Selma at the Abbey

by Elsie J. Oxenham

  “I can that! I don’t wonder Jen tried to save them.”

  “And jumped on Angus. I really didn’t blame her,” Joan agreed. “We thought they’d be safer in the house than in the Abbey.”

  “What like would be the one you sold to give Angus his lessons?” Selma asked shyly.

  “A ruby; like this. There were two large ones, so we chose one of them.”

  “And now you’ve only got the one left!” Selma looked at her with tragic wondering eyes. “It was the most marvellous thing I ever heard!”

  “Both Joy and I wanted to do it; we decided quite separately. They belong to us both; they were found in my Abbey, but Jehane comes from Joy’s family history. I haven’t any family history!” Joan laughed, and picked up some of the stones and held them to the light. “Yes, they’re beautiful. Perhaps some day we’ll have them made up into jewellery that we can wear.”

  “Jen showed me the gold ring that belonged to the old monk.”

  “Ambrose’s keepsake ring. She’s very proud of it,” Joan agreed. “And I have a sapphire ring that he made for Jehane. It was handed down in the family as an heirloom, and after various adventures—in Australia!—it came home to us, and Joy gave it to me, as she had one almost exactly the same, which had been her mother’s.”

  “I’m glad to have seen these lovely things,” Selma said wistfully. “Thank you for showing me. I understand better now.”

  “We felt you ought to see them before Angus comes.” And Joan locked the cabinet carefully.

  CHAPTER 21

  THE LAST SECRET

  “Joan! Joan! I’ve done the most awful thing!” Jen, half undressed for bed, hurled herself into Joan’s room and collapsed into heartbroken tears.

  “Jen, what is it?” Joan cried. “What is the matter?”

  “We were talking about school, Selma and I,” Jen sobbed. “She likes it, and the girls like her, and she says she got on most awfully well to-day. So I said that was marvellous, and—and then—oh, Joan! I didn’t mean any harm! I never thought she’d care!”

  “What did you say?” Joan asked, knowing the answer before it came.

  “I said, wasn’t it a good thing Angus asked you to have her here? I forgot she didn’t know how it had happened.”

  “You needn’t have done that,” Joan said, very quietly. “What did Selma say?”

  “She stood up and stared at me, looking awfully funny. Then she said something like—‘Angus asked them? Didn’t they want me?’—and then I think she began to cry. So I came rushing for you. Oh, Joan, I never meant to upset her! Why does she care?”

  “Stay here. Or go to bed. Don’t come, Jen!” and Joan went quickly to Selma’s room.

  Jen dared not disobey, when Joan spoke in that tone. She crept to her own room, and closed the door quietly, and wept.

  Selma had dropped on her bed and was crying passionately. Joan sat beside her and slipped an arm round her and patted her shoulder. “Don’t, Selma dear! It hurts me,” she pleaded. “We’re so glad to have you here.”

  “Angus asked you to have me?” Selma choked. “You didn’t really want me? It was his plan?”

  “That isn’t fair,” Joan said steadily. “We wanted you as much as we could want anybody whom we had never seen. We really wanted you quite a lot, for Angus had told us how he felt about you and had talked of ‘my girl’ and ‘my lassie,’ and we wanted to see you very badly. I don’t mind telling you we were a little nervous till we saw what you were like. But we liked you from the first moment, and very much better than we had expected to do.”

  “I thought—it was just that you’d heard about me—and—and you wanted me to come,” Selma gasped.

  “That’s exactly how it was,” Joan said cheerfully. “If the suggestion that you should come here came from Angus, what difference does that make?”

  “Oh, it is different! You know it is! You felt you had to ask me.”

  “Because we wanted to see you,” Joan said firmly. “Angus had made us curious about you. And we wanted to help. It was so obvious that he felt you were not having a proper chance in life, just working in your shop. He wanted you to see new places and new people, and he was right, Selma. You have enjoyed it; you can’t say you haven’t. I really don’t see what you have to be upset about.”

  “But—that he should ask you! And after you had been so terribly kind about his lessons! It was such—such an awful thing to do!”

