane. ‘Maurice!’ cried he, +‘what is all this? they say the New Court is blown up, and you +and half the girls killed, but I hope one part is as true as the other.’<br> +<br> +‘Nobody is hurt but Ada,’ said Maurice, ‘but her face +is a good deal burnt.’<br> +<br> +‘Eh? then she won’t be fit for the 30th, poor child! tell +me how it was, make haste. I heard it from Mr. Burnet as I came +down to dinner. We have a dozen people at dinner. I told +him not to mention it to my mother, and rode off to hear the truth. +Make haste, half the people were come when I set off.’<br> +<br> +The horse’s caperings so discomposed Maurice that he could scarcely +collect his wits enough to answer: ‘Some signal rocket on a new +principle - detonating powder, composed of oxymuriate - Oh! Rotherwood, +take care!’<br> +<br> +‘Speak sense, and go on.’<br> +<br> +‘Then Phyllis came in, banged the door, and the vibration caused +the explosion,’ said Maurice, scared into finishing promptly.<br> +<br> +‘Eh! banging the door? You had better not tell that story +at school.’<br> +<br> +‘But, Rotherwood, the deton - Oh! that horse - you will be off!’<br> +<br> +‘Not half so dangerous as patent rockets. Is Emily satisfied +with such stuff?’<br> +<br> +‘Don’t you know that fulminating silver - ’<br> +<br> +‘What does Robert Devereux say?’<br> +<br> +‘Really, Rotherwood, I could show you - ’<br> +<br> +‘Show me? No; if rockets are so perilous I shall have nothing +to do with them. Stand still, Cedric! Just tell me about +Ada. Is there much harm done?’<br> +<br> +‘Her face is scorched a good deal, but they say it will soon be +right.’<br> +<br> +‘I am glad - we will send to inquire to-morrow, but I cannot come +- ha, ha! a new infernal machine. Good-bye, Friar Bacon.’<br> +<br> +Away he went, and Maurice stood looking after him with complacent disdain. +‘There they go, Cedric and Rotherwood, equally well provided with +brains! What is the use of talking science to either?’<br> +<br> +It was late when he reached the house, and his two sisters shortly came +down to tea, with news that Adeline was asleep and Phyllis was going +to bed. The accident was again talked over.<br> +<br> +‘Well,’ said Emily, ‘I do not understand it, but I +suppose papa will.’<br> +<br> +‘The telling papa is a bad part of the affair, with William and +Eleanor there too,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘I do not mean to speak to Phyllis about it again,’ said +Emily, ‘it makes her cry so terribly.’<br> +<br> +‘It will come out fast enough,’ sighed Maurice. ‘Good-night.’<br> +<br> +More than once in the course of the night did poor Phyllis wake and +cry, and the next day was the most wretched she had ever spent; she +was not allowed to stay in the nursery, and the schoolroom was uninhabitable, +so she wandered listlessly about the garden, sometimes creeping down +to the churchyard, where she looked up at the old tower, or pondered +over the graves, and sometimes forgetting her troubles in converse with +the dogs, in counting the rings in the inside of a foxglove flower, +or in rescuing tadpoles stranded on the broad leaf of a water-lily.<br> +<br> +Her sisters and brothers were not less forlorn. Emily sighed and +lamented; Adeline was feverish and petulant; and Jane toiled in vain +to please and soothe both, and to comfort Maurice; but with all her +good-temper and good-nature she had not the spirit which alone could +enable her to be a comfort to any one. Ada whined, fretted, and +was disobedient, and from Maurice she met with nothing but rebuffs; +he was silent and sullen, and spent most of the day in the workshop, +slowly planing scraps of deal board, and watching with a careless eye +the curled shavings float to the ground.<br> +<br> +In the course of the afternoon Alethea and Marianne came to inquire +after the patient. Jane came down to them and talked very fast, +but when they asked for a further explanation of the cause of the accident, +Jane declared that Maurice said it was impossible that any one who did +not understand chemistry should know how it happened, and Alethea went +away strongly reminded that it was no affair of hers.<br> +<br> +Notes passed between the New Court and the vicarage, but Mr. Devereux +was feeling the effect of his yesterday’s exertion too much to +repeat it, and no persuasion of the sisters could induce Maurice to +visit him.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXII: THE BARONIAL COURT<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Still in his eyes his soul revealing,<br> +He dreams not, knows not of concealing,<br> +Does all he does with single mind,<br> +And thinks of others that are kind.’<br> +<br> +The travellers were expected to arrive at about seven o’clock +in the evening, and in accordance with a well-known taste of Eleanor’s, +Emily had ordered no dinner, but a substantial meal under the name of +tea. When the sound of carriage wheels was heard, Jane was with +Adeline, Maurice was in his retreat at the Old Court, and it was with +no cheerful alacrity that Emily went alone into the hall. Phyllis +was already at the front door, and the instant Mr. Mohun set foot on +the threshold, her hand grasped his coat, and her shrill voice cried +in his ear, ‘Papa, I am very sorry I blew up the gunpowder and +burnt Ada.’<br> +<br> +‘What, my dear? where is Ada?’<br> +<br> +‘In bed. I blew up the gunpowder and burnt her face,’ +repeated Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘We have had an accident,’ said Emily, ‘but I hope +it is nothing very serious, only poor Ada is a sad figure.’<br> +<br> +In another moment Mr. Mohun and Eleanor were on the way to the nursery; +Lilias was following, but she recollected that a general rush into a +sickroom was not desirable, and therefore paused and came back to the +hall. The worst was over with Phyllis when the confession had +been made. She was in raptures at the sight of the baby, and was +presently showing the nurse the way upstairs, but her brother William +called her back: ‘Phyllis, you have not spoken to any one.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis turned, and came down slowly in her most ungainly manner, believing +herself in too great disgrace to be noticed by anybody, and she was +quite surprised and comforted to be greeted by her brothers and Lily +just as usual.<br> +<br> +‘And how did you meet with this misfortune?’ asked Mr. Hawkesworth.<br> +<br> +‘I banged the door, and made it go off,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘What can you mean?’ said William, in a tone of surprise, +which Phyllis took for anger, and she hid her face to stifle her sobs.<br> +<br> +‘No, no, do not frighten her,’ said Claude’s kind +voice.<br> +<br> +‘Run and make friends with your nephew, Phyllis,’ said Mr. +Hawkesworth; ‘do not greet us with crying.’<br> +<br> +‘First tell me what is become of Maurice,’ said Claude, +‘is he blown up too?’<br> +<br> +‘No, he is at the Old Court,’ said Phyllis. ‘Shall +I tell him that you are come?’<br> +<br> +‘I will look for him,’ said Claude, and out he went.<br> +<br> +The others dispersed in different directions, and did not assemble again +for nearly half an hour, when they all met in the drawing-room to drink +tea; Claude and Maurice were the last to appear, and, on entering, the +first thing the former said was, ‘Where is Phyllis?’<br> +<br> +‘In the nursery,’ said Jane; ‘she has had her supper, +and chooses to stay with Ada.’<br> +<br> +‘Has any one found out the history of the accident?’ said +William.<br> +<br> +‘I have vainly been trying to make sense of Maurice’s account,’ +said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Sense!’ said William, ‘there is none.’<br> +<br> +‘I am perfectly bewildered,’ said Lily; ‘every one +has a different story, only consenting in making Phyllis the victim.’<br> +<br> +‘And,’ added Claude, ‘I strongly suspect she is not +in fault.’<br> +<br> +‘Why should you doubt what she says herself?’ said Eleanor.<br> +<br> +‘What does she say herself?’ said William, ‘nothing +but that she shut the door, and what does that amount to? - Nothing.’<br> +<br> +‘She says she touched the powder,’ interposed Jane.<br> +<br> +‘That is another matter,’ said William; ‘no one told +me of her touching the powder. But why do you not ask her? +She is publicly condemned without a hearing.’<br> +<br> +‘Who accuses her?’ said Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘I can hardly tell,’ said Emily; ‘she met us, saying +she was very sorry. Yes, she accuses herself. Every one +has believed it to be her.’<br> +<br> +‘And why?’<br> +<br> +There was a pause, but at last Emily said, ‘How would you account +for it otherwise?’<br> +<br> +‘I have not yet heard the circumstances. Maurice, I wish +to hear your account. I will not now ask how you procured the +powder. Whoever was the immediate cause of the accident, you are +chiefly to blame. Where was the powder?’<br> +<br> +Maurice gave his theory and his facts, ending with the powder-horn being +driven out of the window upon the green.<br> +<br> +‘I hear,’ said Mr. Mohun. ‘But, Maurice, did +you not say that Phyllis touched the powder? How do you reconcile +that with this incomprehensible statement?’<br> +<br> +‘She might have done that before,’ said Maurice.<br> +<br> +‘Now call Phyllis,’ said his father.<br> +<br> +‘Is it not very formidable for her to be examined before such +an assembly?’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘The accusation has been public, and the investigation shall be +the same,’ said Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘Then you do not think she did it, papa?’ cried Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Not by shutting the door,’ said William.<br> +<br> +Phyllis entered, and Mr. Mohun, holding out both hands to her, drew +her towards him, and placing her with her back to the others, still +retained her hands, while he said, ‘Phyllis, do not be frightened, +but tell me where you were when the powder exploded?’<br> +<br> +‘Coming into the room,’ said Phyllis, in a trembling voice.<br> +<br> +‘Where had you been?’<br> +<br> +‘Fetching a wafer out of the drawing-room.’<br> +<br> +‘What was the wafer for?’<br> +<br> +‘To put on Emily’s letter, which she told us to send.’<br> +<br> +‘And where was Ada?’<br> +<br> +‘In the schoolroom, reading the direction of the letter.’<br> +<br> +‘Tell me exactly what happened when you came back.’<br> +<br> +‘I opened the door, and there was a flash, and a bang, and a smoke, +and Ada tumbled down.’<br> +<br> +‘I have one more question to ask. When did you touch the +powder?’<br> +<br> +‘Then,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘When it had exploded? Take care what you say.’<br> +<br> +‘Was it naughty? I am very sorry,’ said Phyllis, beginning +to cry.<br> +<br> +‘What powder did you touch? I do not understand you, tell +me quietly.’<br> +<br> +‘I touched the powder-horn. What went off was only a little +in a paper on the table, and there was a great deal more. When +the rocket blew up there was a great noise, and Ada and I both screamed, +and Hannah ran in and took up Ada in her arms. Then I saw a great +fire, and looked, and saw Emily’s music-book, and all the papers +blazing. So I thought if it got to the powder it would blow up +again, and I laid hold of the horn and threw it out of the window. +That is all I know, papa, only I hope you are not very angry with me.’<br> +<br> +She looked into his face, not knowing how to interpret the unusual expression +she saw there.<br> +<br> +‘Angry with you!’ said he. ‘No, my dear child, +you have acted with great presence of mind. You have saved your +sister and Hannah from great danger, and I am very sorry that you have +been unjustly treated.’<br> +<br> +He then gave his little daughter a kiss, and putting his hand on her +head, added, ‘Whoever caused the explosion, Phyllis is quite free +from blame, and I wish every one to understand this, because she has +been unjustly accused, without examination, and because she has borne +it patiently, and without attempting to justify herself.’<br> +<br> +‘Very right,’ observed Eleanor.<br> +<br> +‘Shake hands, Phyllis,’ said William.<br> +<br> +The others said more with their eyes than with their lips. Phyllis +stood like one in a dream, and fixing her bewildered looks upon Claude, +said, ‘Did not I do it?’<br> +<br> +‘No, Phyllis, you had nothing to do with it,’ was the general +exclamation.<br> +<br> +‘Maurice said it was the door,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘Maurice talked nonsense,’ said Claude; ‘you were +only foolish in believing him.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis went up to Claude, and laid her head on his arm; Mr. Hawkesworth +held out his hand to her, but she did not look up, and Claude withdrawing +his arm, and raising her head, found that she was crying. Eleanor +and Lilias both rose, and came towards her but Claude made them a sign, +and led her away.<br> +<br> +‘What a fine story this will be for Reginald,’ said William.<br> +<br> +‘And for Rotherwood,’ said Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘I do not see how it happened,’ said Eleanor.<br> +<br> +‘Of course Ada did it herself,’ said William.<br> +<br> +‘Of course,’ said Maurice. ‘It was all from +Emily’s setting them to seal her letter, that is plain now.’<br> +<br> +‘Would not Ada have said so?’ asked Eleanor.<br> +<br> +Lily sighed at the thought of what Eleanor had yet to learn.<br> +<br> +‘Did you tell them to seal your letter, Emily?’ said Mr. +Mohun.<br> +<br> +‘I am sorry to say that I did tell them to send it,’ said +Emily, ‘but I said nothing about sealing, as Jane remembers, and +I forgot that Maurice’s gunpowder was in the room.’<br> +<br> +Eleanor shook her head sorrowfully, and looked down at her knitting, +and Lily knew that her mind was made up respecting little Henry’s +dwelling-place.<br> +<br> +It was some comfort to have raised no false expectations.<br> +<br> +‘Ada must not be frightened and agitated to-night,’ said +Mr. Mohun, ‘but I hope you will talk to her to-morrow, Eleanor. +Well, Claude, have you made Phyllis understand that she is acquitted?’