The Pillars of the House; Or, Under Wode, Under Rode, Vol. 1 (of 2)

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The Pillars of the House; Or, Under Wode, Under Rode, Vol. 1 (of 2) Page 14

by Charlotte M. Yonge


  CHAPTER XIV.

  WHAT IT MAY LEAD TO.

  'I never was so berhymed since I was an Irish rat, which I can scarcely remember.'--_As You Like It_.

  'Dim memories haunt the child, Of lives in other beings led-- Other, and yet the same.'--_Keble_.

  In the autumn Alda made a visit at home. She had, as usual, gone withMr. and Mrs. Underwood to their German baths, and had there fallen inwith a merry set of her intimates in London, who had persuaded her tojoin them in an expedition to the Tyrol, which lasted till the end ofSeptember. On her return, she was dropped at Bexley, where her sisterswere greatly edified by her sketch-book, a perfect journal in cleverscenes and groups, like the 'Voyage en zig-zag.' Two of the gentlemenseemed always in waiting on the graceful outline that did duty forAlda; and indeed, she gave Wilmet to understand that only the skillthat played them off one against the other had averted an offer fromeach, hundreds of miles from home, when it would have been so veryinconvenient! Every morning Wilmet considered how her dinner wouldappear if one or both should suddenly drop in to pursue his courtship.

  Even Felix, though he had pooh-poohed the mysterious whisper fromhis sisters, was startled at the apparition of a picturesque figure;in Tyrolese hat, green knickerbockers, belt, knapsack, loose velvetcoat, and fair moustache, marching full into the shop; and while thecustomers who were making it a rendezvous gazed in doubt betweengamekeepers and stage banditti, holding out a hand too fair and daintyfor either character, and exclaiming, 'How are you, Mr. Froggatt!Hollo, Felix!'

  Mr. Froggatt was amazed beyond measure, and it was only on hearing thering of the mirthful laugh that he exclaimed, 'Mr. Edgar! This is analteration! You will find the young ladies up-stairs.'

  Felix was disengaged at the moment, and could take him through theparlour, too glad to have him there at all to utter the faintest wishthat he would have rung at the private door; and he ushered him intothe drawing-room with the words, 'Here's the artist who has begun withhimself;' and then retreated.

  'Edgar! oh, you wonderful boy!' cried happy Geraldine, as he threw hisarms round her; while Alda asked:

  'Is that the _thing_ now, Edgar?'

  'Quite _comifo_,' he answered. 'Ha, little ones, have you forgotten me?'

  'Stella says you're the clarionet in the brass band,' said Bernard.'What have you got in that pack?'

  'Munitions of war!' he answered, unstrapping his bag, and producingpackets of French bon-bons, bought on his way home, from the sketchingtour Mr. Renville always made with sundry of his pupils in earlyautumn. 'Gobble them up, little mice, before the cat comes home.'

  Stella paused with a dutiful 'May I?' and Cherry had to interferebetween the little maiden's scruples, Bernard's omnivorous inclination,and Theodore's terror at any new article of food; while Alda and Edgarexchanged eager question and answer:

  'You've been at home. You've seen them all?'

  'I dined there on Sunday--might do so any day; they can't do withoutme, that's a fact.'

  'Nor me, I imagine,' said Alda. 'I suppose I am to go back with you?'

  'So Madam proposed; but the fact is, that Molly has done uncommonlywell without you this time.'

  'What do you mean?' asked Alda, sharply.

  'What think you of a friend of Cherry?'

  'I haven't got any friends.'

  'Think again! Not the great convert, the Cacique of all the Mexicos?'

  'Ferdinand Travis! You don't mean it?'

  '_I_ don't; but the elders mean it, and the youngers will do it.'

  'Do tell me! I can't understand,' cried Alda, much excited. 'We havenever met him.'

  'The uncle or father--which?'

  'The uncle.'

  'Well, the uncle has been in England, and fraternized with our governorat Peter Brown's; there was a banqueting all round, and his nephew wascarried at his chariot wheels. If I am not much mistaken, gold andtimber jingled to silver and bullock-hide, and concluded a prospectiveunion in the persons of my nephew and my daughter. I'm sorry. I havelong been persuaded that a very small effort on the part of ourrespected Blunderbore might have redeemed the family fortunes in theperson of Polly.'

  'How could you think of anything so absurd?' said Alda. 'As if my unclewould consent!'

  'If Tom has any sentiment, it is for my father and the name ofUnderwood,' said Edgar. 'You remember he was sorely disappointed thatFelix would not step into my shoes.'

  'And very angry and hurt,' said Alda, 'as well he might be.'

  'Yes; but that anger proved the vastness of his good intentions.Besides there's something about our old giant--steadiness and breeding,I believe--that uniformly makes Tom knock under to him; and there's apeculiar affinity of good sense between him and Marilda, that ought tohave ripened under favourable circumstances.'

  'And is he really cut out?' said Alda. 'I don't know how to believethis! How far has it gone?'

  'Hanger on and oyster in love,' promptly answered Edgar. 'HonestPolly has the most comical look of anxious coyness on her jolly face,and holds her elbows squarer than ever; and a few paces off standsMontezuma, magnificent and melancholic;' and Edgar assumed the posture.

  'Melancholy, no wonder,' said the conscious beauty; 'Edgar, he must beover head and ears in debt.'

  'So it struck me; but he must have managed it uncommon quietly, forthey call him the Mexican Muff; he's hand and glove with all theirholinesses up at Clement's shop, and the wildest orgie he has beendetected at was their magic-lantern.'

  'Then it is real goodness that draws them together!' exclaimed Cherry,looking up from her presidency over the comfits.

