CHAPTER XVI.
THE WINTER OF DISCONTENT.
'Peace, brother, be not exquisite, To cast the fashion of uncertain evils; For, grant they be so, while they rest unknown, What need a man forestall his date of grief?' _Milton._
Wilmet was so devoted to Alda and her hopes and fears, that she letFelix escape with less reproof than usual, for the cold that satheavily upon him after the last day's chill. He did not give way to it.There might have been some temptation to sit over the fire if Geraldinehad been alone there; but Alda, when Wilmet was out of reach, engrossedCherry's ears with descriptions of her feelings, and cravings forsympathy in her suspense, treating every other subject as futile, andthe interruption of the children's lessons as an insult. No one mighttalk of anybody but Ferdinand; and Cherry did not wonder that Felixlooked wearied and harassed, and always betrayed some anxiety to comefirst into possession of the morning post. One day, nearly a fortnightafter his visit to London, he called Wilmet away from the breakfasttable into the sitting-room: 'Wilmet,' he said, 'I must go and see MissPearson before school hours.'
'You! Is there anything the matter with Alice?' asked Wilmet, startledat his tone.
'Had they--had you--any notion of anything between her and Edgar?'
'No! Miss Pearson has taken to saying, "My dear, your brothers arequite grown into young men," and I thought she did not like the play.'
'Ah! that play! It threw them together!'
'Is it really so? I suppose nothing is too foolish and provoking forEdgar!'
'The fact of admiration is not wonderful,' said Felix, rather in atone of defence; 'but the worst of it is, that he has been trying tocommunicate with her through those poor girls at school.'
Wilmet's horror was surpassing; and when she found that he had knownit all this fortnight, she was so indignant, that to his reply that itwas not fair to leave both parties the chance of acting honourably, shereplied with scorn for his weakness in expecting anything from Edgar,and exposing the children to the chance of expulsion, which might bea lasting blight, such as merely in thought put her into a perfectagony. Nevertheless, angry and excited as she was, she flew at himwhen he gave her the letters, and was off to Miss Pearson's--'Go therewithout breakfast, in the sleet, sitting and still with that bad coldnot half gone!' and she dragged him back reluctantly to the other room,where, ignominiously ordering off Bernard and Stella to finish theirstir-about elsewhere, she insisted on his breakfasting while she toldthe story. She was far too loyal to blame him except _tete-a-tete_, butshe burst on him now and then.
'You are not eating, Felix!'
'A cup of tea, then, please, Cherry. No one can swallow stir-about inhot haste but Wilmet herself.' He spoke good-humouredly, but with aforce upon himself that Cherry detected; and she further saw that hetook nothing but that one cup and a fragment of bread, and then hurriedoff, saying that he must catch Miss Pearson for the little girls' sake.
The letters he had left were Robina's and another enfolding itcontaining these words:
Dear Sir,
According to my promise, I have refrained from opening this letter, though I own that the discovery of the purpose for which free correspondence was asked, has been no small amazement to me. In the first shock, I will not trust myself to say more, until after consultation with my brother; but you shall hear from me again respecting your sisters.
I remain, your obedient servant, B. M. FULMORT.
The letter within was--
My Dear Felix,
It has all come out. There is a dreadful uproar, and nobody will believe me. If only Miss Lyveson was here! This was the way. Edgar came yesterday and took us for a long walk in Kensington Gardens, and afterwards I saw Angela going towards Alice Knevett's room; and as we are not allowed to run into other people's bedrooms, I stopped her and put her in mind of what you said; but she began to cry and struggle with me, and Alice came out, and made a fuss to get the note Angel had for her, till I got into a passion, and spoke so loud that Miss Fennimore came out upon us. Angel did not know what she was about by that time, and cried, saying that I was unkind, and was hurting her; and Alice took her part, accusing me of tyrannizing and being jealous, so that I faced round and told all on the spot. Miss Fennimore took us all straight down to Miss Fulmort, and it was a dreadful business. They are frightfully angry with us all, and me the most, for having told you instead of them. They cannot understand the difference between you and any common brother. They think I have not told the whole truth, and it is very hard. Nobody ever distrusted me before. We are just living on sufferance till Mr. Fulmort comes to see about it, and then I think we shall be sent away. I hope so, for I know my own dear Miss Lyveson will believe me and take me back to justice and confidence. Here the girls are as angry with me for telling as the ladies are for not telling; they have no idea of such loyalty and love as we had at Catsacre. There is a report that Miss Pearson has been sent for. If we are sent home with her, it will be a horrid shame and injustice; but I shall not be able to be sorry one bit, for I know you will stand by me.
Dear, dear brother Felix, Your affectionate Sister, BOBBIE.
When the three sisters had made out all that could be understood,Geraldine owned herself less amazed than Wilmet; and Alda laughedat both for not being aware that Edgar was a universal flirt. Allthat surprised her was his having let it proceed to such dangerousextremities; but of course that was the girl's own fault--he would giveit up when it came to the point.
'Why should you expect Edgar to be more inconstant than Ferdinand?'asked Cherry.
Both twins turned on her, and told her she was a child and knew nothingabout it--their favourite way of annihilating her; and then Alda, inher excitement, walked with Wilmet to the school, leaving Cherry, asusual, to wash up the breakfast things. She felt a conviction thatall this accounted for the weary oppressed look, broken by occasionalstarts of vivacity, which ever since Felix's day in London had beenlaid to the score of the cold he had brought home.
She was glad she was still alone, when Felix looked in for a momentto say, 'Miss Maria goes up by the 11.30 train. I am going to send aletter by her, and I think she will save Robin. Angel is so mere achild, that it matters less.'
