The Long Vacation

by Charlotte M. Yonge

  But I can't conceive, in this very hot weather, How I'm ever to bring all these people together. T. HOOD.

  It was not a day when any one could afford to be upset. It was chieflyspent in welcoming arrivals or in rushing about: on the part of Lanceand Gerald in freshly rehearsing each performer, in superintending theirstage arrangements, reviewing the dresses, and preparing for one grandfinal rehearsal; and in the multifarious occupations and anxieties, andabove all in the music, Gerald did really forget, or only now and thenrecollect, that a nightmare was hanging on him, and that his little Monaneed not shrink from him in maidenly shyness, but that he might wellreturn her pretty appealing look of confidence.

  The only quiet place in the town apparently was Clement Underwood'sroom, for even Cherry had been whirled off, at first to arrange herown pictures and drawings; and then her wonderful touch made such adifference in the whole appearance of the stall, and her dainty deviceswere so graceful and effective, that Gillian and Mysie implored her tocome and tell them what to do with theirs, where they were strugglingwith cushions, shawls, and bags, with the somewhat futile assistance ofMr. Armine Brownlow and Captain Armytage, whenever the latter could bespared from the theatrical arrangements, where, as he said, it wasa case of parmi les borgnes--for his small experience with theWills-of-the-Wisp made him valuable.

  The stalls were each in what was supposed to represent by turns aHighland bothie or a cave. The art stall was a cave, that the back(really a tool-house) might serve the photographers, and the front wasdecorated with handsome bits of rock and spar, even ammonites. PoorFergus could not recover his horror and contempt when his collection ofspecimens, named and arranged, was very nearly seized upon to fillup interstices, and he was infinitely indebted to Mrs. Grinstead forfinding a place where their scientific merits could be appreciatedwithout letting his dirty stones, as Valetta called them, disturb thegeneral effect.

  "And my fern-gardens! Oh, Mrs. Grinstead," cried Mysie, "please don'tsend them away to the flower place which Miss Simmonds and the gardenersare making like a nursery garden! They'll snub my poor dear pterises."

  "Certainly we'll make the most of your pterises. Look here. There'san elegant doll, let her lead the family party to survey them. That'sright. Oh no, not that giantess! There's a dainty little Dutch lady."

  "Charming. Oh! and here's her boy in a sailor's dress."

  "He is big enough to be her husband, my dear. You had better observeproportions, and put that family nearer the eye."

  "Those dolls!" cried Valetta, "they were our despair."

  "Make them tell a story, don't you see. Where's that fat red cushion?"

  "Oh, that cushion! I put it out of sight because it is such a monster."

  "Yes; it is just like brick-dust enlivened by half-boiled cauliflowers!Never mind, it will be all the better background. Now, I saw a majesticlady reposing somewhere. There, let her sit against it. Oh, she mustn'tflop over. Here, that match-box, is it? I pity the person deluded enoughto use it! Prop her up with it. Now then, let us have a presentationof ladies--she's a governor's wife in the colonies, you see. Never mindcostumes, they may be queer. All that will stand or kneel--that's right.Those that can only sit must hide behind, like poor Marie Antoinette'sladies on the giggling occasion."

  So she went on, full of fun, which made the work doubly delightfulto the girls, who darted about while she put the finishing touches,transforming the draperies from the aspect of a rag-and-bone shop, asJasper had called it, to a wonderful quaint and pretty fairy bower,backed by the Indian scenes sent by Mr. and Mrs. Bernard Underwood, andthat other lovely one of Primrose's pasture. There the merry musicallaugh of her youth was to be heard, as General Mohun came out withLancelot to make a raid, order the whole party to come and eat luncheonat Beechcroft Cottage, and not let Mrs. Grinstead come out again.

  "Oh, but I must finish up Bernard's clay costume figures. Look atthe expression of that delightful dollie! I'm sure he is watching thekhitmutgars.

  'Above on tallest trees remote Green Ayahs perched alone; And all night long the Mussah moaned In melancholy tone.'

  Oh, don't you know Lear's poem? Can't we illustrate it?"

  "Cherry, Cherry, you'll be half dead to-morrow."

  "Well, if I am, this is the real fun. I shan't see the destruction."

  Lance had her arm in his grip to take her over the bridge over the wall,when up rushed Kitty Varley.

  "Oh, if Mrs. Grinstead would come and look at our stall and set itright! Miss Vanderkist gave us hopes."

  "Perhaps--"

  "Now, Cherry, don't you know that you are not to be knocked up! Thereare the Travises going to bring unlimited Vanderkists."

  "Oh yes, I know; but there's renovation in breaths from Vale Leston, andI really am of some use here." Her voice really had a gay ring in it."It is such fun too! Where's Gerald?"

  "Having a smoke with the buccaneer captain. Oh, Miss Mohun, here's mysister, so enamoured of the bazaar I could hardly get her in."

  "And oh! she is so clever and delightful. She has made our stall themost enchanting place," cried Primrose, dancing round. "Mamma, you mustcome and have it all explained to you."