  'Goodness and a balance,' said Edgar.

  'Did you know,' said Cherry, 'that as soon as he came of age, he paidthe Insurance all the money for the Fortinbras Arms? The agents werequite overwhelmed, and wanted to put it in the Pursuivant.'

  She was cut short by the return of Wilmet and Angela, accompanied byMiss Knevett. The effect of Edgar's appearance was startling. Alicegave a little scream of surprise, Angela crept behind her sisters, andWilmet stood for a moment like a stag at gaze; then, as he said, 'Well,Mettie, are you going to send for the police?' exclaimed, 'You, Edgar!What a figure you have made of yourself!'

  'See how our eldest crushes me!' said Edgar. 'Such a face as yours,Mettie, ought not to be wedded to the commonplace.'

  'I suppose it is like German artists,' said Wilmet, trying to resignherself.

  'It is such a beautiful becoming dress,' whispered Alice to Geraldine;while Edgar rattled on--'No wonder there is a deterioration in tastefrom living in the very tents of the Philistines. Why, Cherry, how doyou bear existence surrounded by such colours as these?'

  'The paper?' asked Wilmet, surprised. 'It is rather a large pattern, tobe sure.'

  'I call it cruelty to animals to shut Cherry up among the eternalabortive efforts of that gilded trellis to close upon those bluedahlias, crimson lilacs, and laburnums growing upwards, tied with hugeragged magenta ribbons. They would wear out my brain.'

  'Well, I think when you remember our old paper, you might be thankful!'said Wilmet.

  'Precisely what I do, and am not thankful. What our paper may have beenin its earlier stages of existence, I am not prepared to say; but sinceI can remember, that hateful thing, the pattern, could only be tracedby curious researches in dark corners, and the wall presented every_nuance_ of purplish salmon or warm apricot.'

  'Dear old paper!' cried Cherry. 'Yes; wasn't it soft, deepening off inclouds and bars, sunsets and storm-clouds, to make stories about?'

  'Where it was most faded and grimy,' said Wilmet. 'It is allaffectation not to be glad to have clean walls.'

  'Clean!' cried Edgar, in horror. 'Defend me from the clean! Bare, bald,and frigid, with hard lines breaking up and frittering your background.If walls are ornamented at all, it should not be in a poor materiallike paper, but rich silk or woollen tapestry hangings.'

  'We couldn't have tapestry now,' said Alice, in a puzzled voice.


  'Then,

  '"Comrades, take warning by my fall, And have it strong or not at all."'

  'Not walls,' laughed Cherry.

  'Let them be of natural, or, at any rate, uniform tint; and cover themwith your own designs of some character and purpose, not patternsbought by the yard.'

  'Oh! I see what you would be at,' said Wilmet quaintly. 'You arebewailing the loss of your great Man Friday.'

  'Achilles, I beg your pardon.'

  'He never would come out,' said Angela; 'he came through the whitewashafter the measles.'

  'I wonder what the present inhabitants think of him,' said Cherry. 'Onecomfort is, if he is a bogy now, they may show him some day as an earlyeffort of Sir Edgar Underwood, President of the Royal Academy.'

  'Oh dear! I must go!' cried Alice. 'I only came to fetch a pattern forAunt Maria, and she is waiting for it; but you are all so delightfulhere.'

  'What pretty little thing have you picked up there?' asked Edgar, asshe went.

  'Have we not told you of Miss Pearson's niece?'

  'You should take her likeness, Cherry, as a relief from the classicallysevere.'

  Cherry opened her portfolio, and showed two or three water-coloureddrawings of the graceful little head and piquant features. Edgarcriticised, and promised a lesson; and the sitter, nothing loth, thoughrather coy, was caught. She blushed and smiled, and took exception atlittle personalities, and laughed her forgiveness, going through a playof countenance very perplexing to the pupil, but much relished by themaster, as he called up the pout and smile by turns, and played withher little airs.

  He took Alda back on Monday, but promised to come home for Christmas,and kept his word. Perhaps the Renville _wirthschaft_ afforded lesscontrast with home than did the Underwood _menage_; and, in spite ofthe Philistine furniture, the rooms in the High Street agreed betterwith his tastes than the old house in St. Oswald's Buildings. He wasabove objecting to the shop; and whereas Clement carefully avoidedthe public precincts, he was often there, hunting up books, readingnewspapers, gossiping with Mr. Froggatt or with Redstone, and alwaysensuring himself a welcome by the free bright sweetness of his mannerand his amusing talk.

  It was a prosperous winter; Felix, as partner and acknowledged editor,was in a more comfortable position both as to income and authority.Other matters were going well. Fulbert, to the general surprise,turned out a capital letter-writer, and sent home excellent accountsof himself, working heartily in a situation in the post-office, whichMr. Audley's Somerville interest had managed to secure for him.Moreover, all close scholarships had not been abolished, and Felix'sopportunities in the newspaper line had enabled him to discover one atSt. Cadoc's, a small college at Cambridge, to be competed for by thenatives of the county where Clement had fortunately been born. A letterto the parish clerk of Vale Leston, to ask for the baptismal registerof Edward Clement Underwood, produced a reply from a well-rememberedold Abednego Tripp, who declared himself 'horned and rejoiced' athearing from Master Felix, and at being able to do anything for one ofthe Reverend Mr. Edward's sons. The competition was not very severe;Clement obtained the scholarship, and therewith his maintenance forthree years to come; and he was at the same time able to exercise abit of patronage on his sisters' behalf, more gratifying to his ownfeelings than theirs. Mr. Fulmort's unmarried sisters had lived inthe country with a former governess, until on the death of the elder,the survivor decided on employing her very considerable fortune inestablishing a school where girls of small means might be preparedfor becoming first-rate governesses, with special openings for thedaughters of poor clergy and of missionaries.