'How can they all be so unjust?'
'They have not had time to know the child.'
'I did not mean Robina, but you.'
'I don't mind that,' he said, with a smile, 'though I am glad there isone lady who does not scold me;' and he bent down to kiss her.
'Did the Miss Pearsons?'
'They allowed that I meant to act for the best, and you know what thatmeans. However,' he added,' they are earnest to save the little girls,which is more to the purpose. Wilmet or I would have gone up, but MissMaria thinks she can do better than either, and I believe they aremore likely to trust an old schoolmistress, who is the injured partybesides. I must write my letter. Shall I help you into the other room?'
'No, thank you; I have the lessons here, for they tease Alda. If youwould only send Theodore to me as you go.'
'Does Alda never help you?'
'Only by criticising my French pronunciation. She is much too restless.O Felix, what a cough! You have made your throat worse.'
'It is only this black east wind.'
'You ought to stay upstairs and be taken care of. Can't you, and letRedstone call if you are wanted?'
'I _am_ wanted. It is quite as warm in the office as here, when thedoor is shut. What I want is, only to be twenty years older. Good-bye.'
Cherry's ponderings were divided b
etween that sigh and the possiblesighs of the wind if that door were not shut, until her own door wasopened by Felix's hand, to admit a little figure still in petticoats,with the loose flaxen curls, tottering feet, limp white fingers,and vacant blue eyes, whom she daily put through a few exercises totrain his almost useless fingers and tongue. The sight of this, Aldadeclared, made her ill, though the little boy was as docile as he washelpless; but it was quite true that to nerves and ears not inured fromthe first, Theodore's humming and his concertina were a trial fromtheir perpetuity.
Late that evening came a message to beg Mr. and Miss Underwood wouldstep up; and they stepped, though the east wind was blacker thanever. They found that in great tribulation Miss Maria had broughtAlice Knevett home, and sent her to bed all tears and exhaustion, butthat Robina and Angela were forgiven--a word so offensive to Felix asrelating to the former, that he sorely lamented that prudence forbadetheir removal, but was somewhat consoled by a letter that Miss Mariabrought him from the Vicar of St. Matthew's, who had had a privateinvestigation of the whole subject. He wrote to Felix that his sisterwas new to the management of the girls, and was a good deal annoyed atthe secrecy observed towards herself, not making full allowance forRobina's exceptional circumstances; but that, for his own part, he wasconvinced of the girl's genuine uprightness and unselfish forbearance;and though he feared her position must be unpleasant just now, hethought it would be for the good of all if she had the patience tolive it down, and earn the good opinion he was sure she deserved.Miss Maria reported that Miss Fennimore had been brought round by hisopinion, though Miss Fulmort remained persuaded that Robina had 'comeover him' in some way; and while yielding to his stringent desire that,as he said, 'one of the worthiest of her girls should not be unjustlyexpelled,' only let the child herself know that she was tolerated inconsideration of her youth, her orphanhood, and her relationship toClement. Poor Robin! No one could help grieving for the tempest thathad fallen on her guiltless head, and hope that all would result inher final good; but the sorrows of an absent school-girl could hardlyoccupy even her dearest friends, in the full and present crisis of twolove affairs.
For Edgar and Major Knevett both arrived, the lover as dispassionate asthe father was the reverse. Edgar did, however, as he had undertaken,rise to the position. He joked at it a little in private, to theannoyance and perplexity of Cherry, and even of Felix; but he wasperfectly steady in maintaining his perfect right to address MissKnevett, in avowing his engagement, and in standing by it.
To Major Knevett, the affair appeared outrageous impudence on thepart of a beggarly young painter out of a country bookseller's shop,encouraged by the egregious folly of the aunts. What was said ofclergyman's sons and good old family went for absolutely nothing; andEdgar's quiet assurance of success in his profession was scoffed atwith incredulity not altogether unpardonable. In the encounter thatFelix had the misfortune to witness, since it took place in his ownoffice-parlour, he could not help thinking that Edgar, with his perfecttemper, unfailing courtesy, calm self-respect, and steady sense ofhonour towards the young lady, showed himself the true gentleman incontrast with the swaggering little Major, who seemed to expect thathe could bluster the young man out of his presumption, and was quiteunprepared for Edgar's cool analysis of his threats. But instead of,like Tom Underwood, cooling down into moderation and kindness so soonas his bolt was shot, the finding it fall short only chafed him themore, and rendered him the more inveterate against all conciliation.
There was an appeal all round to Felix, but he was not so practicableas the universal compliments to his good sense showed to be expected.He had expressed his opinion that it was a rash engagement, hithertoimproperly carried on; but he could not be brought to advise hisbrother to break it off on his side while the lady held to it on hers.It might be best to give it up by mutual consent; but as long as oneparty was bound, so was the other; and he thoroughly sided with Edgarin not being threatened out of it whilst Alice persisted. Still moreflatly did he refuse Miss Pearson's entreaty that he would see thewilful girl, and persuade her how hopeless was her resistance, andhow little prospect of the attachment being prosperous. Nothing butdespair and perplexity could have prompted the good aunts to try sucha resource, but they were at their wits' end. They really loved theirniece, and they dreaded the tender mercies of her father, who hadindeed petted Alice as a young child, but had made her mother suffergreatly from his temper. If she would yield, they hoped to procure forher a home at York, with their brother's widow, and to save her froma residence in Jersey with the step-mother; but Alice, upheld by asecret commerce of notes ingeniously conveyed, felt herself a heroineof constancy, and kept up her spirits by little irritations to whoevertried to deal with her. She could deftly insinuate, on the one hand,that her aunts had always preached up the Underwood perfections; andon the other, hint to her father that if her home had still remainedwhat it was, she should never have looked out of it; and whenever heflew into a rage, or used violent language, she would look up under hereye-lids and whisper something about 'real gentlemen.' Those thorns andclaws that had figured in the scale of her transmigration were giving agood many little scratches, which did her feelings some good, but hercause none at all, by the vexation they produced. 'If she could onlybe made to understand,' said poor Miss Pearson, 'how little she gainsby irritating her father, and that he is really a very dreadful personwhen he is thoroughly offended! Poor child! my heart aches for her.'
