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diff --git a/6007-h/6007-h.htm b/6007-h/6007-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f809bf1 --- /dev/null +++ b/6007-h/6007-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14752 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Two Sides of the Shield, by Charlotte M. Yonge + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +Project Gutenberg's The Two Sides of the Shield, by Charlotte M. Yonge + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Two Sides of the Shield + +Author: Charlotte M. Yonge + +Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6007] +Last Updated: October 13, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD *** + + + + +Produced by Hanh Vu and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Charlotte M. Yonge + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PREFACE + </h2> + <p> + It is sometimes treated as an impertinence to revive the personages of one + story in another, even though it is after the example of Shakespeare, who + revived Falstaff, after his death, at the behest of Queen Elizabeth. This + precedent is, however, a true impertinence in calling on the very great to + justify the very small! + </p> + <p> + Yet many a letter in youthful handwriting has begged for further + information on the fate of the beings that had become favourites of the + school-room; and this has induced me to believe that the following out of + my own notions as to the careers of former heroes and heroines might not + be unwelcome; while I have tried to make the story stand independently for + new readers, unacquainted with the tale in which Lady Merrifield and her + brothers and sisters first appeared. + </p> + <p> + ‘Scenes and Characters’ was, however, published so long ago, that the + young readers of this generation certainly will only know it if it has had + the good fortune to have been preserved by their mothers. It was only my + second book, and in looking back at it so as to preserve consistency, I + have been astonished at its crudeness. + </p> + <p> + It will explain a few illusions to state that it is the story of the + motherless family of Mohuns of Beechcroft, with a kindly deaf father at + the head, Mr. Mohun, whose pet name was the Baron of Beechcroft, owing to + a romantic notion of his daughters made fun of by his sons. The eldest + sister, a stiff, sensible, dry woman, had just married and gone to India, + leaving her post to the next in age, Emily, who was much too indolent for + the charge. Lilies, the third in age, with her head full of the kind of + high romance and sentiment more prevalent thirty or forty years ago than + now, imagined that whereas the household had formerly been ruled by duty, + it now might be so by love. Of course, confusion dire was the consequence, + chiefly with the younger boys, the scientific, cross-grained Maurice, and + the high-spirited, turbulent Reginald, all the mischief being fomented by + Jane’s pertness and curiosity, and only mitigated by the honest simplicity + and dutifulness of eight years old Phyllis. The remedy was found at last + in the marriage of the eldest son William with Alethea Weston, already + Lilias’s favourite friend and model. + </p> + <p> + That in a youthful composition there should be a cavalier ancestry, a + family much given to dying of consumption, and a young marquess cousin is, + perhaps, inevitable. Lord Rotherwood was Mr. Mohun’s ward, and having a + dull home of his own, found his chief happiness as well as all the best + influences of his life, in the merry, highly-principled, though easy-going + life at his uncle’s, whom he revered like a father, while his eager, + somewhat shatter-brained nature often made him a butt to his cousins. All + this may account for the tone of camaraderie with which the scattered + members of the family meet again, especially around Lilias, who had, with + her cleverness and enthusiasm, always been the leading member of the + group. + </p> + <p> + It should, perhaps, also be mentioned that Lord Rotherwood’s greatest + friend was also Lilias’s favourite brother, Claude, who had become a + clergyman and died early. Aunt Adeline had been the spoilt child and + beauty of the family, the youngest of all. + </p> + <p> + C. M. YONGE. + </p> + <p> + March 8th, 1885. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <big><b>THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD</b></big> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. — WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME? </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. — THE MERRIFIELDS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. — GOOD-BYE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. — TURNED IN AMONG THEM </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. — THE FIRST WALK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. — PERSECUTION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. — G.F.S. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. — MY PERSECUTED UNCLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. — LETTERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. — THE EVENING STAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. — SECRET EXPEDITION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. — A HUNT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. — AN EGYPTIAN SPHYNX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. — A CYPHER AND A TY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. — THE BUTTERFLY’S BALL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. — THE INCONSTANCY OF + CONSTANCE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. — THE STONE MELTING. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. — MYSIE AND DOLORES. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. — A SADDER AND A WISER + AUTHORESS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. — CONFESSIONS OF A COUNTRY + MOUSE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. — IN COURT AND OUT. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. — NAY. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. — WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME? + </h2> + <p> + A London dining-room was lighted with gas, which showed a table of small + dimensions, with a vase of somewhat dirty and dilapidated grasses in the + centre, and at one end a soup tureen, from which a gentleman had helped + himself and a young girl of about thirteen, without much apparent + consciousness of what he was about, being absorbed in a pile of papers, + pamphlets, and letters, while she on her side kept a book pinned open by a + gravy spoon. The elderly maid-servant, who set the dishes before them, + handed the vegetables and changed the plates, really came as near to + feeding the pair as was possible with people above three years old. + </p> + <p> + The one was a dark, thin man, with a good deal of white in his thick beard + and scanty hair, the absence of which made the breadth of his forehead the + more remarkable. The girl would have shown an equally remarkable brow, but + that her dark hair was cut square over it, so as to take off from its + height, and give a heavy over-hanging look to the upper part of the face, + which below was tin and sallow, well-featured, but with a want of glow and + colour. The thick masses of dark hair were plaited into a very long thick + tail behind, hanging down over a black evening frock, whose white + trimmings were, like everything else about the place, rather dingy. She + was far less absorbed than her father, and raised a quick, wistful brown + eye whenever he made the least sound, or shuffled his papers. Indeed, it + seemed that she was reading in order to distract her anxiety rather than + for the sake of occupation. + </p> + <p> + It was not till after the last pieces of cheese had been offered and + refused, and the maid had retired, leaving some dull crackers and veteran + biscuits, with two decanters and a claret-jug, that he spoke. + </p> + <p> + ‘Dolores!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, father.’ + </p> + <p> + But he only cleared his throat, and looked at his letter again, while she + fixed her eager eyes upon him so earnestly that he let his fall again, and + looked once more over his letters before he spoke again. + </p> + <p> + ‘Dolores,’ and the tone was dry, as if all feeling were driven from it. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, father.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You know that I have accepted this appointment?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, father.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And that I shall be absent three years at the least?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then comes the question, how you are to be disposed of in the meantime?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Could not I go with you?’ she said, under her breath. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, my dear.’ And somehow the tone had more tenderness in it, though it + was so explicit. ‘I shall have no fixed residence, no one with whom to + leave you; and the climate is not fit for you. Your Aunt Lilias has kindly + offered to take charge of you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, father!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If you would only let me stay here with Caroline and Fraulein. I like it + so much better.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That cannot be, Dolly. I have this morning promised to let the house as + it is to Mr. Smithson.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And Caroline?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If Caroline takes my advice, she will remain here as his housekeeper, and + I think she will. Well, what is it? You do not mean that you would prefer + going to your Aunts Jane and Ada?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh no, no; only if I might go to school.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘This is nonsense, Dolores. It will be much better for you on all accounts + to be with your aunt at Silverfold. I have no fear that she and her girls + will not do their best to make you happy and good, and to give you what + you have sadly wanted, my poor child. I have always wished you could have + seen more of her.’ + </p> + <p> + There could be no doubt from the tone, in the mind of any one who knew Mr. + Maurine Mohun, that the decision was final; but perhaps Dolores would have + asked more if the door-bell had not rung at the moment and Mr. Smithson + had not been announced. Fate was closing in on her. She retired into her + book, and remained as long as she possibly could, for the sake of seeing + her father and hearing his voice; but after a time she was desired to call + Caroline, and to go to bed herself, for it was a good deal past nine + o’clock. + </p> + <p> + She had been aware, she could hardly tell how, that her father had been + offered a government appointment connected with the Fiji Islands, and then + that, glad to escape from the dreariness which had settled down on the + house since his wife’s death, about eighteen months previously, he had + accepted it, and she had speculated much on her probable fate; but had + never before been officially informed of his designs for himself or for + her. + </p> + <p> + He was a barrister, who spent all his leisure time on scientific studies, + and his wife had been equally devoted to the same pursuits. Dolores had + been her constant companion; but after the mother’s death, from an + accident on a glacier, a strange barrier of throwing himself into the ways + of a girl past the charms of infancy. It was as if they had lost their + interpreter. + </p> + <p> + The German governess, chosen by Mrs. Mohun, was very German indeed, and + greatly occupied in her own studies. When she found that the armes-liebes + Madchen shrank from being wept over and caressed on the mournful return, + she decided that the English had no feeling, and acquiesced in the routine + of lessons and expeditions to classes. She was never unkind, but she did + not try to be a companion; and old Caroline was excellent in the attention + she paid to the comforts of her master and his daughter, but had no love + of children, and would not have encouraged familiarities, even if Dolores + had not been too entirely a drawing-room child to offer them. + </p> + <p> + The morning came, and everything went on as usual; Dolores poured out the + coffee, Mr. Mohun read his Times, Fraulein ate as usual, but afterwards he + asked for a few minutes’ conversation with Fraulein. All that Dolores + heard of the result of it was ‘So,’ and then lessons went on until twelve + o’clock, when it was the custom that the girl should have an hour’s + recreation, which was, in any tolerable weather, spent in the gardens of + the far west Crescent, where she lived. There she was nearly certain of + meeting her one great friend, Maude Sefton, who was always sent out for + her airing at the same time. + </p> + <p> + They spied each other issuing from their doors, met, linked their arms, + and entered together. Maude was a tall, rosy girl, with a great yellow + bush down her back, half a year older than Dolores, and a great deal + bigger. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dearest Doll!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, it is come.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then he is really going? I heard the pater and mater talking about it + yesterday, and they said it would be an excellent thing for him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Maude! Then they did not say anything about what we hoped?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What, the mater’s offering for you to come and live with us, darling? Oh + no; and I’s afraid it is of no use to ask her, for she said of herself, + that she knew Mr. Mohun had sisters, and—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And what? Tell me, Maude. You must!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, then, you know you made me, and I think it is a shame. She said she + was glad she wasn’t one of them, for you were such a peculiar child.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear me, Maude, you needn’t mind telling me that! I’m sure I don’t want + to be like everybody else.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And are you going to one of your aunts?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, to Aunt Lilias. Oh, Maude, he would not hear a word against it, and + I know it will be so horrid! Aunts are always nasty!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Kate is very fond of her aunt,’ said Maude, who did not happen to have + any personal experiences to oppose to this sweeping assertion. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, I don’t mean proper aunts, but aunts that have orphans left to them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But you are not an orphan, darling.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I dare say I shall be. ‘Tis a horrible climate, and there are no end of + cannibals there, so that he would not take me out for anything,—and + sharks, and volcanoes, and hurricanes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t think they eat people there now.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s bad enough if they don’t! And you know those aunts begin pretty + well, while they are in fear of the father, but then they get worse.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There was Ada Morton,’ said Maude, in a tone of conviction, ‘and Anna + Ross.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, and another book, ‘Rose Turquand.’ It was a grown-up book, that I + read once—long ago,’ said Dolores, who had in her mother’s time been + allowed a pretty free range of ‘book-box.’ + </p> + <p> + “And there’s ‘Under the Shield,’ but that was a boy.” + </p> + <p> + ‘There are lots and lots,’ said Dolores. ‘They are ever so much worse than + the stepmothers! Not that there is any fear of that!’ she added quickly. + </p> + <p> + ‘But isn’t this Aunt Lilias nice? It’s a pretty name. Which is she? You + have one aunt a Lady Something, haven’t you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, it is this one, Lady Merrifield. Her husband is a general, Sir + Jasper Merrifield, and he is gone out to command in some place in India; + but she cannot stand the climate, and is living at home at a place called + Silverfold, with a whole lot of children. I think two are gone out with + their father, but there are a great many more.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t you know them at all?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, and don’t want to! I think my aunts were unkind to mother!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh!’ exclaimed Maude. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sure of it. They were horrid, stuck-up, fine ladies, and looked down + on her, though she was ever so much nicer, and cleverer, and more + intellectual than they; and she looked down on them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you sure?’ asked Maude, to whom it was as good as a story. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, indeed. She was civil, of course, because they were father’s + sisters, but I know she couldn’t bear them. If any of them came to London, + there was a calling, but all very stupid, and a dining at Lord + Rotherwood’s; but she never would, except once, when I can hardly + remember, go to stay at their slow places in the country. I’ve heard + father try to persuade her when they didn’t think I understood. You know + we always went abroad, or to the sea or something, except last year, when + we were at Beechcroft. That wasn’t so bad, for there were lots of books, + and Uncle Reginald was there, and he is jolly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Can’t you get Mr. Mohun to send you there?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I don’t think they would have me, for every body there is grown up, + and father seems to have a wish for me to be with this Aunt Lilias, + because she has a schoolroom.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wonder he should wish it, if she was unkind to Mrs. Mohun.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, she was out of the way most of the time. They have lived at Malta + and Gibraltar, and Belfast, and all sorts of places, so they will all have + regular garrison frivolous manner, and think of nothing but officers and + balls. I know she was a beauty, and wants to be one still.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Maude, whose father was a professor, looked quite appalled and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘You will be the one to infuse better things.’ She felt quite proud of the + word. + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps,’ returned Dolores; ‘they always do that in time, but not till + they’ve been awfully bullied. All the cousins are jealous, and the aunt + spites them because they are nicer and prettier than her own.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Maude, ‘but then there’s always some tremendously nice + boy-cousin, or uncle, or something, that makes up for it all. Will Sir + Jasper Merrifield’s eldest son be a Sir?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh no; he’s not a baronet, but a G.C.B., Knight Grand Cross of the Bath, + that is. Besides, I don’t care for love, and titles, and all that + nonsense, though father is first cousin to Lord Rotherwood.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And you never saw any of them?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, Aunt Lilias was at the Charing Cross Hotel with Uncle Jasper and the + two eldest daughters, Alethea and Phyllis, and some more of them, just + before they sailed; and father took me there on Sunday to luncheon; but + there were so many people, and such a talk, and such a bustle, that I + hardly knew which was which. Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada were a talking that it + made my head turn round; but I saw how affected Aunt Lilias is, and I knew + that whenever they looked at me they said ‘poor child,’ and I always hate + any one who does that! All I was afraid of then was that father would let + Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada come and live with us; but this is ever so much + worse.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You have such a lot of aunts and uncles!’ said Maude, ‘and I have not got + anything but one old uncle.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Uncles are all very well,’ said Dolores, said Maude. ‘There are the two + Miss Mohuns—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, that’s beginning at the wrong end. Aunt Ada is the youngest of them + all, and she thinks she is a young lady still, and wears little curls on + her forehead, and a tennis pinafore, and makes her waist just like a wasp. + She and Aunt Jane live together at Rockquay, because she has bad health—at + least she has whenever she likes; and Aunt Jane does all sorts of + charities and worries, and sets everybody to rights,’ said Dolly, in a + very grown-up voice, speaking partly from her own observation, and partly + repeating what she had caught from her elders. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, I know her,’ said Maude. ‘She asked me questions about all I did, + and she did bother mamma so about a maid she recommended that we are never + going to take another from her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Aunt Phyllis comes between them, I believe; but she has married a sailor + captain and gone to settle in New Zealand, and I have not seen her since I + was a very little girl. Then there’s Aunt Emily, who is a very great swell + indeed. Her husband was a canon, Lord Henry Grey; but he is dead, and she + lives at Brighton, a regular fat, comfortable down-pillow of a woman, who + isn’t bad to lunch with, only she sends one out to the Parade with her + maid, as if one was a baby. Mother used to laugh at her. And I think there + was an older one who went to India and died long ago.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have seen your two uncles. There’s Major Mohun. Oh! he is fun!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, dear old Uncle Regie! I wish he was not in Ireland. He will be so + sorry to miss seeing father off, but he can’t get leave. And there was a + clergyman who is dead, and father grieved for very much. I think he did + something to make them all nicer to mother, for it was just after that we + went to stay at Beechcroft with Uncle William. You know him, and how + mother used to call him the very model of a country squire; and I like his + wife, Aunt Alethea. Only it is very pokey and slow down there, and they + are always after flannel petticoats and soup kitchens, and all the old + fads that are exploded. I should get awfully tired of it before a year was + out, only I should not be teased with strange children, and there would be + no one to be jealous of me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Can’t you get your father to change and send you there?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not a chance. You see Aunt Lilias had offered, and they haven’t, and I + must go on with my education. I hope, though I shall have no advantages, I + shall still be able to go up for the Cambridge examination, if Aunt Lilias + has not prejudices, as I dare say she has, since of course none of her own + will be able to try.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ll come up to us for the examination, Dolly dear, and we shall do it + together, and that will be nice!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If they will let me; but I don’t expect to be allowed to do anything that + I wish. Only perhaps father may be come home by that time.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Is it three years?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes. It is a terrible time, isn’t it? However, when I’m seventeen perhaps + he will talk to me, and I can really keep house.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And then you’ll come back here?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you know, Maudie—listen—I’ve another uncle, belonging to + mother.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Dolly! I thought she had no one!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He told me he was my Uncle Alfred once when he met me in the park with + Fraulein, and gave me a note for mother. He is called Mr. Flinders.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But I thought your mother was daughter to Professor Hay?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But this is a half-brother; my grandmother was married before. Uncle + Alfrey has an immense light beard, and I think he is very poor. He came + once or twice to see mother, and they always sent me out of the room; but + I am sure she gave him money—not father’s housekeeping money, but + what she got for herself by writing. Once I heard father go out of the + house, saying, ‘Well, it’s your own to do as you please with.’ And then + mother went to her room, and I know she cried. It was the only time that + ever mother cried!’ And as Maude listened, much impressed—‘Once when + she had got eleven pounds, and we were going to have bought father such a + binocular for a secret as a birthday present, Mr. Flinders came, and she + gave him ten of it, and we could only buy just a few slides for father. + And she told me she was grieved, but she could not help it, and it would + be time for me to understand when I was older.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t think this Uncle Alfrey can be nice,’ said Maude. + </p> + <p> + ‘’Tis quite disgusting if he kisses me,’ said Dolly; ‘but you see he is + poor, and all the Mohuns are stuck up, except father, and they wanted + mother to despise him, and not help him. And you see, she stuck to him. I + don’t like him much; but you see nobody ever was like her! Oh, Maude, if + she wasn’t dead!’ + </p> + <p> + And poor Dolores cried as she had not done even at the time of the + accident, or in the terrible week that followed, or at the desolate home + coming. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. — THE MERRIFIELDS. + </h2> + <p> + The cool twilight of a long sunny summer’s day was freshening the pleasant + garden of a country house, and three people were walking slowly along a + garden path enjoying the contrast with the heat, glare, and noise of the + day. The central one was a tall, slender lady, with a light shawl hung + round her shoulders. On one side was a youth who had begun to overtop her, + on the other a girl of shorter and sturdier mould, who only reached up to + her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + ‘So she is coming!’ the girl said. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, Uncle Maurice has answered my letter very kindly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I should think he would be very much obliged,’ observed the boy. + </p> + <p> + ‘Please, mamma, do tell us all about it,’ said the girl. ‘You know I + stopped directly when you made me a sign not to go on asking questions + before the little ones. And you said you should have to make us your + friends while papa and the grown-ups are away.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, Gillian, I know you can be discreet when you are warned, and + perhaps it is best that you should know how things stand. Do you remember + anything about it, Hal?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Only a general perception that there were tempests in the higher regions, + but I think that was more from hearing Alley and Phyl talk than from my + native sagacity.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So I should suppose, since you were only six years old, at the utmost.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But Uncle Maurice always was under a cloud, wasn’t he, especially at + Beechcroft, where I never saw him or his wife in the holidays except once, + when I believe she was not at all liked, and was thought to be very proud, + and stuck-up, and pretentious.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But was she just nobody? not a lady?’ cried Gillian. ‘Aunt Emily always + called her, ‘“Poor thing.”’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps she did the same by Aunt Emily,’ returned Hal. + </p> + <p> + ‘And I am sure I have heard Aunt Ada say that she wasn’t a lady; and Aunt + Jane that she had all sorts of discreditable connections.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Come now, Gill, if you chatter so, how is mamma to get a word in + between?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m afraid we have all been hard on her, poor thing!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There now, mamma has done it, just like Aunt Emily!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Anybody would be poor who got killed in a glacier!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, but one doesn’t say poor when people are—nice.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘When I said poor,’ now put in Lady Merrifield, ‘it was not so much that I + was thinking of her death as of her having come into a family where nobody + welcomed her, and I really do not suppose it was her fault.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Moreover, she seemed to do very well without a welcome,’ added Hal. + </p> + <p> + ‘Who is interrupting now?’ cried Gillian, ‘but was she a lady?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I never saw her, you know,’ said the mother; ‘but from all I ever heard + of her, I should think she was, and cleverer and more highly educated than + any of us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Hal, ‘that was the kind of pretension that exasperated them + all at Beechcroft, especially Uncle William.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wonder if Dolores will have it!’ said Gillian. ‘I suppose she will know + much more than we do.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Probably, being the only child of such parents, and with every advantage + London can give. Maurice was always much the cleverest of us all, and with + a very strong mechanical and scientific turn, so that I now think it might + have been better to have let him follow his bent. But when we were young + there was a good deal of mistrust of anything outside the beaten tracks of + gentlemanlike professions, and my dear old father did not like what he + heard of the course of study for those lines. Things were not as they are + now. So Maurice went to Cambridge, and was fifth wrangler of his year, and + then had to go to the bar. It somehow always gave him a thwarted, injured + feeling of working against the grain, and he cultivated all these + scientific pursuits to the utmost, getting more and more into opinions and + society that distressed grandpapa and Uncle William. So he fell in with + Mr. Hay, a professor at a German university. I can hear William’s tone of + utter contempt and disgust. I believe this poor man was exceedingly + learned, and had made some remarkable discoveries, but he was very poor, + and lived in lodgings at Bonn with his daughter in the small way people + are content to do in Germany. As to his opinions, we all took it for + granted that he was a freethinker; but I can’t tell how that might be. + Maurice lodged in the same house one year when he went to learn German and + attend lectures, and he went back again every long vacation. At last came + your dear grandfather’s death. Maurice hurried away from Beechcroft + immediately after the funeral, and the next thing that was heard of him + was that he had married Miss Hay. It was no wonder that your Uncle William + was bitterly hurt and offended at the apparent disrespect to our father, + and would make no move towards Maurice.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It was when we were at the Cape, wasn’t it?’ asked Hal. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, the year Gillian was born. Well, your dear Uncle Claude went to see + Maurice in London, and found there was much excuse. Maurice had learnt + that the old professor was dying, and his daughter had nothing, and would + have had to be a governess, so that Maurice had married her in haste in + order to be able to help them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then it really was very kind and noble in him!’ exclaimed Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘And I believe every one would have felt it so; but for his unfortunately + reserved way of concealing the extent of the acquaintance, and showing + that he would not be interfered with. Claude did his best to close the + breach, but there had been something to forgive on both sides, and perhaps + SHE was prouder than the Mohuns themselves. Oh! my dears, I hope you will + never have a family quarrel among you! It is so sad to look back upon a + change after the happy years when we were all together, and were laughing + and making fun of one another!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But you were quite out of it, mamma.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So I was in a way, but I knew nothing of the justification till too late + for any advances from us to take much effect. I am four years older than + Maurice, we had never been a pair, and had never corresponded. And when I + wrote to him and to his wife, I only received stiff, formal answers. They + were abroad when we were in London on coming home, and they would not come + to see us at Belfast, so that I could never make acquaintance with her; + but I believe she was an excellent wife, suiting him admirably in every + way, and I expect to find this little daughter of theirs very well brought + up, and much forwarder than honest old Mysie.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mysie is in perfect raptures at the notion of having a cousin here + exactly of her own age,’ said Gillian. ‘What she would wish is that the + two should be so much alike as to be taken for twins. I have been trying + to remember Dolores on that dreadful Sunday at the hotel, when Uncle + Maurice came to see us, just when papa was setting off for Bombay, but it + all seems confusion. I can think of nothing but a little black, shy + figure. I remember Phyllis telling me that she thought I ought to do + something to entertain her, but I could not think of a word to say to + her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For which perhaps she was thankful,’ said her brother. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am not sure. You are all too apt, when you are shy, to console yourself + with fancying that you are doing as you would be done by. It might have + worried her then perhaps, but it would have made it easier for her to + begin among us now! I am very glad her father consents to my having her! I + do hope we may make her happy.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Happy!’ said Gillian. ‘Anybody must be happy with such a number to play + with, and with you to mother her, mamma.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am afraid she will not feel me much like her own mother, poor child! + But it will not be for want of the will. When I look back now I feel sorry + for myself for the early loss of my mother, for though we were all merry + enough as children and young people, there always seems to have been a + lack of something fostering and repressing. There was a kind of + desolateness in our life, though we did not understand it at the time. I + am thankful you have not known it, my dears.’ There was a strange rush of + tears nearly choking her voice, and she shook them away with a sort of + laugh. ‘That I should cry for that at this time of day!’ + </p> + <p> + Gillian raised her face for a kiss, and even Harry did the same. Their + hearts were very full, as the perception swept over them in one flash what + their lives would have been without mamma. It seemed like the solid earth + giving way under their feet! + </p> + <p> + ‘I am very sorry for poor Dolores,’ said Gillian presently. ‘It seems as + if we could never be kind enough to her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes. Indeed I hope we may do something towards supplying her with a real + home, wandering sprites as we have been,’ said Lady Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘What a name it is! Dolores! It is as bad as Peter Grievous! How did she + get it?’ grumbled Harry. + </p> + <p> + ‘That I cannot tell, but I think we must call her Dora or Dolly, as I + fancy your Aunt Jane told me she was called at home. I hope Wilfred will + not get hold of it and tease her about it. You must defend her from that.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If we can,’ said Gillian; ‘but Wilfred is rather an imp.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Harry. ‘I found Primrose reduced to the verge of distraction + yesterday because ‘Willie would call her Leg of Mutton.‘’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I hope you boxed his ears!’ cried Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘I did give it to him well,’ said Hal, laughing. + </p> + <p> + ‘Thank you,’ said his mother. ‘A big brother is more effective in such + cases than any one else can be. Wilfred is the only one of you all who + ever seemed to take pleasure in causing pain—and I hardly know how + to meet the propensity.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He is the only one who is not quite certain to be nice with Dolores,’ + said Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘And I really don’t quite see how to manage,’ said the mother. ‘If we show + him our anxiety to shield her, it is very likely to direct his attention + that way.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She must take her chance,’ said Hal, ‘and if she is any way rational, she + can soon put a stop to it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But, oh dear! I wish he could go to school,’ said Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘So do I, my dear,’ returned her mother; ‘but you know the doctors say we + must not risk it for another year, and I can only hope that as he grows + stronger, he may become more manly. Meantime we must be patient with him, + and Hal can help more than any one else. There—what’s that + striking?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Three quarters.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then we must make haste in, or we shall not have finished supper before + ten.’ + </p> + <p> + Lilias Mohun had married a soldier, and after many wanderings through + military stations, the health and education of a large proportion of her + family had necessitated her remaining at home with them, while her husband + held a command in India, taking out with him the two grown-up daughters + and the second son, who was on his staff. She was established in a large + house not far from a country town, for the convenience of daily governess, + tutor, and masters. She herself had grown up on the old system which made + education depend more on the family than on the governess, and she + preferred honestly the company and training of her children to going into + society in her husband’s absence. Therefore she arranged her habits with a + view to being constantly with them, and though exchanging calls, and + occasionally accepting invitations in the neighbourhood, it was an + understood thing that she went out very little. The chief exceptions were + when her eldest son, Harry, was at home from Oxford. He was devotedly fond + of her, and all the more pleased and proud to take her about with him + because it had not always been possible that his holidays in his school + life should be spent at home, and thus the privilege was doubly prized. + </p> + <p> + The two sisters above and one brother below him were in India with their + father, and Gillian was not yet out of the schoolroom, though this did not + cut her off from being her mother’s prime companion. Then followed a + schoolboy at Wellington, named Jasper, two more girls, a brace of boys, + and the five-year-old baby of the establishment—sufficient reasons + to detain Lady Merrifield in England after more than twenty years of + travels as a soldier’s wife, so that scarcely three of her children had + the same birthplace. She had been able to see very little of her English + relations, being much tied by the number of her children while all were + very young, and the expense of journeys; but she was now within easy reach + of her two unmarried sisters, and after the Cape, Gibraltar, Malta, and + Dublin, the homes of her eldest sister, and of her eldest brother did not + seem very far off. + </p> + <p> + Indeed Beechcroft, the home of her childhood, had always been the + headquarters of herself and her children on their rare visits to England. + Her elder boys had been sure of a welcome there in the holidays, and loved + it scarcely less than she did herself; and when looking for her present + abode, the whole family had stayed there for three months. Her brother + Maurice, however, she had scarcely seen, and she had been much pained at + being included in his persistent avoidance of the whole family, who felt + that he resented their displeasure at his marriage even more since his + wife’s death than he had done during her lifetime, as if he felt doubly + bound, for her sake, not to forgive and forget. At least so said some of + the family, while others hoped that his distaste to all intercourse with + them only arose from the apathy succeeding a great blow. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. — GOOD-BYE + </h2> + <p> + A passage was offered to Mr. Mohun in a Queen’s ship, and this hurried the + preparations so much that to Dolores it appeared that there was nothing + but bustle and confusion, from the day of her conversation with Maude, + until she found herself in the railway carriage returning from Plymouth + with her eldest uncle. Her father had intended to take her himself to + Silverfold; but detentions at the office in London, and then a telegram + from Plymouth, had disconcerted his plans, and when he found that his + eldest brother would come and meet him at the last, he was glad to yield + to his little daughter’s earnest desire to be with him as long as + possible. + </p> + <p> + Shy and reserved as both were, and almost incapable of finding expression + for their feelings, they still clung closely together, though the only + tears the girl was seen to shed came in church on the last Sunday evening, + blinding and choking, and she could barely restrain her sobs. Her father + would have taken her out, but she resisted, and leant against him, while + he put his arm round her. After this, whenever it was possible, she crept + up to him, and he held her close. + </p> + <p> + There had been no further discussion on her home. Lady Merrifield had + written kindly to her, as well as to her father, but that was small + consolation to one so well instructed by story books in the hypocrisy of + aunts until fathers were at a distance. And her father was so manifestly + gratified by the letter, that it would be of no use to say a word to him + now. Her fate was determined, and, as she heroically told Maude in their + last interview, she was determined to make the best of it. She would + endure the unjust aunt, and jealous, silly cousins, and be so clever, and + wise, and superior, that she would force them to admire and respect her, + and by-and-by follow her example, and be good and sensible, so that when + father came home, he would find them acknowledging that they owed + everything to her; she had saved two or three of their lives, nursed half + of them when the other half were helpless, fainting, and hysterical, and, + in short, been the Providence of the household. Then father would look at + her, and say, ‘My Mary again!’ and he would take her home, and talk to her + with the free confidence he had shown her mother, and would be comforted. + </p> + <p> + This was the hope that had carried her through the last parting, when she + went on board with her uncle and saw her father’s cabin, and looked with a + dull kind of entertainment at all the curious arrangements of the big + ship. It seemed more like sight-seeing than good-bye, when at last they + were sent on shore, and hurried up to the station just in time for the + train. + </p> + <p> + Uncle William was a very unapproachable person. He did not profess to + understand little girls. He looked at Dolores rather anxiously, afraid, + perhaps, that she was crying, and put her into the carriage, then rushed + out and brought back a handful of newspapers, giving her the Graphic, and + hiding himself in the Times. + </p> + <p> + She felt too dull and stunned to read, or to look at the pictures, though + she held the paper in her hands, and she gazed out dreamily at the Ton’s + and rocks and woody ravines of Dartmoor as they flew past her, the leaves + and ferns all golden brown with autumn colouring. She had had little sleep + that night; her little legs had all the morning been keeping up with the + two men’s hasty steps, and though an excellent meal had been set before + her in the ship, she had not been able to swallow much, and she was a good + deal worn out. So when at last they reached Exeter, and finding there + would be two hours to wait, her uncle asked whether she would come down + into the town with him and see the Cathedral, she much preferred to stay + where she was. He put her under the care of the woman in the waiting-room, + who gave her some tea, took off her hat, and made her lie down on a couch, + where she slept quite sound for more than an hour, until she was roused by + some ladies coming in with a crying baby. + </p> + <p> + It was, she thought, nearly time to go on, for the gas was being lighted. + She put on her hat, and went out to look for her uncle on the platform, so + as to get into a better light to see the face of her mother’s little Swiss + watch, which her father had just made over to her. She had just made out + that there was not more than a quarter of an hour to spare, when she heard + an exclamation. + </p> + <p> + ‘By Jove! if that ain’t Mary’s little girl!’ and, looking up she saw Mr. + Flinders’ huge, bushy, light-coloured beard. ‘Is your father here?’ he + asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘No; he sailed this afternoon.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Always my luck! Ticket wasted! Sailed—really?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes. We did not come back till the ship was out of harbour.’ + </p> + <p> + He muttered some exclamation, and asked— + </p> + <p> + ‘Whom are you with?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Uncle William. Mr. Mohun—my eldest uncle. He will be back + directly.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flinders whistled a note of discontent. + </p> + <p> + ‘Going to rusticate with him, poor little mite?’ he asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘No. I’m to live with my Aunt Lilias—Lady Merrifield.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Where?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘At Silverfold Grange, near Silverfold.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, you’ll get among the swells. They’ll make you cut all your poor + mother’s connections. So there’s an end of it. She was a good creature—she + was!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll never forget any one that belongs to her,’ said Dolores. ‘Oh, + there’s Uncle William!’ as on the top of the stairs she spied the welcome + sight of his grey locks and burly figure. Before he had descended, her + other uncle had vanished, and she fancied she had heard something about, + ‘Mum about our meeting. Ta ta!’ + </p> + <p> + Uncle William’s eyes being less sharp than hers, he was on his way to the + waiting-room before she joined him, and as he had not seen her encounter, + she would not tell him. They were settled in the carriage again, and she + was tolerably refreshed. Mr. Mohun fell asleep, and she, after reading by + the lamp-light as long as she could find anything to read, gazed at the + odd reflections in the windows till she, too, nodded and dozed, half + waking at every station. + </p> + <p> + At last, she was aware of a stop in earnest, voices, and being called. + There was her uncle saying, ‘Well, Hal, here we are!’ and she was lifted + out and set on the platform, with gas all round. Her uncle was saying, ‘We + didn’t get away in time for the express,’ and a young man was answering, + ‘We’d better put Dolly into the waggonette at once. Then I’ll see to the + luggage.’ + </p> + <p> + Very like a parcel, so stiff were her legs, she was bundled into the dark + cavern of a closed waggonette, and, after a little lumbering, her uncle + and the young man got in after her, saying something about eleven o’clock. + </p> + <p> + She was more awake now, and knew that they were driving through lighted + streets, and then, after an interval, turned into darkness, upon gravel, + and stopped at last before a door full of light, with figures standing up + dark in it. She heard a ‘Well, William!’ ‘Well Lily, here we are at last!’ + Then there were arms embracing her, and a kiss on each cheek, as a soft + voice said, ‘My poor little girl! They wanted to sit up for you, but it + was too late, and I dare say you had rather be quiet.’ + </p> + <p> + She was led into a lamp-lit room, which dazzled her. It was spread with + food, but she was too much tired to eat, and her aunt saw how it was, and + telling Harry to take care of his uncle, she took the hand—though it + did not close on hers—and, climbing up what seemed to Dolores an + endless number of stairs, she said— + </p> + <p> + ‘You are up high, my dear; but I thought you would like a room to + yourself.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poked away in an attic,’ was Dolores’s dreamy thought; while her aunt + added, to a tall, thin woman, who came out with a lamp in her hand— + </p> + <p> + ‘She is so tired that she had better go to bed directly, Mrs. Halfpenny. + You will make her comfortable, and don’t let her be disturbed in the + morning till she has had her sleep out.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolly found herself undressed, without many words, till it came to—‘Your + prayers, Miss Dora. I am sure you’ve need not to miss them.’ + </p> + <p> + She did not like to be told, besides, poor child, prayers were not much + more than a form to her. She did not contest the point, but knelt down and + muttered something, then laid her weary head on the pillow, was tucked up + by Mrs. Halfpenny, and left in the dark. It was a dreary half sleep into + which she fell. The noise of the train seemed to be still in her ears, and + at the same time she was always being driven up—up—up endless + stairs, by tall, cruel aunts; or they were shutting her up to do all their + children’s work, and keeping away father’s letters from her. Then she + awoke and told herself it was a dream, but she missed the noises of the + street, and the patch of light on the wall from the gas lamps, and + recollected that father was gone, and she was really in the power of one + of these cruel aunts; and she felt like screaming, only then she might + have been heard; and a great horrid clock went on making a noise like a + church bell, and striking so many odd quarters that there was no guessing + when morning was coming. And after all, why should she wish it to come? + Oh, if she could but sleep the three years while father was away! + </p> + <p> + At last, however, she fell into a really calm sleep, and when she awoke, + the room was full of light, but her watch had stopped; she had been too + much tired to remember to wind it; and she lay a little while hearing + sounds that made it clear that the world was astir, and she could see that + preparations had been made for her getting up. + </p> + <p> + ‘They shan’t begin by scolding me for being late,’ she thought, and she + began her toilette. + </p> + <p> + Just as she came to her hair, the old nurse knocked and asked whether she + wanted help. + </p> + <p> + ‘Thank you, I’ve been used to dress myself,’ said Dolores, rather proudly. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll help you now, missy, for prayers are over, and they are all gone to + breakfast, only my lady said you were not to be disturbed, and Miss Mysie + will be up presently again to bring you down.’ + </p> + <p> + She spoke low, and in an accent that Dolores afterwards learnt was Scotch; + and she was a tall, thin, bony woman, with sandy hair, who looked as if + she had never been young. She brushed and plaited the dark hair in a + manner that seemed to the owner more wearisome and less tender than + Caroline’s fashion; and did not talk more than to inquire into the fashion + of wearing it, and to say that Miss Mohun’s boxes had been sent from + London, demanding the keys that they might be unpacked. + </p> + <p> + ‘I can do that myself,’ said Dolores, who did not like any stranger to + meddle with her things. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ye could tak them oot, nae doubt, but I must sort them. It’s my lady’s + orders,’ said Mrs. Halfpenny, with all the determination of the sergeant, + her husband, and Dolores, with a sense of despair, and a sort of + expectation that she should be deprived of all her treasures on one plea + or another, gave up the keys. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Halfpenny then observed that the frock which had been worn for the + last two days on the railway, and evening and morning, needed a better + brushing and setting to rights than she had had time to give it. She had + better take out another. Which box were her frocks in? + </p> + <p> + Dolores expected her heartless relations to insist on her leaving off her + mourning, and she knew she ought to struggle and shed tears over it; but, + to tell the truth, she was a good deal tired of her hot and fusty black; + and when she had followed Mrs. Halfpenny into a passage where the boxes + stood uncorded; and the first dress that came to light was a pretty + fresh-looking holland that had been sent home just before the accident, + she exclaimed— + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, let me put that on.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Bless me, miss, it has blue braid, and you in mourning for your poor + mamma!’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores stood abashed, but a grey alpaca, which she had always much + disliked, came out next, and Mrs. Halfpenny decided that with her black + ribbons that would do, though it turned out to be rather shockingly short, + and to show a great display of black legs; but as the box containing the + clothes in present wear had not come to hand, this must stand for the + present—and besides, a voice was heard, saying, ‘Is Dora ready?’ and + a young person darted up, put her arms round her neck, and kissed her + before she knew what she was about. ‘Mamma said I should come because I am + just your age, thirteen and a half,’ she said. ‘I’m Mysie, though my + proper name is Maria Millicent.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores looked her over. She was a good deal taller than herself, and had + rich-looking shining brown hair, dark brown eyes full of merriment, and a + bright rosy colour, and she danced on her active feet as if she were full + of perpetual life. ‘All happy and not caring,’ thought Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now don’t fash Miss Mohun with your tricks. She has stood like a lamb,’ + said Mrs. Halfpenny reprovingly. ‘There, we’ll not keep her to find an + apron.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t wear pinafores,’ said Mysie, ‘but I don’t mind pretty aprons like + this. ‘Why, my sisters had them for tennis, before they went out to India. + Come along, Dora,’ grasping her hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘My name isn’t Dora,’ said the new-comer, as they went down the passage. + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said Mysie, in a low voice; ‘but mamma told Gill—that’s + Gillian, and me, that we had better not tell anybody, because if the boys + heard they might tease you so about it; for Wilfred is a tease, and + there’s no stopping him when mamma isn’t there. So she said she would call + you Dora, or Dolly, whichever you liked, and you are not a bit like a + Dolly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They always called me Dolly,’ said Dolores; ‘and if I am not to have my + name, I like that best; but I had rather have my proper name.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, very well,’ said Mysie; ‘it is more out of the way, only it is very + long.’ + </p> + <p> + By this time they had descended a long narrow flight of uncarpeted stairs, + ‘the back ones,’ as Mysie explained, and had reached a slippery oak hall + with high-backed chairs, and all the odds and ends of a family-garden + hats, waterproofs, galoshes, bats, rackets, umbrellas, etc., ranged round, + and a great white cockatoo upon a stand, who observed—‘Mysie, Cockie + wants his breakfast,’ as they went by towards the door, whence proceeded a + hubbub of voices and a clatter of knives and jingle of teaspoons and cups, + a room that as Mysie threw open the door seemed a blaze of sunshine, + pouring in at the large window, and reflected in the glass and silver. + Yes, and in the bright eyes and glossy hair of the party who sat round the + breakfast-table, further brightened by the fire, pleasant in the early + autumn. + </p> + <p> + Eyes, as it seemed to Dolores, eyes without number were levelled on her, + as Mysie led her in, saying— + </p> + <p> + ‘Here’s a place by mamma; she kept it for you, between her and Uncle + William.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, don’t all jump up at once and rush at her,’ said Lady Merrifield. + ‘Give her a little time. Here, my dear;’ and she held out her hand and + drew in the stranger to her, kissing her kindly, and placing her in a + chair close to herself, as she presided over the teacups—not at the + end, but at the middle of the table—while all that could be desired + to eat and drink found its way at once to Dolores, who had arrived at + being hungry now, and was glad to have the employment for hands and eyes, + instead of feeling herself gazed at. She was not so much occupied, + however, as not to perceive that Uncle William’s voice had a free, merry + ring in it, such as she had never heard in his visits to her father, and + that there was a great deal of fun and laughter going on over the thin + sheets of an Indian letter, which Aunt Lily was reading aloud. + </p> + <p> + No one seemed to be attending to anything else, when Dolores ventured to + cast a glance around and endeavour to count heads as she sat between her + uncle and aunt. Two boys and a girl were opposite. Harry, who had come to + meet them last night, was at one end of the table, a tall girl, but still + a schoolroom girl, was at the other, and Mysie had been lost sights of on + her own side of the table; also there was a very tiny girl on a high chair + on the other side of her mamma. ‘Seven,’ thought Dolores with sinking + heart. ‘Eight oppressors!’ + </p> + <p> + They were mostly brown-eyed, well-grown creatures. One boy, at the further + corner, had a cast in his eye, and was thin and wizen-looking, and when he + saw her eyes on him, he made up an ugly face, which he got rid of like a + flash of lightning before any one else could see it, but her heart sank + all the more for it. He must be Wilfred, the teaser. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lilias was a tall, slender woman, dressed in some kind of soft grey, + with a little carnation colour at her throat, and a pretty lace cap on her + still rich, abundant, dark brown hair, where diligent search could only + detect a very few white threads. Her complexion was always of a soft, + paly, brunette tint, and though her cheeks showed signs that she was not + young, her dark, soft, long-lashed eyes and sweet-looking lips made her + face full of life and freshness; and the figure and long slender hands had + the kind of grace that some people call willowy, but which is perhaps more + like the general air of a young birch tree, or, as Hal had once said, + ‘Early pointed architecture reminded him of his mother.’ + </p> + <p> + The little one was getting restless, and two of the boys began filliping + crumbs at one another. + </p> + <p> + ‘Wilfred! Fergus!’ said the mother quite low and gently; but they stopped + directly. ‘We will say grace,’ she said, lifting the little one down. + ‘Now, Primrose.’ + </p> + <p> + Every one stood up, to Dolores’ surprise, a pair of little fat hands were + put together, a little clear voice said a few words of thanksgiving + perfectly pronounced. + </p> + <p> + ‘You may go, if you like,’ she said. ‘Hal, take care of Prim.’ + </p> + <p> + Up jumped the two boys and a sprite of a girl, who took the hand of little + Primrose, a beautiful little maiden with rich chestnut wavy curls. They + all paused at the door, the boys making a salute, the girls a little + curtsey. Primrose’s was as pretty a little ‘bob’ as ever was seen. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am glad you keep that custom up,’ said Mr. Mohun. + </p> + <p> + ‘Jasper had been brought up to it, and wished it to be the habit among us; + and I find it a great protection against bouncing and rudeness.’ + </p> + <p> + But Dolly’s blood boiled at such stupid, antiquated, military nonsense. + She would never give in to it, if they made her live on bread and water! + </p> + <p> + The uncle and aunt, who perhaps had lengthened out their breakfast from + politeness to her, had finished when she had, and the pony-chaise came to + the door, in which Hal was to drive Uncle William to the station. + Everybody flocked to the door to bid him good-bye, and then Aunt Lilias + stooped down to ask Dolores if she were quite rested and felt quite well, + Mysie standing anxiously by as if she felt her a great charge. + </p> + <p> + ‘Quite well, quite rested, thank you,’ the girl answered in her stiff, shy + way. + </p> + <p> + ‘There is half an hour to spare before Miss Vincent comes. The children + generally spend it in feeding the creatures. I am not going to give a + holiday, because I think people get more pleasantly acquainted over + something, than over nothing, to do, but you need not begin lessons to-day + if you had rather settle your thoughts and write your letters.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I had rather begin at once,’ said Dolores, who thought she would now + establish her pre-eminence at the cost of any amount of jealousy. + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well, then, when you hear the gong—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma,’ said Mysie solemnly, after long waiting, ‘she says she had rather + not be called out of her name.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought you had been called Dolly, my dear.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, at home,’ with a strong emphasis. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, my dear, I dare say it may be better to keep to your proper name at + once. We won’t take liberties with it, till you feel as if you could call + this home,’ said Lady Merrifield, looking as if she would have kissed her + niece on the slightest encouragement, but no one ever looked less kissable + than Dolores Mohun at that moment. Was it not cruel and hypocritical to + talk of this tiresome multitude as ever making home? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. — TURNED IN AMONG THEM + </h2> + <p> + ‘Do you like pets?’ asked Mysie eagerly, as her mother left the two girls + together. + </p> + <p> + ‘I never had any,’ said Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh how dreadful! Why, old Cockie, and Aga and Begum, the two oldest + pussies, have been everywhere with us. And, besides, there’s Basto, the + big Pyrenean dog, and,—oh, here comes little Quiz, mamma’s little + Maltese—Quiz, Quiz.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores started, she did not like either dogs or cats; and the little + spun-glass looking dog smelt about her. + </p> + <p> + ‘I must go and feed my guinea-pig,’ said Mysie; ‘won’t you come? Here are + some over shoes and Poncho.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores was afraid Poncho was another beast, but it turned out to be a + sort of cape, and she discovered that all the cloaks and most of the + sticks had names of their own. She was afraid to be left standing on the + steps alone lest any amount of animals or boys should fall on her there, + so she consented to accompany Mysie, who shuffled along in a pair of + overshoes vastly too big for her, since she had put her cousin into the + well-fitting ones. She chattered all the way. + </p> + <p> + ‘We do like this place so. It is the nicest we have ever been in. All that + is wanting is that papa will buy it, and then we shall never go away + again.’ + </p> + <p> + It was a pleasant place, though not grand; a homely-looking, roomy, + red-brick house, covered with creepers—the Virginian one with its + leaves just beginning to be painted. There was a bright sunny garden full + of flowers in front, and then a paddock, with cows belonging to a farmer, + Mysie said. It was her ambition to have them of their own ‘when papa came + home,’ when all good things were to happen. Behind there were large + stable-yards and offices, too large for Lady Merrifield’s one horse and + one pony, and thus available for the children’s menagerie of rabbits, + guinea-pigs, magpie, and the like. On the way Mysie was only too happy to + explain the family as she called it, when she had recovered from her + astonishment that Dolores, always living in England, could not ‘count up + her cousins.’ ‘Why they always had been shown their photographs on a + Sunday evening after the Bible pictures, and even little Primrose knew all + the likeness, even of those she had never seen.’ + </p> + <p> + The catalogue of names and ages followed. + </p> + <p> + Dolores heard it with a feeling of bewilderment, and a sense that one + Maude was worth all the eight put together with whom she was called on to + be familiar. She found herself standing in a court, rather grass-grown, + where Gillian, with little Primrose by her side, was flinging peas to a + number of pigeons, grey, white, and brown, who fluttered round her. + Valetta and Fergus were on the granary steps, throwing meal and sop mixed + together to a host of cackling, struggling fowls, who tried to leap over + each other’s backs. Wilfred seemed busy at some hutches where some rabbits + twitched their noses at cabbage leaves. Mysie proceeded to minister to + some black and rust-coloured guinea-pigs, which Dolores thought very ugly, + uninteresting, and odorous. + </p> + <p> + Then there were dogs jumping about everywhere, and cats and kittens + parading before people’s feet, so that Dolores felt as if she had been + turned into a den of wild beasts, and resolved against ever again + venturing into the court at ‘feeding-time.’ A big bell gathered all the + children up together into a race to the house. There was another scurry to + change shoes and wash hands, and then Mysie conducted her cousin into a + large, cheerful, wainscoted room on the ground floor, with deep windows, + and numerous little, solid-looking deal tables. There were Lady Merrifield + and a young lady in spectacles, to whom Dolores was presented as ‘your new + pupil,’ and every one sat down at one of the little tables, on which there + were Bibles and Prayer-books. + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield took the two youngest on each side of her. Dolores found a + table ready for her with the books. A passage in the New Testament was + given out and read verse by verse, to the end of the subject, which was + the Parable of the Tares, and then Lady Merrifield gave a short lesson on + it, asking questions, and causing references to be found, according to a + book of notes, she had ready at hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘Just like a charity school,’ thought Dolores, when she was able to glance + at the time-table, and saw that two days in the week there was Old + Testament, two days New, one day Catechism, one day Prayer-book. Only half + an hour was thus appropriated, but to her mind it was an old-fashioned + waste of time, and very tiresome. + </p> + <p> + Then came a ring at the door-bell. ‘Mr. Poulter,’ she heard, and to her + amazement, she found that Gillian and Mysie, as well as their brothers, + had Latin lessons in the dining-room with the curate. The two girls and + Fergus only went to him every other day, Wilfred every day, as Gillian was + learning Greek and mathematics. What was Dolores to do? + </p> + <p> + ‘Have you done any Latin, my dear?’ asked her aunt. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not yet. Father wished to be quite convinced that the professor was a + good scholar,’ said Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well. We will wait a little,’ said Aunt Lilias, and Dolores + indignantly thought that she was amused. + </p> + <p> + Mysie was sent off to her music in the drawing-room, whither her mother + followed with Primrose’s little lessons, leaving the schoolroom piano to + Valetta, and Fergus to write copies and to do sums, while Miss Vincent + examined the new-comer, which she did by giving her some questions to + answer in writing, and some French and German to translate and parse also + in writing. + </p> + <p> + The music was inconvenient to a girl who had always prepared her work + alone. She could do the language work easily, but the questions teased + her. They seemed to her of no use, and quite out of her beat. No dates, + none of the subject she had specially got up. Why, if Miss Vincent did not + know that people were not to be expected to answer stupid questions about + history quite out of their own line, that was her fault. + </p> + <p> + She did what she knew, and then sat biting the top of her pen till her + aunt came back, and there was a change in occupations all round, resulting + in her having to read French aloud, which she knew she did well; but it + was provoking to find that Gillian read quite as well, and knew a word at + which she had made a shot, and a wrong one. + </p> + <p> + She heard the observation pass between her aunt and the governess, + ‘Languages fair, but she seems to have very little general information.’ + </p> + <p> + General information, indeed! Just as if she who had lived in London, gone + to lectures, and travelled on the Continent, must not know more than these + children cast up and down in a soldier’s life; and as if her Fraulein, + with all her diplomas, must not be far superior to a mere little daily + governess, and a mother! It was all for the sake of depreciating her. + </p> + <p> + At twelve o’clock, to her further indignation, she found there was to be + an hour of reading aloud and of needlework-actual plain needlework. The + three girls were making under-garments for themselves; and on Dolores + proving to have no work of any sort, her aunt sent Gillian to the drawer, + and produced a child’s pinafore, which she was desired to hem. Each, + however, had a quarter of an hour’s reading aloud of history to do in + turn, all from one big book, a history of Rome, and there was a map hung + up over the black board, where they were in turn to point to the places + mentioned. Before Gillian began reading, the date, and something about the + former lesson was required to be told by the children, and it came quite + readily, Valetta especially declaring that she did love Pyrrhus, which the + others seemed to think very bad taste. + </p> + <p> + Dolores knew nothing about ancient history, and thought it foolish to + study anything that did not tell in a Cambridge examination; but she + supposed they knew no better down there; and when it came to her turn to + read, she mangled the names so, that Val burst out laughing when she spoke + of A-pious-Claudius. Lady Merrifield hushed this at once, and the girl + read in a bewildered manner, and as one affronted. She saw he aunt looking + at her piece of hemming, which, to say the truth, would not have done + credit to Primrose, and the recollection came across her of all the + oppressed orphans who had been made household drudges, so that her reading + did not become more intelligible. As the clock struck one, a warning gong + was heard; everybody jumped up, the work was folded away, and with the + obeisance at the door, Gillian and Val ran away. + </p> + <p> + Mysie stayed a little longer, it being her turn to tidy the room; and Lady + Merrifield said to Dolores— + </p> + <p> + ‘I must teach you how to hold your needle tomorrow, my dear.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I hate work,’ responded Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Val does not like it,’ said her aunt; ‘nor indeed did I at your age; but + one cannot be an independent woman without being able to take care of + one’s own clothes, so I resolved that these children should learn better + than I did. Do you like a take a run with Mysie before dinner? Or there is + the amusing shelf. Books may be taken out after one o’clock, and they must + be put back at eight, or they are confiscated for the ensuing day,’ she + added, pointing to a paper below where this sentence was written. + </p> + <p> + Dolores was still rather tired, and more inclined to make friends with the + books than with the cousins. There were fewer than she expected, and + nothing like so many absolute stories as she was used to reading with + Maude Sefton. + </p> + <p> + ‘Those are such grown-up books,’ she said to Mysie, who came to assist her + choice, and pointed to the upper shelves. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, but grown-up books are nicest!’ returned Mysie; ‘at least, when they + don’t begin being stupid and marrying too soon. They must do it at last to + get out of the story, and it’s nicer than dying, but they can have lots of + nice adventures first. But here are the ‘Feats on the Fiords’ and the + ‘Crofton Boys’ and ‘Water Babies,’ and all the volumes of ‘Aunt Judy,’ if + you like the younger sort. Or the dear, dear ‘Thorn Fortress;’ that’s good + for young and old.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Haven’t you any books of your own?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes; this ‘Thorn Fortress’ is Val’s, and ‘A York and a Lancaster Rose’ + is mine, but whenever any one gives us a book, if it is not a weeny little + gem like Gill’s ‘Christian Year,’ or my ‘Little Pillow,’ or Val’s + ‘Children in the Wood,’ we bring it to mother, and if it is nice, we keep + it here, for every one to read. If it is just rather silly, and stupid, we + may read it once, and then she keeps it; and if it is very silly indeed, + she puts it out of the way.’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie said it as if it had been killing an animal. + </p> + <p> + ‘Have you got many books?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes; but I don’t mean to have them knocked about by all the boys, nor put + out of the way neither.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma said we were to be all like sisters,’ said Mysie, with rather a + craving for the new books; but Dolores tossed up her head and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘We can’t be. It’s nonsense to say so.’ + </p> + <p> + To her surprise, Mysie turned round to Lady Merrifield, who was looking at + some exercises that Miss Vincent had laid before her. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma,’ she said, ‘is it fair that Dolores should read our books, if she + won’t give you up hers to look over, and be like ours?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mysie,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘you can’t expect Dolores to like all our + home plans till she is used to them. No, my dear, you need not be afraid; + you shall keep your books in your own room, and nobody shall meddle with + them. I am sure your cousins would not wish to be so unkind as to deprive + you of the use of theirs.’ + </p> + <p> + By the time Dolores had made up her mind to take ‘Tom Brown,’ it was time + for the general flight to prepare for dinner, and she found her room made + to look very pleasant, and almost homelike, for her books and little + knickknacks had been put out, not quite as she preferred, but still so as + to make the place seem like her own. She was pleased enough to be quite + gracious to Mysie and Val who came to visit her, and to offer to let them + read any of her books; when they both thanked her and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘If mamma lets us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, then you won’t have them,’ said Dolores; ‘I’m not going to let her + have my books to take away.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You don’t think she would take them away, when she said she wouldn’t?’ + said Mysie, hotly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, what would she do if she didn’t happen to approve of them?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Only tell us not to read them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And wouldn’t you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, Dolores!’ in such a tone as made her ashamed of her question; and + she said, ‘Well, father never makes any fuss about what I read. He has + other things to think of.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How do you get books, then?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I buy them. And Maude Sefton, she’s my great friend, has lots given to + her, but nobody bothers about reading them. They aren’t grown-up books, + you know.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How stupid,’ said Val. ‘You had better read the ‘Talisman,’ and then + you’ll see how nice a grown-up book is.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The ‘Talisman!’ Why, Maude Sefton’s brother had to get it up for his + holiday task, and he said it was all rot and bosh.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What a horridly stupid boy he must be,’ returned Mysie. ‘Why, I remember + when Jasper once had the ‘Talisman’ to do, and the big ones were so + delighted. Mamma read it out, and I was just old enough to listen. I + remembered all about Sir Kenneth and Roswal.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Tom Sefton’s not stupid!’ said Dolores, in wrath; ‘but—but the book + is stupid and out of date! I heard father and the professor say it was + gone by.’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie and Valetta looked perfectly astounded, and Dolores pursued her + advantage. + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course it is all very well for you that have never lived in London, + nor had any advantages.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But we have advantages!’ cried Val. + </p> + <p> + ‘You don’t know what advantages are,’ said Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s the gong,’ cried Mysie, and down they all plunged into the + dining-room, where the family were again collected, with Hal at one end + and his mother at the other. + </p> + <p> + Dolores was amazed when, at the first pause, after every one was help, + Valetta’s voice arose. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma, what are advantages?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t you know, Val?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Dolores says we haven’t any. And I said we have. And she says I don’t + know what advantages are.’ + </p> + <p> + Hal and Gillian were both laughing with all their might. Their mother kept + her countenance, and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose every one has advantages of some sort, and perhaps without + knowing them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m sure I know,’ cried Fergus. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, what are they?’ asked Harry. + </p> + <p> + ‘Having mamma!’ cried the little boy. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hear, hear! That’s right, Fergy man! Couldn’t be better!’ cried Harry, + and there was a general acclamation, which inspired gentle Mysie with the + fear that her motherless cousin might feel the contrast, and, though + against rules, she whispered— + </p> + <p> + ‘She will make you like one of us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ returned Dolores, a little contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + ‘What did you mean?’ said Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, you’ve no classes, nor lectures, nor master, and only just a mere + daily governess.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores did not mean this to be heard beyond her neighbour, but Mysie + demanded— + </p> + <p> + ‘What, do you want to be doing lessons all day long?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, but good governesses never are daily!