A BAD HABIT.
CHAPTER I.
"Oh, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live."
SHAKESPEARE.
My godmother, Lady Elizabeth, used to say, "Most things are matters ofhabit. Good habits and bad habits." And she generally added, "_Your_bad habit, Selina, is a habit of grumbling."
I was always accustomed to seeing great respect paid to anything mygodmother said or did. In the first place, she was what Mrs. ArthurJames Johnson called "a fine lady," and what the maids called "a reallady." She was an old friend and, I think, a relative of my father,who had married a little below his own rank--my mother being thedaughter of a rich manufacturer. My father had died before I canremember things, and Joseph and I lived with our mother and herfriends. At least, we were with our mother when she could bear thenoise; and for the rest of our time, when we were tired of playinggames together, we sat with the maids.
"That is where you learned your little _toss_ and your trick ofgrumbling, my dear," my godmother said, planting her gold eye-glasseson her high nose; "and that is why your mouth is growing out of shape,and your forehead getting puckered, and your chin poked, and--and yourboots bulged crooked."
"_My boots_, godmother?"
"Your boots, my dear. No boots will keep in shape if you shake yourhips and kick with your heels like a servant out Sunday walking. Whenlittle girls flounce on the high road, it only looks ridiculous; butwhen you grow up, you'll never have a clean petticoat, or be known fora well-bred woman behind your back, unless you learn to walk as ifyour legs and your feelings were under your own control. That is whythe sergeant is coming to-morrow and every week-day morning to drillyou and Joseph from ten to eleven whilst you remain here."
And my godmother pressed the leaves of the journal on her lap, and cutthem quite straight and very decisively with a heavy ivorypaper-knife.
I had never been taught that it is bad manners to mutter--nursealways talked to herself when she was "put out"--and, as I stood inmuch awe of Lady Elizabeth, I did not like to complain aloud of herarrangements. So I turned my doll with a sharp flounce in my arms, andmuttered behind her tarlatan skirts that "I did think we were to havehad whole holidays out visiting."
I believe my godmother heard me; but she only looked at me for amoment over the top of her gold eye-glasses, and then went on readingthe paper through them.
After a few moments, she laid it down on her lap with her left hand,and with her right hand took off her eye-glasses and held them betweenher fingers.
"I shall be sorry if you don't grow up nice-looking, Selina," shesaid. "It's a great advantage to a woman--indeed, to anyone--to begood-looking. Your mother was a pretty woman, too; and your father--"
Lady Elizabeth stopped, and then, seeming suddenly to see that I waswatching her and waiting, put her glasses before her eyes again, andcontinued--
"Your father was a very good-looking gentleman, with a fine face and afine figure, beautiful eyes and mouth, very attractive hands, and mostfascinating manners. It will be a pity if you don't grow upnice-looking."
I grew crimson, partly with mortification and partly withastonishment. I had a strong natural desire to be pretty, but I feltsure I had been taught somehow that it was much more meritorious notto care about it. It certainly did not please me when (if I hadoffended them) the maids said I should never be as pretty as Maud MaryIbbetson, my bosom friend; but when nurse took the good looking-glassout of the nursery, and hung up the wavy one which used to be in herroom instead, to keep me from growing vain, I did not dispute herstatement that "the less little girls looked in the glass the better."And when I went to see Maud Mary (who was the only child of richparents, and had a cheval-glass in her own bed-room), it was a justsatisfaction to me to feel that if she was prettier, and could seeherself full length, she was probably vainer than I.
It was very mortifying, therefore, to find that my godmother not onlythought me plain, but gave me no credit for not minding it. I grewredder and redder, and my eyes filled with tears.
Lady Elizabeth was very nice in one way--she treated us with as muchcourtesy and consideration as if we were grown up. People do not thinkabout being polite to children, but my godmother was very polite.
"My dear child," she said, holding out her hand, "I am very sorry if Ihave hurt your feelings. I beg your pardon."
I put my hot and rather dirty little paw among her cool fingers anddiamond rings. I could not mutter to her face, but I said rather undermy sobs that "it seemed such a thing" to be blamed for not beingpretty.
"My dear Selina, I never said anything about your being pretty. I saidI should be sorry if you did not grow up nice-looking, which is quiteanother thing. It will depend on yourself whether you are nice-lookingor not."