<br> +<br> +‘Scarcely,’ said Claude; ‘she is so overcome and worn +out, that I thought she had better go to bed, and wake in her proper +senses to-morrow.’<br> +<br> +‘A very unconscious heroine,’ said William. ‘She +is a wonder - I never thought her anything but an honest sort of romp.’<br> +<br> +‘I have long thought her a wonderful specimen of obedience,’ +said Mr. Mohun.<br> +<br> +William and Claude now walked to the parsonage, and the council broke +up; but it must not be supposed that this was the last that Emily and +Maurice heard on the subject.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXIII: JOYS AND SORROWS<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Complaint was heard on every part<br> +Of something disarranged.’<br> +<br> +The next day, Sunday, was one of the most marked in Lily’s life. +It was the first time she saw Mr. Devereux after his illness, and though +Claude had told her he was going to church, it gave her a sudden thrill +of joy to see him there once more, and perhaps she never felt more thankful +than when his name was read before the Thanksgiving. After the +service there was an exchange of greetings, but Lily spoke no word, +she felt too happy and too awe-struck to say anything, and she walked +back to the New Court in silence.<br> +<br> +In the afternoon she had hopes that a blessing would be granted to her, +for which at one time she had scarcely dared to hope; and she felt convinced +that so it would be when she saw that Mr. Devereux wore his surplice, +although, as in the morning, his friend read the service. After +the Second Lesson there was a pause, and then Mr. Devereux left the +chair by the altar, walked along the aisle, and took his stand on the +step of the font. Lily’s heart beat high as she saw who +were gathering round him - Mrs. Eden, Andrew Grey, James Harrington, +and Mrs. Naylor, who held in her arms a healthy, rosy-checked boy of +a year old.<br> +<br> +She could not have described the feelings which made her eyes overflow +with tears, as she saw Mr. Devereux’s thin hand sprinkle the drops +over the brow of the child, and heard him say, ‘Robert, I baptize +thee’ - words which she had heard in dreams, and then awakened +to remember that the parish was at enmity with the pastor, the child +unbaptized, and herself, in part, the cause.<br> +<br> +The name of the little boy was an additional pledge of reconciliation, +and at the same time it made her feel again what had been the price +of his baptism. When she looked back upon the dreary feelings +which she had so lately experienced, it seemed to her as if she might +believe that this christening was, as it were, a pledge of pardon, and +an earnest of better things.<br> +<br> +Naylor, who had recovered much more slowly than Mr. Devereux, was at +church for the first time, and after the service Mr. Mohun sought him +out in the churchyard, and heartily shook hands with him. Lily +would gladly have followed his example, but she only stood by Eleanor +and Mrs. Weston, who were speaking to Mrs. Eden and Mrs. Naylor, admiring +the little boy, and praising him for his good behaviour in church.<br> +<br> +Love of babies was a strong bond between Mrs. Weston and Mrs. Hawkesworth, +who seemed to become well acquainted from the first moment that little +Henry was mentioned; and Lily was well pleased to see that in Jane’s +phrase Eleanor ‘took to her friends so well.’<br> +<br> +And yet this day brought with it some annoyances, which once would have +fretted her so much as to interfere even with such joy as she now felt. +The song, with which she had taken so much pains, ought to have been +sent home a week before, but owing to the delay caused by Emily’s +carelessness, it had been burnt in the fire in the schoolroom, and Lily +could not feel herself forgiven till she had talked the disaster over +in private with her friend, and this was out of her power throughout +the day, for something always prevented her from getting Alethea alone. +In the morning Jane stuck close to her, and in the afternoon William +walked to the school gate with them. But Alethea’s manner +was kinder towards her than ever, and she was quite satisfied about +her.<br> +<br> +It gave her more pain to perceive that Emily in every possible manner +avoided being alone with her. It was by her desire that Phyllis +came to sleep in their room; she would keep Jane talking there, give +Esther some employment which kept her in their presence, linger in the +drawing-room while Lilias was dressing, and at bedtime be too sleepy +to say anything but good-night.<br> +<br> +That Sunday was a sorrowful one to Eleanor; for in the course of the +conversation with Ada, which Mr. Mohun had desired her to hold, she +became conscious of the little girl’s double-dealing ways. +It was only by a very close cross-examination that she was able to extract +from her a true account of the disaster, and though Ada never went so +far as actually to tell a falsehood, it was evident that she was willing +to conceal as much as possible, and to throw the blame on other people. +And when the real facts were confessed she did not seem able to comprehend +why she was regarded with displeasure; her instinct of truth and obedience +was lost for the time, and Eleanor saw it with the utmost pain. +Adeline had been her especial darling, and cold as her manner had often +been towards the others, it ever was warm towards the motherless little +one, whom she had tended and cherished with most anxious care from her +earliest infancy. She had left her gentle, candid, and affectionate; +a loving, engaging, little creature, and how did she find her now? +Her fair bright face disfigured, her caresses affected, her mind turned +to deceit and prevarication! Well might Eleanor feel it more than +ever painful to leave her own little Henry to the care of others; and +well it was for her that she had learned to find comfort in the consciousness +that her duty was clear.<br> +<br> +The next morning Emily learned what was Henry’s destination.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Eleanor,’ said she, ‘why do you not leave him +here? We should be so rejoiced to have him.’<br> +<br> +‘Thank you, I am afraid it is out of the question,’ answered +Eleanor, quietly.<br> +<br> +‘Why, dear Eleanor? You know how glad we should be. +I should have thought,’ proceeded Emily, a little hurt, ‘that +you would have wished him to live in your own home.’<br> +<br> +Eleanor did not speak, and Emily, who had the little boy in her arms, +went on talking to him: ‘Come, baby, let us persuade mamma to +let you stay with Aunt Emily. Ask papa, Henry, won’t you? +Seriously, Eleanor, has Frank considered how much better it would be +to have him in the country?’<br> +<br> +‘He has, Emily; he once wished much to leave him here.’<br> +<br> +‘I am sure grandpapa would like it,’ said Emily. ‘Do +you observe, Eleanor, how fond he is of baby, always calling him Harry +too, as if he liked the sound of the name?’<br> +<br> +‘It has all been talked over, Emily, and it cannot be.’<br> +<br> +‘With papa?’ asked Emily in surprise.<br> +<br> +‘No, with Lily.’<br> +<br> +‘With Lily!’ exclaimed Emily. ‘Did not Aunt +Lily wish to keep you, Harry? I thought she was very fond of you.’<br> +<br> +‘You had better inquire no further,’ said Eleanor, ‘except +of your own conscience.’<br> +<br> +‘Did Lily think us unfit to take care of him?’ asked Emily, +in surprise.<br> +<br> +As she spoke Lily herself came in, the key of the storeroom in her hand, +and looks of consternation on her face. She came to announce a +terrible deficiency in the preserved quinces, which she herself had +carefully put aside on a shelf in the storeroom, and which Emily said +she had not touched in her absence.<br> +<br> +‘Let me see,’ said Eleanor, rising, and setting off to the +storeroom; Emily and Lily followed, with a sad suspicion of the truth. +On the way they looked into the nursery, to give little Henry to his +nurse, and to ask Jane, who was sitting with Ada, what she remembered +about it. Jane knew nothing, and they went on to the storeroom, +where Eleanor, quite in her element, began rummaging, arranging, and +sighing over the confusion, while Lily lent a helping hand, and Emily +stood by, wishing that her sister would not trouble herself. Presently +Jane came running up with a saucer in her hand, containing a quarter +of a quince and some syrup, which she said she had found in the nursery +cupboard, in searching for a puzzle which Ada wanted.<br> +<br> +‘And,’ said Jane, ‘I should guess that Miss Ada herself +knew something about it, for when I could not find the puzzle in the +right-hand cupboard, she was so very unwilling that I should look into +that one; she said there was nothing there but the boys’ old playthings +and Esther’s clothes. And I do not know whether you saw +how she fidgeted when you were talking about the quinces, before you +went up.’<br> +<br> +‘It is much too plain,’ sighed Lily. ‘Oh! Rachel, +why did we not listen to you?’<br> +<br> +‘Do you suppose,’ said Eleanor, ‘that Ada has been +in the habit of taking the key and helping herself?’<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Emily, ‘but that Esther has helped her.’<br> +<br> +‘Ah!’ said Eleanor, ‘I never thought it wise to take +her, but how could she get the key? You do not mean that you trusted +it out of your own keeping.’<br> +<br> +‘It began while we were ill,’ faltered Emily, ‘and +afterwards it was difficult to bring matters into their former order.’<br> +<br> +‘But oh, Eleanor, what is to be done?’ sighed Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Speak to papa, of course,’ said Eleanor. ‘He +is gone to the castle, and in the meantime we had better take an exact +account of everything here.’<br> +<br> +‘And Esther? And Ada?’ inquired the sisters.<br> +<br> +‘I think it will be better to speak to him before making so grave +an accusation,’ said Eleanor.<br> +<br> +They now commenced that wearisome occupation - a complete setting-to-rights; +Eleanor counted, weighed, and measured, and extended her cares from +the stores to every other household matter. Emily made her escape, +and went to sit with Ada; but Lily and Jane toiled for several hours +with Eleanor, till Lily was so heated and wearied that she was obliged +to give up a walk to Broomhill, and spend another day without a talk +with Alethea. However, she was so patient, ready, and good-humoured, +that Eleanor was well pleased with her. She could hardly think +of the slight vexation, when her mind was full of sorrow and shame on +Esther’s account. It was she who, contrary to the advice +of her elders, had insisted on bringing her into the house; she had +allowed temptation to be set in her way, and had not taken sufficient +pains to strengthen her principles; and how could she do otherwise than +feel guilty of all Esther’s faults, and of those into which she +had led Adeline?<br> +<br> +On Mr. Mohun’s return Ada was interrogated. She pitied herself +- said she did not think papa would be angry - prevaricated - and tried +to coax away his inquiries, but all in vain; and at length, by slow +degrees, the confession was drawn from her that she had been used to +asking Esther for morsels of sweet things when she was sent to the storeroom; +that afterwards she had seen her packing up some tea and sugar to take +to her mother, and that Esther on that occasion, and several others, +purchased her silence by giving her a share of pilfered sweetmeats. +Telling her that he only spared her a very severe punishment for the +present, on account of her illness, Mr. Mohun left her, and on his way +downstairs met Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘Phyl,’ said he, ‘did Esther ever give you sweet things +out of the storeroom?’<br> +<br> +‘Once, papa, when she had been putting out some currant jam, she +offered me what had been left in the spoon.’<br> +<br> +‘Did you take it?’<br> +<br> +‘No, papa, for Eleanor used to say it was a bad trick to lick +out spoons.’<br> +<br> +‘Did you ever know that she took tea and sugar from the storeroom, +for her mother?’<br> +<br> +‘Took home tea and sugar to her mother! She could not have +done it, papa. It would be stealing!’<br> +<br> +Esther, who was next called for, cried a great deal, and begged for +pardon, pleading again and again that -<br> +<br> +‘It was mother,’ an answer which made her young mistresses +again sigh over the remembrance of Rachel’s disregarded advice. +Her fate was left for consideration and consultation with Mr. Devereux, +for Mr. Mohun, seeing himself to blame for having allowed her to be +placed in a situation of so much trial, and thinking that there was +much that was good about her, did not like to send her to her home, +where she was likely to learn nothing but what was bad.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXIV: LOVE’S LABOUR LOST<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘And well, with ready hand and heart,<br> + Each task of toilsome duty taking,<br> +Did one dear inmate take her part,<br> + The last asleep, the earliest waking.’<br> +<br> +In the course of the afternoon Lord Rotherwood and Florence called, +to see Eleanor, inquire after Ada, and make the final arrangements for +going to a morning concert at Raynham the next day. Lady Rotherwood +was afraid of the fatigue, and Florence therefore wished to accompany +her cousins, who, as Eleanor meant to stay at home, were to be under +Mrs. Weston’s protection. Lady Florence and her brother, +therefore, agreed to ride home by Broomhill, and mention the plan to +Mrs. Weston, and took their leave, appointing Adam’s shop as the +place of rendezvous.<br> +<br> +Next morning Emily, Lilias, and Jane happened to be together in the +drawing-room, when Mr. Mohun and Claude came in, the former saying to +Lily, ‘Here is the mason’s account for the gravestone which +you wished to have put up to Agnes Eden; it comes to two pounds. +You undertook half the expense, and as Claude is going to Raynham, he +will pay for it if you will give him your sovereign.’