  One of the first families thought of was that of the favouritechorister; so Angela, now ten years old, was nominated at once,to the relief of Wilmet, who did not think her romping intimacieswith the girls at Miss Pearson's very desirable. Moreover, after acorrespondence between Miss Fulmort and Miss Lyveson, it was decidedthat Robina should be transferred to the new school at Brompton withher sister, partly by way of infusing a trustworthy element, and partlythat her studies might be perfected by London masters. Robina, whoseallegiance to Miss Lyveson was most devoted, was greatly grieved, butshe was a reasonable, womanly little being, aware that governess-shipwas her profession, and resolute to qualify herself; so though shecame home with tell-tale spots under her eyes, she replied to allcondolences with, 'I know it's right, what must be must;' and herspirits rose when Lance came home, bound only to return during theholidays on two or three special days when his voice was indispensableat the cathedral.

  Edgar and he together kept the house in continual merriment, so thatthe sober pillars of the house found themselves carried along, theyknew not whither.

  'I have had a serious application,' said Felix one evening. 'A solemnknock came to the office door, and an anxious voice came in--"Please,brother, I want to speak to you." There stood the little Star! Ithought at least she had broken the chandelier, but no such thing. Itwas, "Please, brother, mayn't I have a birth-day?"'

  'Poor little darling!' cried some voices.

  'What could have put it into her head?' said Wilmet.

  'She said all little girls had birth-days, and Ellen Bruce had toldAngel all about the dance in honour of hers.'

  'Ah!' said Wilmet, 'we'll have Angel out of the way of that kind ofchatter.'

  'Poor little maid! of course I had to quench her,' said Felix, 'as faras her own day was concerned. I told her more about it than she hadever heard, but then she took me aback by saying Father was happy, andshe thought he would like her to be happy.'

  'You didn't consent!' exclaimed Wilmet.

  'I represented that it was Theodore's birth-day as well, and thatstrangers would make him miserable. She was really very good, and Iwant you just to consider whether we could not do something--of courseon a different day--but in the course of the holidays, by way of treat.Surely you could invite some of Miss Pearson's pupils.'

  'I don't like to begin, Felix,' said Wilmet; 'there would bereciprocity, and no one knows where it might lead to.'

  'A few white muslin frocks--eh, W. W.? I think we could stand them.'

  'That is not all I mean,' said Wilmet; 'it is the sort of style ofthing. It would be all very well to have a few little girls here, butthey would all ask us again, and I could not answer for what mighthappen at their homes.'

  'It is out!' said Edgar. 'Now we know the sort of style of thing itmight lead to. Minerva under a mistletoe bough.'

  'Hurrah!' burst out Lance, in convulsions of mirth, which infectedFelix and Cherry; while Wilmet, as simple as she was discreet, blushedup to the tips of her ears, and tried to defend herself.

  'They tell me of doings at their parties that are what I should notlike for our little girls, and I don't think you would, Felix.'

  'Forfeits, to wit?' asked Edgar. 'Or cards, or waltzing. You may aswell be explicit, Mettie.'

  'No, no,' said Felix, 'Mettie shall not be teased: she is right in themain.' But his _tone_ was that he always used when her prudence was toomuch for him.

  'And the family refinement is to be secured by sitting in ashes allChristmas,' said Edgar. 'Slightly unchristian, it strikes me.'

  'But,' continued Felix, 'out of these domestic ashes, we _must_ get upsome sport for the children. I stand committed to Stella.'

  'Shall I get Bill Harewood, and do Box and Cox?' suggested Lance.

  'Might we not get up something they could take part in themselves?'said Cherry; 'Cinderella, or some such little play?--Edgar, you knowhow to manage such things.'

  'Wilmet doesn't know where they would lead to,' gravely responded Edgar.

  'To Lance's going off with a circus,' said Felix.

  'I always had a great mind to do so,' responded Lance. 'To sing comicsongs on one leg on a spotted horse's back, and go about day and nightin a yellow van drawn by elephants--I call that life!'

  'Secure a berth for me as scene-painter!' cried Edgar. 'See how I'ddraw a house by the very outline of Mazeppa outside!'

 
'And Felix will print all our advertisements gratis!'

  'Oh!' broke in Cherry; 'I have a notion. Couldn't we make a play of theconjuror in disguise? It is Dr. Knowall in German popular tales, Robinthe Conjuror in English.'

  'Nothing foolish, I hope?' seriously asked Wilmet.

  'Oh no. Don't you recollect? The story is, that a set of thieves steala jewel, a man comes shamming conjuror and offering to find it for theowner, intending to trust to chance, and feast at her expense as longas he is not found out.'

  'I remember!' exclaimed Lance; 'you used to tell us the story. Somebodysuspects him, and brings a creature shut up in a covered dish to askhim to tell what it was--and it happens to be a robin; so when he criesout, "Oh, poor Robin!" thinking himself done for, out hops the bird,and the enemy is sold.'

  'Yes; and then he counts his dinners every day, and the thieves whohave come to look on think he is counting them, and throw themselves onhis mercy.'

  'It has capabilities,' said Edgar.

  'But the moral!' said Wilmet.

  'What! Not the lesson against dealing with conjurors?' demanded Edgar.'I'll undertake to arm your pupils against spirit-rapping for ever.'

  'In that point of view--' said Wilmet doubtfully.

  'In that point of view,' said Felix, laughing, 'it has my vote.'

  'I don't like deception to succeed,' said Wilmet; 'but at least there'snone of the worst sort of nonsense.'