So Wilmet was turned in upon her, and before she could utter a word washugged and kissed all over because she was the very image of darlingEdgar, and his dear violet eyes were exactly the same colour.
Unsentimental Wilmet extricated herself, saying, 'Eyes can't be violetcoloured. Don't let us go into that silly talk, Alice; things are tooserious now.'
'You are come to help me and be a dear!' cried Alice, clasping herhands. 'How does he look? the dear boy!'
'The same as usual,' said Wilmet, coolly. 'But, Alice, if you thinkthat I am come to--'
'Does he--really and truly? I saw him out of the little passage window,and I thought he looked quite thin! And Lizzie Bruce said Mrs. Hartleyasked who that handsome young man was who looked so delicate.'
'He is particularly strong and healthy. Alice, I want to set it allbefore you as a reasonable being--'
'Only do tell me; has he got his appetite? For you know he is used tolive where everything is _recherche_, and when one's out of spirits_things_ do make a difference--'
Was that the claw in the velvet paw?
'He eats three times as much as Felix any day,' said Wilmet, with acertain remembrance of the startling nudity of the bone of yesterday'sleg of mutton. 'He is doing very well. You need not be afraid for him;but it seems to me that you should consider whether it can be right--'
'Come, Wilmet, you were my first friend; you can't help being kind tome.'
'I want to show you true kindness.'
'True kindness means something horridly cross! Now don't, Wilmet. I getever so much kindness as it is! I know what you are going to say. It isvery naughty of people to like each other when neither of them has gota sixpence; but if they can't help it, what then? Must they leave offliking, eh?'
'They ought to try to prevent their liking from leading to disobedienceand concealment.'
'Ah! but if they can't?'
'People always can.'
'Were you ever tried?' asked Alice, slyly, for all the simplicity.
'I hope never to be, if deceiving my friends and making others deceiveis to be the consequence.'
'Well, luckily there isn't much chance,' crept out of the demure lips.It was intended as the thorn beneath the may-flower, but it was nosuch thing. Wilmet was quite ready to accept the improbability as veryfortunate.
'That has nothing to do with it,' she said. 'The question is, what itis right to do now. It seems hard for me to say so, being your friendand his sister--'
'Oh, never mind that. People's sisters never do like the girls they arefond of.'
Decidedly Wilmet could not get on. Her mouth was stopped either bya little rapture about Edgar, or a little velvet-pawed scratch toherself, whenever she tried in earnest to set the matter before Alice;and when, being a determined person, she at last talked on throughall that Alice tried to thrust in, and delivered her mind of theremonstrance she had carefully thought over, and balanced betweenkindness, prudence, and duty, and all the time with the conviction thatnot one word was heeded! If it was not English malice it was French_malice_ that pointed the replies and sent Wilmet away as much provokedas pitying, and not at all inclined to be examined by Edgar on herinterview, and let him gather that she had not had the best of it. PoorAlice! what were these little triumphs of a sharp tongue in comparisonwith the harm she did herself by exacerbating whoever tried to arguewith her? There was one person she did profess to wish to see, namely,Geraldine; but the flying rheumatic pains, excited by the black eastwind with sleet upon its blast, could not be trifled with; and MajorKnevett's wrath put an effectual stop to Alice's entering the houseduring the Saturday and Sunday of his stay at Bexley. Perhaps Cherrywas not sorry. She could not have pleaded against Edgar, in spite ofher disapprobation of both; and moreover, the thought at the bottom ofher heart was, 'How could any one who had been the object of such tonesof the one brother's voice be won by the showy graces of the other?Edgar could easily have thrown off a disappointment; but Felix camefirst--and oh! can he shake it off in the same light way?'
She had not the comfort of talking it over. Felix made no sign, andEdgar's line was to treat the whole complication as a matter ofpleasantry, pretending that he had only gone into it to please Felix!and yet, as came to their knowledge, privately exchanging billets andcatch-words with Alice, while he openly declared his engagement andresolution to work his way up and lay his laurels at her feet.
He went away the very same morning as Major Knevett carried off hisdaughter to Jersey, audaciously following them to the station, where heexchanged a grasp of the hand with her in the very sight of the 'greytyrant father,' who actually gnashed his teeth, in his inability eitherto knock him down or give him in charge.