<br> +<br> +‘I will,’ said Lily, ‘but first I must ask Emily to +pay me for the London commissions.’<br> +<br> +Emily repented not having had a private conference with Lily.<br> +<br> +‘So you have not settled your accounts,’ said Mr. Mohun. +‘I hope Lily has not ruined you, Emily.’<br> +<br> +‘I thought her a mirror of prudence,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Well, Emily, is the sovereign forthcoming? I am going directly, +for Frank has something to do at Raynham, and William is going to try +his gray in the phaeton.’<br> +<br> +‘I am afraid you will think me very silly,’ said Emily, +after some deliberation, ‘but I hope Lily will not be very angry +when I confess that seven shillings is the sum total of my property.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, Emily,’ cried Lily, in dismay, ‘what has become +of your five pounds?’<br> +<br> +‘I gave them as a subscription for a clergyman’s widow in +distress,’ said Emily; ‘it was the impulse of a moment, +I could not help it, and, dear Lily, I hope it will not inconvenience +you.’<br> +<br> +‘If papa will be kind enough to wait for this pound till Michaelmas,’ +said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘I would wait willingly,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘but I will +not see you cheated. How much does she owe you?’<br> +<br> +‘The commissions came to six pounds three,’ said Lily, looking +down.<br> +<br> +‘But, Lily,’ said Jane, ‘you forget the old debt.’<br> +<br> +‘Never mind,’ whispered Lily; but Mr. Mohun asked what Jane +had said, and Claude repeated her speech, upon which he inquired, ‘What +old debt?’<br> +<br> +‘Papa,’ said Emily, in her most candid tone, ‘I do +not know what I should have done but for Lily’s kindness. +Really, I cannot get on with my present allowance; being the eldest, +so many expenses come upon me.’<br> +<br> +‘Then am I to understand,’ replied Mr. Mohun, ‘that +your foolish vanity has led you to encroach on your sister’s kindness, +and to borrow of her what you had no reasonable hope of repaying? +Again, Lily, what does she owe you?’<br> +<br> +Emily felt the difference between the sharp, curious eyes with which +Jane regarded her, and the sorrowful downcast looks of Lily, who replied, +‘The old debt is four pounds, but that does not signify.’<br> +<br> +‘Well,’ resumed her father, ‘I cannot blame you for +your good-nature, though an older person might have acted otherwise. +You must have managed wonderfully well, to look always so well dressed +with only half your proper income. Here is the amount of the debt. +Is it right? And, Lily, one thing more; I wish to thank you for +what you have done towards keeping this house in order. You have +worked hard, and endured much, and from all I can gather, you have prevented +much mischief. Much has unfairly been thrown upon you, and you +have well and steadily done your duty. For you, Emily, I have +more to say to you, but I shall not enter on it at present, for it is +late. You had better get ready, or you will keep the others waiting.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not think I can go,’ sighed Emily.<br> +<br> +‘You are wanted,’ said Mr. Mohun. ‘I do not +think your aunt would like Florence to go without you.’<br> +<br> +Lily had trembled as much under her father’s praise as Emily under +his blame. She did not feel as if his commendation was merited, +and longed to tell him of her faults and follies, but this was no fit +time, and she hastened to prepare for her expedition, her spirits scarcely +in time for a party of pleasure. Jane talked about the 30th, and +asked questions about London, all the way to Raynham, and both Emily +and Lily were glad to join in her chatter, in hopes of relieving their +own embarrassment.<br> +<br> +On arriving at the place of meeting they found Lady Florence watching +for them.<br> +<br> +‘I am glad you are come,’ said she, ‘Rotherwood will +always set out either too soon or too late, and this time it was too +soon, so here we have been full a quarter of an hour, but he does not +care. There he is, quite engrossed with his book.’<br> +<br> +Lord Rotherwood was standing by the counter, reading so intently that +he did not see his cousins’ arrival. When they entered he +just looked up, shook hands, asked after Ada, and went on reading. +Lily began looking for some books for the school, which she had long +wished for, and was now able to purchase; Emily sat down in a melancholy, +abstracted mood, and Florence and Jane stood together talking.<br> +<br> +‘You know you are all to come early,’ said the former, ‘I +do not know how we should manage without you. Rotherwood insists +on having everything the same day - poor people first, and gentry and +farmers altogether. Mamma does not like it, and I expect we shall +be dreadfully tired; but he says he will not have the honest poor men +put out for the fashionables; and you know we are all to dance with +everybody. But Jenny, who is this crossing the street? Look, +you have an eye for oddities.’<br> +<br> +‘Miss Fitchett, the subscription-hunter,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘She is actually coming to hunt us. I believe I have my +purse. Oh! Emily is to be the first victim.’<br> +<br> +Miss Fitchett advanced to Emily, and saying that she believed she had +the honour to address Miss Mohun, began to tell her that her friend +having been prematurely informed of her small efforts, had with a noble +spirit of independence begged that the subscription might not be continued, +and that what had already been given might be returned, and she rejoiced +in this opportunity of making the explanation. But Miss Fitchett +could not bear to relinquish the five-pound note, and added, that perhaps +Miss Mohun might not object to apply her subscription to some other +object, the Dorcas Society for instance.<br> +<br> +‘Thank you, I have no interest in the Dorcas Society,’ said +Emily; a reply which brought upon her a full account of all its aims +and objects; and as still her polite looks spoke nothing of assent, +Miss Fitchett went on with a string of other societies, speaking the +louder and the more eagerly in the hope of attracting the attention +of the young marquis and his sister. Emily was easily overwhelmed +with words, and not thinking it lady-like to claim her money, yet feeling +that none of these societies were fit objects for it, she stood confused +and irresolute, unwilling either to consent or refuse. Jane, perceiving +her difficulty, turned to Lord Rotherwood, and rousing him from his +book, explained Emily’s distress in a few words, and sent him +to her rescue. He stepped forward just as Miss Fitchett, taking +silence for consent, was proceeding to thank Emily; ‘I think you +misunderstand Miss Mohun,’ said he. ‘Since her subscription +is not needed by the person for whom it was intended, she would be glad +to have it restored. She does not wish to encourage any unauthorised +societies.’<br> +<br> +Boy as he was, in appearance still more than in age, there was a dignity +in his manner which, together with the principle on which he spoke, +overawed Miss Fitchett even more than his rank. She only said, +‘Oh! my lord, I beg your pardon. Certainly, only - ’<br> +<br> +The note was placed in Emily’s hands, and with a bow from Lord +Rotherwood, she retreated, murmuring to herself the remonstrance which +she had not courage to bestow upon the Marquis.<br> +<br> +‘Thank you, thank you, Rotherwood,’ said Emily; ‘you +have done me a great service.’<br> +<br> +‘Well done, Rotherwood,’ said Florence; ‘you have +given the old lady something to reflect upon.’<br> +<br> +‘Made a public announcement of principle,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘I was determined to give her a reason,’ said the Marquis, +laughing, ‘but I assure you I felt like the stork with its head +in the wolf’s mouth, I thought she would give me a screed of doctrine. +How came you to let your property get unto her clutches, Emily?’<br> +<br> +‘It was a subscription for Mrs. Aylmer,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Our curate’s wife!’ cried he with a start; ‘how +was it? Florence, did you know anything? I thought she was +in London. Why were we in the dark? Tell me all.’<br> +<br> +‘All I know is that she is living somewhere in Raynham, and last +week there was a paper here to say that she was in want of the means +of fitting out her son for India.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, yes, Johnny, I know my father did get a promise for him +- well!’<br> +<br> +‘That is all I know, except that she does not choose to be a beggar.’<br> +<br> +‘Poor Mrs. Aylmer! shameful neglect! she shall not be ill-used +any longer, I will find her out this instant. Don’t wait +for me.’<br> +<br> +And after a few words to Mr. Adams, off he went, walking as fast as +he could, and leaving the young ladies not without fear of another invasion. +Soon, however, the brothers came in, and presently after Mrs. Weston +appeared. It was agreed that Lord Rotherwood should be left to +his own devices, and they set out for the concert-room. Poor Florence +lost much pleasure in disappointment at his non-appearance, but when +the concert was over they found him sitting in the carriage, reading. +As soon as they appeared he sprang out, and came to meet them, pouring +rapidly out a history of his adventures.<br> +<br> +‘Then you have found them, and what can be done for them?’<br> +<br> +‘Everything ought to be done, but Mrs. Aylmer has a spirit of +independence. That foolish woman’s advertisement was unknown +to her till Emily’s five pounds came in, so fine a nest-egg that +she could not help cackling, whereupon Mrs. Aylmer insisted on having +every farthing returned.’<br> +<br> +‘Can she provide the boy’s outfit?’<br> +<br> +‘She says so, or rather that her daughter can, but I shall see +about that. It is worth while to be of age. Imagine! +That bank which failed was the end of my father’s legacy. +They must have lived on a fraction of nothing! Edward went to +sea. Miss Aylmer went out as a governess. Now she is at +home.’<br> +<br> +‘Miss Aylmer!’ exclaimed Miss Weston, ‘I know she +was a clergyman’s daughter. Do you know the name of the +family she lived with?’<br> +<br> +‘Was it Grant?’ said William. ‘I remember hearing +of her going to some Grants.’<br> +<br> +‘It was,’ said Alethea; ‘she must be the same. +Is she at home?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Lord Rotherwood, ‘and you may soon see +her, for I mean to have them all to stay at the castle as soon as our +present visitors are gone. My mother and Florence shall call upon +them on Friday.’<br> +<br> +‘Now,’ said Claude, ‘I have not found out what brought +them back to Raynham.’<br> +<br> +‘Have you lived at Beechcroft all your life, and never discovered +that there is a grammar-school at Raynham, with special privileges for +the sons of clergymen of the diocese?’<br> +<br> +A few more words, and the cousins parted; Emily by no means sorry that +she had been obliged to go to Raynham. She tendered the five-pound +note to her father, but he desired her to wait till Friday, and then +to bring him a full account of her expenditure of the year. Her +irregular ways made this almost impossible, especially as in the present +state of affairs she wished to avoid a private conference with either +Lily or Jane. She was glad that an invitation to dine and sleep +at the castle on Wednesday would save her from the peril of having to +talk to Lily in the evening. Reginald came home on Tuesday, to +the great joy of all the party, and especially to that of Phyllis. +This little maiden was more puzzled by the events that had taken place +than conscious of the feeling which she had once thought must be so +delightful. She could scarcely help perceiving that every one +was much more kind to her than usual, especially Claude and Lily, and +Lord Rotherwood said things which she could not at all understand. +Her observation to Reginald was, ‘Was it not lucky I had a cough +on Twelfth Day, or Claude would not have told me what to do about gunpowder?’<br> +<br> +Reginald troubled Phyllis much by declaring that nothing should induce +him to kiss his nephew, and she was terribly shocked by the indifference +with which Eleanor treated his neglect, even when it branched out into +abuse of babies in general, and in particular of Henry’s bald +head and turned-up nose.<br> +<br> +In the evening of Wednesday Phyllis was sitting with Ada in the nursery, +when Reginald came up with the news that the party downstairs were going +to practise country dances. Eleanor was to play, Claude was to +dance with Lily, and Frank with Jane, and he himself wanted Phyllis +for a partner.<br> +<br> +‘Oh!’ sighed Ada, ‘I wish I was there to dance with +you, Redgie! What are the others doing?’<br> +<br> +‘Maurice is reading, and William went out as soon as dinner was +over; make haste, Phyl.’<br> +<br> +‘Don’t go,’ said Ada, ‘I shall be alone all +to-morrow, and I want you.’<br> +<br> +‘Nonsense,’ said Reginald, ‘do you think she is to +sit poking here all day, playing with those foolish London things of +yours?’<br> +<br> +‘But I am ill, Redgie. I wish you would not be cross. +Everybody is cross to me now, I think.’<br> +<br> +‘I will stay, Ada,’ said Phyllis. ‘You know, +Redgie, I dance like a cow.’<br> +<br> +‘You dance better than nothing,’ said Reginald, ‘I +must have you.’<br> +<br> +‘But you are not ill, Redgie,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +He went down in displeasure, and was forced to consider Sir Maurice’s +picture as his partner, until presently the door opened, and Phyllis +appeared. ‘So you have thought better of it,’ cried +he.<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Phyllis, ‘I cannot come to dance, but Ada +wants you to leave off playing. She says the music makes her unhappy, +for it makes her think about to-morrow.’<br> +<br> +‘Rather selfish, Miss Ada,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Stay here, Phyllis, now you are come,’ said Mr. Mohun, +‘I will go and speak to Ada.’