  Lance leapt up and performed a _pas seul_, insisting that Bill Harewoodmust come and be a robber; and Edgar and Cherry instantly had theirheads together as playwrights and managers.

  'Never mind, Wilmet,' said Felix at their bed-room doors that night.'Remember, Father never was a man for all work and no play.'

  'I don't mind play, but I don't know what this may lead to;' then,as Felix laughed merrily at the repetition, she followed him intohis room, saying, 'I mean, I have no trust in Edgar's discretion, orLance's either, and all sorts of things may be put into the children'sheads.'

  'You can't keep children's heads a blank,' said Felix; 'and Edgar'sgood taste ought to be trusted in his own home, for his own sisters.Even you might stretch a few points to keep him happy and occupied withCherry. Besides, I believe we do live a duller life than can be reallygood for any one. It can't be right to shut up all these young thingsall their holidays without any pleasure.'

  'I thought,' said Wilmet, her eyes growing moist, 'it was pleasureenough to be all at home together.'

  'So it is, to staid old fogies like you and me,' said Felix, kissingher; 'but the young ones want a lark now and then, and I confess Ishould be immensely disappointed if this fun didn't come off. No, no,W. W., I can't have you an old cat; you are much too young andpretty.'

  The levity of this conclusion shocked Wilmet beyond remonstrance. WasFelix falling from his height of superiority, or was her strictnesswearisome?

  Meantime, Geraldine's brain was ringing with doggrel rhymes, andwhirling with stage contrivances, in the delight of doing somethingwith Edgar, whether versifying or drawing; and as Felix said, to keephim happy at home for Christmas was no small gain, even though itbrought a painful realisation that their feast was not his feast.

  Geraldine suffered in silence, for a word from her was always putdown by some tender jest, avowing as much inferiority in goodness assuperiority in intellect. As to Clement, Edgar's sport was to startlehim with jokes, dilemmas, and irreverences, and then to declinediscussion on the ground that he never argued with _sisters_, and thatClement would understand when he went to Cambridge. Otherwise, thesubject was avoided at home; but Edgar consorted a good deal with Mr.Ryder, calling him the only person in the town, except Cherry, whoknew the use of a tongue; and one day, when Felix was assisting hisold master in a search through old newspapers in the reading-room, Mr.Ryder said, 'By-the-by, your brother Edgar has a good deal more of thetalk of the day than you can be prepared for.'

  'I am afraid so, sir,' said Felix; 'but he does not put it forth muchat home.'

  'So I hoped. It would have startled your father a good deal; but Ibelieve myself acting in the spirit of his wishes in letting him talkout his crudities.'

  'Thank you, sir,' said Felix, not quite knowing how to take this.

  'It is a phase to be passed through,' said Mr. Ryder. 'Indeed, a gooddeal of it is fashion and vanity.'

  'Mr. Audley thinks so,' replied Felix. 'He said he thought poor Edgardid not think enough to have real doubt, but that he considered otherpeople's a dispensation from attending to the subject at all.'

  'Exactly,' said Mr. Ryder, 'except so far as repeating what he hascaught up seems to him knowing, and according to the spirit of thetime, fit to dazzle us down here. Whatever may deepen him will probablychange all that--I do not say into what you or your father would wish;but what is jargon now will pass away into something more real, forbetter or--'

  'For worse?' asked Felix anxiously, as he paused.

  'I do not say so,' returned Mr. Ryder. 'Perhaps what I chiefly wishedat this moment was to clear myself in your eyes of treachery to yourfather.'

  'No, sir, that I never could suspect.'

  But the conversation might well leave heaviness behind it. Was it cometo Edgar's views being such as to startle Mr. Ryder! who, for thatmatter, had of late shown much less laxity of opinion than in hisyounger and more argumentative days; and there was little comfort insupposing that these were not real honest doubts at all, only apologiesfor general carelessness and irreligion.

  Yet with even this trouble in the recess of the heart, this was themerriest winter the Underwood household had known since their father'stime.

  Edgar chose to frame the play upon the Italian form of the story, wherethe impostor is a starveling poet, nicknamed Signor Topo, or MasterRatton, because his poverty had brought him to live in a hay-loft. Thischaracter he assumed, and no doubt it fitted him better than either theEnglish cobbler or the German doctor; besides, as he said, sham courtcostume is always the easiest to contrive: but Cherry was by no meansprepared to find the Rat-like poet the secret admirer of a daughter ofthe Serene Highness who owned the jewel.

  'Such a monstrous interpolation,' quoth Geraldine.

  'Interpolations are the beauty of the thing. It would be as flat as apancake without.'

  'And Wilmet won't like it.'

  'Wilmet must be brought to the level of ordinary human nature.'

  'I don't feel as if this were using her well. You know she expresslyconsented to this "because there was no nonsense in it."'

  '_I.e._ if it had been Cinderella, it would have been improper; if theSleeping Beauty, highly scandalous. Eh, Cherie?'

  'You know I think Mettie _does_ carry her scruples pretty far,' saidGeraldine, trying not to laugh, 'but I won't be a party to cheatingher; and if this young princess is to come in, she must be told of it.'

  'Or she will take out her Gorgon's head in the midst, and petrifyher subjects! Maybe it will be safest to prepare her. You see, suchdiscipline reigns here, that a poor Bohemian like me doesn't know whereto be.'

  Accordingly, Edgar said in his airy way, 'O Mettie, by-the-by, we haveput in a part for little Miss Knevett.'

  'Indeed! I thought it was to be all among ourselves. Have you spoken toher?'

  'Of course; and she is in the ecstatic state of preparation of spanglesand coronets.'