I began to feel comforted, but I bridled my chin in an aggrievedmanner, which I know I had caught from Mrs. Marsden, the charwoman,when she took tea in the nursery and told long tales to nurse; and Isaid I "was sure it wasn't for want of speaking to" nurse that my hairdid not wave like Maud Mary's, but that when I asked her to crimp it,she only said, "Handsome is that handsome does, and that ought to beenough for you, Miss Selina, without _my_ slaving to damp-plait yourhair every night."
I repeated nurse's speech pretty volubly, and with her sharp accentand accompanying toss. My godmother heard me out, and then she said--
"Nurse quoted a very good proverb, which is even truer than it isallowed to be. Those who do well grow to look well. My littlegoddaughter, that soft child's face of yours can be pinched and pulledinto a nice shape or an ugly shape, very much as you pull and pinchthat gutta-percha head I gave you, and, one way or another, it isbeing shaped all along."
"But people can't give themselves beautiful figures, and eyes, andmouths, and hands, as you said papa had, unless they are born so," Iobjected.
"Your father's figure, my dear," said Lady Elizabeth, "was beautifulwith the grace and power which comes of training. He was a militaryman, and you have only to look at a dozen common men in a marchingregiment and compare them with a dozen of the same class of men who goon plodding to work and loafing at play in their native villages, tosee what people can do for their own figures. His eyes, Selina, werebright with intelligence and trained powers of observation; and theywere beautiful with kindliness, and with the well-bred habit of givingcomplete attention to other people and their affairs when he talkedwith them. He had a rare smile, which you may not inherit, but thereal beauty of such mouths as his comes from the lips being restrainedinto firm and sensitive lines, through years of self-control and finesympathies."
I do not quite understand. "Do you mean that I can practise my mouthinto a nice shape?" I asked.
"Certainly not, my dear, any more than you can pinch your nose intoshape with your finger and thumb; but your lips, and all the lines ofyour face, will take shape of themselves, according to your temper andhabits.
"There are two things," my godmother continued, after turning round tolook at me for a minute, "there are two things, Selina, against yourgrowing up good-looking. One is that you have caught so many littlevulgarisms from the servants; and the other is your little bad habitof grumbling, which, for that matter, is a very ill-bred habit aswell, and would spoil the prettiest eyes, nose, mouth, and chin thatever were inherited. Under-bred and ill-educated women are, as ageneral rule, much less good-looking than well-bred andhighly-educated ones, especially in middle life; not because goodfeatures and pretty complexions belong to one class more than toanother, but because nicer personal habits and stricter discipline ofthe mind do. A girl who was never taught to brush her teeth, tobreathe through the nostrils instead of the lips, and to chew with theback teeth instead of the front, has a very poor chance of growing upwith a pretty mouth, as anyone may see who has observed a middle-agedwoman of that class munching a meat pie at a railway-station. And if,into the bargain, she has nothing
to talk about but her own and herneighbour's everyday affairs, and nothing to think about to keep herfrom continually talking, life, my dear child, is so full of littlerubs, that constant chatter of this kind must almost certainly beconstant grumbling. And constant grumbling, Selina, makes an uglyunder-lip, a forehead wrinkled with frowning, and dull eyes that seenothing but grievances. There is a book in the library with somepictures of faces that I must show you. Do you draw at all, my dear?"
"Mamma gave me a drawing-slate on my birthday," I replied, "but Josephbothered me to lend it to him, and now he's broken the glass. It _is_so tiresome! But it's always the way if you lend things."
"What makes you think that it is always the way if you lend things?"my godmother gently inquired.
"It seems as if it was, I'm sure," was my answer. "It was just thesame with the fish-kettle when cook lent it to the Browns. They keptit a fortnight, and let it rust, and the first time cook put a drop ofwater into it it leaked; and she said it always _was_ the way; youmight lend everything you had, and people had no conscience, but ifit came to borrowing a pepperpot--"
My godmother put up both her long hands with an impatient gesture.
"That will do, my dear. I don't care to hear all that your mother'scook said about the fish-kettle."
I felt uncomfortable, and was glad that Lady Elizabeth went ontalking.
"Have you and Joseph any collections? When I was your age, I rememberI made a nice collection of wafers. They were quite as pretty asmodern monograms."
"Joseph collected feathers out of the pillows once," I said, laughing."He got a great many different sorts, but nurse burned them, and hecried."
"I'm sorry nurse burned them. I daresay they made him very happy. Iadvise you to begin a collection, Selina. It is a capital cure fordiscontent. Anything will do. A collection of buttons, for instance.There are a great many kinds; and if ever some travelled friend crownsyour collection with a mandarin's button, for one day at least youwon't feel a grievance worth speaking of."