<br> +<br> +Phyllis was now captured, and made to take her place opposite to Reginald; +but more than once she sighed under the apprehension that Ada was receiving +a lecture. This was the case; and very little did poor Ada comprehend +the change that had taken place in the conduct of almost every one towards +her; she did not perceive that she was particularly naughty, and yet +she had suddenly become an object of blame, instead of a spoiled pet. +Formerly her little slynesses had been unnoticed, and her overbearing +ways towards Phyllis scarcely remarked, but now they were continually +mentioned as grievous faults. Esther, her especial friend and +comforter, was scarcely allowed to come into the same room with her; +Hannah treated her with a kind of grave, silent respect, far from the +familiarity which she liked; little Henry’s nurse never would +talk to her, and if it had not been for Phyllis, she would have been +very miserable. On Phyllis, however, she repaid herself for all +the mortifications that she received, while the sweet-tempered little +girl took all her fretfulness and exactions as results of her illness, +and went on pitying her, and striving to please her.<br> +<br> +When Phyllis came up to wish her good-night, she was received with an +exclamation at her lateness in a peevish tone: ‘Yes, I am late,’ +said Phyllis, merrily, ‘but we had not done dancing till tea-time, +and then Eleanor was so kind as to say I might sit up to have some tea +with them.’<br> +<br> +‘Ah! and you quite forgot how tiresome it is up here, with nobody +to speak to,’ said Ada. ‘How cross they were not to +stop the music when I said it made me miserable!’<br> +<br> +‘Claude said it was selfish to want to stop five people’s +pleasure for one,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘But I am so ill,’ said Ada. ‘If Claude was +as uncomfortable as I am, he would know how to be sorry for me. +And only think - Phyl, what are you doing? Do not you know I do +not like the moonlight to come on me. It is like a great face +laughing at me.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, I like the moon so much!’ said Phyllis, creeping +behind the curtain to look out, ‘there is something so white and +bright in it; when it comes on the bed-clothes, it makes me go to sleep, +thinking about white robes, oh! and all sorts of nice things.’<br> +<br> +‘I can’t bear the moon,’ said Ada; ‘do not you +know, Maurice says that the moon makes the people go mad, and that is +the reason it is called lunacy, after <i>la lune</i>?’<br> +<br> +‘I asked Miss Weston about that,’ said Phyllis, ‘because +of the Psalm, and she said it was because it was dangerous to go to +sleep in the open air in hot countries. Ada, I wish you could +see now. There is the great round moon in the middle of the sky, +and the sky such a beautiful colour, and a few such great bright stars, +and the trees so dark, and the white lilies standing up on the black +pond, and the lawn all white with dew! what a fine day it will be to-morrow!’<br> +<br> +‘A fine day for you!’ said Ada, ‘but only think of +poor me all alone by myself.’<br> +<br> +‘You will have baby,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘Baby - if he could talk it would be all very well. It is +just like the cross people in books. Here I shall lie and cry +all the time, while you are dancing about as merry as can be.’<br> +<br> +‘No, no, Ada, you will not do that,’ said Phyllis, with +tears in her eyes. ‘There is baby with all his pretty ways, +and you may teach him to say Aunt Ada, and I will bring you in numbers +of flowers, and there is your new doll, and all the pretty things that +came from London, and the new book of Fairy Tales, and all sorts - oh! +no, do not cry, Ada.’<br> +<br> +‘But I shall, for I shall think of you dancing, and not caring +for me.’<br> +<br> +‘I do care, Ada - why do you say that I do not? I cannot +bear it, Ada, dear Ada.’<br> +<br> +‘You don’t, or you would not go and leave me alone.’<br> +<br> +‘Then, Ada, I will not go,’ said Phyllis; ‘I could +not bear to leave you crying here all alone.’<br> +<br> +‘Thank you, dear good Phyl, but I think you will not have much +loss. You know you do not like dancing, and you cannot do it well, +and they will be sure to laugh at you.’<br> +<br> +‘And I daresay Redgie and Marianne will tell us all about it,’ +said Phyllis, sighing. ‘I should rather like to have seen +it, but they will tell us.’<br> +<br> +‘Then do you promise to stay? - there’s a dear,’ said +Ada.<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said Phyllis. ‘Cousin Robert is coming +in, and that will be very nice, and I hope he will not look as he did +the day the gunpowder went off - oh, dear!’ She went back +to the window to get rid of her tears unperceived. ‘Ah,’ +cried she, ‘there is some one in the garden!’<br> +<br> +‘A man!’ screamed Ada - ‘a thief, a robber - call +somebody!’<br> +<br> +‘No, no,’ said Phyllis, laughing, ‘it is only William; +he has been out all the evening, and now papa has come out to speak +to him, and they are walking up and down together. I wonder whether +he has been sitting with Cousin Robert or at Broomhill! Well, +good-night, Ada. Here comes Hannah.’<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXV: THE THIRTIETH OF JULY<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘The heir, with roses in his shoes,<br> +That night might village partner choose.’<br> +<br> +The 30th of July was bright and clear, and Phyllis was up early, gathering +flowers, which, with the help of Jane’s nimble fingers, she made +into elegant little bouquets for each of her sisters, and for Claude.<br> +<br> +‘How is this?’ said Mr. Hawkesworth, pretending to look +disconsolate, ‘am I to sing “Fair Phyllida flouts me,” +or why is my button-hole left destitute?’<br> +<br> +‘Perhaps that is for you on the side-table,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! no,’ said Phyllis, ‘those are some Provence roses +for Miss Weston and Marianne, because Miss Weston likes those, and they +have none at Broomhill. Redgie is going to take care of them. +I will get you a nosegay, Frank. I did not know you liked it.’<br> +<br> +She started up. ‘How prudent, Phyllis,’ said Eleanor, +‘not to have put on your muslin frock yet.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! I am not going,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘Not going!’ was the general outcry.<br> +<br> +‘No, poor Ada cries so about being left at home with only baby, +that I cannot bear it, and so I promised to stay.’<br> +<br> +Away went Phyllis, and Reginald exclaimed, ‘Well, she shall not +be served so. I will go and tell Ada so this instant.’<br> +<br> +Off he rushed, and putting in his head at the nursery door, shouted, +‘Ada, I am come to tell you that Phyl is not to be made your black-a-moor +slave! She shall go, that is settled.’<br> +<br> +Down he went with equal speed, without waiting for an answer, and arrived +while Eleanor was saying that she thought Ada was provided with amusement +with the baby, her playthings, and books, and that Mr. Devereux had +promised to make her a visit.<br> +<br> +‘Anybody ought to stay at home rather than Phyllis,’ said +Lily; ‘I think I had better stay.’<br> +<br> +‘No, no, Lily,’ said Jane, ‘you are more wanted than +I am; you are really worth talking to and dancing with; I had much better +be at home.’<br> +<br> +‘I forgot!’ exclaimed William. ‘Mrs. Weston +desired me to say that she is not going, and she will take care of Ada. +Mr. Weston will set her down at half-past ten, and take up one of us.’<br> +<br> +‘I will be that one,’ said Reginald, ‘I have not seen +Miss Weston since I came home. I meant to walk to Broomhill after +dinner yesterday, only the Baron stopped me about that country-dance. +Last Christmas I made her promise to dance with me to-day.’<br> +<br> +Lily had hoped to be that one, but she did not oppose Reginald, and +turned to listen to Eleanor, who was saying, ‘Let us clearly understand +how every one is to go, it will save a great deal of confusion. +You and Jane, and Maurice, go in the phaeton, do not you? And +who drives you?’<br> +<br> +‘William, I believe,’ said Lily. ‘Claude goes +earlier, so he rides the gray. Then there is the chariot for you +and Frank, and papa and Phyllis.’<br> +<br> +So it was proposed, but matters turned out otherwise. The phaeton, +which, with a promoted cart-horse, was rather a slow conveyance, was +to set out first, but the whole of the freight was not ready in time. +The ladies were in the hall as soon as it came to the door, but neither +of the gentlemen were forthcoming. Reginald, who was wandering +in the hall, was sent to summon them; but down he came in great wrath. +Maurice had declared that he was not ready, and they must wait for him +till he had tied his neckcloth, which Reginald opined would take three +quarters of an hour, as he was doing it scientifically, and William +had said that he was not going in the gig at all, that he had told Wat +Greenwood to drive, and that Reginald must go instead of Maurice.<br> +<br> +In confirmation of the startling fact Wat, who had had a special invitation +from the Marquis, was sitting in the phaeton in his best black velvet +coat. Jane only hoped that Emily would not look out of the window, +or she would certainly go into fits on seeing them arrive with the old +phaeton, the thick-legged cart-horse, and Wat Greenwood for a driver; +and Reginald, after much growling at Maurice, much bawling at William’s +door, and, as Jane said, romping and roaring in all parts of the house, +was forced to be resigned to his fate, and all the way to Hetherington +held a very amusing conversation with his good-natured friend the keeper.<br> +<br> +They were overtaken, nodded to, and passed by the rest of their party. +Maurice had been reduced to ride the pony, William came with the ‘Westons, +and the chariot load was just as had been before arranged.<br> +<br> +Claude came out to meet them at the door, saying, ‘I need not +have gone so early. What do you think has become of the hero of +the day? Guess, I will just give you this hint,<br> +<br> +<br> +“Though on pleasure he was bent, he had no selfish mind.”’<br> +<br> +<br> +‘Oh! the Aylmers, I suppose,’ said Lilias.<br> +<br> +‘Right, Lily, he heard something at dinner yesterday about a school +for clergymen’s sons, which struck him as likely to suit young +Devereux Aylmer, and off he set at seven o’clock this morning +to Raynham, to breakfast with Mrs. Aylmer, and talk to her about it. +Never let me hear again that he is engrossed with his own affairs!’<br> +<br> +‘And why is he in such a hurry?’ asked Lily.<br> +<br> +‘’Tis his nature,’ said Claude, ‘besides Travers, +who mentioned this school, goes away to-morrow. My aunt is in +a fine fright lest he should not come back in time. Did not you +hear her telling papa so in the drawing-room?’<br> +<br> +‘There he is, riding up to the door,’ said Phyllis, who +had joined them in the hall. Lord Rotherwood stopped for a few +moments at the door to give some directions to the servants, and then +came quickly in. ‘Ah, there you are! - What time is it? +It is all right, Claude - Devereux is just the right age. I asked +him a few questions this morning, and he will stand a capital examination. +Ha, Phyl, I am glad to see you.’<br> +<br> +‘I wish you many happy returns of the day, Cousin Rotherwood.’<br> +<br> +‘Thank you, Phyl, we had better see how we get through one such +day before we wish it to return. Are the rest come?’<br> +<br> +He went on into the drawing-room, and hastily informing his mother that +he had sent the carriage to fetch Miss Aylmer and her brothers to the +feast, called Claude to come out on the lawn to look at the preparations. +The bowling-green was to serve as drawing-room, and at one end was pitched +an immense tent where the dinner was to be.<br> +<br> +‘I say, Claude,’ said he in his quickest and most confused +way, ‘I depend upon you for one thing. Do not let the Baron +be too near me.’<br> +<br> +‘The Baron of Beef?’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘No, the Baron of Beechcroft. If you wish my speech to be +<i>radara tadara, </i>put him where I can imagine that he hears me.’<br> +<br> +‘Very well,’ said Claude, laughing; ‘have you any +other commands?’<br> +<br> +‘No - yes, I have though. You know what we settled about +the toasts. Hunt up old Farmer Elderfield as soon as he comes, +and do not frighten him. If you could sit next to him and make +him get up at the right time, it would be best. Tell him I will +not let any one propose my health but my great-grandfather’s tenant. +You will manage it best. And tell Frank Hawkesworth, and Mr. Weston, +or some of them, to manage so that the gentry may not sit together in +a herd, two or three together would be best. Mind, Claude, I depend +on you for being attentive to all the damsels. I cannot be everywhere +at once, and I see your great Captain will be of no use to me.’<br> +<br> +Here news was brought that the labourers had begun to arrive, and the +party went to the walnut avenue, where the feast was spread. It +was pleasant to see so many poor families enjoying their excellent dinner; +but perhaps the pleasantest sight was the lord of the feast speaking +to each poor man with all his bright good-natured cordiality. +Mr. Mohun was surprised to see how well he knew them all, considering +how short a time he had been among them, and Lilias found Florence rise +in her estimation, when she perceived that the inside of the Hetherington +cottages were not unknown to her.<br> +<br> +‘Do you know, Florence,’ said she, as they walked back to +the house together, ‘I did you great injustice? I never +expected you to know or care about poor people.’<br> +<br> +‘No more I did till this winter,’ said Florence; ‘I +could not do anything, you know, before. Indeed, I do not do much +now, only Rotherwood has made me go into the school now and then; and +when first we came, he made it his especial request that whenever a +poor woman came to ask for anything I would go and speak to her. +And so I could not help being interested about those I knew.’