  'I wish you had spoken before. It would be hard to disappoint her now.What is she to be?'

  'Nothing less than heroine. There must be some sort of conventionalcatastrophe, or the whole concern falls flat.'

  'I don't see why it should not fall flat,' said Wilmet, with a soberair that drove Cherry into an uncontrollable convulsion of laughter;'it would amuse the children just as well.'

  'The children of six, maybe,' said Edgar gravely, 'but hardly thechildren of sixteen. Have you no mercy on them, my venerable sister?'

  Wilmet had arrived at such a pass of resignation as to perceive that'a fuss' on her part might be more mischievous than any 'nonsense' inwhich Edgar was
likely to indulge in public, especially with Geraldineas his coadjutor. She tried to obtain some reassurance that there was'nothing more silly than needful in this play of yours.'

  'No, indeed. There is just a little mock courtship; but as that is thecase with nine-tenths of the stories in the world, I don't think yougain much by turning it out.'

  'I did hope for once in a way we ourselves might be quit of it.'

  'It is hard on you,' said Cherry, smiling; 'but it would make a greatuproar to disturb all now.'

  'At any rate, I have found the old receipt for tea-cakes,' respondedWilmet, whose mind was almost as much preoccupied with theentertainment of the body as her sister's with that of the mind.

  She had relented so far as to invite two little girls and their widowedmother, from whom there was no danger of reciprocities; Lance hadprevailed to have Will Harewood as one of the robbers; and the MissPearsons were coming to behold their niece; besides which, Stellahaving imparted the great secret to Mr. Froggatt, Felix found thegood old gentleman and his wife burning to have an invitation. Thusthe party would be the largest Wilmet had ever contemplated; and themysteries of tea and supper were so congenial to her housewifely soul,that she did not distress herself about the frequent rehearsals in MissPearson's empty school-room, the transformations of garments under theneedles of Cherry and Robina, nor even the wildness and ecstacy ofall the children from Lance downwards, all bursting with secrets, andletting them out at every corner of their grinning mouths.

  It must soon be over, and Felix seemed to be enjoying it thoroughly;and Wilmet could tolerate a great deal when either Felix or Aldaenjoyed. He was much too busy with Christmas accounts to undertake anypart that needed learning; but he was pressed into the service as acourtier, only with a dispensation from either speaking or rehearsing;while Wilmet utterly scouted any idea of taking any share in the drama,having enough to do in her own character.

  And in that character she was left alone to entertain the guests, foreven Cherry was in request as prompter and assistant dresser--nay,with the assistance of Theodore's accordion, formed the whole band ofmusicians at the ball which opened the performance, and which requiredthe entire _corps dramatique_. Robina, as the Elderly Princess,demonstratively dropped her bracelet, with a ruby about as big as apigeon's egg (being the stopper of a scent-bottle), and after thedancers had taken some trouble not to step on it, they retired, and itwas stolen by the gang of robbers, cloaked up to their corked eyebrowsand moustaches.

  Then appeared in his loft--supplied with straw culled from packages atthe printing-house--the poet, well got up in his knickerbockers andvelvet smoking-cap, scarf and guitar, soliloquising in burlesque rhymeon his fallen state and hopeless admiration, and looking very handsomeand disconsolate, until startled by the cry behind the scenes--

  'O yes! O yes! O yes! By command of her Highness! Lost, stolen, or strayed, Gone to the dogs or mislaid, Her Highness's splendid ruby. Whoso finds it--wit or booby, Tinker, tailor, soldier, lord-- Let him ask what he will, he shall have his reward.'

  Thereupon the poet, communicating his designs in a stage soliloquy,disguised himself in a tow wig and beard, and a railway rug turned upwith yellow calico; and the scene shifting to the palace, he introducedhimself to the Elderly Princess as the greatest of spiritualists--sogreat, that--

  'Detective police are an ignorant fable; No detective can equal a walnut-wood table.'

  But he required as a medium a maiden fair and lovely, but with aheart as yet untouched, otherwise the spirits might be offended. Theonly lady who was available was, of course, the youthful princessFiordespina, whose alarm and reluctance had been contrived so as to behighly flattering to the disguised poet.

  The dinner scenes, at which the robbers presented themselves in turn,and imagined that they heard themselves counted, went off in due order;also the test, when the courtiers tried to pose the spiritualist withmaking him divine what they brought him in a covered dish, and weredisconcerted by his sighing out,

  'Alas! alas! see envy batten On the unhappy Master Ratton!'

  while the rat leaped out from beneath the lid!

  Then came the avowal by the robber: but the conclusion was so farvaried, that the jewel having been judiciously hidden, the poet madeuse of his voice and his guitar to throw the Lady Fiordespina into amesmeric sleep before the court, and then to cause a table to rap outthe letters, which she interpreted so as to lead to the spot.

  It was the prettiest scene of all, his music and song were so graceful;and in spite of some suppressed giggling, the attitude and countenanceof Fiordespina were so very pretty in her trance. Nothing more was leftsave the restoration of the ruby, the claiming of the reward, and thefinal tableau, in which Ratton and Fiordespina, in their native goodmien, had their hands joined by the benignant Elderly Princess; while,to the equal amusement and confusion of all, good old Mrs. Froggattfairly burst out crying with excitement and admiration!

  Mrs. Vincent, the young widow, was likewise enchanted, and so was MissMaria Pearson; but Wilmet could not quite fathom the tone of the elderand graver sister, or decide whether it were her own dissatisfactionthat made her think Miss Pearson had not expected to see such a _role_bestowed upon her niece.