  "The very sight is supposed to be worth a shilling extra," said GeneralMohun, while Lady Merrifield and Miss Mohun, taking possession of her,hoped she was not tired; and Gillian, who had been wont to considerher as her private property, began to reprove her sisters for havingengrossed her while she herself was occupied in helping the Hendersonswith their art stall.

  "The truth is," said Lance, "that this is my sister's first bazaar, andso dear is the work to the female mind, that she can't help being suckedinto the vortex."

  "Is it really?" demanded Mysie, in a voice that made Mrs. Grinsteadlaugh and say--

  "Such is my woeful lack of experience."

  "We have fallen on a bazaar wherever we went," said Lady Merrifield.

  "But this is our first grown-up one, mamma," said Valetta. "There wasonly a sale of work before."

  They all laughed, and Lance said--

  "To Stoneborough they seem like revenues--at least sales of work, for Ican't say I understand the distinction."

  "Recurring brigandages," said General Mohun.

  "Ah! Uncle Reggie has never forgotten his getting a Noah's ark in araffle," said Mysie.

  So went the merry talk, while one and another came in at Miss Mohun'sverandah windows to be sustained with food and rest, and then dartedforth again to renew their labours until the evening, Miss Mohun flyingabout everywhere on all sorts of needs, and her brother the Generalwaiting by the dining-room to do the duties of hospitality to the straysof the families who dropped in, chattering and laughing, and exhausted.

  Lady Merrifield was authorized to detain Mrs. Grinstead to the lastmoment possible to either, and they fell into a talk on the moralityof bazaars, which, as Lady Merrifield said, had been a worry to hereverywhere, while Geraldine had been out of their reach; since theUnderwoods had done everything without begging, and Clement disapprovedof them without the most urgent need; but, as Lance had said, hiswife had grown up to them, and had gone through all the stages fromdelighting, acquiescing, and being bored, and they had so advancedsince their early days, from being simply sales to the grand period ofornaments, costumes, and anything to attract.

  "Clement consents," said Geraldine; "as, first, it is not a church,and then, though it does seem absurd to think that singing through themurdered Tempest should be aiding the cause of the Church, yet anythingto keep our children to learning faith and truth is worthy work."

  "Alas, it is working against the stream! How things are changed whenschool was our romance and our domain."

  "Yes, you should hear Lance tell the story of his sister-in-law Ethel,how she began at Cocksmoor, with seven children and fifteen shillings,and thought her fortune made when she got ten pounds a year for theschool-mistress; and now it is all Mrs. Rivers ca
n do to keep out theSchool-board, because they had not a separate room for the hat-pegs!"

  "We never had those struggles. We had enough to do to live at all in ourdear old home days, except that my brother always taught Sunday classes.But anyway, this is very amusing. Those young people's characters comeout so much. Ah, Gerald, what is it?"

  For Gerald was coming up to the verandah with a very pretty, dark-eyed,modest-looking girl in a sailor hat, who shrank back as he said--

  "I am come to ask for some luncheon for my--my Mona. She has had nothingto eat all day, and we still have the grand recognition scene to come."

  At which the girl blushed so furiously that the notion crossed Geraldinethat he must have been flirting with the poor little tobacconist'sdaughter; but Lady Merrifield was exclaiming that he too had had nothingto eat, and General Mohun came forth to draw them into the dining-room,where he helped Ludmilla to cold lamb, salad, etc., and she sat downat Gerald's signal, very timidly, so that she gave the idea of onlypartaking because she was afraid to refuse.

  Gerald ate hurriedly and nervously, and drank claret cup. He said theywere getting on famously, his uncle's chief strength being expendedin drawing out the voice of the buccaneer captain, and mitigating theboatswain. Where were the little boys? Happily disposed of. Little Felixhad gone through his part, and then Fergus had carried him andAdrian off together to Clipstone to see his animals, antediluvian andotherwise.

  Then in rushed Gillian, followed by Dolores.

  "Oh, mother!" cried Gillian, "there's a fresh instalment of pots andpans come in, such horrid things some of them! There's a statue interra-cotta, half as large as life, of the Dirty Boy. Geraldine, do praycome and see what can be done with him. Kalliope is in utter despair,for they come from Craydon's, and to offend them would be fatal."

  "Kalliope and the Dirty Boy," said Mrs. Grinstead, laughing. "A dreadfulconjunction; I must go and see if it is possible to establish the linebetween the sublime and the ridiculous."

  "Shall I ask your nephew's leave to let you go," said Lady Merrifield,"after all the orders I have received?"

  "Oh, no--" she began, but Gerald had jumped up.

  "I'll steer you over the drawbridge, Cherie, if go you must. Yes,"--tothe young ladies--"I appreciate your needs. Nobody has the same facultyin her fingers as this aunt of mine. Come along, Mona, it is Mrs.Henderson's stall, you know."