<br> +<br> +‘How odd it is that we never talked about it,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘I never talk of it,’ said Florence, ‘because mamma +never likes to hear of my going into cottages with Rotherwood. +Besides, somehow I thought you did it as a matter of duty, and not of +pleasure. Oh! Rotherwood, is that you?’<br> +<br> +‘The Aylmers are come,’ said Lord Rotherwood, drawing her +arm into his, ‘and I want you to come and speak to them, Florence +and Lily; I can’t find any one; all the great elders have vanished. +You know them of old, do not you, Lily?’<br> +<br> +‘Of old? Yes; but of so old that I do not suppose they will +know me. You must introduce me.’<br> +<br> +He hastened them to the drawing-room, where they found Miss Aylmer, +a sensible, lady-like looking person, and two brothers, of about fifteen +and thirteen.<br> +<br> +‘Well, Miss Aylmer, I have brought you two old friends; so old, +that they think you have forgotten them - my cousin Lilias, and my sister +Florence.’<br> +<br> +‘We have not forgotten you, Miss Aylmer,’ said Florence, +warmly shaking hands with her. ‘You seem so entirely to +belong to Hetherington that I scarcely knew the place without you.’<br> +<br> +There was something that particularly pleased Lily in the manner in +which Miss Aylmer answered. Florence talked a little while, and +then proposed to adjourn to the supplementary drawing-room - the lawn +- where the company were already assembling.<br> +<br> +Florence was soon called off to receive some other guest, and Lilias +spent a considerable time in sitting under a tree talking to Miss Aylmer, +whom she found exceedingly pleasant and agreeable, remembering all that +had happened during their former intercourse, and interested in everything +that was going on. Lily was much amused when her companion asked +her who that gentleman was - ‘that tall, thin young man, with +dark hair, whom she had seen once or twice speaking to Lord Rotherwood?’<br> +<br> +The tall gentleman advanced, spoke to Miss Aylmer, told Lily that the +world was verging towards the tent, and giving one arm to her and the +other to Miss Aylmer, took that direction. In the meantime Phyllis +had been walking about with her eldest sister, and wondering what had +become of all the others. In process of time she found herself +seated on a high bench in the tent, with a most beautiful pink-and-white +sugar temple on the table before her. She was between Eleanor +and Frank. All along one side of the table was a row of faces +which she had never seen before, and she gazed at them in search of +some well-known countenance. At last Mr. Weston caught her eye, +and nodded to her. Next to him she saw Marianne, then Reginald; +on the other side Alethea and William. A little tranquillised +by seeing that every one was not lost, she had courage to eat some cold +chicken, to talk to Frank about the sugar temple, and to make an inventory +in her mind of the smartest bonnets for Ada’s benefit. She +was rather unhappy at not having found out when grace was said before +dinner, and she made Eleanor promise to tell her in time to stand up +after dinner. She could not, however, hear much, though warned +in time, and by this time more at ease and rather enjoying herself than +otherwise. Now Eleanor told her to listen, for Cousin Rotherwood +was going to speak. She listened, but knew not what was said, +until Mr. Hawkesworth told her it was Church and Queen. What Church +and Queen had to do with Cousin Rotherwood’s birthday she could +not imagine, and she laid it up in her mind to ask Claude. The +next time she was told to listen she managed to hear more. By +the help of Eleanor’s directions, she found out the speaker, an +aged farmer, in a drab greatcoat, his head bald, excepting a little +silky white hair, which fell over the collar of his coat. It was +Mr. Elderfield, the oldest tenant on the estate, and he was saying in +a slow deliberate tone that he was told he was to propose his lordship’s +health. It was a great honour for the like of him, and his lordship +must excuse him if he did not make a fine speech. All he could +say was, that he had lived eighty-three years on the estate, and held +his farm nearly sixty years; he had seen three marquises of Rotherwood +besides his present lordship, and he had always found them very good +landlords. He hoped and believed his lordship was like his fathers, +and he was sure he could do no better than tread in their steps. +He proposed the health of Lord Rotherwood, and many happy returns of +the day to him.<br> +<br> +The simplicity and earnestness of the old man’s tones were appreciated +by all, and the tremendous cheer, which almost terrified Phyllis, was +a fit assent to the hearty good wishes of the old farmer.<br> +<br> +‘Now comes the trial!’ whispered Claude to Lilias, after +he had vehemently contributed his proportion to the noise. Lilias +saw that his colour had risen, as much as if he had to make a speech +himself, and he earnestly examined the coronet on his fork, while every +other eye was fixed on the Marquis. Eloquence was not to be expected; +but, at least, Lord Rotherwood spoke clearly and distinctly.<br> +<br> +‘My friends,’ said he, ‘you must not expect much of +a speech from me; I can only thank you for your kindness, say how glad +I am to see you here, and tell you of my earnest desire that I may not +prove myself unworthy to be compared with my forefathers.’ +Here was a pause. Claude’s hand shook, and Lily saw how +anxious he was, but in another moment the Marquis went on smoothly. +‘Now, I must ask you to drink the health of a gentleman who has +done his utmost to compensate for the loss which we sustained nine years +ago, and to whom I owe any good intentions which I may bring to the +management of this property. I beg leave to propose the health +of my uncle, Mr. Mohun, of Beechcroft.’<br> +<br> +Claude was much surprised, for his cousin had never given him a hint +of his intention. It was a moment of great delight to all the +young Mohuns when the cheer rose as loud and hearty as for the young +lord himself, and Phyllis smiled, and wondered, when she saw her papa +rise to make answer. He said that he could not attempt to answer +Lord Rotherwood, as he had not heard what he said, but that he was much +gratified by his having thought of him on this occasion, and by the +goodwill which all had expressed. This was the last speech that +was interesting; Lady Rotherwood’s health and a few more toasts +followed, and the party then left the tent for the lawn, where the cool +air was most refreshing, and the last beams of the evening sun were +lighting the tops of the trees.<br> +<br> +The dancing was now to begin, and this was the time for Claude to be +useful. He had spent so much time at home, and had accompanied +his father so often in his rides, that he knew every one, and he was +inclined to make every exertion in the cause of his cousin, and on this +occasion seemed to have laid aside his indolence and disinclination +to speak to strangers.<br> +<br> +Lady Florence was also indefatigable, darting about, with a wonderful +perception who everybody was, and with whom each would like to dance. +She seized upon little Devereux Aylmer for her own partner before any +one else had time to ask her, and carried him about the lawn, hunting +up and pairing other shy people.<br> +<br> +‘Why, Reginald, what are you about? You can manage a country-dance. +Make haste; where is your partner?’<br> +<br> +‘I meant to dance with Miss Weston,’ said Reginald, piteously.<br> +<br> +‘Miss Weston? Here she is.’<br> +<br> +‘That is only Marianne,’ said Reginald.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Miss Weston is dancing with William. Marianne, +will you accept my apologies for this discourteous cousin of mine? +I am perfectly horror-struck. There, Redgie, take her with a good +grace; you will never have a better partner.’<br> +<br> +Marianne was only too glad to have Reginald presented to her, ungracious +as he was, but the poor little couple met with numerous disasters. +They neither of them knew the way through a country-dance, and were +almost run over every time they went down the middle; Reginald’s +heels were very inconvenient to his neighbours; so much so, that once +Claude thought it expedient to admonish him, that dancing was not merely +an elegant name for football without a ball. Every now and then +some of their friends gave them a hasty intimation that they were all +wrong, but that they knew already but too well. At last, just +when Marianne had turned scarlet with vexation, and Reginald was growing +so desperate that he had thoughts of running a way, the dance came to +an end, and Reginald, with very scanty politeness to his partner, rushed +away to her sister, saying, in rather a reproachful tone, ‘Miss +Weston, you promised to dance with me.’<br> +<br> +‘I have not forgotten my promise,’ said Alethea, smiling.<br> +<br> +At the same moment Claude hurried up, saying, ‘William, I want +a partner for Miss Wilkins, of the Wold Farm. Miss Wilkins, let +me introduce Captain Mohun.’<br> +<br> +‘You see I have made the Captain available,’ said Claude, +presently after meeting Lord Rotherwood, as he speeded across the lawn.<br> +<br> +‘Have you? I did not think him fair game,’ said the +Marquis. ‘Where is your heroine, Claude? I have not +seen her dancing.’<br> +<br> +‘What heroine? What do you mean?’<br> +<br> +‘Honest Phyl, of course. Did you think I meant Miss Weston?’<br> +<br> +‘With Eleanor, somewhere. Is the next dance a quadrille?’<br> +<br> +Lord Rotherwood ran up the bank to the terraced walks, where the undancing +part of the company sat or walked about. Soon he spied Phyllis +standing by Eleanor, looking rather wearied. ‘Phyllis, can +you dance a quadrille?’<br> +<br> +Phyllis opened her eyes, and Eleanor desired her to answer.<br> +<br> +‘Come, Phyllis, let me see what M. Le Roi has done for you.’<br> +<br> +He led her away, wondering greatly, and thinking how very good-natured +Cousin Rotherwood was.<br> +<br> +Emily was much surprised to find Phyllis her <i>vis à vis</i>. +Emily was very generally known and liked, and had no lack of grand partners, +but she would have liked to dance with the Marquis. When the quadrille +was over, she was glad to put herself in his way, by coming up to take +charge of Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘Well done, Phyl,’ said he; ‘no mistakes. You +must have another dance. Whom shall we find for you?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! Rotherwood,’ said Emily, ‘you cannot think how +you gratified us all with your speech.’<br> +<br> +‘Ah! I always set my heart on saying something of the kind; but +I wished I could have dared to add the bride’s health.’<br> +<br> +‘The bride!’<br> +<br> +‘Do not pretend to have no eyes,’ said Lord Rotherwood, +with a significant glance, which directed Emily’s eyes to the +terrace, where Mr. Mohun and Alethea were walking together in eager +conversation.<br> +<br> +Emily was ready to sink into the earth. Jane’s surmises, +and the mysterious words of her father, left her no further doubt. +At this moment some one asked her to dance, and scarcely knowing what +she did or said, she walked to her place. Lord Rotherwood now +found a partner for Phyllis, and a farmer’s daughter for himself.<br> +<br> +This dance over, Phyllis’s partner did not well know how to dispose +of her, and she grew rather frightened on finding that none of her sisters +were in sight. At last she perceived Reginald standing on the +bank, and made her escape to him.<br> +<br> +‘Redgie, did you see who I have been dancing with? Cousin +Rotherwood and Claude’s grand Oxford friend - Mr. Travers.’<br> +<br> +‘It is all nonsense,’ said Reginald. ‘Come out +of this mob of people.’<br> +<br> +‘But where is Eleanor?’<br> +<br> +‘Somewhere in the midst. They are all absurd together.’<br> +<br> +‘What is the matter, Redgie?’ asked Phyllis, unable to account +for this extraordinary fit of misanthropy.<br> +<br> +‘Papa and William both driving me about like a dog,’ said +Reginald; ‘first I danced with Miss Weston - then she saw that +woman - that Miss Aylmer - shook hands - talked - and then nothing would +serve her but to find papa. As soon as the Baron sees me he cries +out, “Why are not you dancing, Redgie? We do not want you!” +Up and down they walk, ever so long, and presently papa turns off, and +begins talking to Miss Aylmer. Then, of course, I went back to +Miss Weston, but then up comes William, as savage as one of his Canadian +bears; he orders me off too, and so here I am! I am sure I am +not going to ask any one else to dance. Come and walk with me +in peace, Phyl. Do you see them? - Miss Weston and Marianne under +that tulip-tree, and the Captain helping them to ice.’<br> +<br> +‘Redgie, did you give Miss Weston her nosegay? Some one +put such beautiful flowers in it, such as I never saw before.’<br> +<br> +‘How could I? They sent me off with Lily and Jane. +I told William I had the flowers in charge, and he said he would take +care of them. By the bye, Phyl,’ and Reginald gave a wondrous +spring, ‘I have it! I have it! I have it! If +he is not in love with Miss Weston you may call me an ass for the rest +of my life.’<br> +<br> +‘I should not like to call you an ass, Redgie,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘Very likely; but do not make me call you one. Hurrah! +Now ask Marianne if it is not so. Marianne must know. How +jolly! I say, Phyl, stay there, and I will fetch Marianne.’<br> +<br> +Away ran Reginald, and presently returned with Marianne, who was very +glad to be invited to join Phyllis. She little knew what an examination +awaited her.<br> +<br> +‘Marianne,’ began Phyllis, ‘I’ll tell you what +- ’<br> +<br> +‘No, I will do it right,’ said Reginald; ‘you know +nothing about it, Phyl. Marianne, is not something going on there?’