  The doors between the drawing-room and the theatre were opened again;the boys handed round negus and lemonade; and Felix, standing overCherry, said, 'Lance's circus speculation would not be a bad one.There's plenty of dramatic talent in the family.'

  'Did you like it, Felix?'

  'I could tell exactly which parts were yours and which Edgar's,' wasthe ambiguous answer, as he turned to secure the Princess Fiordespinafor the dance that was to crown the performance.

  'O Mr. Underwood! Oh yes, thank you! but--'

  'Is it part of the programme that wizard and medium should dancetogether?'

  'Oh no! Only it seems so funny to think of your dancing.'

  'What, you thought a stationer must be stationary?'

  'O Mr. Underwood, what a shocking pun!' and she was led off sparklingwith pretty laughter; while the Conjuror, muttering,

  'The gouty oak began to move And flounder into hornpipes,'

  turned graciously on little Susie Vincent, and scared as much as heelevated her, by claiming her as his partner.

  Will Harewood, dashing across the room, and looking earnestly with hisbold and now flushed face up to Wilmet, blurted out, 'Miss Underwood,now please, let me dance with you.'

  'Thank you,' she said graciously; 'but I believe I must play for them.'

  'I'll do that,' said Clement, over her head.

  'The Dead March in Saul?' murmured Edgar.

  'Nonsense!' broke out Mrs. Vincent, starting up; 'what am I good forbut to play?'

  So Clement, who thought he had found an escape, was reduced to thenecessity of asking the other little Vincent; and Wilmet's smile ofconsent so elated Bill Harewood, that he could not help flying acrossto that very happy and well-matched pair, the Elderly Princess andFirst Robber, to tell them, 'I've got her.'

  'Who?'

  'Why, your sister.'

  'You've never been and made up to Wilmet!' said Lance, as if thisinstance of valour crowned his merits.

  'Yes, I have; and she will. You see there ain't another gentleman outof the family except the old Froggy, and the little one has got him.Well, I always wished beyond anything to dance with Miss Underwood!'

  'Did you?' said Robina. 'I never should have thought of that.'

  'Most likely not,' said Bill; 'but she is the most beautiful woman Iever did or shall see in all my life;' and he flew back to her side.

  'Is she?' said Robina, altogether amazed.

  'Well, perhaps,' said Lance; 'you know one might go a long way withoutfinding any one so handsome.'

  'Then I wish people wouldn't say so. It seems making our Wilmet common,like any other girl, to care for her being pretty.'

  'So Froggy's dancing with Stella,' observed Lance. 'I decla
re I'll tryif Mrs. Frog won't stand up with me. Some one ought. You'll not mindwaiting, Bobbie. It is not often one has the chance to dance with a caplike that.'

  Bobbie resigned herself amicably; and Lance, with his bright arch face,made his bow and half polite, half saucy addresses to Mrs. Froggatt inher magnificent head-gear, making her laugh herself almost to tearsagain as she declined. He held the Miss Pearsons in greater awe, andventured on neither; so that Robina had him for Sir Roger de Coverley,where the sole contretemps arose from Angel and Bear being in suchboisterous spirits that Wilmet decreed that they must not be partnersagain. Of the rest, some had a good deal of dancing-master experience;Mrs. Harewood's impromptu merry-makings had afforded plenty of practiceto the two choristers; even Clement had had a certain school-feasttraining; and Felix, with a good ear, ready eye, and natural easeof movement, acquitted himself to Miss Knevett's eagerly expressedadmiration.

  'Take care, Master Ratton will be jealous,' said Edgar, as he claimedher for the next dance, a quadrille.

  'Jealous! oh no! Some people one never thinks of complimenting.'

  Cherry caught the words, and wondered what they meant.

  A few more dances, and then came Wilmet's anxiously contrived supper.

  'I say,' observed Will Harewood to Lance, 'why can't we have thingslike this at home?'

  ''Tisn't their nature to,' judiciously responded Lance.

  'This cream is quite up to the grub we get after a crack let-off inthe Close,' added Will; for requisitions for their voices at privateconcerts had made the choir connoisseurs in the relics of feasts.

  'Better, I should say,' returned Lance. 'Mettie doesn't make it ofsoap, or arsenic, or verdigris, like old Twopenny.'

  'What! you don't mean that she made it herself?'

  'Of course! who else should?'

  'My eyes! And to see her looking like that!' Then, with a deep sigh,'If I could only book her for my wife on the spot!'

  Whence it may be inferred, that Stella's birth-day party was not only abrilliant success, but might, in Wilmet's phrase, 'lead to something.'All it seemed to have led to at present was a discovery on the part ofthe good Miss Pearsons, that the household they had been wont to pityas small orphan children, now contained three fine young men.

  At least Geraldine connected this with the desire they expressed thatAlice might enjoy the same opportunities as Robina of giving heracquirements a final polish, up to diploma pitch. A correspondencecommenced, resulting in Miss Knevett being engaged as teacher,being remunerated by lessons in languages and accomplishments. Thearrangement gave universal satisfaction; Cherry could not detect anyregret on the part of Felix; Alice would still spend her holidayswith her aunts; and the sense that her departure was near made theintercourse between the two houses more frequent and familiar than ithad ever yet been.

  One evening Cherry, while looking up a quotation for Felix inSouthey's '_Doctor_,' lit on his quaint theory of the human soulhaving previously migrated through successive stages of vegetable andanimal life, and still retaining something characteristic from eachtransmigration. Her brothers were a good deal tickled with the idea;and Lance exclaimed, 'I know who must have been rhubarb, queen-wasp,and a hen-harrier.'

  'Oh, that's too bad!' cried Robina.

  'Why a hen-harrier?' asked Felix, recognising, like almost all theothers.