  “We felt like that, but only for one minute. And you won’t go on feeling it when you’ve thought a little more. Don’t you see what a compliment Angus paid us, when he decided we were the right people for his precious girl to live with for a while? I really mean precious; his treasure, if you like. He wanted the best for you, and he decided we could give it to you. I think really it was Mother who made him so sure; he wanted you to know her and live with her.”

  “But he oughtn’t to have asked!” Selma insisted brokenly. “If you’d thought of it, it would be different.”

  “I’m sure we should have thought of it, if we’d had time to think it over. But he gave us no time; he told us about you and asked us to have you here, all at once.”

  “If I’d known, I’d no’ have come,” Selma sobbed again.

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t. And think what you’d have missed! You know you’ve been happy here.”

  There was silence, while Selma pondered this. Joan gave her a moment or two, and then began on a new line of thought.

  “Don’t you think Angus was rather a hero, Selma? And it was for your sake.”

  “How do you mean?” Selma jerked.

  “Well, my dear, he simply hated asking us! You can surely understand that, after what had happened here only two months before! You know the whole story; how do you think Angus felt, about asking us to do something more for him?”

  “I don’t know how he could!”

  “To tell the truth, neither do I,” Joan said frankly. “He has far more courage than I’d ever imagined. And it was for you. Don’t you see how much he must care about you, when he could do such a terribly hard thing for your sake?”

  “Did he—really—hate doing it?” Selma whispered.

  “He loathed it,” Joan said definitely. “I think it was one of the hardest things he ever did. He said something about its being harder for him to ask us than for anybody else in the world; and of course that was true. Give him credit for being brave, Selma—very brave!”

  “Aye, it might be brave,” Selma admitted unsteadily.

  “And it was for you,” Joan repeated. “Nothing else in the world could have made him do it. I want you to promise to think about that and not to cry any more. I know you had a horrid shock; I’m sorry Jen was careless. We knew the idea might worry you and we felt it would be better if you didn’t know. Jen speaks too quickly at times. She’s very sorry she upset you.”

  “You knew I’d no’ be pleased.”

  “We guessed it. But we were sure that once you knew us you wouldn’t feel so bad. And we felt that, if you were honest, you’d admit you were glad to be here. Are you glad, Selma? Are you honest?”

  “I’m glad I’m here.” Selma spoke after a pause. “But I wish——”

  “No, you don’t! Most certainly you don’t wish it had happened in another way, so don’t imagine you do,” Joan said breezily. “If it hadn’t happened, you’d never have had this particular proof of how much Angus cares about you. If you think of that long journey, all alone in the train, with nothing to think about but what lay before him, and dreading it most terribly all the time, you’ll realise how very much he must have cared for you, and how hard it was for him. Now that you understand, I’m rather glad you know all about it. Angus told you the story of the jewels so that when you and he are married it should be all clear between you, with no secrets; but there was this one other thing he had kept from you. Now there isn’t anything. It was his last small secret, and it was for your sake he did it and for your sake he didn’t tell you. All
that is worth thinking over. You are a very lucky girl, to have a man care for you so much, and you should be very happy. I’ll not say any more; I want you to think about Angus until you go to sleep. I’ll speak to Jen; she’s very unhappy about you. May I tell her it’s all right?”

  “It’s no’ her fault. Maybe it’s better I should know.”

  “I’m sure it is. There’s nothing to be upset about. I’ll tell her you’re not going to be unhappy any more, shall I?”

  There was a pause. Then Selma whispered, “Yes, please. Say that to her. I’ll be sensible.”

  “Good! Now get into bed and think how much Angus must have loved you, when he put away his own feelings for your sake.”

  Selma sat up. “You’ve made it seem different. I want to think about all that.”

  “That’s a good girl. But don’t lie awake too long.” Joan bent and kissed her and went away.

  Selma gave a little gasp. No one had kissed her since her mother died. “She—oh, she’s kind! What if I’d never known them all? And Angus wanted it for me. He knew how I’d love them!”