<br> +<br> +‘Going on?’ said Marianne, ‘Alethea is speaking to +Mrs. Hawkesworth.’<br> +<br> +‘Nonsense, I know better, Marianne. I have a suspicion that +I could tell what the Captain was about yesterday when he walked off +after dinner.’<br> +<br> +‘How very wise you think you look, Reginald!’ said Marianne, +laughing heartily.<br> +<br> +‘But tell us; do tell us, Marianne,’ said Phyllis.<br> +<br> +‘Tell you whet?’<br> +<br> +‘Whether William is going to marry Miss Weston,’ said the +straightforward Phyllis. ‘Redgie says so - only tell us. +Oh! it would be so nice!’<br> +<br> +‘How you blurt it out, Phyl,’ said Reginald. ‘You +do not know how those things are managed. Mind, I found it out +all myself. Just say, Marianne. Am not I right?’<br> +<br> +‘I do not know whether I ought to tell,’ said Marianne.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! then it is all right,’ said Reginald, ‘and I +found it out. Now, Marianne, there is a good girl, tell us all +about it.’<br> +<br> +‘You know I could not say “No” when you asked me,’ +said Marianne; ‘I could not help it really; but pray do not tell +anybody, or Captain Mohun will not like it.’<br> +<br> +‘Does any one know?’ said Reginald.<br> +<br> +‘Only ourselves and Mr. Mohun; and I think Lord Rotherwood guesses, +from something I heard him say to Jane.’<br> +<br> +‘To Jane?’ said Reginald. ‘That is provoking; +she will think she found it out all herself, and be so conceited!’<br> +<br> +‘You need not be afraid,’ said Marianne, laughing; ‘Jane +is on a wrong scent.’<br> +<br> +‘Jane? Oh! I should like to see her out in her reckonings! +I should like to have a laugh against her. What does she think, +Marianne?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! I cannot tell you; it is too bad.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! do; do, pray. You may whisper it if it is too bad for +Phyllis to hear.’<br> +<br> +‘No, no,’ said Marianne; ‘it is nothing but nonsense. +If you hear it, Phyllis shall too; but mind, you must promise not to +say anything to anybody, or I do not know what will become of me.’<br> +<br> +‘Well, we will not,’ said Reginald; ‘boys can always +keep secrets, and I’ll engage for Phyl. Now for it.’<br> +<br> +‘She is in a terrible fright lest it should be Mr. Mohun. +She got it into her head last autumn, and all I could say would not +persuade her out of it. Why, she always calls me Aunt Marianne +when we are alone. Now, Reginald, here comes Maurice. Do +not say anything, I beg and entreat. It is my secret, you know. +I daresay you will all be told to-morrow, - indeed, mamma said so, - +but pray say nothing about me or Jane. It was only settled yesterday +evening.’<br> +<br> +At this moment Maurice came up, with a message that Miss Weston and +Eleanor were going away, and wanted the little girls. They followed +him to the tent, which had been cleared of the tables, and lighted up, +in order that the dancing might continue there. Most of their +own party were collected at the entrance, watching for them. Lilias +came up just as they did, and exclaimed in a tone of disappointment, +on finding them preparing to depart. She had enjoyed herself exceedingly, +found plenty of partners, and was not in the least tired.<br> +<br> +‘Why should she not stay?’ said William. ‘Claude +has engaged to stay to the end of everything, and he may as well drive +her as ride the gray.’<br> +<br> +‘And you, Jenny,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘do you like to +stay or go? Alethea will make room for you in the pony-carriage, +or you may go with Eleanor.<br> +<br> +‘With Eleanor, if you please,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Already, Jane?’ said Lily. ‘Are you tired?’<br> +<br> +Jane drew her aside. ‘Tired of hearing that I was right +about what you would not believe. Did you not hear what he called +her? And Rotherwood has found it out.’<br> +<br> +‘It is all gossip and mistake,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +Here Jane was called away by Eleanor, and departed with her; Lilias +went to look for her aunt or Florence, but on the way was asked to dance +by Mr. Carrington.<br> +<br> +‘I suppose I may congratulate you,’ said he in one of the +pauses in the quadrille.<br> +<br> +Lily thought it best to misunderstand, and answered, ‘Everything +has gone off very well.’<br> +<br> +‘Very. Lord Rotherwood will be a popular man; but my congratulations +refer to something nearer home. I think you owe us some thanks +for having brought them into the neighbourhood.’<br> +<br> +‘Report is very kind in making arrangements,’ said Lily, +with something of Emily’s haughty courtesy.<br> +<br> +‘I hope this is something more than report,’ said her partner.<br> +<br> +‘Indeed, I believe not. I think I may safely say that it +is at present quite unfounded,’ said Lily,<br> +<br> +Mr. Carrington, much surprised, said no more.<br> +<br> +Lily did not believe the report sufficiently to be annoyed by it during +the excitement and pleasure of the evening, and at present her principal +vexation was caused by the rapid diminution of the company. She +and her brother were the very last to depart, even Florence had gone +to bed, and Lady Rotherwood, looking exceedingly tired, kissed Lily +at the foot of the stairs, pitied her for going home in an open carriage, +and wished her good-night in a very weary tone.<br> +<br> +‘I should think you were the fiftieth lady I have handed across +the hall,’ said Lord Rotherwood, as he gave Lily his arm.<br> +<br> +‘But where were the fireworks, Rotherwood?’<br> +<br> +‘Countermanded long ago. We have had enough of them. +Well, I am sorry it is over.’<br> +<br> +‘I am very glad it is so well over,’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Thanks to your exertions, Claude,’ said the Marquis. +‘You acted like a hero.’<br> +<br> +‘Like a dancing dervish you mean,’ said Claude. ‘It +will suffice for my whole life.’<br> +<br> +‘I hope you are not quite exhausted.’<br> +<br> +‘No, thank you. I have turned over a new leaf.’<br> +<br> +‘Talking of new leaves,’ said the Marquis, ‘I always +had a presentiment that Emily’s government would come to a crisis +to-day.’<br> +<br> +‘Do you think it has?’ said Claude.<br> +<br> +‘Trust my word, you will hear great news to-morrow. And +that reminds me - can you come here to-morrow morning? Travers +is going - I drive him to meet the coach at the town, and you were talking +of wanting to see the new windows in the cathedral: it will be a good +opportunity. And dine here afterwards to talk over the adventures.’<br> +<br> +‘Thank you - that last I cannot do. The Baron was saying +it would be the first time of having us all together.’<br> +<br> +‘Very well, besides the great news. I wish I was going back +with you; it is a tame conclusion, only to go to bed. If I was +but to be on the scene of action to-morrow. Tell the Baron that +- no, use your influence to get me invited to dinner on Saturday - I +really want to speak to him.’<br> +<br> +‘Very well,’ said Claude, ‘I’ll do my best. +Good-night.’<br> +<br> +‘Good-night,’ said the Marquis. ‘You have both +done wonders. Still, I wish it was to come over again.’<br> +<br> +‘Few people would say so,’ said Lily, as they drove off.<br> +<br> +‘Few would say so if they thought so,’ said Claude. +‘I have been quite admiring the way Rotherwood has gone on - enjoying +the fun as if he was nobody - just as Reginald might, making other people +happy, and making no secret of his satisfaction in it all.’<br> +<br> +‘Very free from affectation and nonsense,’ said Lily, ‘as +William said of him last Christmas. You were in a fine fright +about his speech, Claude.’<br> +<br> +‘More than I ought to have been. I should have known that +he is too simple-minded and straightforward to say anything but just +what he ought. What a nice person that Miss Aylmer is.’<br> +<br> +‘Is not she, Claude? I was very glad you had her for a neighbour. +Happy the children who have her for a governess. How sensible +and gentle she seems. The Westons - But oh! Claude, tell +me one thing, did you hear - ’<br> +<br> +‘Well, what?’<br> +<br> +‘I am ashamed to say. That preposterous report about papa. +Why, Rotherwood himself seems to believe it, and Mr. Carrington began +to congratulate - ’<br> +<br> +‘The public has bestowed so many ladies on the Baron, that I wonder +it is not tired,’ said Claude. ‘It is time it should +patronise William instead.’<br> +<br> +‘Rotherwood is not the public,’ said Lily, ‘and he +is the last person to say anything impertinent of papa. And I +myself heard papa call her Alethea, which he never used to do. +Claude, what do you think?’<br> +<br> +After a long pause Claude slowly replied, ‘Think? Why, I +think Miss Weston must be a person of great courage. She begins +the world as a grandmother, to say nothing of her eldest daughter and +son being considerably her seniors.’<br> +<br> +‘I do not believe it,’ said Lily. ‘Do you, Claude?’<br> +<br> +‘I cannot make up my mind - it is too amazing. My hair is +still standing on end. When it comes down I may be able to tell +you something.’<br> +<br> +Such were the only answers that Lily could extract from him. He +did not sufficiently disbelieve the report to treat it with scorn, yet +he did not sufficiently credit it to resign himself to such a state +of things.<br> +<br> +On coming home Lily found Emily and Jane in her room, eagerly discussing +the circumstances which, to their prejudiced eyes, seemed strong confirmation. +While their tongues were in full career the door opened and Eleanor +appeared. She told them it was twelve o’clock, turned Jane +out of the room, and made Emily and Lily promise not to utter another +syllable that night.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXVI: THE CRISIS<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘“Is this your care of the nest?” cried he,<br> +“It comes of your gadding abroad,” said she.’<br> +<br> +To the consternation of the disconsolate damsels, the first news they +heard the next morning was that Mr. Mohun was gone to breakfast at Broomhill, +and the intelligence was received by Frank Hawkesworth with a smile +which they thought perfectly malicious. Frank, William, and Reginald +talked a little at breakfast about the <i>fête</i>, but no one +joined them, and Claude looked so grave that Eleanor was convinced that +he had a headache, and vainly tried to persuade him to stay at home, +instead of setting off to Devereux Castle immediately after breakfast.<br> +<br> +The past day had not been spent in vain by Ada. Mrs. Weston had +led her by degrees to open her heart to her, had made her perceive the +real cause of her father’s displeasure, see her faults, and promise +to confess them, a promise which she performed with many tears, as soon +as she saw Eleanor in the morning.<br> +<br> +On telling this to Emily Eleanor was surprised to find that she was +not listened to with much satisfaction. Emily seemed to think +it a piece of interference on the part of Mrs. Weston, and would not +allow that it was likely to be the beginning of improvement in Ada.<br> +<br> +‘The words were put into her mouth,’ said she; ‘and +they were an easy way of escaping from her present state of disgrace.’<br> +<br> +‘On the contrary,’ said Eleanor, ‘she seemed to think +that she justly deserved to be in disgrace.’<br> +<br> +‘Did you think so?’ said Emily, in a careless tone.<br> +<br> +‘You are in a strange mood to-day, Emily,’ said Eleanor.<br> +<br> +‘Am I? I did not know it. I wonder where Lily is.’<br> +<br> +Lily was in her own room, teaching Phyllis. Phyllis was rather +wild and flighty that morning, scarcely able to command her attention, +and every now and then bursting into an irrepressible fit of laughter. +Reginald and Phyllis found it most difficult to avoid betraying Marianne, +and as soon as luncheon was over, they agreed to set out on a long expedition +into the woods, where they might enjoy their wonderful secret together. +Just at this time Mr. Mohun returned. He came into the drawing-room, +and Lilias, perceiving that the threatened conversation with Emily was +about to take place, made her escape to her own room, whither she was +presently followed by Jane, who could not help running after her to +report the great news that Emily was to be deposed.<br> +<br> +‘I am sure of it,’ said she. ‘They sent me out +of the room, but not before I had seen certain symptoms.’<br> +<br> +‘It is very hard that poor Emily should bear all the blame,’ +said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘You have managed to escape it very well,’ said Jane, laughing. +‘You have all the thanks and praise. I suppose it is because +the intimacy with Miss Weston was your work.’<br> +<br> +‘I will not believe that nonsense,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Seeing is believing, they say,’ said Jane. ‘Remember, +it is not only me. Think of Rotherwood. And Maurice guesses +it too, and Redgie told him great things were going on.’<br> +<br> +While Jane was speaking they heard the drawing-room door open, and in +another moment Emily came in.<br> +<br> +It was true that, as Jane said, she had been deposed. Mr. Mohun +had begun by saying, ‘Emily, can you bring me such an account +of your expenditure as I desired?’<br> +<br> +‘I scarcely think I can, papa,’ said Emily. ‘I +am sorry to say that my accounts are rather in confusion.’<br> +<br> +‘That is to say, that you have been as irregular in the management +of your own affairs as you have in mine. Well, I have paid your +debt to Lilias, and from this time forward I require of you to reduce +your expenses to the sum which I consider suitable, and which both Eleanor +and Lilias have found perfectly sufficient. And now, Emily, what +have you to say for the management of my affairs? Can you offer +any excuse for your utter failure?’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed, papa, I am very sorry I vexed you,’ said Emily. +‘Our illness last autumn - different things - I know all has not +been quite as it should be; but I hope that in future I shall profit +by past experience.’