I was feeling very much aggrieved as Lady Elizabeth spoke, andthinking to myself that "it seemed so hard to be scolded out visiting,and when one had not got into any scrape." But I only said that"nobody at home ever said that I grumbled so much;" and that I "didn'tknow that our servants complained more than other people's."
"I do not suppose they do," said my godmother. "I have told youalready that I consider it a foible of ill-educated people, whoseinterests are very limited, and whose feelings are not disciplined.You know James, the butler, Selina, do you not?"
"Oh, yes, godmamma!"
I knew James well. He was very kind to me, and always liberal when, byLady Elizabeth's orders, he helped me to almonds and raisins atdessert.
"My mother died young," said Lady Elizabeth, "and at sixteen I washead of my father's household. I had been well trained, and I tried todo my duty. Amid all the details of providing for and entertainingmany people, my duty was to think of everything, and never to seem asif I had anything on my mind. I should have been fairly trained _for akitchen-maid_, Selina, if I had done what I was told when it wasbawled at me, and had talked and seemed more overwhelmed with workthan the Prime Minister. Well, most of our servants had known me frombabyhood, and it was not a light matter to have the needful authorityover them without hurting the feelings of such old and faithfulfriends. But, on the whole, they respected my efforts, and were proudof my self-possession. I had more trouble with the younger ones, whowere too young to help me, and whom I was too young to overawe. I wasbusy one morning writing necessary letters, when James--who was thenseventeen, and the under-footman--came to the drawing room and wishedto speak to me. When he had wasted a good deal of my time indescribing his unwillingness to disturb me, and the years his fatherhad lived in my father's service, I said, 'James, I have importantletters to write, and very little time to spare. If you have anycomplaint to make, will you kindly put it as shortly as you can?' 'I'msure, my lady, I have no wish to complain,' was James's reply; andthereon his complaints poured forth in a continuous stream. I took outmy watch (unseen by James, for I never insult people), and gave himfive minutes for his grievances. He got on pretty fast with them. Hehad mentioned the stone floor of his bed-room, a draught in the pantry,the overbearingness of the butler, the potatoes for the servants' hallbeing under-boiled when the cook was out of temper, the inferiorquality of the new plate-powder, the insinuations against his father'shonesty by servants who were upstarts by comparison, his hat havingbeen spoilt by the rain, and that he never was so miserable in hislife--when the five minutes expired, and I said 'Then, James, you wantto go?' He coloured, and I really think tears stood in his eyes. Hewas a good-hearted lad.
"When he began to say that he could never regard any other place as helooked on this, and that he felt towards his lordship and me as hecould feel towards no other master and mistress, I gave him anotherfive minutes for what he was pleased with. To do him justice, the listwas quite as long as that of his grievances. No people were like us,and he had never been so happy in his life. So I said, 'Then, James,you want to stay?'
"James began a fresh statement, in which his grievances and hissatisfactions came alternately, and I cut this short by saying, 'Well,James, the difficulty seems to be that you have not made up your mindwhat you do want. I have no time to balance matters for you, so youhad better go downstairs and think it well over, and let me know whatyou decide.'
"He went accordingly, and when he was driven to think for himself bybeing stopped from talking to me, I suppose he was wise enough toperceive that it is easier to find crosses in one's lot than to feelquite sure that one could change it for a better. I have no doubt thathe had _not_ got all he might lawfully have wished for, but, differentas our positions were, no more had I, and we both had to do our dutyand make the best of life as we found it. It's a very good thing, dearchild, to get into the habit of saying to oneself, 'One can't haveeverything.' I suppose James learned to say it, for he has lived withme ever since."
At this moment Joseph called to me through the open window which ledinto the garden--
"Oh, Selina! I am so sorry; but when I got to the shop I couldn'tremember whether it was a quarter of a yard of ribbon orthree-quarters that you wanted for the doll's hat."
Joseph was always doing stupid things like this. It vexed me verymuch, and I jumped up and hastily seized my doll to go out and speakto him, saying, as I did so, that "boys were enough to drive one wild,and one might as well ask the poodle to do anything as Joseph." And itwas not till I had flounced out of the drawing-room that I felt ratherhot and uncomfortable to remember that I had tossed my head, andknitted my brows, and jerked my chin, and pouted my lips, and shakenmy skirts, and kicked up my heels, as I did so, and that my godmotherhad probably been observing me through her gold eye-glasses.
Melchior's Dream and Other Tales Page 12