  Suddenly she ran after Joan and caught her at the door of Jen’s room. “I’d like to speak to her. Will I tell her it’s all right?”

  Joan paused, her face lighting up. “Oh, yes, Selma! That’s a far better way. Tell her I say it’s all right too.” And she went on to her own room, looking satisfied.

  Selma slipped into the blue room and found Jen in bed, lying face downwards, sobbing quietly into her pillow.

  In a moment Selma was upon her, an arm thrown round her. “Jen! Oh, my dear, don’t do that! It’s all right.”

  “Selma!” Jen gave a smothered shout. “Oh, can you forgive me? I know I upset you most frightfully!”

  “I don’t care so much now. I hadn’t thought, but Joan explained things to me. Isn’t she kind, Jen?”

  “Joan? She’s simply marvellous! But I let her down badly, and you too. I do so hate to hurt people!” and Jen’s lips quivered. “I don’t do it often; I’m sure I don’t! It makes me feel quite horrible.”

  “Don’t start again!” Selma begged. “I know now how Joan felt, when she came in and found me crying. She said, ‘It hurts me.’ That’s how I feel about you. Please, Jen! It’s all right, really.”

  “Sure? Sure and certain? Righto!” Jen brushed her hand across her eyes. “I won’t howl any more. But I’ve always thought people who hurt other people were the absolute limit, and now I’ve been and done it myself. I feel such an infantile object.”

  “You didn’t mean to do it.” Selma managed to edge in a word. “You didn’t know I’d care. I suppose I was daft to mind so much.”

  “Oh no, you weren’t daft. I ought to have known. And to do it without meaning it is almost worse than meaning it, I think.”

  “Oh no!” Selma cried, shocked. “It’s much worse to do it on purpose. You didn’t do that!”

  “People ought to think how other people will feel and not go dashing about upsetting them. I will be more careful! But I didn’t know you’d mind. You are glad to be here, aren’t you?”

  “I am so!” Selma said fervently. “And Joan’s made me see how hard it was for Angus to ask them and how brave he was to do it.”

  “He was awfully decent,” Jen said thoughtfully. “But then he cares such a lot about you.”

  Selma coloured. “I’m no’ worth it. I’m no’ good enough for him.”

  “Oh, I don’t know! He’ll be jolly lucky, if he gets you.”

  “How do you mean ‘if’?” Selma demanded. “He belongs to me and I belong to him.”

  “Oh, right! Jolly for you both. Are you sure it’s all right—about me, you know? For I’m jolly sleepy. I’ve cried an awful lot, and I don’t often do it.”

  “We’ll both go to bed now. Yes, it is all right, and Joan says so too. She told me to tell you.”

  “Good! That was nice of her. She didn’t want me to worry all night.”

  “Go to sleep!” Selma commanded, and crept away and left her.

  CHAPTER 22

  A PROGRAMME FOR ANGUS

  Both girls were tired and heavy-eyed when they came down next morning. Joy glanced at them, and having heard the story from Joan, she saw how they were feeling. Without comment, she announced that she wanted to run in to Wycombe to buy some music, and she might as well go at once and take them to school in the car.

  “If I’m not there to pick you up at four, you can come home by train,” she said. “But it’s getting too dark for the woods after school. We shall have to begin sending Billy in the old car to fetch you. A good thing we haven’t sold her yet!”

  “Billy’s a jolly fine driver. Thanks a million, Joy!” But though Jen was deeply grateful she sounded subdued; and finding her still in the same mood at tea-time, Joan seized a chance of a private word.

  “Selma isn’t worrying over last night, Jen. Can’t you forget it? You aren’t yourself at all.”

  “I’m worrying,” Jen said candidly. “If you really want to know, I’m sick to death of myself for being such an infant.”

  “Oh, you needn’t feel like that! I don’t think you were an infant.”

  “You do, you know,” Jen assured her. “You’ve been incredibly nice about it, and so has Selma, but it was my fault, for chattering like a kid without thinking. It’s been a bad shock to me. I feel a perfect worm.”