<br> +<br> +‘I hope so,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘but I am afraid to trust +the management of the family to you any longer. Your trial is +over, and you have failed, merely because you would not exert yourself +from wilful indolence and negligence. You have not attended to +any one thing committed to your charge - you have placed temptation +in Esther’s way - and allowed Ada to take up habits which will +not be easily corrected. I should not think myself justified in +leaving you in charge any longer, lest worse mischief should ensue. +I wish you to give up the keys to Eleanor for the present.’<br> +<br> +Mr. Mohun would perhaps have added something if Emily had shown signs +of repentance, or even of sorrow. The moment was at least as painful +to him as to her, and he had prepared himself to expect either hysterical +tears, with vows of amendment, or else an argument on her side that +she was right and everybody else wrong. But there was nothing +of the kind; Emily neither spoke nor looked; she only carried the tokens +of her authority to Eleanor, and left the room. She thought she +knew well enough the cause of her deposition, considered it quite as +a matter of course, and departed on purpose to avoid hearing the announcement +which she expected to follow.<br> +<br> +She was annoyed by finding her sisters in her room, and especially irritated +by Jane’s tone, as she eagerly asked, ‘Well, what did he +say?’<br> +<br> +‘Never mind,’ replied Emily, pettishly.<br> +<br> +‘Was it about Miss Weston?’ persisted Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Not actually, but I saw it was coming,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Ah!’ said Jane, ‘I was just telling Lily that she +owes all her present favour to her having been Alethea’s bosom +friend.’<br> +<br> +‘I confess I thought Miss Weston was assuming authority long ago,’ +said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Emily, how can you say so?’ cried Lily. ‘How +can you be so unjust and ungrateful? I do not believe this report; +but if it should be true, are not these foolish expressions of dislike +so many attempts to make yourself undutiful?’<br> +<br> +‘I have rather more sincerity, more dignity, more attachment to +my own mother, than to try to gain favour by affecting what I do not +feel,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘Rather cutting, Emily,’ said Jane.<br> +<br> +‘Do not give that speech an application which Emily did not intend,’ +said Lily, sadly.<br> +<br> +‘What makes you think I did not intend it?’ said Emily, +coldly.<br> +<br> +‘Emily!’ exclaimed Lily, starting up, and colouring violently, +‘are you thinking what you are saying?’<br> +<br> +‘I do not know what you mean,’ replied Emily quietly, in +her soft, unchanging voice; ‘I only mean that if you can feel +satisfied with the new arrangement you are more easily pleased than +I am.’<br> +<br> +‘Only tell me, Emily, do you accuse me of attempting to gain favour +in an unworthy manner?’<br> +<br> +‘I only congratulate you on standing so well with every one.’<br> +<br> +Lily hid her face in her hands. At this moment Eleanor opened +the door, saying, ‘Can you come down? Mrs. Burnet is here.’ +Eleanor went without observing Lily, and Emily was obliged to follow. +Jane lingered in order to comfort Lily.<br> +<br> +‘You know she did not quite mean it,’ said she; ‘she +is only very much provoked.’<br> +<br> +‘I know, I know,’ said Lily; ‘she is very sorry herself +by this time. Of course she did not mean it, but it is the first +unkind thing she ever said to me. It is very silly, and very unjust +to take it seriously, but I cannot help it.’<br> +<br> +‘It is a very abominable shame,’ said Jane, ‘and so +I shall tell Emily.’<br> +<br> +‘No, do not, Jenny, I beg. I know she thinks so<i> </i>herself, +and grieves too much over it. No wonder she is vexed. All +my faults have come upon her. You had better go down, Jane; Mrs. +Burnet is always vexed if she does not see a good many of us, and I +am sure I cannot go. Besides, Emily dislikes having that girl +to entertain.’<br> +<br> +‘Lily, you are so very gentle and forgiving, that I wonder how +any one can say what grieves you,’ said Jane, for once struck +with admiration.<br> +<br> +She went, and Lily remained, weeping over the injustice which she had +forgiven, and feeling as if, all the time, it was fair that the rule +of ‘love’ should, as it were, recoil upon her. Her +tears flowed fast, as she went over the long line of faults and follies +which lay heavy on her conscience. And Emily against her! +That sister who, from her infancy, had soothed her in every trouble, +of whose sympathy she had always felt sure, whose gentleness had been +her admiration in her days of sharp answers and violent temper, who +had seemed her own beyond all the others; this wound from her gave Lily +a bitter feeling of desertion and loneliness. It was like a completion +of her punishment - the broken reed on which she leant had pierced her +deeply.<br> +<br> +She was still sitting on the side of her bed, weeping, when a slight +tap at the door made her start - a gentle tap, the sound of which she +had learned to love in her illness. The next moment Alethea stood +before her, with outstretched arms. This was a time to feel the +value of such a friend, and every suspicion passing from her mind, she +flew to Alethea, kissed her again and again, and laid her head on her +shoulder. Her caress was returned with equal warmth.<br> +<br> +‘But how is this?’ said Alethea, now perceiving that her +face was pale, and marked by tears. ‘How is this, my dear +Lily?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh, Alethea! I cannot tell you, but it is all misery. +The full effect of my baneful principle has appeared!’<br> +<br> +‘Has anything happened?’ exclaimed Alethea.<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Lily. ‘There is nothing new, except +the - Oh! I cannot tell you.’<br> +<br> +‘I wish I could do anything for you, my poor Lily,’ said +Alethea.<br> +<br> +‘You can look kind,’ said Lily, ‘and that is a great +comfort. Oh! Alethea, it was very kind of you to come and speak +to me. I shall do now - I can bear it all better. You have +a comforting face and voice like nobody else. When did you come? +Have you been in the drawing-room?’<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said Alethea. ‘I walked here with Marianne, +and finding there were visitors in the drawing-room we went to Ada, +and she told me where to find you. I had something to tell you +- but perhaps you know already.’<br> +<br> +The colour on her cheek recalled all Lily’s fears, and to hear +the news from herself was an unexpected trial. She felt as if +what she had said justified Emily’s reproach, and turning away +her head, replied, ‘Yes, I know.’<br> +<br> +Alethea was a little hurt by her coldness, but she ascribed it to dejection +and embarrassment, and blamed herself for hurrying on what she had to +tell without sufficient regard for Lily’s distress. There +was an awkward pause, which Alethea broke, by saying, ‘Your brother +thought you would like to hear it from me.’<br> +<br> +‘My brother!’ cried Lily, with a most sudden change of tone. +‘William? Oh, Alethea! dearest Alethea; I beg your pardon. +They almost made me believe it was papa. Oh! I am so very glad!’<br> +<br> +Alethea could not help laughing, and Lily joined her heartily. +It was one of the brightest hours of her life, as she sat with her hand +in her friend’s, pouring out her eager expressions of delight +and affection. All her troubles were forgotten - how should they +not, when Alethea was to be her sister! It seemed as if but a +few minutes had passed, when the sound of the great clock warned Alethea +that it was time to return to Broomhill, and she asked Lilias to walk +back with her. After summoning Marianne, they set out through +the garden, where, on being joined by William, Lily thought it expedient +to betake herself to Marianne, who was but too glad to be able freely +to communicate many interesting particulars. At Broomhill she +had a very enjoyable talk with Mrs. Weston, but her chief delight was +in her walk home with her brother. She was high in his favour, +as Alethea’s chief friend. Though usually reserved, he was +now open, and Lily wondered to find herself honoured with confidence. +His attachment had begun in very early days, when first he knew the +Westons in Brighton. Harry’s death had suddenly called him +away, and a few guarded expressions of his wishes in the course of the +next winter had been cut short by his father. He then went to +Canada, and had had no opportunity of renewing his acquaintance till +the last winter, when, on coming home, to his great joy and surprise +he found the Westons on the most intimate terms with his family.<br> +<br> +He then spoke to his father, who wished him to take a little more time +for consideration, and he had accordingly waited till the summer. +Lily longed to know his plans for the future, and presently he went +on to say that his father wished him to leave the army, live at home, +and let Alethea be the head of the household.<br> +<br> +‘Oh, William! it is perfect. There is an end of all our +troubles. It is as if a great black curtain was drawn up.’<br> +<br> +‘They say such plans never succeed,’ said William; ‘but +we mean to prove the contrary.’<br> +<br> +‘How good it will be for the children!’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! why had we not such a guide at first?’<br> +<br> +‘She has all that Eleanor wants,’ said William.<br> +<br> +‘My follies were not Eleanor’s fault,’ said Lily; +‘but I do think I should not have been quite so silly if I had +known Alethea from the first.’<br> +<br> +It was not in the power of William himself to say more in her praise +than Lily. In the eagerness of their conversation they walked +slowly, and as they were crossing the last field the dinner-bell rang. +As they quickened their steps they saw Mr. Mohun looking at his wheat. +Lily told him how late it was.<br> +<br> +‘There,’ said he, ‘I am always looking after other +people’s affairs. Between Rotherwood and William I have +not a moment for my own crops. However, my turn is coming. +William will have it all on his hands, and the old deaf useless Baron +will sit in his great chair and take his ease.’<br> +<br> +‘Not a bit, papa,’ said Lily, ‘the Baron will grow +young, and take to dancing. He is talking nonsense already.’<br> +<br> +‘Eh! Miss Lily turned saucy? Mrs. William Mohun must +take her in hand. Well, Lily, has he your consent and approbation?’<br> +<br> +‘I only wish this was eighteen months ago, papa.’<br> +<br> +‘We shall soon come into order, Lily. With Miss Aylmer for +the little ones, and Mrs. Mohun for the great ones, I have little fear.’<br> +<br> +‘Miss Aylmer, papa!’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, if all turns out well. We propose to find a house +for her mother in the village, and let her come every day to teach the +little ones.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! I am very glad. We liked her so much.’<br> +<br> +‘I hope,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘that this plan will please +Claude better than my proposal of a governess last month. He looked +as if he expected Minerva with helmet, and Ægis and all. +Now make haste and dress. Do not let us shock Eleanor by keeping +dinner waiting longer than we can help.’<br> +<br> +Lilias found that her sisters had long been dressed and gone down. +She dressed alone, every now and then smiling at her own happy looks +reflected in the glass. Just as she had finished, Claude knocked +at the door, and putting in his head, said, ‘Well, Lily, has the +wonderful news come forth? I see it has, by your face.’<br> +<br> +‘And do you know what it is, Claude?’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘I know what Rotherwood meant, and I cannot think where all our +senses were.’<br> +<br> +‘And, Claude, only say that you like her.’<br> +<br> +‘I think it is a very good thing indeed.’<br> +<br> +‘Only say that you cordially like her.’<br> +<br> +‘I do. I admire her sense and her gentleness very much, +and I think you owe a great deal to her.’<br> +<br> +‘Then you allow that you were unjust last summer?’<br> +<br> +‘I do; but it was owing to you. You were somewhat foolish, +and I thought it was her fault. Besides, I was quite tired of +hearing that extraordinary name of hers for ever repeated.’<br> +<br> +Here they were summoned to dinner, and hurried down. The dinner +passed very strangely; some were in very high spirits, others in a very +melancholy mood; Eleanor and Maurice alone preserved the golden mean; +and the behaviour of the merry ones was perfectly unintelligible to +the rest. Reginald, still bound by his promise to Marianne, was +wild to make his discovery known, and behaved in such a strange and +comical manner as to call forth various reproofs from Eleanor, which +provoked double mirth from the others. The cause of their amusement +was ostensibly the talking over of yesterday’s <i>fête</i>, +but the laughing was more than adequate, even to the wonderful collection +of odd speeches and adventures which were detailed. Emily and +Jane could not guess what had come to Lily, and thought her merriment +very ill-placed. Yet, in justice to Lily, it must be said that +her joy no longer made her wild and thoughtless. There was something +guarded and subdued about her, which made Claude reflect how different +she was from the untamed girl of last summer, who could not be happy +without a sort of intoxication.<br> +<br> +The ladies returned to the drawing-room, where Ada now appeared for +the first time, and while they were congratulating her Mr. Mohun summoned +Eleanor away. Jane followed at a safe distance to see where they +went. They shut themselves into the study, and Jane, now meeting +Maurice, went into the garden with him. ‘It must be coming +now,’ said she; ‘oh! there are William and Claude talking +under the plane-tree.’