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s a pity,’ said Gillian, turning round on her. ‘Perhaps you don’t + know that Miss Vincent has a First Class Cambridge Certificate in + everything, and is daily, because she likes to live with her mother.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I think,’ added Lady Merrifield, with a smile, ‘that Dolores has been in + the way of seeing more clever people, and getting superior teaching of + some kind, but we will do the best we can for her, and try not to let her + miss many advantages.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores felt a little abashed, and decidedly angry at being put in the + wrong. + </p> + <p> + The elders kindly turned away the general attention from her. There was a + great deal of merry family fun going on, which was quite like a new + language to her. Fergus and Primrose wanted to go out in search of + blackberries. Gillian undertook to drive them in the cart, but as the + donkey had once or twice refused to cross a little stream of water that + traversed the road, the brothers foretold that she would ignominiously + come back again. + </p> + <p> + ‘Gill and water are perilous!’ observed Hal. + </p> + <p> + ‘Jack’s not here,’ said Gillian; ‘besides, it is down, not up the hill, + and I’m sure I don’t want to draw a pail of water.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No—Sancho will do that.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The gong will sound and sound, buzz and roar,’ said Wilfred. ‘No Gill! no + little ones! We shall send out and find them stuck fast in the lane, + Sancho with his feet spread out wide, Gill with three or four sticks lying + broken on the road round her, the kids reduced to eating blackberries like + the children in the wood.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t Fred,’ said Gillian. ‘You’ll frighten them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Little donkeys!’ said Wilfred. + </p> + <p> + ‘If they were, we shouldn’t want Sancho,’ said Val. + </p> + <p> + It was not a very sublime bit of wit, but there was a great laugh at it + all round the table. Val and Fergus declared they would go too, till they + heard that Nurse Halfpenny said she would not let the little ones go out + without her to tear their clothes to pieces. + </p> + <p> + Every one unanimously declared that would be no fun at all, and turned to + mamma to beg her to forbid nurse to come out and spoil everything. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s just her view,’ said mamma, laughing; ‘she thinks you spoil + everything.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, that’s clothes! Spoiling fun is worse.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But were you really going with the old Halfpenny, Gill?’ said Mysie, + turning to her. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Gillian. ‘You know I can manage her pretty well when it is + only the little ones and they wouldn’t have any pleasure otherwise.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh come, Gill,’ intreated Fergus, ‘or nurse will make us sit in the + donkey-cart all the time while Lois picks the blackberries!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma, do tell her not to come,’ intreated Valetta, and more of them + joined in with her. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, my dears, I don’t like to vex her when she thinks she is doing her + duty.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She wouldn’t come if you did, mamma,’ and there was a general outcry of + intreaty that mamma would come with them, and defend them from Mrs. + Halfpenny, as Fergus, who was rather a formal little fellow, expressed it, + and mamma, after a little consideration, consented to drive the + pony-carriage in that direction, and to announce to Nurse Halfpenny that + she herself would take charge of the children. Whereupon there was a whoop + and a war-dance of jubilee, quite overwhelming to Dolores, who could not + but privately ask Mysie if Nurse Halfpenny was so very cross. + </p> + <p> + ‘Awfully,’ said Mysie, and Wilfred added— + </p> + <p> + ‘As savage as a bear with a sore head.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Like Mrs. Crabtree?’ asked Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Exactly. Jasper called her so when he wanted to lash her up, till at lash + she got hold of his ‘Holiday House’ and threw it into the sea, and it was + in Malta and we couldn’t get another,’ said Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘And haven’t you one?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, Gill and I save for it; but mamma only let us have it on condition + we made a solemn promise never to tease nurse about it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And does she go at you with that dreadful thing—what’s it name—the + tawse?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! you’ll soon know,’ said Wilfred. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no; nonsense, Fred,’ said Mysie, as Dolores’ face worked with + consternation. ‘She never hits us, not if we are ever so tiresome. Papa + and mamma would not let her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But why do they let her be so dreadful? Maude’s nurse used to be horrid + and slap her, and when her mother found it out the woman was sent away + directly.’ + </p> + <p> + Nurse Halfpenny isn’t that sort,’ said Mysie. ‘Her husband was papa’s + colour-sergeant, and he got a sun-stroke and died, and then she came when + Gillian was just born, and so weak and tiny that she would never have + lived if nurse hadn’t watched her day and night, and so Gillian’s her + favourite, except the youngest, and she is ever so good, you know. I’ve + heard the ladies, when we were with the dear old 111th, telling mamma how + they envied her her trustworthy treasure.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m sure they might have had her at half-price,’ said Wilfred. ‘She’s be + dear at a farthing!’ + </p> + <p> + At that moment Mrs. Halfpenny’s voice was heard demanding if it were + really her ladyship’s pleasure to go out, fatiguing herself to the very + death with all the children rampaging about her and tearing themselves to + pieces, if not poisoning themselves with all sorts of nasty berries. + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed I’ll take care of them and bring them back safe to you,’ responded + her ladyship, very much in the tone of one of her own children making + promises. ‘Put them on their brown hollands and they can’t come to much + harm.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, if it’s your wish, ma’am, my leddy; what must be, must, but I know + how it will be—you’ll come back tired out, fit to drop, and Miss Val + and Miss Primrose won’t have a rag fit to be seen on them. But if it’s + your will, what must be must, for you’re no better than a bairn yourself, + general’s lady though you be, and G.C.B.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, nurse, you’ll be G.C.B.—Grand Commander of the Bath—when + we come home,’ called out Hall, who was leaning on the banister at the + bottom, and there was a general laugh, during which Dolly tardily climbed + the stairs, so tardily that her aunt, meeting her, asked whether she was + still tired, and if she would rather have the afternoon to arrange her + room. + </p> + <p> + She said ‘yes,’ but not ‘thank you,’ and went on, relieved that Mysie did + not offer to stay and help her, and yet rather offended at being left + alone, while all the others went their own way. She heard them pattering + and clattering, shouting and calling up and down the passages, and then + came a great silence, while they could be seen going down the drive, some + on foot, some in the pony-chaise or donkey-cart. + </p> + <p> + Her things had all been unpacked and put in order, and her room had a very + cheerful window. It was prettily furnished with fresh pink and white + dimity, and choice-looking earthenware, but to London eyes like those of + Dolores it seemed very old-fashioned and what she called ‘poked up.’ The + paper was ugly, the chimney-piece was a narrow, painting thing, of the + same dull, stone-colour as the door and the window-frame. And then the + clear air, the perfect stillness, the absence of anything moving in the + view from the window gave the citybred child a sense of dreadful + loneliness and dreariness as she sat on the side of her bed, with one foot + under her, gazing dolefully round her, and in he head composing her own + memoirs. + </p> + <p> + ‘Fully occupied with their own plans and amusements, the lonely orphan was + left in solitude. Her aunt knew not how her heart ached after the home she + had left, but the machine of the family went its own way and trod her + under its wheels.’ + </p> + <p> + This was such a fine sentence that it was almost a comfort, and she + thought of writing it to Maude Sefton, but as she got up to fetch her + writing-case from the schoolroom, she saw that her books were standing + just in the way she did not like, and with all the volumes mixed up + together. So she tumbled them all out of the shelves on the floor, and at + that moment Mrs. Halfpenny looked into the room. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, to be sure!’ she exclaimed, ‘when me and Lois have been working at + them books all the morning.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They were all nohow—as I don’t like them,’ said Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, very well, please yourself then, miss, if that’s all the thanks you + have in your pocket, you may put them up your own way, for all I care. + Only my lady will have the young ladies’ rooms kept neat and orderly, or + they lose marks for it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t want any help,’ said Dolores, crossly, and Mrs. Halfpenny shut + the door with a bang. ‘The menials are insulting me,’ said Dolores to + herself, and a tear came to her eye, while all the time there was a + certain mournful satisfaction in being so entirely the heroine of a book. + </p> + <p> + She went to work upon her books, at first hotly and sharply, and very + carefully putting the tallest in the centre so as to form a gradual ascent + with the tops and not for the world letting a second volume stand before + its elder brother, but she soon got tired, took to peeping at one or two + parting gifts which she had not yet been able to read, and at last got + quite absorbed in the sorrows of a certain Clare, whose golden hair was + cut short by her wicked aunt, because it outshone her cousin’s sandy + locks. There was reason to think that a tress of this same golden hair + would lead to her recognition by some grandfather of unknown magnificence, + as exactly like that of his long-lost Claribel, and this might result in + her assuming splendours that would annihilate the aunt. Things seemed + tending to a fracture of the ice under the cruellest cousin of all, and + her rescue by Clare, when they would be carried senseless into the great + house, and the recognition of Clare and the discomfiture of her foes would + take place. How could Dolores shut the book at such a critical moment! + </p> + <p> + So there she was sitting in the midst of her scattered books, when the + galloping and scampering began again, and Mysie knocked at the door to + tell her there were pears, apples, biscuits, and milk in the dining-room, + and that after consuming them, lessons had to be learnt for the next day, + and then would follow amusements, evening toilette, seven o’clock tea, and + either games or reading aloud till bedtime. As to the books, Mysie stood + aghast. + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought nurse and Lois had done them all for you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They did them all wrong, so I took them down.’ + </p> + <p> + Oh, dear! We must put them in, or there’ll be a report.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A report!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, Nurse Halfpenny reports us whenever she doesn’t find our rooms tidy, + and then we get a bad mark. Perhaps mamma wouldn’t give you one this first + day, but it is best to make sure. Shall I help you, or you won’t have time + to eat any pears?’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores was thankful for help, and the books were scrambled in anyhow on + the shelves; for Mysie’s good nature was endangering her share of the + afternoon’s gouter, though perhaps it consoled her that her curiosity was + gratified by a hasty glance at the backs of her cousin’s story-books. + </p> + <p> + By the time the two girls got down to the dining-table, every one had left + the room, and there only remained one doubtful pear, and three baked + apples, besides the loaf and the jug of milk. Mysie explained that not + being a regular meal, no one was obliged to come punctually to it, or to + come at all, but these who came tardily might fare the worse. As to the + blackberries, for which Dolores inquired, the girls were going to make jam + of them themselves the next day; but Mysie added, with an effort, she + would fetch some, as her cousin had had none in the gathering. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh no, thank you; I hate blackberries,’ said Dolores, helping herself to + an apple. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you?’ said Mysie, blankly. ‘We don’t. They are such fun. You can’t + think how delicious the great overhanging clusters are in the lane. Some + was up so high that Hal had to stand up in the cart to reach them, and to + take Fergus up on his shoulder. We never had such a blackberrying as with + mamma and Hal to help us. And only think, a great carriage came by, with + some very grand people in it; we think it was the Dean; and they looked + down the lane and stared, so surprised to see what great mind to call out, + ‘Fee, faw, fum.’ You know nothing makes such a good giant as Fergus + standing on Hal’s shoulders, and a curtain over them to hide Hal’s face. + Oh dear, I wish I hadn’t told you! You would have been a new person to + show it to.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores made very little answer, finished her apple, and followed to the + schoolroom, where an irregular verb, some geography, and some dates + awaited her. + </p> + <p> + Then followed another rush of the populace for the evening meal of the + live stock, but in this Dolores was too wary to share. She made her way up + to her retreat again, and tried to lose the sense of her trouble and + loneliness in a book. Then came the warning bell, and a prodigious + scuffling, racing and chasing, accompanied by yells as of terror and roars + as of victory, all cut short by the growls of Mrs. Halfpenny. Everything + then subsided. The world was dressing; Dolores dressed too, feeling hurt + and forlorn at no one’s coming to help her, and yet worried when Mysie + arrived with orders from Mrs. Halfpenny to come to her to have her sash + tied. + </p> + <p> + ‘I think a servant ought to come to me. Caroline always does,’ said the + only daughter with dignity. + </p> + <p> + ‘She can’t, for she is putting Primrose to bed. Oh, it’s so delicious to + see Prim in her bath,’ said Mysie, with a little skip. ‘Make haste, or we + shall miss her, the darling.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores did not feel pressed to behold the spectacle, and not being in the + habit of dressing without assistance, she was tardy, and Mysie fidgeted + about and nearly distracted her. Thus, when she reached the nursery, + Primrose was already in her little white bed-gown, and was being incited + by Valetta to caper about on her cot, like a little acrobat, as her + sisters said, while Mrs. Halfpenny declared that ‘they were making the + child that rampageous, she should not get her to sleep till midnight.’ + </p> + <p> + They would have been turned out much sooner, and Primrose hushed into + silence, if nurse’s soul had not been horrified by the state of Dolores’ + hair and the general set of her garments. + </p> + <p> + ‘My certie!’ she exclaimed—a dreadful exclamation in the eyes of the + family, who knew it implied that in all her experience Mrs. Halfpenny had + never known the like! And taking Dolores by the hand, she led the wrathful + and indignant girl back into her bedroom, untied and tied, unbuttoned and + buttoned, brushed and combed in spite of the second bell ringing, the + general scamper, and the sudden apparition of Mysie and Val, whom she bade + run away and tell her leddyship that ‘Miss Mohoone should come as soon as + she was sorted, but she ought to come up early to have her hair looked to, + for ‘twas shame to see how thae fine London servants sorted a motherless + bairn.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores felt herself insulted; she turned red all over, with feelings the + old Scotchwoman could not understand. She expected to hear the message + roared out to the whole assembly round the tea-table, but Mysie had + discretion enough to withhold her sister from making it public. + </p> + <p> + The tea itself, though partaken of by Lady Merrifield, seemed an indignity + to the young lady accustomed to late dinners. After it, the whole family + played at ‘dumb crambo.’ Dolores was invited to join, and instructed to + ‘do the thing you think it is;’ but she was entirely unused to social + games, and thought it only ridiculous and stupid when the word being a + rhyme to ite, Fergus gave rather too real a blow to Wilfred, and Gillian + answered, ‘’Tis not smite;’ Wilfred held out a hand, and was told, ‘’Tis + not right;’ Val flourished in the air as if holding a string, and was + informed that ‘kite’ was wrong; when Hal ran away as if pursued by Fergus + by way of flight; and Mysie performed antics which she was finally obliged + to explain were those of a sprite. Dolores could not recollect anything, + and only felt annoyed at being made to feel stupid by such nonsense, when + Mysie tried to make her a present of a suggestion by pointing to the back + of a letter. Neither write nor white would come into her head, though + little Fergus signalized himself, just before he was swept off to bed, by + seizing a pen and making strokes! + </p> + <p> + After his departure, Lady Merrifield read aloud ‘The Old oak Staircase,’ + which had been kept to begin when Dolores came, Hal taking the book in + turn with his mother. And so ended Dolores’ first day of banishment. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. — THE FIRST WALK + </h2> + <p> + ‘What a lot of letters for you, mamma!’ cried Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Papa!’ exclaimed Fergus and Primrose. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, it is not the right day, my dears. But here is a letter from Aunt + Ada.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh!’ in a different tone. + </p> + <p> + ‘She writes for Aunt Jane. They will come down here next Monday because + Aunt Jane is wanted to address the girls at the G.F.S. festival on + Tuesday.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Aunt Jane seems to have taken to public speaking,’ said Harry. ‘It would + be rather a lark to hear her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You may have a chance,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘for here is a note from + Mrs. Blackburn to ask if I will be so very kind as to let them have the + festival here. They had reckoned upon Tillington Park, where they have + always had it before, but they hear that all the little Tillingtons have + the measles, and they don’t think it safe to venture there.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It will be great fun!’ said Gillian. ‘We will have all sorts of games, + only I’m afraid they will be much stupider than the Irish girls.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And ever so much stupider than the dear 111th children,’ sighed Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Aren’t they all great big girls?’ asked Valetta, disconsolately. + </p> + <p> + ‘I believe twelve years old is the limit,’ said her mother. + ‘Twelve-year-old girls have plenty of play in them, Vals, haven’t they, + Mysie? Let me see—two hundred and thirty of them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For you to feast?’ asked Harry. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, no—that cost comes out of their own funds, Mrs. Blackburn takes + care to tell me, and Miss Hacket will find some one in Siverfold who will + provide tables and forms and crockery. I must go down and talk to Miss + Hacket as soon as lessons are over. Or perhaps it would save time and + trouble if I wrote and asked her to come up to luncheon and see the + capabilities of the place. Why, what’s the matter?’ pausing at the blank + looks. + </p> + <p> + ‘The jam, mamma—the blackberry jam!’ cried Valetta. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We can’t do it without Gill, and she will have to be after that Miss + Constance,’ explained Val. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! never mind. She won’t stay all the afternoon,’ said Gillian, + cheerfully. ‘Luncheon people don’t.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, but then there will be lessons to be learnt.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here, Val,’ said Gillian, ‘if you and Mysie will learn your lessons + for tomorrow while I’m bound to Miss Con., I’ll do mine some time in the + evening, and be free for the jam when she is gone.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The dear delicious jam!’ cried Val, springing about upon her chair; and + Lady Merrifield further said— + </p> + <p> + ‘I wonder whether Mysie and Dolores would like to take the note down. They + could bring back a message by word of mouth.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, thank you, mamma!’ cried Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then I will write the note as soon as we have done breakfast. Don’t + dawdle, Fergus boy.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mayn’t I go?’ demanded Wilfred. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, my dear. It is your morning with Mr. Poulter. And you must take care + not to come back later than eleven, Mysie dear; I cannot have him kept + waiting. Dolores, do you like to go?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, please,’ said Dolores, partly because it was at any rate gain to + escape from that charity-school lesson in the morning, and partly because + Valetta was looking at her in the ardent hope that she would refuse the + privilege of the walk, and it therefore became valuable; but there was so + little alacrity in her voice that her aunt asked her whether she were + quite rested and really liked the walk, which would be only half a mile to + the outskirts of the town. + </p> + <p> + Dolores hated personal inquiries beyond everything, and replied that she + was quite well, and didn’t mind. + </p> + <p> + So soon as she and Mysie had finished, they were sent off to get ready, + while Aunt Lilias wrote her note in pencil at the corner of the table, + which she never left, while Fergus and Primrose were finishing their meal; + but she had to silence a storm at the ‘didn’t mind’—Gillian even + venturing to ask how she could send one to whom it was evidently no + pleasure to go. ‘I think she likes it more than she shows,’ said the + mother, ‘and she wants air, and will settle to her lessons the better for + it. What’s that, Val?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It was my turn, mamma,’ said Valetta, in an injured voice. + </p> + <p> + ‘It will be your turn next, Val,’ said her mother, cheerfully. ‘Dolores + comes between you and Mysie, so she must take her place accordingly. And + today we grant her the privilege of the new-comer.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores would have esteemed the privilege more, if, while she was going + upstairs to put on her hat, the recollection had not occurred to her of + one of the victim’s of an aunt’s cruelty who was always made to run on + errands while her favoured cousins were at their studies. Was this the + beginning? Somehow, though her better sense knew this was a foolish fancy, + she had a secret pleasure in pitying herself, and posing to herself as a + persecuted heroine. And then she was greatly fretted to find the housemaid + in her room, looking as if no one else had any business there. What was + worse, she could not find her jacket. She pulled out all her drawers with + fierce, noisy jerks, and then turned round on the maid, sharply demanding— + </p> + <p> + ‘Who has taken my jacket?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m sure I don’t know, Miss Dollars. You’d best ask Mrs. Halfpenny.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If—’ but at that moment Mysie ran in, holding the jacket in her + hand. ‘I saw it in the nursery,’ she said, triumphantly. ‘Nurse had taken + it to mend! Come along. Where’s your hat?’ + </p> + <p> + But there was pursuit; Mrs. Halfpenny was at the door. ‘Young ladies, you + are not going out of the policy in that fashion.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma sent us. Mamma wants us to take a note in a hurry. Only to Miss + Hacket,’ pleaded Mysie, as Mrs. Halfpenny laid violent hands on her brown + Holland jacket, observing— + </p> + <p> + ‘My leddy never bade ye run off mair like a wild worricow than a general + officer’s daughter, Miss Mysie. What’s that? Only Miss Hacket, do you say? + You should respect yourself and them you come of mair than to show + yourself to a blind beetle in an unbecoming way. ‘Tis well that there’s + one in the house that knows what is befitting. Miss Dollars, you stand + still; I must sort your necktie before you go. ‘Tis all of a wisp. Miss + Mysie, you tell your mamma that I should be fain to know her pleasure + about Miss Dollars’ frocks. She’ve scarce got one—coloured or + mourning—that don’t want altering.’ + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Halfpenny always caused Dolores such extreme astonishment and awe + that she obeyed her instantly, but to be turned about and tidied by an + authoritative hand was extremely disagreeable to the independent young + lady. Caroline had never treated her thus, being more willing to permit + untidiness than to endure her temper. She only durst, after the pair were + released, remonstrate with Mysie on being termed Miss Dollars. + </p> + <p> + ‘They can’t make out your name,’ said Mysie. ‘I tried to teach Lois, but + nurse said she had no notion of new-fangled nonsense names.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m sure Valetta and Primrose are worse.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! but Val was born at Malta, and mamma had always loved the Grand + Master La Valetta so much, and had written verses about him when she was + only sixteen. And Primrose was named after the first primrose mamma had + seen for twelve years—the first one Val and I had ever seen.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They called me Miss Mohun at home.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, but we can’t here, because of Aunt Jane.’ + </p> + <p> + All this was chattered forth on the stairs before the two girls reached + the dining-room, where Mysie committed the feeding of her pets to Val, and + received the note, with fresh injunctions to come home by eleven, and + bring word whether Miss Hacket and Miss Constance would both come to + luncheon. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh dear!’ sighed Gillian, and there was a general groan round the table. + </p> + <p> + ‘It can’t be helped, my dear.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh no, I know it can’t,’ said Gillian, resignedly. + </p> + <p> + ‘You see,’ said Mysie. ‘Yes, come along, Basto dear. You see Gill has to + be—down, Basto, I say!—a young lady when.... Never mind him, + Dolores, he won’t hurt. When Miss Constance Hacket and—leave her + alone, Basto, I say!—and she is such a goose. Not you, Dolores, but + Miss Constance.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh that dog! I wish you would not take him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not take dear old Basto! Why ‘tis such a treat for him to get a walk in + the morning—the delight of his jolly old black heart. Isn’t he a + dear old fellow? and he never hurt anybody in his life! It’s only setting + off! He will quiet down in a minute; but I couldn’t disappoint him. Could + I, my old man?’ + </p> + <p> + Never having lived with animals nor entered into their feelings, Dolores + could not understand how a dog’s pleasure could be preferred to her + comfort, and felt a good deal hurt, though Basto’s antics subsided as soon + as they were past the inner gate shutting in the garden from the paddock, + which was let out to a farmer. Mysie, however, ran on as usual with her + stream of information— + </p> + <p> + ‘The Miss Hacket were sister or daughters or something to some old man who + used to be clergyman here, and they are all married up but these two, and + they’ve got the dearest little house you ever saw. They had a nephew in + the 111th, and so they came and called on us at once. Miss Hacket is a + regular old dear, but we none of us can bear Miss Constance, except that + mamma says we ought to be sorry for her because she leads such a confined + life. Miss Hacket and Aunt Jane always do go on so about the G.F.S. They + both are branch secretaries, you know.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I know! Aunt Jane did bother Mrs. Sefton so that she says she will never + have another of those G.F.S. girls. She says it is a society for + interference.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma likes it,’ said Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! but she is only just come.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes; but she always looked after the school children at Beechcroft before + she married, and she and Alethea and Phyllis had the soldiers’ children up + on Sunday. Alethea taught the little drummer boys, and they were so funny. + I wonder who teaches them now! Gill always goes down to help Miss Hacket + with her G.F.S. classes. She has one on Sunday afternoon, and one on + Tuesday for sewing, and she is the only young lady in the place who can do + plain needlework properly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Sewing-machines can work. What the use of fussing about it!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They can’t mend,’ said Mysie. ‘Besides, do you know, in the American war, + all the sewing-machines in the Southern States got out of order, and as + all the machinery people were in the north, the poor ladies didn’t know + what to do, and couldn’t work without them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Sewing-machines are a recent invention,’ said Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! you didn’t think I meant the great old War of Independence. No, I + meant the war about the slaves—secession they called it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is not in the history of England,’ said Dolores, as if Mysie had no + business to look beyond. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why! of course not, when it happened in America. Papa told us about it. + He read it in some paper, I think. Don’t you like learning things in that + way?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No. I don’t approve of irregular unsystematic knowledge.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores has heard her mother say something of this kind, and it came into + her head most opportunely as a defence of her father—for she would + not for the world have confessed that he did not talk to her as Sir Jasper + Merrifield seemed to have done to his children. In fact she rather + despised the General for so doing. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! but it is such fun picking up things out of lesson time!’ said Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘That is the Edge—,’ Dolores was not sure of the word Edgeworthian, + so she went on to ‘system. Professor Sefton says he does not approve of + harassing children with cramming them with irregular information at all + sorts of times. Let play be play and lessons be lessons, he says, not + mixed up together, and so Rex and Maude never learnt anything—not a + letter—till they were seven years old.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How stupid!’ cried Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Maude’s not stupid!’ cried Dolores, ‘nor the professor either! She’s my + great friend.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I didn’t say she was stupid,’ said Mysie, apologetically, ‘only that it + must be very stupid not to be able to read till one was seven. Could you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, yes. I can’t remember when I couldn’t read. But Maude used to play + with a little girl who could read and talk French at five years old, and + she died of water upon her brain.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear me! Primrose can read quite well,’ said Mysie, somewhat alarmed; + ‘but then,’ she went on in a reassured voice, ‘so could all of us except + Jasper and Gillian, and they felt the heat so much at Gibraltar that they + were quite stupid while they were there.’ + </p> + <p> + This discussion brought the two girls across the paddock out into a road + with a broad, neat footpath, where numerous little children were being + exercised with nurses and perambulators. At first it was bordered by + fields on either side, but villas soon began to spring up, and presently + the girls reached what looked like a long, low ‘cottage residence,’ but + was really two, with a verandah along the front, and a garden divided in + the middle by a paling covered with canary nasturtium shrubs. The verandah + on one side was hung with a rich purple pall of the dark clematis, on the + other by a Gloire de Dijon rose. There were bright flower beds, and the + dormer windows over the verandah looked like smiling eyes under their deep + brows of creeper-trimmed verge-board. What London-bred Dolores saw was a + sight that shocked her—a lady standing unbonnetted just beyond the + verandah, talking to a girl whose black hat and jacket looked what Mysie + called ‘very G.F.S.-y.’ + </p> + <p> + The lady did not turn out to be young or beautiful. She was near middle + age, and looked as if she were far too busy to be ever plump; she had a + very considerable amount of nose and rather thin, dark hair, done in a + fashion which, like that of her navy blue linen dress, looked perfectly + antiquated to Dolores. As she saw the two girls at the gate she came down + the path eagerly to welcome them. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! my dear Mysie! so kind of your dear mother! I thought I should hear + from her.’ And as she kissed Mysie, she added, ‘And this is the new + cousin. My dear, I am glad to see you here.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores thought her own dignified manner had kept off a kiss, not knowing + that Miss Hacket was far too ladylike to be over-familiar, and that there + was no need to put on such a forbidding look. + </p> + <p> + Mysie gave her message and note, but Miss Hacket could not give the verbal + answer at once till she had consulted her sister. She was not sure whether + Constance had not made an engagement to play lawn-tennis, so they must + come in. + </p> + <p> + There sounded ‘coo-roo-oo coo-roo-oo’ in the verandah, and Mysie cried— + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, the dear doves!’ + </p> + <p> + Miss Hacket said she had been just feeding them when the G.F.S. girl + arrived, and as Mysie came to a halt in delight at the aspect of a young + one that had just crept out into public life, the sister was called to the + window. She was a great deal younger and more of the present day in style + than her sister, and had pensive-looking grey eyes, with a somewhat bored + languid manner as she shook hands with the early visitors. + </p> + <p> + The sisters had a little consultation over the note, during which Dolores + studied them, and Mysie studied the doves, longing to see the curious + process of feeding the young ones. + </p> + <p> + When Miss Hacket turned back to her with the acceptance of the invitation, + she thought she might wait just to help Miss Hacket to put in the corn and + the sop. Meantime Miss Constance talked to Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you arrive yesterday?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, the day before.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! it must be a great change to you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed it is.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘This must be the dullest place in England, I think,’ said Miss Constance. + ‘No variety, no advantages of any kind! And have not you lived in London?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is my ambition! I once spent six weeks in London, and it was an + absolute revelation—the opening of another world. And I understand + that Mr. Maurice Mohun is such a clever man, and that you saw a great deal + of his friends.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I used,’ said Dolores, thinking of those days of her mother when she was + the pet and plaything of the guests, incited to say clever and pert + things, which then were passed round and embellished till she neither knew + them nor comprehended them. + </p> + <p> + ‘That is what I pine for!’ exclaimed Miss Constance. ‘Nobody here has any + ideas. You can’t conceive how borne and prejudiced every one her who is + used to something better! Don’t you love art needlework?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Maude Sefton has been working Goosey Goosey Gander on a toilet-cover.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! how sweet! We never get any new patterns here! Do come in and see, I + don’t know which to take; I brought three beginnings home to choose from, + and I am quite undecided.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mrs. Sefton draws her own patterns,’ said Dolores. ‘Something she gets + ideas from Lorenzo Dellman—he’s an artist, you know, and a regular + aesthete! He made her do a dado all sunflowers last year, but they are a + little gone out now, and are very staring besides, and I think she will + have some nymphs dancing among almond-trees in blue vases instead, as soon + as she has designed it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Isn’t that lovely! Oh! what would I not give for such opportunities? Do + let me have your opinion.’ + </p> + <p> + So Dolores went in with her, and looked at three patterns, one of tall + daisies; another of odd-looking doves, one on each side of a red Etruscan + vase, where the water must have been as much out of their reach as that in + the pitcher was beyond the crow’s; and a third, of Little Bo Peep. Having + given her opinion in favour of Bo Peep, she was taken upstairs to inspect + the young lady’s store of crewels, and choose the colours. + </p> + <p> + Dolores neither knew nor cared anything about fancy work, but to be + treated as an authority was quite soothing, and she fully believed that + the mere glimpses she had had of Mrs. Sefton’s work and the shop windows, + enabled her to give great enlightenment to this poor country mouse; so she + gladly went to the bedroom, with a muslin-worked toilet-cover, embroidered + curtains, plates fastened against the wall, and table all over + knick-knacks, which Miss Constance called her little den, where she could + study beauty after her own bent, while her sister Mary was wholly + engrossed with the useful, and could endure nothing but the prose of the + last century. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Mysie had forgotten how time flew in her belief that in one + minute more the young doves would want to be fed, and then in amusement at + seeing them pursue their parents with low squeaks and flutterings, + watching, too, the airs and graces, bowing, cooing, and laughing of the + old ones. When at last she was startled by hearing eleven struck, there + had to be a great hunt for Dolores in the drawing-room and garden, and + when at last Miss Hacket’s calls for her sister brought the tow downstairs + more than ten minutes had passed! Mysie was too much dismayed, and in too + great a hurry to do anything but cry, ‘Come along, Dolores,’ and set off + at such a gallop as to scandalize the Londoner, even when Mysie + recollected that it was too public a place for running, and slackened her + pace. Dolores was soon gasping, and with a stitch in her side. Mysie would + have exclaimed, ‘What were you doing with Miss Constance?’ but + breathlessness happily prevented it. The way across the paddock seemed + endless, and Mysie was chafed at having to hold back for her companion, + who panted in distress, leant against a tree, declared she could not go + on, she did not care, and then when, Mysie set off running, was seized + with fright at being left alone in this vast unknown space, cried after + her and made a rush, soon ending in sobbing breath. + </p> + <p> + At last they were at the door, and Wilfred just coming out of the + dining-room greeted them with, ‘A quarter to twelve. Won’t you catch it? + Oh my!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Are they come?’ said Lady Merrifield, looking out of the schoolroom. ‘My + dear children! Did Miss Hacket keep you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, mamma,’ gasped Mysie. ‘At least it was my fault for watching the + doves.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! Mysie, I must not send you on a message next time. Mr. Poulter has + been waiting these twenty minutes, and I am afraid you are not fit to take + a lesson now. Dolores looks quite done up! I shall send you both to lie + down on your beds and learn your poetry for an hour. And you must write an + apology to Mr. Poulter this afternoon. No, don’t go in now. Go up at once, + Gillian shall bring your books. Does Miss Hacket come?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, mamma,’ said Mysie humbly, looking at Dolores all the time. She was + too generous to say that part of the delay had been caused by looking for + her cousin, and having to adapt her pace to the slower one, but she + decidedly expected the avowal from Dolores, and thought it mean not to + make it. ‘And, oh, the jam!’ she mourned as she went upstairs. While, on + the other hand, Dolores considered what she called ‘being sent to bed’ an + unmerited and unjust sentence given without a hearing; when their + tardiness had been all Mysie’s fault, not hers. She had no notion that her + aunt only sent them to lie down, because they looked heated, tired, and + spent, and was really letting them off their morning’s lessons. It was a + pity that she felt too forlorn and sullen even to complain when Gillian + brought up Macaulay’s ‘Armada’ for her to learn the first twelve lines, or + she might have come to an understanding, but all that was elicited from + her was a glum ‘No,’ when asked if she knew it already. Gillian told her + not to keep her dusty boots on the bed, and she vouchsafed no answer, for + she did not consider Gillian her mistress, though, after she was left to + herself, she found them so tight and hot that she took them off. Then she + looked over the verses rather contemptuously—she who always learnt + German poetry; and she had a great mind to assert her independence by + getting off the bed, and writing a letter to Maude Sefton, describing the + narrow stupidity of the whole family, and how her aunt, without hearing + her, had send her to be for Mysie’s fault. However she felt so shaky and + tired that she thought she had better rest a little first, and somehow she + fell fast asleep, and was only awakened by the gong. She jumped up in + haste, recollecting that the delightful sympathizing Miss Constance was + coming to luncheon, and set her hair and dress to rights eagerly, + observing, however, to herself, that her horrid aunt was quite capable of + imprisoning her all the time for not having learnt that stupid poetry. + </p> + <p> + She hesitated a little where to go when she reached the hall, but the + schoolroom door was open, and she heard a mournful voice concluding with a + gasp— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Our glorious semper eadem, the banner of our pride.’ +</pre> + <p> + And Miss Vincent saying, ‘Now, my dear, go and wash your face, and try not + to be such a dismal spectacle.’ + </p> + <p> + And then Mysie came out, with heavy eyes and a mottled face, showing that + she had been crying all the time she had been learning, over her own fault + certainly, but likewise over mamma’s displeasure and Dolly’s shabbiness. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, Dora,’ said Miss Vincent, ‘have you come to repeat your poetry?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said Dolores. ‘I went to sleep instead.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! I’m glad of that. I wish poor Mysie had done the same. I believe it + was what Lady Merrifield intended, you both looked so knocked up.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores cleared up a little at this, especially as Miss Vincent was no + relation, and she thought it a good time to make her protest against mere + English. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh!’ she said. ‘I supposed that was the reason she gave me such a stupid, + childish, sing-song nursery rhyme to learn. I can say lots of Schiller and + some Goethe.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I advise you not to let any one hear you call Lord Macaulay’s poem a + nursery rhyme, or it might never be forgotten,’ said Miss Vincent gaily. + Then seeing the cloud return to Dolores’s face, she added, ‘You have been + brought forward in German, I see. We must try to bring your knowledge of + English literature up to be even with it.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores liked this better than anything she had yet heard, chiefly because + she had learnt from her books that governesses were not uniformly so cruel + as aunts. And besides, she felt that she had been spared a public + humiliation. + </p> + <p> + By this time the guests were ringing at the door, and Miss Vincent, with + her had on, only waiting till their entrance was made to depart. Dolores + asked whether to go into the drawing-room, and was told that Lady + Merrifield preferred that the children should only appear in the + dining-room on the sound of the gong, which was not long in being heard. + </p> + <p> + The Merrifields were trained not to chatter when there was company at + table, besides Mysie and Val were in low spirits about the chance of the + blackberry cookery. Miss Hacket sat on one side of Lady Merrifield, and + talked about what associates had answered her letters, and what villages + would send contingents of girls, and it sounded very dull to the young + people. Miss Constance was next to Hal. She looked amiable and sympathetic + at Dolores on the opposite side of the table, but discussed lawn-tennis + tournaments with her neighbour, which was quite as little interesting to + the general public as was the G.F.S. However, as soon as Primrose had said + grace, Lady Merrifield proposed to take Miss Hacket down to the + stable-yard; and the whole train followed excepting the two girls, who + trusted Hal to see whether their pets would suffer inconvenience. However + it soon was made evident to Gillian that she was not wanted, and that + Dolores and Constance had no notion of wandering about the paved courts + and bare coach-houses, among the dogs and cats, guinea-pigs, and fowls. + Indeed, Constance, who was at least seven years older than Gillian, and a + full-blown young lady, dismissed her by saying ‘that she was going to see + Miss Mohun’s books.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, certainly,’ said Gillian, in a voice as though she were rather + surprised, though much relieved. + </p> + <p> + So off the friends went together—for of course they were to be + friends. The Miss Mohun had been uttered in a tone that clearly meant to + be asked to drop it, so they were to be Dolores and Constance henceforth, + if not Dolly and Cons. Dolores was such a lovely name that Constance could + not mangle it, and was sure there was some reason for it. The girl had, in + fact, been named after a Spanish lady, whom her mother had known and + admired in early girlhood, and to whom she had made a promise of naming + her first daughter after her. No doubt Dolores did not know that Mrs. + Mohun had regretted the childish promise which she had felt bound to keep + in spite of her husband’s dislike to the name, which he declared would be + a misfortune to the child. + </p> + <p> + Dolores was really proud of its peculiarity, and delighted to have any one + to sympathize with her, in that and a great deal besides, which she + communicated to her new friend in the window-seat of her room. When the + two ladies went home, Constance told her sister that ‘dear little Dolores + was a remarkable character, sadly misunderstood among those common-place + people, the Merrifields, and unjustly used, too, and she should do her + best for her!’ + </p> + <p> + Meantime Gillian, finding herself not wanted, had repaired to the + schoolroom. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, it is of no use,’ sighed Mysie, disconsolately. ‘I’ve ever so much + morning’s work to make up, too. And I never shall! I’ve muzzled my head!’ + </p> + <p> + By which remarkable expression Mysie signified that fatigue, crying, and + dinner had made her brains dull and heavy; but Gillian was a sensible + elder sister. + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t try your sum yet, then,’ she said. ‘Practise your scales for half + an hour, while I do my algebra, and then we’ll go over your German verbs + together. I’ll tell Miss Vincent, and she wont’ mind, and I think mamma + will be pleased if you try.’ + </p> + <p> + Gillian was too much used to noises not to be able to work an equation, + and prepare her Virgil, to the sound of scales, and Mysie was a good deal + restored by them and by hope. + </p> + <p> + So when at length Constance had been summoned by her sister, who tore + herself away from the arrangements, being bound to five-o’clock tea + elsewhere, Mysie was discovered with a face still rather woe-begone, but + hopeful and persevering, and though there still was a ‘bill of parcels’ + where 11 and 3/4 lbs. of mutton at 13 and 1/2d. per lb. refused to come + right, Lady Merrifield kissed her, said she had been a diligent child, and + sent her off prancing in bliss to the old ‘still-room’ stove, where they + were allowed a fire, basins, spoons, and strainers, and where the sugar + lay in a snowy heap, and the blackberries in a sanguine pile. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s partiality!’ thought Dolores, and scowled, as she stood at the + front door still gazing after Constance. + </p> + <p> + ‘Won’t you come, Dolly?’ said Mysie. ‘Or haven’t you learnt your lessons?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said Dolly, making one answer serve for both questions. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! then you can’t. Shall I ask mamma to let you off?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I don’t care. I don’t like messes! And what’s the use if you haven’t + a cookery class?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s such fun,’ said Val. + </p> + <p> + ‘And our sisters did go to a cookery class at Dublin and taught Gill,’ + added Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘But if you haven’t done your lessons, you can’t go,’ said Valetta + decidedly. + </p> + <p> + Off they went, and Lady Merrifield presently crossed the hall, and saw + Dolores’ attitude. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, are you waiting to say those verses?’ she said kindly. + </p> + <p> + ‘I hadn’t time to learn them, I went to sleep,’ said Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘A very good thing too, my dear. Suppose we go over them together.’ + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lilias took the unwilling hand, led Dolores into the schoolroom, and + for half an hour she went over the verses with her, explaining what was + new to the girl, and vividly describing the agitation of Plymouth, and the + flocks of people thronging in. ‘I must show her that I will be minded, but + I will make it pleasant to her, poor child,’ she thought. + </p> + <p> + And it could not have been otherwise than pleasant to her, but that she + was reflecting all this time that she was being punished while Mysie was + enjoying herself. Therefore she put the lid on her intellect, and was + inconceivably stupid. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. — PERSECUTION + </h2> + <p> + On Monday afternoon Dolores was sitting at the end of the long garden + walk, upon a green garden-bench, with a crocodile’s head and tail roughly + carved. The shouts of the others were audible in the distance beyond the + belt of trees. Aunt Lily had driven into the town to meet her sisters, + taking Fergus with her, whereas Dolores had never been out in the + carriage. There was partiality! Though, to be sure, Fergus was to have a + tooth out! Harry and Gillian were playing with the rest, and she had been + invited to join, but she had made answer that she hated romping, and on + being assured that no romping was necessary, she replied that she only + wanted to read in peace. She had refused the “Thorn Fortress,” which she + was told would explain the game, and had hunted out “Clare, or No Home,” + to compare her lot with that of the homeless one. + </p> + <p> + Certainly, she had not yet been sent to bed with a box on the ear because + a countess had shown symptoms of noticing her more than her ugly, + over-dressed cousin. But then Aunt Lily would not allow her to walk down + alone to the Casement Villas to see dear Constance, and would let that + farmer keep all those dreadful cows in the paddock, so that even going + escorted was a terror to her. + </p> + <p> + Nor had her handsome mourning been taken from her and old clothes of her + cousin substituted for it. No, but she had been cruelly pulled about + between Mrs. Halfpenny and the Silverton dressmaker with a mouthful of + pins; and Aunt Lily had insisted on her dress being trimmed with velvet, + instead of the jingling jet she preferred. + </p> + <p> + Did they intercept her letters? She had had one from her father, sent from + Falmouth, but only one from Maude Sefton in ten days! Moreover, she had + one from Constance in her apron pocket, arrived that very afternoon, + asking her to come down with Gillian on the Sundays, that the friends + might enjoy themselves together while the classes were going on; but she + made sure that all were so jealous of her friendship with Constance that + no consent would be given. + </p> + <p> + She did not hear or notice the whisperings in the laurels behind her— + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you see that sulky old Croat, smoking his pipe under the tree?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, he is a Black Brunswicker.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nonsense, Willie; the Black Brunswickers weren’t till Bonaparte’s time.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t care, he is anything black and nasty; here goes!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh stop; don’t shoot. I believe he is only a vivandiere. Besides, it’s + treacherous—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I tell you he is laying a train to blow up the tower. There!’ + </p> + <p> + An arrow struck the bench beside Dolores, who, more angry than she had + ever been in her life, snatched it up, unheeding that it had no point to + speak of, rushed headlong in pursuit, while, with a tremendous shout, + Valetta and Wilfred flew before her to a waste overgrown place at the end + of the kitchen garden. + </p> + <p> + ‘We’ve shot a Croat!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, a Black Brunswicker.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh ah! They are coming—the enemy! Into the fortress! Bar the wolf’s + passage!’ + </p> + <p> + And as Dolores struggled through the bushes, she saw the whole family + dashing into an outhouse, and the door slammed. She pushed against it, but + an unearthly compound of howls, yells, shouts and bangs replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘Gillian! Harry, I say,’ she cried in great anger; ‘come out, I want to + speak to you.’ + </p> + <p> + But her voice was lost in the war-whoops within, and the louder she + knocked, the louder grew the din, till she walked off, swelling with grief + and indignation. Mysie, after all her professions of friendship, to use + her in this way! And Harry and Gillian, who should have kept the others + within bounds! + </p> + <p> + Slowly she crossed the lawn, just as Lady Merrifield, the other two aunts, + and Fergus, all came out from the glass door of the drawing-room. Aunt + Jane, a trim little dark-eyed woman, looking at two and forty much the + same as she might have done at five and twenty; and Aunt Adeline, pretty + and delicately fair, with somewhat of the same grace as Lady Merrifield, + but more languor, and an air as if everything about her were for effect. + Though not specially fond of theses aunts, Dolores was glad to have them + as witnesses of her ill-usage. + </p> + <p> + ‘There stands Dolly, like a statue of Diana, dart in hand,’ exclaimed Aunt + Adeline. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Dolores; ‘I wish to know, Aunt Lilias, if Wilfred and Valetta + are to call me names, and shoot arrows at me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What do you mean, my dear?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They came at me while I was sitting quietly reading—there—and + shot at me, and called me such horrid names I can’t repeat them, and ran + away. Then the others, Gillian and Harry and all, would not listen to me, + but shut themselves up in an out-house and shouted at me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I think there must be some mistake, Dolores,’ said her aunt. ‘Where are + they?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Out beyond there,’ said Dolores, pointing in the direction in which + Fergus was running. + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield set off with her, and the other two ladies followed more + slowly. + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought it would not do,’ said Aunt Jane. + </p> + <p> + ‘Lily’s children are so rough,’ added Aunt Adeline. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am not so sure that the fault is theirs,’ was the reply. ‘She is a + priggish little puss, who wants shaking up.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! here come the hordes,’ sighed Adeline, shrinking a little, as the + entire population, summoned by Fergus, came pouring forth to meet the + advancing mother. + </p> + <p> + ‘How is this, Wilfred? Have you been shooting arrows at your cousin?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mama!’ cried Valetta, indignantly, ‘he did not shoot at her; he only + pretended, and shot the old crocodile-bench. He never meant any more. It + was only play.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Have you not been forbidden to shoot in the direction of any person?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nor I didn’t!’ said Wilfred. ‘I only shot the crocodile. I never tried to + hit her. She is quite big enough to miss.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And she did look such a nice Croat, mamma,’ added Valetta. ‘We were + scouts out of the Thorn Fortress, Willie and I, and it was such a jolly + dodge to steal upon one of the enemy.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You should have warned her.’ + </p> + <p> + Then it would not have been a surprise,’ said Val, seriously. + </p> + <p> + ‘Was she not at play with you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, mamma,’ said Mysie. ‘We asked her, and she would not. I say,’ pausing + in consternation, ‘Dolores, was it you that came and called at the door of + the Wolf’s passage?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course. I wanted to show Gillian how Wilfred behaved to me.’ + </p> + <p> + I thought it was Fergus come home to be the enemy.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Didn’t you know her voice?’ asked the mother + </p> + <p> + ‘We were all making such a noise ourselves in the dark,’ said Gillian, + ‘that there was no hearing any one; and Primrose was rather frightened, so + that Hal was attending to her. Indeed, Dolores, I am very sorry. If we had + guessed that it was you, we would have opened the door at once, and then + you would have known that it was all fun and play, and not have troubled + mamma about it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Wilfred and Valetta knew,’ said Dolores, rather sullenly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! but it was such fun,’ said Val. + </p> + <p> + ‘It was fun that became unkindness on your part,’ said her mother. ‘You + ought not to have kept it up without warning to her. And what do I hear + about names? I hope that was also misunderstanding of the game. What did + you call her?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Only a Croat,’ said Valetta, indignantly, ‘and a Black Brunswicker.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Was that it, Dolores?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps,’ she muttered, disconcerted by a laugh from her Aunt Jane. + </p> + <p> + ‘I do not know what you took them for,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘but you see + some part of this trouble arose from a mistake on you part. Now, Wilfred + and Valetta, remember that is not right to force a person into play + against her will. And as to the shooting near, but not at her, you both + know perfectly well that it is forbidden. So give me your bow, Wilfred. I + shall keep it for a week, that you may remember obedience.’ + </p> + <p> + Wilfred looked sullen, but obeyed. Dolores could not call her aunt unjust, + but as she look round, she met glances that made her think it prudent to + shelter herself among the elders. Aunt Jane asked what the game was. + </p> + <p> + ‘The Thorn Fortress,’ said Gillian. ‘It comes out of that delightful + S.P.C.K. book so called, where, in the ‘Thirty Years’ War,’ all the people + of a village took refuge from the soldiers in a field in the middle of a + forest guarded by a tremendous hedge of thorns. Val had it for a birthday + present, and the children have been acting it ever since.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It has quite put out the Desert Island passion, which used to be a + regular stage in these children’s lives. Every voyage we have taken, + somebody has come to ask whether there was any hope of being wrecked on + one.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Fergus even asked when we crossed from Dublin,’ said Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘He was put up to that, to keep up the tradition,’ observed Harry. + </p> + <p> + On reaching the house, the elders proceeded to five o’clock tea in the + drawing-room, the juniors to gouter in the dining-room. As Dolores + entered, she beheld a row of all her five younger cousins drawn up looking + at her as if she had committed high treason, and she was instantly + addressed— + </p> + <p> + ‘Tell-take tit!’ began Valetta. + </p> + <p> + ‘Sneak!’ cried Wilfred. + </p> + <p> + ‘I will call her Croat!’ added Fergus. + </p> + <p> + ‘Worse than Croat! Bashi Bazouk!’ exclaimed Valetta. + </p> + <p> + ‘Worse than Crow!’ chimed in Primrose. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Dolores! How could you?’ said Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘To get poor Willie punished!’ said Val. + </p> + <p> + Dolores stood her ground. ‘It was time to speak when it came to shooting + arrows at me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hush! hush! Willie,’ cried Mysie. ‘I told you so. Now Dolores, listen. + Nobody ever tells of anybody when it is only being tiresome and they don’t + mean it, or there never would be any peace at all. That’s honour! Do you + see? One may go to Gill sometimes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘One’s a sneak if one does,’ put in Wilfred; but Mysie, unheeding went on— + </p> + <p> + ‘And Gill can help without a fuss or going to mamma.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma always knows,’ said Val. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma knows all about everything,’ said Mysie. ‘I think it’s nature; ad + if she does not always take notice at the time, she will have it out + sooner or later.’ Then resuming the thread of her discourse: ‘So you see, + Dolly, we have made up our minds that we will forgive you this time, + because you are an only child and don’t know what’s what, and that’s some + excuse. Only you mustn’t go on telling tales whenever an evident happens.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores thought it was she who ought to forgive, but the force against her + was overpowering, though still she hesitated. ‘But if I promise not to + tell,’ she said, ‘how do I know what may be done to me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You might trust us,’ cried Mysie, with flashing eyes. + </p> + <p> + ‘And I can tell you,’ added Wilfred, ‘that if you do tell, it will be ever + so much the worse for you—girl that you are.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘War to the knife! Cried Valetta, and everybody except Mysie joined in the + outcry. ‘War to the knife with traitors in the camp.’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie managed to produce a pause, and again acted orator. ‘You see, + Dolores, if you did tell, it would not be possible for mamma or Gill to be + always looking after you, and I couldn’t do you much good—and if all + these three are set against you, and are horrid to you, and I couldn’t do + you much good—horrid to you, you’ll have no peace in your life; and, + after all, we only ask of you to give and take in a good-natured sort of + way, and not to be always making a fuss about everything you don’t like. + It is the only way, I assure you.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores saw the fates were against her, and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You promise?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then we forgive you, and here’s the box of chocolate things Aunt Ada + brought. We’ll have a cigar all round and be friends. Smoke the pipe of + peace.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores afterwards thought how grand it would have been to have replied, + ‘Dolores Mohun will never be intimidated;’ but the fact was that her + spirit did quail at the thought of the tortures which the two boys might + inflict on her if Mysie abandoned her to their mercy, and she was + relieved, as well as surprised to find that her offence was condoned, and + she was treated as if nothing had happened. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Aunt Jane was asking in the drawing-room, ‘How do you get on?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Fairly well,’ was Lady Merrifield’s answer. ‘We shall work together in + time.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What does Gill say?’ asked the aunt, rather mischievously. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said the young lady, ‘I don’t think we get on at all, not even + poor Mysie, who works steadily on at her, gets snubbed a dozen times a + day, and never seems to feel it.’ + </p> + <p> + I hoped her father would have sent her to school,’ said Aunt Adeline. ‘I + knew she would be troublesome. She has all her mother’s pride.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The proudest people are those who have least to be proud of,’ said Aunt + Jane. + </p> + <p> + ‘School would have hardened the crust and kept up the alienation,’ said + Lady Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps not. It might teach her to value the holidays, and learn that + blood is thicker than water,’ said Miss Jane. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is always in reserve,’ added Miss Adeline. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, Maurice told her to send her if I grew tired of her, as he said,’ + replied Lady Merrifield, ‘but of course I should not think of that unless + for very strong reasons.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, mamma!’ and Gillian remained with her mouth open. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well?’ said Aunt Jane. + </p> + <p> + ‘I meant to have told you mamma, but Mr. Leadbitter came in about the + G.F.S. and stopped me, and I have never seen you to speak to since. + Yesterday you know, I stayed from evensong to look after the little ones, + and you said Dolores might do as she pleased, so she stayed at home. The + children were looking at the book of Bible Pictures, and it came out that + Dolly knew nothing at all about Joshua and the walls of Jericho, nor + Gideon and the lamps in the pitchers, nor anything else. Then, when I was + surprised, she said that it was not the present system to perplex children + with the myths of ancient Jewish history.’ + </p> + <p> + Gillian was speaking rapidly, in the growing consciousness that her mother + had rather have had this communication reserved for her private ear—and + her answer was, ‘Poor child!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Just what I should expect!’ said Aunt Jane. + </p> + <p> + ‘Probably it was jargon half understood, and repeated in defence of her + ignorance,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘She is an odd mixture of defiant + loyalty and self-defence.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What shall you do about this kind of talk?’ asked her sister. + </p> + <p> + ‘One must hear it sooner or later,’ said Harry. + </p> + <p> + ‘That is true,’ returned his mother, ‘but I suppose Fergus and Primrose + did not hear or understand.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh no, mamma. I know they did not, for they were squabbling because + Primrose wanted to turn over before Fergus had done with Gideon.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then I don’t think there is any harm done. If it comes before Mysie or + Val I will talk to them, and I mean to take this poor child alone for a + little while each day in the week and try to get at her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s another thing,’ said Gillian. ‘Is she to go down with me always + to Casement Cottages on Sunday afternoons when I take the class?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To teach or to learn?’ ironically exclaimed Aunt Jane. + </p> + <p> + ‘Neither,’ said Gillian. ‘To chatter to Constance Hacket. They both spoke + to me about it yesterday before I went home, and I believe Constance has + written a note to her to ask her today! Fancy, that goose told me my sweet + cousin was a dear, and that we didn’t appreciate her. Even Miss Hacket + gave me quite a lecture on kindness and consideration to an orphan + stranger.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not uncalled for, perhaps,’ said Aunt Jane. ‘I hope you received it in an + edifying manner.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, Aunt Jane! Well, I believe I said we were as kind as she would let + us be, especially Mysie.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield here made the move to conduct her sisters to their rooms; + Miss Mohun detained her when they had reached hers, and had left Adeline + to rest on her sofa. The two, though very unlike, had still the habits of + absolute confidential intimacy belonging to sisters next in age. + </p> + <p> + ‘Lily,’ said Miss Mohun, ‘Gillian spoke of a note. Did Maurice give you + any directions about this child’s correspondence?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You know I did not see him. I was so much disappointed. I would give + anything to have talked her over with him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am not sure that you would have gained much. I doubt whether he knows + much about her, poor fellow. But the letters?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He wrote that she had been a good deal with Professor Sefton’s family, + and he thought they might like to keep up their intercourse.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nothing about Flinders? He ought to have warned you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No. Who is he?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A half-brother—no, a step-brother to poor Mary. He was the son by a + former marriage of her father’s first wife, and has been always a thorn in + their sides. He is a low, dissipated kind of creature; writes theatrical + criticisms for third-rate papers, or something of that kind, when he is at + his best. I believe Mary was really fond of him, and helped him more than + Maurice could well bear, and since her death the man has perfectly + pestered him with appeals to her memory. I really believe one reason he + welcomed this post was to get out of his reach.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You always know everything Jenny. Now how did you know this?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I called once in the midst of an interview between him and Mary. And + afterwards I came on poor Maurice when he was really very much provoked, + and had it all out; ad since her death—well, I saw him get a begging + letter from the man, and he spoke of it again. I wish I had advised him to + warn you against the wretch.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t suppose he knows where the child is. He is no relation to her, + you say?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘None at all, happily. But on that occasion, when I was an uncomfortable + third, Maurice was very angry that she should have been allowed to call + him Uncle Alfred; and Mary screwed up her little mouth, and evidently + rather liked the aggravation to Mohun pride.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor Maurice, so he had a skeleton! Well, I don’t see how it can hurt us. + The man probably knows nothing about us, and even if he could trace the + girl, he must know that she can do nothing for him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You had better keep an eye on her letters. He is quite capable of asking + for the poor child’s half sovereigns. I wish Maurice had given you + authority.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps he spoke to her about it. At any rate, what he said of the + Seftons is quite sufficient to imply that there is no sanction to any + other correspondence.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is true. Really, Lily, I believe you are the most likely person to + do some good with her, though I don’t think you know what you are in for. + But Gillian does!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I believe it is very good for the children to have to exercise a little + forbearance. In spite of all our knocking about the world, our family + exclusiveness is pretty much what ours was in the old Beechcroft days—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘When Rotherwood and Robert Mohun were out only outsiders and the Westons + came on us like new revelations!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is curious to look back on,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘It seems to me + that the system, or no system, on which we were brought up was rather + passing away even then.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Specks we growed,’ said Jane. ‘What do you call the system?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Just that people thought it their own business to bring up their children + themselves, and let the actual technical teaching depend upon + opportunities, whereas now they get them taught, but let the bringing up + take it chance.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘People lived with their children then—yes, I see what you mean, + Lily. Poor Eleanor, intending with all her might to be a mother to us, + brought us up, as you call it, with all her powers; but public opinion + would never have suffered us to get merely the odd sort of teaching that + she could give us. It was regular, or course; but oh! do you remember the + old atlas, with Germany divided into circles, and everything as it was + before the Congress of Vienna?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You liked geography; I hated it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, I was young enough to come in for the elder boys’ old school + atlases, which had some sense in them. It seems to me that we had more the + spirit of working for ourselves according to our individual tastes than + people have now. We learnt, they are taught.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well! and what did we learn?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘As much as we could carry,’ said Aunt Jane, laughing. ‘Assimilate, if you + like it better; and I doubt if people will turn out to have done more now. + What becomes of all the German that is crammed down girl’s throats, + whether they have a turn for languages or not? Do they ever read a German + book? Now you learnt it for love of Fouque and Max Piccolomini, and you + have kept it up ever since.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, by cramming it down my children’s throats. But what I complain of, + Jane, in the young folk that come across me is not over-knowledge, but + want of knowledge—want of general culture. This Dolores, for + instance, can do what she has been taught better than Mysie, some tings + better than Gillian, but she has absolutely no interest in general + knowledge, not even in the glaciers which she has seen; she does not know + whether Homer wrote in Greek or Latin, considers “Marmion” a lesson, + cannot tell a planet from a star, and neither knows nor cares anything + about the two Napoleons. Now we seem to have breathed in such things. Why! + I remember being made into Astyanax for a very unwilling Andromache (poor + Eleanor) for caress, and being told to shudder at the bright copper + coal-scuttle, before Harry went to school.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course poor Maurice could not cultivate his child. Yet, after all, we + grew up without a mother; but then the dear old Baron lived among us, and + knew what we were doing, instead of shutting us up in a schoolroom with + some one, with only knowledge, not culture. Those very late dinners have + quite upset all the intelligent intercourse between fathers and children + not come out.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, Jasper and I have felt that difficulty. But after all, Jenny, when I + look back, I cannot say I think ours was a model bringing up. What a + strange year that was after Eleanor’s marriage!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! you felt responsible and were too young for it, but to me it was a + very jolly time, though I suppose I was an ingredient in your troubles. + Yes, we brought ourselves up; but I maintain that it was better + alternative than being drilled so hard as never to think of anything but + arrant idling out of lesson-time.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Lessons should be lessons, and play, play, is one of the professor’s + maxims to which that poor child has treated us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! on that system, where would have been all your grand heraldic + pedigrees? I’ve got them still.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! Jenny, you good old Brownie, have you? How I should like to look at + them again and show them the Gillian and Mysie. Do you remember the little + scalloped line we drew round all the true knights?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay! and where would have been all your romancing about Sir Maurice de + Mohun, the pride of his name? For my part, I much prefer a cavalier dead + two hundred years ago as the object of a girl’s enthusiasm—if + enthusiasm she must have—to the existing lieutenant, or even + curate.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Certainly; I should be sorry to have been bred up to history with + individual interest and romance squeezed out of it. You see when Jasper + came home from the Crimea he exactly continued mine.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You have fulfilled your ideal better than falls to the lot of most + people, even to the item of knighthood.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! you should have heard us grumble over the expense of it. And, after + all, I dare say Sir Maurice found his knight’s fee quite as inconvenient! + Oh!’ with a start, ‘there’s the first bell, and here have I been dawdling + here instead of minding my business! But it is so nice to have you! I day, + Jenny, we will have one of our good old games at threadpaper verses and + all the rest tonight. I want you to show the children how we used to play + at them.’ + </p> + <p> + And the party played at paper games for nearly two hours that evening, to + the extreme delight of Gillian, Mysie, and Harry, to say nothing of their + mother and aunts, who played with all their might, even Aunt Adeline + lighting up into droll, quiet humour. Only Dolores was first bewildered, + then believed herself affronted, and soon gave up altogether, wondering + that grown-up people could be so foolish. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. — G.F.S. + </h2> + <p> + The first thought of Dolores was that she should see Constance Hacket, + when she heard ‘Hurrah for a holiday!’ resounding over the house. + </p> + <p> + As she came out of her room Mysie met her. ‘Hurrah! Aunt Jane has got us a + holiday that we may help get ready for the G.F.S.! Mamma has sent down + notes to Miss Vincent and Mr. Pollock. Oh! jolly, jolly!’ + </p> + <p> + And, obvious of past offences, Mysie caught her cousin’s arms, and whirled + her round and round in an exulting dance, extremely unpleasant to so quiet + a personage. ‘Don’t!’ she cried. ‘You hurt! You make me dizzy!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My certie, Miss Mysie!’ exclaimed Mrs. Halfpenny at the same time, ‘ye’re + daft! Gae doon canny, and keep your apron on, for if I see a stain on that + clean dress—’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie hopped downstairs without waiting to hear the terrible + consequences.’ + </p> + <p> + Aunt Adeline did not come down to breakfast, but Aunt Jane appeared, fresh + and glowing, just in time for prayers, having been with Gillian and Harry + to survey the scene of operations, and to judge of the day, which + threatened showers, the grass being dank and sparkling with something more + than September dews. + </p> + <p> + ‘The tables must be in the coach-house,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘Happily, + our equipages are not on a large scale, and we must not get the poor + girls’ best things drenched.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No; and it is rather disheartening to have to address double ranks of + umbrellas,’ said Aunt Jane. ‘Is the post come?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is always infamously late here,’ said Harry. ‘We complained, as the + appointed hour is eight, but we were told ‘all the other ladies were + satisfied.’ I do believe they think no one not in business has a right to + wish for letters before nine.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Here it comes, though,’ said Gillian; and in due time the locked + letter-bag was delivered to Lady Merrifield, and Primrose waited eagerly + to act as postman. + </p> + <p> + It was not the day for the Indian mail, but Aunt Jane expected some last + directions, and Lady Merrifield the final intelligence as to the numbers + of each contingent of girls. Dolores was on the qui vive for a letter from + Maude Sefton, and devoured her aunt and the bag with her eyes. She was + quite sure that among the bundle of post-cards that were taken out there + was a letter. Also she saw her aunt give a little start, and put it aside, + and when she demanded. ‘Is there no letter for me?’ Lady Merrifield’s + answer was,’ None, my dear, from Miss Sefton.’ + </p> + <p> + Hot indignation glowed in Dolores’s cheeks and eyes, more especially as + she perceived a look pass between the two aunts. She sat swelling while + talk about the chances of rain was passing round her, the forecasts in the + paper, the cats washing their faces, the swallows flying low, the upshot + being that it might be fine, but that emergencies were to be prepared for. + All the time that Lady Merrifield was giving orders to children and + servants for the preparations, Dolores kept her station, and the instant + there was a vacant moment, she said fiercely— + </p> + <p> + ‘Aunt Lilias, I know there is a letter for me. Let me have it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Your father told me you might have letter from Miss Sefton, and there is + none from her,’ said Lady Merrifield, with a somewhat perplexed air. + </p> + <p> + ‘I may have letters from whom I choose.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, that is not the custom in general with girls of your age, and I + know your father would not wish it. Tell me, is there any one you have + reason to expect to hear from?’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores had an instinct that all the Mohuns were set against the person + she was thinking of, but she had an answer ready, true, but which would + serve her purpose. + </p> + <p> + ‘There was a person, Herr Muhlwausser, that father ordered some scientific + plates from—of microscopic zoophytes. He said he did not know + whether anything would come of it, but, in case it should, he gave my + address, and left me a cheque to pay him with. I have it in my desk + upstairs.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well, my dear,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘you shall have the letter + when it comes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The men are come, my lady, to put up the tables. Miss Mohun says will you + come down?’ came the information at that moment, sweeping away Aunt Lilias + and everybody else into the whirl of preparation; while Dolores remained, + feeling absolutely certain that a letter was being withheld from her, and + she stood on the garden steps burning with hot indignation, when Mysie, + armed with the key of the linen-press, flashed past her breathlessly, + exclaiming— + </p> + <p> + ‘Aren’t you coming down, Dolly? ‘Tis such fun! I’m come for some + table-cloths.’ + </p> + <p> + This didn’t stir Dolores, but presently Mysie returned again, followed by + Mrs. Halfpenny, grumbling that ‘A’ the bonnie napery that she had packed + and carried sae mony miles by sea and land should be waured on a wheen + silly feckless taupies that ‘tis the leddies’ wull to cocker up till not a + lass of ‘em will do a stroke of wark, nor gie a ceevil answer to her + elders.’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie, with a bundle of damask cloths under her arm, paused to repeat, + ‘Are you not coming Dolly? Your dear Miss Constance is there looking for + you?’ + </p> + <p> + This did move Dolores, and she followed to the coach-house, where + everybody was buzzing about like bees, the tables and forms being + arranged, and upon them dishes with piles of fruit and cakes, + contributions from other associates. All the vases, great and small, were + brought out, and raids were made on the flower garden to fill them. Little + scarlet flags, with the name of each parish in white, were placed to + direct the parties of guests to their places, and Harry, Macrae, and the + little groom were adorning the beams with festoons. The men from the + coffee-tavern supplied the essentials, but the ladies undertook the + decoration, and Aunt Adeline, in a basket-chair, with her feet on a box, + directed the ornamentation with great taste and ability. Constance Hacket + had been told off to make up a little bouquet to lay beside each plate, + and Dolores volunteered to help her. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, dearest, will you come to me on Sunday?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know. I have not been able to ask Aunt Lilias yet, and Gillian + was very cross about it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What did she say?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She said she did not think Aunt Lilias approved of visiting and gossiping + on Sunday.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! now. What does Gillian do herself?’ said Constance in a hurt voice. + ‘She does come and teach, certainly, but she stays ever so long talking + after the class is over. Why should we gossip more than she does?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes; but people’s own children can do no wrong.’ + </p> + <p> + There Constance became inattentive. Mr. Poulter had come up, and wanted to + be useful, so she jumped up with a handful of nosegays to instruct him in + laying them by each plate, leaving Dolores to herself, which she found + dull. The other two, however, came back again, and the work continued, but + the talk was entirely between the gentleman and lady, chiefly about music + for the choral society, and the voices of the singers, about which Dolores + neither knew nor cared. + </p> + <p> + By one o’clock the long tables were a pretty sight, covered with piles of + fruit and cakes, vases of flowers and little flags, establishments of + teacups at intervals, and a bouquet and pretty card at every one of the + plates. + </p> + <p> + Then came early dinner at the house, and such rest as could be had after + it, till the pony-chaise, waggonette, and Mrs. Blackburne’s carriage came + to the door to convey to church all whom they could carry, the rest + walking. + </p> + <p> + The church was a sea of neat round hats, mostly black, with a considerable + proportion of feathers, tufts, and flowers. On their dark dresses were + pinned rosettes of different-coloured ribbon, to show to which parish they + belonged. There was a bright, short service, in which the clear, high + voices of the multitudinous maidens quite overcame those of the choir + boys, and then an address, respecting which Constance pronounced that + ‘Canon Fremont was always so sweet,’ and Dolores assented, without in the + least knowing what it had been about. + </p> + <p> + Constance, who had driven down, was to have kept guard, in the walk from + church, over the white-rosed Silverton detachment; but another shower was + impending, and Miss Hacket, declaring that Conny must not get wet, rushed + up and packed her into the waggonette, where Dolores was climbing after, + when at a touch from Gillian, Lady Merrifield looked round. + </p> + <p> + ‘Dolores,’ she said, ‘you forget that Miss Hacket walked to church.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores turned on the step, her face looking as black as thunder, and Miss + Hacket protested that she was not tired, and could not leave her girls. + </p> + <p> + ‘Never mind the girls, I will look after them; I meant to walk. Don’t + stand on the step. Come down,’ she added sharply, but not in time, for the + horses gave a jerk, and, with a scream from Constance, down tumbled + Dolores, or would have tumbled, but that she was caught between her aunt + and Miss Hacket, who with one voice admonished her never to do that again, + for there was nothing more dangerous. Indeed, there was more anger in Lady + Merrifield’s tone than her niece had yet heard, and as there was no making + out that there was the least injury to the girl, she was forced to walk + home, in spite of all Miss Hacket’s protestations and refusals, which had + nearly ended in her exposing herself to the same peril as Dolores, only + that Lady Merrifield fairly pushed her in and shut the door on her. + Nothing would have compensated to Dolores but that her Constance should + have jumped out to accompany her and bewail her aunt’s cruelty, but + devotion did not reach to such an extent. Her aunt, however, said in a + tone that might be either apology or reproof— + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, I could not let poor Miss Hacket walk after all she has done and + with all she has to do today.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores vouchsafed no answer, but Aunt Jane said— + </p> + <p> + ‘All which applies doubly to you, Lily.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not a bit; I am not run about like all of you,’ she answered, brightly. + ‘Besides, it is such fun! I feel like Whit Monday at Beechcroft! Don’t you + remember the pink and blue glazed calico banners crowned with summer + snowballs? And the big drum? What a nice-looking set of girls! How + pleasant to see rosy, English faces tidily got up! They were rosy enough + in Ireland, but a great deal too picturesque. Now these are a sort of + flower of maidenhood—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are getting quite poetical, Lily.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s the effect of walking in procession—there’s something quite + exhilarating in it; ay, and of having a bit of old Beechcroft about me. Do + tell me who that lady is; I ought to know her, I’m sure! Oh, Miss Smith, + good morning. How many girls have you brought? Oh! the crimson rosettes, + are they? York and Lancaster?—indeed. I’m glad we have some shelter + for them; I’m afraid there is another shower. Have you no umbrella, my + dear? Come under mine.’ + </p> + <p> + It was a fierce scud of hail, hitting rather than wetting, but Dolores had + the satisfaction of declaring the edges of her dress to be damp and going + off to change it, though Aunt Jane pinched the kilting and said the damp + was imperceptible, and Wilfred muttered, ‘Made of sugar, only not so + sweet.’ + </p> + <p> + In fact, she hoped that Constance, who had told of her hatred to these + great functions and willingness to do anything to avoid them, would avail + herself of the excuse; but though the young lady must have seen her go, + she never attempted to follow; and Dolores, feeling her own room dull, + came down again to find the drawing-room empty, and on the next gleam of + sunshine, she decided on going to seek her friend. + </p> + <p> + What a hum and buzz pervaded the stable-yard! There was a coach-house with + all its great doors open, and the rows of girls awakening from their first + shy and hungry silence into laughter and talking. There were big urns and + fountains steaming, active hands filling cups, all the cousins, all their + congeners, and four or five clergymen acting as waiters, Aunt Adeline + pouring out tea a the upper table for any associate who had time to + swallow it, and Constance Hacket talking away to a sandy-haired curate, + without so much as seeing her friend! Only Wilfred, at sight of his cousin + again, getting up a violent mock cough, declaring that he thought she had + gone to bed with congealed lungs or else Brown Titus, as the old women + called it. His mother, however, heard the cough—which, indeed, was + too remarkable a sound not to attract any one—and with a short, + sharp word to him to take care, she put Dolores down under Aunt Ada’s + wing, and provided her with a lovely peach and a delicious Bath bun. + Constance just looked up and nodded, saying, ‘You dear little thing, I + couldn’t think what was become of you,’ and then went on with her sandy + curate, about—what was it?—Dolores know not, only that it + seemed very interesting, and she was left out of it. + </p> + <p> + Down came the rain, a hopeless downpour, and there was a consultation + among the elders, some laughing, some doubtful looks, and at last Harry, + with Macrae and one of the curates, disappeared. Then grace was sung, and + speeches followed—one by the rector, Mr. Leadbitter, fatherly and + prosy;—a paper read by the Branch Secretary, about affairs in + general; and a very amusing speech by Miss Mohun, full of anecdotes of + example and warning. ‘You know,’ she said, ‘all the school story-books end—when + the grown up books marry their people—with the good girl going out + to service under her young lady, and there she lives happy ever after! But + some of us know better! We don’t know how far the marrying ones always do + live very happy ever after—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For shame, Jenny!’ muttered Lady Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘But,’ went on Miss Mohun, ‘even you that have been lucky enough to get + under your own young ladies know that life here is all new beginnings at + the bottom, just as when you were very proud of yourselves for getting out + of the infant school, you found it was only being at the bottom of the + upper one; and I can tell the twelve-year-olds—I see some of them—that + it is often a finer thing to be at the head of the school than the last in + the house. Ay, you’ve got to work up there again, and it is a long + business and a steady business, but it is to be done. I knew a girl, + thirty-five years ago, that my sister-in-law took from school, and she was + not a genius either, and I am quite sure she could not do rule-of-three, + nor tell what is the capital of Dahomey, as I dare say every one here can + do, but I’ll tell you what she did, and that was, her best, and there she + has been ever since; and the last time I saw her was sitting up in her + housekeeper’s room, in her silk gown, with her master’s grandchildren + hanging about her, respected and loved by us all. And I knew another, a + much clever girl at school, with prettier ways to begin with, but—I’m + sorry to say, her finger were too clever, and it was not very happy ever + after, though she did right herself.’ And then Aunt Jane went on to the + difficulties of having to deal with such quantities of pots and pans, and + knives and forks, and cloths and brushes, each with a use of its very own, + just as if she had been a scullery-maid herself; telling how sense and + memory must be brought to bear on these things just as much as in + analyzing a sentence, and how even those would not do without the higher + motive of faithfulness to Him whose servants we all are. Her finish was a + picture of the roving servant girl, always saying, ‘I don’t like it,’ and + always seeking novelty, illustrated by her experience of a little maid who + left one place because she could not sleep alone, and another because the + little girl slept with her, a third because it was so lonesome, and a + fourth because it was so noisy, and quitted her fifth within a half year + because she could not eat twice cooked meat. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Jane varied her voice in the most comical way, and the girls, as well + as all her audience, laughed heartily. + </p> + <p> + ‘Bravo, Jenny!’ said a voice close to her, and a gentleman with a rather + bald head, a fluffy, light beard touched with white, dancing eyes, and a + slim, youthful figure, was seen standing in the group. + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield and her sisters cried with one glad voice, ‘Oh! + Rotherwood!’ holding out their hands. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes. I found I’d a few hours between the trains, so I ran down to look + you up. I met Harry at the house, and he told me I should find Jane + qualifying for the female parliament.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s such a pity you should fall on all this turmoil,’ said Aunt Ada. + </p> + <p> + ‘Pity! I wouldn’t have missed Jenny’s wisdom for the world. What is it, + Lily? Temperance, or have you set up a Salvation Army? + </p> + <p> + ‘G.F.S., of course, you Rotherwood of old! And now you are come, you shall + save me from what has been my bugbear for the last week. You shall give + the premiums.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Come, it’s no use making faces and pretending you know nothing about it,’ + added Miss Mohun. ‘I know very well that Florence is deep in it!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay, they’ll have you over to repeat that splendid harangue about pots and + pans!’ said he, bowing at Lady Merrifield’s introductions of him to the + bystanders, and obediently accepting the sheaf of envelopes, while Mr. + Leadbitter made it known that the premiums would be given by the Marquess + of Rotherwood. Certainly it was a much more lively business than if Lady + Merrifield had performed it, for he had something droll to observe to each + girl. One he pretended to envy, telling her he had worked hard for may a + year, and never got such a card as that for it—far less five + shillings. Another he was sure kept her pans bright, and always knew which + was which; a very little one was asked if she had gone from her cradle, + and so on, always sending them away with a broad smile, and professing + great respect for the three seven-year-card maidens who came up last. Then + in a concluding speech he demanded—where were the premiums for the + mistresses, who, he was quite sure, deserved them quite as much or more + than the maids! + </p> + <p> + While everybody was still laughing, Lady Merrifield asked Mr. Leadbitter + to explain that as it was still raining hard, she must ask all to adjourn + to the great loft over the stable, where they could enjoy themselves. Each + associate was to gather her own flock and bring them in order. Lady + Merrifield said she would lead the way, Lord Rotherwood coming with her, + picking up little Primrose in his arms to carry her upstairs to the loft. + </p> + <p> + Every one was moving. Dolores was among a crowd of strangers. She heard + them saying how delightful Lord Rotherwood was, and charming and handsome + and graceful Lady Merrifield, with her beautiful eyes. It worried Dolores, + who thought it rather foolish to be pretty, except in the case of + persecuted orphan, and, moreover, admiration of her aunt always seemed to + her disparagement of her mother. And where was Constance? + </p> + <p> + She followed the stream, and, climbing some stairs, came out into a large, + long, empty hay-loft, over what had once been hunting stables—the + children’s wet-day play-place. The deputation dispatched to the house had + managed to get up there the schoolroom piano, and one of the curates sat + down to it, and began playing dance music, while Miss Mohun, Miss Hacket, + and the other ladies began arranging couples for a country dance—all + girls, of course, except that Lord Rotherwood danced with the tiny premium + girl, and Harry with Primrose. Wilfred and Fergus could not be incited to + make the attempt; Mysie offered herself to Dolores, but in vain. ‘I hate + dancing,’ was all the answer she got, and she went off to persuade Lois, + the nursery girl. Constance Hacket arranged herself on a chair, and looked + out from between two curates; there was no getting at her. + </p> + <p> + Then there came a pause; Lord Rotherwood spoke to Gillian, and must have + asked her to point Dolores out, for presently he made his way to the + little dark figure in the window, and, kindly laying his hand on her + shoulder, asked whether she had heard from her father yet. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I suppose you can’t,’ he added. ‘It is a great break-up for you; but + you are a lucky girl to be taken in here! It reminds me of what Beechcroft + used to be to me when I was a stray fish, though not quite so lonely as + you are. Make the most of it, for there aren’t many in these days like + Aunt Lily there!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He little knows,’ thought Dolores, as a waltz began to be played. + </p> + <p> + ‘They want an example,’ he said. ‘Come along. You know how, I’m sure—a + Londoner like you!’ + </p> + <p> + Pairs were whirling about the floor in full career in a short time, to the + astonishment of other maidens who had never seen dancing in their lives. + Dolores, afraid to refuse, and certainly flattered, really was wonderfully + exhilarated and brightened by her career wither good-natured cousin. + </p> + <p> + ‘I do believe Cousin Rotherwood has shaken her out of the dumps,’ observed + Gillian to Aunt Jane, who returned— + </p> + <p> + ‘He can do it if any one can.’ + </p> + <p> + The funny thing was the effect upon Constance, who, in the next pause, + shook off her curates, advanced to Dolores, who was recovering her breath + under the window, called her a dear thing whom she had not been able to + get to all this time, sat rather forward with an arm round her waist for + the next half-hour, and, when Sir Roger de Coverley was getting up, + proposed that they should be partners, but not till she had seen Lord + Rotherwood pair himself off with Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘I must,’ said he to Lady Merrifield, ‘it’s so like dancing with honest + Phyl.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The greatest compliment you could have, Mysie,’ said her mother, looking + very much pleased. + </p> + <p> + The last yellow patches of evening sunshine on the sloping roof faded; + watches were looked at, the music turned to the National Anthem, everybody + stood up, or stood still, and sung it. Then at the close, Mr. Leadbitter + stood by the piano and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘One word more, my young friends. Some of you may have been surprised at + this evening’s amusement, but we want you to understand that there is no + harm in dancing itself, provided that the place, the manner, and the + companions are fit. I hope that you will all prove the truth of my words, + by not taking this pleasant evening as an excuse for running into places + of temptation. Now, good night, with many thanks to Lady Merrifield for + the happy day she has given us.’ + </p> + <p> + A voice added, ‘Three cheers for Lady Merrifield!’ and the G.F.S. showed + itself by no means backward in the matter of cheering. There was a hunting + up of ulsters and umbrellas; one associate after another got her flock + together, and clattered downstairs, either to get into vans, to walk to + the station, or to disperse to their homes in the town. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Lord Rotherwood had time to explain that he was on his way to + fetch his wife home from some German baths, where she had gone to recruit + after the season; and, as he meant to cross at night, had come to spend a + few hours with his cousin. There was still an hour to spare, during which + Lady Merrifield insisted that he must have more solid food than G.F.S. + provided. + </p> + <p> + ‘Lily,’ said Miss Mohun, as the elders walked to the house together, ‘it + strikes me that Rotherwood could satisfy your mind about that letter. He + would know the handwriting. You remember a certain brother—very much + in law—of Maurice’s?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have reason to do so,’ said Lord Rotherwood. ‘You don’t mean that he + has been troubling Lily?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No; but from the nature of the animal it is much to be apprehended that + he will,’ said Miss Mohun, ‘if he knows that the child is here.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘In fact,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘Jane has made me suppress, till + examination, a letter to her, in case it should be from him. It is a + horrid thing to do. What do you think, Rotherwood?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There should be no correspondence. Did not Maurice warn you? Then he + ought. Look here, Lily. His wife—under strong compulsion from the + fellow, I should think—begged me to find some employment for him. I + got him a secretaryship to our Board of—what d’ye call it? I’ll do + Maurice the justice to say that he was considerably cool about it; but the + end of it was that there was an unaccountable deficit, and my lady said it + served me right. I was a fool, as I always am, and gave way to the poor + woman about not bringing it home to him. And she insisted on making it up + to me by degrees—out of her literary work, I fancy—for I don’t + think Maurice knew the extent of the peculation. Ever since I’ve been + getting begging letters from the fellow at intervals. If he had the + impertinence to molest you, Lily, simply refer him to me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And if he writes to the child?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Return him the letter. Say she can have no such thing without her + father’s consent.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Is this a case in point?’ said Lady Merrifield, producing the letter. + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said he, holding it up in the waning light. ‘I know the fellow’s + fist too well! This is a gentleman’s hand.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What a relief!’ said Lady Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘Nay, don’t be in a hurry,’ said Miss Mohun. ‘Don’t give it to her + unopened. Your only safety is in maintaining your right to see all the + child’s letters, except what her father specified.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t you wish it was you, Brownie?’ asked her cousin. + </p> + <p> + ‘I hate it!’ said Lady Merrifield; ‘but I suppose I ought! However, + there’s no harm in this, that’s a comfort; it is simply that the gentleman + that the house is let to has found this note to her somewhere about, and + thinks she would wish to have it. I think it is her mother’s hand. How + nice of him!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, Lily, don’t go and be too apologetic,’ said Jane. ‘Assert your + right, or you’ll have it all over again.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Without Jenny to do prudence,’ said Lord Rotherwood, while Lady + Merrifield, hardly hearing either of them, hurried on in search of her + niece, but they would have been satisfied if they could have heard her. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, here’s your letter. I am so sorry to have been too much hindered + to look at it before. You must not mind, Dolly. I know it is very + disagreeable; but every one who has the care of precious articles like + young ladies is bound to look after them.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores took the letter with a kind of acknowledgement, but no more, for + its detention offended her, and she was aggrieved at the prospect of + future inspection, as another cruel stroke inflicted upon her. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Adeline was found in the drawing-room, where she had entertained such + ladies as were afraid of the damp, or who did not approve of the dancing, + and would not look on at it. Thence all went off to a merry meal, where + the elders plunged into old stories, and went on capping each others’ + recollections and making fun, to the extreme delight of the young folk, + who had often been entertained with tales of Beechcroft. Aunt Ada declared + that she had not laughed so much for ten years, and Aunt Jane declared + that it was too bad to lower their dignity and be so absurd before all + these young things. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s having four of the old set together!’ said Lord Rotherwood; ‘a + chance one doesn’t get every day. I wonder how soon Maurice and Phyllis + will meet.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It depends on whether the Zenobia touches at Auckland before going to the + Fijis,’ said Lady Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘There is at least a sort of neighbourhood between them,’ said Miss Mohun, + ‘though it may be about as close as between us and Sicily.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She is looking out for Maurice,’ said Aunt Ada. ‘She wrote, only it was + too late, to propose his bringing Dolores to be at least nearer to him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Just like Phyllis!’ ejaculated the marquess. ‘You have one of your flock + with something of her countenance, Lily.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am so glad you see it, Rotherwood. It is what I am always trying to + believe in, and I hope the likeness is a little within as well as without—but + we poor creatures who have been tumbled about the world get sophisticated, + and can’t attain to the sweet, blundering freshness of “Honest + Simplicity.”’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is a plant that must be spontaneous—can’t be grown to order.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘His lordship’s carriage at the door,’ announced Macrae. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, well! Trains must be caught, I suppose. I’m glad you’re settled here, + Lilias. I feel as if a sort of reflex of old Beechcroft were attainable + now.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I hope it won’t be a G.F.S. day next time you come!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, it was very jolly. I shall bring my child next time, if I can get her + out of the clutches of the governesses for a day, but it is a hard matter. + They look daggers at me if I put my head into the schoolroom.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You always were a dangerous element there, you know.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor dear Eleanor! What did I not make her go through! But she never went + the length of one of my lady’s governesses, who declared that she had as + much call to interfere in my stable, as I had with her schoolroom.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What mischief were you doing there?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, if you must know, I was enlivening a very dry and Cromwellian + abridgement with some of Lily’s old cavalier anecdotes, so Lily was at the + bottom of it, you see.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But did she fall on you then and there?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no. I trust my beard is too grey for that. But she looked at me with + impressive dignity such as neither poor little Fly nor I could stand, and + afterwards betook herself to Victoria, who, I am happy to say, sent her to + the right about.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘As I am about to do,’ said Lady Merrifield; ‘for if you don’t miss your + train, it will be by cruelty to animals. No, you’ve not got time to shake + hands with all that rabble. Be off with you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! I shall tell Victoria that if she sees me tomorrow it’s all owing to + your unpitying punctuality,’ said he, shaking himself into his overcoat. + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear old fellow!’ said Lady Merrifield, as she turned from the front + door, while he drove off. ‘He is like a gust of old Beechcroft air! But I + should think Victoria had a handful.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She knew what she was doing,’ said Aunt Ada. ‘I always thought she + married him for the sake of breaking him in.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And very well she has done it, too,’ returned Aunt Jane. ‘Only now and + then he gets a holiday, and then the real creature breaks out again. But + it is much better so. He would not have been of half so much good + otherwise.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield looked from one to the other, but said no more, for all + the young folks were round her; but every one was so much tired, children, + servants, and all, that prayers were read early, and all went to their + rooms. Yet, tired as she was, Lady Merrifield sat on in her sister Jane’s + room, in her dressing-gown, talking according to another revival of olden + time. + </p> + <p> + ‘What did Ada mean about Rotherwood? Isn’t he happy?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, very happy; and it is much the best thing that could have + happened. It is only another of the proofs that life is very long, + especially for men.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Come, now, tell me all about it. You don’t know how often I feel as if I + had been buried and dug up again.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There are things one can’t write about. Poor fellow! he never really + wanted to marry anybody but Phyllis.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No! you don’t mean it! I never knew it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, for you were in the utmost parts of the earth; and he was very good, + so that I don’t believe honest Phyl herself, or any one without eyes, + guessed it; but he had it all out with our father, who begged him, almost + on that allegiance he had always shown, to abstain from beginning about + it. You see, not only are they first cousins, but our mother and his + father both were consumptive, and there was dear Claude even then + regularly breaking down every winter, and Ada needing to be looked after + like a hothouse plan. I’m sure, when I think of the last generation of + Devereuxes, I wonder so many of us have been tough enough to weather the + dangerous age; and there had been an alarm or two about Rotherwood + himself. Well, he was very good, half from obedience, half from being + convinced that it would be a selfish thing, and especially from being + wholly convinced that Phyl’s feelings were not stirred. That was the way I + came to know about it, for papa took me out for a drive in the old gig to + ask what I thought about her heart, and I could truly and honestly say she + had never found it, cared for Rotherwood just as she did for Reggie, and + was not the sort to think whether a man was attentive to her. Besides, she + was eighteen, and he thirty-one, and she thought him venerable. I believe, + if he had asked her then, she might have taken him (because Cousin + Rotherwood wished it), but she would have had to fall in love in the + second place instead of the first. Well, he was very good, poor old + fellow, except that by way of taking himself off, and diverting his mind, + he went dear-stalking with such unnecessary vehemence that a Scotch mist + was very nearly the death of him, and he discovered that he had as many + lungs as other people. If you could only have seen our dear old father + then, how distressed and how guilty he felt, and how he used to watch + Phyllis, and examine Alethea and me as to whether she seemed more than + reasonably concerned for Rotherwood had come and hit the right nail on the + head he might have carried her off.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But he didn’t.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No; for, you see, he was ill enough to convince himself, as well as other + people, that he was a consumptive Devereux after all.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes! I remember the shock with which I heard like a doom that he was + going the way of the others; and hen he and the dear Claude came out in + his yacht to us at Gibraltar, and were so bright! We had a wonderful + little journey into Spain together, and how Jasper enjoyed it! Little did + I think I was never to see Claude here again. But it was true, was it not, + that all Rotherwood’s care gave the dear fellow much more comfort—perhaps + kept him longer?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sure it was so. Rotherwood soon got over his own attachment—the + missing an English winter was all he needed; but he would hear of nothing + but devoting himself to Claude. Papa and Claude were both uneasy at his + going off from all his cares and duties, but I believe—and Claude + knew it—that he actually could not settle down quietly while Phyllis + remained unmarried, and that having Claude to nurse and carry about from + climate was the comfort of his life. Or, I believe, dear Claude would have + been glad to have been left in peace to do what he could. Well, then + Phyllis and Ada went to stay in the Close with Emily, and Ada wrote + conscious letters and came home bridling and blushing about Captain May, + so that we were quite prepared for his turning up at Beechcroft, but not + at all for what I saw before he had been ten minutes in the house, that it + was Phyllis that he meant, and had meant all along! Dear Harry! it almost + made up for its not being Rotherwood. Well, poor Ada! It hadn’t gone too + deep, happily, and I opened her eyes in time to hinder any demonstration + that could have left pain and shame—at least, I think so; but poor + Ada has had too many little fits for one to have told much more than + another. I believe Phyl did tell Harry that he meant Ada, but she let + herself be convinced to the contrary; and the only objection I have to it + is his having taken that appointment at Auckland, and carried her out of + reach of any of us. However, it was better for Rotherwood, and when she + was gone, and his occupation over with our dear Claude, his mother was + always at him to let her see him married before she died. And so he let + her have her way. No, don’t look concerned. Lady Rotherwood is an + excellent, good woman, just the wife for him, and he knows it, and does as + she tells him most faithfully and gratefully. They are pattern-folk from + top to toe, and so is the boy. But the girl! He would have his way, and + named her Phyllis—Fly he calls her. She is a little skittish elf—Rotherwood + himself all over; and doesn’t he worship her! and doesn’t he think it a + holiday to carry her off to play pranks with! and isn’t he happy to get + amongst a good lot of us, and be his old self again!’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. — MY PERSECUTED UNCLE + </h2> + <p> + Dolores was allowed to go to Casement Cottage on Sunday. It was always + rather an awful thing to her to get through the paddock when the farmer’s + cattle turned out there. She did not mind it so much in the broad road and + in the midst of a large party, with Hal among them, and no dogs; but alone + with only one companion, and in the easy path which was the shortest way + to the cottage, she winced and trembled at the little black, shaggy Scotch + oxen, with white horns and faces that looked to her very wild and fierce. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Gillian, those creatures! Can’t we go the other way?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No; it is a great deal further round, and there’s no time. They won’t + hurt. The farmer engaged not to turn out anything vicious here.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But how can he be sure?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, don’t come if you don’t like it,’ said Gillian, impatiently. ‘It is + your own concern. I must go.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores did not like the notion of Constance being told that she would not + come because she was afraid of the oxen. She thought it very unkind of + Gillian, but she came, and kept carefully on the side furthest from the + formidable animals. And Gillian really was forbearing. She did make + allowances for the London-bred girl’s fears; and the only thing she did + was, that when one of the animals lifted up its head and looked, and + Dolores made a spring as if to run away, she caught the girl’s arm, + crying, ‘Don’t! That’s the very way to make him run after you.’ + </p> + <p> + They got safe out of the paddock at last, and rang at the door. They were + both kissed, Dolores with especial affectionateness, because the good + ladies pitied her so much; and then while Miss Hacket and Gillian went off + to their class, Constance took Dolores up into her own room, and began to + tell her how disappointed she was not to have seen more of her at the + Festival. + </p> + <p> + ‘But those curates would not let me alone. I was obliged to attend to + them.’ + </p> + <p> + And then she was very eager to know all about Lord Rotherwood, which + rather amazed Dolores, who had been in the habit of hearing her father + mention him as ‘that mad fellow Rotherwood,’ while her mother always spoke + with contempt of people who ran after lords and ladies, and had been heard + to say that Lord Rotherwood himself was well enough, but his wife was a + mere fine lady. + </p> + <p> + But Dolores had a matter on which she was very anxious. + </p> + <p> + ‘Connie, do they always read one’s letters first? I mean the old people, + like Aunt Lily.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What! has she been reading your letters?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She says she always shall, except father’s and Maude Sefton’s, because + papa spoke to her about that. She took a letter of mine the other day, and + never let me have it till the evening, and I am sure Aunt Jane put her up + to it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You poor darling!’ exclaimed Constance. ‘Was it anything you cared + about?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh no—not that—but there might be. And I want to know whether + she has the right.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I should not have thought Lady Merrifield would have been so like an old + schoolmistress. Miss Dormer always did, the old cat! where I went to + school,’ said Constance. ‘We did hate it so! She looked over every one’s + letters, except parents’, so that we never could have anything nice, + except by a chance or so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is tyranny,’ said Dolores, solemnly. ‘I do not see why one should + submit to it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We had dodges,’ continued Constance, warming with the history of her + school-days, and far too eager to talk to think of the harm she might be + doing to the younger girl. ‘Sometimes, when a lot of us went to a shop + with one of the governesses, one would slip out and post a letter. + Fraulein was so short-sighted, she never guessed. We used to call her the + jolly old Kafer. But Mademoiselle was very sharp. She once caught Alice + Bell, so that she had to make an excuse and say she had dropped something. + You see, she really had—the letter into the slit.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But that was an equivocation.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, you darling scrupulous, long-worded child! You aren’t like the girls + at Miss Dormer’s, only she drove us to it, you know. You’ll be horribly + shocked, but I’ll tell you what Louie Preston did. There was a young man + in the town whom she had met at a picnic in the holidays—a clerk, he + was, at the bank—and he used to put notes to her under the cushions + at church; but one unlucky Sunday, Louie had a cold and didn’t go, and she + told Mabel Blisset to bring it, and Mabel didn’t understand the right + place, and went poking about, so that Miss Dormer found it out, and there + was such a row!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Wasn’t that rather vulgar?’ said Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, he was only a clerk, but he was a duck of a man, with regular + auburn hair, you know. And he sang! We used to go to the Choral Society + concerts, and he sang ballads so beautifully, and always looked at Louie!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I should not care for anything of that sort,’ said Dolores. ‘I think it + is bad form.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So it is,’ said Constance, seriously, ‘only one can’t help recollecting + the fun of the thing, and what one was driven to in those days. Is there + any one you are anxious to correspond with?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not in particular, only I can’t bear to have Aunt Lilias meddling with my + letters; and there’s a poor uncle of mine that I know would not like her, + or any of the Mohuns, to see his letters. + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed! Your poor mamma’s brother?’ cried Constance, full of curiosity. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mind, it is in confidence. You must never tell any one.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Never. Oh, you may trust me!’ cried Constance. + </p> + <p> + ‘Her half-brother,’ said Dolores; and the girl proceeded to tell Constance + what she had told Maude Sefton about Mr. Flinders, and how her mother had + been used to assist him out of her own earnings, and how he had met her at + Exeter station, and was so disappointed to have missed her father. + Constance listened most eagerly, greatly delighted to have a secret + confided to her, and promising to keep it with all her might. + </p> + <p> + ‘And now,’ said Dolores, ‘what shall I do? If poor Uncle Alfred writes to + me, Aunt Lilias will have the letter and read it, and the Mohuns are all + so stuck up; they will despise him, and very likely she will never let me + have the letter.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, but, dear, couldn’t you write here, with my things, and tell him how + it is, and tell him to write under cover to me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear Connie! How good you are! Yes, that would be quite delightful!’ + </p> + <p> + All the confidences and all the caresses had, however, taken quite as long + as the G.F.S. class, and before Constance had cleared a space on the table + for Dolores’s letter, there was a summons to say that Gillian was ready to + go home. + </p> + <p> + ‘So early!’ said Constance. ‘I thought you would have had tea and stayed + to evening service.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I should like it so much,’ cried Dolores, remembering that it would spare + her the black oxen in the cross-path, as well as giving her the time with + her friend. + </p> + <p> + So they went down with the invitation, but Gillian replied that mamma + always liked to have all together for the Catechism, and that she could + not venture to leave Dolores without special permission. + </p> + <p> + ‘Quite right, my dear,’ said Miss Hacket. ‘Connie would be very sorry to + do anything against Lady Merrifield’s rules. We shall see you again in a + day or two.’ + </p> + <p> + And this is the way in which Constance kept her friend’s secret. When Miss + Hacket had done her further work with a G.F.S. young woman who needed + private instruction to prepare her for baptism, the two sisters sat down + to a leisurely tea before starting for evensong; in the first place, + Constance detailed all she had discovered as to the connection with Lord + Rotherwood, in which subject, it must be confessed, good Miss Hacket took + a lively interest, having never so closely encountered a live marquess, + ‘and so affable,’ she contended; upon which Constance declared that they + were all stuck-up, and were very unkind and hard to poor darling Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know. I cannot fancy dear Lady Merrifield being unkind to any + one, especially a dear girl as good as an orphan,’ said Miss Hacket, who, + if not the cleverest of women, was one of the best and most warm-hearted. + ‘And, indeed, Connie, I don’t think dear Gillian and Mysie feel at all + unkindly to their cousin.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! that’s just like you, Mary. You never see more than the outside, but + then I am in dear Dolly’s confidence.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What do you mean, Connie?’ said Miss Hacket, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + Constance had come home from school with the reputation of being much more + accomplished than her elder sister, who had grown up while her father was + a curate of very straitened means, and thus, though her junior, she was + thought wonderfully superior in discernment and everything else. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said Constance, ‘what do you think of Lady Merrifield sending her + to bed for staying late here that morning?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That was strict, certainly; but you know she sent Mysie too. It was all + my own thoughtlessness for detaining them,’ said the good elder sister. ‘I + was so grieved!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Constance, ‘it sounds all very well to say Mysie was treated + in the same way, but in the afternoon Mysie was allowed to go and make + messes with blackberry jam, while poor Dolly was kept shut up in the + schoolroom!’ + </p> + <p> + Constance did not like Lady Merrifield, who had unconsciously snubbed some + of her affectations, and nipped in the bud a flirtation with Harry, + besides calling off some of the curates to be helpful. But Miss Hacket + admired her neighbour as much as her sister would permit, and made answer— + </p> + <p> + ‘It is so hard to judge, my dear, without knowing all. Perhaps Mysie had + finished her lessons.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! I know you always are for Lady Merrifield! But what do you say, then, + to her prying into all that poor child’s correspondence?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, I think most people do think it advisable to have some check on + young girl’s letters. Perhaps Dolores’s father desired it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He never put on any restrictions,’ said Constance. ‘I am sure he never + would. Men don’t. It is always women, with their nasty, prying, tyrannous + instincts.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sure,’ returned Mary, ‘one would not think a child like Dolores + Mohun could have anything to conceal.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But she has!’ cried Constance. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, my dear! Impossible!’ exclaimed Miss Hacket, looking very much + shocked. ‘Why, she can’t be fourteen!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! it is nothing of that sort. Don’t think about that, Mary.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no, I know, Connie dear; you would never listen to any young girl’s + confidence of that kind—so improper and so vulgar,’ said Miss + Hacket, and Constance did not think it necessary to reveal her knowledge + of the post-office under the cushions at church, and other little affairs + of that sort. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is her uncle,’ said Constance. ‘Her mother, it seems, though quite a + lady, was the daughter of a professor, a very learned man, very + distinguished, and all that, but not a high family enough to please the + Mohuns, and they never were friendly with her, or treated her as an + equal.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That couldn’t have been Lady Merrifield,’ persevered Miss Hacket. ‘She + lamented to me herself that she had been out of England for so many years + that she had scarcely seen Mrs. Maurice Mohun.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, there were the Miss Mohuns and all the rest!’ said Constance. ‘Why, + Dolores has only once been at the family place. And her mother had a + brother, an author and a journalist, a very clever man, and the Mohuns + have always regularly persecuted him. He has been very unfortunate, and + Mrs. Maurice Mohun has done her utmost to help him, writing in periodicals + and giving the proceeds to him. Wasn’t that sweet? And now Dolores feels + quite cut off from him; and she is so fond of him, poor darling for her + mother’s sake.’ + </p> + <p> + Tender-hearted as Miss Hacket was, she had seen enough of life to have + some inkling of what being very unfortunate might sometimes mean. + </p> + <p> + ‘I should think,’ she said, ‘that Lady Merrifield would never withhold + from the child any letter it was proper she should have, especially from a + relation.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, but I tell you she did keep back a letter on the festival day till + she had looked at it. Poor Dolores saw it come, and she saw a glance pass + between her and Miss Mohun, and she is quite sure, she says, her Aunt Jane + had been poisoning her mind about this poor persecuted uncle, and that she + shall never be allowed to hear from him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t suppose there can be much for him to say to her,’ said Miss + Hacket. Then, after a little reflection, ‘Connie, my dear, I really think + you had better not interfere. There may be reasons that this poor child + knows nothing about for keeping her aloof from this uncle.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! but her mother helped him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She was his sister. That was quite another thing. Indeed, Connie,’ said + Miss Hacket, more earnestly, ‘I am quite sure that you will use your + influence—and you have a great deal of influence, you know—most + kindly by persuading this dear child to be happy with the Merrifields and + submit to their arrangements.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are infatuated with Lady Merrifield,’ muttered Constance. ‘Ah! how + little you know!’ + </p> + <p> + Here the first warning note of the bell ended the discussion, and + Constance did not think it necessary to tell her sister of the offer she + had made to Dolores. In her eyes, Mary, who was the eldest of the family, + had always been of the dull, grown-up, authoritative faction of the + elders, while she herself was still one of the sweet junior party, full of + antagonism to them, and ready to elude them in any way. Besides, she had + promised her darling Dolores; and the thing was quite romantic; nor could + any one call it blame-worthy, since it was nothing like a lover—not + even a young man, but only a persecuted uncle in distress. + </p> + <p> + So she awaited anxiously the next Sunday when Dolores’s letter was to be + written in her room. To tell the truth, Dolores could quite as easily have + written in her own, and brought down the letter in her pocket, if she had + been eager about the matter; but she was not, except under the influence + of making a grievance. She had never written to Uncle Alfred in her life, + nor he to her; and his visits to her mother had always led to something + uncomfortable. Nor would she have thought about the subject at all if it + had not been for the sore sense that she was cut off from him, as she + fancied, because he belonged to her mother. + </p> + <p> + Nothing particular had happened that week. There had been no very striking + offences one way or the other; she was working better with her lessons and + understanding more of Miss Vincent’s methods. She perceived that they were + thorough, and respected them accordingly, and she had had the great + satisfaction of getting more good marks for French and German than Mysie. + She had become interested in ‘The Old Oak Staircase,’ and began to look + forward to Aunt Lily’s readings as the best part of the day. But she had + not drawn in the least nearer to any of the family. She absolutely + disliked, almost hated, the quarter of an hour which Aunt Lily devoted to + her religious teaching every morning, though nobody was present, not even + Primrose. She nearly refused to learn, and said as badly as possible the + very small portions she was bidden to learn by heart, and she closed her + mind up against taking in the sense of the very short readings and her + aunt’s comments on them. It seemed to her to be treating her like a + Sunday-school child, and insulting her mother, who had never troubled her + in this manner. Her aunt said no word of reproach, except to insist on + attention and accuracy of repetition; but there came to be an unusual + gravity and gentleness about her in these lessons, as if she were keeping + a guard over herself, and often a greatly disappointed look, which + exasperated Dolores much more than a scolding. + </p> + <p> + Mysie had left off courting her cousin, finding that it only brought her + rebuffs, and went her own way as before, pleased and honoured when Gillian + would consort with her, but generally paring with her younger sister. + </p> + <p> + Dolores, though hitherto ungracious, missed her attentions, and decided + that they were ‘all falseness.’ Wilfred absolutely did tease and annoy her + whenever he could, Fergus imitated him, and Valetta enjoyed and abetted + him. These three had all been against her ever since the affair of the + arrow; but Wilfred had not many opportunities of tormenting her, for in + the house there was a perpetual quiet supervision and influence. Mrs. + Halfpenny was sure to detect traps in the passage, or bounces at the door. + Miss Vincent looked daggers if other people’s lesson books were interfered + with. Mamma had eyes all round, and nobody dared to tease or play tricks + in her presence. Hal, Gillian, and even Mysie always thwarted such amiable + acts as putting a dead wasp into a shoe, or snapping a book in the + reader’s face; while, as to venturing into the general family active + games, Dolores would have felt it like rushing into a corobboree of + savages! + </p> + <p> + There was one wet afternoon when they could not even get as far as to the + loft over the stables; at least the little ones could not have done so, + and it was decided that it would be very cruel to them for all the others + to run off, and leave them to Mrs. Halfpenny; so the plan was given up. + </p> + <p> + Partly because Lady Merrifield thought it very amiable in Mysie and + Valetta to make the sacrifice, and partly to disperse the thundercloud she + saw gathering on Wilfred’s brow, she not only consented to a magnificent + and extraordinary game at wolves and bears all over the house, but even + devoted herself to keeping Mrs. Halfpenny quiet by shutting herself into + the nursery to look over all the wardrobes, and decide what was to ‘go + down’ in the family, and what was to be given away, and what must be + absolutely renewed. It was an operation that Mrs. Halfpenny enjoyed so + much, that it warranted her to be deaf to shrieks and trampling, and + almost to forget the chances of gathers and kilting being torn out, and + trap-doors appearing in skirts and pinafores. + </p> + <p> + All that time Dolores sat hunched up in her own room, reading ‘Clare, or + No Home,’ and realizing the persecutions suffered by that afflicted child, + who had just been nearly drowned in rescuing her wickedest cousin, and was + being carried into her noble grandfather’s house, there to be recognized + by her golden hair being exactly the colour it was when she was a baby. + </p> + <p> + There were horrible growlings at times outside her door, and she bolted it + by way of precaution. Once there was a bounce against it, but Gillian’s + voice might be heard in the distance calling off the wolves. + </p> + <p> + Then came a lull. The wolves and bears had rushed up and down stairs till + they were quite exhausted and out of breath, especially as Primrose had + always been a cub, and gone in the arms of Hal or Gillian; Fergus at last + had rolled down three steps, and been caught by Wilfred, who, in his + character of bear, hugged and mauled him till his screams grew violent. + Harry had come to the rescue, and it was decided that there had been + enough of this, and that there should be a grand exhibition of tableaux + from the history of England in the dining-room, which of course mamma was + to guess, with the assistance of any one who was not required to act. + </p> + <p> + Mama, ever obliging, hastily condemned two or three sunburnt hats and + ancient pairs of shoes, to be added to the bundle for Miss Hacket’s + distribution, and let herself be hauled off to act audience. + </p> + <p> + ‘But where’s Dolly?’ she asked, as she looked at the assemblage on the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + ‘Bolted into her room, like a donkey,’ said Wilfred, the last clause under + his breath. + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed, mamma, we did ask her, and gave her the choice between wolves and + bears,’ said Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Unfortunately she is bear without choosing,’ said Gill. + </p> + <p> + ‘A sucking of her paws in a hollow tree,’ chimed in Hal. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hush! hush!’ said Lady Merrifield, looking pained; ‘perhaps the choice + seemed very terrible to a poor only child like that. We, who had the luck + to be one of many, don’t know what wild cats you may all seem to her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She never will play at anything,’ said Val. + </p> + <p> + ‘She doesn’t know how to,’ said Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘And won’t be taught,’ added Wilfred. + </p> + <p> + ‘But that’s very dreadful,’ exclaimed Lady Merrifield. ‘Fancy a poor child + of thirteen not knowing how to play. I shall go and dig her out!’ + </p> + <p> + So there came a gentle tap at the closed door, to which Dolores answered— + </p> + <p> + ‘Can’t you let me alone? Go away,’ thinking it a treacherous ruse of the + enemy to effect an entrance; but when her aunt said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Is there anything the matter, my dear? Won’t you let me in?’ she was + obliged to open it. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, there’s nothing the matter,’ she allowed. ‘Only I wanted them to let + me alone.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They have not been rude to you, I hope.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores was too much afraid of Wilfred to mention the bouncing, so she + allowed that no one had been rude to her, but she hated romping, which she + managed to say in the tone of a rebuke to her aunt for suffering it. + </p> + <p> + However, Aunt Lily only smiled and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! you have not been used to wholesome exercise in large families. I + dare say it seems formidable; but, my dear, you are looking quite pale. I + can’t allow you to stay stuffed up there, poking over a book all the + afternoon. It is very bad for you. We are going to have some historical + tableaux. They are to have one set, and I thought perhaps you and I would + get up some for them to guess in turn.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores was not in a mood to be pleased, but she did not quite dare to say + she did not choose to make herself ridiculous, and she knew there was + authority in the tone, so she followed and endured. + </p> + <p> + So they beheld Alfred watching the cakes before the bright grate in the + dining-room, and having his ears beautifully boxed. Also Knut and the + waves, which were graphically represented by letting the wind in under the + drugget, and pulling it up gradually over his feet, but these, Mysie + explained, were only for the little ones. Rollo and his substitute doing + homage to Charles the Simple, were much more effective; as Gillian in that + old military cloak of her father’s, which had seen as much service in the + play-room as in the field, stood and scowled at Wilfred in the crown and + mamma’s ermine mantle, being overthrown by Harry at his full height. + </p> + <p> + The excitement was immense when it was announced that mamma had a tableau + to represent with the help of Dolores, who was really warming a little to + the interest of the thing, and did not at all dislike being dressed up + with one of the boy’s caps with three ostrich feathers, to accompany her + aunt in hood and cloak, and be challenged by Hal, who had, together with + the bow and papa’s old regimental sword, been borrowed to personate the + robber of Hexham. Everybody screamed with ecstasy except Fergus, who + thought it very hard that he should not have been Prince Edward instead of + a stupid girl. + </p> + <p> + So, to content all parties, mama undertook to bring in as many as + possible, and a series from the life of Elizabeth Woodville was + accordingly arranged. + </p> + <p> + She stood under the oak, represented by the hall chandelier, with Fergus + and Primrose as her infant sons, and fascinated King Edward on the + rocking-horse, which was much too vivant, for it reared as perpendicularly + as it could, and then nearly descended on its nose, to mark the rider’s + feelings. + </p> + <p> + Then, with her hair let down, which was stipulated for, though, as she + observed, nothing would make it the right colour, she sat desolate on the + hearth, surrounded by as many daughters as could be spared from being + spectators, as her youngest son was born off from her maternal arms by a + being as like a cardinal as a Galway cloak, disposed tippet fashion, could + make him. + </p> + <p> + She could not be spared to put up her hair again before she had to forget + her maternal feelings and be mere audience, while her two sons were + smothered by Mysie and Dolores, converted into murderers one and two by + slouched hats. Fergus, a little afraid of being actually suffocated, began + to struggle, setting off Wilfred, and the adventure was having a + conclusion, which would have accounted for the authentic existence of + Perkin Warbeck, when—oh horror! there was a peal at the door-bell, + and before there was a moment for the general scurry, Herbert the + button-boy popped out of the pantry passage and admitted Mr. Leadbitter, + to whom, as a late sixth standard boy, he had a special allegiance, and, + having spied him coming, hurried to let him in out of the rain instantly. + </p> + <p> + At least, such was the charitable interpretation. Harry strongly suspected + that the imp had been a concealed spectator all the time, and had + particularly relished the mischief of the discomfiture, which, after all, + was much greater on the part of the Vicar than any one else, as he was a + rather stiff, old-fashioned gentleman. Lady Merrifield only laughed, said + she had been beguiled into wet day sports with the children, begged him to + excuse her for a moment or two, and tripped away, followed by Gillian to + help her, quickly reappearing in her lace cap as the graceful matron, even + before Mr. Leadbitter had quite done blushing and quoting to Harry + ‘desipere in loco,’ as he was assisted off with his dripping, shiny + waterproof. + </p> + <p> + After all no harm would have been done if—Harry and Gillian being + both off guard—Valetta had not exclaimed most unreasonably in her + disappointment— + </p> + <p> + ‘I knew the fun would be spoilt the instant Dolores came in for it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, Mr. Murderer, you squashed my little finger and all but smothered + me,’ cried Fergus, throwing himself on Dolores and dropping her down. + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t! don’t! you know you mustn’t,’ screamed valiant Mysie, flying to + the rescue. + </p> + <p> + ‘Murderers! Murderers must be done for,’ shouted Wilfred, falling upon + Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘You shan’t hurt my Mysie,’ bellowed Valetta, hurling herself upon + Wilfred. + </p> + <p> + And there they were all in a heap, when Gillian, summoned by the shrieks, + came down from helping her mother, pulled Valetta off Wilfred, Wilfred off + Mysie, Mysie off Fergus, and Fergus off Dolores, who was discovered at the + bottom with an angry, frightened face, and all her hair standing on end. + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you hurt, Dolores? I am very sorry,’ said Gillian. ‘It was very + naughty. Go up to the nursery, Fergus and Val, and be made fit to be + seen.’ + </p> + <p> + They obeyed, crestfallen. Dolores felt herself all over. It would have + been gratifying to have had some injury to complain of, but she had fallen + on the prince’s cushions, and there really was none. So she only said, + ‘No, I’m not hurt, though it is a wonder;’ and off she walked to bolt + herself into her own room again, there to brood on Valetta’s speech. + </p> + <p> + It worked up into a very telling and pathetic history for Constance’s + sympathizing ears on Sunday, especially as it turned out to be one of the + things not reported to mamma. + </p> + <p> + And on that day, Dolores, being reminded of it by her friend, sent a + letter to Mr. Flinders to the office of the paper for which he worked in + London, to tell him that if he wished to write to her as he had promised + he must address under cover to Miss Constance Hacket, Casement Cottage, as + otherwise Aunt Lilias would certainly read all his letters. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. — LETTERS + </h2> + <p> + Constance Hacket was very much excited about the address to Dolores’s + letter to her uncle. She had not noticed it at the moment that it was + written, but she did when she posted it; and the next time she could get + her young friend alone, she eagerly demanded what Mr. Flinders had to do + with the Many Tongues, and why her niece wrote to him at the office. + </p> + <p> + ‘He writes the criticisms,’ said Dolores, magnificently; for though she + despised pluming herself on any connection with a marquess, she did + greatly esteem that with the world of letters. ‘You know we are all + literary.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, I know! But what kind of criticisms do you mean? I suppose it is + a very clever paper?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course it it,’ said Dolores, ‘but I don’t think I ever saw it. Father + never takes in society papers. I believe he does criticisms on plays and + novels. I know he always has tickets for all the theatres and exhibitions. + </p> + <p> + She did not say how she did know it, for a pang smote her as she + remembered dimly a scene, when her father had forbidden her mother to + avail herself of escort thus obtained. Nor was she sure that the word all + was accurately the fact; but it was delightful to impress Constance, who + cried, ‘How perfectly delicious! I suppose he can get any article into his + paper!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, of course,’ said Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Did your dear mother write in it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No; it was not her line. She used to write metaphysical and scientific + articles in the first-class reviews and magazines, and the Many Tongues is + what they call a society paper, you know.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, I know. There are charming things about the Upper Ten Thousand. + They tell all that is going on, but I hardly ever can see one. Mary won’t + take in anything about Church Bells, and we get the Guardian when it is a + week old, and my brother James has done with it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear me! How dreadful!’ said Dolores, who had been used to see all manner + of papers come in as regularly as hot rolls. ‘Why, you never can know + anything! We didn’t take in society papers, because father does not care + for gossip or grandees. He has other pursuits. I can show you some of dear + mother’s articles. There’s one called ‘Unconscious Volition,’ and another + on the ‘Progress of Species.’ I’ll bring them down next time I come.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Have you read them?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No; they are too difficult. Mother was so very clever, you know.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She must have been,’ said Constance, with a sigh; ‘but how did she get + them published?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Sent them to the editor, of course,’ said Dolores. ‘They all knew her, + and were glad to get anything that she wrote.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! that is what it is to have an introduction,’ sighed Constance. + </p> + <p> + ‘What! have you written anything?’ cried Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Only a few little trifles,’ said Constance, modestly. ‘It is a great + secret, you know, a dead secret.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! I’ll keep it. I told you my secret, you know, so you might tell me + yours.’ + </p> + <p> + And so to Dolores were confided sundry verses and tales on which Constance + had been wont to spend a good deal of her time in that pretty + sitting-room. She had actually sent her manuscripts to magazines, but she + had heard no more of one, and the other had been returned declined with + thanks—all for want of an introduction. Dolores was delighted to + promise that as soon as she heard from Uncle Alfred, she would get him to + patronize them, and the reading occupied several Sunday afternoons. + Dolores suggested, however, that a goody-goody story about a choir-boy + lost in the snow would never do for the Many Tongues, and a far more + exciting one was taken up, called ‘The Waif of the Moorland,’ being the + story of a maiden, whom a wicked step-mother was suspected of murdering, + but who walked from time to time like the ‘Woman in White.’ There was only + too much time for the romance; for weeks passed and there was no answer + from Mr. Flinders. It was possible that he might have broken off his + connection with the paper, only then the letter would probably have been + returned; and the other alternative was less agreeable, that it was not + worth his while to write to his niece. While as to Maude Sefton, nothing + was heard of her. Were her letters intercepted? And so the winter side of + autumn set in. Hal was gone to Oxford, and there had been time for letters + to come from Mr. Mohun, posted from Auckland, New Zealand, where he had + made a halt with his sister, Mrs. Harry May, otherwise Aunt Phyllis. + Dolores was very much pleased to receive her letter, and to have it all to + herself; but, after all, she was somewhat disappointed in it, for there + was really nothing in it that might not have been proclaimed round the + breakfast-table, like the public letters from that quarter of the family + who were at Rawul Pindee. It told of deep-sea soundings and investigations + into the creatures at the bottom of the sea, of Portuguese men-of-war, and + albatrosses; and there were some orders to scientific-instrument makers + for her to send to them—a very improving letter, but a good deal + like a book of travels. Only at the end did the writer say, ‘I hope my + little daughter is happy among her cousins, and takes care to give her + aunt no trouble, and to profit by her kind care. Your three cousins here, + Mary, Lily, and Maggie, are exceedingly nice girls, and much interested + about you; indeed, they wish I had brought you with me.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores read her letter over and over and over, for the pleasure of having + something all to herself, and never communicated a word about the + miscroscopic monsters her father had described, but she drew her head back + and reflected, ‘He little knows,’ when he spoke of her being happy among + her cousins. + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield likewise received a letter, about which she did not say + much to her children, but Miss Mohun, who had had a much longer one, came + over for the day to read this to her sister. In point of fact, she had + paired in childhood with her brother Maurice. She had been his + correspondent in school and college days, and being a person never easily + rebuffed, she had kept up more intercourse with him and his wife than any + others of the family had done, and he had preserved the habit of writing + to her much more freely and unreservedly than to any one else. So the day + after the New Zealand letters came, just as the historical reading and + needlework were in full force, the schoolroom door was opened, and a brisk + little figure stood there in sealskin coat and hat. + </p> + <p> + Up jumped mamma. ‘Oh! Jenny! Brownie indeed! How did you come? You didn’t + walk from the station?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, why not? Otherwise I should have been too soon, and have disturbed + the lessons,’ said Aunt Jane, in the intervals of the greeting kisses. + ‘All well with the Indian folks?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes; they’ve come back from the emerald valleys of Cashmere, and + Alethea has actually sent me a primrose—just like an English one—that + they found growing there. They did enjoy it so. Have you heard from + Maurice?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, I thought you would like to hear about Phyllis, so, having enjoyed + it with Ada, I brought it over for further enjoyment with you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s a dear old Brownie! We’ve a good hour before dinner. Shall we read + it to the general public, or shall we adjourn to the drawing-room?’ + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I assure you it is very instructive. Quite as much so as Miss + Sewell’s ‘Rome.’” + </p> + <p> + And Aunt Jane, whom Gillian had aided in disrobing herself of her outdoor + garments, was installed by the fire, and unfolded a whole volume of thin, + mauve sheets in Mr. Mohun’s tiny Greek-looking handwriting. + </p> + <p> + It was a sort of journal of his voyage. There were all the same accounts + of the minute creatures that are incipient chalk, and their exquisite + cells, made, some of coral, some of silex spicule from sponges; the some + descriptions of phosphorescent animals, meduse, and the like, that Dolores + had thought her own special treasure and privilege, only a great deal + fuller, and with the scientific terms untranslated—indeed, Aunt Jane + had now and then to stop and explain, since she had always kept up with + the course of modern discovery. There was also much more about his + shipmates, with one or two of whom Mr. Mohun had evidently made great + friends. He told his sister a great deal about them, and his conversations + with them, whereas he had only told Dolores abut one little midshipman + getting into a scrape. Perhaps nothing else was to be expected, but it + made her feel the contrast between being treated with real confidence and + as a mere child, and it seemed to put her father further away from her + than ever. + </p> + <p> + Then came the conclusion, written on shore— + </p> + <p> + ‘Harry May came on board to take me home with him. He is a fine, genial + fellow and his welcome did one’s heart good. I never did him justice + before; but I see his good sense and superiority called into play out + here. Depend upon it, there’s nothing like going to the other end of the + world to teach the value of home ties.