There was no time to breathe between the departure of this pair oflovers and the arrival of Alda's splendid Life-Guardsman, who, horsesand all, took up his abode at the Fortinbras Arms, and spent hisdays in felicity with Alda. A very demonstrative pair they were. ToGeraldine, often unwillingly _en tiers_, they seemed to spend theirtime chiefly in sitting hand in hand, playing with one another's ringsand dangles, of which each seemed to possess an inexhaustible variety.Ferdinand's dressing-case and its contents were exquisite in their way,and were something between an amusement and a horror to Wilmet, whocould not understand Felix's regard for so extravagant and wastefula person, who gave away sovereigns where half-crowns would have beenmore wholesome, half-crowns instead of shillings, shillings instead ofpence, and who moreover was devoted to horse-flesh. His own favouritesteed, Brown Murad, had been secured at a fabulous price; and thepossession of him seemed to be the crowning triumph over a certainmillionaire baronet in the same corps, evidently his rival. What waseven more alarming was that every detail about races and horses intraining was at his fingers' ends, so that he put Felix up to a gooddeal of knowledge useful to the racing articles in the Pursuivant; buthe declared that he never betted. His was a perilous position, homelessand friendless as he stood; and this rendered him doubly grateful forthe brotherly welcome he received. Yet the days would have been long toany but lovers, in spite of the rides and walks, one even to Minsterhamto see Lance. Ferdinand liked to recur to the old remembrances of hisconvalescence; but in these Alda had no part, and they seemed to jar onher. She might sometimes seem half fretted by his impetuous southernlove, but she could not bear a particle of his attention to be bestowedon aught save herself; and when Geraldine would have utilised his finestraight profile as an artistic study, the monopoly was so unpleasingthat the portrait had to be dropped. The odd thing was that Aldashould have a lover whose most congenial spirit was Clement. He was agreat frequenter of St. Matthew's, and had no interest save in kindredsubjects. Felix always found them alike difficult to converse with,from a want of any breadth of sympathy with subjects past or present,such as would have occupied him even without the exigencies of hisprofession. They seemed to talk, not church, but shop, as if they didnot look beyond proximate ecclesiastical details, which they discussedin technical terms startling to the uninitiated; and yet Felix trustedthat Clement's soul was a good deal deeper and wider than his tongue,and that Ferdinand's, if narrow, was thoroughly resolute, finding inhis enthusiasm for these details a counterpoise for the temptations ofhis position.
His seemed to be a nature that would alternate between apatheticindolence and strong craving for excitement. He could go on fordays with a patient, almost silent, round of mechanical occupationsperformed well, nigh in his sleep, and then, when once stirred upbecame possessed with a vehement restlessness, as if there were still alittle about him of the panther of the wilderness.
At first he awaited his letter from his uncle much more philosophicallythan did Alda, but when it tarried still, he became so eager that hemade two journeys to London to meet the mail, and pestered every onewith calculations as to time and space.
The letter came, and was all that every one else had expected. AlfredTravis had always detested the family into which his nephew had beenthrown by his accident, and the tidings that the heiress had beenrejected for the sake of one of these designing girls could not bewelcome. So he gave notice that nothing more could be expected from himif his nephew stooped thus low. This, however, did not much concernFerdinand. He curled his black moustache, and quietly said his unclewould not find that game answer. The affairs of the brothers had alwaysbeen mixed together, and Ferdinand had been content to leave the wholein his uncle's hands, only drawing for his own handsome allowance; butthe foundation had been his mother's fortune, and he had only to claimhis own share of the capital, and disentangle it from the rest, eitherto bring his uncle to terms at once, or to be able to dispense withhis consent. The delay was vexatious, but it could be but brief; andin the meantime Bexley was felicity. Yes, in spite of the warning hereceived at the Rectory, which my Lady followed up by a remonstranceto Felix--over the counter, for in vain he tried to get her intothe office. He could only tell her that he much regretted Edgar'sconduct, but as to Alda, there was no disobedience, and the young man'scharacter was high. He was just as impracticably courteous as hisfather, and Lady Price shrugged her shoulders and _hoped_. 'For, FelixUnderwood,' she said, 'I am convinced that _after all_ you are a verywell-meaning young man.'
This was her farewell, for Mr. Bevan had been more ailing than usual,and had obtained permission to leave his parish for a year, to be spentpartly in the south of France, partly at the German baths.
Well was it for those who could get away! Never had the spring beensourer; Easter came so early as itself to seem untimely, and theWednesday of its week was bleakness itself, as Lance and Robina stoodon the top of the viaduct over the railway, looking over the parapetat the long perspective of rails and electric wires, their facesscrewed up, and reddened in unnatural places by the bitter blast. Felixhad asked at breakfast if any one would be the bearer of a note toMarshlands; Lance had not very willingly volunteered, because no oneelse would; then Robina joined him, and they had proceeded through thetown without a syllable from either of the usually lively tongues, tillas they stood from force of habit watching for a train, the followingcolloquy took place, Robina being the first speaker.
'What is it?'
'What is what?'
'What is the matter?'
'What is the matter with what?'
'With it all?'
There came a laugh, but Robina returned to the charge. 'Well, but whatis it? Is it east wind?'
'Something detestable--whatever it is,' grunted Lance.
'You've found it so too,' said Robina; for Lance had only come homeafter evening cathedral the day before.
'Haven't I, though!'
He said no more, being a boy of much reserve as to his privatetroubles; and Robina presently said,--
'I say, Lance, did Alda use to be nice, or is it love?'
'Never nice, like Wilmet or Cherry.'
'I am sure,' proceeded the girl, 'I thought love was the most beautifuland romantic thing--too nice to be talked about, for fear it shouldturn one's head; but here it seems to be really nothing but plague andbother and crossness.'
'Poor Bob!' said Lance, 'you got the worst of it up at Brompton.'
'I got it every way,' said Robina. 'There was Edgar treating me like alittle contemptible baby, and Alice sometimes coaxing me and sometimesspiting me, and Angel poisoned against me; and when I thought I mustbe acting for the best in telling Felix, somehow that turned outaltogether horrid.'