  'One of the birds of prey where the female is bigger than her mate,'drily observed Edgar.

  'Besides,' said Cherry, 'recollect the hen-harrier's countenance inpictures, with beady eyes, and a puffed supercilious smile about thebeak.'

  'Why, that's Lady Price!' chimed in Alice, making the discovery at last.

  Lengthily and gravely Edgar uttered the words, 'Puzzle-monkey, prayingmantis, sacred stork, howler.'

  Lance and Robin roared with merriment, and after one glance atClement's half virtuous, half offended countenance, Felix and Cherryfell into like convulsions; while Alice exclaimed, 'But who is it?'and Angel shouted the sufficiently evident answer, 'Clement, oh! thehowler, the black preaching monkey in a natural surplice!'

  'I can't think how you do it!' exclaimed Alice.

  'I object to the mantis,' Cherry struggled to say. 'Nasty hypocriticalcreature that eats things up.'

  'Praying for its living, eh, Cherry?' said wicked Edgar. 'If you hadever seen the long thin animal, with head back, hands joined, and piousattitude, you couldn't doubt.'

  And as he spoke he sketched his mischievous likeness, at whichthe mirth grew more furious; while Cherry, always the most easilyexcited, uttered in a strangled voice, 'A parsnip, a barn-door hen, adilapidated Guernsey cow, an old mother whale.'

  'O Cherry, Cherry, you've immortalized yourself!' shouted Lance. 'Howdid you hit off the parsnip? the very thing that had stumped me.'

  'The colour, and the odd sort of sweetness,' said Cherry.

  'Won't we have fun with it when I go back!' cried Lance.--'Not tell?Nonsense! Why, no one will enjoy it like Mother Harewood herself.'

  'Only don't say I made it. There, Edgar has got one.'

  'Touch-me-not balsam, blister-fly, bantam-cock (full strut), blackterrier.'

  He did not caricature this time except with the muscles of his face,and with these he contrived to put on four different aspects, eachso exactly like Mr. Mowbray Smith that not even Alice required theproclamation of the name; and Wilmet gravely said, 'I do not think thisis a proper sort of game. It must be ill-natured or irreverent.'

  'That depends,' said Geraldine, now thoroughly in the swing.--'Here!Hawthornden apple-tree, stickleback, goldfinch, beaver.'

  'The hardy Norseman's house of yore Was on the foaming wave,'

  sang out Lance, recalling Theodore's substitute for Felix's name.

  'Exactly like--figures, tastes, and all,' said Edgar, scanning Felix'sclear, bright, fresh face, glossy hair, and rather short figure, atonce trim and sturdy. 'The goldfinch hit him off exactly, but I don'tsee the force of the apple-tree.'

  'You would,' said Cherry, 'if you were properly acquainted with ourthree trees and their individualities. The Hawthornden is a resolutelooking fellow, but it indulges in the loveliest pink and whiteblossoms, and waxen, delicate, peachy fruit.'

  'Uncommonly sour! Thank you, Cherry,' said Felix.

  'Not in a pie,' suggested Alice.

  'Properly treated and sweetened, eh?' asked he, smiling on her.

  'But why is Felix like a stickleback?' said Angela.

  'Don't you know?' said Cherry; 'a beautiful bright little fish, and thegood male one swims up and down taking care of the nest.'

  'I do like the beaver,' allowed Wilmet. 'It always was my favouritebeast.'

  'It hits off the respectable householder element,' added Edgar. 'Threeflaps of his broad tail rule beaverdom like Jupiter's nod.'

  'I have one,' interposed Robina.--'Bella-donna lily, working bee,menura--'

  'Hold hard!' called Lance; 'is a menura fish, flesh, or fowl?'

  'Fowl: the lyre-tailed pheasant, that makes a shelter for its nest withits own tail.'

  'Decided liar tale,' muttered Edgar.

  'Go on, Bobbie,' Felix encouraged her. 'The pheasant suits both thetwins as well as the bella-donna. Any more?'

  'Perhaps the leading stag of the herd.'

  'Don't make us like that proud, cowardly, tyrannical beast,' exclaimedWilmet.

  'I have seen you look exactly like one,' said Geraldine. 'That and thepheasant both give the notion of your neck.'

  'Such a set of trumpery gaudy things!' grumbled Wilmet. 'Nothing butthe bee is tolerable.'

  'I did think of a speckled Hamburg hen, and a nice quiet she-goat,'said Robina; 'but they are all dowdy, and would not suit Alda.'

  'There's something in the theory,' said Edgar. 'That bella-donnaapproves itself perfectly--so delicate and stately, and yet soessentially unpoetical.'

  'That Mettie takes as a compliment,' said Felix, 'only she would ratherhave been a potato, or a cabbage.'

  'Now,' said Cherry, 'you will
all know--bell-heather, the grasshopper,the lark, and the squirrel.'

  'Is this the lark's crest, or the squirrel's tail?' said Felix, givingan elder brother's pull to the boy's highest wave of hair.

  'Or the grasshopper's leap?' cried Lance, springing on him for a boutof buffeting and skirmishing; in the midst of which Alice was heardwondering how the riddles, as she thought them, were either made orguessed.

  'They come,' said Geraldine. 'I am only afraid we shall fall into atrick of making them for everybody.'

  'I wonder what you would make for me.'

  Geraldine had it on her tongue's end that Alice would be difficult, forwant of anything distinctive; but Felix and Edgar were both jottingsomething down, and Robina was beforehand with either--'Scarletpimpernel, tortoiseshell butterfly, budgerigar, marmoset.'