  Ludmilla came, chiefly because she was afraid to be left, and LadyMerrifield could not but come too, meeting on the way Anna, come toimplore help in arranging the Dirty Boy, before Captain Hendersonknocked his head off, as he was much disposed to do.

  Gillian had bounded on before with a handful of sandwiches, but Dolorestarried behind, having let the General help her to the leg of a chicken,which she seemed in no haste to dissect. Her uncle went off on someother call before she had finished, eating and drinking with the bittersauce of reflection on the fleeting nature of young men's attentions andeven confidences, and how easily everything was overthrown at sight ofa pretty face, especially in the half-and-half class. She had only justcome out into the verandah, wearily to return to the preparations, whichhad lost whatever taste they had for her, when she saw Gerald Underwoodspringing over the partition wall. Her impulse was to escape him, but itwas too late; he came eagerly up to her, saying--

  "She is safe with Mrs. Henderson. I am to go back for her when our duetcomes on."

  Dolores did not want to lower herself by showing jealousy or offence,but she could not help turning decidedly away, saying--

  "I am wanted."

  "Are you? I wanted to tell you why I am so interested in her. Dolores,can you hear me now?--she is my sister."

  "Your sister!" in utter amaze.

  "Every one says they see it in the colour of our eyes."

  "Every one"--she seemed able to do nothing but repeat his words.

  "Well, my uncle Lancelot, and--and my mother. No one else knows yet.They want to spare my aunt till this concern is over."

  "But how can it be?"

  "It is a horrid business altogether!" he said, taking her down to theunfrequented parts of the lower end of the garden, where they could walkup and down hidden by the bushes and shrubs. "You knew that my fatherwas an artist and musician, who fled from over patronage."

  "I think I have heard so."

  "He married a singing-woman, and she grew tired of him, and of me,deserted and divorced him in Chicago, when I was ten months old. He wasthe dearest, most devoted of fathers, till he and I were devoured by theIndians. If they had completed their operations on my scalp, it wouldhave been all the better for me. Instead of which Travis picked meup, brought me home, and they made me as much of an heir of all thetraditions as nature would permit, all ignoring that not only was myfather Bohemian ingrain, but that my mother was--in short--one of thegipsies of civilization. They never expected to hear of her again, butbehold, the rapturous discovery has taken place. She recognised Lance,the only one of the family she had ever seen before, and then the voiceof blood--more truly the voice of L s. d.--exerted itself."

  "How was it she did not find you out before?"

  "My father seems to have concealed his full name; I remember his beingcalled Tom Wood. She married in her own line after casting him off, andthis pretty little thing is her child--the only tolerable part of it."

  "But she cannot have any claim on you," said Dolores, with a moreshocked look and tone than the words conveyed.

  "Not she--in reason; but the worst of it is, Dolores, that the wretchedwoman avers that she deceived my father, and had an old rascally tyrantof an Italian husband, who might have been alive when she married."

  "Gerald!"

  Dolores stood still and looked at him with her eyes opened in horror.

  "Yes, you may well say Gerald. 'Tis the only name I have a right to ifthis is true."

  "But you are still yourself," and she held out her hand.

  He did not take it, however, only saying--

  "You know what this means?"

  "Of course I do, but that does not alter you--yourself in yourself."

  "If you say that, Dolores, it will only alter me to make me--more--moremyself."

  She held out her hand again, and this time he did take it and press it,but he started, dropped it, and said--

  "It is not fair."

  "Oh yes, it is. I know what it means," she repeated, "and it makes nodifference," and this time it was she who took his hand.

  "It means that unless this marriage is disproved, or the man's deathproved, I am an outcast, dependent on myself, instead of the curleddarling the Grinsteads--blessings on them!--have brought me up."

  "I don't know whether I don't like you better so," exclaimed she,looking into his clear eyes and fine open face, full of resolution, notof shame.

  "While you say so--" He broke off. "Yes, thus I can bear it better. Theestate is almost an oppression to me. The Bohemian nature is in me, Isuppose. I had rather carve out life for myself than have the landlordbusiness loaded on my shoulders. Clement and Lance will make the modelparson and squire far better than I. 'The Inspector's Tour' was asuccess--between that and the Underwood music there's no fear but Ishall get an independent career."

  "Oh! that is noble! You will be much more than your old self--as yousaid."

  "The breaking of Cherie's heart is all that I care about," said he. "Toher I was comfort, almost compensation for those brothers. I don'tknow how--" He paused. "We'll let her alone till all this is over; so,Dolores, not one word to any one."

  "No, no, no!" she exclaimed. "I will--I will be true to you througheverything, Gerald; I will wait till you have seen your way, and beproud of you through all."

  "Then I can bear it--I have my incentive," he said. "First, you see, Imust try to rescue my sister. I do not think it will be hard, for thematernal heart seems to be denied to that woman. Then proofs must besought, and according as they are found or not--"

  Loud calls of "Gerald" and "Mr. Underwood" began to resound. Hefi
nished--

  "Must be _the_ future."

  "_Our_ future," repeated Dolores.

  CHAPTER XX. -- FRENCH LEAVE