'I suppose a girl must be telling some one,' said Lance; 'and if it wasto be done, Felix was the right one.'
'So I made sure,' said poor Robin; 'but Miss Fulmort and Miss Fennimoreseemed to think it no better than if I had told you. They say I amforgiven, but I hate their forgiveness. I've done nothing wrong, andyet they don't like or trust me; and they seem to grudge me all mymarks and prizes. "For proficiency, not for conduct," they say, in thathard cold voice. And then the girls nod and whisper. Angel and all,think me a nasty spiteful marplot. Alice set half of them against mebefore she went!'
'Poor Bob. And you can't have a good set to, and punch their heads allround! That's the way to have it out, and get comfortable and friendly.'
'For choir boys? O Lance!'
'Choir boys aint girls, I thank my stars.'
'Well,' continued Robina, glad to pour out her troubles, even for suchcounsel as this, 'when I came home last week, I _did_ think it would bemade up.'
'Well,' said Lance, as Robin grew rather choky, and drew the back of awoolly glove across her eyes, not much to their benefit.
'Clem looks black, because he says his sisters were meant to raise thetone of the school.'
'Confound the tone of the school! I know what _that_ is! But who caresfor Tina?'
'Then Wilmet says I ought to have asked leave to write to her, and shecould have managed it quietly, and kept everybody out of a scrape.'
'Whew--w--w--' whistled Lance; but at the melancholy tone, heabsolutely took his red hand out of its comfortable nest in his pocket,to draw his sister's arm into his. It was well, for her voice was farmore trembling now. 'I could bear it all if it were not for Felixhimself. I know he is angry with me, but he won't talk, nor tell mehow; he only said, "We both meant to act for the best; but it is apainful affair, and we had better not discuss it," and then he began towhistle to Theodore. If any one did know how I hate being told I meantto act for the best!'
'Something is come over Felix,' said Lance. 'I never knew him give sucha jaw as he has to me. To be sure, he was set on to it.'
'Set on?'
'Yes, by Wilmet for one! You should have seen the way she was in--as ifI hadn't a right to do what I please with my own money.'
'What?'
'My violin! Ferdinand Travis tipped me when he rode over to theCathedral, and by good luck it was the day before the auction at oldSpicer's. Bill and I went in to see the fun; and by all that is lucky,there was a violin routed out of an old cupboard. Nobody bid against mebut Godwin, the broker, and it was knocked down to me for twenty-twoand six. Bill lent me the half-crown; and Poulter, our lay vicar, whois at a music-shop, says 'tis a real bargain, he's mad to have missedit himself; but he showed me how to put my fingers on it, and I canplay Mendelssohn's "Hirtenlied." You shall hear by-and-by, Robin. Well;Wilmet comes on it when she was unpacking my shirts. I'm sure I wishshe'd let me unpack them myself, instead of poking her nose there; andif she wasn't in a way! Wasting my money, when I ought to be saving itup to buy a watch; and wasting my time and all the rest of it--till onewould think 'twas old Scratch himself I'd brought home!'
'Oh don't, Lance. And did she set on Felix?'
'Ay; and then, you know, our new Precentor, Beccles, isn't one quarterthe man Nixon was; and he has been and written a letter to Fee that anyschoolmaster in creation should be licked for writing, to go and pisona poor chap's home--all about those cards.'
'What cards?'
'The pack Jones found in the middle of the north transept ten days ago.'
'Of the Cathedral! How shocking! But why should he write to Felix?'
'Because the big-wigs make sure some one out of the Bailey must havedropped them, getting into the town through the Cathedral at night.'
'But they don't suspect you?'
'No; but Beccles got into an awful way, and swears--'
'You don't mean really swears!'
'No, no--stuff--vows--that unless he gets to the bottom of it, not oneof us shall have the good-conduct prize. Now I did think I might havehad that--though I'm not a church candle like Tina--for I never was_had up_ for anything; and it is precious hard lines! Such a beauty,Robin, the Bishop gives it--all the Cathedral music, bound in redmorocco; and this beggar hinders us all this very last chance! Andthen, he is dirty enough to write and tell Felix to get out of me whohas been getting out through the Cathedral, and dropping the cards.'
'Do you know?'
'Hold your tongue; I thought you had a little sense! Felix had that; hesaw I could not tell him, and said it must be as I pleased about that;but then he rowed me, as he never did before, for wasting time, and notmugging for the exhibition--as if that was any use.'
'Why shouldn't you get the exhibition?'
'Put that out of your head,' said Lance, angrily; 'Harewood is sureof that! A fellow that construes by nature--looks at a sentence, andspots the nominative in a moment--makes verses--rale, superior, iligantarticles.'
'But I thought he wasn't always accurate. Can't you catch him out? OLance, don't look so fierce! I only said so because he can't want theexhibition as much as you. He can go to some other school, or be paidfor.'
'Not conveniently,' said Lance; 'they are not at all well off, andJack helps them. Besides, I wouldn't get the thing in a sneaking way;and besides, Bill could no more make a mull in construing out ofcarelessness than I could a false note--it's against nature. I can'tbeat him, except in arithmetic. My birth-day comes at such an unluckytime. I should get another year if I'd only been born in July insteadof June! I might be second, for Shapcote is only dogged by his father;but that's no good for the exhibition: and then there's an end ofCathedral and all!'
'What should you do then, Lance?'
'Whatever costs least! I'd as lief work my way out to Fulbert, if thisis to go on.'
'Oh, don't! don't do that, whatever you do!' cried Robina, clinging tohis arm.