<br> +<br> +‘Claude has his cunning smile on,’ said Maurice.<br> +<br> +‘No wonder,’ said Jane, ‘it is very absurd. +I daresay William will hardly ever come home now. One comfort +is, they will see I was right from the first.’<br> +<br> +Jane and Maurice remained in the garden till teatime, and thus missed +hearing the whole affair discussed in the drawing-room between Emily, +Lilias, and Frank. This was the first news that Emily heard of +it, and a very great relief it was, for she could imagine liking, and +even loving, Alethea as a sister-in-law. Her chief annoyance was +at present from the perception of the difference between her own position +and that of Lilias. Last year how was Lily regarded in the family, +and what was her opinion worth? Almost nothing; she was only a +clever, romantic, silly girl, while Emily had credit at least for discretion. +Now Lily was consulted and sought out by father, brothers, Eleanor - +no longer treated as a child. And what was Emily? Blamed +or pitied on every side, and left to hear this important news from the +chance mention of her brother-in-law, himself not fully informed. +She had become nobody, and had even lost the satisfaction, such as it +was, of fancying that her father only made her bad management an excuse +for his marriage. She heard many particulars from Lily in the +course of the evening, as they were going to bed; and the sisters talked +with all their wonted affection, although Emily had not thought it worth +while to revive an old grievance, by asking Lily’s pardon for +her unkind speech, and rested satisfied with the knowledge that her +sister knew her heart too well to care for what she said in a moment +of irritation. On the other hand, Lily did not think that she +had a right to mention the plan of Alethea’s government, and the +next day she was glad of her reserve, for her father called her to share +his early walk for the purpose of talking over the scheme, telling her +that he thought she understood the state of things better than Eleanor +could, and that he considered that she had sufficient influence with +Emily to prevent her from making Alethea uncomfortable. The conclusion +of the conversation was, that they thought they might depend upon Emily’s +amiability, her courtesy, and her dislike of trouble, to balance her +love of importance and dignity. And that Alethea would do nothing +to hurt her feelings, and would assume no authority that she could help, +they felt convinced.<br> +<br> +After breakfast Mr. Mohun called Emily into his study, informed her +of his resolution, to which she listened with her usual submissive manner, +and told her that he trusted to her good sense and right feeling to +obviate any collisions of authority which might be unpleasant to Alethea +and hurtful to the younger ones. She promised all that was desired, +and though at the moment she felt hurt and grieved, she almost immediately +recovered her usual spirits, never high, but always serene, and only +seeking for easy amusement and comfort in whatever happened. There +was no public disgrace in her deposition; it would not seem unnatural +to the neighbours that her brother’s wife should be at the head +of the house. She would gain credit for her amiability, and she +would no longer be responsible or obliged to exert herself; and as to +Alethea herself, she could not help respecting and almost loving her. +It was very well it was no worse.<br> +<br> +In the meantime Lily, struck by a sudden thought, had hastened to her +mother’s little deserted morning-room, to see if it could not +be made a delightful abode for Alethea; and she was considering of its +capabilities when she started at the sound of an approaching step. +It was the rapid and measured tread of the Captain, and in a few moments +he entered. ‘Thank you,’ said he, smiling, ‘you +are on the same errand as myself.’<br> +<br> +‘Exactly so,’ said Lily; ‘it will do capitally; how +pretty Long Acre looks, and what a beautiful view of the church!’<br> +<br> +‘This room used once to be pretty,’ said William, looking +round, disappointed; ‘it is very forlorn.’<br> +<br> +‘Ah! but it will look very different when the chairs do not stand +with their backs to the wall. I do not think Alethea knows of +this room, for nobody has sat in it for years, and we will make it a +surprise. And here is your own picture, at ten years old, over +the fireplace! I have such a vision, you will not know the room +when I have set it to rights.’<br> +<br> +They went on talking eagerly of the improvements that might be made, +and from thence came to other subjects - Alethea herself, and the future +plans. At last William asked if Lily knew what made Jane look +as deplorable as she had done for the last two days, and Lily was obliged +to tell him, with the addition that Eleanor had begun to inform her +of the real fact, but that she had stopped her by declaring that she +had known it all from the first. Just as they had mentioned her, +Jane, attracted by the unusual sound of voices in Lady Emily’s +room, came in, asking what they could be doing there. Lily would +scarcely have dared to reply, but William said in a grave, matter-of-fact +way, ‘We are thinking of having this room newly fitted up.’<br> +<br> +‘For Alethea Weston?’ said Jane; ‘how can you, Lily? +I should have thought, at least, it was no laughing matter.’<br> +<br> +‘I advise you to follow Lily’s example and make the best +of it,’ said William.<br> +<br> +‘I do, but it is another thing to stand laughing here. I +see one thing that I shall do - I shall take away your picture and hang +it in my room.’<br> +<br> +‘We shall see,’ said William, following Lilias, who had +left the room to hide her laughter.<br> +<br> +To mystify Jane was the great amusement of the day; Reginald, finding +Maurice possessed with the same notion, did more to maintain it than +the others would have thought right, and Maurice reporting his speeches +to Jane, she had not the least doubt that her idea was correct. +Lord Rotherwood came to dinner, and no sooner had he entered the drawing-room +than Reginald, rejoicing in the absence of the parties concerned, informed +him of the joke, much to his diversion, though rather to the discomfiture +of the more prudent spectators, who might have wished it confined to +themselves.<br> +<br> +‘It has gone far enough,’ said Claude; ‘she will say +something she will repent if we do not take care.’<br> +<br> +‘I should like to reduce her to humble herself to ask an explanation +from Marianne,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘And pray don’t spoil the joke before I have enjoyed it,’ +said Lord Rotherwood. ‘My years of discretion are not such +centuries of wisdom as those of that gentleman who looks as grim as +his namesake the Emperor on a coin.’<br> +<br> +The entrance of Eleanor and Jane here put an end to the conversation, +which was not renewed till the evening, when the younger, or as Claude +called it, the middle-aged part of the company were sitting on the lawn, +leaving the drawing-room to the elder and more prudent, and the terrace +to the wilder and more active. Emily was talking of Mrs. Burnet’s +visit of the day before, and her opinion of the Hetherington festivities. +‘And what an interminable visit it was,’ said Jane; ‘I +thought they would never go!’<br> +<br> +‘People always inflict themselves in a most merciless manner when +there is anything going on,’ said Emily.<br> +<br> +‘I wonder if they guessed anything,’ said Lily.<br> +<br> +‘To be sure they did, and stayed out of curiosity,’ said +Lord Rotherwood. ‘In spite of Emily’s dignified contradictions +of the report, every one knew it the other evening. It was all +in vain that she behaved as if I was speaking treason - people have +eyes.’<br> +<br> +‘Ah! I am very sorry for that contradiction,’ said Lily; +‘I hope people will not fancy we do not like it.’<br> +<br> +‘No, it will only prove my greatness,’ said Lord Rotherwood. +‘Your Marques, was China in the map, so absorbing all beholders +that the magnanimous Mohuns themselves - ’<br> +<br> +‘What nonsense, Rotherwood,’ said Jane, sharply; ‘can’t +you suppose that one may shut one’s eyes to what one does not +wish to see.’<br> +<br> +The singular inappropriateness of this answer occasioned a general roar +of laughter, and she looked in perplexity. Every one whom she +asked why they laughed replied by saying, ‘Ask Marianne Weston;’ +and at length, after much puzzling and guessing, and being more laughed +at than had ever before happened to her in her life, she was obliged +to seek an explanation from Marianne, who might well have triumphed +had she been so disposed. Jane’s character for penetration +was entirely destroyed, and the next morning she received, as a present +from Claude, an old book, which had long belonged to the nursery, entitled, +<i>A Puzzle for a Curious Girl.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</i>CHAPTER XXVII: CONCLUSION<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +‘There let Hymen oft appear<br> +In saffron robe, with taper clear,<br> +And pomp, and feast, and revelry,<br> +And mask, and antique pageantry;<br> +Such sights as useful poets dream<br> +On summer eves, by haunted stream.’<br> +<br> +On the morning of a fine day, late in September, the Beechcroft bells +were ringing merrily, and a wedding procession was entering the gate +of the churchyard.<br> +<br> +In the afternoon there was a great feast on the top of the hill, attended +by all the Mohuns, who were forced, to Lily’s great satisfaction, +to give it there, as there was no space in the grounds at the New Court. +All was wonderfully suitable to old times, inasmuch as the Baron was +actually persuaded to sit for five minutes under the yew-tree where +‘Mohun’s chair’ ought to have been, and the cricketers +were of all ranks, from the Marquis of Rotherwood to little Dick Grey.<br> +<br> +The wedding had been hurried on, and the wedding tour was shortened, +in order that Mrs. William Mohun might be installed as mistress of the +New Court before Eleanor’s departure, which took place early in +October; and shortly after Mrs. Ridley, who had come on a visit to Beechcroft, +to take leave of her brother, returned to the north, taking with her +the little Harry. He was nearly a year old, and it gave great +pain to his young aunts to part with him, now that he had endeared himself +to them by many engaging ways, but Lily felt herself too unequal to +the task of training him up to make any objection, and there were many +promises that he should not be a stranger to his grandfather’s +home.<br> +<br> +Mrs. and Miss Aylmer had been about a month settled at a superior sort +of cottage, near the New Court, with Mrs. Eden for their servant. +Lord Rotherwood had fitted out the second son, who sailed for India +with Mr. and Mrs. Hawkesworth, had sent Devereux to school, and was +lying in wait to see what could be done for the two others, and Jane +was congratulated far more than she wished, on having been the means +of discovering such an excellent governess. Jane was now a regular +inhabitant of the schoolroom, as much tied down to lessons and schoolroom +hours as her two little sisters, with the prospect of so continuing +for two years, if not for three. She made one attempt to be pert +to Miss Aylmer; but something in the manner of her governess quite baffled +her, and she was obliged to be more obedient than she had ever been. +The mischief which Emily and Lilias had done to her, by throwing off +their allegiance to Eleanor, and thus unconsciously leading her to set +her at nought, was, at her age, not to be so easily repaired; yet with +no opportunity for gossiping, and with involuntary respect for her governess, +there were hopes that she would lose the habit of her two great faults. +There certainly was an improvement in her general tone and manner, which +made Mr. Devereux hope that he might soon resume with her the preparation +for confirmation which had been cut short the year before.<br> +<br> +Phyllis and Adeline had been possessed by Reginald with a great dread +of governesses; and they were agreeably surprised in Miss Aylmer, whom +they found neither cross nor strict, and always willing to forward their +amusements, and let them go out with their papa and sisters whenever +they were asked. Phyllis, without much annoyance to one so obedient, +was trained into more civilisation, and Ada’s more serious faults +were duly watched and guarded against. The removal of Esther was +a great advantage to Ada; an older and more steady person was taken +in her place; while to the great relief of Mr. Mohun and Lilias, Rachel +Harvey took Esther to her brother’s farmhouse, where she promised +to watch and teach her, and hoped in time to make her a good servant.<br> +<br> +Of Emily there is little to say. She ate, drank, and slept, talked +agreeably, read idle books, and looked nice in the drawing-room, wasting +time, throwing away talents, weakening the powers of her mind, and laying +up a store of sad reflections for herself against the time when she +must awake from her selfish apathy.<br> +<br> +As to Lilias Mohun, the heroine of this tale, the history of the formation +of her character has been told, and all that remains to be said of her +is, that the memory of her faults and her sorrows did not fleet away +like a morning cloud, though followed by many happy and prosperous days, +and though the effects of many were repaired. Agnes’s death, +Esther’s theft, Ada’s accident, the schism in the parish, +and her own numerous mistakes, were constantly recalled, and never without +a thought of the danger of being wise above her elders, and taking mere +feeling for Christian charity.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, SCENES AND CHARACTERS ***<br> +<pre> + +******This file should be named scch10h.htm or scch10h.zip****** +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, scch11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, scch10ah.htm + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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