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well done, Maurice,’ exclaimed Lady Merrifield; but she glanced at + Dolores and checked herself. + </p> + <p> + Miss Mohun went on, ‘Phyllis met me at the door of a pleasant, + English-looking house, with all her tribe about her. She has the true + ‘honest Phyl’ face still, carrying me back over some thirty or forty years + of life, and as you would imagine, she is a capital mother, with all her + flock well in hand, and making themselves thoroughly useful in the + scarcity of servants; though the other matters do not seem neglected. The + eldest can talk like a well informed girl, and shows reasonable interest + in things in general; but Phyllis wants to put finishing touches to their + education, and her husband talks of throwing up his appointment before + long, as he is anxious to go home while his father lives. I wish I had + gone to Stoneborough before coming out here, now that I see what a + gratification it would have been if I could have brought a fresh report of + old Dr. May. (Somehow, I think there has been a numbness or obtuseness + about me all these last two years which hindered me from perceiving or + doing much that I now regret, since either the change or the wholesome + atmosphere of this house has wakened me as it were. Among these ungracious + omissions is what I now am much concerned to think of, that I never went + to see Lilias when I committed my child to her charge; nor talked over her + disposition. Not that I really understand it as I ought to have done when + the poor child was left to me. I take shame to myself when Phyllis + questions me about her), but as I watch these children with their parents + I am quite convinced that the being taken under Lily’s motherly wing is by + far the best thing that could have befallen Dolores, and that my absence + is for her real benefit as well as mine.’ + </p> + <p> + The part between brackets was omitted by Miss Mohun in the public reading, + but the last sentence she did read, thinking it good for both parties to + hear it. However, Dolores both disliked the conclusion to which her father + had come, and still more that her aunt and cousins should hear it, though, + after all, it was only Gillian and Mysie who remained to listen by the + time the end of the letter was reached. The long words had frightened away + Valetta as soon as her appointed task of work was finished. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lily did not see the omitted sentence till the two sisters were alone + together later in the afternoon. It filled her eyes with tears. ‘Poor + Maurice,’ she said; ‘he wrote something of the same kind to me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I expect we shall see him wonderfully shaken up and brightened when he + comes home. The numbness he talks of was half of it Mary’s dislike to us + all, only I never would let her keep me aloof from him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I almost wish he had taken Dolores out to Phyllis. I am not in the least + fulfilling his ideal towards her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nor would Phyllis, unless the voyage had had as much effect on her as it + seems to have had upon Maurice. So you don’t get on any better?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not a bit. It is a case of parallel lines. We don’t often have collisions—unless + Wilfred gets an opportunity of provoking her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why don’t you send that boy to school?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall after Christmas. He is quite well now, and to have him at home is + bad both for himself and the others. He needs licking into shape as only + boys can do to one another, and he is not a model for Fergus, especially + since Harry has been away.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What does he do?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nothing very brilliant, nor of the kind one half forgives for the + drollery of it. Putting mustard into the custard was the worst, I think; + inciting the dogs to bring the cattle down on the girls when they cross + the paddock; shutting up their books when the places are found—those + are the sort of things; putting that very life-like wild cat chauffe-pied + with glaring eyes in Dolly’s bed. I believe he does such things to all, + but his sisters would let him torture them rather than complain, whereas + Dolores does her best to bring them under my notice without actually + laying an information, which she is evidently afraid to do. It is very + unlucky that her coming should have been just when we had such an element + about—for it really gives her some just cause of complaint.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But you say he is impartial?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Teasing is unfortunately his delight. He will even frighten Primrose, but + I am afraid there is active dislike making Dolores his favourite victim; + and then Val and Fergus, who don’t tease actively on their own account, + have come to enjoy her discomfiture.’ + </p> + <p> + “And you go on the principle of ‘tolerer beaucoup?’” + </p> + <p> + ‘I do; hoping that it is not laziness and weakness that makes me abstain + from nagging about what is not brought before my eyes by the children or + the police—I mean Gill, Halfpenny, and Miss Vincent. Then I scold, + or I punish, and that I think maintains the principle, without danger to + truth or forbearance. At least, I hope it does. I am pretty sure that if I + punished Wilfred for every teasing trick I know, or guess at, he would—in + his present mood—only become deceitful, and esprit de corps might + make Val and Fergus the same, though I don’t think Mysie’s truth could be + shaken any more than honest Phyl’s.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Besides, mutual discipline is not a thing to upset. Lily, I revere you! I + never thought you were going to turn out such a sensible mother.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, you see, the difficulty is, that what may work for one’s own + children may not work for other people’s. And I confess I don’t understand + her persistent repulse of Mysie.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nor of you, the nasty little cat!’ said Aunt Jane, with a little fierce + shake of the head. + </p> + <p> + ‘I do understand that a little. I am too unlike Mary for her to stand + being mothered by me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There must be some other influence at work for this perverseness to keep + on so long. Tell me, did she take up with that very goosey girl, that Miss + Hacket?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes; she goes there every Sunday afternoon. It is the only thing the + poor child seem much to care about, and I don’t think there can be any + harm in it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Humph! the folly of girl is unfathomable! Oh! you may say what you like—you + who have thrown yourself into your daughters and kept them one with you. + You little know in your innocence the product of an ill-managed + boarding-school!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nay,’ said Lady Merrifield, a little hotly, ‘I do know that Miss Hacket + is one of the most excellent people in the world, a little tiresome and + borne, perhaps, but thoroughly good, and every inch a lady.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Granted, but that’s not the other one—Constance is her name? My + dear, I saw her goings on at the G.F.S. affair—If she had only been + a member, wouldn’t I have been at her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear Jenny, you always had more eyes to your share than other people.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And you think that being an old maid has not lessened their sharpness, + eh! Lily? Well, I can’t help it, but my notion is that the sweet Constance—whatever + her sister may be—is the boarding-school miss a little further + developed into sentiment and flirtation.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nay, but that would be so utterly uncongenial to a grave, reserved, + intellectual girl, brought up as Dolores has been.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t trust to that! Dolores is an interesting orphan, and the notice of + a grown-up young lady is so flattering that it carries off a great deal of + folly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, Jenny, I must think about it. I hope I have done no harm by + allowing the friendship—the only indulgence she has seemed to wish + for; and I am afraid checking it would only alienate he still more! Poor + Maurice, when he is trusting and hoping in vain!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Three year is a long time, Lily; and you have no had three months of her + yet—’ + </p> + <p> + The door opened at that moment for the afternoon tea, which was earlier + than usual, to follow of Miss Mohun’s reaching the station in time for her + train. Lady Merrifield was to drive her, and it was the turn of Dolores to + go out, so that she shared the refection instead of waiting for gouter. In + the midst the Miss Hackets were announced, and there were exclamations of + great joy at the sight of Miss Mohun; as she and Miss Hacket flew upon + each other, and to the very last moment, discussed the all-engrossing + subject of G.F.S. politics. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, while Miss Mohun was hurrying on her sealskin in her + sister’s room, she found an opportunity of saying, ‘Take care, Lily, I saw + a note pass between those two.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear Jenny, how could you? You were going on the whole time about + cards and premiums and associates. Oh! yes, I know a peacock or a lynx is + nothing to you, but how was it possible? Why, I was making talk to + Constance all along, and trying to make Dolly speak of her father’s + letter.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I might retort by talking of moles and bats! Did you never hear of the + London clergyman whose silver cream-jug, full of cream too, was abstracted + by the penitent Sunday school boy whom he was exhorting over his + breakfast-table?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t believe London curates have silver jugs or cream either!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A relic of past wealth, like St. Gregory’s one silver dish, and perhaps + it was milk. Well, to descend to particulars. It was done with a meaning + glance, as Dolores was helping her on with her cloud, and was instantly + disposed of in the pocket.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wonder what I ought to do about it,’ sighed Lady Merrifield, ‘If I had + seen it myself I should have no doubts. Oh! if Jasper were but here! And + yet it is hardly a thing to worry him about. It is most likely to be quite + innocent.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, then you can speak of the appearance of secrecy as bad manners. You + will have her all to yourself as you go home.’ + </p> + <p> + But when the aunts came downstairs, Dolores was not there. On being + called, she sent a voice down, over the balusters, that she was not going. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Jane shrugged her shoulders. There was barely time to reach the + train, so that it was impossible to do anything at the moment; but in the + Merrifield family bad manners and disrespect were never passed over, Sir + Jasper having made his wife very particular in that respect; and as soon + as she came home in the twilight, she looked into the school-room, but + Dolores was not there, and then into the drawing-room, where she was found + learning her lessons by firelight. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, why did you not go with your Aunt Jane and me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I did not want to go. It was so cold,’ said Dolores in a glum tone. + </p> + <p> + ‘Would it not have been kinder to have found that out sooner? If I had not + met the others in the paddock, and picked up Valetta, the chance would + have been missed, and you knew she wanted to go.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores knew it well enough. The reason she was in this room was that all + the returning party had fallen upon her; Wilfred had called her a dog in + the manger, and Gillian herself had not gainsayed him—but the + general indignation had only made her feel, ‘what a fuss about the + darling.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Another time, too,’ added Lady Merrifield, ‘remember that it would be + proper to come down and speak to me instead of shouting over the balusters + in that unmannerly way; without so much as taking leave of your Aunt Jane. + If she had not been almost late for her train, I should have insisted.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You might, and I should not have come if you had dragged me,’ thought, + but did not say, Dolores. She only stood looking dogged, and not + attempting the ‘I beg your pardon,’ for which her aunt was waiting. + </p> + <p> + ‘I think,’ said Lady Merrifield, gently, ‘that when you consider it a + little, you will see that it would be well to be more considerate and + gracious. And one thing more, my dear, I can have no passing of private + notes between you and Constance Hacket. You see a good deal of each other + openly, and such doings are very silly and missish, and have an underhand + appearance such as I am sure your father would not like.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores burst out with, ‘I didn’t,’ and as Primrose at this instant ran in + to help mamma take off her things, she turned on her heel and went away, + leaving Lady Merrifield trusting to a word never hitherto in that house + proved to be false, rather than to those glances of Aunt Jane, which had + been always held in the Mohun family to be a little too discerning and + ubiquitous to be always relied on; and it was a satisfactory recollection + that at the farewell moment when Miss Jane professed to have observed the + transaction, she had been heard saying, ‘Yes, it will never do to be too + slack in inquiring into antecedents, or the whole character of the society + will be given up,’ and with her black eyes fixed full upon Miss Hacket’s + face. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. — THE EVENING STAR + </h2> + <p> + ‘Oh, Connie dear, I had such a fright! Do you know you must never venture + to give me anything when any one is there—especially Aunt Jane. I am + sure it was her, she is always spying about?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, but dearest Dolly, I couldn’t tell that she would be there, and + when I got your letter I could not keep it back, you know, so I made Mary + come up and call on Lady Merrifield for the chance of being able to give + it to you—and I thought it was so lucky Miss Mohun was there, for + she and Mary were quite swallowed up in their dear G.F.S.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You don’t know Aunt Jane! And the worst of it is she always makes Aunt + Lilias twice as cross! I did get into such a row only because I didn’t + want to go driving with the two old aunts in the dark and cold, and be + scolded all the way there and back.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘When you had a letter to read too!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And then Aunt Lily said all manner of cross things about giving notes + between us. I was so glad I could say I didn’t, for you know I didn’t give + it to you, and it wasn’t between us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You cunning child!’ laughed Constance, rather amused at the sophistry. + </p> + <p> + ‘Besides,’ argued Dolores, ‘what right has she to interfere between my + uncle and my friends and me? + </p> + <p> + ‘You dear! Yes, it is all jealousy!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have heard—or I have read,’ said Dolores, ‘that when people ask + questions they have no right to put, it is quite fair to give them a + denial, or at least to go as near the wind as one can.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To be sure,’ assented Constance, ‘or one would not get on at all! But you + have no told me a word about your letters.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Father’s letter? Oh, he tells me a great deal about his voyage, and all + the funny creatures they get up with the dredge. I think he will be sure + to write a book about them, and make great discoveries. And now he is + staying with Aunt Phyllis in New Zealand, and he is thinking, poor father, + how well off I must be with Aunt Lilias. He little knows!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, but you could write to him, dearest!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He wouldn’t get the letter for so long. Besides, I don’t think I could + say anything he would care about. Gentlemen don’t, you know.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No! gentlemen can’t enter into our feelings, or know what it is to be + rubbed against and never appreciated. But your uncle! Was the letter from + him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes! And where do you think he is? At Darminster—editing a paper + there. It is called the Darminster Politician. He said he sent a copy + here.’ + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, I know; Mary and I could not think where it came from. It had a + piece of a story in it, and some poetry. I wonder if he would put in my + ‘Evening Star.’” + </p> + <p> + ‘You may read his letter if you like; you see he says he would run over to + see me if it were not for the dragons.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wish he could come and meet you here. It would be so romantic, but you + see Mary is half a dragon herself, and would be afraid of Lady Merrifield’—then, + reading the letter,—‘How droll! How clever! What a delightful man he + must be! How very strange that all your family should be so prejudiced + against him! I’ll tell you what, Dolores, I will write and subscribe for + the Darminster Politician my own self—I must see the rest of that + story—and then Mary can’t make any objection; I can’t stand never + seeing anything but Church Bells, and then you can read it too, darling.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, thank you, Connie. Then I shall have got him one subscriber, as he + asks me to do. I am afraid I shan’t get any more, for I thought Aunt Lily + was in a good humour yesterday, and I put one of the little advertisement + papers he sent out on the table, and she found it, and only said something + about wondering who had sent the advertisement of that paper that Mr. + Leadbitter didn’t approve of. She is so dreadfully fussy and particular. + She won’t let even Gillian read anything she hasn’t looked over, and she + doesn’t like anything that isn’t goody goody.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My poor darling! But couldn’t you write and get your uncle to look at + some of my poor little verses that have never seen the light?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I dare say I could,’ said Dolores, pleased to be able to patronize. ‘Oh, + but you must not write on both sides of the paper, I know, for father and + mother were always writing for the press.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, I’ll copy them out fresh! Here’s the ‘Evening Star.’ It was suggested + by the sound of the guns firing at the autumn manoevres; here’s the + ‘Bereaved Mother’s Address to her Infant:’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Sweet little bud of stainless white, + Thou’lt blossom in the garden of light.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘Mary thought that so sweet she asked Miss Mohun to send it to Friendly + Leaves, but she wouldn’t—Miss Mohun I mean; she said she didn’t + think they would accept it, and that the lines didn’t scan. Now I’m sure + its only Latin and Greek that scan! English rhymes, and doesn’t scan! + That’s the difference!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To be sure!’ said Dolores, ‘but Aunt Jane always does look out for what + nobody else cares about. Still I wouldn’t send the baby-verses to Uncle + Alfred, for they do sound a little bit goody, and the ‘Evening Star’ would + be better.’ + </p> + <p> + The verses were turned over and discussed until the summons came to tea, + poured out by kind old Miss Hacket, who had delighted in providing her + young guests with buttered toast and tea cakes. + </p> + <p> + Dolores went home quite exhilarated and unusually amiable. + </p> + <p> + Her letter to her father was finished the next day. It contained the + following information. + </p> + <p> + ‘Uncle Alfred is at Darminster. He is sub-editor to the Politician, the + Liberal county paper. I do not suppose Aunt Lilias will let me see him, + for she does not like anything that dear mother did. There is a childish + obsolete tone of mind here; I suppose it is because they have never lived + in London, and the children are all so young of their age, and so rude, + Wilfred most especially. Even Gillian, who is sixteen, likes quite + childish games, and Mysie, who is my age, is a mere child in tastes, and + no companion. I do wish I could have gone with you.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield wrote by the same mail, ‘Your Dolores is quite well, and + shows herself both clever and well taught. Miss Vincent thinks highly of + her abilities, and gets on with her better than any one else, except the + daughter of our late Vicar, for whom she has set up a strong girlish + friendship. She plainly has very deep affections, which are not readily + transferred to new claimants, but I feel sure that we shall get on in + time.’ + </p> + <p> + Miss Mohun wrote, ‘Lily and I enjoyed your letter together. Dolly looks + all the better for country life, though I am afraid she has not learnt to + relish it, nor to assimilate with the Merrifield children as I expected. I + don’t think Lily has quite fathomed her as yet, but ‘cela viendra’ with + patience, only mayhap not without a previous explosion. I fancy it takes a + long time for an only child to settle in among a large family. It was a + great pity you could not see Lily yourself. To my dismay I encountered + Flinders in the street at Darminster last week. I believe he is on the + staff of a paper there, happily Dolly does not know it, nor do I think he + knows where she is.’ + </p> + <p> + In another three weeks, Constance was in the utmost elation, for ‘On + hearing the cannonade of the Autumn Manoeuvres’ was in print, and Miss + Hacket was so much delighted that justice should be done to her sister’s + abilities, that she forgot Mr. Leadbitter’s disapproval, and ordered half + a dozen copies of the Politician for the present, and one for the future. + </p> + <p> + Dolores, walking home in the twilight, could not help showing Gillian, in + confidence, the precious slip, though it was almost too dark to read the + small type. + </p> + <p> + ‘Newspaper poetry, I thought that always was trumpery,’ said Gillian, + making a youthfully sweeping assertion. + </p> + <p> + ‘Many great poets have begun with a periodical press,’ said Dolores, + picking up a sentence which she had somewhere read. + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought you hated English poetry, Dolly! You always grumble at having + to learn it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, that is lessons.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Il Penseroso,’ for instance.” + </p> + <p> + ‘This is a very different thing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That it certainly is,’ said Gillian, beginning to read— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘How lovely mounts the evening star + Climbing the sunset skies afar.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘What a wonderful evening! Why, the evening star was going up backward!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You only want to make nonsense of it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is not I that make nonsense!’ said Gillian, ‘why, don’t you see, + Dolly, which way the sun and everything moves?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘This is the evening star,’ said Dolores, sulkily. ‘It was just rising.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I do believe you think it rises in the west.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You always see it there. You showed it to me only last Sunday.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you think it had just risen?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course the stars rise when the sun sets.’ + </p> + <p> + Gillian could hardly move for laughing. ‘My dear Dolores, you to be + daughter to a scientific man! Don’t you know that the stars are in the + sky, going on all the time, only we can’t see them till the sunlight is + gone?’ + </p> + <p> + But Dolores was too much offended to attend, and only grunted. She wanted + to get the cutting away from Gillian, but there was no doing so. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘The mist is rising o’er the mead, + With silver hiding grass and reed; + ‘Tis silent all, on hill and heath, + The evening winds, they hardly breathe; + What sudden breaks the silent charm, + The echo wakes with wild alarm. + With rapid, loud, and furious rattle, + Sure ‘tis the voice of deadly battle, + Bidding the rustic swain to fly + Before his country’s enemy.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘Did anybody ever hear of a sham fight in the evening?’ cried the + soldier’s daughter indignantly. ‘There, I can’t see any more of it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Give it to me, then.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are welcome! Where did it come from? Let me look. C.H. Oh, did + Constance Hacket write it? Nobody else could be so delicious, or so far + superior to Milton.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You knew it all the time, and that was the reason you made game of it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, indeed it was not, Dolores. I did not guess. You should have told me + at first.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You would have gone on about it all the same.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, indeed, I hope not. I did not mean to vex you; but how was I to know + it was so near your heart?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I ought to have known better than to have shown it to you! You are always + laughing at her and me all over the house—and now—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Come, Dolly. I never meant to hurt your feelings. I will promise not to + tell the others about it.’ + </p> + <p> + No answer. There was something hard and swelling in Dolores’s throat. + </p> + <p> + ‘Won’t that do?’ said Gillian. ‘You know I can’t say that I admire it, but + I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’ll take care the others don’t tease you about + it.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores made hardly any answer, but it was a sort of pacification, and + Gillian said not a word to the younger ones. Still she thought it no + breach of her promise, when they were all gone to bed, and she the sole + survivor, to tell her mother how inadvertently she had affronted Dolores + by cutting up the verses, before she knew whose they were. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sorry,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘Anything that tends to keep Dolores + aloof from us is a pity.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But, mama, I had no notion whose they were.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You saw that she was pleased with them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, but that was the more ridiculous. Fancy the evening star climbing up—up—you + know in the sunset!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Portentous, certainly! Yet still I wish you could have found it in your + heart to take advantage of any feeler towards sympathy.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How could I pretend to admire such stuff?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You need not pretend; but there are two ways of taking hold of a thing + without being untrue. If you had been a little wiser and more forbearing + you need not have given Dolores such a shock as would drive her in upon + herself. Depend upon it, the older you grow, the more dangerous you will + find it to begin by hitting the blots.’ + </p> + <p> + Gillian looked on in some curiosity when the next day good Miss Hacket, + enchanted with her dear Connie’s success, trotted up to display the lines + to Lady Merrifield, who on her side felt bound to set an example alike of + tenderness and sincerity, and was glad to be able to observe, ‘The lines + run very smoothly. This must be a great pleasure to her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed it is! Connie is so clever. I always say I can’t think where she + got it from; but we always tried to give her very advantage, and she was + quite a favourite pupil at Miss Dormer’s. Is not it a sweet idea, the + stillness of the evening broken by the sounds of battle, and then it + proving to be only our brave defenders?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ was the answer. ‘I have often thought of that, and of what it might + be to hear those volleys of musketry in earnest. It has made me very + thankful.’ + </p> + <p> + So Miss Hacket went away gratified, and Gillian owned that it would have + been useless to wound the good lady’s feelings by criticism, though her + mother made her understand that if her opinion had been asked, or Connie + herself had shown the verses, it would have been desirable to point out + the faults, in a kindly spirit. The wonder was, how they could have found + their way into the paper, and they were followed by more with the like + signature. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, the great sensational tale, ‘The Waif of the Moorland,’ was being + copied out of the books where it had been first written. Dolores had + sounded Mr. Flinders on the subject, and he had replied that he could + ensure its consideration by a publisher, but that her fair friend must be + aware that an untried author must be prepared for some risk. + </p> + <p> + Constance could hardly abstain from communicating her hopes to her sister; + but Mr. Leadbitter—to whom the poetry was duly shown—had given + such a character of the Darminster Politician that Miss Hacket besought + Constance to have no more to do with it. Besides, she was so entirely a + lady, and so conscientious, that all her tender blindness would not have + prevented her from being shocked at encouraging, or profiting by, a + surreptitious correspondence. + </p> + <p> + Constance declared that Mr. Leadbitter’s objection to the paper was merely + political, and her sister was too willing that she should be gratified to + protest any further. The copying had to be done in secret, since it was + impossible to confess the hopes founded on Mr. Flinders, and it therefore + lasted several weeks, each fresh portion being communicated to Dolores on + Sunday afternoons. There were at first a few scruples on Constance’s part + whether this were exactly a Sunday occupation; but Dolores pronounced that + ‘the Sabbatarian system was gone out,’ and after Constance had introduced + the ghostly double of her vanished waif walking in a surpliced procession, + she persuaded herself that there was a sufficient aroma of religion about + the story to bring it within the pale of Sunday books. + </p> + <p> + The days were shortening so that Lady Merrifield had doubts as to the + fitness of letting the girls return in the dark, but Gillian would have + been grieved to relinquish her class, and the matter was adjusted by the + two remaining till evensong, when there was sure to be sufficient escort + for them to come home with. + </p> + <p> + Therewith arrived the holidays and Jasper, whose age came between those of + Gillian and Mysie. Dolores had looked forward to his coming, for, by all + the laws of fiction, he was bound to be the champion of the orphan niece, + and finally to develop into her lover and hero. In ‘No Home,’ when Clare’s + aunt locked her up and fed her on bread and water for playing the piano + better than her spiteful cousin Augusta, Eric, the boy of the family, had + solaced her with cold pie and ice-creams drawn up in a basket by a cord + from the window. He had likewise forced from his cruel mother the locket + which proved Clare’s identity with the mourning countess’s golden-haired + grandchild and heiress, and he had finally been rewarded with her hand, + becoming in some mysterious manner Lord Eric. + </p> + <p> + Jasper, however, or Japs, as his family preferred to call him, proved to + be a big, shy boy, not at all delighted with the introduction of a + stranger among his sisters, neither golden-haired nor all-accomplished, + only making him feel his home invaded, and looking at him with her great + eyes. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is that girl here for good?’ he asked, when he found himself with Harry + and Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, of course,’ said the cousin, ‘while her father is away, and that is + for three years.’ + </p> + <p> + Jasper whistled. + </p> + <p> + ‘Aunt Ada said,’ added Gillian, ‘that if she got too tiresome, mamma had + Uncle Maurice’s leave to send her to school.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That would be no good to me,’ said Jasper, ‘for she would still be here + in the holidays.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Has she been getting worse?’ asked Harry. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I don’t know that she has,’ said Gillian, ‘except that she runs after + that Constance more than ever. But, I say, Jasper, mamma says she is + particularly anxious that there should be no teasing of her; and you can + hinder Wilfred better than anybody can. She wants her to be really at + home, and one—’ + </p> + <p> + But though Jasper was very fond both of mother and sister, he would not + stand a second-hand lecture, and broke in with an inquiry about chances of + rabbit-shooting. + </p> + <p> + Among his juniors he heard more opinions and more undisguised, when the + whole party had rushed out together to the stable-yard to inspect the + rabbits and other live-stock. + </p> + <p> + ‘And Dolly says you are a fright,’ sighed Mysie, condoling with a very + awkward-looking puppy which she was nursing. + </p> + <p> + ‘She! she thinks everything a fright!’ said Valetta. + </p> + <p> + ‘Except Constance,’ added Wilfred. + </p> + <p> + ‘Who is ugliest of all!’ politely chimed in Fergus. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Japs, she is such a nasty girl—Dolly, I mean!’ cried Valetta. + </p> + <p> + “You know you ought not to say ‘nasty,’” exclaimed Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, but she is!’ insisted Val. ‘She squashed a dear little ladybird, + and said it would sting!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She really thought it would,’ said Mysie. + </p> + <p> + At which the young barbarians shouted aloud with contempt, and Valetta + added. ‘She is afraid of everything—cows and dogs and frogs.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I got a whole match-box full of grasshoppers to shut up in her desk and + make her squall,’ said Wilfred, ‘only the girls went and turned them out.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It was so cruel to the poor grasshoppers,’ said Mysie. ‘One had his horn + broken, and dragged his leg.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What does she do?’ asked Jasper. + </p> + <p> + ‘She’s always cross,’ said Fergus. + </p> + <p> + ‘And she won’t play,’ added Valetta. ‘And never will lend us anything of + hers.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And she’s a regular sneak,’ said Wilfred. ‘She wants to tell of + everything—only we stopped that and she doesn’t dare now.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You see,’ said Mysie, gravely, ‘she has always lived alone and in London, + and that makes her horribly stupid about everything sensible. We thought + we should soon teach her to be nice; and mamma says we shall if we are + patient.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We’ll teach her, won’t we, Japs!’ said Wilfred, aside, in an ominous + voice. + </p> + <p> + ‘She is only thirteen,’ added Valetta, ‘and she pretends to be grown up, + and only to care for a grown-up young lady—that Constance Hacket.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ added Mysie, ‘only think—they write poetry!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What rot it must be!’ said Jasper. ‘There’s a man in my house that writes + poetry, and don’t they chaff him! And this must be ever so much worse.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, that it is,’ said Valetta. ‘I heard Mr. Poulter and Miss Vincent + laughing about it like anything.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But they get it put into print,’ said Mysie, still impressed. ‘Miss + Hacket brought it up to give to mamma, and there’s ever so much of it shut + up in the drawing-room blotting-book with the malachite knobs. I can’t + think why they laugh—I think it is very pretty. Old Miss Hacket read + me the one about “My Lost Dove.”’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mysie always will stick up for Dolores,’ said Valetta in a grumbling + voice. + </p> + <p> + ‘I always meant her to be my friend,’ said Mysie, disconsolately. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I’m glad she’s not,’ said Jasper. ‘What a sell it would have been + for me to find you chummy with a stupid, poetry-writing, good-for-nothing + girl like that, instead of my jolly old Mice!’ + </p> + <p> + And at that minute all Dolly’s slights were fully compensated for! + </p> + <p> + There was a lurking purpose in the boys’ minds that if Dolores would not + join in fun, yet still fun should be extracted from her. Jasper had + brought home a box of Japanese fireworks, and Wilfred, who was + superintending his unpacking, proposed to light the serpent and place it + in Dolores’s path as she was going up to bed; but Jasper was old enough to + reply that he would have no concern with anything so low and snobbish as + such a trick. In fact, there was in Jasper’s mind a decided line between + bullying and teasing, which did not exist as yet in Wilfred’s conscience. + And, altogether, Dolores was in a state of mind that made her stiff + letters to her father betray low spirits and discontent. + </p> + <p> + On Sunday, while waiting for the early dinner, Jasper and Mysie happened + to be together in the drawing-room, and Mysie took the opportunity of + showing her brother the different cuttings of poetry. The lines were + smooth, and some had a certain swing in them such as Mysie, with an + unformed taste, a love for Miss Hacket, and amazement that the words of a + familiar acquaintance of her own should appear in print, genuinely + admired. But the eyes of a youth exercised in ‘chaffing’ the productions + of one of his fellow ‘men’ were infinitely more critical. Besides, what + could be more shocking to the General’s son than the confusion between the + evening gun and the sham fight? And Mysie had been reduced to confusion + for not detecting the faults, and then pardoned in consideration of being + only a girl, by the time the gong summoned them to the Sunday roast beef. + </p> + <p> + The dinner over, the female part of the family, scampered headlong + upstairs, while Harry repaired with his mother to her room to talk over a + letter from his father respecting his plans on leaving Oxford. The other + boys hung about the hall, until Gillian and Dolores came down equipped for + walking. ‘Hollo, Gill! All right! Where’s Mysie? We’ll be off! Mysie! + Mice! Mouse! Val!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You must wait for them, Japs,’ said Gillian. ‘They are having their + dresses changed; and, don’t you remember, I always go to Miss Hacket’s.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Botheration! What for?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You know very well.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes. To help her to write touching verses about the sweet dead dove, + with voice and plumage soft as love, eh? Only, Gill, I’m afraid your + memory is failing, if you don’t know the evening gun from rifle practice.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nonsense! that’s no concern of mine,’ said Gillian, opening the front + door, very anxious to get Dolores away from hearing anything worse. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, that’s your modesty. Only such a conjunction could have produced such + a scene that the evening star came up backwards to look at it!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For shame, Jasper! How in the world did you get hold of that?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Too sweet a thing not to meet with universal fame,’ said Jasper, to whom + it was exquisite fun to assume that Gillian devoted her Sunday afternoons + to the concoction of such poetry with Constance Hacket, and thus to + revenge himself for his disgust and jealousy at having his favourite + companion and slave engrossed. Wilfred hopped about like an imp in + ecstasy, grinning in the face of Dolores, whom Gillian longed to free from + her tormentors. The shout was welcome, as Mysie and Valetta came tearing + down the drive after them. + </p> + <p> + ‘Japs! Japs! Oh, we couldn’t come before because nurse would make us take + off our Sunday serges. Come and let out the dogs. Mamma says we may see if + there are any nice fir cones in the plantation to gild for the + Christmas-tree.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And you won’t come?’ said Jasper. ‘The Muses must meet. What a poem you + will produce! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Hear I a cannon or a rifle, + That is an unessential trifle!’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘What nonsense boys do talk!’ said Gillian, turning her back on them with + regret; for much as she loved her class, she better loved a walk with + Jasper, and here was Dolores on her hands in a state of exasperation, + believing her to have broken her promise, and muttering, + </p> + <p> + ‘You set him on.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, indeed I never did! You know I promised.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There are plenty of ways of getting out of a promise.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Speak for yourself, Dolores.’ + </p> + <p> + There were ten minutes of offended silence, and then Gillian said, ‘This + is nonsense! You may believe me, I was sorry I laughed at the first verses + you showed me, and mamma said I ought not. We never spoke of it, but Miss + Hacket has been giving mamma all the poems, and Jasper must have got at + them. Don’t you see?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, you say so,’ said Dolores, sulkily. + </p> + <p> + ‘You don’t believe me!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You promised that your brothers should never hear of it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I promised for myself. I couldn’t promise for what was put into a + newspaper and trumpeted all over the place,’ said Gillian, really angry + now. + </p> + <p> + Dolores could not deny this, but she was hurt by the word trumpeted; and + besides, her own slippery behaviour was weakening her trust in other + people’s sincerity, and she only gave a kind of grunt; but Gillian, + recovering herself a little, and remembering her mother’s words, proceeded + to argue. ‘Besides, it was me whom Jasper meant to tease, not you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t care which it was. He is as bad as the rest of them!’ + </p> + <p> + Gillian attempted no more conciliation, and they arrived in silence at the + Casement Cottages, where Constance was awaiting her friend in the greatest + excitement; for she had despatched ‘The Waif of the Moorland’ to Mr. + Flinders in the course of the week, and had received a letter from him in + return, saying that a personal interview with the gifted authoress would + be desirable. + </p> + <p> + ‘And I do long to see him; don’t you, darling? + </p> + <p> + ‘It is very hard that he should be kept away from me,’ said Dolores, + trying to stir up some tender feelings. + </p> + <p> + ‘That it is, my poor sweet! I thought whether he could come to me for a + merely literary consultation without Mary’s knowing anything further about + it, and then we could contrive for you to come down and meet him; but + there are so many horrid prejudices that I suppose it would not be safe.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t see how I could come down here without the others. Aunt Lily + won’t let me come alone, and though it is holiday time, that is no good, + for those horrid boys are always about, and I see that Jasper is going to + be worse even than Wilfred. + </p> + <p> + Various ways and means were discussed, but no excuse seemed available for + either Constance’s going to Darminster, or for Mr. Flinders coming to + Silverton, without exciting suspicion. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. — SECRET EXPEDITION + </h2> + <p> + ‘The Christmas-tree! Oh, mamma, do let it be the Christmas-tree. It is + quite well. We’ve been to look at it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Christmas-trees have got so stale, Val,’ said Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘Rot!’ put in Jasper. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, please, please, mamma,’ implored Valetta, ‘please let it be the dear + old Christmas-tree! You said I should choose because it will be my + birthday.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There is no need to whine, Val; you shall have your tree.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m so glad!’ cried Mysie. ‘The dear old tree is best of all. I could + never get tired of it if I lived to be a hundred years old.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Such are institutions,’ said their mother. ‘I never heard of a + Christmas-tree till I was twice your age.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, mamma! How dreadful! What did you do?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose it is all very well for you kids,’ said Jasper, loftily, + putting his hands in his pockets. + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps something may be found interesting eve: to the high and mighty + elders,’ observed Lady Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! What, mamma?’ + </p> + <p> + Mamma, of course, only looked mysterious. + </p> + <p> + ‘And,’ added Val, ‘mayn’t we all go on a secret expedition and buy things + for it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We’ve all been saving up,’ added Mysie; ‘and everybody knows every single + thing in all the shop at Silverton.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Besides,’ added Gillian, ‘the sconces will none of them hold, and almost + all the golden globes got smashed in coming from Dublin, and one of the + birds has its head off, and another has lost its spun-glass tail, and + another its legs.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A bird of Paradise,’ said Lady Merrifield, laughing; ‘but wasn’t there a + tree at Malta decked with no apparatus at all?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, but Alley and Phyl can do anything!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I think we must ask Aunt Jane—-’ + </p> + <p> + There was a howl. ‘Oh, please, mamma, don’t let Aunt Jane get all the + things! We do so want to choose.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You impatient monsters! You haven’t heard me out, and you don’t deserve + it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, mamma, I beg your pardon!’ ‘Oh, mamma, please!’ ‘Oh, mamma, pray!’ + cried the most impatient howlers, dancing round her. + </p> + <p> + ‘What I was about to observe, before the interruption by the honourable + members, was, that we might perhaps ask Aunt Jane and Aunt Ada to receive + at luncheon a party of caterers for this same tree.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! oh! oh!’ ‘How delicious!’ ‘Hooray!’ ‘That’s what I call jolly fun!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And, mamma,’ added Gillian, ‘perhaps we might let Miss Hacket join. I + know she wants to get up something for a G.F.S. class; but mamma was + attending to Primrose, and the brothers burst in. + </p> + <p> + ‘There goes Gill, spoiling it all!’ exclaimed Wilfred. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s always the way,’ said Jasper. ‘Girls must puzzle everything up + with some philanthropic Great Fuss Society dodge.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sure, Jasper,’ said Gillian, ‘I don’t see why it should spoil + anything to make other people happy. I thought we were told to make feasts + not only for our own friends—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Gill’s getting just like old Miss Hacket,’ said Wilfred. + </p> + <p> + ‘Or sweet Constance,’ put in Jasper. ‘She’ll be writing poems next.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hush! hush! boys,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘I do not mean to interfere with + your pleasure, ‘but I had rather our discussions were not entirely + selfish. Suppose, Gillian, we walked down to Casement Cottages, and + consulted Miss Hacket.’ + </p> + <p> + This was done, in the company of all the little girls, for Miss Hacket’s + cats, doves, and gingerbread were highly popular; moreover, Dolores was + glad of a chance sight of Constance. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear,’ said Lady Merrifield, as Gillian walked beside her, ‘you must + be satisfied with giving Miss Hacket the reversion of our tree, and you + and Mysie can go and help her. It will not do to make these kind of works + a nuisance to your brothers.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I did not think Jasper would have been so selfish as to object,’ said + Gillian, almost tearfully. + </p> + <p> + ‘Remember that boys have a very short time at home, and cannot be expected + to care for these things like those who work in them,’ said Lady + Merrifield. ‘It will not make them do so, to bore them, and take away + their sense of home and liberty. At the same time, they must not expect to + have everything sacrificed to them, and so I shall make Jasper + understand.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You won’t scold him, mamma?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Can’t you, any of you, trust me, Gill?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! mamma! Only I didn’t want him to think. I wouldn’t do everything he + liked, except that I don’t want him to be unkind about those poor girls.’ + </p> + <p> + Miss Hacket was perfectly enraptured at the offer of the reversion of the + Christmas-tree and its trapping. Valetta’s birthday was on the 28th of + December and the tree was to be lighted on the ensuing evening for G.F.S. + Moreover, the party would go to Rockstone as soon as an appointment could + be made with Miss Mohun, to make selections at a great German fancy shop, + recently opened there, and in full glory; and the Hacket sisters were + invited to join the party, starting at a quarter to eight, and returning + at a few minutes after seven, the element of darkness at each end only + adding to the charm in the eyes of the children, and Valetta, with a + little leap, repeated that it would be a real secret expedition. + </p> + <p> + ‘Very secret indeed,’ said her mother, ‘considering how many it is known + to—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, but it is, mamma, for everybody has a secret from everybody.’ + </p> + <p> + The words made Constance and Dolores look round with a start from their + colloquy under the shade of the window-curtains, but no one was thinking + of them. Just as the plans were settled, Constance came forward, saying, + ‘Lady Merrifield, may I have dear Dolores to spend the day with me? We + neither of us wish to join your kind party to Rockstone, and we should so + enjoy being together.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I had much rather stay,’ added Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well,’ said Lady Merrifield, reflecting that her sisters would be + grateful for the diminution of the party, and that it would be easier to + keep the peace without Dolores. + </p> + <p> + The defection was hailed with joy by her cousins, though they were struck + dumb at her extraordinary taste in not liking shopping. + </p> + <p> + Jasper did look rather small when his mother assured him in private he + might have trusted her to see that he was not to be incommoded with + Gillian’s girls, and he only observed, in excuse for his murmurs, that it + made a man mad to see his sisters always off after some charity fad or + other. + </p> + <p> + “‘Always’ being a few hours once a week,” she said. + </p> + <p> + ‘Just when one wants her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here, my boy,’ she said, ‘you don’t want your sisters to be selfish, + useless, fine ladies—never doing any one any good. If they take up + good works, they can’t drop them entirely to wait on you. Gillian does + give up a great deal, and it would be kinder to forbear a little, and not + treat all she does as an injury to yourself.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I only meant to get a rise out of her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are quite welcome to do that, provided it is done in good nature. + Gill is quite sound stuff enough to be laughed at! But, I say, my Japs, I + should prefer your letting Dolores alone; she has not learned to be + laughed at yet, and has not come even to the stage for being taught to + bear it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She looks fit to turn the cream sour,’ observed Jasper. ‘I say, mamma, + you don’t want me to go on this shopping business, do you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not by any means, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + Happily, the chance of a day’s rabbit shooting presented itself at a + warren some miles off, and Harry undertook the care of Wilfred, who gave + his word of honour to obey implicitly and take no liberties with the guns. + Fergus would gladly have gone with them, but he was still young enough to + be sensible of the attractions of toy-shops. Only Primrose had to be left + to the nursery, and there was no need to waste pity on her, for on such an + occasion Mrs. Halfpenny would relax her mood, and lay herself out to be + agreeable, when she had exhausted her forebodings about her leddyship + making herself ill for a week gaun rampaging about with all the bairns, as + if she was no better than one herself. + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall let Miss Mohun do most of the rampaging, nurse; but, if it is + fine, will you take Miss Primrose into the town and let her choose her own + cards. I have given her a florin, and if you make the most of that for + her, she will be as happy as going with us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That I will, my leddy. Bairns is easy content when ye ken how to sort + ‘em.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And, nurse, I believe there will be a box from Sir Jasper at the station. + It may come home in the waggonette that takes us. Will you and Macrae get + it safe into the store-room, for I don’t want the children to see it too + soon?’ + </p> + <p> + There was nothing but satisfaction in the house on the morning of the + expedition. The untimely candle-light breakfast was only a fresh element + of delight, and so was the paling gas at the station, the round, red sun + peeping out through a yellow break between grey sky and greyer woods; the + meeting Miss Hacket in her fur cloak, the taking of the tickets, the + coughing of the train, the tumbling into one of the many empty carriages, + the triumphant start,—all seemed as fresh and delicious as if the + young people had never taken a journey before in all their lives. The fog + in the valleys, the sleepy villages, the half-roused stations, all gave + rise to exclamations, and nothing was regretted but that the windows would + get clouded over. + </p> + <p> + Even the waiting at the junction had its charms, for it was enlivened by a + supplementary breakfast on rolls and milk! and at a few minutes past + eleven the train was drawing up at Rockstone, and Aunt Jane, sealskins and + all, was beckoning from the platform, hurrying after the carriage as it + swept past, and holding out a hand to jump the party from the door. + </p> + <p> + There she was, ready to take them to the most charming and cheapest shops, + where the coins burning in those five pockets would go the furthest. Go in + a cab? No, I thank you, it is far more delightful to walk. So mamma and + Miss Hacket were stowed away in the despised vehicle, to make the + purchases that nobody cared about, or which were to be unseen and unknown + till the great day; while Aunt Jane undertook to guide the young people + through the town, for her house was at the other end of it securing the + Christmas-cards on the way, if nothin’ else. For, though all the cards and + gifts to mamma, and a good many besides, were of domestic manufacture, + some had to be purchased, and she knew, this wonderful woman, where to get + cards of former seasons at reduced prices to suit their youthful finances. + </p> + <p> + Considerable patience was requisite before all the choices were made, and + the balance cast between cards and presents, and Miss Mohun got her + quartette past all the shop windows, to the seaside villa, shut in by + tamarisks, which Aunt Adeline believed to be the only place that suited + her health. Mamma and Miss Hacket had already arrived, and filled the + little vestibule with parcels and boxes. + </p> + <p> + Then the early dinner! The aunts had anticipated their Christmas turkey + for that goodly company to help them eat it, but afterwards there was only + time for a mince pie all round; for more than half the work remained to be + done by all except mamma, who would stay and rest with Aunt Ada, having + finished all that could not be deputed. + </p> + <p> + However, first she had a conference in private with Aunt Jane, who + undertook therein to come to Silverton for Valetta’s birthday, and add + astonishment and mystery sufficient to satisfy such of the public as were + weary of Christmas-trees. She added, however, ‘You will think I am always + at you. Lily, but did you know that Flinders is living at Darminster?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No; but it is five and twenty miles off, and he has never troubled us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t be too secure. He is in connection with that low paper—the + Politician—which methinks, is the place where those remarkable poems + of Miss Constance’s have appeared.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Is it not the way of poetry of that calibre to see the light in county + papers?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘This seems to me of a lower calibre than is likely to get in without + private interest.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But to my certain knowledge the child has neither written to, nor heard + of the man all this time.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You don’t know what goes on with her bosom friend.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am certain Miss Hacket would connive at nothing underhand. Besides, I + have never seen any thing sly or deceitful in poor Dolores. She will not + make friends with us, that is all, and that may be our fault.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I only say, look out, you unsuspicious dame!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, Jenny, satisfy my curiosity as to how you know all this. I am sure I + never showed you those effusions. We have had trouble enough about them, + for the children cut them up in a way Dolores has never forgiven.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! Miss Hacket sent them to me, to ask if ‘Mollsey to her Babe’ and ‘The + Canary’ might not be passed on to Friendly Leaves. And as to Flinders, + when I went to the G.F.S. Conference at Darminster I met the man full in + the street, and, of course, I inquired afterwards how he came there. So + there’s nothing preternatural about it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is well you did not live two hundred years ago, or you would certainly + have been burnt for a witch.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘See what a witch I shall make on the 28th! But I hear those unfortunate + children dancing and prancing with impatience on the stairs. I must go, + before they have driven Ada distracted.’ + </p> + <p> + What would the two aunts have said, could they have seen Dolores and + Constance, at that moment partaking of the most elaborate meal the + Darminster refreshment-room could supply, at a little round marble table, + in company with Mr. Flinders! They had not been obliged to start nearly so + early as the other party, as the journey was much shorter, and with no + change of line, so they had quietly walked to the station by ten o’clock, + arrived at Darminster at half-past eleven, and have been met by the + personage whom Dolores recognized as Uncle Alfred. Constance was a little + disappointed not to see something more distinguished, and less flashy in + style, but he was so polite and complimentary, and made such touching + allusions to his misfortunes and his dear sister, that she soon began to + think him exceedingly interesting, and pitied him greatly when he said he + could not take them to his lodgings—they were not fit for his niece + or her friend, who had done him a kindness for which he could never be + sufficiently grateful, in affording him a glimpse of his dear sister’s + child. It made Dolores wince, for she never could bear the mention of her + mother, it was like touching a wound, and the old sensation of discomfort + and dislike to her uncle’s company began to grow over her again, now that + she was not struggling against Mohun opposition to her meeting him. He + lionized them about the town, but it was a foggy, drizzly day, one of + those when the fringe of sea-coast often enjoys finer weather than inland + places; the streets were very sloppy, and Dolores and Constance did not do + much beyond purchasing a few cards and some presents at a fancy shop, as + they had agreed to do, to serve as an excuse for their expedition in case + it could not be kept a secret, and most of the visit was made in the + waiting-room at the station, or walking up and down the platform. As to + the grand point, Mr. Flinders told Constance that her tale was talented + and striking, full of great excellence; she might hope for success equal + to Ouida’s—but that he had found it quite impossible to induce a + publisher to accept a work by an unknown author, unless she advanced + something. He could guarantee the return, but she must entrust him with + thirty pounds. Poor Constance! it was a fatal blow; she had not thirty + pounds in the world; she doubted if she could raise the sum, even by her + sister’s help. Then Mr. Flinders sighed, and thought that if he + represented the circumstances, the firm might be content with twenty—nay, + even fifteen. Constance cheered up a little. She did think she could make + up fifteen, after the 21st, when certain moneys became due, which she + shared with her sister. She would be left very bare all the spring—but + what was that to the return she was promised? Only Mr. Flinders impressed + on her the necessity of secrecy—even from her sister—since, he + said, if he were once known to have obtained such terms for a young + authoress, he should be besieged for ever! + </p> + <p> + ‘But, Uncle Alfred,’ said Dolores, ‘surely my father and mother, and all + the other people I have known, did not pay to get their things published.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear niece, you speak as one who has been with persons of high and + established fame—the literary aristocracy, in fact. The doors once + opened, Miss Hacket will, like them, make her own terms; but such doors, + like many others, are only to be opened by a silver key.’ + </p> + <p> + There were other particulars which he talked over with the authoress in a + promenade on the platform while Dolores was left in the waiting-room; but + afterwards he indulged his niece with a tete-a-tete, asking her father’s + address, and mourning over the length of time it would take to obtain an + answer from Fiji. Mr. Mohun had promised to help him, solemnly and kindly + promised, for the sake of her whom they had both loved so much, and here + he was, cut off and quite in extremity. Unfortunate as usual, through his + determined enemies, a company in which he had shares had collapsed, he was + penniless till his salary from the Politician became due in March. + Meanwhile, he should be expelled from his lodging and brought to ruin if + he could not raise a few pounds—even one. + </p> + <p> + Dolores had nearly two pounds in her purse. Her father had left her amply + provided, and she had not much opportunity of spending. She knew he had + seen the gold when she was shopping, and when she had paid for the + refreshments, which of course she had found she had to do. With some + hesitation she said, ‘If thirty shillings would be of any good to you—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, generous child, your dear mother’s own daughter! It will be the + saving of me temporarily! But among all your wealthy relatives, surely, + considering your father’s promise, you could obtain some advance until he + can be communicated with!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If he is still in New Zealand, we could telegraph, and hear directly. He + did not know how long he should be there, for the ship had something to be + done to it.’ + </p> + <p> + This did not suit Mr. Flinders. Such telegrams were very expensive, and it + was too uncertain whether Mr. Mohun would be at Auckland. Surely, Lady + Merrifield, whose husband was shaking the pagoda tree, would make an + advance if she knew the circumstances. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t think she would,’ said Dolores, ‘I don’t think they are very + rich. There is only one horse and one little pony, and my cousins have + such very tiny allowances.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Haughty and poor! Stuck up and skimping. Yes, I understand. But I am not + asking from her, only an advance, on your father’s promise, which he would + be certain to repay. Yes, quite certain! It is only a matter of time. It + would save me at the present moment from utter ruin and destruction that + would have broken your dear mother’s heart. Oh! Mary, what I lost in you.’ + Then, as perhaps he saw reflection on Dolores’s face, he added, ‘She is + gone, the only person who took an interest in me, so it matters the less, + and when you hear again of your unhappy uncle you will know what drove him—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If it was only an advance—I have a cheque,’ began Dolores. ‘If + seven pounds would do you any good—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It would be salvation!’ he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + ‘Father left it with me,’ pursued Dolores, considering, ‘in case Professor + Muhlwasser went on with his great book of coloured plates of microscopic + marine zoophytes, and sent it in. I was to keep this and pay with it—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! Muhlwasser! you need not trouble about him. I saw his death in the + paper a month ago.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then I really think I might send you the cheque, and write to my father + why I did so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! Dolly, I knew that your mother’s daughter could never desert me.’ + </p> + <p> + More followed of the same kind, tending to make Dolores feel that she was + doing a heroically generous thing, and stifling the lurking sense in her + mind that she had no right to dispose of her father’s money without his + consent. The December day began to close in, the gas was lighted, + Constance was seen disconsolately peeping out at the waiting-room door to + see whether the private conference were over. They joined her again, and + Mr. Flinders discoursed about the envy and jealousy of critics, and + success being only attained by getting into a certain clique, till she + began to look rather frightened; but reassured by the voluble list of + names and papers to which he assured her of recommendations. Then he began + to be complimentary, and she, to put on the silly tituppy kind of face and + tone wherewith she had talked to the curates at the festival. Dolores + began to find this very dull, and to feel neglected, perhaps also cross, + and doubts came across her whether she might not get into a dreadful + scrape about the money, which she certainly had no right to dispose of. + She at last broke in with, ‘Uncle Alfred, are you quite sure Professor + Muhlwasser is dead?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Bless your heart, child, he’s as dead as Harry the Eighth,’ said Mr. + Flinders in haste;’ died at Berlin, of fatty degeneration of the heart! + Well, as I was saying, Miss Constance—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But, uncle, I was thinking—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hush!’ as a couple of ladies and a whole train of nurses and children + invaded the waiting-room, ‘it won’t do to talk of such little matters in + public places, you know. Would you not like a cup of tea, Miss Constance. + Will you allow me to be your cavalier?’ + </p> + <p> + People were beginning to arrive in expectation of the coming train, and + talk was not possible in the throng; at least, Mr. Flinders did not make + it so. At last the train swept up, and he was hurrying to find places for + the ladies, when there was a moment’s glimpse of a handsome moustached + face at a smoking-carriage window. Dolores started, and had almost + exclaimed, ‘Uncle Reginald;’ but before the words were out of her mouth, + Mr. Flinders had drawn her on swiftly, among all the numbers of people + getting out and getting in, hurled her into a distant carriage, handed + Constance in after her, and muttering something about forgetting an + appointment, he vanished, without any of the arrangements about + foot-warmers that he had promised. + </p> + <p> + ‘Uncle Reginald!’ again exclaimed Dolores, ‘I am sure it was he!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh dear! What an escape!’ answered Constance, breathless with surprise, + and settling herself with disgust and difficulty next to a fat old farmer, + as three or four more people entered and jammed them close together. + </p> + <p> + ‘Who is he?’ she presently whispered. + </p> + <p> + ‘Colonel Mohun. His regiment is at Galway. I know he talked of getting + over this winter if he possibly could; but Aunt Lily went away before the + post was come in.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We shall have to take great care when we get out.’ + </p> + <p> + Here the train started, and conversation in undertones became impossible, + more especially as two of the farmers in the carriage were coming back + from the Smithfield Cattle Show, and were discussing the prize oxen with + all their might. It was very stuffy and close. Constance looked ineffably + fastidious and uncomfortable, and Dolores gazed at the clouded window, and + dull little lamp overhead, put in to enliven the deepening twilight. This + avoiding of Uncle Reginald brought more before her mind a sense of + wrong-doing than anything that had gone before. She was fond of this + uncle, who always made her father’s house his headquarters when in London, + and used to play with her when she was a small child, and always to take + her to the Zoological Gardens, till she declared she was too old to care + for such a childish show, and then he and her father both laughed at her + so much that she would never have forgiven anybody else; and she found he + enjoyed it for his own sake far more than she did. However, he always did + take her out for walks and sights that were sure to be amusing with him. + Father, too, was quite bright and alive when he was in the house, and thus + Dolores had nothing but pleasant associations connected with this uncle, + and had heard of the chances of his coming like a ray of light, though + without much hope, since the state of Ireland had prevented him from being + able even to run over to take leave of her father. And now he was come, + she must hide from him like a guilty thing! There was no spirit of + opposition against him in her mind, and thus she could feel that she was + doing something sad and strange. Moreover, she began to feel that her + promise about the cheque had been a rash one, and the echo of her father’s + voice came back on her, saying, ‘Surely, Mary, you know better than to + believe a word out of Flinders’s mouth.’ + </p> + <p> + But then she thought of her mother’s rare tears glistening in her eyes, + and the answer, ‘Poor Alfred! I cannot give him up. Everything has been + against him.’ + </p> + <p> + It was quite dark before Silverton was reached, at half-past five, with + three quarters of an hour to spare before the other travellers were + expected. Most of their fellow passengers had got out at previous + stations, so that Constance was able to open the door and jump out so + perilously before the train had quite stopped, that a porter caught her + with a sharp word of reproof. She grasped Dolores’s hand and scudded + across the platform, giving the return tickets almost before the collector + was ready. A cautious guard even exclaimed, ‘What’s those two young women + up to?’ but was answered at once, ‘They’re all right! That’s nought but + one of the old parson’s daughters, as have been out with a return to + Darminster.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A sweetheartin’?’ demanded one of the bystanders, and there was a laugh. + </p> + <p> + Constance heard the tones and vulgar laugh, though not the words, and she + was in such a panic as she hurried down the steps that she did not stop to + look out for a cab. The place was small, and they were not very plentiful + at any time, and she was mortally afraid, though she hardly knew why, of + being over-taken and questioned by Colonel Mohun, who might know his + niece, though he would not know her; but Dolores was tired, and had a + headache, and did not at all like the walk in the dirt, and fog, and dark, + after turning from the gas lit station. + </p> + <p> + ‘We were to have a cab, Constance.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We can’t,’ was the answer, still hurrying on. ‘He would come out upon + us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He is much more likely to overtake us this way!’ said Dolores, thinking + of her uncle’s long strides. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, we can’t turn back now!’ said Constance, getting almost into a run, + which lasted till they were past the paddock gate. Dolores, panting to + keep up with her, had half a mind to turn up there and go straight home; + but there might be any number of oxen in the way, and almost worse, she + might meet Jasper and Wilfred, or if Uncle Reginald overtook her, what + would he think? + </p> + <p> + The pair slackened their pace a little when they had satisfied themselves + that the break in the dark hedge beside them was the gate. They heard + wheels, and presently saw the lamps of a cab, bearing down, halt at the + gate they had left behind, and turn in. + </p> + <p> + ‘We should have been off first,’ said Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘If we could have got a cab in time?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘One can always get cabs.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! no, not at all for certain.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘This is a nasty, stupid, out-of-the-way place,’ said Dolores, wanting to + say something cross. + </p> + <p> + ‘It isn’t a vulgar place, full of traffic,’ returned Constance, equally + cross. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I never meant to walk home in this way! I’m sure my feet are wet. I + wish I had waited and gone with Uncle Regie.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, Dolly, what do you mean? You would not have it all betrayed?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve a great mind to tell Uncle Regie all about it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, Dolly! When you said so much about the Mohun pride and scorn of your + poor, dear uncle.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Uncle Regie is not proud. And he would know what to do.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But,’ cried Constance, in a fright, ‘you would never tell him! You + promised that it should be a secret, and I should be in such a dreadful + scrape with Lady Merrifield and Mary.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well! it was your doing, and you had all the pleasure of it, flourishing + about the platform with him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How can you be so disagreeable, Dolores, when you know it was all on + business. Though I do think he is the most interesting man I ever did + see.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Just because he flattered you.’ + </p> + <p> + However, there is no need to tell how many cross and quarrelsome things + the two tired friends said to each other. They were sitting on opposite + sides of the fire, one very gloomy, and the other very pettish, when the + waggonette stopped at the gate, to put out Miss Hacket and take up + Dolores. Hands pulled her up the step, and a hubbub of merry voices + received her in the dark. + </p> + <p> + ‘Good girl, not to keep us waiting.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Dolly, Dolly, Macrae says Uncle Regie’s come!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Dolly, it has been such fun!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Take care of my parcel!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, ha! you don’t know what is in there.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Here’s something under my feet!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! take care! ‘Tisn’t my—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hush, hush, Val—’ + </p> + <p> + And so it went on till on the steps was seen in full light among the boys, + Uncle Reginald, ready to lift every one out with a kiss.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ha! Dolly, is that you?’ he said, as they came into the hall. ‘I saw such + a likeness of you at one station that I was as near as possible jumping + out to speak to her. She had on just that fur tippet!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That comes of living in Ireland, Regie,’ said Aunt Lily. ‘Once in a shop + at Belfast, a lady darted up to me with “And it’s I that am glad to see + you, me dear. And how’s me sweet little god-daughter? Oh! and it isn’t + yourself. And aren’t you Mrs. Phelim O’Shaugnessy?’” And under cover of + this, Dolores retreated to her own room. She took off her things, and then + looked at the cheque. + </p> + <p> + Professor Muhlwasser was a clever German, always at work on science, + counting, in the most minute and accurate manner, such details as the rays + in a sea anemone’s tentacles, or the eggs in a shrimp’s roe. He was + engaged on a huge book, in numbers, of which Mr. Maurice Mohun had + promised to take two copies—but whereas extravagances upon peculiar + hobbies were apt not to be tolerated in the family, and it was really + uncertain whether the work would ever be completed, Mr. Mohun had + preferred leaving a cheque for the payment in his little daughter’s hand, + rather than entrust it to one of the brothers, who would have howled and + growled at such a waste of good money on such a subject. Thus he had told + Dolores to back the draft, get it changed, and send the amount by a postal + order to Germany, if the books and account should come, which he thought + very doubtful. + </p> + <p> + And now the professor was dead, Dolores looked at the cheque, and supposed + she could do as she pleased with it. Mother helped Uncle Alfred. Yes, but + mother earned all she sent him herself! Perhaps he would not ask again. + How much more he had talked to Constance than to herself. Dolly wished she + had not seen him to get into this difficulty. She was tired, cold, and + damp. Oh! if she had never gone, and not been half caught by Uncle Regie! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. — A HUNT + </h2> + <p> + Dolores was glad to recollect, when she awoke, that Uncle Reginald was in + the house. It was as if she had a friend of her own there who might enter + into all the ill-usage she suffered, and whom she could even consult about + Uncle Alfred, so far as she could do so without disclosing all the + underhand correspondence. She called doing so betraying Constance, but, in + truth, she shrank more from shocking him with what he might think very + wrong—since, after all, he belonged to that hard-hearted generation + of grown-up people who had no feeling nor understanding of one’s troubles. + </p> + <p> + As she went downstairs she was aware of an increasing hubbub, and + frequently looking over the balusters, perceived the top of Primrose’s + wavy head above the close-cropped one of Uncle Regie, as, with her mounted + on his shoulder, he careered round the hall, with a pack of others + vociferating behind him. + </p> + <p> + There was a lull, for Lady Merrifield came out of her room just as Dolores + had paused; Primrose was put down, the morning salutations took place, and + Dolores had her full share of them. She was even allowed to sit next her + uncle at breakfast; but her rasher of bacon had not been half eaten, + before she had perceived that, as to possessing him as she used to do at + home, he was just as much everybody else’s Uncle Regie as hers, for during + the time of their being stationed at Belfast, he had been so often with + them, that he was quite established as the prince of playfellows. + </p> + <p> + ‘Uncle Regie, will you have a crack at the rabbits tomorrow? Brown said we + might have a day, and we have been keeping it for you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Uncle Regie, the hounds meet at the Bugle this morning, won’t you come + and see them throw off?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, let me come too!’ ‘And me!’ ‘And me!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear children,’ exclaimed their mother, ‘I can’t have the whole tribe + of little ones and girls going galloping after your uncle. You will only + hinder him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no, Lily! the more Merrifields, the merrier the field. I’ll drill + them well. How far off is this Bugle?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not two miles over Furzy Common.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! not so far, Hal!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s nothing. Who is coming?’ + </p> + <p> + A general outbreak of ‘Me’s’ ensued, but mamma laid an embargo on + Primrose, who must stay at home and ‘help her,’ while Gillian looked + wistful and doubtful, knowing that more efficient help than the little + one’s might be desirable. + </p> + <p> + ‘You had better go, my dear,’ said her mother, ‘if you are not tired. I + don’t like to send Mysie and Val without some one to turn back with them + if your uncle and the boys want to go further.’ + </p> + <p> + But whereas it was not nearly time to start, Uncle Reginald was dragged + down to inspect all the live stock in the stable-yard, at their + feeding-time, and went off with Val and Primrose clinging to his hands, + and the general rabble surrounding him. + </p> + <p> + Nothing could have been more alien to Dolores’s taste than going out to a + meet on foot through mud and mire—she who hated the being driven out + to take a constitutional walk on the gravel road or the paved path! But + she had some hope that while all the others ran off madly, as was their + wont, she might secure a little rational conversation with Uncle Reginald. + So she came down in hat and ulster, and was rewarded with ‘That’s right, + Doll; I’m glad to see they have taught you to take country walks.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is all compliment to you, Uncle Regie,’ said Gillian. ‘She hates them + generally.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Are we all ready? Where are Japs and Will?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Gone to shut up the dogs; and Hal is not coming.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Beneath his dignity, eh?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I think he has some reading to do,’ said Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now mind, Reginald,’ said Aunt Lily, coming on the scene, ‘you are not to + let those imps drag you farther than you like. It is a very different + thing, remember, children, from going out with the hounds like a + gentleman.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, mamma,’ returned Fergus. ‘If you would only let me have the pony!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And send home the girls as soon as you find them in the way,’ she added. + </p> + <p> + ‘All right,’ answered he, and off plunged the party; but Dolores soon + found that she was not to be allowed much of Uncle Reginald’s exclusive + society. He did begin talking to her about her father’s voyage, last + letters, and intended departure from Auckland, but Valetta kept fast hold + of his other hand, and the others were all round, every moment pointing + out something—to them noticeable—and telling the story of some + exploit, delighted when their uncle capped it with some boyish tales of + Beechcroft, or with some droll, Irish story. + </p> + <p> + With such talk, the strong, healthy young folk little heeded the surface + mud or the lanes. Even Dolores when she heard her father’s name in the + reminiscences,’ was interested for a time, and was always hoping that the + others would fly off and leave her to her uncle; but she was much less + used to country mud and stout boots than the others, and she had been very + much tired by her expedition on the previous day, so that she had begun to + find the way very long before they came out on an open green, with a few + cottages standing a good way back in their gardens, and as their centre, + one of the great old coaching inns of past days, now chiefly farmhouse, + though a sign, bearing a golden bugle-horn upon a blue ground, stood aloft + in front of it, over the heads of the speckled mass of tan, black, and + white, pervaded with curved tails, over which the scarlet-coated whips + kept guard, while shining horses, bearing red coats and black coats, boys, + and a few ladies, were moving about, and carriages drew up from time to + time. + </p> + <p> + There was a long standing about, and Colonel Mohun, being a stranger there + himself, kept his flock on the outskirts, only Jasper plunging in, at + sight of a mounted schoolfellow, while Gillian and Mysie told the names of + the few they recognized. At last there was a move, and Jasper came back to + point out the wood they were going to draw, close at hand. Should they not + all go on and see it? + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! let us! do come, Uncle Regie,’ cried Mysie and Val. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here, Gill,’ said the uncle, ‘this child doesn’t look fit to go any + farther.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m very tired, and so cold,’ said Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Gillian, ‘we ought to go home now.’ + </p> + <p> + Not me! not me;’ cried the other two girls; ‘Uncle Regie will take care of + us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I think you must come,’ said Gillian, ‘mamma said you had better come + home when I do.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Wilfred, ‘we don’t want a pack of girls to go and get tired.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We shall go into all sorts of places not fit for you,’ said Jasper; ‘you + wouldn’t come back with a whole petticoat among you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And Val would be left stodged in a ditch for a month of Sundays,’ added + Wilfred. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am afraid we had better part company, Gill,’ said the colonel. ‘I would + take you on a little further, but this poor little Londoner won’t have a + leg to stand upon by the time she gets home.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘More shame for her to come out to spoil our fun,’ muttered Valetta, too + low for her uncle to hear. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma will think we have gone quite far enough, thank you, uncle,’ said + the sage Gillian, ‘and I think Fergus had better come too.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That he had,’ said Jasper. ‘Fancy him over Peat Hill.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He’ll be left behind to be picked up as we come back,’ said Wilfred. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no, no! I can keep up better than you can, Wil! Take me, Uncle + Regie.’ The little boy was so near a howl that good-natured Colonel + Mohun’s heart was touched, and he consented to let him come on, though + Jasper argued, ‘You’ll have to carry him, uncle.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I’ll make you, master! Tell your mother not to wait luncheon for us, + Gillian; we’ll pick up something somewhere.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hurrah!’ cried Wilfred and Fergus, to whom this was an immense additional + pleasure. + </p> + <p> + The girls turned away into the lane, Valetta indulging in an outrageous + grumble. ‘Why should Dolores have come out to spoil everything?’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores did not speak. + </p> + <p> + ‘Just our one chance,’ sighed Mysie, ‘and perhaps we should have seen the + fox.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We may do that yet,’ said Gillian; ‘he may come this way.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t care if he does,’ said Valetta. ‘I wanted to see them draw the + copse. I believe Dolores did it on purpose to spoil our pleasure.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t be so cross, Val,’ said Mysie. ‘She can’t help being tired.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why did she come, then, when nobody wanted her?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For shame, Val,’ said Gillian, ‘you know mamma would be very angry to + hear you say anything so unkind.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s quite true, though,’ muttered Valetta. + </p> + <p> + ‘Never mind, Dolly, dear,’ said Mysie, shocked. ‘Val doesn’t really mean + it, you know.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, she does,’ said Dolores, shaking her comforter off; ‘you all do! I + wish I had never come here.’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie tried in her own persevering way to argue again that Val was only + put out, and disappointed at having to turn back, to which Valetta, in + spite of Gillian’s endeavour to silence her, added, ‘So stupid of her to + come out! What did she do it for?’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores, who hardly ever cried, was tired into crying now. ‘You grudge me + everything; you wouldn’t let me speak one single word to Uncle Regie, and + kept bothering about! I’ll never do anything with you again! I won’t.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you want to speak to Uncle Regie?’ asked Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘To be sure I did! He is my uncle, that I knew ever so long before you + did, and you never let him speak to me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mrs. Halfpenny always put us on the high chair, with our faces to the + wall when we were jealous,’ remarked Valetta. + </p> + <p> + ‘But did you want to say anything to him in particular?’ said Mysie, + revolving means of contriving a private interview. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s no business of yours! I wish you would let me alone!’ broke out + Dolores, in a fretful fright lest any one should guess that she had + anything on her mind. + </p> + <p> + ‘To make up stories of us, of course,’ growled Valetta, but Gillian here + interposed, declaring with authority that if she heard another word before + they reached the paddock gate, she should certainly tell mother how + disgracefully they had been behaving. When Gillian said such things she + kept her word. Besides, by way of precaution, she marched down the muddy + middle of the road, with Dolores limping along the footpath on one side, + and Val as far off as possible on the border of the ditch, on the other; + the more inoffensive Mysie keeping by her side. They were all weary, and + Dolores was very footsore also, by the time they reached home, at the very + moment that the two Misses Hacket appeared coming up the drive. Lady + Merrifield, having the day before invited the elder, as the purchases + needed to be looked over, and preparations set in hand, and she did not + then know that her brother was coming. + </p> + <p> + Dolores scarcely knew whether she was glad to see Constance. She had many + doubts and qualms about that cheque. And if she had spent any quiet time + alone with her uncle, she might have laid enough of her trouble before him + to get some advice or help; but to ask for an interview, especially when + ‘everybody’ thought it was to make complaints, was too uncomfortable and + alarming; and she was inclined to escape from thought of the whole subject + altogether by taking action quickly. + </p> + <p> + Gillian gave her uncle’s message about not waiting; the dirty boots were + taken off in the hall, and Constance followed her friend up to her room to + take off her things. + </p> + <p> + Dolores sat on the side of her bed, too much tired at first to be willing + to move, Constance’s pity elicited tears, and that they had all been so + very unkind to her; they were angry at her getting tired, and they were + jealous of her even speaking to Uncle Regie. Again this alarmed Constance, + ‘You weren’t going to tell him about Mr. Flinders—you know you + promised.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He knows about him already, and he would tell me what to do.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! but that would never do, darling Dolly. You told me all the family + were hard and unjust, and he would tell Lady Merrifield, and we should + never be allowed to see each other again. And only think of my poor little + secret! I didn’t think you would have turned from your poor relation in + misfortune for the sake of this grand Colonel.’ + </p> + <p> + The end of it was, that just as the gong was sounding, Dolores handed over + to Constance an envelope directed to Mr. Flinders, and containing Mr. + Maurice Mohun’s cheque. It was off her mind now, she thought, as she + shuffled down to dinner, lookup so pale and uneasy that her aunt made her + have a glass of wine and some gravy soup to begin with, and, when dinner + was over, turned all the parcels off the school-room sofa, and made her + lie upon it during the grand unpacking, which was almost as charming as + the purchasing, perhaps more so, since there was no comparison with + costlier articles. + </p> + <p> + There was not very much time. This was Friday and Christmas Day was on + Monday, so there were only two more clear week-days before the birthday + and Miss Hacket would be church-decorating on the morrow; but Lady + Merrifield would not send her daughters to help, as there were plenty of + hands without them, and they were too young to trust in a mixed set, who + were not always sure to be reverent. + </p> + <p> + Dinner had rested and refreshed them; they rejoiced in the absence of the + man-kind, and Primrose was sent out for her walk while the numerous boxes + and packages were opened, and displayed sconces and tapers, gilt balls and + glass birds, oranges and bon-bons, disguised in every imaginable fashion. + There was a double set of the tapers, and two relays of devices in sweets, + for the benefit of the party of the second night, a list of whom Miss + Hacket had brought, that heads might be counted, and any deficiency + supplied in time through Aunt Jane. For Lady Merrifield had commissioned + Gillian to lay in—unknown to the good lady—a stock of such + treasures as are valuable indeed to the little maid: shell pin-cushions, + Cinderella slippers holding thimbles, cases of hair-pins, queer + housewives, and the like things, wonderfully pretty for the price, and + which filled the kind heart of Miss Hacket with rapture and gratitude at + such brilliant additions to her own home-made contrivances in the way of + cuffs, comforters, and illuminated workbags, all beautifully neat; I + though it was hard to persuade her of what Lady Merrifield averred, that + such things ought to be far more precious than brilliant, shop-bought, + ready-made ware, ‘with no love-seed in it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is very hard,’ she said; ‘how fancy shops try to spoil all one used to + be able to do for one’s friends. The purses, and the penwipers, and the + needle-cases that were one’s choicest presents in my youth, are all turned + out now smart and tight and fashioned, but without a scrap of the honest + old labour and love that went into them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But papa and mamma do care still,’ cried Gillian; ‘papa never will have + any purse but the long ones mamma nets for him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And mamma always will have the old brown and blue carriage-bag that Aunt + Phyllis worked,’ chimed in Mysie, ‘though Claude did say he would throw it + into the sea when we crossed from Dublin for it looked like an old + housekeeper’s.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Claude was in a superfine condition then—in awe of an old Sandhurst + comrade. He would be gild enough to see the old brown bag now, poor + fellow,’ said Lady Merrifield, tenderly. + </p> + <p> + So it went on, with merry chat and a good deal of real preparation, till + the early darkness came on, and a great noise in the haul announced the + return of ‘the boys,’ among whom Lady Merrifield still classed her colonel + brother. They were muddy up to the eyes, but they had seen a great deal + more than was easy to understand in their incoherent accounts. Wilfed had + rolled into a wet ditch, and been picked out by his uncle and hung up to + dry at a little village inn, where—this seemed to have been the + supreme glory—they had made a meal on pigs’-liver and + bread-and-cheese before plodding home again—losing their way under + Wilfred’s confident pilotage—finding themselves five miles from home—getting + a cast in a cart for the two little boys just as Fergus was almost ready + to cry—Colonel Mohun and Jasper walking alongside of the carter for + two miles, and conversing in a friendly manner, though the man said he + knew the soldier by his step, and thought it was a pool-trade. Finally, he + directed them by a short cut, which proved to be through a lane of clay + and pools of such an adhesive nature that Fergus had to be pulled out step + by step by main force by his uncle, who deposited him on some stones at + the other end, and then came back to assist the struggles of Wilfred, who + was slowly proceeding with Jasper’s help. + </p> + <p> + ‘And that’s the way we make you spend your Christmas holiday, Regie,’ said + Lady Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘Never mind. Lily; mud was a congenial element to us both in old times, + you know, so no wonder your brood take to it like ducks or hippopotamuses. + I say, we ought to have come in by the rear. Couldn’t that imp of a + buttons of yours come and scrape us before we go upstairs?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are certainly grown older, Regie. You never would have thought of + that once.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No more would you, Lily—so do yourself justice.’ + </p> + <p> + However, when five o’clock tea was spread in the drawing-room, and the + Hacket ladies came in, Constance beheld such a splendid vision of a fine, + fair, though sunburnt face, long, light moustaches, and tall figure, that + she instantly assumed her most affected graces, and did not wonder the + less that the Mohuns were all so very high. + </p> + <p> + Dolores’s strong desire for a private interview with her uncle died away + when Constance carried off the cheque. She knew he would tell her she had + no right to give it, and she did not want to be told so, nor to have any + special inquiries made. She was not sorry that an invitation from a + neighbour kept him and Hal out shooting all Saturday, and, on the other + hand, she so far shrank from Constance’s talk about Mr. Flinders as not to + be vexed that it was too wet on Sunday afternoon for any going down to + Casement Cottages. + </p> + <p> + It was on that wet afternoon, however, that Uncle Reginald, crossing the + hall for once without his tail of followers, saw her slowly dragging + downstairs with a book in her hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, Miss Doll,’ he said; ‘you don’t look very jolly! What’s the + matter?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nothing, Uncle Regie.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t believe in nothing. Here,’ sitting down on the stairs, with an + arm round her, ‘tell me all about it, Dolly, we are old chums, you know. + Have you got into a row?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh no!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Is there anything I can put straight?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, thank you, Uncle Regie.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s something amiss!’ said the good-natured, puzzled uncle. ‘What is + it? I should have thought you would have got on with these young folks + like—like a house on fire.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s all you know about it,’ thought Dolly. What she said was, ‘One + never does.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t understand that generalization,’ answered her uncle; then, as she + did not answer, he added, ‘I am sure your Aunt Lily is very anxious to + make you happy. Have you anything to complain of?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said Dolores, ‘I don’t complain of anything.’ + </p> + <p> + She was thinking of Valetta’s notion that she wanted to ‘make up stories + of them,’ and therefore she said it in a manner which conveyed that she + had a good deal to complain of, if she would, though really she would have + been a good deal puzzled to produce a grievance that a man like Uncle + Reginald would understand, though she had plenty for sympathy like + Constance’s. + </p> + <p> + However, it was not to be expected that a private conference should last + long in that house, and Mysie appeared at that moment, looking for her + cousin, to say that ‘Mamma was ready for her.’ Dolores went off with more + alacrity than usual, and Uncle Reginald beckoned up his other niece, and + observed: ‘I say, Mysie, what’s the matter with Dolly?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She is always like that, uncle,’ answered Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t you hit it off with her, then?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I can’t, uncle,’ said Mysie, looking up, with a sudden wink now and then + to stop her tears. ‘I thought we should have been such friends; but she + won’t let me. I didn’t mean to be stupid and disagreeable, like the girls + in ‘Ashenden Schoolroom,’ but she doesn’t care for anybody but Miss + Constance and Maude Sefton.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I hope you are all very kind to her,’ said Uncle Reginald, rather + wistfully. + </p> + <p> + ‘We try,’ said Mysie, who was not going to betray Wilfred and Valetta, and + could honestly say so of herself and Gillian. + </p> + <p> + And there again came an interruption, in the shape of Gillian. ‘Mysie, + mamma says we may finish up our sacred illuminated cards, for it will be + Sunday work.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, jolly!’ cried Mysie, jumping up. ‘And will you give me one rub of + your real good carmine Gilly-flower, dear.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And of my ultramarine, too,’ responded Gillian, wherewith the two sisters + disappeared, radiant with goodwill and gratitude; while poor Uncle + Reginald, who had intended to devote this wet Sunday afternoon to writing + to his brother that Dolores was perfectly happy and thriving in Lily’s + care, and like a sister to his other favourite, Mysie, remained + disappointed and perplexed, wondering whether the poor little maiden were + homesick, or whether no children could be depended on for kindness when + out of sight, and deciding that he should defer his letter till he had + seen a little more, and talked to his sister Jane, who could see through a + milestone any day. + </p> + <p> + It was understood that mamma preferred home-made cards to bought ones, so + there was always a great manufacture of them in the weeks previous to + Christmas, the comparative failures being exchanged among the younger + members. + </p> + <p> + The presents were always reserved for Valetta’s birthday and the tree, and + this rendered the circulation of the cards doubly interesting. In the + immediate family alone, there were thirteen times thirteen, besides those + coming from, and going to outsiders, so that it was as well that a good + many should be of domestic manufacture, either with pencil and brush, or + of tiny leaves carefully dried and gummed. And mamma had kept an album, + with names and dates, into which all these home efforts were inserted, and + nothing else! This year’s series began with a little chestnut curl of + Primrose’s hair, fastened down on a card by Gillian, and rose to a + beautiful drawing of a blue Indian Lotus lily, with a gorgeous dragon-fly + on it, sent by Alethea. The Indian party had sent a card for every one—the + girls, beautiful drawings of birds, insects, and scenery; the brother, a + bundle of rice-paper figured with costumes, and papa, some clever + pen-and-ink outlines of odd figures, which his daughters beguiled from him + in his leisure moments! + </p> + <p> + As to the home circle, it is enough to say that their performances were + highly satisfactory to the makers, and were rewarded by mamma’s kisses, + and the text or verse she had secretly illuminated for each. She had no + time to do more, and the series were infinitely prized and laid up as + treasures. There were plenty of ornamental cards from without to be + admired: the Brighton and Beechcroft aunts; the Stokesley cousins, and + whole multitudes of friends pouring them in as usual; so that the entire + review seemed to occupy all those free moments of the Christmas Day, when + the young folks were neither at church, nor at meals, nor singing carols + themselves, nor hearing the choir sing in the hall, nor looking over + photograph books and hearing old family stories. This last occupation was + received in the family as the regular evening pleasure, ending in all + singing, ‘When shepherds watch their flocks by night.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores had a card from her aunt and each of her cousins, besides one of + the parcel Uncle Reginald had brought. She did not think enough of the + very bad drawing and smeared painting of the ambitious attempts she + received, to feel at all disconcerted at having no reciprocity to offer. + The only cards she had sent were to Constance Hacket, to Fraulein, and to + Maude Sefton—the last with a sore sense of the long interval since + she had heard. + </p> + <p> + However, there was a card from Maude, but it was a very poor one, looking + very much like a last year’s possession, and the letter was not much + better, being chiefly an apology for having been too busy to write. Maude + was going to lectures with Nona Styles—Nona was such a darling girl—and + breaking off because she was wanted to rehearse Cinderella with this same + darling Nona. + </p> + <p> + It made Dolores’s heart go down farther, though there was a beautiful and + unexpected card from Mrs. Sefton, one from her former servant, Caroline, + also from Fraulein, and three or four from old friends of her mother, who + had remembered the solitary girl. In truth, she had more beautiful ones + than anybody else, but she kept these in their envelopes, and showed + herself so much averse to free fingering and admiration of them that Lady + Merrifield had to call off Valetta, remind her that her cousin had a right + to her own cards, and hear in return that Dolores was so cross. + </p> + <p> + ‘Dolly,’ said Uncle Reginald, in a low voice, since he was permitted to + look over the cards with her, ‘I think I have found out part of your + troubles.’ + </p> + <p> + She looked at him in alarm. + </p> + <p> + He put his finger on a card bearing the words, ‘Goodwill to men.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Umph,’ said she. ‘I don’t want everything of mine messed and spoilt.’ + </p> + <p> + And as his eye fell on Fergus’s cards, he felt there was reason in what + she said. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lily had taken her for a quarter of an hour that morning, trying to + infuse the real thought underlying the joy that makes it Christmas, not + only yule-tide. But it all fell flat—it was all lessons to her—imposed + on her on a day that she had not been used to see made what she called + ‘goody.’ Last year her father had shut himself up after church, and she + had spent the evening in noisy mirth with the Seftons. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. — AN EGYPTIAN SPHYNX + </h2> + <p> + Aunt Adeline was afraid of winter journeys as well as of the tumultuous + festivities of Silverton; so at twelve o’clock. Colonel Mohun drove the + pony-carriage to meet the little trim Brownie who stepped out of the + station, the porter carrying behind her a huge thing, long, and swathed in + brown paper. ‘It is quite light; it won’t hurt,’ she said, ‘It must go + with us. Put your legs across it, Regie. That’s right.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then what becomes of yours?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mine can go anywhere,’ said Miss Mohun, crumpling herself up in some + mysterious manner under the fur rug, while they drove off, her luggage + sticking far off on either side of the splashboard. + </p> + <p> + ‘What, in the name of wonder, are you smuggling in there?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If you must know, it is the body of a mummy over whose dissection you + will have to assist.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! Rotherwood is coming.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Rotherwood!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And his little girl. Just like him. Lily gets a note this morning from + London, telling her to telegraph if she can’t have them by the 5.20 train. + I’ve just been ordering a fly. It seems that Lady Rotherwood, going to + meet Ivinghoe at the station, coming from school, found he had measles + coming out! So they packed off his sister to Beechcroft without having + seen him, and thence Rotherwood took her to London.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And is having a fine frolic with her, no doubt; but he might as well have + given Lily more notice, considering that a marquess or two makes more + difference to her household than it does to his.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! she is glad enough, only in some trepidation as to how Mrs. Halfpenny + may receive the unspecified maid that the child may bring.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How jolly we shall be! I wish Ada had come.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I tried to drag her out, but it gets harder and harder to shake her up. + You must come back with me and see her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I say, Jane, have you seen Maurice’s child lately?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not very. She wouldn’t come with the others last week.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What do you think about her? I thought leaving her with Lily would have + been the making of her. Indeed, I told Maurice there could not be a better + brought up set anywhere than the Merrifields, and that Lily would mother + her like one of her own; and now I find her moping about, looking + regularly down in the mouth. I got hold of her one day and tried to find + out what was the matter, but she only said she would not complain. Can + they bully her?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll tell you what, Maurice, Lily is a great deal too kind to her. She + has a kind of temper that won’t let them make friends with her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Come now! She was a nice jolly little girl at home. She and I have had no + end of larks together, and it is hard to blame her for fretting after her + home, poor child—Aye! I know you never liked her, or she might have + done better with you and Ada than turned in among a lot of imps.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m thankful it was otherwise!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now do, Jane, set your mind to it. Don’t be prejudiced, but make those + sharp eyes of some use. I really feel bound to give Maurice an account of + Dolly, and tell him what is best for her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I believe,’ said Jane, ‘that there is some counter-influence at work, and + I am trying to find it out; but, after all, I believe patience is the only + thing, and that Lily will conquer her if nobody meddles.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘’Tis not Lily I am afraid of, but her children.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nonsense, Regie; one would think you had never been turned loose into + school to be licked into shape.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She is a girl, not a cub like me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A worse cub, for she has not your temper, sir, and, moreover, you had had + the wholesome discipline of a large family. Besides, nobody teases but + Wilfred. Gillian and Mysie behave like angels to the tiresome puss.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I’m bound to believe you, Jenny, but I don’t like the looks of it.’ + </p> + <p> + Aunt Jane’s mysterious parcel was greeted rapturously, and conveyed into + the dining-room, which had a semi-circular end, filled with glass, and + capable of being shut off with heavy curtains when the season made + snugness desirable. This bay had been set apart from the first for her + operations, the tree, whose second season it was, having been taken up and + already erected in the centre of the room, not much the worse for last + year’s excursion, for, if rather stunted, that was all the better. No one + was excluded from the decoration thereof, since that was the best part of + the sport to those too old for the mystery—and yet young enough to + fasten sconces where their candles would infallibly set fire to the twigs + above them. The only defaulters were Jasper, who had preferred going down + to the meadows with his gun; and Dolores, who had retired to the + drawing-room with a book, on having a paper star removed from immediate + risk of conflagration. ‘They were determined not to let her help,’ she + said. + </p> + <p> + So she only emerged when the workers halted for a merry, hurried meal in + the schoolroom, where Jasper appeared, very late, very cross at having had + to make himself fit to be seen, and, likewise, at having brought home no + spoil, the snipes having been so malicious as to escape him. Having + sallied forth before the post came in, it was only now that it broke on + him that visitors were expected, and he did not like it at all. + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought we had got rid of all the enemy!’ he growled, at his end of the + table. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s what he calls Constance.’ thought Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Polite,’ observed Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘This will be worse still, being lord and ladies grumbled on Jasper, ‘I + hate swells.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! but these aren’t like horrid, common, fine lords and ladies,’ cried + Mysie; ‘why, you know all mamma’s old stories about the fun they had with + cousin Rotherwood. + </p> + <p> + ‘What’s the good of that! That’s a hundred years ago. He’ll just make + mamma and Uncle Regie of no good at all! And then there’s a girl too—’ + (in a tone of inconceivable disgust) ‘I don’t want strange girls—an + awful stuck-up swell of a Londoner, not able to do anything! I wish I had + gone to spend Christmas with Bruce! I would if I had known it was to be + like this.’ + </p> + <p> + The speech brought Mysie to the verge of tears. Aunt Jane’s sharp ears + heard it, and she looked at the head of the table, expecting to hear a + rebuke; but Lady Merrifield turned a deaf ear on that side. Only after the + meal, she called her son, ‘Jasper,’ she said, ‘I want to send a note to + Redford, if you like to ride over with it. You need not come home till + eight o’clock, if it is moonlight, it the boys are disengaged, and if you + do really wish to keep out of the way.’ + </p> + <p> + Jasper’s eyes fell under hers. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma, I don’t want that.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Only you said more than you meant, Japs. If it relieves your mind, it + hurts other people. But I do want the note taken, so go and come back in + time for the sports; which I don’t think you will find much damaged.’ + </p> + <p> + Meantime, Aunt Jane had ensconced herself behind the curtains; where she + admitted no one but Miss Vincent and Uncle Reginald, and in process of + time, mamma and Macrae. The others were still fully employed in garnishing + the tree, though it was only to bear lights, ornaments and sweets. All + solid articles had been for some time past committed to a huge box, or + ottoman, the veteran companion of the family travels, which stood in the + centre of the bay. Into its capacious interior everybody had been dropping + parcels of various sizes and shapes, with addresses in all sorts of hands, + which were to find their destination on this great evening. This was part + of the mystery that kept Mysie and Valetta in one continual dance and + caper. It was all they could do not to peep between the curtains when the + privileged mortals went in and out, bearing all sorts of mysterious loads + well covered up from all eyes. Wilfred did make one attempt, but something + extraordinary snapped at his nose, with a sharp crack, and drove him back + with a start. + </p> + <p> + A lamp had been taken thither, and there really was nothing more to do to + the tree, the scraps of packing had been picked up, and the hands, + tingling from fir-needle pricks, had been washed, though not without + protest from Valetta that it wasn’t worth while, and from Wilfred that it + was all along of these horrid swells—! + </p> + <p> + The sound of wheels summoned Lady Merrifield and her brother from the + place of mystery, and they were in the hall when a fresh gust of keen air + came in from the door, an ulstered figure hurried in, and something small + and furred was put into the lady’s embrace. + </p> + <p> + ‘Here’s my Fly, Lily—! Look, Fly, here they all are—all the + cousins. Off with the hat. Let us see your funny little face.’ + </p> + <p> + It was a funny little smiling face, set in short, light, wavy hair, not + exactly pretty, but with a bright, quaint, confiding look, as if used to + be shown off by her father, and ready to make friends on the spot. ‘And + how is your boy?’ as the round of greetings was completed, and the wraps + thrown off. + </p> + <p> + ‘Going on capitally, better than he deserves, the young scamp, for + suppressing all symptoms for fear he should be hindered from coming home. + His mother was in a proper fright, she showed him to the doctor on the + way, who told her to put him to bed at once, and send his sister out of + the house. She never set eyes on him, or I would not have brought her + here.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am exceedingly glad you have,’ said Lady Merrifield, bending for + another kiss. + </p> + <p> + ‘And Lily, I’ve done another awful thing. Victoria kept old nurse to help + with Ivinghoe, and we brought the Swiss bonne, Louise, away with us, but + the poor thing found her sister very ill in London, and I hadn’t the heart + to bring her away, so Phyllis said she would do for herself, if your maid, + or some of them, would have an eye to her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There! I’m doubly glad, Rotherwood! If I had any fears it was not of you, + or Phyllis; but that like Vich Ian Vhor, she should have her tail on. And, + oh! Rotherwood, do you know what you are in for?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘High jinks of some sort, I’ve no doubt. We picked up a couple of boxes at + Gunter’s and Miller’s with a view thereto. Who is master of the revels?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Jane. She’s too deep in preparations to come forth at present. Gillian, + will you take Phyllis to the nursery, and take care of her. We are to have + a very high tea at half-past six; but, Rotherwood, I promise that another + day you shall have a respectable dinner in this house.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Return to the prose of life, eh, Lily? Well, Fly, what do you think of + it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, daddy, aren’t you glad we came?’ she cried, dancing off, in Gillian’s + wake, arm-in-arm with Mysie and Valetta, while he called after her, ‘Find + the boxes, and make them over to the right quarter.’ + </p> + <p> + This was enough to make the whole bevy of children rush away, and only the + three elders remained. Lord Rotherwood said, ‘This is short notice. Lily; + but I did not know Reginald was here, and I thought you might want help. + Don’t be frightened, only a queer thing has happened. I went to W.‘s bank + yesterday. I thought they looked at me as if something was up, and + by-and-by one of the partners came and took me into his private room. + There he showed me a cheque, and asked my opinion whether the writing was + Maurice’s. And I should say it decidedly was, but it was actually for + seventy pounds, payable to order of Miss Dolores M. Mohun.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Seventy!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, and dated the 19th of August.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Just before Maurice went.’ + </p> + <p> + There was a sudden silence, for the door opened; but it was to admit Miss + Mohun, who began, ‘Oh! Rotherwood, you are too munificent. Why, what’s the + matter?’ Lady Merrifield hastily explained, as far as she yet understood, + what had brought him. + </p> + <p> + ‘How did they get the cheque?’ she asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Sent up from the country bank where it had been cashed—Darminster.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ came from both the aunts. + </p> + <p> + Lord Rotherwood went on. ‘They asked me who Miss Dolores Mohun was, and I + could do no otherwise than tell them, and likewise where to find her, but + I explained that she is a mere child; and I told them I would come down + here, so I hope you will have as little annoyance as possible.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is very good of you, Rotherwood, but I can’t understand it at all. Was + her name on the back?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Certainly; I told them I thought the whole thing must be a well got up + forgery, and a confidential clerk was to go down today to Darminster to + try to find out who gave it in there.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Darminster! Flinders!’ ejaculated Miss Mohun. + </p> + <p> + ‘Regie,’ exclaimed Lady Merrifield; ‘what did you say about having seen + some one like Dolores at Darminster station?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I was nearly jumping out after her. I should have said it was herself, if + it had not been impossible. Why she was with you at Rockstone, and it was + a pouring, dripping day,’ said the colonel. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, she was not. She begged to spend the day with Constance Hacket, and + we picked her up as we came home. Poor child, what has she been doing? I + have not looked after her properly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But need she have had anything to do with it?’ said Colonel Mohun. ‘How + should a cheque of Maurice’s come into her possession?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She did tell me,’ said Lady Merrifield,’ that her father had left one + with her to pay for some German scientific book that might be sent for + him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I see, then!’ cried Miss Mohun. ‘That wretch Flinders must have got into + communication with her, and induced her to fill up her father’s cheque for + him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But why should it be Flinders?’ said Lord Rotherwood. + </p> + <p> + ‘Jane found out that he is living at Darminster, and has been trying to + put me on my guard,’ returned Lady Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is all that fellow Flinders, depend upon it,’ said Colonel Mohun. ‘He + is quite capable of it, and you’ll find poor Dolly has nothing to do with + it. Quite preposterous. And look here, Lily, let the poor child alone to + enjoy herself tonight. Most likely Rotherwood’s clerk, or detective, or + whatever he may be, will have ferreted out the rights of the matter at + Darminster. I sincerely hope he will, and have Flinders in custody, and + then you would have upset her and accused her all for nothing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am glad you think so, Regie,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘I am thankful + enough to wait, and hope it will be explained without spoiling the + children’s evening.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘All right,’ said the visitor; ‘I only hope I have not spoilt yours.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! one learns to throw things off. I shall believe it is all Flinders, + and none of it the child’s,’ said Lady Merrifield, carefully avoiding a + glance that could show her any gesture of dissent on the part of her + sister, and only looking up for her brother’s nod of approval. ‘Besides, + how foolish it would be to worry myself when I have two such protectors! + It was very good in you, Rotherwood, I only hope we shall take good care + of your Fly, and that her mother will be satisfied about her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She knew the little woman and I should have a lark together,’ said he. + ‘The governess was safe out of reach, holiday-making, so I could have her + all to myself. Victoria suggested her brother’s, and we must go there + before we have done, but business and the pantomime by good luck took us + to London first. So when I wrote to you from the bank, I also let her know + that I was obliged to take the little woman down here first. I couldn’t + take her to High Court till Louise is available again.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So much the better, I’m sure.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And what I was going to say is, that Rotherwood has been startlingly + munificent and splendid,’ said Aunt Jane. ‘We shall have a set of new + surprises.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t in the least know what I brought. I only told each of them to put + up such a box as they sent out for Christmas concerns. Do precisely what + you please with them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Come and see, Lily, for I think there will be enough to reserve a fresh + lot of things for Miss Hacket’s affair. By-the-by, Regie, did you say it + rained at Darminster?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poured all the way down.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, we had it quite fine.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Was it fine here?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, certainly,’ said Lady Merrifield,’ or Primrose would not have gone + out. Take care of Rotherwood, Regie. You know his room.’ + </p> + <p> + And the two sisters crossed the hall, where the ‘very high tea’ was being + laid; hearing from the regions above sounds of exquisite glee and + merriment, as perfect and almost as inexpressive of anything else as the + singing of birds, so that they themselves could not help answering with a + laugh, before they vanished into the chamber of mystery. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, Phyllis’s conversation was like a fairy tale. Her brother’s + illness, which was not enough to damp any one’s spirits, had prevented or + hindered a grand children’s party as the Butterfly’s Ball, where she was + to have been the Butterfly, and Lord Ivinghoe the Grasshopper, and all the + children were to appear as one of the characters in Roscoe’s pretty poem. + Never was anything more delightful to the imagination of the little + cousins, and they could not marvel enough at her seeming so little uneasy + about anything so charming, and quite ready and eager to throw herself + headlong into all their present enjoyments, making wonderful surmises as + to the mystery in preparation. + </p> + <p> + Dolores heard the laughing, and it did not suit with her vaguely uneasy + and injured frame of mind; feeling dreadfully lonely too, as she came + downstairs, dressed for the evening, but not knowing where to go, for the + dining-room was engrossed, the schoolroom was dark and the fire out, the + drawing-room occupied by the two gentlemen. She crouched down in one of + the big arm-chairs on either side of the hearth in the hall, and began to + read by the firelight. Presently Jasper came in from his ride, and began + taking off his greatcoat, leggings, and boots, whistling as he did so, + then, perceiving the tempting object of a black leg sticking out of the + chair, he stole up across the soft carpet, and caught hold of the ankle. + He received a vigorous kick in return (which perhaps he expected) but what + he did not expect was the black figure that rose up in outraged dignity + and indignation. ‘For shame! I won’t be insulted!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Whew! I thought ‘twas Val! I beg your pardon.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall ask my aunt if I am to be insulted.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, if you choose to take it in that way—A man can’t do more than + beg pardon! I’m sure I would never have presumed to touch you if I had + known it was your Dolorousness.’ + </p> + <p> + And he turned to walk away, just as the babbling ripple of laughter began + to flow downstairs, and a whole mass of little girls intertwined together + was descending. ‘I always hop,’ said a voice new to him, ‘except on the + great staircase, and mother doesn’t like it there. But this is such a + jolly stair. Can’t you hop?’ + </p> + <p> + Hopping in a threefold embrace on a slippery stair was hardly a safe + pastime, and before Jasper had time to utter more than’ Holloa there! take + care!’ there descended suddenly on him an avalanche of little girls, + ‘knocking him off his feet, so that all promiscuously rolled down two or + three steps together. Fergus and Primrose, who had somehow been holding on + behind,’ remained upright, but nevertheless screaming. The shrieks of the + fallen were, however, laughter. There was a soft rug below, and by the + time the gentlemen had rushed out of the dining-room, and the ladies from + the curtained recess, giggling below and legs above were chiefly apparent. + </p> + <p> + ‘Any one hurt?’ was of course Lady Merrifield’s cry. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh no, mamma. Only we are so mixed up we can’t get up,’ called out Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is this arm you or me?’ exclaimed Phyllis, following up the joke. + </p> + <p> + ‘Come, sort yourselves, ladies and gentlemen,’ said Lord Rotherwood. + ‘What’s this, a Fly’s wing?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, it’s mine,’ cried Val, as his hand pulled her out, and the others + extricated themselves, still laughing, go that they could hardly stand, + and Fly declaring, ‘Oh, daddy, daddy, it is such fun! I am so glad we + came,’ and taking a gratuitous leap into the air. + </p> + <p> + ‘Every one to her taste,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘I congratulate those to + whom a compound tumble-down-stairs is felicity.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She has found her congenial element, you see,’ said her father, as the + elders proceeded upstairs to their toilette.’ ‘Tis laughing-gas with her + to be with other children, and the most laughingest of all are naturally + yours, old Lily.’ + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Jasper, risen on his stocking soles, looked all over at the + little figure, dressed old picture fashion, in the simplest white frock + with blue sash, and short-cut hair tied back with blue. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, you are a jolly little girl,’ he said, ‘and a cool customer, too! + What do you mean by knocking a fellow over the first time you see him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And what do you mean by coming like a great—huge—big elephant + in our way to stop up the stairs?’ demanded Fly, in return. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you mean to insinivate that ‘twas I that made you fall?’ said Jasper—‘I, + that was quietly walking up the stairs, when down there came on me a + shower—not cats and dogs, but worserer, far worserer! Why, I’m kilt! + my nose is flat as a pancake, I shan’t recover my beauty all the evening + for the great swells that are coming.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Jasper, Japs,’ called his mother’s warning voice, ‘you must come up and + dress, for tea is going in.’ + </p> + <p> + He obeyed, rushing two steps at a time; but meeting, at the bottom of the + attic flight, his sister Gillian, he demanded, ‘Gill, what awfully jolly + little girl have they got down there?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, Fly, of course, Lady Phyllis Devereux—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no, nothing swell, a comical little soul, with no nonsense about her, + in a white thing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, that’s Phyllis. There’s no one else there.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I say. Gill, ‘tis like sunshine and clouds. She and the other, I mean. + Why, I gave a little pull to a foot I saw in the armchair, thinking it + belonged to Val, and out breaks my Lady of the Rueful Countenance, vowing + she’ll complain that I’ve insulted her; and as to the other, the whole lot + of them tumbled over me together on the stairs, and she did nothing but + laugh and chaff.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I hope she is not a romp,’ said the staid Gillian, sagely, as she went + downstairs. + </p> + <p> + But on that score she was soon satisfied. Phyllis Devereux was a thorough + little lady, wild and merry as she was, and enchanted to be in the rare + fairyland of child companionship. And that indeed she had, Mysie and + Valetta, between whose ages she stood, hung to her inseparably, and Jasper + was quite transformed from his grim superciliousness into her devoted + knight. At tea-time there was a competition for the seats next to her, + determined by Valetta’s taking one side, in right of the birthday, and + Jasper the other, because he secured it, and Mysie gave way to him because + he was Japs, and she always did. While Dolores laid up a store of + moralizings on the adulation paid to the little lady of title, and at the + same time speculated what concatenation of circumstances could ever make + her Lady Dolores Mohun. On the whole, it would be more likely that her + father should gain a peerage by putting down a Fijian rebellion than that + it should be discovered that his mother, Lady Emily, had been the true + heiress of the marquessate, and even so, an uncomfortable number of people + must be disposed of before it could come to him. She had one consolation, + however, for Uncle Reginald, always kind to her, was particularly + affectionate this evening, as if he would not have that little foolish Fly + set up before her. + </p> + <p> + The tea and the tree both went off joyously. There is no need to describe + the spectacle to folks who can count their Christmas-trees by the years of + their life and the memorable part of this one was that much of the fruit + that had been left hanging on it was now metamorphosed into something much + more gorgeous—oranges had become eggs full of sugar-plums, + gutta-percha monkeys grinned on the branches, golden flowers had sprung to + life on the ends of the twigs, a lovely jewel-like lantern crowned the + whole, and as to sweets, everybody—servants and all—had some + delightful devices containing them, whether drum, bird, or bird’s nest. + </p> + <p> + Before the distribution was over, it was observed that Aunt Jane and Uncle + Reginald, also Harry, had vanished from the scene. There was a pause, + during which such tapers as began to burn perilously low, were + extinguished, an operation as delightful apparently as the fixing them. + Presently a horn was heard, and a start or shudder of mysterious ecstasy + pervaded the audience, as a tall figure came through the curtains, and + announced: + </p> + <p> + ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I have the honour to inform you that a fresh + discovery has been made in the secret chambers of the Pyramid of Chops, + otherwise known as Te-Gun-Ter-ra. A mummy has been disinterred, which is + about to be opened by the celebrated Egyptologist, Herr Professor + Freudigfeldius, who has likewise discovered the means of making such a + conjuration of the Sphynx that she will not only summon each of the + present company by name, but will require of each of them to reply to a + question. The penalty of a refusal is well known!’ + </p> + <p> + Therewith the curtains were drawn back, and a scene was presented which + made some of the spectators start. Behind was the semblance of a wall + marked with the joints of large stones, and lighted (apparently) with two + brass lamps. On the floor lay extended an enormous mummy, with the + regulation canvas case, and huge flaps of ears, between which appeared a + small, painted face, and below lay a long, gaily coloured scroll in + hieroglyphics. Exalted stiffly in a seat placed on a seeming block of + stone, was a figure, with elbows, as it were glued to its sides, and hands + crossed, altogether stone-coloured and monumental, and with the true + Sphynx head, surrounded with beetles, lizards, and other mystic creatures + (very chocolate-coloured). And beside her stood the Herr Professor, in a + red fez, long dark gown, and spectacles, a flowing beard concealing the + rest of his face. How delightful to see such an Egyptologist! Even though + one perfectly knew the family beard and fez; also that the gown was papa’s + old dressing-gown, captured for the theatrical wardrobe. And how grand to + hear him speak, even though his broken English continually became more + vernacular. + </p> + <p> + ‘Liebes Herrschaft,’ he began, ‘I would, nobles, gentry, and ladies say. + You here see the embalmed rests of the celebrated monarch Nic-nac-ci-no. + Lately up have I them graben, and likewise his tutelar Sphynx have found, + and have even to give signs of animation compelled.’ + </p> + <p> + Touching the effigy with his wand, she emitted certain growls and hisses, + which made Primrose hide her face in alarm at anything so uncanny, and + Lord Rotherwood observe— + </p> + <p> + ‘Nearly related to the cat-goddess Pasht; I thought so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There was something of the lion or cat in the Sphynx,’ said Gillian, + gravely, while the three little girls clasped each other’s hands with + delightful thrills of awe and expectation. + </p> + <p> + ‘Observe,’ continued the Professor, ‘the outer case with the features of + the deceased is painted. I should conclude that King Nic-nac, etcetera, + had been of a peculiarly jolly—I mean frolich—nature, judging + by the grin on his face. We proceed—’ + </p> + <p> + As he laid his hand on the wrapper, the Sphynx gave utterance to sounds so + like the bad language of a cat that some looked round for one. The + Professor waved at her, and she subsided. He turned back the covering, and + demanded, ‘Will the amiable Fraulein there. Mademoiselle Valetta, come and + see what treasures she can discover in the secrets of the tomb?’ + </p> + <p> + Val, who in right of her birthday, had expected the first call, jumped up, + but the Sphynx made awful noises as she advanced, and the Professor + explained that she would have to answer the Sphynx’s question first. + </p> + <p> + ‘But I don’t know Egyptian,’ she observed. + </p> + <p> + ‘Never mind, it will sound like English.’ + </p> + <p> + It did so, for it was, ‘How many months old art thou, maiden?’ + </p> + <p> + Val’s arithmetic was slightly scared. She clasped her hand nervously, and + was indebted to the Professor for the sotto voce hint, ‘twelve nines,’ + before she uttered ‘a hundred and eight.’ + </p> + <p> + The Sphynx relapsed into stoniness, and the Herr Professor guided the + hands, which trembled a little, to the interior of the mummy, whence they + drew out a basket, labelled (wonderful to relate) ‘Val,’ and containing—oh! + such treasures, a blue egg full of needlework implements, a new book, an + Indian ivory case, a skipping-rope, a shuttlecock, and other delights past + description. The exhibition of them was only beginning when the Professor + called for Primrose, who was too much frightened to come alone, and + therefore was permitted to be brought by Mrs. Halfpenny. The Sphynx was + particularly amiable on this occasion, and only asked ‘When Primroses + came?’ and as the little one, in her shy fright did not reply, nurse did + so, with, ‘Come, missie, can’t you find a word to tell that mamma’s + Primrose came in spring.’ This was allowed to pass, and Mrs. Halfpenny + bore off her child, clutching a doll’s cradle, stuffed with pretty things, + and for herself a bundle wrapped up in a shawl from Sir Jasper himself. + </p> + <p> + After Primrose was gone to bed, the Sphynx became much more ill-tempered + and demonstrative, snarling considerably at the approach of some of the + party, some of whom replied with convulsive laughter, some, such as + Jasper, with demonstrations of ‘poking up the Sphynx.’ She had a question + for everybody—Fly was asked, ‘Which was best, a tree or a + Butterfly’s ball?’ and answered, with truthful politeness, that where + Mysie and Val were was best of all. She carried off a collection that had + hastily been made of Indian curiosities, photographs of her two friends, + and a book; and her father, after being asked, ‘What was the best of + insects?’ and replying, ‘On the whole, I think it is my housefly, even + when she isn’t a butterfly,’ received a letter-weight of brass, fashioned + like an enormous fly, which Lady Merrifield had snatched up from the table + for the purpose. The maids giggled at the well-known conundrums proposed + to them, and Dolores had a very easy question—’ What was the weather + this day week?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A horrid wet day,’ she promptly answered, and found herself endowed with + a parcel containing some of the best presents of all, bangles from the + Indian box, a beautiful pair of stork-like scissors, a writing-case, etc. + </p> + <p> + ‘The Sphynx’s invention is running low,’ observed Jasper to Gillian, when + the creature put the same question about last week’s weather to Herbert, + the page-boy, as a prelude to his discovering the treasures of the mummy, + as a knife and an umbrella. His view of the weather was that it was ‘A + fine day ma’am! yes, a fine day.’ + </p> + <p> + Macrae came last, and the Sphynx asked him which of the two contrary views + was right. + </p> + <p> + ‘It was fine, ma’am, that I know. For I walked down with nurse, and little + Miss Primrose into Silverton, to help to carry her in case she was tired, + and we never had occasion to put up an umbrella.’ + </p> + <p> + Wherewith Macrae received his combination of gifts and retired; the mummy + being completely rifled, and the construction of the body, a frame of + light, open wicker-work, revealed. Aunt Jane had had it made at the + basketmaker’s, while as to the head and covering, her own ingenious + fingers had painted and fashioned them. Everybody had to look at + everybody’s presents, a lengthened operation, and then there was a + splendid game at blindman’s-buff in the hall, in which all the elders + joined, except mamma, who had to go and sit in the nursery with the + restless and excited Primrose while Mrs. Halfpenny and Lots went down to + the servants’ festivity. + </p> + <p> + When she came down again, it was to quiet the tempest of merriment, and + send off the younger folks in succession to bed, till only the four elders + and Hal remained on the scene, waiting till there was reason to think the + household would be ready for prayers. + </p> + <p> + ‘It was Dolores that you saw at Darminster, Reginald,’ said Miss Mohun, + quietly. + </p> + <p> + ‘You Sphynx woman, how do you know?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You said it was raining at Darminster.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, that it was, everywhere beyond the tunnel through the Darfield + hills.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Exactly, I know they make a line in the rainfall. Well, here it was dry, + but Dolores called it a wet day.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now I call that too bad, Jane, to lay a trap for the poor child in the + game,’ cried Colonel Mohun, just as if they had still been boy and girl + together. + </p> + <p> + ‘It was to satisfy my own mind,’ she said, colouring a little. ‘I didn’t + want any one to act on it. Indeed, I think there will be no occasion.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Besides,’ he added, ‘it is nothing to go upon! No doubt, if it wasn’t + raining, it was the next thing to it here, and bow was she to recollect at + this distance of time? I won’t have her caught out in that way!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am glad she has a champion, Regie,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘Here come + the servants.’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. — A CYPHER AND A TY. + </h2> + <p> + Dolores was coming down to breakfast the next morning when Colonel Mohun’s + door opened. He exclaimed, ‘My little Dolly, good morning!’ stooped down + and kissed her. + </p> + <p> + Then, standing still a moment, and holding her hand, he said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Dolly, it was not you I saw at Darminster station?’ + </p> + <p> + It was a terrible shock. Some one, no doubt, was trying to set him against + her. And should she betray Constance and her uncle? At any rate, almost + before she knew what she was saying, ‘No, Uncle Regie,’ was out of her + mouth, and her conscience was being answered with ‘How do I know it was me + that he saw? these fur capes are very common.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought not,’ he answered, kindly. ‘Look here, Dolly, I want one word + with you. Did your father ever leave anything in charge with you for Mr. + Flinders? Did he ever speak to you about him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Never,’ Dolores truly answered. + </p> + <p> + ‘Because, my dear, though it’s a hard thing to say, and your poor mother + felt bound to him, he is a slippery fellow—a scamp, in fact, and if + ever he writes to you here, you had better send the letter straight off to + me, and I’ll see what’s to be done. He never has, I suppose?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said Dolores, answering the word here, and foolishly feeling the + involvement too great, and Constance too much concerned in it for her to + confess to her uncle what had really happened. Indeed, the first falsehood + held her to the second; and there was no more time, for Lord Rotherwood + was coming out of his room further down the passage. And after the + greetings, as she went downstairs before the two gentlemen, she was sure + she heard Uncle Regie say, ‘She’s all right.’ What could it mean? Was a + storm averted? or was it brewing? Could that spiteful Aunt Jane and her + questions about the weather be at the bottom of it? + </p> + <p> + The fun that was going on at breakfast seemed a mere roar of folly to her, + and she had an instinct of nothing but getting away to Constance. She soon + found that there would be opportunity enough, for the tree was to be taken + down in a barrow, and all the youthful world was to carry down the + decorations in baskets, and help to put them on. She dashed off among the + first to put on her things, and then was disappointed to find that first + all the pets were to be fed and shown off to Fly, who appreciated them far + more than she had done—knew how to lay hold of a rabbit, nursed the + guinea-pigs and puppies in turn, and was rapturous in her acceptance of + two young guinea-pigs and one puppy. + </p> + <p> + ‘I can keep them up in daddy’s dressing-room while we are at High Court, + and it will be such fun,’ she said. + </p> + <p> + ‘Will he let you?’ asked Gillian, in some doubt. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! daddy will always let me, and so will Griffin—his man, you + know, only we left him in London because daddy said he would be in your + butler’s way, but I can’t think why. Griffin would have helped about the + tree and learnt to make a mummy when we have our party. Louise would not + let me have them in the nursery, I know, but daddy and Griffin would, and + I could go and feed them in the morning before breakfast. Griffin would + get me bran! That is, if we do go to High Court; I wish we were to stay on + here. There’s nobody to play with at High Court, and grandpapa always + keeps daddy talking politics, so that I can hardly ever get him! Mysie, + whatever do you do with your father away in India?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, it is horrid. But then, there’s mamma,’ said Mysie, whispering, + however, as she saw Dolores near, and feared to hurt her feelings. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ said Fly, with a tender little shake of her head; ‘’tis worse for + her to have no mother at all! Is that why she looks so sad?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Cross’ is the word,’ said Wilfred. ‘I can’t think what she is come + bothering down here for!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! for shame, Wilfred!’ said Fly. ‘You should be sorry for her.’ And she + went up to Dolores, and by way of doing the kindest thing in the world, + said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Here’s my new puppy. Is not he a dear? I’ll let you hold him,’ and she + attempted to deposit the fat, curly, satiny creature in Dolores’s arms, + which instantly hung down stiff, as she answered, half in fright, ‘I hate + dogs!’ The puppy fell down with a flop, and began to squeak, while the + girls, crying, ‘Oh! Dolly, how could you!’ and ‘Poor little pup!’ all + crowded round in pity and indignation, and Wilfred observed, ‘I told you + so!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ll get no change but that out of the Lady of the Rueful Countenance,’ + said Jasper. + </p> + <p> + Mysie had for once nothing to say in Dolores’s defence, being equally hurt + for Fly’s sake and the puppy’s. Dolores found herself virtually sent to + Coventry, as she accompanied the party across the paddock, only just near + enough to benefit by their protection from the herd of half-grown calves + which were there disporting themselves; and, as if to make the contrast + still more provoking, Fly, who had a natural affinity for all animals, + insisted on trying to attract them, calling, ‘Sukkey! sukkey!’ and hold + out bunches of grass, in vain, for they only galloped away, and she could + only explain how tame those at home were, and how she went out farming + with daddy whenever he had time, and mother and Fraulein would let her + out. + </p> + <p> + The tree meantime came trundling down, a wonderful spectacle, with all its + gilt balls and fir-cones nodding and dangling wildly, and its other + embellishments turning upside down. There were greetings of delight at + Casement Cottage, and Miss Hacket had kissed everybody all round before + Gillian had time to present the new-comer, and then the good lady was + shocked at her own presumption, and exclaimed— + </p> + <p> + ‘I beg your ladyship’s pardon! Dear me! I had no notion who it was!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then please kiss me again now you do know!’ said Fly, holding up her + funny little face to that very lovable kind one, and they were all soon + absorbed in the difficulty of getting the tree in at the front door, and + setting it up in the room that had been prepared for it. + </p> + <p> + Dolores had hoped to confide her alarms to Constance’s sympathetic ear, + but her friend, who had written and dreamt of many a magnificently titled + scion of the peerage, but had never before seen one in her own house, had + not a minute to spare for her, being far too much engrossed in observing + the habits of the animal. These certainly were peculiar, since she + insisted on a waltz round the room with the tabby cat, and ascended a + step-ladder, merrily spurning Jasper’s protection, to insert the circle of + tapers on the crowning chandelier. There was nothing left for Dolores to + do but to sit by in the window-seat, philosophizing on the remarkable + effects of a handle to one’s name, and feeling cruelly neglected. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she saw a fly coming up to the gate. There was a general peeping + and wondering. Then Uncle Reginald and a stranger got out and came up to + the door. There was a ring—everybody paused and wondered for a + moment; then the maid tapped at the door and said, ‘Would Miss Mohun come + and speak to Colonel Mohun a minute in the drawing-room?’ + </p> + <p> + There was a hush of dread throughout the room. ‘Ah!’ sighed Miss Hacket, + looking at Gillian, and all the elders thought without saying that some + terrible news of her father had to be told to the poor child. They let her + go, frightened at the summons, but that idea not occurring to her. + </p> + <p> + ‘There!’ said Uncle Regie, ‘she can set it straight. Don’t be frightened, + my dear; only tell this gentleman whether that is your writing.’ + </p> + <p> + The stranger held a strip so that she could only just see ‘Dolores M. + Mohun,’ and she unhesitatingly answered ‘Yes’—very much surprised. + </p> + <p> + ‘You are sure?’ said her uncle, in a tone of disappointment that made her + falter, as she added, ‘I think so.’ At the same time the stranger turned + the paper round, and she knew it for the cheque that had so long resided + in her desk, but with dilated eyes, she exclaimed, ‘But—but—that + was for seven pounds!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That,’ said the stranger, ‘then, Miss Mohun, you know this draft?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Only it was for seven,’ repeated Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘You mean, I conclude, that it was drawn for seven pounds, and that it was + still for seven when it left your handy?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ muttered Dolores, who was beginning to get very much frightened, at + she knew not what, and to feel on her guard at all points. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of, my dear,’ said Uncle Reginald, tenderly; + ‘nobody suspects you of anything. Only tell us. Did your father give you + this paper?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And when did you cash it?’ asked the clerk. + </p> + <p> + Dolores hung her head. ‘I didn’t,’ she said. + </p> + <p> + ‘But how did it get out of your possession?’ said her uncle. ‘You are sure + this is your own writing at the back. It could surely not have been stolen + from her?’ he added to the stranger. + </p> + <p> + ‘That could hardly be,’ said that person. ‘Miss Mohun, you had better + speak out. To whom did you give this cheque?’ + </p> + <p> + There was a whirl of terror all round about Dolores, a horror of bringing + herself first, then Uncle Alfred, Constance, and everybody else into + trouble. She took refuge in uttering not a word. + </p> + <p> + ‘Dolores,’ said her uncle, and his tone was now much more grave and less + tender, thus increasing her terror; ‘this silence is of no use. Did you + give this cheque to Mr. Flinders?’ + </p> + <p> + In the silence, the ticks of the clock on the mantel-piece seemed like a + hammer beating on her ears. Dolores thought of the morning’s flat denial + of all intercourse with Flinders! Then the word give occurred to her as a + loophole, and her mind did not embrace all the consequences of the denial, + she only saw one thing at a time, ‘I didn’t give it,’ she answered, almost + inaudibly. + </p> + <p> + ‘You did not give it?’ repeated her uncle, getting angry and speaking + loud. ‘Then how did it get into his hands? Is there no truth in you?’ he + added, after a pause, which only terrified her more and more. ‘Whom did + you give it to?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Constance!’ The word came out she hardly knew how, as something which at + least was true. Colonel Mohun knocked at the door of the room she had come + from. It was instantly opened, and Miss Hacket began, ‘The poor dear! Can + I get anything for her, I am sure it is a terrible shock!’ and as he + stood, astonished, Gillian added, ‘Oh! I see it isn’t that. We were afraid + it was something about Uncle Maurice.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, my dear, no such thing. Only would Miss Constance Hacket be kind + enough to come here a minute?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! My apron! My fingers! Excuse me for being such a figure!’ Constance + ran on, as Colonel Mohun made her come across to the room opposite, where + she looked about her in amazement. Was the stranger a publisher about to + make her an offer for the ‘Waif of the Moorland.’ But Dolores’s down-cast + attitude and set, sullen face forbade the idea. + </p> + <p> + ‘Miss Constance Hacket,’ said the colonel, ‘here is an uncomfortable + matter in which we want your assistance. Will you kindly answer a question + or two from Mr. Ellis, the manager of the.... Bank?’ + </p> + <p> + Then the manager politely asked her if she had seen the cheque before. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes—why—what’s wrong about it? Oh! It is for seventy! Why, + Dolores, I thought it was only for seven?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It was for seven when you parted with it, then, Miss Hacket,’ said the + manager; ‘let me ask whether you changed it yourself?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ she said, ‘I sent it to—’ and there she came to a dead pause, + in alarm. + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you send it to Mr. Alfred Flinders?’ said Mr. Ellis. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes—oh!’ another little scream, ‘He can’t have done it. He can’t be + such a villain! Your own uncle, Dolores.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He is no uncle of Dolores Mohun!’ said the colonel. ‘He is only the son + of her mother’s step-mother by her first marriage.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Dolores, then you deceived me!’ exclaimed Constance; ‘you told me he + was your own uncle, or I would never—and oh! my fifteen pounds. + Where is he?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That, madam,’ said Mr. Ellis, gravely, ‘I hope the police may discover. + He has quitted Darminster after having cashed this cheque for seventy + pounds. We have already telegraphed to the police to be on the look out + for him, but I much fear that it will be too late.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! my fifteen pounds! What shall I do? Oh, Dolores, how could you? I + shall never trust any one again!’ + </p> + <p> + Perhaps Uncle Reginald felt the same, but he only darted a look upon his + niece, which she felt in every nerve, though to his eyes she only stood + hard and stolid. The manager, who found Constance’s torrent of words as + hard to deal with as Dolores’s silence, asked for pen and ink, and begged + to take down Miss Hacket’s statement to lay before a magistrate in case of + Flinders’s apprehension. It was not very easy to keep her to the point, + especially as her chief interest was in her own fifteen pounds, of which + Mr. Ellis only would say that she could prosecute the man for obtaining + money on false pretences, and this she trusted meant getting it back + again. As to the cheque in question, she told how Dolores had entrusted it + to her to send to her supposed uncle, Mr. Flinders, to whom it had been + promised the day they went to Darminster, and she was quite ready to + depose that when it left her hands, it was only for seven pounds. + </p> + <p> + This was all that the bank manager wanted. He thanked her, told Colonel + Mohun they should hear from him, and went off in a hurry, both to + communicate with the police, and to leave the young ladies to be dealt + with by their friends, who, he might well suppose, would rather that he + removed himself. + </p> + <p> + ‘Put on your hat, Dolores,’ said Colonel Mohun, gravely; ‘you had better + come home with me! Miss Hacket, excuse me, but I am afraid I must ask + whether you have been assisting in a correspondence between my niece and + this Flinders?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! Colonel Mohun, you will believe me, I was quite deceived. Dolores + represented that he was her uncle, to whom she was much attached, and that + Lady Merrifield separated her from him out of mere family prejudice.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am afraid you have paid dearly for your sympathy,’ said the colonel. + ‘It certainly led you far when you assisted your friend to deceive the + aunt who trusted you with her.’ + </p> + <p> + The movement that was taking place seemed like licence to that roomful, + burning with curiosity to break out. Mysie was running after Dolores to + ask if she could do anything for her, but Colonel Mohun called her back + with ‘Not now, Mysie.’ Miss Hacket came forward with agitated hopes that + nothing was amiss, and, at sight of her, Constance collapsed quite. ‘Oh, + Mary,’ she cried out, ‘I have been so deceived! Oh! that man!’ and she + sunk upon a chair in a violent fit of crying, which alarmed Miss Hacket so + dreadfully that she looked imploringly up to Colonel Mohun. He had meant + to have left Miss Constance to explain, but he saw it was necessary to + relieve the poor elder sister’s mind from worse fears by saying, ‘I am + afraid it is my niece who deceived her, by leading her into forwarding + letters and money to a person who calls himself a relation. He seems to + have been guilty of a forgery, which may have unpleasant consequences. + Children, I think you had better follow us home.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores had come down by this time, and Colonel Mohun walked home, at some + paces from her, very much as if he had been guarding a criminal under + arrest. Poor Uncle Reginald! He had put such absolute trust in the two + answers she had made him in the morning; and had been so sure of her good + faith, that when the manager brought word that the cheque had been traced + to Flinders, who had absconded, he still held that it was a barefaced + forgery, entirely due to Flinders himself, and that Dolores could show + that she had no knowledge of it, and he had gone down in the fly expecting + to come home triumphant, and confute his sister Jane, who persisted in + being mournfully sagacious. And he was indignant in proportion to the + confidence he had misplaced; grieved, too, for his brother’s sake, and + absolutely ashamed. + </p> + <p> + Once he asked, when they were within the paddock, out of the way of + meeting any one, ‘Have you nothing to say to me, Dolores?’ + </p> + <p> + It was not said in a manner to draw out an answer, and she made none at + all. + </p> + <p> + Again he spoke, as they came near the house: + </p> + <p> + ‘You had better go up to your room at once. I do not know how to think of + the blow this will be to your father.’ + </p> + <p> + It was so entirely what Dolores was thinking of, that it seemed to her + barbarous to tell her of it In fact she was stunned, scarcely + understanding what had happened, and too proud and miserable to ask for an + explanation, for had not every one turned against her, even Uncle Reginald + and Constance—and what had happened to that cheque? + </p> + <p> + She did not see Uncle Reginald turn into the drawing-room, and letting + himself drop despairingly into an armchair, say, ‘Well, Jane, you were + right, more’s the pity!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She really gave him the cheque!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, but at least it was only for seven. The rascal himself must have + altered it into seventy. She and the other girl both agree as to that. + There’s been a clandestine correspondence going on with that scamp ever + since she has been here, under cover to that precious friend of hers—that + Hacket girl.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! you warned me, Jenny,’ said Lady Merrifield ‘But I’m quite sure Miss + Hacket knew nothing of it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t suppose she did. She seemed struck all of a heap. Any way they’ve + quarrelled now; the other one has turned King’s evidence—has lost + some money too, and says Dolores deceived her. She’s deceived every one + all round, that’s the fact. Why she told me two flat lies this very + morning—lies—there’s no other name for it. What will you do + with her, Lily?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know,’ said Lady Merrifield, utterly shocked, and recollecting, + but not mentioning, the falsehood told to her about the note. Lord + Rotherwood said, ‘Poor child,’ and Colonel Mohun groaned, ‘Poor Maurice.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then she did go to Darminster?’ said Miss Mohun. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes; that came out from this Miss Constance, who seems to have been + properly taken in about some publishing trash. Serve her right! But it + seems Dolores beguiled her with stories about her dear uncle in distress. + We left her nearly in hysterics, and I told the children to come away.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What does Dolores say?’ asked Jane. + </p> + <p> + ‘Nothing! I could not get a word out of her after the first surprise at + the alteration of the cheque. Not a word nor a tear. She is as hard—as + hard as a bit of stone.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Really,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘I can’t help thinking there’s a good deal + of excuse for her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What? That poor Maurice’s wife was half a heathen, and afterwards the + girl was left to chance?’ said Colonel Mohun. ‘I see no other. And you, + Lily, are the last person I should expect to excuse untruth.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I did not mean to do that, Regie; but you all say that poor Mary was fond + of this man and helped him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That she did!’ said Lord Rotherwood, ‘and very much against the grain it + went with Maurice.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then don’t you see that this poor child, who probably never had the + matter explained to her, may have felt it a great hardship to be cut off + from the man her mother taught her to care for; and that may have led her + into concealments?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well!’ said Colonel Mohun, ‘at that rate, at least one may be thankful + never to have married.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘One—or two, Regie?’ said Jane, as they all laughed at his sally. ‘I + think I had better go up and see whether I can get anything out of the + child. Do you mean to have her down to dinner, Lily,’ she added, glancing + at the clock. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, certainly. I don’t want to put her to disgrace before all the + children and servants—that is, if she is not crying herself out of + condition to appear, poor child.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not she,’ said Uncle Reginald. + </p> + <p> + On opening the door, the children were all discovered in the hall, in + anxious curiosity, not venturing in uncalled, but very much puzzled. + </p> + <p> + Gillian came forward and said, ‘Mamma, may we know what is the matter?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I hardly understand it myself yet, my dear, only that Dolores and + Constance Hacket have let themselves be taken in by a sort of relation of + Dolores’s mother, and Uncle Maurice has lost a good deal of money through + it. It would not have happened if there had been fair and upright dealing + towards me; but we do not know the rights of it, and you had better take + no notice of it to her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought,’ said Valetta, sagaciously, ‘no good could come of running + after that stupid Miss Constance.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Who can’t pull a cracker, and screams at a daddy long-legs,’ added + Fergus. + </p> + <p> + ‘But, mamma, what shall we do?’ said Gillian. ‘I came away because Uncle + Regie told us, and Constance was crying so terribly; but what is poor Miss + Hacket to do? There is the tree only half dressed, and all the girls + coming to-night, unless she puts them off.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, you had better go down alone as soon as dinner is over, and see what + she would like,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘We must not leave her in the + lurch, as if we cast her off, though I am afraid Constance has been very + foolish in this matter. Oh, Gillian, I wish we could have made Dolores + happier amongst us, and then this would not have happened.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She would never let us, mamma,’ said Gillian. + </p> + <p> + But Mysie, coming up close to her mother as they all went up the broad + staircase to prepare for the midday meal, confessed in a grave little + voice, ‘Mamma, I think I have sometimes been cross to Dolly-more lately, + because it has been so very tiresome.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield drew the little girl into her own room, stooped down, and + kissed her, saying, ‘My dear child, these things need a great deal of + patience. You will have to be doubly kind and forbearing now, for she must + be very unhappy, and perhaps not like to show it. You might say a little + prayer for her, that God will help us to be kind to her, and soften her + heart.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, mamma; and, please, will you set it down for me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, my dear, and for myself too. You shall have it before bed-time.’ + </p> + <p> + Aunt Jane had followed Dolores to her own room the girl, who was sitting + on her bed, dazed, regretted that she had not bolted her door, as her aunt + entered with the words, ‘Oh, Dolores, I am very sorry I could not have + thought you would so have abused the confidence that was placed in you.’ + </p> + <p> + To this Dolores did not answer. To her mind she was the person ill-used by + the prohibition of correspondence, but she could not say so. Every one was + falling on her; but Aunt Jane’s questions could not well help being + answered. + </p> + <p> + ‘What will your father think of if?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He never forbade me to write to Uncle Alfred’ said Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘Because he never thought of your doing such a thing. Did he give you this + cheque?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For yourself?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘N-n-o. But it was the same.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What do you mean by that?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It was to pay a man—a man’s that’s dead.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That may be; but what right did that give you to spend the money + otherwise? Who was the man?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Professor Muhlwasser, for some books of plates.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How do you know he is dead! Who told you so? Eh! Was it Flinders? Ah! you + see what comes of trusting to an unprincipled man like that. If you had + only been open and straightforward with Aunt Lily, or with any of us, you + would have been saved from this tissue of falsehood; forfeiting your Uncle + Reginald’s good opinion, and enabling Flinders to do your father this + great injury.’ She paused, and, as Dolores made no answer, she went on + again—‘Indeed, there is no saying what you have not brought on + yourself by your deceit and disobedience. If Flinders is apprehended, you + will have to appear against him in court, and publicly avow that you gave + away what your father trusted to you.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores gave a little moan and start, and her aunt, perceiving that she + had touched an apparently vulnerable spot, proceeded—‘The only thing + left for you to do is to tell the whole story frankly and honestly. I + don’t say so only for the sake of showing Aunt Lily that you are sorry for + having abused her confidence. I wish I could think that you are; but, + unless we know all, we cannot shield you from any further consequences, + and that of course we should wish to do, for your father’s sake.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores did not feel drawn to confession, but she knew that when Aunt Jane + once set herself to ask questions, there was no use in trying to conceal + anything. So she made answers, chiefly ‘Yes’ or No,’ and her aunt, by + severe and diligent pumping, had extracted bit by bit what it was most + essential should be known, before the gong summoned them. Dolores would + rather have been a solitary prisoner, able to chafe against oppression, + than have been obliged to come down and confront everybody; but she crept + into the place left for her between Mysie and Wilfred. She had very little + appetite, and never found out how Mysie was fulfilling her resolution of + kindness by baulking Wilfred of sundry attempts to tease; by substituting + her own kissing-crust for Dolly’s more unpoetical piece of bread; and + offering to exchange her delicious strawberry-jam tartlet for the + black-currant one at which her cousin was looking with reluctant eyes. + </p> + <p> + Mysie and Valetta were grievously exercised about their chances of + returning to the G.F.S. Tree. Indeed Gillian went the length of telling + them that Fly was behaving far better in her disappointment as to the + Butterfly’s Ball than they were as to this ‘old second-hand tree.’ Fly + laughed and observed, ‘Dear me, things one would like are always being + stopped. If one was to mind every time, how horrid it would be! And + there’s always something to make up!’ + </p> + <p> + Then it occurred to Gillian, though not to her younger sisters, that Lady + Phyllis Devereux lived in general a much less indulged, and more + frequently disappointed, life than did herself and her sisters. + </p> + <p> + However, there was great delight at that dinner-table. Jasper had ridden + to get the letters of the second post, and Lord Rotherwood had his hands + and his head full of them when he came in to luncheon—there being + what Lady Merrifield called a respectable dinner in view. In the first + place. Lord Ivinghoe was getting on very well, and was up, sitting by the + fire, playing patience. Nobody was catching the measles, and quarantine + would be over on the 9th of January. Secondly, ‘Fly, shall you be very + broken-hearted if I tell you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, daddy, you wouldn’t look like that if it was anything very bad! Lion + isn’t dead?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No; but I grieve to say your unnatural grand-parents don’t want you! + Grandmamma is nervous about having you without mamma. What did we do last + time we were there, Fly?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t you remember, daddy? they said there was nothing for me to ride to + the meet, and you and Griffin put the side-saddle on Crazy Kate, and we + went out with the hounds, and I’ve got the brush up in my room!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t wonder grandmamma is nervous,’ observed Lady Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘Will you be nervous, Lily,’ said Lord Rotherwood, ‘if this same flyaway + mortal is left on your hands till the 9th?’ + </p> + <p> + Dinner, manners, silence before company, and all, could not repress a + general scream of ecstacy, which called forth the reply. ‘I should think + you and her mother were the people to be nervous. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! my lady has been duly instructed in Merrifield perfections, and + esteems you a model mother.’ + </p> + <p> + The children’s nods and smiles said ‘Hear, hear!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, you’ve got it all in her own letter,’ continued Lord Rotherwood. + ‘You see, they’ve got a caucus at High Court, and a dinner, and I must go + up there on Monday; but if you’ll keep this dangerous Fly—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I can answer for the pleasure it will give,’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well then, I’ll come back for her by the 9th, and you’ve Victoria’s + letter, haven’t you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, it is very kind of her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then I shall expect you to be ready to start with me for the Butterfly’s + Ball. Eh, young ladies, what will you come out as?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh daddy, daddy, is it? Has mamma asked them? Oh! it is more delicious + than anything ever was. Mysie, Mysie, what will you be?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The sly little dormouse crept out of his hole,’ quoted Mysie, in a very + low, happy voice. + </p> + <p> + ‘And I will be a jolly old frog,’ shouted Fergus, finding the ordinance of + silence broken and making the most of it, on the presumption that the + whole family were invited. However, the tone, rather than the + uncomprehended words of his mother’s answer, ‘Nobody asked you, sir,’ she + said, reduced him to silence, and it became understood, through Fly’s + inquiries, that the invitation included Lady Merrifield must make her + acceptance doubtful. And besides, the question which three were to go was + the unspoken drawback to full bliss, and yet the delight was exceedingly + great in the prospect, great enough to make the contrast of gloom in poor + Dolores’s spirit all the darker, as she sat, left out of everything, and + she could not now say, with absolute injustice, though she still clung to + the belief that there was more misfortune than fault in her disgrace. + </p> + <p> + She crept away, shivering with unhappiness, to the schoolroom, while the + others frisked off discussing the wonderful Butterfly’s Ball. Lady + Merrifield looked in on her, and she hardened herself to endure either + another probing or fresh reproaches, but all she heard was, ‘My dear, I + cannot talk over this sad affair now, as I have to go out. But, if you + can, I think you had better write to your father about it, and let him + understand exactly how it happened. Or, if you had rather write than speak + in explaining it to me, you can do so, and we can consider tomorrow what + is to be done about it.’ + </p> + <p> + Then she went out with her brother and cousin to drive to some Industrial + schools which Lord Rotherwood wanted to see. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. — THE BUTTERFLY’S BALL. + </h2> + <p> + Miss Mohun went to the Casement Cottages with Gillian to see what the + elder Miss Hacket might wish and whether they could be of use to her; the + young people being left to exercise themselves within call in case the + Tree was to be continued. + </p> + <p> + This proved to be an act of great kindness, for poor Mary Hacket was + suffering all the distress of an upright and honourable woman at her + sister’s abuse of confidence; and had felt as if Colonel Mohun’s summons + to his nieces was the close of all intimacy with such an unworthy + household. Moreover, the evenings entertainment could not be given up and + Gillian was despatched to summon the eager assistants, while Aunt Jane + repeated her assurances that Lady Merrifield perfectly understood Miss + Hacket’s ignorance of the doings in Constance’s room—listening + patiently even when the tender-hearted woman began to excuse her sister + for having accepted Dolores’s lamentations at being cut off from her + so-called uncle. ‘Dear Connie is so romantic, and so easily touched,’ she + said, ‘though, of course, it was very wrong of her to suppose that Lady + Merrifield could do anything harsh or unkind. She is in great grief now, + poor darling, she feels so bitterly that her friend led her into it by + deceiving her about the relationship and character.’ + </p> + <p> + This, Aunt Jane did not think the worst part of the affair, and she said + that the girl had been brought up to call the man Uncle Alfred, and very + possibly did not understand that he was only so by courtesy, nor that he + was so utterly untrustworthy. + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought so,’ said Mary Hacket. ‘I told Connie that such a child could + not possibly have been a willing party to his fraud—for fraud, I + fear, it was—Miss Mohun. Do you think there is any hope of her + recovering the sum she advanced.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am afraid there is not, even if the wretched man is apprehended.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! if she had only told me what she wanted it for!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I hope it was all her own.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Miss Mohun, no doubt you know that two sisters living together must + accommodate one another a little, and Connie’s dress expenses, at her age, + are necessarily more than mine. But here come the dear children, and we + ought to dismiss all painful subjects, though I declare I am so nervous I + hardly know what I am about.’ + </p> + <p> + However, by Miss Mohun’s help, the good lady rose to the occasion, and + when once busy, the trouble was thrown off, so that no guests would have + detected how unhappy she had been in the forenoon. Constance soon came + down, and confided to Gillian a parcel directed to Miss D. Mohun, + containing all the notes written to her, and all the books lent to her, by + the false friend whom she had cast off, after which she threw herself into + the interests of the present. + </p> + <p> + The London ornaments, and the residue of the gifts and bonbons, made the + Christmas-tree a most memorable one to the G.F.S. mind. + </p> + <p> + As to Fly, she fraternized to a great extent with a very small maid, in a + very long, brown dress, and very thick boots, who did not taste a single + bonbon, and being asked whether she understood that they were good to eat, + replied that she was keeping them for ‘our Bertie and Minnie;’ and, on + encouragement, launched into such a description of her charges—the + blacksmith’s small children—that Lady Phyllis went back, not without + regrets that she could not be a little nurse who had done with school at + twelve years old, and spent her days at the back of a perambulator. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, daddy,’ she said, ‘I do wish you had come down; it was such lovely + fun—the best tree I ever saw. Why wouldn’t you come?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If thirty odd years should pass over that little head of yours, my Lady + Fly, and you should then meet with Mysie and Val, maybe you will then + learn the reason why.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We will recollect that in thirty years’ time.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘When our children go to a Christmas-tree.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And we sit over the fire instead.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! but should we ever not care for a dear, delightful Christmas-tree?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If we had each other instead.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then we would all go still together!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And tell our little boys and girls all about this one, and the + Butterfly’s Ball!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps our husbands would want us, and not let us go.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! I don’t want a husband. He’d be in the way. We’d send him off to + India or somewhere, like Aunt Lily’s.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t, Fly; it is not at all nice to have papa away.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, it would be ten hundred times better if he were at home.’ + </p> + <p> + Such were the mingled sentiments of the triad, as they went upstairs to + bed, linked together in their curious fashion. + </p> + <p> + Some time later, a bedroom discussion of affairs was held by Lady + Merrifield and Miss Mohun, who had not had a moment alone together all + day, to converse upon the two versions of the disaster which the latter + had extracted from Dolores and Constance, and which fairly agreed, though + Constance had been by far the most voluble, and somewhat ungenerously + violent against her former friend, at least so Lady Merrifield remarked. + </p> + <p> + ‘You should take into account the authoress’s disappointed vanity.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, poor thing! How he must have nattered her!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Besides, there is the loss of the money, which, I fear, falls as + seriously on good Miss Hacket as on the goose herself.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Does it, indeed? That must not be. How much is it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Fifteen pounds; and that foolish Constance fancies that poor Dolores + assisted in duping her. I really had to defend the girl; though I am just + as angry myself when I watch her adamantine sullenness.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am the person to be angry with for having allowed the intimacy, in + spite of your warnings, Jenny.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You were too innocent to know what girls are made of. Oh yes, you are + very welcome to have six of your own, but you might have six dozen without + knowing what a girl brought up at a second-rate boarding-school is capable + of, or what it is to have had no development of conscience. What shall you + do? send her to school?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘After that recommendation of yours?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I didn’t propose a second-rate boarding-school, ma’am. There’s a High + School starting after the holidays at Rockstone. Let me have her, and send + her there.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ada would not like it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Never mind Ada, I’ll settle her. I would keep Dolly well up to her + lessons, and prevent these friendships.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose you would manage her better than I have been able to do,’ said + Lady Merrifield, reluctantly. ‘Yet I should like to try again; I don’t + want to let her go. Is it the old story of duty and love, Jane? Have I + failed again through negligence and ignorance, and deceived myself by + calling weakness and blindness love?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You don’t fail with your own, Lily. Rotherwood runs about admiring them, + and saying he never saw a better union of freedom and obedience. It was + really a treat to see Gillian’s ways tonight; she had so much + consideration, and managed her sisters so well.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, but there’s their father! I do so dread spoiling them for him before + he comes home; but then he is a present influence with us all the time.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They would all clap their hands if I carried Dolly off.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, and that is one reason I don’t want to give her up; it seems so sad + to send Maurice’s child away leaving such an impression. One thing I am + thankful for, that it will be all over before grandmamma and Bessie + Merrifield come.’ + </p> + <p> + At that moment there was a knock at the door, and a small figure appeared + in a scarlet robe, bare feet, and dishevelled hair. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mysie, dear child! What’s the matter? who is ill?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, please come, mamma, Dolly is choking and crying in such a dreadful + way, and I can’t stop her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I give up, Lily. This is mother-work,’ said Miss Mohun. + </p> + <p> + Hurrying upstairs, Lady Merrifield found very distressing sounds issuing + from Dolores’s room; sobs, not loud, but almost strangled into a perfect + agony of choking down by the resolute instinct, for it was scarcely will. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, my dear, don’t stop it!’ she exclaimed, lifting up the girl in + her arms. ‘Let it out; cry freely; never mind. She will be better soon, + Mysie dear. Only get me a glass of water, and find a fresh handkerchief. + There, there, that’s right!’ as Dolores let herself lean on the kind + breast, and conscious that the utmost effects of the disturbance had come, + allowed her long-drawn sobs to come freely, and moaned as they shook her + whole frame, though without screaming. Her aunt propped her up on her own + bosom, parted back her hair, kissed her, and saying she was getting + better, sent Mysie back to her bed. The first words that were gasped out + between the rending sobs were, ‘Oh! is my—he—to be tried?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Most likely not, my dear. He has had full time to get away, and I hope it + is so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But wasn’t he there? Haven’t they got him? Weren’t they asking me about + him, and saying I must be tried for stealing father’s cheque?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You were dreaming, my poor child. They have not taken him, and I am quite + sure you will not be tried anyway.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They said—Aunt Jane and Uncle Reginald and all, and ‘that dreadful + man that came—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps they said you might have to be examined, but only if he is + apprehended, and I fully expect that he is out of reach, so that you need + not frighten yourself about that, my dear.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, don’t go!’ cried Dolores, as her aunt stirred. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I’m not going. I was only reaching some water for you. Let me sponge + your face.’ + </p> + <p> + To this Dolores submitted gratefully, and then sighed, as if under heavy + oppression, ‘And did he really do it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am afraid he must have done so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I never thought it. Mother always helped him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, my dear, that made it very hard for you to know what was right to + do, and this is a most terrible shock for you,’ said her aunt, feeling + unable to utter another reproach just then to one who had been so loaded + with blame, and she was touched the more when Dolores moaned, ‘Mother + would have cared so much.’ + </p> + <p> + She answered with a kiss, was glad to find her hand still held, and forgot + that it was past eleven o’clock. + </p> + <p> + ‘Please, will it quite ruin father?’ asked Dolores, who had not outgrown + childish confusion about large sums of money. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not exactly, my dear. It was more than he had in the bank, and Uncle + Regie thinks the bankers will undertake part of the loss if he will let + them. It is more inconvenient than ruinous.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ There was a faintness and oppression in the sound which made Lady + Merrifield think the girl ought not to be left, and before long, sickness + came on. Nurse Halfpenny had to be called up, and it was one o’clock + before there was a quiet, comfortable sleep, which satisfied the aunt and + nurse that it was safe to repair to their own beds again. + </p> + <p> + The dreary, undefined self-reproach and vague alarms, intensified by the + sullen, reserved temper, and culminating in such a shock, alienating the + only persons she cared for, and filling her with terror for the future, + could not but have a physical effect, and Dolores was found on the morrow + with a bad head-ache, and altogether in a state to be kept in bed, with a + fire in her room. + </p> + <p> + Gillian and Mysie were much impressed by the intelligence of their + cousin’s illness when they came to their mother’s room on the way to + breakfast, and Mysie turned to her sister, saying, ‘There Gill, you see + she did care, though she didn’t cry like us. Being ill is more than + crying.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said Gillian, ‘it is a good deal more than such things as you and + Val cry for, Mysie.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It was a trial such as you don’t understand, my dears,’ said Lady + Merrifield. ‘I don’t, of course, excuse much that she did, but she had + been used to see her mother make every exertion to help the man.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That does make a difference,’ said Gillian, ‘but she shouldn’t have taken + her father’s money. And wasn’t it dreadful of Constance to smuggle her + letters? I’m quite glad Constance gets part of the punishment.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Certainly, that might be just, Gillian, but unfortunately the loss falls + infinitely more heavily upon Miss Hacket, who cannot afford the loss at + all.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh dear!’ cried Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m very sorry,’ said Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘And, my dear girls, in all honour and honesty, we must make it up to + her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Can’t we save it out of our allowance?’ said Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Sixpence a month from you, a shilling perhaps from Gill, how long would + that take? No, my dear girls, I am going to put you to a heavy trial.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, mamma, don’t!’ cried Gillian, seeing what she was driving at. ‘Don’t + give up the Butterfly’s Ball.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, don’t!’ implored Mysie, tears starting in her eyes. ‘We never saw a + costume ball, and Fly wishes it so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And I thought you had promised,’ said Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘Cousin Rotherwood assumes that I did; but I did not really accept. I told + him I could not tell, for you know your Grandmamma Merrifield talked of + coming here, and I cannot put her off. And now I see that it must be given + up.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It need only be calico!’ sighed Gillian, sticking pins in and out of the + pincushion. + </p> + <p> + ‘Fancy dresses even in calico are very expensive. Besides, I could not go + to a place like Rotherwood without at least two new dresses, and it is not + right to put papa to more expense.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, mamma! couldn’t you? You always do look nicer than any one,’ said + Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, I am afraid nothing I have at present would be suitable for a + General’s wife at Lady Rotherwood’s party, and we must think of what would + be fitting both towards our hostess and papa. Don’t you see?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! your velvet dress!’ sighed Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘My poor old faithful state apparel,’ smiled Lady Merrifield. ‘Poor Gill, + you did not think again to have to mourn for it, but I don’t know that + even that could have been sufficiently revivified, though it was my cheval + de bataille for so many years. + </p> + <p> + For Lady Merrifield’s black velvet of many years’ usefulness, had been put + on for her p.p.c. party at Belfast, when Gillian, in abetting Jasper in + roasting chestnuts over a paraffin-lamp, had set herself and the + tablecloth on fire, and had been extinguished with such damages as singed + hair, a scar on Jasper’s hands, and the destruction of her mother’s ‘front + breadth.’ There had been such relief and thankfulness at its being no + worse that the ‘state apparel’ had not been much mourned, especially as + the remains made a charming pelisse for Primrose; and in the retirement of + Silverton, it had not been missed till the present occasion. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do gowns cost so very much?’ said Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed they do, my poor Mouse. The lamented cost more than twenty pounds. + I had been thinking whether I could afford the requisite garments—not + quite so costly—and thought I might get them for about sixteen, with + contrivance; but you see I feel it my fault that I let Dolores go and lead + Constance to get cheated, and I cannot take the money out of what papa + gives for household expenses and your education, so it must come out of my + own personal allowance. Don’t you see?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ye—es,’ said Gillian, apparently intent on getting a big, + black-headed pin repeatedly into the same hole, while Mysie was trying + with all her might not to cry. + </p> + <p> + ‘You are thinking it is very hard that you should suffer for Dolly’s + faults. Perhaps it is, but such things may often happen to you, my dears. + Christians bear them well for love’s sake, you know.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And it is a little my fault,’ said Gillian, thoughtfully; ‘for it was I + that let the chestnut fall into the lamp.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I—I don’t think I should have minded so much,’ said Mysie, almost + crying, ‘if we had done it our own selves—and Fly too—for some + very poor woman in the snow.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I know that very well, Mysie, and this is a much harder trial, as you + don’t get the honour and glory of it; and, besides, you will have to take + care to say not a word of this reason to Fly or Valetta, or any one else.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Val will be awfully disappointed,’ said Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor Val! But I should not have taken her anyway, so that matters the + less. I should have taken Jasper, for that would have been more convenient + than so many girls. In fact, I did not mean anybody to have heard of it + till I had made up my mind, so that there would have been no + disappointment; but that naughty Cousin Rotherwood could not keep it to + himself; and so, my poor maidens, you have to bear it with a good grace, + and to be treated as my confidential friends.’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie smiled and kissed her mother—Gillian cleared somewhat, but + observing, ‘I only wish it wasn’t clothes;’ tried to dismiss the subject + as the gong began to sound, but Mysie caught her mother’s dress, and said, + ‘Mayn’t I tell Fly, for a great secret?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, my dear, certainly not. Fly is a dear little girl, but we don’t know + how she can keep secrets, and it would never do to let the Rotherwoods + know; papa and Uncle William would be exceedingly annoyed. And only think + of Miss Hacket’s feelings if it came round. It will be hard enough to get + her to take it now.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps she won’t,’ flashed into the minds of both girls; but Mysie said + entreatingly, ‘One moment more, mamma, please! What can I say to Fly that + will be the truth?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Say that I find we cannot go, and that I had never promised,’ said Lady + Merrifield. ‘I trust you, my dears.’ + </p> + <p> + And as she opened the door to hurry down to prayers, the two sisters felt + the words very precious and inspiriting. Mysie lingered on the step and + bravely asked Gillian whether her eyes looked like crying— + </p> + <p> + ‘No, only a little twinkly,’ answered the elder sister; ‘they will be all + right after prayers if you don’t rub them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I won’t, said Mysie; “I’ll try to mean ‘Thy will be done.’ For I + suppose it is His will, though it is mamma’s.” + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m glad you thought of that, Mysie,’ said Gillian; ‘you see it is + mamma’s goodness.’ And Gillian added to herself, “dear little Mysie too. + If it had not been for her, I believe I should have ‘grizzled’ all + prayer-time, and now I hope I shall attend instead.” + </p> + <p> + When everybody rose up from their knees, Lady Merrifield was glad to see + two fairly cheerful faces. She tried to lessen the responsibility of the + confidants, and to get the matter settled by telling Lord Rotherwood at + once and publicly that she had thought his kind invitation over, and that + she found she must not accept it. Perhaps she warily took the moment after + she had seen the postman coming up the drive, for he had only time to say, + ‘Now, that’s too bad, Lily, you don’t mean it,’ and she to answer, ‘Yes, + in sad earnest, I do,’ before the letters came in, and the attention of + the elders was taken off by the distribution. + </p> + <p> + But Valetta whispered to Gillian, ‘Not going; oh why?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No; never mind, you wouldn’t have gone, anyway—hush—’ said + Gillian, beginning, it may be, a little sharply, but then becoming + dismayed as Valetta, perhaps a little unhinged by the late pleasures, + burst forth into such a fit of crying as made everybody look up, and her + mother tell her to go away if she could not behave better. Gillian, + understanding a sign of the head as permission, led her away, hearing Lord + Rotherwood observe,— + </p> + <p> + ‘There, you cruel party!’ before again becoming absorbed in his letter. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh dear!’ sighed Fly, turning to Mysie as they rose from table, ‘I am so + sorry! It would have been so nice; and I thought we were safe, as mamma + had written herself!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! but my mamma hadn’t accepted,’ said Mysie. + </p> + <p> + Phyllis seemed to take this as final, and sighed, but Mysie presently + exclaimed, ‘I say! can’t we all play at Butterfly’s Ball in the hall after + lessons?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Lessons?’ said Fly; ‘but it’s holiday-time?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma always makes us do a sort of little lesson, even in the holidays, + as she says we get naughty. But I suppose you need not; and perhaps she + will not make us now you are here.’ + </p> + <p> + Colonel Mohun and Lord Rotherwood were going to Darminster to see what was + the state of the investigation about Mr. Flinders. They set out directly + after breakfast, and after the feeding of the pets, where Valetta joined + them, much consoled by the prospect of the extemporary Butterfly’s Ball at + home, Lady Phyllis, with her usual ready adaptability, repaired with the + others to the schoolroom, where the Psalms and Lessons were read, and a + small amount of French reading in turn from ‘En Quarantaine’ followed, + with accompaniment of needlework or drawing, after which the children were + free. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Jane was going home to her Sunday school and the Rockstone + festivities. She came down for her final talk with her sister just in time + to perceive the folding up of three five-pound notes. + </p> + <p> + ‘Lily,’ she said, with instant perception, ‘I could beat myself for what I + told you yesterday.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield laughed. ‘The girls are very good about it!’ she said. + ‘Now you have found it out, see whether that note will make Miss Hacket + swallow it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Can’t be better! But oh. Lily, it is disgusting! Could not I rig up + something fanciful for the children?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s not so much the point. ‘The General’s lady,’ as Mrs. Halfpenny + would say, is bound not to look like ‘ane scrub,’ as she would be + unwelcome to Victoria, and what would be William’s feelings? I could + hardly have accomplished it even with this, and the catastrophe settles + the matter.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You could not get into my black satin?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I thank you, my dear little Brownie,’ said Lady Merrifield, + elongating herself like a girl measuring heights. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ada has a larger assortment, as well as a taller person,’ continued Miss + Jane, ‘but then they are rather ‘henspeckle,’ and they have all made their + first appearance at Rotherwood.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no, thank you, my dear, Jasper would not like the notion—even + if there was not more of me than of Ada. I have no doubt it is much better + for us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Should you have liked it, Lily?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For once in a way. For Rotherwood’s sake, dear old fellow. Yes, I + should.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, well! You are a bit of a grande dame yourself. Ada enjoys it, too, or + I don’t think I ever should go there.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Surely Victoria behaves well to you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Far be it from me to say she is not exemplary in her perfect civility to + all her husband’s relations. Ada thinks her charming; but oh. Lily, you’ve + never found out what it is to be a little person in a great person’s + house, and to feel one’s self scrupulously made one of the family, because + her husband is so much attached to all of them. There’s nothing + spontaneous about it! I dare say you would get on better, though You are + not a country-town old maid; you would have an air of the world and of + distinction even if you went in your old grey poplin.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I thought better of my lady.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You ought not! She makes great efforts, I am sure, and is a pattern of + graciousness and cordiality—only that’s just what riles one, when + one knows one is just as well born, and all the rest of it. And then I’m + provided with the clever men, and the philanthropical folk to talk to. I + know it’s a great compliment, and they are very nice, but I’d ten times + rather take my chance among them. However, now I’ve made the grapes sour + for you, what do you think about Dolores? Will you send her to us?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not immediately, at any rate, dear Jane. It is very kind in you to wish + to take her off our hands, but I do want to try her a little longer. I + thought she seemed to be softening last night.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She was as hard as ever when I went in to wish her good-bye.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought she had too much headache for conversation when I went in last; + I think this is a regular upset from unhappiness and reserve.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Alias temper and deceitfulness.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Something of both. You know the body often suffers when things are not + thrown out in a wholesome explosion at once, but go simmering on; and I + mean to let this poor child alone till she is well.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! here comes the pony-carriage. Well, Lily, send her to me if you + repent.’ + </p> + <p> + The sisters came out to find the Butterfly’s Ball in full action. Fly had + become a Butterfly by the help of a battered pair of fairy wings, + stretched on wire, which were part of the theatrical stock. ‘The shy + little Dormouse’ was creeping about on all fours under a fur jacket, with + a dilapidated boa for a long tail, but her ‘blind brother the Mole’ had + escaped from her, and had been transformed into the Frog, by means of a + spotted handkerchief over his back, and tremendous leap-frog jumps. + Primrose, in another pair of fairy wings, was personating the Dragon-fly + and all his relations, ‘green, orange, and blue.’ Valetta, in perfect + content with the present, with a queer pair of ears, and a tail made of an + old brush, sat up and nibbled as Squirrel. The Grasshopper was performing + antics which made him not easily distinguishable from the Frog, and the + Spider was actually descending by a rope from the balusters, while his + mother, standing somewhat aghast, breathed a hope that ‘poor Harlequin’s’ + fall was not part of the programme. But she did not interfere, having + trust in the gymnastics that were studied at school by Jasper, who had + been beguiled into the game by Fly’s fascinations. + </p> + <p> + ‘A far more realistic performance than the Rotherwood Butterfly’s Ball is + likely to be,’ said Aunt Jane, aside, as the various guests came up for + her departing kiss. ‘And much more entertaining, if they could only think + so. Where’s Gillian?’ + </p> + <p> + Gillian appeared on the stairs in her own person at the moment. She said + Mrs. Halfpenny had called her, and told her that ‘Miss Dollars’ was + crying, and that she did not think the child ought to be left alone long + to fret herself, but Saturday morning needments called away nurse herself, + so she had ordered in Miss Gillian as her substitute. Gillian was reading + to her, and had only come away to make her farewells to Aunt Jane. + </p> + <p> + ‘That is right, my dear,’ said her mother; ‘I will come and sit with her + after luncheon.’ + </p> + <p> + For the whole youthful family were to turn out to superintend the + replantation of the much-enduring fir, which, it was hoped, might survive + for many another Christmas. + </p> + <p> + However, Lady Merrifield could not keep her promise, for a whole party of + visitors arrived just after the children’s dinner was over. + </p> + <p> + ‘And it’s old Mrs. Norgood,’ sighed Gillian, looking over the balusters, + ‘and she always slays for ages!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘One of you young ladies must bide with Miss Dollars,’ said Nurse + Halfpenny, decidedly, ‘or we shall have her fretting herself ill again.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, nursie, can’t you?’ entreated Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘Me, Miss Gillian! How can I, when Miss Primrose is going out with the + whole clamjamfrie, and all the laddies, into the wet plantations? Na—one + of ye maun keep the lassie company. Ye’ve had your turn, Miss Gillian, so + it should be Miss Mysie. It winna hurt ye, bairn, ye that hae been + rampaging ower the house all the morning.’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie knew it was her turn, but she also knew that nurse always favoured + Gillian and snubbed her. She had a devouring longing to be with her dear + Fly, and a certain sense that she was the preferred one. Must another + pleasure be sacrificed to that very naughty Dolores, whose misdemeanours + had deprived them of the visit to Rotherwood. She looked so dismal that + Gillian said good-naturedly, ‘Really, Mysie, I don’t think mamma would + mind Dolores’s being left a little while; I must go down to see about the + Tree, because mamma gave me a message to old Webb, but I’ll come back + directly. Or perhaps Dolly is going to sleep, and does not want any one. + Go and see.’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie on this crept quietly into the room, full of hope of escape, but + Dolores was anything but asleep. ‘Oh, are you come, Mysie? Now you’ll go + on with the story. I tried, but my eyes ache at the back of them, and I + can’t.’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie’s fate was sealed. She sat down by the fire and took up the book, ‘A + Story for the Schoolroom,’ one of the new ones given from the Tree. It was + the middle of the story, and she did not care about it at first, + especially when she heard Fly’s voice, and all the others laughing and + chattering on the stairs. + </p> + <p> + ‘Didn’t they care for her absence?’ and her voice grew thick, and her eyes + dim; but Dolores must not think her cross and unwilling, and she made a + great effort, became interested in the girls there described, and wondered + whether staying with Fly would have turned her head, after the example of + the heroine of the book. + </p> + <p> + Dolores did not seem to want to talk. In fact, she was clinging to the + reading, because she could not bear to speak or think of the state of + affairs, and the story seemed, as it were, to drown her misery. She knew + that her aunt and cousins were far less severe with her than she expected, + but that could only be because she was ill. Had not Uncle Reginald turned + against her, and Constance? It would all come upon her as soon as she came + out of her room, and she was rather sorry to believe that she should be up + and about to-morrow morning. + </p> + <p> + Mysie read on till the short, winter day showed the first symptoms of + closing in. Then Lady Merrifield came up. ‘You here, little nurse?’ she + said. ‘Run out now and meet the others. I’ll stay with Dolly.’ Mysie knew + by the kiss that her mother was pleased with her; but Dolores dreaded the + talk with her aunt, and made herself sleepy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. — THE INCONSTANCY OF CONSTANCE. + </h2> + <p> + The two gentlemen who had gone to Darminster brought home tidings that the + police who had been put on the track of Flinders had telegraphed that it + was thought that a person answering to his description had embarked at + Liverpool in an American-bound steamer. + </p> + <p> + This idea, though very uncertain, was a relief, at least to all except the + boys, who thought it a great shame that such a rascal should escape, and + wanted to know whether the Americans could not be made to give him up. + They did not at all understand their elders being glad, for the sake of + Maurice Mohun and his dead wife, that the man should not be publicly + convicted, and above all that Dolores should not have to bear testimony + against him in court, and describe her own very doubtful proceedings. + Besides, there would have been other things to try him for, since he had + cheated the publishing house which employed him of all he had been able to + get into his hands. There was reason to believe that he had heavy debts, + especially gambling ones, and that he had become desperate since he no + longer had his step-sister to fall back upon. + </p> + <p> + Looking into his room, among other papers, a half-burnt manuscript was + found upon his grate among some exhausted cinders, as if he had been + trying to use the unfortunate ‘Waif of the Moorland’ to eke out his last + fire. Moreover, the proprietor of the Politician told Colonel Mohun of + having remonstrated with him on the exceeding weakness and poorness of the + ‘Constantia’ poetry, ‘which,’ as that indignant personage added, ‘was + evidently done merely as a lure to the unfortunate young lady.’ + </p> + <p> + The fifteen pounds had been accepted in an honourable and ladylike manner + by the elder sister—but without any overpowering expression of + gratitude. No doubt it was a bitter pill to her, forced down by necessity, + and without guessing that it cost the donors anything. + </p> + <p> + Dolores’s mind was set at rest as to Flinders’s evasion before night, and + on the Sunday morning even Nurse Halfpenny could find out nothing the + matter with her, so that she was obliged to make her appearance as usual. + Uncle Reginald did not kiss her, he only gave a cold nod, and said ‘Good + morning.’ Otherwise all went on as usual, and it was pleasant to find that + Fly was as entirely used as they were to learning Collect and hymn, and + copying out texts illustrating Catechism, and that she was expected to + have them ready to repeat them to her mother some time in the afternoon. + There was something, too, that Mysie could not have described, but which + she liked, in the manner in which, on this morning, Dolores accepted small + acts of good nature, such as finding a book for her, getting a new pen and + helping her to the whereabouts of a Scriptural reference. It seemed for + the first time as if she liked to receive a kindness, and her ‘thank you’ + really had a sound of thanks, instead of being much more like ‘I wish you + would not.’ Mysie felt really encouraged to be kind, and when, on setting + forth to church, everybody was crowding round trying to walk with Fly, and + Dolores was going along lonely and deserted, Mysie resigned her chance of + one side of the favourite Phyllis, and dropped back to give her company to + the solitary one. To her surprise and gratification, Dolores took hold of + her hand, and listened quite willingly to her chatter about the schemes + for the fortnight that Fly was to be left with them. Presently Constance + was seen going markedly by the other gate of the churchyard, quite out of + her usual way, and not even looking towards them. + </p> + <p> + It was the last day of the old year, and, in the midst of the Christmas + joy, there were allusions to it in the services and hymns. Something in + the tune of ‘Days and moments quickly flying,’ touched some chord in + Dolores’s spirit, and set her off crying. She would have done anything to + stop it, but there was no helping it, great round splashes came down, and + the more she was afraid of being noticed, the worse the choking grew. At + last, the very worst person—she thought—to take notice. Uncle + Reginald, did so, and, under cover of a general rising, said sternly, + ‘Stop that, or go out.’ + </p> + <p> + Stop that! Much did the colonel know about a girl’s tears, or how she + would have given anything to check them. But here was Aunt Lily edging + down to her, taking her by the hand, leading her out, she did not know + how, stopping all who would have come after them with help—then + pausing a little in the open, frosty air. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Aunt Lily! I am very sorry!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Never mind that, my dear. Do you feel poorly?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh no; I’m quite well—only—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Only overcome—I don’t wonder—my dear—can you walk + quietly home with me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, please.’ + </p> + <p> + Nothing was said till they had passed the ‘idle corner,’ where men and + half-grown lads smoked their pipes in anything but Sunday trim; and stared + at the lady making her exit, till they were through the short street with + shop windows closed, and a strong atmosphere of cooking, and had come into + the quiet lane leading to the paddock. Then Lady Merrifield laid her hand + on the girl’s shoulder very gently, and said, ‘It was too much for you, my + dear, you are not quite strong yet.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes; I’m well. Only I am so very—very miserable,’ and the gust + of sobs and tears rushed on her again. + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear child, I should like to be able to help you!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You can’t! I’ve done it! And—and they’ll all be against me always—Uncle + Regie and all!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Uncle Regie was very much hurt, but I’m sure he will forgive you when he + sees how sorry you are. You know we all hope this is going to be a fresh + start. I am sure you were deceived.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Dolores. ‘I never could have thought he—Uncle Alfred—was + such a dreadful man.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I expect that since he lost your mother’s influence and help he may have + sunk lower than when you had seen him before. Did your father give you any + directions about him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No. Father hated to hear of him’ and never spoke about him if he could + help it; and we thought it was all Mohun high notions because he wasn’t + quite a gentleman.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I see. Indeed, my dear, though you have done very wrong, I have already + felt that there was great excuse for you in trying to keep up intercourse + with a person who belonged to your mother. I wish you had told me, but I + suppose you were afraid.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes’ said Dolores. ‘And I thought you were sure to be cross and harsh,’ + she muttered. And then suddenly looking up, ‘Oh, Aunt Lily! everybody is + angry but you—you and Mysie! Please go on being kind! I believe + you’ve been good to me always.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, I’ve tried,’ said Lady Merrifield, with fears in her brown eyes + and a choke in her voice caressing the hand that had been put into hers. + ‘I have wished very much to make you happy with us; but the ways of a + large family must be a trial to a new-comer.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores raised her face for a kiss, and said, ‘I see it now. But I did not + like everything always, and I thought aunts were sure to be unkind.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That was very hard. And why?’ + </p> + <p> + She was heard to mutter something about aunts in books always being cross. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! my dear! I suppose there are some unkind aunts, but I am sure there + are a great many more who wish with all their hearts to make happy homes + for their nieces. I hope now we may do so. I have more hope than ever I + had, and so I shall write to your father.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And please—please,’ cried Dolores, ‘don’t let Uncle Regie write him + a very dreadful letter! I know he will.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I think you can prevent that best yourself, by telling Uncle Regie how + sorry you are. He was specially grieved because he thinks you told him two + direct falsehoods.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! I didn’t think they were that,’ said Dolores, ‘for it was true that + father did not leave anything with me for Uncle Alfred. And I did not know + whether it was me whom he saw at Darminster. I did tell you one once, Aunt + Lily, when you asked if I gave Constance a note. At least, she gave it to + me, and not I to her. Indeed, I don’t tell falsehoods, Aunt Lily—I + mean I never did at home, but Constance said everybody said those sort of + things at school, and that one was driven to it when one was—-’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Was what, my dear?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Tyrannized over,’ Dolores got out. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! Dolly, I am afraid Constance was no real friend. It was a great + mistake to think her like Miss Hacket.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And now she has sent back all my notes, and won’t look at me or speak to + me,’ and Dolores’s tears began afresh. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is very ungenerous of her, but very likely she will be very sorry to + have done so when her first anger is over, and she understands that you + were quite as much deceived as she was.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But I shall never care for her again. It is not like Mysie, who never + stopped being kind all the time—nor Gillian either. I shall cut her + next time!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You should remember that she has something to forgive. I don’t want you + to be intimate with her but I think it would be better if, instead of + quarrelling openly, you wrote a note to say that you were deceived and + that you are very sorry for what you brought on her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I should not have gone on with it but for her and Her stupid poems!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Can you bear to tell me how it all was, my dear? I do not half understand + it.’ + </p> + <p> + And on the way home, and in Lady Merrifield’s own room Dolores found it a + relief to pour forth an explanation of the whole affair, beginning with + that meeting with Mr. Flinders at Exeter, of which no one had heard, and + going on to her indignation at the inspection of her letters; and how + Constance had undertaken to conduct her correspondence, ‘and that made it + seem as if she must write to some one,’—so she wrote to Uncle + Alfred. And then Constance, becoming excited at the prospect of a literary + connection, all the rest followed. It was a great relief to have told it + all, and Lady Merrifield was glad to see that the sense of deceit was what + weighed most heavily upon her niece, and seemed to have depressed her all + along. Indeed, the aunt came to the conclusion that though Dolores alone + might still have been sullen, morose and disagreeable, perhaps very + reserved, she never would have kept up the systematic deceit but for + Constance. The errors, regarded as sin, weighed on Lady Merrifield’s mind, + but she judged it wiser not to press that thought on an unprepared spirit, + trusting that just as Dolores had wakened to the sense of the human love + that surrounded her, hitherto disbelieved and disregarded, so she might + yet awake to the feeling of the Divine love and her offence against it. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon was tolerably free, for the gentlemen, including the elder + boys, walked to evensong at a neighbouring church noted for its musical + services, and Lady Merrifield, as she said, ‘lashed herself up’ to go with + Gillian, carry back the remnant of the unhappy ‘Waif,’ and ‘have it out’ + with Constance, who would, she feared, never otherwise understand the + measure of her own delinquency, and from whom, perhaps, evidence might be + extracted which would palliate the poor child’s offence in the eyes of + Colonel Mohun. Both the Hacket sisters looked terribly frightened when she + appeared, and the elder one made an excuse for getting her outside the + door to beseech her to be careful, dear Constance was so nervous and so + dreadfully upset by all she had undergone. Lady Merrifield was not the + least nervous of the two, and she felt additionally displeased with + Constance for not having said one word of commiseration when her sister + had inquired for Dolores. On returning to the drawing-room, Lady + Merrifield found the young lady standing by the window, playing with the + blind, and looking as if she wanted to make her escape. + </p> + <p> + ‘I do not know whether you will be sorry or glad to see this,’ said Lady + Merrifield, producing a half-burnt roll of paper. ‘It was found in Mr. + Flinders’s grate, and my brother thought you would be glad that it should + not get into strange hands.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, it was cruel! it was base! What a wicked man he is!’ cried Constance, + with hot tears, as she beheld the mutilated condition of her poor ‘Waif.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, it was a most unfortunate thing that you should have run into + intercourse with such an utterly untrustworthy person.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I was grossly deceived, Lady Merrifield!’ said Constance, clasping her + hands somewhat theatrically. + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall never believe in any one again!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not without better grounds, I hope,’ was the answer. ‘Your poor little + friend is terribly broken down by all this.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t call her my friend. Lady Merrifield. She has used me shamefully! + What business had she to tell me he was her uncle when he was no such + thing?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She had been always used to call him so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t tell me, Lady Merrifield,’ said Constance, who, after her first + fright, was working herself into a passion. ‘You don’t know what a little + viper you have been warming, nor what things she has been continually + saying of you. She told me—’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield held up her hand with authority. + </p> + <p> + ‘Stay, Constance. Do you think it is generous in you to tell me this?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sure you ought to know.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then why did you encourage her?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I pitied her—I believed her—I never thought she would have + led me into this!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How did she lead you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Always talking about her precious, persecuted uncle. I believe she was in + league with him all the time!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is nonsense,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘as you must see if you reflect + a little. Dolores was too young to have been told this man’s real + character; she only knew that her mother, who had spent her childhood with + him, treated him as a brother, and did all she could for him. Dolores did + very wrongly and foolishly in keeping up a connection with him unknown to + me; but I cannot help feeling there was great excuse for her, and she was + quite as much deceived as you were.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, of course, you stand by your own niece, Lady Merrifield. If you knew + what horrid things she said about your pride and unkindness, as she called + it, you would not think she deserved it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nay, that is exactly what does most excuse her in my eyes. Her fancying + such things of me was what did prevent her from confiding in me.’ + </p> + <p> + Constance had believed herself romantic, but the Christian chivalry of + Lady Merrifield’s nature was something quite beyond her. She muttered + something about Dolores not deserving, which made her visitor really + angry, and say, ‘We had better not talk of deserts. Dolores is a mere + child—a mother-less child, who had been a good deal left to herself + for many months. I let her come to you because she seemed shy and unhappy + with us, and I did not like to deny her the one pleasure she seemed to + care for. I knew what an excellent person and thorough lady your sister + is, and I thought I could perfectly trust her with you. I little thought + you would have encouraged her in concealment, and—I must say—deceit, + and thus made me fail in the trust her father reposed in me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I would never have done it,’ Constance sobbed, ‘but for what she said + about you. Lady Merrifield!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, and even if I am such a hard, severe person, does that make it + honourable or right to help the child I trusted to you to carry on this + underhand correspondence?’ + </p> + <p> + Constance hung her head. Her sister had said the same to her, but she + still felt herself the most injured party, and thought it very hard that + she should be so severely blamed for what the girls at her school treated + so lightly. She said, ‘I am very sorry. Lady Merrifield,’ but it was not + exactly the tone of repentance, and it ended with: ‘If it had not been for + her, I should never have done it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose not, for there would have been no temptation. I was in hopes + that you would have shown some kindlier and more generous feeling towards + the younger girl, who could not have gone so far wrong without your + assistance, and who feels your treatment of her very bitterly. But to find + you incapable of understanding what you have done, makes me all the more + glad that the friendship—if friendship it can be called—is + broken off between you. Good-bye. I think when you are older and wiser, + you will be very sorry to recollect the doings of the last few months.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield walked away, and found on her return that Dolores had + succeeded in writing to her father, and was so utterly tired out by the + feelings it had cost her that she was only fit to lie on the sofa and + sleep. + </p> + <p> + Gillian was, of course, not seen till she came home from evening service. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, mamma,’ she said, ‘what did you do to Constance?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I heard you shut the front door. And presently after there came + such a noise through the wall that all the girls pricked up their ears, + and Miss Hacket jumped up in a fright. If it had been Val, one would have + called it a naughty child roaring.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What! did I send her into hysterics?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose, as she is grown up, it must have the fine name, but it wasn’t + a bit like poor Dolly’s choking. I am sure she did it to make her sister + come! Well, of course, Miss Hacket went away, and I did the best I could, + but what could one do with all these screeches and bellowings breaking + out?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For shame. Gill!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I can’t help it, mamma. If you had only seen their faces when the uproar + came in a fresh gust! How they whispered, and some looked awestruck. I + thought I had better get rid of them, and come home myself; but Miss + Hacket met me, and implored me to stay, and I was weak-minded enough to do + so. I wish I hadn’t, for it was only to be provoked past bearing. That + horrid girl has poisoned even Miss Hacket’s mind, and she thinks you have + been hard on her darling. You did not know how nervous and timid dear + Connie is!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, Gill, I confess she made me very angry, and I told her what I + thought of her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And that she didn’t choose to hear!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you see her again?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I am thankful to say, I did not. But Miss Hacket would go on all + tea-time, explaining and explaining for me to tell you how dear Connie is + so affectionate and so easily led, and how Dolores came over her with + persuasions, and deceived her. I declare I never liked Dolly so well + before. At any rate, she doesn’t make professions, and not a bit more fuss + than she can help. And there was Miss Hacket getting brandy cherries and + strong coffee, and I don’t know what all, because dear Connie was so + overcome, and dear Lady Merrifield was quite under a mistake, and so + deceived by Dolores. I told Miss Hacket you were never under a mistake nor + deceived.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You didn’t, Gillian!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, I did, and the stupid woman only wanted to kiss me (but I wouldn’t + let her) and said I was very right to stand up for my dear mamma. As if + that had anything to do with it! What are you laughing at, mamma? Why, + Uncle Regie is laughing, and Cousin Rotherwood! What is it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘At the two partisans who never stand up for their own families,’ said + Uncle Regie. + </p> + <p> + ‘But it’s true!’ cried Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘What! that I am never mistaken nor deceived?’ said Lady Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘Except when you took Miss Constance for a sensible woman, eh?’ said her + brother. + </p> + <p> + ‘That I never did! But I did take her for a moderately honourable one.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, that was a mistake,’ owned Gillian. ‘And Miss Hacket is as bad! + There’s no gratitude—-’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hush!’ broke in her mother; and Gillian stopped abashed, while Lady + Merrifield continued, ‘I won’t have Miss Hacket abused. She is only + blinded by sisterly affection.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t think I can go there again,’ said Gillian, ‘after what she said + about you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nonsense!’ said her mother. ‘Don’t be as bad as Constance in trying to + make me angry by telling me all poor Dolly’s grumblings.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Follow your mother’s example, Gillian,’ said Lord Rotherwood, ‘and, if + possible, never hear, certainly never attend to, what any one says of you + behind your back.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Is said to have said of you, you should add, Rotherwood,’ put in the + colonel. ‘It is a decree worse than eavesdropping.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Regie!’ exclaimed his sister. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, not perhaps for your own honour and conscience, but the keyhole is + a more trustworthy medium than the reporter.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s a strong way of stating it, but, at any rate, the keyhole has no + temper nor imagination, or prejudice of its own,’ said Lady Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, and as far as it goes, it enables you to judge of the frame in which + the words, even if correctly reported, were spoken,’ added Colonel Mohun. + </p> + <p> + ‘The moral of which is,’ said Lord Rotherwood, drolly, ‘that Gillian is + not to take notice of anyone’s observations upon her unless she has heard + them through the keyhole.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And so one would never hear them at all.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Q. E. D.,’ said Lord Rotherwood. ‘And now, Lily, do you. ever sing the + two evening-hymns. Ken and Keble, now, as the family used to do on Sundays + at the Old Court, long ere the days of ‘Hymns Ancient and Modern’? + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t we?’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘Only all our best voices will be + singing it at Rawul Pindee!’ + </p> + <p> + And, as she struck a note on the piano, all the younger people still up, + Mysie, Phyllis, Wilfred and Valetta, gathered round from the outer room to + join in their evening Sunday delight. Fly put her hand into her father’s + and whispered, ‘You told me about it, daddy.’ He began to sing, but his + voice thickened as he missed the tones once associated with it. And Lady + Merrifield, too, nearly broke down as with all her heart she sang, + hopefully, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Now Lord, the gracious work begin.’ +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. — THE STONE MELTING. + </h2> + <p> + It was with a strange feeling that Dolores woke on the New Year’s morning, + that something was very sad and strange, and yet that there was a sense of + relief. For one thing, that terrible confession to her father was written, + and was no longer a weight hanging over her. And though his answer was + still to come, that was months away. There was Uncle Regie greatly + displeased with her; there was Constance treating her as a traitor; there + was the mischief done, and yet something hard and heavy was gone? + Something sweet and precious had come in on her! Surely it was, that now + she knew and felt that she could trust in Aunt Lilias—yes, and in + Mysie. She got up, quite looking forward to meeting those gentle, brown + eyes of her aunt’s, that she seemed never before to have looked into, and + to feeling the sweet, motherly kiss which had so mud, more meaning in it + now, as almost to make up for Uncle Reginald’s estrangement. + </p> + <p> + She even anticipated gladly those ten minutes alone with her aunt, which + she used to dislike so much, hoping that the holiday-time would not hinder + them. Really wishing to please her aunt, she had learnt her portion + perfectly, and Lady Merrifield showed that she appreciated the effort, + though still it was more a lesson than a reality. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear!’ she said, ‘I am afraid this is another blow for you—it + came this morning.’ + </p> + <p> + It was the account from Professor Muhlwasser’s German publisher, amounting + to a few shillings more than six pounds. And an announcement that the + books were on the way. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh,’ cried Dolores, ‘I thought he was dead! He told me so! Uncle Alfred, + I mean! And it was only to get the money! How could he be so wicked?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am afraid that was all he cared for.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And what shall I do. Aunt Lily? Will you pay it, please, and take all my + allowance till it is made up?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I think it will be more comfortable for you if I do something of that + sort, though I don’t think you should go entirely without money. You have + a pound a quarter. I was going to give you yours at once.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, take it—pray—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Suppose I give you five shillings, instead of twenty. I do not think it + well to leave you with nothing for a year and a half, and this is nearly + what Mysie has.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A shilling a month—very well. I wish I could pay it all at once!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No doubt you do, my dear, but this will keep you in mind for a long time + what a dangerous thing you did in giving away money you had no right to + dispose of.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Dolores. ‘Mother earned money for him. I know she never took + father’s without asking him; but I couldn’t earn, and couldn’t ask.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield kissed her, for very joy, to hear no sullenness in her + tone; and then all went to church together on the New Year’s day that was + to be the beginning of better things. Lord Rotherwood had just time to go + before meeting the train which was to take him to High Court, leaving his + Fly too much used to his absences to be distressed about them, and, in + fact, somewhat crazy about a notion which Gillian had started that + morning, of getting up a little play to surprise him when he came back for + Twelfth Day, as he promised to do. + </p> + <p> + Mamma declared that if it was in French, and the words were learnt every + morning before half-past eleven, it should supersede all other lessons; + but such was the hatred of the whole boy faction to French, that they + declared they had rather do rational sensible lessons twice over than + learn such rot, and this carried the day. The drama proposed was that one + in an old number of ‘Aunt Judy,’ where the village mayor is persuaded by + the drummer to fine the girls for wearing lace caps. The French original + existed in the house, and Fly started the idea that the male performers + should speak English and the female French; but this was laughed down. + </p> + <p> + In the midst Uncle Reginald came to the door and called, ‘Lilias, can you + speak to me a minute?’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield went out into the hall to him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Here’s a policeman come over, Lily. They have got the fellow!’ + ‘Flinders?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes; arrested him on board a steamer at Bristol.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, I wish they had let it alone!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So do I. They are bringing him back. The Darminster City bench sits + to-day, and they want that unlucky child over there to make her deposition + for his committal.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Can’t they commit him without her?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not for the forgery. The bank people are bent on prosecuting for that, + and we can’t stop them. I suppose she can be depended on?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Reginald, don’t! I told you the deceit was an unnatural growth from + Constance’s pseudo sentiment.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, get her ready to come with me,’ said the colonel, with a gesture of + doubt; ‘we must catch the 12.50. The superintendent brought a fly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You will frighten her out of her senses. I can’t let her go alone with + you in this mood.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘As you please, if you choose to knock yourself up. I’ll tell the + superintendent, and walk on to the station. You’ve not a moment to lose, + so don’t let her stand dawdling and crying.’ + </p> + <p> + It was a hard task for Lady Merrifield. She called Dolores, whom Mysie was + inviting to be one of the village maidens, and bade her put on her things + quickly. She ordered cold meat and wine into the dining-room, called + Gillian into her room, and explained while dressing, and bade her keep the + others away. Then, meeting Dolores on the stairs took her into the + dining-room and made her swallow some cold beef, and drink some sherry, + before telling her that the magistrates at Darminster wanted to ask her + some questions. Dolores looked pale and frightened, and exclaimed, + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, but he has got away!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, I am grieved to say that he has not.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores understood, and submitted more quietly and resignedly than her + aunt had feared. She was a barrister’s daughter, and once or twice her + father had taken her and her mother part of the way on circuit with him, + and she had been in court, so that she had known from the first that if + her uncle were arrested there was no choice but that she must speak out. + So she only trembled very much and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Aunt Lily, are you going with me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed I am, my poor child. Uncle Regie is gone on.’ + </p> + <p> + No more was spoken then, but Dolores put her cold hand into her aunt’s + muff. + </p> + <p> + Gillian kept all the flock prisoned in the schoolroom. Wilfred, Val, and + Fergus rushed to the window, and were greatly disappointed not to see a + policeman on the box, ‘taking Dolores to be tried’—as Fergus + declared, and Wilfred insisted, just because Gillian and Mysie + contradicted it with all their might. He continued to repeat it with + variations and exaggerations, until Jasper heard him, and declared that he + should have a thorough good licking if he said so again, administering a + cuff by way of earnest. Wilfred howled, and was ordered not to be such an + ape, and Fly looked on in wonder at the domestic discipline. + </p> + <p> + The superintendent had, in fact, walked on with Uncle Reginald, and + Dolores saw nothing of him, but was put into an empty first-class + carriage, into which her aunt followed her, but her uncle, observing, ‘You + know how to manage her, Lily,’ betook himself to a smoking-carriage, and + left them to themselves. + </p> + <p> + Dolores was never a very talking girl, and the habit of silence had grown + upon her. She leant against her aunt and she put her arm round her, and + did not attempt to say anything till she asked, + </p> + <p> + ‘Will he be there?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know, I am afraid he will. It is very sad for you, my poor Dolly; + but we must recollect that, after all, it may be much better for him to be + stopped now than to go on and get worse and worse in some strange + country.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores did not ask what she was to do, she knew enough already about + trials to understand that she was only to answer questions, and she + presently said, + </p> + <p> + ‘This can’t be his trial. There are no assizes now.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, this is only for the committal. It will very soon be over, if you + will only answer quietly and steadily. If you do so, I think Uncle Regie + will be pleased, and tell your father! I am sure I shall!’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores pressed up closer and laid her cheek against the soft sealskin. In + the midst of her trouble there was a strange wonder in her. Could this be + really the aunt whom she had thought so cruel, unjust, and tyrannical, and + from whom she had so carefully hidden her feelings? Nobody got into the + carriage, and just before reaching Darminster, Lady Merrifield made a + great effort over her own shyness and said, + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, Dolly, we will pray a little prayer that you may be a faithful + witness, and that God may turn it, all to good for your poor uncle.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores was very much surprised, and did not know whether she liked it or + not, but she saw her aunt’s closed eyes and uplifted hands, and she tried + to follow the example. + </p> + <p> + The train stopped, and her uncle came to the door, looking inquiringly at + her. + </p> + <p> + ‘She will be good and brave,’ said her aunt; and quickly passing across + the platform, Dolores found herself beside her aunt, with her uncle + opposite in another fly. + </p> + <p> + Things had been arranged for them considerately, and after they came to + the Guildhall, where the city magistrates were sitting, Colonel Mohun went + at once into court; the others were taken to a little room, and waited + there a few minutes before Colonel Mohun came to call for his niece. It + was a long room, with a rail at one end, and Dolores knew, with a strange + thrill which made her shudder, that Mr. Flinders was there, but she could + not bear to look at him, and only squeezed hard at the hand of her aunt, + who asked, in a somewhat shaky voice, if she might come with her niece. + </p> + <p> + ‘Certainly, certainly. Lady Merrifield,’ said one of the magistrates, and + chairs were set both for her and Colonel Mohun. + </p> + <p> + ‘You are Miss Mohun, I think—may I ask your Christian name in full?’ + And then she had to spell it, and likewise tell her exact age, after which + she was put on oath—as she knew enough of trials to expect. + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you residing with Lady Merrifield?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But your father is living?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, but he is in the Fiji Islands.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Will you favour us with his exact name?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Maurice Devereux Mohun.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘When did he leave England?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The fifth of last September.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did he leave any money with you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘In what form?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A cheque on W——‘s Bank. + </p> + <p> + ‘To bearer or order?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To order.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What was the date?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I think it was the 31st of August, but I am not sure.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For how much?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For seven pounds.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘When did you part with it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘On the Friday before Christmas Day.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you do anything to it first?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wrote my name on the back.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What did you do with it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I sent it to—’ her voice became a little hoarse, but she brought + out the words—‘to Mr. Flinders.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Is this the same?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes—only some one has put ‘ty’ to the ‘seven’ in writing, and 0 to + the figure 7.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Can you swear to the rest as your father’s writing and your own?’ + </p> + <p> + The evidence of the banker’s clerk as to the cashing of the cheque had + been already taken, and the magistrate said, ‘Thank you. Miss Mohun, I + think the case is complete, and we need not trouble you any more.’ + </p> + <p> + But the prisoner’s voice made Dolores start and shudder again, as he said, + </p> + <p> + ‘I beg your pardon, sir, but you have not asked the young lady’—there + was a sort of sneer in his voice—‘how she sent this draft.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did not you send it direct by the post?’ demanded the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + ‘No; I gave it to—’ Again she paused, and the words ‘Gave it to—?’ + were authoritatively repeated, so that she had no choice. + </p> + <p> + ‘I gave it to Miss Constance Hacket to send.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You will observe, sir,’ said Flinders, in a somewhat insolent tone, ‘that + the evidence which the witness has been so ready to adduce is incomplete. + There is another link between her hands and mine.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You may reserve that point for your defence on your trial,’ rejoined the + magistrate. ‘There is quite sufficient evidence for your committal.’ + </p> + <p> + There was already a movement to let Dolores be taken away by her uncle and + aunt, so as to spare her from any reproach or impertinence that Flinders + might launch at her. She was like some one moving in a dream, glad that + her aunt should hold her hand as if she were a little child, saying, as + they came out into the street, ‘Very clearly and steadily done, Dolly! + Wasn’t it, Uncle Regie?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ he said, absently. ‘We must look out, or we shan’t catch the 4.50 + train.’ + </p> + <p> + He almost threw them into a cab, and made the driver go his quickest, so + that, after all, they had full ten minutes to spare. It made Dolores sick + at heart to go near the waiting and refreshment-rooms where she and + Constance had spent all that time with Flinders; but she could not bear to + say so before her uncle, and he was bent on getting some food for Lady + Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not soup, Regie; there might not be time to swallow it. A glass of milk + for us each, please; we can drink that at once, and anything solid that we + can take with us. I am sure your mouth must be dry, my dear.’ + </p> + <p> + Very dry it was, and Dolores gladly swallowed the milk, and found, when + seated in the train, that she was really hungry enough to eat her full + share of the sandwiches and buns which the colonel had brought in with + him; and then she sat resting against her aunt, closed her eyes, and half + dozed in the rattle of the train, not moving in the pause at the stations, + but quite conscious that Colonel Mohun said, ‘Not a spark of feeling for + anybody, not even for that man! As hard as a stone!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For shame, Regie!’ said her aunt. ‘How angry you would have been if she + had made a scene.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I should have liked her better.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, you wouldn’t, when you come to understand. There’s stuff in her, and + depth too.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Aye, she’s deep enough.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor child!’ said Lady Merrifield, tenderly. And then the train went on, + and the noise drowned the voices, so that Dolores only partly heard, ‘You + will see how she will rise,’ and the answer, ‘You may be right; I hope so. + But I can’t get over deliberate deceit.’ + </p> + <p> + He settled himself in his corner, and Lady Merrifield durst not move nor + raise her voice lest she should break what seemed such deep slumber, but + which really was half torpor, half a dull dismay, holding fast eyes, lips, + and limbs, and which really became sleep, so that Dolores did not hear the + next bit of conversation during the ensuing halt. + </p> + <p> + ‘I say, Lily, I did not like the fellow’s last question. He means to give + trouble about it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I was sorry the other name was brought in, but it must have come sooner + or later.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s true; but if she can’t swear to the figures on the draft, ten to + one that the fellow will get off.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You don’t doubt—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no; but there’s the chance for the defence, and he was sharp enough + to see it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There is nothing to be said or done about it, of course.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course not. There’s nothing for it but to let it alone.’ + </p> + <p> + They went on again, and when the train reached Silverton, Dolly was + dreaming that her father had come, and that he said Uncle Alfred should be + hanged unless she found the money for Professor Muhlwasser. She even + looked about for him, and said, ‘Where’s father?’ when she was wakened to + get out. + </p> + <p> + Gillian came up to her mother’s room to hear what had happened, and to + give an account of the day, which had gone off prosperously by Harry’s + help. He had kept excellent order at dinner, and ‘there’s something about + Fly which makes even Wilfred be mannerly before her.’ And then they had + gone out and had made Fly free of the Thorn Fortress. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, that must have been terribly damp and cold at this time of + year.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought of that, mamma, and so we didn’t sit down, and made it a + guerrilla war; only Fergus couldn’t understand the difference between + guerrillas and gorillas, and would thump upon himself and roar when they + were in ambush.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Rather awkward for the ambush!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, Wilfred said he was a traitor, and tied him to a tree, and then Fly + found him crying, and would have let him out; but she couldn’t get the + knots undone; and what do you think? She made Wilfred cut the string + himself with his own knife! I never knew such a girl for making every one + do as she pleases. Then, when it got dark, we came in, and had a sort of a + kind of a rehearsal, only that nobody knew any of the parts, or what each + was to be.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A sort of a kind, indeed, it must have been!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But we think the play will be lovely! You can’t think how nice Fly was. + You know we settled for her to be Annette, the dear, funny, naughty girl, + but as soon as she saw that Val wanted the part, she said she didn’t care, + and gave it up directly, and I don’t think we ought to let her, and Hal + thinks so too; and all the boys are very angry, and say Val will make a + horrid mess of it. Then Mysie wanted to give up the good girl to Fly, and + only be one of the chorus, but Fly says she had rather be one of the + chorus ones herself than that. So we settled that you should fix the + parts, and we would abide by your choice.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I hope there was no quarrelling.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘N—no; only a little falling upon Val by the boys, and Fly put a + stop to that. Oh, mamma, if it were only possible to turn Dolly into Fly! + I can’t help saying it, we seemed to get on so much better just because we + hadn’t poor Dolly to make a deadweight, and tempt the boys to be tiresome: + while Fly made everything go off well. I can’t describe it, she didn’t in + the least mean to keep order or interfere, but somehow squabbles seem to + die away before her, and nobody wants to be troublesome.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear little thing! It is a very sweet disposition. But, Gill, I do + believe that we shall see poor Dolly take a turn now!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well! having quarrelled with that Constance is in her favour!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Try and think kindly of her trouble. Gill, and then it will be easier to + be kind to her.’ + </p> + <p> + Gillian sighed. Falsehood and determined opposition to her mother were the + greatest possible crimes in her eyes; and at her age it was not easy to + separate the sin from the sinner. + </p> + <p> + New Year’s night was always held to be one of especial merriment, but Lady + Merrifield was so much tired out by her expedition that she hardly felt + equal to presiding over any sports, and proposed that instead the young + folk should dance. Gillian and Hal took turns to play for them, and Uncle + Reginald and Fly were in equal request as partners. It was Mysie who came + to draw Dolores out of her corner, and begged her to be her partner—‘If + you wouldn’t very much rather not,’ she said, in a pleading, wistful, + voice. + </p> + <p> + Dolores would ‘very much rather not;’ but she saw that Mysie would be left + out altogether if she did not consent, as Hal was playing and Uncle Regie + was dancing with Primrose. She thought of resolutions to turn over a new + leaf, and not to refuse everything so she said, ‘Yes, this once,’ and it + was wonderful how much freshened she felt by the gay motion, and perhaps + by Mysie’s merry, good-natured eyes and caressing hand. After that she had + another turn with Gillian and one with Hal, and even one with Fergus + because, as he politely informed her, no one else would have him for a + quadrille. But, just as this was in progress, and she could not help + laughing at his ridiculous mistakes and contempt of rules she met Uncle + Reginald’s eye fixed on her in wonder ‘He thinks I don’t care,’ thought + she to herself. All her pleasure was gone, and she moved so dejectedly + that her aunt, watching from the sofa, called her and told her she was + over-tired, and sent her to bed. + </p> + <p> + Dolores was tired, but not in the way which made it harder instead of + easier to sleep, or, rather, she slept just enough to relax her full + consciousness and hold over herself, and bring on her a misery of terror + and loneliness, and feeling of being forsaken by the whole world. And when + she woke fully enough to understand the reality, it was no better; she + felt, then, the position she had put herself into, and almost saw in the + dark, Flinders’s malicious vindictive glance Constance’s anger, Uncle + Regie’s cold, severe look and, worse than all, her father reading her + letter’ + </p> + <p> + She fell again into an agony of sobbing, not without a little hope that + Aunt Lily would be again brought to her side. At last the door was softly + pushed open in the dark, but it was not Aunt Lily, it was Mysie’s little + bare feet that patted up to the bed, her arms that embraced, her cheek + that was squeezed against the tearful one—‘Oh, Dolly, Dolly! please + don’t cry so sadly!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! it is so dreadful, Mysie!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you ill—like the other night?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No—but—Mysie—I can’t bear it!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t want to call mamma,’ said Mysie, thoughtfully, ‘for she is so + much tired, and Uncle Regie and Gill said she would be quite knocked up, + and got her to come up to bed when we went. Dolly, would it be better if I + got into your bed and cuddled you up?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes! oh yes! please do, there’s a dear good Mysie.’ + </p> + <p> + There was not much room, but that mattered the less, and the hugging of + the warm arms seemed to heal the terrible sense of being unloved and + forsaken, the presence to drive away the visions of angry faces that had + haunted her; but there was the longing for fellow-feeling on her, and she + said, ‘That’s nice! Oh, Mysie! you can’t think what it is like! Uncle + Regie said I didn’t care, and he could never forgive deliberate deceit—and + I was so fond of Uncle Regie!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! but he will, if you never tell a story again,’ said Mysie—and, + as she felt a gesture implying despair—‘Yes, they do; I told a story + once.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You, Mysie! I thought you never did?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, once, when we were crossing to Ireland and nurse wouldn’t let + Wilfred tie our handkerchiefs together and fish over the side, and he was + very angry, and threw her parasol into the sea when she wasn’t looking; + and I knew she would be so cross, that when she asked me if I knew what + was become of it, I said ‘No,’ and thought I didn’t, really. But then it + came over me, again and again, that I had told a story, and, oh! I was so + miserable whenever I thought of it—at church, and saying my prayers, + you know; and mamma was poorly, and couldn’t come to us at night for ever + so long, but at last I could bear it no longer, I heard her say, ‘Mysie is + always truthful,’ and then I did get it out, and told her. And, oh! she + and papa were so kind, and they did quite and entirely forgive me!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, you told of your own accord; and they were your own—not Uncle + Regie. Ah! Mysie, everybody hates me. I saw them all looking at me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no! Don’t say such things. Dolly. None of us do anything so + shocking.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, Jasper does, and Wilfred and Val!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No! no! no! they don’t hate; only they are tiresome sometimes; but if you + wouldn’t be cross they would be nice directly—at least Japs and Val. + And ‘tisn’t hating with Willie, only he thinks teasing is fun.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And you and Gillian. You can only just bear me. + </p> + <p> + ‘No! no! no!’ with a great hug, ‘that’s not true.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You like Fly ever so much better!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She is so dear, and so funny,’ said Mysie, the truthful, ‘but somehow, + Dolly dear, do you know, I think if you and I got to love one another like + real friends, it would be nicer still than even Fly—because you are + here like one of us, you know; and besides, it would be more, because you + are harder to get at. Will you be my own friend. Dolly?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Mysie, I must!’ and there was a fresh kissing and hugging. + </p> + <p> + ‘And there’s mamma,’ added Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, I know Aunt Lily does now; but, oh! if you had seen Uncle Alfred’s + face, and heard Uncle Regie,’ and Dolly began to sob again as they + returned on her. ‘I see them whenever I shut my eyes!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Darling,’ whispered Mysie, ‘when I feel bad at night, I always kneel up + in bed and say my prayers again!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you ever feel bad?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, when I’m frightened, or if I’ve been naughty, and haven’t told + mamma. Shall we do it, Dolly?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know what that has to do with it, but we’ll try.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma told me something to say out of.’ + </p> + <p> + The two little girls rose up, with clasped hands in their bed, and Mysie + whispered very low, but so that her companion heard, and said with her a + few childish words of confession, pleading and entreating for strength, + and then the Lord’s Prayer, and the sweet old verse:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘I lay my body down to sleep, + I give my soul to Christ to keep, + Wake I at morn, as wake I never, + I give my soul to Christ for ever.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘Ah! but I am afraid of that. I don’t like it,’ said Dolores, as they lay + down again. + </p> + <p> + ‘It won’t make one never wake,’ returned Mysie; ‘and I do like to give my + soul to Christ. It seems so to rest one, and make one not afraid.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know,’ said Dolores; ‘and why did you say the Lord’s Prayer? That + hasn’t anything to do with it!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Dolly, when He is our Father near, though our own dear fathers are + far away, and there’s deliver us from evil—all that hurts us, you + know-and forgive us. It’s all there.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I never thought that,’ said Dolores. ‘I think you have some different + prayers from mine. Old nurse taught me long ago. I wish you would always + say yours with me. You make them nicer.’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie answered with a hug, and a murmured ‘If I can,’ and offered to say + the 121st Psalm, her other step to comfort, and, as she said it, she + resolved in her mind whether she could grant Dolores’s request; for she + was not sure whether she should be allowed to leave her room before saying + her own, and she I knew enough of Dolores by this time to be aware that to + say she would ask mamma’s leave would put an end to all. ‘I know,’ was her + final decision; ‘I’ll say my own first, and then come to Dolly’s room.’ + </p> + <p> + But by that time Dolores was asleep, even if Mysie had not been too sleepy + to speak. + </p> + <p> + She meant to have rushed to the room she shared with Valetta before it was + time to get up, but Lots found the black head and the brown together on + Dolores’s pillow, wrapped in slumber; and though Mysie flew home as soon + as she was well awake, Mrs. Halfpenny descended on her while she was yet + in her bath, and inflicted a sharp scolding for the malpractice of getting + into her cousin’s bed. + </p> + <p> + ‘But Dolly was so miserable, nurse, and mamma was too tired to call.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then you should have called me, Miss Mysie, and I’d have sorted her well! + You kenned well ‘tis a thing not to be done and at your age; ye should + have minded your duties better.’ + </p> + <p> + And nurse even intercepted Mysie on her way to Dolores’s room, and + declared she would have no messing and gossiping in one another’s rooms. + Miss Mysie was getting spoilt among strangers. + </p> + <p> + Mysie went down with a strong sense of having been disobedient, as well as + of grief for Dolores’s disappointment. Happily mamma was late that + morning, and nobody was in her room but Primrose. Poor Mysie had soon, + with tears in her eyes, confessed her transgression. Her mother’s tears, + to her great surprise, were on her cheek together with a kiss. ‘Dear + child, I am not displeased. Indeed, I am not; I will tell nurse. It must + not be a habit, but this was an exception, and I am only thankful you + could comfort her. + </p> + <p> + ‘And, mamma, may I go now to her. She said I could help her to say her + prayers, and I think she only has little baby ones that her nurse taught + her and she doesn’t see into the Lord’s Prayer.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, my dear, if you can help her to pray you will do the thing most + sure to be a blessing to her of all.’ + </p> + <p> + And when Mysie was gone, Lady Merrifield knelt down afresh in + thankfulness. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. — MYSIE AND DOLORES. + </h2> + <p> + Things were going on more quietly at Silverton. That is to say, there were + no outward agitations, for the house was anything but quiet. Lady + Merrifield had no great love for children’s parties, where, as she said, + they sat up too late, to eat and drink what was not good for them, and to + get presents that they did not care about; and though at Dublin it had + been necessary on her husband’s account to give and take such civilities, + she had kept out of the exchange at Silverton. But, on the other hand, + there were festivals, and she promoted a full amount of special treats at + home among themselves, or with only an outsider or two, and she endured + any amount of noise, provided it was not quarrelsome, over-boisterous, or + at unfit times. + </p> + <p> + There was the school tea, and magic-lantern, when Mr. Pollock acted as + exhibitor, and Harry as spokesman, and worked them up gradually from grave + and beautiful scenes like the cedars of Lebanon, the Parthenon and + Colosseum, with full explanations, through dissolving views of cottage and + bridge by day and night, summer and winter, of life-boat rescue, and the + siege of Sevastopol, with shells flying, on to Jack and the Beanstalk and + the New Tale of a Tub, the sea-serpent, and the nose-grinding! Lady + Phyllis’s ecstacy was surpassing, more especially as she found her beloved + little maid-of-all-work, and was introduced to all that small person’s + younger brothers and sisters. + </p> + <p> + Here they met Miss Hacket, who was in charge of a class. She comported + herself just as usual, and Gillian’s dignity and displeasure gave way + before her homely cordiality. Constance had not come, as indeed nothing + but childhood, sympathy with responsibility for childhood, could make the + darkness, stuffiness, and noise of the exhibition tolerable. Even Lady + Merrifield trusted her flock to its two elders, and enjoyed a tete-a-tete + evening with her brother, who profited by it to advise her strongly to + send Dolores to their sister Jane before harm was done to her own + children. + </p> + <p> + ‘I would not see that little Mysie of yours spoilt for all the world,’ + said he. + </p> + <p> + ‘Nor I; but I don’t think it likely to happen.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you know that they are always after each other, chattering in their + bedrooms at night. I hear them through the floor.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Only one night—Mysie told me all about it—I believe Mysie + will do more for that poor child than any of us.’ + </p> + <p> + Uncle Regie shrugged his shoulders a little. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, I know I was wrong before, when I wouldn’t take Jane’s warning; but + that was not about one of my own, and, besides, poor Dolores is very much + altered.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll tell you what, Lily, when any one, I don’t care who, man, or woman, + or child, once is given up to that sort of humbug and deceit, carrying it + on a that girl, Dolores, had done, I would never trust again an inch + beyond what I could see. It eats into the very marrow of the bones—everything + is acting afterwards.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That would be saying no repentance was possible—that Jacob never + could become Israel.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I only say I have never seen it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then I hope you will, nay, that you do. I believe your displeasure is the + climax of all Dolly’s troubles.’ + </p> + <p> + But Colonel Reginald Mohun could not forgive the having been so entirely + deceived where he had so fully trusted; and there was no shaking his + opinion that Dolores was essentially deceitful and devoid of feeling and + that the few demonstrations of emotion that were brought before him were + only put on to excite the compassion of her weakly, good-natured aunt, so + he only answered, ‘You always were a soft one Lily.’ + </p> + <p> + To which she only answered, ‘We shall see knowing that in his present + state of mind he would only set down the hopeful tokens that she perceived + either to hypocrisy on the girl’s side, or weakness on hers. + </p> + <p> + Dolores had indeed gone with the others rather because she could not bear + remaining to see her uncle’s altered looks than because she expected much + pleasure. And she had the satisfaction of sitting by Mysie, and holding + her hand, which had become a very great comfort in her forlorn state—so + great that she forebore to hurt her cousin’s feelings by discoursing of + the dissolving views she had seen at a London party. Also she exacted a + promise that this station should always be hers. + </p> + <p> + Mysie, on her side, was in some of the difficulties of a popular + character, for Fly felt herself deserted, and attacked her on the first + opportunity. + </p> + <p> + ‘What does make you always go after Dolly instead of me, Mysie? Do you + like her so much better?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh no! but you have them all, and she has nobody.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, but she has been so horridly naughty, hasn’t she?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t think she meant it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘One never does. At least, I’m sure I don’t—and mamma always says it + is nonsense to say that.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m not sure whether it is always,’ said Mysie, thoughtfully, ‘for + sometimes one does worse than one knows. Once I made a mouse-trap of a + beautiful large sheet of bluey paper, and it turned out to be an order + come down to papa. Mamma and Alethea gummed it up as well as ever they + could again, but all the officers had to know what had happened to it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And were you punished?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I was not allowed to go into papa’s room without one of the elder ones + till after my next birthday, but that wasn’t so bad as papa’s being so + vexed, and everybody knowing it; and Major Denny would talk about mice and + mouse-traps every time he saw me till I quite hated my name.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And I’m sure you didn’t mean to cut up an important paper.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No; but I did do a little wrong, for we had no leave to take anything not + quite in the waste basket, and this had been blown off the table, and was + on the floor outside. They didn’t punish me so much I think because of + that. Papa said it was partly his own fault for not securing it when he + was called off. You see little wrongs that one knows turn out great wrongs + that one would never think of, and that is so very dreadful, and makes me + so very sorry for Dolores.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I didn’t think you would like a cross, naughty girl like that more than + your own Fly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no! Fly, don’t say that. I don’t really like her half so well, you + know, only if you would help me to be kind to her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sure my mother wouldn’t wish me to have anything to do with her. I + don’t think she would have let me come here if she had known what sort of + girl she is.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But your papa knew when he left you—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, papa! yes; but he can never see anything amiss in a Mohun; I heard + her say so. And he wants me to be friends with you; dear, darling friends + like him and your Uncle Claude, Mysie, so you must be, and not be always + after that Dolores.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I want to be friends with both. One can have two friends.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No! no! no! not two best friends. And you are my best friend, Mysie, ever + so much better than Alberta Fitzhugh, if only you’ll come always to me + this little time when I’m here, and sit by me instead of that Dolly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I do love you very much, Fly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And you’ll sit by me at the penny reading to-night?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I promised Dolly. But she may sit on the other side.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said Phyllis, with jealous perverseness. ‘I don’t care if that Dolly + is to be on the other side, you’ll talk to nobody but her! Now, Mysie, I + had been writing to ask daddy to let you come home with me, you yourself, + to the Butterfly’s Ball, but if you won’t sit by me, you may stay with + your dear Dolores.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Fly! When you know I promised, and there is the other side.’ + </p> + <p> + But Fly had been courted enough by all the cousinhood to have become + exacting and displeased at having any rival to the honour of her hand—so + she pouted and said, ‘I don’t care about it, if you have her. I shall sit + between Val and Jasper.’ + </p> + <p> + One must be thirteen, with a dash of the sentiment of a budding + friendship, to enter into all that ‘sitting by’ involves; and in Mysie’s + case, here was her compassionate promise standing not only between her and + the avowed preference of one so charming as Fly, but possibly depriving + her of the chances of the wonders of the Butterfly’s Ball. No wonder that + disconsolate tears came into her eyes as she uttered another pleading, + ‘Oh, Fly, how can you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You must choose,’ said the offended young lady; ‘you can’t have us both.’ + </p> + <p> + To which argument she stuck, being offended as well as scandalized at + being set aside for such a culprit as Dolores, whose misdemeanours and + discourtesy were equally shocking to her imagination. + </p> + <p> + Mysie could confide her troubles to no one, for she was aware that caring + about sitting together was treated by the elders as egregious folly; but a + promise was a promise with her, and she held staunchly to her purpose, + though between Dolores and Miss Vincent she lost all those delightful + asides which enhanced the charms of the amusing parts of the penny reading + and beguiled the duller ones—of which there were many, since it was + more concert than penny reading, people being rather shy of committing + themselves to reading—Hal, Mr. Pollock and the schoolmaster being + the only volunteers in that line. + </p> + <p> + Gillian had, sorely against the grain, to play a duet with Constance + Hacket. The two young ladies had met one another with freezing civility in + the classroom, and to those who understood matters, the stiffness of their + necks and shoulders, as they sat at the piano, spoke unutterable things. + But there had never been any real liking between Constance and the younger + Merrifields, and the mother did not trouble herself much about this, + knowing that the vexation of the elder sister, about whom she did care, + would pass off with friendly intercourse. + </p> + <p> + Fly’s displeasure did not last long, for Mysie bad more attractions for + her than any one else, and she was a good-humoured creature. There was a + joyous Twelfth-Night, with home-made cake and home-characters, prepared by + mamma and Gillian, and followed up by games, in which Dolores had a share, + promoted by her aunt, who was very anxious to keep her from feeling set + apart from every one; but this was difficult to manage, as she was so + generally disliked, that even Gillian was only good-natured to her in + accordance with her mother’s desire that she should not be treated as ‘out + of the pale of humanity.’ Mysie alone sought her out and brought her + forward with any real earnestness, and good little Mysie had a somewhat + difficult part to play between kindness to her and Fly’s occasional little + jealous tiffs and decided disapproval. Mysie never thought, however, about + the situation or its difficulties, she simply followed the moment’s call + of kindness to Dolores, and, when it was possible, followed her own + inclinations, and enjoyed Fly’s lively society. + </p> + <p> + And Dolores was certainly softening and improving. A word to Mrs. + Halfpenny had secured the two girls being permitted to say their prayers + together in Dolores’s room unmolested; and what was a reality to a + contemporary became less and less to Dolores a mere lesson imposed by the + authority of an elder. That link between religious instruction and daily + life, which is all important, yet so difficult to find, was being + gradually put into Dolores’s hands by her little cousin-friend. Lady + Merrifield hoped and guessed it might be thus, from the questions that + Mysie asked her at times, and from the quickened attention Dolores showed + to her religious lessons, and her less dull and indifferent air at church. + </p> + <p> + It could not be said that she was different with the others. She was + depressed, and wanted spirits for enjoyment, nor would active romping + diversions ever be pleasant to her. She had not the nature for them, and + was not young enough to learn to like them. It could not but seem foolish + to her to race about as a Croat or a savage, and she only beheld with + wonder Gillian’s genuine delight in games not merely entered into for the + sake of the little ones. But there was a strong devotion growing up in her + to her aunt and to Mysie, and what they asked of her she did—even + when on a wet day her aunt condemned her to learn battledore and + shuttle-cock of Gillian, who was equally to be pitied for the awkwardness + of her pupil and the banter of her brothers, while Dolly picked up her + shuttlecock and tossed it off with grim determination, as if doing penance + for this dismal half hour. She managed better in the games where ready + sharpness of intellect or memory was wanted, and she liked these, and + would have liked them still better if Uncle Reginald had not always looked + astonished if she laughed. + </p> + <p> + She did her part, too, in the little play, being one of the chorus of the + maidens who ‘make a vow to make a row.’ Lady Merrifield had, according to + the general request, saved disputes by casting the parts, Gillian being + the sage old woman who brought the damsels to reason. Fly, the prime mover + of the tumult, and Mysie, her confidante, while Val and Dolly made up the + mob. A little manipulation of skirts, tennis-aprons, ribbons, and caps + made very nice peasant costumes. Hal was the self-important Bailli, and + Jasper the drummer, the part of gens-d’armes being all that Wilfred and + Fergus could be trusted with. + </p> + <p> + Lord Rotherwood came back, and his little daughter’s ecstacy was goodly to + see, as she danced about her daddy, almost bursting with the secret of + what he was to see after dinner, and showing herself so brilliantly well + and happy that he congratulated himself upon her mother’s satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + While the elders were at dinner, Gillian, with Miss Vincent’s help, + finished off the arrangements. There were no outsiders, except the Vicar + and Mr. Pollock who had been asked to dinner, for Lady Merrifield said she + never liked to make her children an exhibition. + </p> + <p> + ‘You are an old-fashioned Lily,’ said her cousin, ‘and happily not + concerned with popularity. It is a fine thing to be able to consult one’s + children’s absolute best.’ + </p> + <p> + The performance went off beautifully—at least so thought both actors + and spectators. The dignity of the Bailli and the meddling of the drummer + were alike delightful; Fly was charmingly arch and mutinous; Mysie very + straightforward; and the least successful personation was that of Gillian, + who had a fit of stage-fright, forgot sentences, and whirred her + spinning-wheel nervously, all the worse for being scolded by her brothers + behind the scenes, and assured that she was making a mull of the whole + affair. And she had been so spirited at the rehearsals, but she was at a + self-conscious age, and could not forget the four spectators. Very little + was required of Dolores, but that little she did simply and well, and Lord + Rotherwood, after watching her all the evening, observed to Lady + Merrifield, ‘I should say your difficulties were diminishing, are they + not? The thunder-cloud seems to be a little lightened.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am so glad you think so, Rotherwood. I feel sure that all this distress + has drawn her nearer to us, only Regie won’t believe it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Regie is prejudiced.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Is he? I thought him specially fond of Maurice’s child, and that this was + revulsion of feeling; but what I am afraid of is, that he will never + believe in her or like her again, whatever she may be, and she is really + fond of him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, Reginald is not over disposed to believe in any woman’s truth—outside + his own family and sisters. Poor fellow! I can’t say he was well used.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What? I suppose he has bad his romance like other people—his little + episode, as my husband calls it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes; and I am afraid we were accountable for it. You remember we were at + Harthope Castle for the first two years after I was married, while + Rotherwood was brought up to the requirements of the Victorian age. + </p> + <p> + The —th was quartered at Harfield, within easy distance, and a + splendid looking fellow like Regie was invaluable to Victoria, whenever + she wanted anything to go off well. Well, in those days I had a ward, my + mother’s great niece, Maude Conway. A pretty winsome creature it was, and + an heiress in a moderate sort of way, and poor old Redge, after all his + little affairs, and he had had his share of them, was evidently in for it + at last. Victoria thought, as well as myself, it was the best thing for + them both. He was the sound-hearted, good fellow to keep her matters + straight, and she had enough for comfort without overweighting the + balance. So they were engaged but unluckily they had to wait till she was + of age, about eight months off, and they were both ridiculously shy, and + would not have the thing known, though Victoria said it was unwise. I + don’t think even Jane suspected it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No; I don’t think she could have done so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, there was the season, and Victoria was not in condition for going + out, and Maude was all for staying quietly with her; but old Lady Conway + came about—a regular schemer—a woman I never could abide. She + had married off her own daughters, and wanted her niece to practise on, + that was the fact. Victoria says she always knew that she, Maude I mean, + was very impressionable and impulsive, and so she wanted to have her out + of harm’s way; but one could not prevent her aunt from getting hold of her + and taking her out. Then people told us of her goings on with that scamp + Clanmacklosky and that sister of his. Victoria talked to her by the yard, + but she denied it, and we thought it all gossip. Regie came up for a + couple of nights, and she was as sweet on him as ever, and sent him away + thinking it all right; but the end of it was, she fought off going down to + Rotherwood with us, but went to Brighton with Lady Conway, and the next + thing we heard was that she wrote to throw Reginald over, and she married + Clanmacklosky a month after she was twenty-one! I don’t think I ever saw + Victoria so cut up, for we had really liked the girl and thought well of + her. To this hour I believe it was all that woman’s doing, and that poor + Maude has supped sorrow. She has lost all her good looks.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And Regie has never got over it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not so as to believe in a woman again.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He used to be rather a joke for susceptibility, and was still a regular + boy when we went out to Gibraltar. I thought him much graver.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Exactly; since that affair his soul has gone into his regiment. It’s a + wife to him, and luckily he got his promotion in time, so as not to be + shelved.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose it was really an escape.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know—she would have done very well in his hands. She is the + sort of woman to be as you make her, and even now is a world too good for + Clan. Victoria can never be quite cordial with her, but I can’t see the + poor harassed thing without thinking what a sweet creature she once was, + and wishing I’d had the sense to look after her better. But what I came + here for, Lily, was to say you must let me have that Mysie of yours, since + you won’t come yourself to this concern of ours. I’m afraid you won’t + think much good has come of us, but we couldn’t do the Country Mouse much + harm in a fortnight; and you know it is the wish of my heart that my + lonely Fly should grow up on such terms with your flock as Florence and I + did with you all.’ + </p> + <p> + He pleaded quite piteously, and he was backed up by a letter from his + wife, very grateful for her little Phyllis’s happy visit, reiterating the + invitation to Lady Merrifield, and begging that if she still could not + come herself, she would at least send Jasper and Mysie for the Butterfly’s + Ball. Mysie’s fancy dress would be ready for her, only waiting for the + final touches after it was tried on. Lady Florence Devereux, too, was near + at hand, and wrote to promise to look after Mysie. + </p> + <p> + There was no refusing after this. Lady Florence was not far from being + like a sister to her cousins. She had tended her mother’s old age, and had + subsequently settled down into the lady of all work of Rotherwood parish. + Lady Merrifield had much confidence in her, and indeed all she saw of Fly + gave her a great respect for Lady Rotherwood’s management of her child. + Harry was going to his uncle’s at Beechcroft for some shooting, and would + bring Mysie home when Jasper went back to school. + </p> + <p> + So Gillian was called to her mother’s room to be told first of the + arrangement, which certainly in some aspects was rather hard on her. + </p> + <p> + ‘I could not help it, my dear,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘without absolutely + asking for an invitation for you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, mamma; and it is Mysie who is Fly’s friend, being the same age and + all. It is quite right, and I understand it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, I am so glad I can do such a thing as this. If there were small + jealousies among you, I could not venture on letting you be set aside, for + I know the disappointment was quite as great to you as to Mysie, when we + gave it up.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But she was better about it than I,’ said Gillian; ‘mamma, your trusting + me in that way is better than a dozen balls. Besides, I know I should hate + being there without you; I’m a great old thing, as Jasper says, neither + fish nor fowl, you know, not come out, and not a little girl in the + schoolroom, and it would be very horrid going to a grand place like that + on one’s own account.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s right, Gillyflower. ‘Tis very wholesome to discover the sourness + of the grapes. And as I think grandmamma is really coming, I shall want + you at home, and to look after Dolores.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s the worst of it, mamma; I shall never get on with her as Mysie + does.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We must do our best, for I do think really the poor child is improving.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Lessons will begin again! That’s one comfort,’ said Gillian, rather + quaintly, thinking of the length of time that Dolores would thus be off + her hands. + </p> + <p> + ‘And now call Mysie. I must speak to her.’ + </p> + <p> + As for Mysie, she was in a state of rapture. She knew her bliss before her + mother had communicated it, for Lord Rotherwood could not refrain from + telling his daughter that consent was gained, and Fly darted headlong to + embrace Mysie, dance round her and rejoice. The boys declared that Mysie + at once sprang into the air like a chamois, and that her head touched the + ceiling, but this is believed to be a figment of Jasper’s. + </p> + <p> + It was only on the summons to her mother’s room that Mysie discovered that + Gillian was not going with her. It dimmed the lustre of her delight for a + little while, ‘Oh, Gill, aren’t you very sorry? You ought to have had the + first turn.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Never mind, Mysie, you are Fly’s friend,’—and the two sisters’ + looks at one another at that moment were a real pleasure to their mother. + </p> + <p> + Mysie was of a less shy nature than Gillian, as well as at a less awkward + age, so that the visiting without her mother was less formidable, and she + rushed about wild with delight; but Dolores was very disconsolate. + </p> + <p> + ‘Every one I care for goes away and changes,’ she said in her melancholy + little sentiment. + </p> + <p> + ‘But it’s only for a fortnight, Dolly, I don’t think I could change so + fast.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, you will, among all those swells. You like Fly ever so much + better than me.’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie looked grieved and puzzled, but then exclaimed, in the tone of a + discovery, ‘There are different sorts of likings, Dolly, don’t you see. I + do love Fly very much, but you know you are like a sort of almost twin + sister to me. I like her best, but I care about you most!’ + </p> + <p> + With which curious distinction Dolores had to put up. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. — A SADDER AND A WISER AUTHORESS. + </h2> + <p> + Colonel Mohun took Wilfred to his school, which began its term earlier + than did Jasper’s, and Silver-ton was wonderfully quiet. The elder Mrs. + Merrifield was not to come for nearly a week, so that it would have been + possible for her daughter-in-law to go to the Rotherwood festivities + without interfering with her visit, but this no one except Gillian and + Mysie knew, and they kept the secret well. + </p> + <p> + The departure of the boys was a great relief to Dolores. Her aunt did not + rank her with Valetta and Fergus, but let her consort with herself and + Gillian, and this suited her much better. Even Gillian allowed that she + was ever so much nicer when there was no one to tease her. It was true + that Jasper certainly, and perhaps Wilfred, would not have molested her if + she had not offended the latter, and offered herself as fair game; but + Gillian, who had to forestall and prevent their pranks, could not feel + their absence quite the privation her sisterly spirit usually did! + </p> + <p> + Valetta and Fergus were harmless without them, but they were forlorn, + being so much used to having their sports led by their two seniors that + they hardly knew what to do without them, and the entreaty, or rather the + whine, ‘I want something to do,’ was heard unusually often. This led to + Gillian’s being often called off to attend to them during the course of + wet days that ensued, and thus Dolores was a good deal alone with her + aunt, who was superintending her knitting a pair of silk stockings to send + out to her father, it was hoped in time for his next birthday. + </p> + <p> + At the first proposal, Dolores looked dull and unwilling, and at last she + squeezed out, ‘I don’t think father will ever want me to do anything for + him again.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My poor child, do you think a father does not forgive and love all the + more one who is in deep sorrow for a fault?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t think my letter seemed sorry! I was not half so sorry then as I + am now,’ then at a kind word from her aunt her eyes overflowed, and she + said, ‘No, I wasn’t; I didn’t know how good you were, or how bad I was!’ + </p> + <p> + And when Aunt Lily kissed her, she put her arms round the kind neck that + bent down to her, and laid her head against it, as if it was quite a rest + to feel that love. Her aunt encouraged her to write again to her father, + and to try to express something of her grief and entreaty for forgiveness, + and she was somewhat cheered after this; as though something of the load + on her mind was removed. One day she brought down all the books in her + room and said, ‘Please, Aunt Lily, look at them, and let them be with the + rest in the schoolroom, I want to be just like the others.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield was much pleased with this surrender. Some of the books + were really well worth having and reading, indeed, the best of them she + knew, but there were eight or ten which she suspected of being what Mysie + called silly stories, and she kept them back to look over. She had been + trying in this quiet interval to get Dolly to read something besides mere + childish stories for recreation; and when she saw how well worn the story + books were, and how untouched the ‘easy history,’ and the books about + animals and foreign countries were, she saw why so clever a girl as + Dolores seemed so stupid about everything she had not learnt as a lesson, + and entirely ignorant of English poetry. + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield read to her and Gillian in the evenings, and how they did + enjoy it, and bemoaned the coming of grandmamma, to spoil their snugness + and occupy ‘mamma.’ For Dolores began so to call Lady Merrifield. She had + never so termed her own mother, and it seemed to her that with the words + ‘Aunt Lily’ she put away all sorts of foolish, sinister feelings. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mrs. Merrifield was a wonderful old lady, brisk of mind and body, though + of great age. She had been spending Christmas with her eldest son, the + Admiral, at Stokesley, and was going to take on her way the + daughter-in-law, of whom she knew but little in comparison; and with her + she brought the granddaughter, Elizabeth Merrifield, who—since her + own daughter had died—generally lived with her in London, to take + care of her. + </p> + <p> + ‘It will be all company and horrid, and nobody will be allowed to make a + noise!’ sighed Valetta to Fergus, as the waggonette, well shut up, drove + to the door. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s cousin Bessie,’ said Fergus. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, cousin Bessie is thirty-four, and that is as bad as being as old as + grandmamma!’ + </p> + <p> + And they hung back while the old lady was helped out, and brought across + the hall into the warm drawing-room before her fur cloak was taken off. + There was a quiet little person with her, and Val whispered, ‘She’ll be + just like Aunt Jane.’ + </p> + <p> + But the eyes that Bessie turned on her cousins were not at an like Aunt + Jane’s little searching black ones. They were of a dark shade of grey, and + had a wonderful softness and sweetness in them. Gillian knew her a little + already, but very little, for there had always been the elder sisters at + their former short meetings. Mamma lamented that there should be so few + grandchildren at home to be shown, though, as she said, ‘the full number + might have been too noisy.’ + </p> + <p> + Grandmamma shook her head. ‘I like the house full,’ she said, ‘I’m all + right, but it is a pity to see the nest emptied, like Stokesley, now. + Nobody left at home but Susan and little Sally! Make the most of them + while you have them about you!’ + </p> + <p> + The old lady was quite delighted to find Primrose so nearly a baby, and to + have one grandchild still quite as small or smaller than some of her great + grandchildren whom she had never seen. Her great pleasure, however, soon + proved to be in talking about her son Jasper, and hearing all his wife + could tell her about his life in India; and as Lady Merrifield liked no + other subject so well, they were very happy together, and quite absorbed. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Bessie made herself a companion to Gillian and Dolores, and + though so much older, seemed to consider herself as a girl like them. + Then, living for the most part in town, she could talk about London + matters to Dolly, and this was a great treat, while yet she had country + tastes enough to suit Gillian, and was not in the least afraid of a long + walk to the fir plantations to pick up Weymouth pine cones, and the still + more precious pinaster ones. + </p> + <p> + For the first time Gillian began to see Dolores as Uncle Reginald used to + know her, free from that heavy mist of sullen dislike to everything and + everybody. It seemed to bring them together, but, in spite of Bessie’s + charms, they both continually missed Mysie, out of doors and in, in + schoolroom and drawing-room, and, above all, in Dolly’s bedroom. She + seemed to be, as Gillian told Bessie, ‘a sort of family cement, holding + the two ends, big and little, together;’ and Bessie responded that her + elder sister Susan was one of that sort. + </p> + <p> + The evenings now were quite unlike the usual ones. Dinner was late, and + the two girls came down to it. Afterwards the young ones sat round the + fire in the hall, where Bessie, who was a wonderful story-teller, kept + Fergus and Valetta quiet and delighted, either with invented tales or + histories of the feats of her own brothers and sisters, who were so much + older than their Silverton first cousins as to be like an elder + generation. + </p> + <p> + When the two young ones were gone to bed, the others came into the + drawing-room, where mamma and grandmamma were to be found, either going + over papa’s letters, or else Mrs. Merrifield talking about her Stokesley + grandchildren, the same whose pranks Bessie had just been telling, so that + it was not easy to believe in Sam, a captain in the navy. Harry and John + farming in Canada, David working as a clergy-man in the Black Country, + George in a government office, Anne a clergyman’s wife, and mother to the + great grandchildren who were always being compared to Primrose, Susan + keeping her father’s house, and Sarah, though as old as Alethea, still + treated as the youngest—the child of the family. + </p> + <p> + The bits of conversation came to the girls as they sat over their work, + and Bessie would join in, and tell interesting things, till she saw that + grandmamma was ready for her nap, and then one or other gave a little + music, during which Dolly’s bed-time generally came. + </p> + <p> + ‘You can’t think how grateful I am to you for helping to brighten up that + poor child in a wholesome way!’ said Lady Merrifield to Bessie, under + cover of Gillian’s performance. + </p> + <p> + ‘One can’t help being very sorry for her,’ said Elizabeth, who knew what + was hanging over Dolly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, it is a terrible punishment, especially as she has a certain + affection for her step-uncle, or whatever he should be called, for her + mother’s sake. It really was a perplexed situation.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But why did she not consult you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you know, I think I have found out. She held aloof from us all, and + treated us—especially me—as if we were her natural enemies, + and I never could guess what was the reason till the other day; she + voluntarily gave me up all her books to be looked over and put into the + common stock, which you saw in the schoolroom.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You look over all the children’s books?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes. While we were wandering, they did not get enough to make it a very + arduous task, and now I find that they want weeding. If children read + nothing but a multitude of stories rather beneath their capacity, they are + likely never to exert themselves to anything beyond novel reading.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is quite true, I believe.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, among this literature of Dolly’s I found no less than four stories + based on the cruelty and injustice suffered by orphans from their aunts. + The wicked step-mothers are gone out, and the barbarous aunts are come in. + It is the stock subject. I really think it is cruel, considering that + there are many children who have to be adopted into uncles’ families, to + add to their distress and terror, by raising this prejudice. Just look at + this one’—taking up Dolly’s favourite, ‘Clare; or No Home’—‘it + is not at all badly written, which makes it all the worse.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Aunt Lilias,’ cried Bessie, whose colour had been rising all this + time. ‘How shall I tell you? I wrote it!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You! I never guessed you did anything in that line.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We don’t talk about it. My father knows, and so does grandmamma, in a + way; but I never bring it before her if I can help it, for she does not + half like the notion. But, indeed, they aren’t all as bad as that! I know + now there is a great deal of silly imitation in it; but I never thought of + doing harm in this way. It is a punishment for thoughtlessness,’ cried + poor Bessie, reddening desperately, and with tears in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, I am so sorry I said it! If I bad not one of these aunts, I + should think it a very effective story.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m afraid that’s so much the worse! Let me tell you about it, Aunt + Lilias. At home, they always laughed at me for my turn for dismalities.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I believe one always has such a turn when one is young.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, when I went to live with grandmamma, it was very different from the + houseful at home, I had so much time on my hands, and I took to dreaming + and writing because I could not help it, and all my stories were fearfully + doleful. I did not think of publishing them for ever so long, but at last + when David terribly wanted some money for his mission church, I thought I + would try, and this Clare was about the best. They took it, and gave me + five pounds for it, and I was so pleased and never thought of its doing + harm, and now I don’t know how much more mischief it may have done!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You only thought of piling up the agony! But don’t be unhappy about it. + You don’t know how many aunts it may have warned.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m afraid aunts are not so impressionable as nieces. And, indeed, among + ourselves story-books seemed quite outside from life, we never thought of + getting any ideas from them any more than from Bluebeard.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So it has been with some of mine, while, on the other hand, Dolores + seemed to Mysie an interesting story-book heroine—which indeed she + is, rather too much so. But you have not stood still with Clare.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I hope I have grown rather more sensible. David set me to do stories + for his lads, and, as he is dreadfully critical, it was very improving.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you write ‘Kate’s Jewel’? That is delightful. Aunt Jane gave it to + Val this Christmas, and all of us have enjoyed it! We shall be quite proud + of it—that is—may I tell the children?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, aunt, you are very good to try to make me forget that miserable + Clare. I wonder whether it will do any good to tell Dolores all about it. + Only I can’t get at all the other girls I may have hurt.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nay, Bessie, I think it most likely that Dolores would have been an + uncomfortable damsel, even if Clare had remained in your brain. There were + other causes, at any rate, here are three more persecuted nieces in her + library. Besides, as you observed, everybody does not go to story-books + for views of human nature, and happily, also, homeless children are + commoner in books than out of them, so I don’t think the damage can be + very extensive.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘One such case is quite enough! Indeed, it is a great lesson to think + whether what one writes can give any wrong notion.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I believe one always does begin with imitation.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, it is extraordinary how little originality there is in the world. In + the literature of my time, everybody had small hands and high foreheads, + the girls wanted to do great things, and did, or did not do, little ones, + and the boys all took first classes, and the fashion was to have violet + eyes, so dark you could not tell their colour, and golden hair.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Whereas now the hair is apt to be bronze, whatever that may be like.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And all the dresses, and all the complexions, and all the lace, and all + the roses, are creamy. Bessie, I hope you don’t deal in creaminess!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m afraid skim milk is more like me, and that you would say I had taken + to the goody line. I never thought of the responsibility then, only when I + wrote for David’s classes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is a responsibility, I suppose, in the way in which every word one + speaks and every letter one writes is so. And now—here is Gillian + finishing her piece. How far is it a secret, my dear.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It need not be so here, Aunt Lilias. Only my people are rather + old-fashioned, you know, and are inclined to think it rather shocking of + me, so it ought not to go beyond the family, and especially don’t ‘let + her,’ indicating her grandmother, ‘hear about it. She knows I do such + things—it would not be honest not to tell her—but it goes + against the grain, and she has never heard one word of it all.’ + </p> + <p> + It appeared that Bessie daily read the psalms and lessons to grandmamma, + followed up by a sermon. Then, with her wonderful eyes, Mrs. Merrifield + read the newspaper from end to end, which lasted her till luncheon, then + came a drive in the brougham, followed by a rest in her own room, dinner, + and then Bessie read her to sleep with a book of travels or biography, of + the old book-club class of her youth. Her principles were against novels, + and the tale she viewed as only fit for children. + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield could not help thinking what a dull life it must be for + Bessie, a woman full of natural gifts and of great powers of enjoyment, + accustomed to a country home and a large family, and she said something of + the kind. ‘I did not like it at first,’ said Bessie, ‘but I have plenty of + occupations now, besides all these companions that I’ve made for myself, + or that came to me, for I think they come of themselves.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But what time have you to yourself?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Grandmamma does not want me till half-past ten in the morning, except for + a little visit. And she does not mind my writing letters while she is + reading the paper, provided I am ready to answer anything remarkable. I am + quite the family newsmonger! Then there’s always from four to half-past + six when I can go out if I like. There’s a dear old governess of ours + living not far off, and we have nice little expeditions together. And you + know it is nice to be at the family headquarters in London, and have every + one dropping in.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh dear! how good you are to like going on like that,’ said Gillian, who + had come up while this was passing; ‘I should eat my heart out; you must + be made up of contentment.’ + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth held up her hand in warning lest her grandmother should be + wakened, but she laughed and said, ‘My brothers would tell you I used to + be Pipy Bet. But that dear old governess. Miss Fosbrook, was the making of + me, and taught me how to be jolly like Mark Tapley among the + rattlesnakes,’ she finished, looking drolly up to Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘And, Gill, you don’t know what Bessie has made her companions instead of + the rattlesnakes,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘What do you think of “Kate’s + Jewel?”’ + </p> + <p> + Gillian’s astonishment and rapture actually woke grandmamma; not that she + made much noise, but there was a disturbing force about her excitement; + and the subject had to be abandoned. + </p> + <p> + As the great secret might be shared with Dolores, though not with the + younger ones, whose discretion could not be depended upon, Gillian could + enter upon it the more freely, though she was rather disappointed that an + author was not such an extraordinary sight to Dolly as to herself. But it + was charming to both that Bessie let them look at the proofs of the story + she was publishing in a magazine; and allowed them as well as mamma, to + read the manuscript of the tale, romance, or novel, whichever it was to be + called, on which she wished for her aunt’s opinion. + </p> + <p> + Bessie took care, when complying with the girls’ entreaty, that she would + tell them all she had written; to observe that, she thought ‘Clare’ a very + foolish book indeed, and that she wished heartily she had never written + it. Gillian asked why she had done it? + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh,’ said Dolores, ‘things aren’t interesting unless something horrid + happens, or some one is frightened, or very miserable.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I like things best just and exactly as they really are—or were,’ + said Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘The question between sensation and character,’ said Bessie to her aunt. + ‘I suppose that, on the whole, it is the few who are palpably affected by + the mass of fiction in the world; but that it is needful to take good care + that those few gather at least no harm from one’s work—to be + faithful in it, in fact, like other things.’ + </p> + <p> + And there was no doubt that Bessie had been faithful in her work ever + since she had realized her vocation. Her lending library books, written + with a purpose, were excellent, and were already so much valued by Miss + Hacket, that Gillian thought how once she should have felt it a privation + not to be allowed to tell her whence they came; but to her surprise on the + Sunday, instead of the constraint with which of late she had been treated + at tea-time, the eager inquiry was made whether this was really the + authoress, Miss Merrifield? + </p> + <p> + Secrets are not kept as well as people think. The Hackets’ married sister + was a neighbour of Bessie’s married sister, and through these ladies it + had just come round, not only who was the author of ‘Charlie’s Whistle,’ + etc., but that she wrote in the —— Magazine, and was in the + neighbourhood. + </p> + <p> + All offences seemed to be forgotten in the burning desire for an + introduction to this marvel of success. Constance had made the most of her + opportunities in gazing at church; but if she called, would she be + introduced? + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course,’ said Gillian, ‘if my cousin is in the room.’ She spoke rather + coldly and gravely, and Miss Hacket exclaimed— + </p> + <p> + ‘I know we have been a little remiss, my dear, I hope Lady Merrifield was + not offended.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma is never offended,’ said Gillian—‘but, I do think, and so + would she and all of us, that if Constance comes, she ought to treat + Dolores Mohun—as—as usual.’ + </p> + <p> + The two sisters were silent, perhaps from sheer amazement at this outbreak + of Gillian’s, who had never seemed particularly fond of her cousin. + Gillian was quite as much surprised at herself, but something seemed to + drive her on, with flaming cheeks. ‘Dolores is half broken-hearted about + it all. She did not thoroughly know how wrong it was; and it does make her + miserable that the one who went along with her in it should turn against + her, and cut her and all.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Connie never meant to keep it up, I’m sure,’ said Miss Hacket; ‘but she + was very much hurt.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So was Dolly,’ said Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is she so fond of me?’ said Constance, in a softened tone. + </p> + <p> + ‘She was,’ replied Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m sure,’ said Miss Hacket, ‘our only wish is to forget and forgive as + Christians. Lady Merrifield has behaved most handsomely, and it is our + most earnest wish that this unfortunate transaction should be forgotten.