'I don't see why not, if everybody is to be as savage as a bear whenone comes home. One always trusted to Felix to see sense, if nobodyelse did; but what with his jawing one about the exhibition, and Wilmetabout the tin and every spot on one's clothes, and Alda growling atwhatever one does in the parlour, I'm sure I wish I'd stayed at Bexley.'
The boy and girl had never before been tried by want of sympathy,and what seemed to them injustice, when they had thus descended intothe perturbed atmosphere of what they were used to regard as a happyhome. There was a long mutual communication of grievances--irritablespeeches--inattention from their elders--fancies and complaints ofAlda's enforced peremptorily by Wilmet--appeals to Felix either quashedor unheeded; the strange thing was, in how short a time so much hadmanaged to go wrong with them, except that they added the vexations ofthe last quarter to the present discomfort, real or fancied; and thoughthey were both good children, each had the strong feeling that therewas not as much encouragement as usual to goodness, and that it couldnot have been much worse if they had been seriously to blame. One hadexpected to be caressed for her endurance in a good cause; the otherhad not expected to be severely rebuked for what he scarcely viewedas faults. It was the first time this younger half of the family hadever suffered anything approaching to neglect or injustice
from theirseniors, and the moment was perilous. The discussion was forming theirdiscontents into a dangerously avowed state, if it had the beneficialeffect of raising their spirits by force of sympathy. At any rate, theywere in no gloomy mood when they reached the tidy little villa, withits beds of open-hearted crocuses defying the cold wind, and admittingthe sun to the utmost depths of their purple and golden bosoms, as theylaughed their cheery greeting.
No less cheerful was the welcome from kind old Mrs. Froggatt, whomet them at the door. 'Master Lancelot, Miss Robina, this is anunlooked-for pleasure, to be sure! My dear Miss Robina!' as the girlgave her hearty embrace.
They were the prime favourites next to Felix, and were the more gladlyhailed that Mr. Froggatt was anxious about the business on which theycame, and had been trying to get leave from his wife to peril hisrheumatics by coming in to Bexley about it. They must stay to luncheon;and while Mr. Froggatt went off to answer his note, they were made muchof over the fire, in the way that had of late become so abhorrent toBernard, with difficulty avoiding a pre-luncheon or nooning of cake andwine within an hour of the meal of the day.
'And how is Mr. Underwood?' asked Mrs. Froggatt, when Robina hadbeen divested of her wraps, placed close to the fire, screened andfootstooled, and when Lance had transferred the big white cat from thearm-chair to his own knee.
'Oh, very well, thank you,' said Robina, rather surprised that thelengthy catechism on the family health did not as usual start from'poor dear Miss Geraldine.'
'He was looking so thin, and had such a cough, I was quite concernedwhen he walked out here on Good Friday afternoon,' continued Mrs.Froggatt. 'I hope he is taking care.'
'Wilmet is always at him about it,' said Lance.
'That is right. And I hope he minds to keep the office-door shut. It issuch a draughty place! Does he wear flannel, do you know, my dear?'
'I think so,' said Robina. 'Sister Constance told Wilmet he ought, whenhe had that long cough after the measles.'
'Ay. You know--you'll excuse me, my dears, a cough is not to be trifledwith in your dear family.'
'You should write to the clerk of the weather-office, Mrs. Froggatt,'said Lance, rather gruffly.
And as Mrs. Froggatt was not good at understanding jokes, but wasalways ready to accept Mr. Lance's, she thought he meant AdmiralFitzroy; and much explanation and banter followed, which the childrenmade the louder from dread of the subject. Mrs. Froggatt was by nomeans the cultivated person her husband was; but, being of a good oldplain farmer stock, she was quite as unassuming, and her manners withthe young Underwoods were a good deal like those of a superior oldhousekeeper, only perhaps less authoritative and familiar; but she wasnot to be kept away from the subject of her real anxiety. 'I wish Icould see your sister, and speak to her; he ought to have some advicerather than let it run on in this way. I'm sure Mr. Froggatt would bewilling to do anything. It has been a great concern to him to have toleave such a heavy charge to him this spring, and with all the familycares on his head too, at his age. Miss Alda's wedding put off too--isit? And is the young gentleman here still?'
'No; his leave was over last Monday,' said Robina, 'a week after I camehome.'
'I should like to have seen him! Your brother says he is grown up sucha fine-looking young man, and quite got over his lameness. A handsomecouple they will be! I did see them ride through the place, but MissAlda didn't see me.'
'You saw his horse?' broke in Lance, who considered Brown Murad as asuperior specimen to either of the lovers; and Mrs. Froggatt, whosefather had bred horses, and whose son was much more addicted to themthan was for his good, was a much more intelligent auditor of theperfections now dilated on than could have been expected.
Yet nothing could keep off the dreaded subject, and even at table,Lance's disappointing deficiency in schoolboy voracity became the causeof a lamentation over his brother's small appetite, and an examinationof Robina, resulting in her allowing that Felix seldom gave himselftime to do more than snatch a crust of bread in the middle of the day,and did not always make up for it at tea-time. Mr. Froggatt shook hishead and looked distressed, and his good lady went on discoursing aboutthe basin of soup she always used to keep prepared for him, evidentlylonging, though not quite daring, to send a lecture to Wilmet on takingcare of her brother. But what made more impression on both the childrenwas, that after they had been into Mr. Froggatt's little conservatorywith him, and had received into their charge a basket of camellias,violets, and calycanthus, with a pot of jonquils in the middle forGeraldine, the old gentleman said, as he bade them good-bye, 'Tell yoursister, that if she thinks a day or two of laying by would be goodfor your brother, I should be ready and glad to change places withhim. A little change might take away his cough; and I don't like hislooks--no, I don't. He ought to be careful;' this to himself, with along sigh.