  No one answered, for Felix had pushed a slip of paper over to Alice,on which she read--'"Forget-me-not, ladybird, linnet, kitten." I don'tthink I ever saw a linnet. Isn't it a little brown bird?'

  'With a rich glow of red, and a beautiful song,' said Felix, smiling;and the red glowed redder on her cheek, as she said, laughing, 'Kittenfor mischief, eh? For shame, Mr. Underwood!--What, another! Dear me, Ishall not know myself!'

  This had been slipped into her hand; and Cherry suspected that herexclamation had been a mistake of which she was conscious, as thecolour deepened on her already blushing cheeks, and her eyes werecast down, while a demure smile played on her lips. The incautiousexclamation had betrayed her, and the young ones clamoured to hearEdgar's view of her transmigration; but there was a little coy struggleof 'Oh no, she wouldn't, and she couldn't.'

  'She smiled and blushed, and oft did say Her pretty oath by yea or nay.'

  And in the midst came the message that the maid was arrived to takeher home; and this being a cross stiff personage, who might never bekept waiting, she had to hurry away; and had no sooner gone than Angelaburst out with, 'Here it is! I've got it! Listen to it: "Say, Lady--"'

  'Stay, Angela,' interrupted Felix. 'You have no business with that.'

  'Not Edgar's fun!' she exclaimed. 'Why, where is he?'

  'Surely he is not going home with her!' said Wilmet in some dismay.

  'Oh, but it is such fun,' went on Angela, 'only I can't make it out.You read it, Lance.'

  'Did she give it you?' said Felix.

  'No, I whipped it up when she dropped it. There's something aboutRatton in it.'

  Felix quietly took the paper out of her hand, folded it, and put itinto an envelope. 'You take it back to her the first thing to-morrow,'he said. 'Now go to bed.'

  Angela durst not oppose that tone, so unusually serious andauthoritative; but she contrived to prolong her good-nights, and theputting away of her goods, with a kind of half droll, half sullenresignation; and just as Wilmet was hurrying her off, Edgar returned.He always spoilt Angela a little, and she sprang to him with a kind ofdroll pout. 'You'll not be cross, Edgar. You'll let us hear Alice'stransmigrations. Look! here's Felix bottled them up in an envelope, andwon't let us peep at them! But you'll let me hear. You won't order meoff to bed.'

  Cherry fancied she saw a disconcerted look on his face when he saw theenvelope held up to him; but if so, it instantly gave place to themischievous entertainment of defeating a lesson on discretion.--'Theheads of the family must assert themselves sometimes, my dear, evenabout nothing,' he said consolingly.

  'Indeed,' said Wilmet, bristling in defence of Felix, 'of course weknew it was nothing. It was only very ill-mannered and wrong of Angelato go prying into what was not meant to be shown.'

  'I'm sure,' said Edgar most ungratefully, 'it might be posted on thechurch door for what I care, except for its intrinsic vileness.'

  'Oh, let's have it! let's have it!' burst out Lance and Robina, who hadbeen burning with curiosity all the time.

  'Don't let us have them murdered, whatever they are,' said Edgar,taking them into his own hand. 'Pity the sorrows of a poor wretchseduced into one of your horrid _jeux d'esprit_--a lady's excuse forfishing for compliments that sound more than they mean. Here goes,then:--

  'Say, Lady, what existence past Thine essence hath enfolded; What humble antecedent cast Thy present self hath moulded.

  'The hawthorn bush, with blossom white Veiling her branches pricking; The painted lady, fluttering light, The rash pursuer tricking.

  'Grass paraquit, who loves to sit In clustering rows and chat on; Caressing, purring, traitor kit, Fatal to Master Ratton.

  'There, ladies and gentlemen, I hope you are satisfied,' he concluded,letting his performance float into the fire; 'the metaphors, to say theleast, are startling, but that is the fault of the game.'

  'I don't enter into it all,' said Cherry.

  'Not likely another of the grass paraquits would, my dear,' said Edgar.

  'And it is exactly what Robin made her,' said Angela; 'both that andthe butterfly; and Felix, the kitten. You didn't borrow of course. Howfunny!'

  'But I didn't make her inconstant,' said Robin; 'that is not fair.'

  'Not when you made her a butterfly, and the shepherd's weather-glasstoo!'

  'I never thought of that, only their being both bright, dark, sparklingthings; and Felix has the forget-me-not, by way of antidote.'

  'I do not think such things are wise,' pronounced Wilmet. 'And,by-the-by, Edgar, it has always been the custom that nobody should walkhome with Alice. Miss Pearson would not like it, and it would make atalk.'

  Edgar laughed. 'Dear W. W., let it not trouble you! What it may leadto is a bugbear to you. You can't think how much younger and moreagreeable you will be when you have learnt that there can be passagesthat lead to nothing.'

  Geraldine went to bed uncomfortable and perplexed. Before she wasdressed in the morning, Alice darted in. 'Cherry, I'm so vexed; Idropped that paper. Do you think it is here?'

  'No; Angel picked it up, and Edgar read us the verses, and then threwthem into the fire.'

  'Burnt them!'

  'Yes; he said the worst of such games was that they force one to paycompliments that may be taken to mean more than they do.'

  Cherry spoke under a stern sense of virtue doing a service to Alice;and when the quick answer came, 'He didn't say that, I'm sure it wasWilmet,' she asseverated, 'Indeed he did. I don't confuse in that way.It is a very good warning not to dwell on what gentlemen may say inmere play.'

  'Who told you I did?' said Alice sharply. 'You've no business to saysuch things!'

  Happily there was an interruption. Cherry felt as if she had had ataste of the claws; but she feared she had been malicious, and she waspenitent.

 

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