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And I’m sure I’m willing to overlook it all,’ said Constance. ‘One must + have scrapes, you know; but friendship will triumph over all.’ + </p> + <p> + Gillian did not exactly wish to unravel this fine sentiment, and was glad + that the little G.F.S. maid came in with the tea. + </p> + <p> + Lady Merrifield was a good deal diverted with Gillian’s report, and + invited the two sisters to luncheon on the plea of their slight + acquaintance with Anne—otherwise Mrs. Daventry—with a hint in + the note not to compliment Mrs. Merrifield on Elizabeth’s production. + </p> + <p> + Then Dolores had to be prepared to receive any advance from Constance. She + looked disgusted at first, and then, when she heard that Gillian had + spoken her mind, said, ‘I can’t think why you should care.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course I care, to have Constance behaving so ill to one of us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you think me one of you, Gillian?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Who, what else are you?’ + </p> + <p> + And Dolores held up her face for a kiss, a heartier one than had ever + passed between the cousins. There was no kiss between the quondam friends, + but they shook hands with perfect civility, and no stranger would have + guessed their former or their present terms from their manner. In fact, + Constance was perfectly absorbed in the contemplation of the successful + authoress, the object of her envy and veneration, and only wanted to + forget all the unpleasantness connected with the dark head on the opposite + side of the table. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh Miss Merrifield,’ she asked, in an interval afterwards, when hats were + being put on, ‘bow do you make them take your things?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know,’ said Bessie, smiling. ‘I take all the pains I can, and try + to make them useful.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Useful, but that’s so dull—and the critics always laugh at things + with a purpose.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But I don’t think that is a reason for not trying to do good, even in + this very small and uncertain way. Indeed,’ she added, earnestly. ‘I have + no right to speak, for I have made great mistakes; but I wanted to tell + you that the one thing I did get published, which was not written + conscientiously—as I may say—but only to work out a silly, + sentimental fancy, has brought me pain and punishment by the harm I know I + did.’ + </p> + <p> + This was a very new idea to Constance, and she actually carried it away + with her. The visit had restored the usual terms of intercourse with the + Hackets, though there was no resumption of intimacy such as there had + been, between Constance and Dolores. It had, however, done much to make + the latter feel that the others considered themselves one with them, and + there was something that drew them together in the universal missing of + Mysie, and eagerness for her letters. + </p> + <p> + These were, however, rather disappointing. Mysie had not a genius for + correspondence, and dealt in very bare facts. There was an enclosure which + made Lady Merrifield somewhat anxious: + </p> + <p> + ‘My Dear Mamma, ‘This is for you all by yourself. I have been in sad + mischief, for I broke the conservatory and a palm-tree with my umbrella; + and I did still worse, for I broke my promise and told all about what you + told me never to. I will tell you all when I come home, and I hope you + will forgive me. I wish I was at home. It is very horrid when they say one + is good and one knows one is not; but I am very happy, and Lord Rotherwood + is nicer than ever, and so is Fly. ‘I am your affectionate and penitent + and dutiful little daughter, + </p> + <p> + ‘MARIA MILLICENT MERRIFIELD.’ + </p> + <p> + With all mamma’s intuitive knowledge of her little daughter’s mind and + forms of expression, she was puzzled by this note and the various + fractures it described. She obeyed its injunctions of secrecy, even with + regard to Gillian and Bessie, though she could not help wishing that the + latter could have seen and judged of her Mysie. + </p> + <p> + Grandmamma was somewhat disappointed to have missed her eldest grandson, + but she was obliged to leave Silverton two days before his return with his + little sister. She had certainly escaped the full tumult of the entire + household, but Bessie observed that she suspected that it might have been + preferred to the general quiescence. + </p> + <p> + In spite of all the regrets that Bessie’s more coeval cousins, Alethea and + Phyllis were not at home, she and her aunt each felt that a new friendship + had been made, and that they understood each other, and Bessie had uttered + her resolution henceforth always to think of the impression for good or + evil produced on the readers, as well as of the effectiveness of her + story. ‘Little did I suppose that ‘Clare’ would add to any one’s + difficulties,’ she said, ‘still less to yours, Aunt Lilias.’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. — CONFESSIONS OF A COUNTRY MOUSE. + </h2> + <p> + Here were the travellers at home again, and Mysie clinging to her mother, + with, ‘Oh, Mamma!’ and a look of perfect rest. They arrived at the same + time as Dolores had come, so late that Mysie was tired out, and only half + awake. She was consigned to Mrs. Halfpenny after her first kiss, but as + she passed along the corridor, a door was thrown back, and a white figure + sprang upon her. ‘Oh, Mysie! Mysie!’ and in spite of the nurse’s chidings, + held her fast in an embrace of delight. Dolores had been lying awake + watching for her, and implored permission at least to look on while she + was going to bed! + </p> + <p> + Harry meanwhile related his experiences to his mother and Gillian over the + supper-table. The Butterfly’s Ball had been a great success. He had never + seen anything prettier in his life. Plants and lights had been judiciously + disposed so as to make the hall a continuation of the conservatory, almost + a fairy land, and the children in their costumes had been more like + fairies than flesh and blood, pinafore and bread-and-butter beings. There + was a most perfect tableau at the opening of the scenery constructed with + moss and plants, so as to form a bower, where the Butterfly and + Grasshopper, with their immediate attendants, welcomed their company, and + afterwards formed the first quadrille, Lady Phyllis, with Mysie and two + other little girls staying in the house, being the butterflies, and Lord + Ivinghoe and three more boys of the same ages, the grasshoppers, in pages’ + dresses of suitable colours. + </p> + <p> + ‘I never thought,’ said Harry, ‘that our little brown mouse would come out + so pretty or so swell.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She wanted to be the dormouse,’ said Gillian. + </p> + <p> + ‘That was impracticable. They were all heath butterflies of different + sorts, wings very correctly coloured and dresses to correspond. Phyllis + the ringlet with the blue lining, Mysie, the blue one, little Lady + Alberta, the orange-tip, and the other child the burnet moth.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How did Mysie dance?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very fairly, if she had not looked so awfully serious. The + dancing-mistress, French, of course, had trained them, it was more ballet + than quadrille, and they looked uncommonly pretty. Uncle William granted + that, though he grumbled at the whole concern as nonsense, and wondered + you should send your nice little girl into it to have her head turned.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you think she was happy?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, yes, of course. She always is, but she was in prodigious spirits when + we started to come home. Lady Rotherwood said I was to tell you that no + child could be more truthful and conscientious. Still somehow she did not + look like the swells. Except that once, when she was got up regardless of + expense for the ball, she always had the country mouse look about her. She + hadn’t—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The ‘Jenny Say Caw,’ as Macrae calls it?’ said his mother. ‘Well, I can + endure that! You need not look so disgusted, Gill. You didn’t hear of her + getting into any scrape, did you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said Hal. ‘Stay, I believe she did break some glass or other, and + blurted out her confession in full assembly, but I was over at Beechcroft, + and I am happy to say I didn’t see her.’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie’s tap came early to her mother’s door the next morning, and it was + in the midst of her toilette that Lady Merrifield was called on to hear + the confession that had been weighing on the little girl’s mind. + </p> + <p> + ‘I was too sleepy to tell you last night, mamma, but I did want to do so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, then, my dear, begin at the beginning, for I could not understand + your letter.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The beginning was, mamma, that we had just come in from our walk, and we + went out into the schoolroom balcony, because we could see round the + corner who was coming up the drive. And we began playing at camps, with + umbrellas up as tents. Ivinghoe, and Alberta, and I. Ivy was general, and + I was the sentry, with my umbrella shut up, and over my shoulder. I was + the only one who knew how to present arms. I heard something coming, and + called out, ‘Who goes there?’ and Alberta jumped up in such a hurry that + the points other tent—her umbrella, I mean—scratched my face, + and before I could recover arms, over went my umbrella, perpendicular, + straight smash through the glass of the conservatory, and we heard it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And what did you do? Of course you told!’ + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes! I jumped up and said, ‘I’ll go and tell Lady Rotherwood.’ I knew + I must before I got into a fright, and Ivinghoe said I couldn’t then, and + he would speak to his mother and make it easy for me, and Ply says he + really meant it; but I thought then that’s the way the bad ones always get + the others into concealments and lies. So I wouldn’t listen a moment, and + I ran down, with him after me, saying, ‘Hear reason, Mysie.’ And I ran + full butt up against some-body—Lord Ormersfield it was, I found—but + I didn’t know then. I only said something about begging pardon, and dashed + on, and opened the door. I saw a whole lot of fine people all at + five-o’clock tea, but I couldn’t stop to get more frightened, and I went + up straight to Lady Rotherwood and said, ‘Please, I did it.’ Mamma do you + think I ought not?” + </p> + <p> + ‘There are such things as fit places and times, my dear. What did she + say?’ + </p> + <p> + “At first she just said, ‘My dear, I cannot attend to you now, run away;’ + but then in the midst, a thought seemed to strike her, and she said, + rather frightened, ‘Is any one hurt?’ and I said, Oh no; only my umbrella + has gone right through the roof of the conservatory, and I thought I ought + to come and tell her directly. ‘That was the noise,’ said some of the + people, and everybody got up and went to look. And there were Fly and Ivy, + who had got in some other way, and the umbrella was sticking right upright + in the top of one of those palm-trees with leaves like screens, and + somebody said it was a new development of fruit. Lady Rotherwood asked + them what they were doing there, and Ivy said they had come to see what + harm was done. Dear Fly ran up to her and said, ‘We were all at play + together, mother; it was not one more than another;’ but Lady Rotherwood + only said, ‘That’s enough, Phyllis, I will come to you by-and-by in the + schoolroom,’ and she would have sent us away if Cousin Rotherwood himself + had not come in just then, and asked what was the matter. I heard some of + the answers; they were very odd, mamma. One was, ‘A storm of umbrellas and + of untimely confessions;’ and another was, ‘Truth in undress.’” + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, my dear? I hope you were fit to be seen?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I forgot about that, mamma, I had taken off my ulster, and had my little + scarlet flannel underbody, so as to make a better soldier.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh!’ groaned Lady Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘And then that dear, good Fly gave a jump and flew at him, and said, ‘Oh, + daddy, daddy, it’s Mysie, and she has been telling the truth like—like + Frank, or Sir Thomas More, or George Washington, or anybody.’ She really + did say so, mamma.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I can quite believe it of her, Mysie! And how did Cousin Rotherwood + respond?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He sat down upon one of the seats, and took Fly on one knee and me on the + other, though we were big for it—just like papa, you know—and + made us tell him all about it. Lady Rotherwood got the others out of the + way somehow—I don’t know how, for my back was that way, and I think + Ivinghoe went after them, but there was some use in talking to Cousin + Rotherwood; he has got some sense, and knows what one means, as if he was + at the dear, nice playing age, and Ivinghoe was his stupid old father in a + book.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Exactly,’ said Lady Merrifield, delighted, and longing to laugh. + </p> + <p> + ‘But that was the worst of it,’ said Mysie, sadly; ‘he was so nice that I + said all sorts of things I didn’t mean or ought to have said. I told him I + would pay for the glass if he would only wait till we had helped Dolores + pay for those books that the cheque was for, because the man came alive + again, after her wicked uncle said he was dead, and so somehow it all came + out; how you made up to Miss Constance and couldn’t come to the + Butterfly’s Ball for want of new dresses.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Mysie, you should not have said that! I thought you were to be + trusted!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, mamma, I know,’ said Mysie, meekly. ‘I recollected as soon as I had + said it; and told him, and he kissed me and promised he would never tell + anyone, and made Fly promise that she never would. But I have been so + miserable about it ever since, mamma; I tried to write it in a letter, but + I am afraid you didn’t half understand.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I only saw that something was on your mind, my dear. Now that is all + over, I do not so much mind Cousin Rotherwood’s knowing, he has always + been so like a brother; but I do hope both he and Fly will keep their + word. I am more sorry for my little girl’s telling than about his + knowing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And Ivinghoe said my running in that way on all the company was worse + than breaking the glass or the palm-tree. Was it, mamma?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, you know, Mysie, there is a time for all things, and very likely it + vexed Lady Rotherwood more to be invaded by such a little wild colt.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But not Cousin Rotherwood himself, mamma,’ said Mysie, ‘for he said I was + quite right, and an honourable little fellow, just like old times. And so + I told Ivy. And he said in such a way, ‘Every one knew what his father + was.’ So I told him his father was ten thousand times nicer than ever he + would be if he lived a hundred years, and I could not bear him if he + talked in that wicked, disrespectful way, and Fly kissed me for it, mamma, + and said her daddy was worth a hundred of such a prig as he was.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, I am afraid neither you nor Fly showed your good manners.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It was only Ivinghoe, mamma, and I’m sure I don’t care what he thinks, if + he could talk of his father in that way. Isn’t it what you call metallical—no—ironical?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed, Mysie, I don’t wonder it made you very angry, and I can’t be + sorry you showed your indignation.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But please, mamma, what ought I to have done about the glass?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t quite know; I think a very wise little girl might have gone to + Cousin Florence’s room and consulted her. It would have been better than + making an explosion before so many people. Florence was kind to you, I + hope.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, mamma, it was almost like being at home in her room; and she has + such a dear little house at the end of the park.’ + </p> + <p> + A good deal more oozed out from Mysie to different auditors at different + times. By her account everything was delightful, and yet mamma concluded + that all had not absolutely fulfilled the paradisiacal expectation with + which her country mouse had viewed Rotherwood from afar. Lady Rotherwood + was very kind, and so was the governess, and Cousin Florence especially. + Cousin Florence’s house felt just like a bit of home. It really was the + dearest little house—and fluffy cat and kittens, and the sweetest + love birds. It was perfectly delicious when they drank tea there, but + unluckily she was not allowed to go thither without the governess or + Louise, as it was all across the park, and a bit of village. + </p> + <p> + And Fly? Oh, Fly was always dear and good and funny; but there was Alberta + to be attended to, and other little girls sometimes, and it was not like + having her here at home; nor was there any making a row in the galleries, + nor playing at anything really jolly, though the great pillars in the hall + seemed made for tying cords to make a spider’s web. It was always company, + except when Cousin Rotherwood called them into his den for a little fun. + But he had gentlemen to entertain most of the time, and the only day that + he could have taken them to see the farm and the pheasants, Lady + Rotherwood said that Phyllis was a little hoarse and must not get a cold + before the ball. + </p> + <p> + And as to the Butterfly’s Ball itself? Imagination had depicted a splendid + realization of the verses, and it was flat to find it merely a children’s + fancy ball, no acting at all, only dancing, and most of the children not + attempting any characteristic dress, only with some insect attached to + head or shoulder; nothing approaching to the fun of the rehearsal at + Silverton, as indeed Fly had predicted. The only attempt at representation + had cost Mysie more trouble than pleasure, for the training to dance + together had been a difficult and wearisome business. Two of the + grass-hoppers had been greatly displeased about it, and called it a + beastly shame, words much shocking gentle Mysie from aristocratic lips. + One of them had been as sulky, angry, and impracticable as possible, just + like a log, and the other had consoled himself with all manner of tricks, + especially upon the teacher and on Ivinghoe. He would skip like a real + grasshopper, he made faces that set all laughing, he tripped Ivinghoe up, + he uttered saucy speeches that Mysie considered too shocking to repeat, + but which convulsed every one with laughter, Fly most especially, and her + governess had punished her for it. ‘She would not punish me,’ said Mysie, + ‘though I know I was just as bad, and I think that was a shame!’ At last + the practising had to be carried on without the boys, and yet, when it + came to the point, both the recusants behaved as well and danced as + suitably as if they had submitted to the training like their sisters! And + oh! the dressing, that was worse. + </p> + <p> + ‘I did not think I was so stupid,’ said Mysie, ‘but I heard Louise tell + mademoiselle that I was trop bourgeoise, and mademoiselle answered that I + was plutot petite paysanne, and would never have l’air de distinction. + </p> + <p> + ‘Abominable impertinence!’ cried Gillian. + </p> + <p> + “They thought I did not understand,’ said Mysie, ‘and I knew it was fair + to tell them, so I said, ‘Mais non, car je suis la petite souris de + compagne.’” + </p> + <p> + ‘Well done, Mysie!’ cried her sister. + </p> + <p> + ‘They did jump, and Louise began apologizing in a perfect gabble, and + mademoiselle said I had de l’esprit, but I am sure I did not mean it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But how could they?’ exclaimed Gillian. ‘I’m sure Mysie looks like a + lady, a gentleman’s child—I mean as much as Fly or any one else.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I trust you all look like gentlewomen, and are such in refinement and + manners, but there is an air, which comes partly of birth, partly of + breeding, and that none of you, except, perhaps, Alethea, can boast of, + and about which papa and I don’t care one rush.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Has Fly got it, mamma?’ said Valetta. ‘She seemed like one of ourselves.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, yes,’ put in Dolores. ‘It was what made me think her stuck up. I + should have known her for a swell anywhere.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m sure Fly has no airs!’ exclaimed Val, hotly, and Gillian was ready to + second her; but Lady Merrifield explained. ‘The absence of airs is one + ingredient, Val, both in being ladylike, and in the distinction in which + the maid justly perceived our Mouse to be deficient. Come, you foolish + girls, don’t look concerned. Nobody but the maid would have ever let Mysie + perceive the difference.’ + </p> + <p> + Mysie coloured and answered, ‘I don’t know; I saw the Fitzhughs look at me + at first as if they did not think I belonged, and Ivinghoe was always so + awfully polite that I thought he was laughing at me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ivinghoe must be horrid,’ broke out Valetta. + </p> + <p> + ‘The Fitzhughs said they would knock it out of him at Eton,’ returned + Mysie. ‘They got very nice after the first day, and said Fly and I were + twice as jolly fellows as he was.’ + </p> + <p> + It further appeared that Mysie had had plenty of partners at the ball, and + on all occasions her full share of notice, the country neighbours + welcoming her as her mother’s daughter, but most of them saying she was + far more like her Aunt Phyllis than her own mother. The dancing and + excitement so late at night had, however, tired her overmuch, she had + cramp all the remainder of the night, could eat no breakfast the next day, + and was quite miserable. + </p> + <p> + ‘I should like to have cried for you, mamma’ she said, ‘but they were all + quite used to it, and not a bit tired. However, Cousin Florence came in, + and she was so kind. She took me to the little west room, and made me lie + on the sofa, and read to me till I went to sleep, and I was all right + after dinner and had a ride on Fly’s old pony, Dormouse. She has the + loveliest new one, all bay, with a black mane and tail, called Fairy, but + Alberta had that. Oh it was so nice.’ + </p> + <p> + Altogether Lady Merrifield was satisfied that her little girl had not been + spoilt for home by her taste of dissipation, though she did not hear the + further confidence to Dolores in the twilight by the schoolroom fire. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you know, Dolly, though Fly is such a darling, and they all wanted to + be kind as well as they knew how, I came to understand how horrid you must + have felt when you came among the whole lot of us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But you knew Fly already?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That made it better, but I don’t like it. To feel one does not belong, + and to be afraid to open a door for fear it should be somebody’s room, and + not quite to know who every one is. Oh, dear! it is enough to make anybody + cross and stupid. Oh, I am so glad to be back again.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m sure I am glad you are,’ and there was a little kissing match. + ‘You’ll always come to my room, won’t you? Do you know, when Constance + came to luncheon, I only shook hands, I wouldn’t try to kiss her. Was that + unforgiving?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sure I couldn’t,’ said Mysie; ‘did she try?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t think so; I don’t think I ever could kiss her; for I never should + have said what was not true without her, and that is what makes Uncle + Reginald so angry still. He would not kiss me even when he went away. Oh, + Mysie! that’s worse than anything,’ and Dolores’s face contracted with + tears very near at hand. ‘I did always so love Uncle Regie, and he won’t + forgive me, and father will be just the same.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor dear, dear Dolly,’ said Mysie, hugging her. + </p> + <p> + ‘But you know fathers always forgive, and we will try and make a little + prayer about it, like the Prodigal Son’s, you know.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t blow properly,’ said Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘I think I can say him,’ said Mysie, and the little girls sat with + enfolded arms, while Mysie reverently went through the parable. + </p> + <p> + ‘But he had been very wicked indeed,’ objected Dolores, ‘what one calls + dissipated. Isn’t that making too much of such things as girls like us can + do.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know,’ said Mysie, knitting her young brows; ‘you see if we are + as bad as ever we can be while we are at home, it is really and truly as + bad in us ourselves as in shocking people that run away, because it shows + we might have done anything if we had not been taken care of. And the poor + son felt as if he could not be pardoned, which is just what you do feel.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Aunt Lily forgives me,’ said Dolores, wistfully. + </p> + <p> + ‘And your father will, I’m sure,’ said Mysie, ‘though he is yet a great + way off. And as to Uncle Regie, I do wish something would happen that you + could tell the truth about. If you had only broken the palm-tree instead + of me, and I didn’t do right even about that! But if any mischief does + happen, or accident, I promise you, Dolly, you shall have the telling of + it, if you have had ever so little to do with it, and then mamma will + write to Uncle Regie that you have proved yourself truthful.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores did not seem much consoled by this curious promise, and Mysie’s + childishness suddenly gave way to something deeper. ‘I suppose,’ she said, + ‘if one is true, people find it out and trust one.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘People can’t see into one,’ said Dolly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mamma says there is a bright side and a dark side from which to look at + everybody and everything,’ said Mysie. + </p> + <p> + ‘I know that,’ said Dolores; ‘I looked at the dark side of you all when I + came here.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Some day,’ said Mysie, ‘your bright side will come round to Uncle Regie, + as it has to us, you dear, dear old Dolly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But do you know, Mysie,’ whispered Dolores, in her embrace, ‘there’s + something more dreadful that I’m very much afraid of. Do you know there + hasn’t been a letter from father since he was staying with Aunt Phyllis—not + to me, nor Aunt Jane, nor anybody!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, he couldn’t write when he was at sea, I mean there wasn’t any + post.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It would not take so long as this to get to Fiji; and besides. Uncle + Regie telegraphed to ask about that dreadful cheque, and there hasn’t been + any answer at all.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps he is gone about sailing somewhere in the Pacific Ocean; I heard + Uncle William saying so to Cousin Rotherwood.’ He said, ‘Maurice is not a + fellow to resist a cruise.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then they are thinking about it. They are anxious.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not very,’ said Mysie, ‘for they think he is sure to be gone on a cruise. + They said something about his going down like a carpenter into the deep + sea.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Making deep-sea soundings, like Dr. Carpenter! A carpenter, indeed!’ said + Dolores, laughing for a moment. ‘Oh! if it is that, I don’t mind.’ + </p> + <p> + The weight was lifted, but by-and-by, when the two girls said their + prayers together, poor Dolores broke forth again, ‘Oh, Mysie, Mysie, your + papa has all—all of you, besides mamma, to pray that he may be kept + safe, and my father has only me, only horrid me, to pray for him, and even + I have never cared to do it really till just lately! Oh, poor, poor + father! And suppose he should be drowned, and never, never have forgiven + me!’ + </p> + <p> + It was a trouble and misery that recurred night after night, though + apparently it weighed much less during the day—and nobody but Mysie + knew how much Dolores was suffering from it. Lady Merrifield was + increasingly anxious as time went on, and still no mail brought letters + from Mr. Mohun, but confidence based on his erratic habits, and the + uncertainty of communication began to fail. And as she grieved more for + the possible loss, she became more and more tender to her niece, and + strange to say, in spite of the terror that gnawed so achingly every + night, and of the ordeal that the Lent Assizes would bring, Dolores was + happier and more peaceful than ever before at Silverton, and developed + more of her bright side. + </p> + <p> + ‘I really think,’ wrote Lady Merrifield to Miss Mohun, ‘that she is + growing more simple and child-like, poor little maid. She is apparently + free from all our apprehensions about dear Maurice, and I would not + inspire her with them for the world. Neither does she seem to dread the + trial, as I do for her, nor to guess what cross-examination may be. + Constance Hacket has been subpoenaed, and her sister expatiates on her + nervousness. It is one comfort that Reginald must be there as a witness, + so that it is not in the power of Irish disturbances to keep him from us! + May we only be at ease about Maurice by that time!’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. — IN COURT AND OUT. + </h2> + <p> + How Dolores’s heart beat when Colonel Mohun drove up to the door! She + durst not run out to greet him among her cousins; but stood by her aunt, + feeling hot and cold and trembling, in the doubt whether he would kiss + her. + </p> + <p> + Yes, she did feel his kiss, and Mysie looked at her in congratulation. But + what did it mean? Was it only that it came as a matter of course, and he + forgot to withhold it, or was it that he had given up hopes of her father, + and was sorry for her? She could not make up her mind, for he came so late + in the evening that she scarcely saw him before bedtime, and he did not + take any special notice of her the next morning. He had done his best to + save her from being long detained at Darminster, by ascertaining as nearly + as possible when Flinders’s case would come on, and securing a room at the + nearest inn, where she might await a summons into court. Lady Merrifield + was going with them, but would not take either of her daughters, thinking + that every home eye would be an additional distress, and that it was + better that no one should see or remember Dolores as a witness. + </p> + <p> + Miss Mohun met the party at the station, going off, however, with her + brother into court, after having established Lady Merrifield and her niece + in an inn parlour, where they kept as quiet as they could, by the help of + knitting, and reading aloud. Lady Merrifield found that Dolores had been + into court before, and knew enough about it to need no explanation or + preparation, and being much afraid of causing agitation, she thought it + best only to try to interest her in such tales as ‘Neale’s Triumphs of the + Cross,’ instead of letting her dwell on what she most dreaded, the sight + of the prisoner, and the punishment her words might bring upon him. + </p> + <p> + The morning ended, and Uncle Reginald brought word that his case would + come on immediately after luncheon. This he shared with his sister and + niece, saying that Jane had gone to a pastrycook’s with—with + Rotherwood—thinking this best for Dolly. He seemed to be in + strangely excited spirits, and was quite his old self to Dolores, tempting + her to eat, and showing himself so entirely the kind uncle that she would + have been quite cheered up if she had not been afraid that it was all out + of pity, and that he knew something dreadful. + </p> + <p> + Lord Rotherwood met them at the hotel entrance, and took his cousin on his + arm; Dolores following with her uncle, was sure that she gave a great + start at something that he said; but she had to turn in a different + direction to wait under the charge of her uncle, who treated her as if she + were far more childish and inexperienced in the ways of courts than she + really was, and instructed her in much that she knew perfectly well; but + it was too comfortable to have him kind to her for her to take the least + offence, and she only said ‘Yes’ and ‘Thank you’ at the proper places. + </p> + <p> + The sheriff, meantime, had given Lord Rotherwood and Lady Merrifield seats + near the judge, where Miss Mohun was already installed. Alfred Flinders + was already at the bar, and for the first time Lady Merrifield saw his + somewhat handsome but shifty-looking face and red beard, as the counsel + for the prosecution was giving a detailed account of his embarrassed + finances, and of his having obtained from the inexperienced kindness of a + young lady, a mere child in age, who called him uncle, though without + blood relationship, a draft of her father’s for seven pounds, which, when + presented at the bank, had become one for seventy. + </p> + <p> + As before, the presenting and cashing of the seventy pounds was sworn to + by the banker’s clerk, and then Dolores Mary Mohun was called. + </p> + <p> + There she stood, looking smaller than usual in her black, close-fitting + dress and hat, in a place meant for grown people, her dark face pale and + set, keeping her eyes as much as she could from the prisoner. When the + counsel spoke she gave a little start, for she knew him, as one who had + often spent an evening with her parents, in the cheerful times while her + mother lived. There was something in the familiar glance of his eyes that + encouraged her, though he looked so much altered by his wig and gown, and + it seemed strange that he should question her, as a stranger, on her exact + name and age, her father’s absence, the connection with the prisoner, and + present residence. Then came: + </p> + <p> + ‘Did your father leave any money with you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What was the amount?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Five pounds for myself; seven besides.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘In what form was the seven pounds?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A cheque from W.‘s bank.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you part with it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To whom?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I sent it to him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To whom if you please?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To Mr. Alfred Flinders.’ And her voice trembled. + </p> + <p> + ‘Can you tell me when you sent it away?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It was on the 22nd of December.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Is this the cheque?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It has been altered.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Explain in what manner?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There has ‘ty’ been put at the end of the written ‘seven,’ and a cipher + after the figure 7 making it 70.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are sure that it was not so when it went out of your possession?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Perfectly sure.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Calderwood seemed to have done with her, and said, ‘Thank you;’ but + then there stood up a barrister, whom she suspected of being a man her + mother had disliked, and she knew that the worst was coming when he said, + in a specially polite voice too, ‘Allow me to ask whether the cheque in + question had been intended by Mr. Mohun for the prisoner?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Or was it given to you as pocket-money?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, it was to pay a bill.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then did you divert it from that purpose?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought the man was dead.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What man?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Professor Muhlwasser.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The creditor?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Calderwood objected to these questions as irrelevant; but the + prisoner’s counsel declared them to be essential, and the judge let him go + on to extract from Dolores that the payment was intended for an expensive + illustrated work on natural history, which was to be published in Germany. + Her father had promised to take two copies of it if it were completed; but + being doubtful whether this would ever be the case, he had preferred + leaving a draft with her to letting the account be discharged by his + brother, and he had reckoned that seven pounds would cover the expense. + </p> + <p> + ‘You say you supposed the author was dead. What reason had you for + thinking so?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He told me; Mr. Flinders did.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Had Mr. Mohun sanctioned your applying this sum to any other purpose than + that specified?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, he had not. I did wrong,’ said Dolores, firmly. + </p> + <p> + He wrinkled up his forehead, so that the point of his wig went upwards, + and proceeded to inquire whether she had herself given the cheque to the + prisoner. + </p> + <p> + ‘I sent it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you post it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not myself. I gave it to Miss Constance Hacket to send it for me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Can you swear to the sum for which it was drawn when you parted with it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes. I looked at it to see whether it was pounds or guineas.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you give it loose or in an envelope?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘In an envelope.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Was any other person aware of your doing so?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nobody.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What led you to make this advance to the prisoner?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Because he told me that he was in great distress.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He told you. By letter or in person?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘In person.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘When did he tell you so?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘On the 22nd of December.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And where?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘At Darminster.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Let me ask whether this interview at Darminster took place with the + knowledge of the lady with whom you reside?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, it did not,’ said Dolores, colouring deeply. + </p> + <p> + ‘Was it a chance meeting?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No—by appointment.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How was the appointment made?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We wrote to say we would come that day.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We—who was the other party?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Miss Constance Hacket.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You were then in correspondence with the prisoner. Was it with the + sanction of Lady Merrifield?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A secret correspondence, then, romantically carried on—by what + means?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Constance Hacket sent the letters and received them for me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What was the motive for this arrangement?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I knew my aunt would prevent my having anything to do with him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And you—excuse me—what interest had you in doing so?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My mother had been like his sister, and always helped him.’ + </p> + <p> + All these answers were made with a grave, resolute straightforwardness, + generally with something of Dolores’s peculiar stony look, and only twice + was there any involuntary token of feeling, when she blushed at confessing + the concealment from her aunt, and at the last question, when her voice + trembled as she spoke of her mother. She kept her eyes on her + interrogators all the time, never once glancing towards the prisoner, + though all the time she had a sensation as if his reproachful looks were + piercing her through. + </p> + <p> + She was dismissed, and Constance Hacket was brought in, looking about in + every direction, carrying a handkerchief and scent bottle, and not + attempting to conceal her flutter of agitation. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Calderwood had nothing to ask her but about her having received the + cheque from Miss Mohun and forwarded it to Flinders, though she could not + answer for the date without a public computation back from Christmas Day, + and forward from St. Thomas’s. As to the amount— + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, yes, certainly, seven pounds.’ + </p> + <p> + Moreover she had posted it herself. + </p> + <p> + Then came the cross-examination, + </p> + <p> + ‘Had she seen the draft before posting it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well—she really did not remember exactly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How did she know the amount then?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I think—yes—I think Dolores told me so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You think,’ he said, in a sort of sneer. ‘On your oath. Do you know?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, yes, yes. She assured me! I know something was said about seven.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then you cannot swear to the contents of the envelope you forwarded?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know. It was all such a confusion and hurry.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why so?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! because it was a secret.’ + </p> + <p> + The counsel of course availed himself of this handle to elicit that the + witness had conducted a secret correspondence between the prisoner and her + young friend without the knowledge of the child’s natural protectors. ‘A + perfect romance,’ he said, ‘I believe the prisoner is unmarried.’ + </p> + <p> + Perhaps this insinuation would have been checked, but before any one had + time to interfere, Constance, blushing crimson, exclaimed, ‘Oh! Oh! I + assure you it was not that. It was because she said he was her uncle and + that they ill-used him.’ + </p> + <p> + This brought upon her the searching question whether the last witness had + stated the prisoner to be really her uncle, and Constance replied, rather + hotly, that she had always understood that he was. + </p> + <p> + ‘In fact, she gave you to understand that the prisoner was actually + related to her by blood. Did you say that she also told you that he was + persecuted or ill-used by her other relations?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought so. Yes, I am sure she said so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And it was wholly and solely on these grounds that you assisted in this + clandestine correspondence?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why—yes—partly,’ faltered Constance, thinking of her literary + efforts, ‘so it began.’ + </p> + <p> + There was a manifest inclination to laugh in the audience, who naturally + thought her hesitation implied something very different; and the judge, + thinking that there was no need to push her further, when Mr. Calderwood + represented that all this did not bear on the matter, and was no evidence, + silenced Mr. Yokes, and the witness was dismissed. + </p> + <p> + The next point was that Colonel Reginald Mohun was called upon to attest + that the handwriting was his brother’s. He answered for the main body of + the draft, and the signature, but the additions, in which the forgery lay, + were so slight that it was impossible to swear that they did not come from + the hand of Maurice Mohun. + </p> + <p> + ‘Had application been made to Mr. Mohun on the subject?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, Colonel Mohun had immediately telegraphed to him at the address in + the Fiji Islands.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Has any answer been received?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No!’ but Colonel Mohun had a curious expression in his eyes, and Mr. + Calderwood electrified the court by begging to call upon Mr. Maurice + Mohun. + </p> + <p> + There he was in the witness-box, looking sunburnt but vigorous. He replied + immediately to the question that the cheque was his own, and that it had + been left under his daughter’s charge, also that it had been for seven + pounds, and the ‘ty’ and the cypher had never been written by him. The + prisoner winced for a moment, and then looked at him defiantly. + </p> + <p> + The connection with Alfred Flinders was inquired into and explained, and + being asked as to the term ‘Uncle,’ he replied, ‘My daughter was allowed + to get into the habit of so terming him.’ + </p> + <p> + The sisters saw his look of pain, and Jane remembered his strong objection + to the title, and his wife’s indignant defence of it. + </p> + <p> + Dolores stood trembling outside in the waiting-room, by her Uncle + Reginald, from whom she heard that her father had come that morning from + London with Lord Rotherwood, but that it had been thought better not to + agitate her by letting her know of it before she gave her evidence. + </p> + <p> + ‘Has he had my letter?’ she asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘No; he knew nothing till he saw Rotherwood last night.’ + </p> + <p> + All the misery of writing the confession came back upon poor Dolores, and + she turned quite white and sick, but her uncle said kindly, ‘Never mind, + my dear, he was very much pleased with your manner of giving evidence. + Such a contrast to your friend’s. Faugh!’ + </p> + <p> + In a few more seconds Mr. Mohun had come out. He took the cold, trembling + hands in his own, pressed them close, met the anxious eyes with his own, + full of moisture, and said, ‘My poor little girl,’ in a tone that somehow + lightened Dolly’s heart of its worst dread. + </p> + <p> + ‘Will you go back into court?’ asked the colonel. + </p> + <p> + ‘You don’t wish it, Dolly?’ said her father. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh no! please not.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then,’ said the colonel, ‘take your father back to the room at the hotel, + and we will come to you. I suppose this will not last much longer.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Probably not half an hour. I don’t want to see that fellow either + convicted or acquitted.’ + </p> + <p> + Then Dolores found herself steered out of the passages and from among the + people waiting or gazing, into the clearer space in the street, her father + holding her hand as if she had been a little child. Neither of them spoke + till they had reached the sitting-room, and there, the first thing he did + when the door was shut, was to sit down, take her between his knees, put + an arm round her, and kiss her, saying again, ‘My poor child!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You never got my letter!’ she said, leaning against him, feeling the + peace and rest his embrace gave. + </p> + <p> + ‘No; but I have heard all. I should have warned you, Dolly; but I never + imagined that he could get at you there; and I was unwilling to accuse one + for whom your mother had a certain affection.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That was why I helped him,’ whispered Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘I knew it,’ he said kindly. ‘But how did he find you out, and how had he + the impertinence to write to you at your Aunt Lily’s—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wrote to him first,’ she said, hanging down her head. + </p> + <p> + ‘How was that? You surely had not been in the habit of doing so whilst I + was at home.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No; but he came and spoke to me at Exeter, the day you went away. Uncle + William was not there, he had gone into the town. And he—Mr. + Flinders, said he was going down to see you, and was very much + disappointed to hear that you were gone.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did he ask you to write to him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t think he did. Father, it seems too silly now, but I was very + angry because Aunt Lilias said she must see all my letters except yours + and Maude Sefton’s, and I told Constance Hacket. She said she would send + anything for me, and I could not think of any one I wanted to write to, so + I wrote to—to him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! I saw you did not get on with your aunt,’ was the answer, ‘that was + partly what brought me home.’ And either not hearing or not heeding her + exclamation, ‘Oh, but now I do,’ he went on to explain that on his arrival + at Fiji he had found that circumstances had altered there, and that the + person with whom he was to have been associated had died, so that the + whole scheme had been broken up. A still better appointment had, however, + been offered to him in New Zealand, on the resignation of the present + holder after a half-year’s notice, and he had at once written to accept + it. A proposal had been made to him to spend the intermediate time in a + scientific cruise among the Polynesian Islands; but the letters he had + found awaiting him at Vanua Levu had convinced him that the arrangements + he had made in England had been a mistake, and he had therefore hurried + home via San Francisco, as fast as any letter could have gone, to wind up + his English affairs, and fetch his daughter to the permanent home in + Auckland, which her Aunt Phyllis would prepare for her. + </p> + <p> + Her countenance betrayed a sudden dismay, which made him recollect that + she was a strangely undemonstrative girl; but before she had recovered the + shock so as to utter more than a long ‘Oh!’ they were interrupted by the + cup of tea that had been ordered for Dolores, and in a minute more, steps + were heard, and the two aunts were in the room. ‘Seven years,’ were Jane’s + first words, and ‘My dear Maurice,’ Lady Merrifield’s, ‘Oh! I wish I could + have spared you this,’ and then among greetings came again, ‘Seven years,’ + from the brother and cousin who had seen the traveller before. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m glad you were not there, Maurice,’ said Lady Merrifield. ‘It was + dreadful.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I never saw a more insolent fellow!’ said Lord Rotherwood. + </p> + <p> + ‘That Yokes, you mean,’ said Miss Mohun. ‘I declare I think he is worse + than Flinders!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s like you women, Jenny,’ returned the colonel; ‘you can’t + understand that a man’s business is to get off his client!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘When he gave him up as an honest man altogether!’ cried Lady Merrifield. + </p> + <p> + ‘And cast such imputations!’ exclaimed Aunt Jane. ‘I saw what the wretch + was driving at all the time of the cross-examination; and if I’d been the + judge, would not I have stopped him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There you go. Lily and Jenny!’ said the colonel, ‘and Rotherwood just as + bad! Why, Maurice would have had to take just the same line if he had been + for the defence.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He would not have done it in such a blackguard fashion though,’ said Lord + Rotherwood. + </p> + <p> + ‘I saw what his defence would be,’ said Mr. Mohun, briefly. + </p> + <p> + ‘There!’ said Colonel Mohun, with a boyish pleasure in confuting his + sisters; but they were not subdued. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now Maurice,’ cried Jane, ‘when that man was known to be utterly + dishonourable and good for nothing, was it fair—was it not contrary + to all common sense—to try to cast the imputation between those two + poor girls? So the judge and jury felt it, I am happy to say! but I call + it abominable to have thrown out the mere suggestion—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nay now, Jane,’ said the colonel, ‘if the man was to be defended at all, + how else was it to be done?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wouldn’t have had him defended at all! but, unfortunately, that’s his + right as an Englishman.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s another thing! But as the cheque did not alter itself, one of the + three must have done it, and nothing was left but to show that there had + been an amount of shuffling, and—in short, nonsense—that might + cast enough doubt on their evidence to make it insufficient for a + conviction.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Reginald! I can’t think how you can stand up for such a wretch, a vulgar + wretch,’ cried Miss Mohun. ‘You put it delicately, as a gentleman who had + the misfortune to be counsel in such a case might do, but he was + infinitely worse than that, though that was bad enough.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It was Yokes,’ put in Mr. Mohun; ‘but what did he say?’ looking anxiously + at his daughter. + </p> + <p> + ‘It was not so bad about her,’ said her uncle, ‘he only made her out a + foolish child, easily played upon by everybody, and possibly ignorant and + frightened, or led away by her regard for her supposed relation. It was + the other poor girl— + </p> + <p> + ‘The amiable susceptibilities of romantic young ladies!’ broke out Lady + Merrifield. ‘Oh, the creature!’ To think of that poor foolish Constance + sitting by to hear it represented that the expedition to Darminster, and + all the rest of it, was because she was actually touched by that fellow. I + really felt ready to take her part.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She had certainly brought it on herself,’ said Aunt Jane; ‘but it was + atrocious of him and if the other counsel had only known it, he stopped + the cross examination just at the wrong time, or it would have come out + that it was literary vanity that was the lure. No doubt he would have made + a laughing-stock of that, but it would not have been as bad as the other.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor thing,’ said Lady Merrifield; ‘it was a trying retribution for + schoolgirl folly and want of conscientiousness. I should think she was a + sadder and a wiser woman.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He must have overdone it,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘he is a vulgar fellow, and + always does so; but, as Reginald says, the only available defence was to + enhance the folly and sentiment of the girls; but of course the judge + charged the other way— + </p> + <p> + ‘Entirely,’ said Lord Rotherwood, ‘he brought Dolly rather well out of it, + saying that as he understood it, a young girl who had seen a needy + connection assisted from her home might think herself justified in + corresponding with him, and even in diverting to his use money left in her + charge, when it was probable that it would not be required for the + original object. He did not say it was right, but it was an error of + judgment by no means implying swindling—in fact. He disposed of Miss + Hacket in the same way—foolish, sentimental, unscrupulous, but not + to that degree. Girls might be silly enough in all conscience, but not so + as to commit forgery or perjury. That was the gist of it, and happily the + jury were of the same opinion.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Happily? Well, I suppose so,’ said Mr. Mohun, with a certain + sorrowfulness of tone, into which his little daughter entered. + </p> + <p> + ‘I say, Rotherwood,’ exclaimed the colonel, as the town clock’s two + strokes for the half-hour echoed loudly, ‘if you mean to catch the 4.50, + you must fly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Fly!’ he coolly repeated. ‘Tell Mysie, Lily, that Fly has never ceased + talking of her. That child has been saving her money to fit out one of + Florence’s orphan’s. She—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Rotherwood,’ broke in Mr. Mohun, ‘your wife charged me to see that you + were in time for that dinner. A ministerial one.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t encourage him, Lily,’ chimed in the colonel. ‘I’ll call a cab. See + him safe off, Maurice.’ + </p> + <p> + And off he was hunted amid the laughter of the ladies; the manner of all + to one another was so exactly what it had been in the old times. + </p> + <p> + ‘I could hardly help telling him to take care, or Victoria would never let + him out again,’ said Miss Mohun. ‘Poor old fellow, it would have been a + fine chance for him with four of us together.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You can come back with us, Jenny!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I brought my bag in case of accidents.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And we’ll telegraph to Adeline to join us tomorrow,’ said Mr. Mohun, who + seemed to have been seized with a hunger for the sight of his kindred. + </p> + <p> + ‘Telegraph! My dear Maurice, Ada’s nerves would be torn to smithereens by + a telegram without me to open it for her. I’ve a card here to post to her; + but I expect that I must go down tomorrow and fetch her, which will be the + best way, for I have a meeting.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Jenny, I declare you are a caution even to Miss Hacket,’ said Colonel + Reginald, re-entering. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, Ada always was the family pet. Besides, I told you I had a G.F.S. + meeting. Did you get a cab for us; Lily has had quite walking enough.’ + </p> + <p> + The ladies went in a cab, while the gentlemen walked. There was not much + time to spare, and in the compartment into which the first comers threw + themselves, they found both the Hacket sisters installed, and the + gentlemen coming up in haste, nodded and got into a smoking-carriage, on + seeing how theirs was occupied. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, we could have made room,’ said Constance, to whom a gentleman was a + gentleman under whatever circumstances. + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear Miss Dolores’s papa! Is it indeed?’ said Miss Hacket. + </p> + <p> + ‘So wonderfully interesting,’ chimed in Constance. And they both made a + dart at Dolores to kiss her in congratulation, much against her will. + </p> + <p> + The train clattered on, and Lady Merrifield hoped it would hush all other + voices, but neither of the Hackets could refrain from discussing the + trial, and heaping such unmitigated censure on the counsel for the + prisoner, that Miss Mohun felt herself constrained to fly in the face of + all she had said at the hotel, and to maintain the right of even such an + Englishman to be defended, and of his advocate to prevent his conviction + if possible. On which the regular sentiment against becoming lawyers was + produced, and the subject might have been dropped if Constance had not + broken out again, as if she could not leave it. ‘So atrocious, so + abominably insolent, asking if he was unmarried.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Evidently flattered!’ muttered Aunt Jane, between her teeth, and unheard; + but the speed slackened, and Constance’s voice went on, + </p> + <p> + ‘I really thought I should have died of it on the spot. The bare idea of + thinking I could endure such a being.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said Dolores, just as the clatter ceased at a little station. ‘You + know you did walk up and down with him ever so long, and I am sure you + liked him very much.’ + </p> + <p> + An indignant ‘You don’t understand’ was absolutely cut off by an + imperative grasp and hush from Miss Hacket the elder; Aunt Jane was + suffocating with laughter, Lady Merrifield, between that and a certain + shame for womanhood, which made her begin to talk at random about anything + or everything else. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. — NAY. + </h2> + <p> + ‘What a mull they have made of it!’ were Mr. Maurice Mohun’s first words + when he found the compartment free for a tete-a-tete with his brother. + </p> + <p> + ‘All’s well that ends well,’ was the brief reply. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, indeed! Mary would not have thought so.’ To which the colonel had + nothing to say. + </p> + <p> + ‘It serves me out,’ his brother went on presently. ‘I ought to have done + something for that wretched fellow before I went, or, at any rate, have + put Dolly on her guard; but I always shirked the very thought of him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nothing would have kept him out of harm’s way.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It might have kept the child; but she must have been thicker with him + than I ever knew. However I shall have her with me for the future, and in + better hands.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You really mean to take her out?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s what brought me home. She isn’t happy; that is plain from her + letters; and Jane does not know what to make of her, nor Lilias either.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘When were your last letters dated?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The last week in September.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Early days,’ muttered the colonel. + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought it an experiment, you know; but you said so much about Lily’s + girls being patterns, that I thought Jasper Merrifield might have made her + more rational and less flighty, and all that sort of thing; but of course + it was a very different tone from what the child was used to, and you + couldn’t tell what the young barbarians were out of sight.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So I began to think last winter; but I fancy you will find that she and + Lily understand one another a good deal better than they did at first.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought she did not receive my intelligence as a deliverance. I am glad + if she can carry away an affectionate remembrance, but I want to have her + under my own eye.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose that’s all right,’ was the half reluctant reply. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s Phyllis. She is full of good sense, with no nonsense about her or + May, and her girls are downright charming.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very likely; but I say, Maurice, you must not underrate Lilias. She has + gone through a good deal with Dolores, and I believe she has been the + making of her. You’ve had to leave the poor child a good deal to herself + and Fraulein, and, as you see by this affair, she had some ways that made + it hard for Lily to deal with her at first.’ + </p> + <p> + Her father plainly did not like this. ‘There was no harm in the poor + child, but as I should have foreseen, there’s always an atmosphere of + sentiment and ritual and flummery about Lilias, totally different from + what she was used to.’ + </p> + <p> + Colonel Mohun had nearly said, ‘So much the better,’ but turned it into, + ‘I think you will change your opinion.’ + </p> + <p> + Brothers and sisters, and cousins, whatever they may be to the external + world, always remain relatively to each other pretty much as they knew one + another when a single home held them all. The familiar Christian names + seemed to revive the old ways, and it was amusing to see the somewhat + grave and silent colonel treated by his elder brother as the dashing, + heedless boy, needing to be looked after, while his sister Jane remained + the ready helper and counsellor, and Lady Merrifield was still in his eyes + the unpractical, fanciful Lily with an unfortunately suggestive rhyme to + her name. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps it maintained him in this opinion, that when he had answered all + questions about Captain and Mrs. Harry May, and had dilated on their + pretty house in the suburbs of Auckland, his sisters expected him to tell + of the work of the Church among the Maoris and Fijians. He laughed at them + for thinking colonists troubled their heads about natives. + </p> + <p> + ‘I know Phyllis does. One of Harry May’s brothers went out as a + missionary.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Disenchanted and came home again when his wife came into a fortune.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not a bit of it,’ said Aunt Jane. ‘I know him and all about him. He + stayed till his health broke, and now he is one of the most useful men in + the country. He is coming to speak for the S.P.G. at Rockquay, Lily; and + you must come and meet him and his charming wife. They will tell you a + very different story about Harry’s doings.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ allowed Mr. Mohun, ‘there are apparitions of brown niggers done up + as smart as twopence prancing about the house. Perfectly uninteresting, + you know, the savage sophisticated out of his picturesqueness. I made a + point of asking no questions, not knowing what I might be let in for.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then you heard nothing of Mr. Ward, the Melanesian missionary, whom + Phyllis keeps a room for when he comes to New Zealand to recruit.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The man who was convicted of murder on circumstantial evidence! Oh yes. I + heard of him. I believe the labour-traffic agents heartily wish him at + Portland still, he makes the natives so much too sharp.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Aye,’ said the colonel, ‘as long as Britons aren’t slaves they have no + objection to anything but the name for other people.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Wait till you get out there, Regie, and see what they all say about those + lazy fellows—except, of course, ladies and parsons, and a few whom + they’ve bitten, like May.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The few are on the Christian side, of course,’ said Lady Merrifield, with + irony in her tone. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, she was not at all sure that half this colonial prejudice was not + assumed in order to tease her, just as in former times her brother would + make game of her enthusiasms about school children; for he was altogether + returned to his old self, his sister Jane, who had seen the most of him, + testifying that the original Maurice had revived, as never in the course + of his married life. + </p> + <p> + Dolores tried to forget or disbelieve the words she had heard about his + having come to fetch her away, and said no word about them until they had + been unmistakably repeated. Then she felt a sort of despair at the idea of + being separated from her aunt and Mysie, for indeed they had penetrated to + affections deeper than had ever been consciously stirred in her before. + Yet she was old enough to shrink from allowing to her father that she + preferred staying with them to going with him, and it was to her Aunt Jane + that she had recourse. That lady, after returning from her expedition to + bring her sister Adeline to Silverton, was surprised by a timid knock at + the door, and Dolores’s entrance. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, if you please, Aunt Jane, may I come in? I do so want to speak to you + alone. Don’t you think it is a sad pity that I should go away from the + Cambridge examination? Could not you tell my father so?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You want to stay for the Cambridge examination,’ said Aunt Jane, a little + amused at the manner of touching on the subject, though sorry for the + girl. + </p> + <p> + ‘I have been taking great pains under Miss Vincent, and it does seem a + pity to miss it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t think it will make much difference to you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, but I do want to be thoroughly well educated. I meant to go through + them all, like Gillian and Mysie, and I am sure father must wish it too. I + know he meant it when he went out last year.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, he did,’ said Miss Mohun. ‘It was very unlucky that he did not get + any of our later letters.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have tried to tell him that it is all different now, but he does not + seem to care,’ said Dolores. + </p> + <p> + ‘He has quite made up his mind,’ said her aunt. + </p> + <p> + ‘Has he quite?’ said Dolores. ‘I thought perhaps if you talked to him + about the examination and the confirmation too—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But, Dolly, you are not going to a heathen country. Your confirmation + will be as much attended to in New Zealand as here.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, but I should be confirmed with Mysie, and Aunt Lily would read with + me, and help me!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, I see.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do please tell him. Aunt Jane. He heeds what you say more than any one. + Do tell him that the only hope of my being good is if I stay with Aunt + Lily just these few years!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, Dolly, that is what you really mean and care about—not the + Cambridge business.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course it is. Please tell him, Aunt Jane—somehow I can’t—that + I was bad and foolish when I wrote all the letters he had; but now I know + better, and—and—I don’t want to vex him, but I shall be ever + so much better a daughter to him if he will leave me with Aunt Lily, to + learn some of her goodness’—and there were tears in her eyes, for + these months had softened her greatly. + </p> + <p> + ‘My poor Dolly!’ said Aunt Jane, much more tenderly than she generally + spoke. ‘I am very sorry for you. I do think Aunt Lily has been the making + of you, and that it is very hard that you should have to be uprooted from + her, just as you had learnt to value her, I will tell your father so; but + honestly, I do not think it is likely to make him change his mind.’ + </p> + <p> + Miss Mohun sought her brother out the next day, and told him that they had + all been waiting in patience when thinking that his daughter’s residence + at Silverton was an unsuccessful experiment. The explosion she had + predicted had come, and Dolores had been a different creature ever since, + owing to Lady Merrifield’s management of her in the crisis; and she added + that the girl was most unwilling to leave her aunt, and that she herself + thought it would be much better to leave her for a few years to the + advantages of her present training, where her affections had been gained. + Mr. Mohun could not see it in the same light. The intimacy with Constance + Hacket was in his eyes a folly, consequent on his sister’s passion for + Sunday schools and charities; and Jane, being infected with the like + ardour, he disregarded her explanations. The underhand correspondence + could not have been carried on without great blindness and carelessness, + or, at least, injudiciousness, on Lady Merrifield’s part, and there was no + denying that she had trusted to a sense of honour that was nonexistent. + Nor did he appreciate Jane’s argument that the conquest of the heart and + will had thus been far more thoroughly gained than it would have been by + constant thwarting and watching. It was hard to forgive such an exposure + as had taken place, or to believe that it had not been brought about by + unjustifiable errors, more especially as Lady Merrifield was the first to + accuse herself of them. Moreover, he had become sensible of a strong + natural yearning for the presence of his only child, and he had been so + much struck with his sister Phyllis’s family that he sincerely believed + himself consulting the girl’s best interests. He was by no means an + irreligious or ungodly man, but he had always thought his sister Lilias + more or less of an enthusiast, and he did not wish to see Dolores the + same. Perhaps, indeed, the poor child’s manifest clinging to her aunt and + cousins made him all the more resolute to remove her before her affection + should be entirely weaned from himself. + </p> + <p> + He made his headquarters at Silverton, and during the next two months + modified his opinions so far as to confess to his sister Jane that Lilias + was a much more sensible woman than he had believed her, and had her + children well in hand. He even allowed that Dolores was improved, and owed + much to her kindness; and when the first sting of the exposure was over, + he could see that the treatment had been far from injudicious as regarded + the girl’s own character. He was even glad that warm love and friendship + had grown up towards her aunt and cousins; but all this left his purpose + unchanged; although, after the first, nothing was said about it, Dolores + tried to forget it, and hoped that the sight of her going on well and + peaceably would convince him of the inexpediency of disturbing her. She + could not even mention it to Mysie, lest the dread should become a reality + by being uttered. So no more passed on the subject till it became + necessary to take her outfit in hand, and he also wished to take her to + Beechcroft, that the old family home which he regarded with fresh + tenderness might be impressed on her memory. + </p> + <p> + Then, though she never durst directly oppose the fate which he destined + for her, she surprised him by a violent burst of tears and sobbing, and an + entreaty that he would not take her away from Aunt Lily and Mysie a moment + sooner than could be helped. + </p> + <p> + She clung to everything, even to the guinea-pigs, and she was the first in + the Easter holidays to beg for the ‘Thorn Fortress.’ Indeed, Mysie was a + little shocked at her grief, as disloyal and unfilial. ‘One ought not to + mind going anywhere with one’s father,’ she said; ‘we all thought it a + great honour for Phyllis and Alethea.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They are grown up!’ said Dolores, ‘and Aunt Lily does get into one so! + Oh, don’t say there’s Aunt Phyllis. I hate the very name of her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She must be nice,’ said Mysie, ‘Whenever the ‘grown-ups’ are pleased with + me they say I am getting like her, as if it was the best thing one could + be.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But I don’t want Mysie old and grown up, I want my Mysie now, as you are!—And + you’ll forget and leave off writing, like Maude Sefton.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Never!’ cried Mysie. ‘Eight across the world you will always be my own + twin cousin.’ + </p> + <p> + The wishes of the girl were so far fulfilled that Lady Merrifield took her + to London to provide her outfit, and Mysie accompanied them. A room and + its dressing-room received the three at old Mrs. Merrifield’s, and the two + cousins thought their close quarters ineffably precious. + </p> + <p> + Mysie was introduced to Maude Sefton, who seemed entirely unconscious of + her treachery to friendship. ‘One had so little time, and couldn’t always + be writing,’ she said, when Dolores reproached her; ‘exercises were enough + to tire out one’s hand!’ + </p> + <p> + They also drank tea with Lady Phyllis Devereux and her governess. Fly + could not pour forth questions and reminiscences fast enough about all the + beloved animals at Silverton, not forgetting the little G.F.S. nursemaid, + for whom she had actually made an apron in her plain-work lessons. + Moreover, she deemed Dolores’s fate most enviable, to be going off with + her father to strange countries, away from lessons, and masters, and + towns. It would be almost as good as Leila on the island. + </p> + <p> + As to the Beechcroft visit, Mr. and Mrs. Mohun collected all the brothers + and sisters in England there for a week, and still Mysie and Dolores were + allowed to be together, squeezed into a corner of Lady Merrifield’s room. + It was high summer, bright and glowing, and so dry, and even the + invalidish sisters, Lady Henry Gray and Miss Adeline Mohun could not + object to the sitting out on the lawn, among the dragonflies, as in days + of yore. + </p> + <p> + Much of old thought and feeling was then and there taken up again, and it + was on one of the last evenings of the visit that Mr. Mohun, walking up + and down the alley with Lady Merrifield, said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, Lily, I think my determination to take Dolly away was hasty. I + cannot leave her now, but if I had understood all that I see at present, I + should have been both content and grateful to have her among your + children. I am afraid I have been ungracious.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I never thought so, Maurice. It is quite right that she should be with + you, and Phyllis will do every-thing for her much better than I.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor child! I believe she is very sorry to go,’ said Mr. Mohun; ‘but, at + any rate, she will remember Silverton as, I hope, a lasting influence on + her life.’ + </p> + <p> + Dolores truly believed that so it would be, and that her aunt’s guidance + would be always looked back upon as the turning-point of her life. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is my own fault,’ she said, as on the last night she clung tearfully + to Lady Merrifield; ‘if I had behaved better I might have gone on just + like one of your own.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You will still be in my heart like one of my own, dear child,’ said Lady + Merrifield. ‘We know the way in which we all can hold together as one; + keep to that, and the distance apart will matter the less.’ + </p> + <p> + And as they watched Dolores and her father driven away to the station the + next morning, Jane Mohun laid her hand on her sister’s arm and said, ‘You + thought you had made a great failure. Lily, but is not the other side of a + failure often a success?’ + </p> + <p> + By-and-by came letters from Dolores. She seemed after the first to have + enjoyed her journey, for, as she wrote to Lady Merrifield, in a letter, + very private, and all to her own self, ‘Father was so very good and kind + to me, I don’t know how to tell you. It was as if a little bit of mother + had got into him, and now I am here I think I shall like the Mays. Indeed, + I am trying to remember your advice, and not beginning by hating everybody + and thinking who they are not. Aunt Phyllis is very nice indeed, and + sometimes her eyes and mouth get like Mysie’s, and her voice is just + exactly yours. Only she is plump and roundabout, not a dear, tall, + graceful figure like my White Lily Aunt. Please don’t call it nonsense, + for indeed I mean it, and Aunt Phyllis does like your photograph so much. + I have the whole group hung up in my room, and you over it, and I wish you + all good morning every day, for I never, never, as long as I live, shall + love anybody like you and Mysie.’ + </p> + <p> + THE END. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s The Two Sides of the Shield, by Charlotte M. 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