Then the children got out into the garden, and with the naturalimpatience of the evil omen, exclaimed at the same moment--
'Croak, croak, croak, went the frogs,'
and
'Were there ever such a pair of good old coddles!'
But then they walked on for a full quarter of a mile before either saidanother word; and then it was, 'You don't think Felix looking ill, doyou, Lance?'
'I never thought about his looks at all,' said Lance.
'No more did I,' said Robina; 'but he does cough; I hear him throughthe wall in the morning. Do you think there is anything in it, Lance?'
'How long has it been going on?'
'Ever since he came up to London. He got a chill in our garden when Iwas telling him about--' said Robina, stopping short of what she hatedto mention.
'Then that's it!' said Lance, turning round with a face of one who hadmade a great discovery.
'It? What is the matter with him?'
'Yes,' said Lance. 'Hold your tongue, Robina; but Cherry and I thoughtlong ago that he fancied that little Knevett himself. Then I made sureit was all a mistake; but now, depend upon it, that's what he is so cutup about!'
It carried conviction to the hearer, perhaps because it fitted in witha girl's love of romance. 'Then that's why he won't talk to me!'
'Of course!'
And then they began putting together all the tokens of inclinationwhich their small experience and large imagination could suggest, tillthey had pretty well decided the point in their own belief, and hadamused themselves considerably; but the anxiety came back again.
'Do people get over such things, Lance? There was Ophelia, and therewas Wilfred in "Rokeby"--only she was a woman, and he was pipy. Did youever know of anybody really and truly?'
Lance meditated, but his experience reached no farther than thesurgeon's assistant at Minsterham, who was reported to be continuallyin love, but who did not look greatly the worse for it.
And then Robina suggested that she did not remember that either Wilfredor Ophelia had a cough.
'But my father had,' said Lance in the depths of his throat. 'Don't youknow, Robin, it was hard work and trouble and poverty that--_did it?_'
'Was it?' awe-struck, for she had been so young as to have no clearideas.
'I've heard it told often enough. My Lady cut off the third curate; andthat--and all the rest of it--helped to bring on the decline.'
'But, Lance! At least, that wasn't--love.'
'Nonsense, Robin! Don't you see, whatever takes the heart and spiritout of a man, makes him ready for illness to get hold of?' Lanceplucked desperately at the hazels in the hedge, and his eyes were fullof tears.
'O Lance, Lance, what can we do?'
'I don't know! I'd let him pitch into me from morning till night ifthat would do him any good!'
'I'm sure I am very sorry I grumbled. We'll give Wilmet Mr. Froggatt'smessage, and see what she thinks.'
Poor children! their consternation was such, that they must judge bytheir own eyes of Felix without loss of time; so they both marched intothe shop with Mr. Froggatt's note, and there felt half baffled to seeFelix looking much as usual, v
ery busy trying to content a lady withnursery literature, and casting a glance at Robin as if she had nobusiness there.
Wilmet received Mr. Froggatt's message without excitement. Shethought it would be a very good thing, but she did not believe Felixwould consent; and Alda broke out, 'Then we should have Mr. Froggattinflicted on us all the evening!'
Nor did Felix consent. He said it was very kind, but his cold wasalmost gone, and he did not need it. Moreover he had his privatedoubts whether Alda would be decently gracious to Mr. Froggatt; andWilmet, whose one object in life was to keep her sister contented andhappy at home, could press nothing so disagreeable to her. Altogether,the reception of their hints at home was so prosaically placid, thatthey were both rather ashamed of the alarm into which they had workedthemselves up. Even when Robina privately asked Cherry whether shethought Felix looking well, the answer was eager.
'Oh, very--very well! He looked pulled down when his cold was bad, buthe is quite well now.'
'Mrs. Froggatt thought--'
'Oh, you've been talking to Mrs. Froggatt! She thinks nothing so kindas to say one is looking poorly. I said, "How well you are looking,Mrs. Froggatt," one day, and I assure you she only swallowed it by anact of Christian forgiveness. She is fondest of Felix, so of course helooks the worst.'
Robina got no more out of Geraldine, whose fears at that moment werein the form of utterly denying themselves. Commonplace life greatlyreassured the two young things, and of the alarm there chiefly remaineda certain shame at their own former discontent, and doubly tenderfeeling towards their fatherly elder brother. Now that they guessedsomething to be amiss with him, they had no irritation for him--andindeed he gave them no cause for any; the discomfort was partly indeedoccasioned by the lack of his usual quiet mirth, but far more by Alda'sfastidiousness, and Wilmet's vigilance lest she should be annoyed. Thiscaused restrictions that weighed more heavily on the younger ones thanon Lance and Robina, and had the effect of making Angela and Bernardrebellious. They had neither the principle nor the consideration oftheir two seniors; to them every one seemed simply 'cross,' and againstthis crossness there was a constant struggle, either of disobedience orof grumble.
Both were at rather an insubordinate age. Angela, having begun schoollife with getting into a scrape greater than she understood, hadacquired a naughty-girl reputation, of the kind that tempts the youngmind to live up to it; and her high spirits, boisterous nature, and'don't care' system made her irrepressible by any one but Wilmet,whose resolute hand might be murmured at, but was never relaxed. WhileBernard, hitherto very fairly amenable to Cherry, and a capital littlescholar, became infected with the spirit of riot and insubordination.Whatever fastidiousness the children took for fine-ladyism in Alda theytreated unmercifully, and resented in their own fashion her complaints,and Wilmet's enforcement of regard to her tastes; nor was Lance alwaysblameless in the tricks played upon her.
It was strange to see the difference made by one incongruous element. Afew sneers at Cherry's pronunciation, an injudicious laugh when she wasrebuking, and a general habit of making light of her, on Alda's part,upset all Bernard's habits of deference to the sister who had taughthim all he knew. His lessons grew into daily battles--miseries tohimself and far greater miseries to his teacher, and sufficient miseryto the spectator to induce her to do that which the other sisters couldscarcely have brought themselves to do on any provocation, namelyto complain to Felix, and by-and-by make a representation, for thegeneral good, she said, that it was a mere farce to leave the boy underCherry's management.
Cherry, with bitter tears, was forced to own that she could no longerkeep him in order nor make him learn, and there was no alternative butto send him to Mr. Ryder's. He had no voice nor ear, so that he couldnot follow in Lance's steps; and for the present, Bexley was the onlyresource.
Of course Cherry charged the whole of this upon her poor little self;and some amount of the trouble certainly was due to her incapacitynot to show in voice and manner when she was under fret, anxiety, ordepression; and now, poor child! all three at once had come upon her.Whether Alda's conversation or the children's naughtiness frettedher most, it would be hard to tell; she was in a continual stateof unuttered, vague, and therefore most wearing anxiety on Felix'saccount, and the physical discomfort of the ungenial spring told onher whole frame and spirits. Alda's talk, when good-humoured, openedsuch vistas of brightness, amusement, conversation, and above all ofbeautiful scenes, that they awoke longings and cravings that Cherryhad hardly known before. The weariness of the grinding monotony ofhome seemed to have infected her. She knew it for discontent, and wasthe more miserable over her want of power to control it, because ofthe terror that hung over her lest repinings might bring on them allthe judicial punishment of a terrible break-up of the home she loved,even while the tedium of the daily round oppressed her. Alternateplaintiveness and weary sharpness of course aggravated both Alda andBernard, and they knew nothing of the repentant wretchedness thatrather weakened than strengthened her.
Little Stella's unfailing docility and sweetness were her great solace.Even Alda was exceedingly fond of Stella, and would have spoilt herif the child had not been singularly firm in her intense love andloyalty to the heads of the family. Angel and Bear were too rough forher, and alarmed her sense of duty; but Lance was her hero; and thehappiest moments of those holidays were spent in a certain loft abovea warehouse in the court of the printing-office, only attainable bya long ladder. Here, secure that none but favoured ears could hear,Lance practised on his beloved violin, at every hour he could steal,emulating too often Mother Hubbard's dog 'fiddling to mice,' buthis audience often including his three younger sisters. He had hadscarcely any hints, but his was the nature that could pick music out ofanything; and Angela, much more than Robin, was ecstatic in all thatconcerned the sixth sense, and watched and criticised with rapture,wanted to learn, and pouted at being told that it was not fit for awoman. Among those stacks of paper in the dusty loft, with the stampand thud of the press close at hand, it was possible to forget, increating sounds and longing to fulfil the dream of the spirit, thatAlda was exacting and trying, Wilmet blind to the annoyances shecaused, Cherry striving hard, and not always successfully, with thefretfulness of anxiety, and Felix--they durst not think in what state.That loft and that violin made their fairy-land, and one that renderedit most unusually hard for Lance to learn his holiday task.
'I'll tell you what, Lance,' said Robina at last, when he had vainlybeen trying to repeat it to her, with his eye on a sheet of music allthe time, 'you can't do two things at once. If I were you, I would lockup that violin till the summer examination is over.'
He turned on her quite angrily. 'Very fine talking! Lock up all thepleasure I have in life! Thank you!'
'I'm quite sure you'll never get the exhibition if you have your headin this.'
'I shan't get the exhibition any way.'
'But if you do your utmost for it?'
'I shall do my utmost!'
'You can't if you have these tunes always running in your head, and arealways wild to be picking them out.'
'Well, Robin, I sometimes think I should do more good with music thananything else.'
'Maybe,' said Robina, a sensible little woman; 'but you'll do no goodby half and half. If you don't do well in the examination, Felix willbe horribly vexed, and you'll always hate the thought of it.'
'I tell you I shall be as dull as ditch-water, and as stupid asShapcote, if I don't have any pleasure.'
'I only don't want you to be stupider.'
Lance chucked up a pen-wiper and caught it.
'The fact is,' said Robina, 'all we've got to do is our best. If wedon't, it is wrong in us, and it makes us more a weight on Felix; andI think it is our real duty to keep everything out of the way thathinders us, if it is ever so nice.'
'Is that Cock Robin, or Parson Rook with his little book?' said Lance,throwing the pen-wiper in her face.
But the week after, when Robina was at school again, she was
called toreceive a letter which had something hard in it.
'Did you leave a key behind you?' she was asked a little suspiciously,for there was nothing about it in the brief note.
'No, Miss Fennimore; but my brother has sent it to me to keep for him.It is the key of his violin-case, and he is not going to touch it tillhe is past his examination.'
From that time Miss Fennimore entertained a better opinion of RobinaUnderwood; but little recked Robina. She only felt secure that afterthis act of heroism Lance could not but gain the exhibition.
The Pillars of the House; Or, Under Wode, Under Rode, Vol. 1 (of 2) Page 16