  Joan stifled a laugh. “Don’t let it cloud your life! I don’t care for you like this.”

  “I don’t care for myself. I don’t mind telling you it has upset me a lot.”

  “I can see that,” Joan agreed. “Do cheer up! There’s no harm done. You’ve really helped Selma, for she appreciates Angus better than she did.”

  “She cares a jolly lot about him. I shouldn’t wonder if she’s really and truly in love with him,” Jen said thoughtfully.

  “Never mind that. Forget the whole business, and be Jenny-Wren again! How is she getting on at school?”

  “Jolly well, so far as I can make out. The Head told her to go into the Fifth and see if she could manage the work, so Aileen took charge of her, and they think she’s not too bad. They like her, and they say the way she speaks is so pretty. It is, of course; I’ve thought so all along. We’re used to it, but it’s new to the girls and they rave about it. Her French isn’t up to the Fifth, so she’s coming to us for that. She’ll be all right, Joan. We had dancing in the dinner hour, and I made her join in. She points her toes; she says they always do. But she picks up things quickly; she’ll soon get into our way of dancing, and she’s good at remembering figures.”

  “Give her all the practice you can. Then we’ll have a dance evening, and she’ll look a picture in the yellow frock. Now cheer up and don’t worry any more!”

  “All the same, I hate people who dash about saying unkind things, and I’m one of them. I hoped I wasn’t.”

  “You aren’t,” Joan said promptly. “This wasn’t unkind. It was merely thoughtless.”

  “But that’s always unkind,” and Jen sighed deeply. “D’you remember the time I made Susie Spindle cry herself into measles? But that wasn’t thoughtless; I meant it!”

  “I sympathised with you. It was Susie who had been thoughtless; but she didn’t understand.”

  “It was me this time.” And Jen sighed again.

  “Selma is writing to Angus. I expect she wants to tell him that they have no secret between them now,” Joan said.

  “Angus will love to come for his birthday,” and Selma came to Joan one morning, a few days later, her face radiant. “He can make it all right in Glasgow, and he says you’re the kindest folk he has ever known.”

  “I wonder if he’ll think you’ve changed?” Joan looked at her thoughtfully. “I believe you have. I wonder what Angus will say!”

  “I’ve changed a lot,” Selma said abruptly. “I’m a different person.”

  “In some ways perhaps you are. But you’re still Angus’s Selma. And prettier than ever!” Joan added, but ver
y strictly to herself. “You’re getting on all right at school, aren’t you? Angus will want to hear about it. Do you like the girls?”

  “Oh, aye!—I mean, yes, they’re nice. But there’s one thing I don’t like,” and Selma’s eyes danced.

  “What’s that?”

  “They will call me ‘Selmar’; some of them always do it, though you never do, or Jen. I don’t like to be called Selmarandersson.”

  Joan laughed. “They don’t know they’re doing it. But it’s a pity to have your pretty name spoiled; I sympathise with you! Selmarandersson is rather dreadful, isn’t it?”

  “We’ll take the car to Wycombe to meet Angus,” Joy said, when it was time for him to come. “He’s changed trains in London often enough; he doesn’t need help there. But we’ll go as far as Wycombe.”

  Selma’s excitement grew, as the day drew near. She went about with shining eyes and a lovely eager colour in her cheeks, and Joan suspected that her feeling for Angus was deeper than she had admitted.

  “Just look at Selma’s face!” Jen whispered. “Is it because Angus is coming?”

  “Don’t say anything,” Joan murmured in reply. “She wants to see him terribly much.”

  “She doesn’t talk about him. If I try, she shuts me up by changing the subject.”

  “Leave her alone. Don’t tease her!”

  “All right. I’ll be tactful.”

  And Jen, mindful of other indiscretions, left Angus out of their conversation.

  “Look at Selma Andersson! I’d no idea she was so pretty!” Nesta, the reigning Queen, said to her maid-of-honour Beatrice, or Beetle.

  “Jolly pretty kid,” Beetle agreed. “Wish we could have her in the procession.”

  “If she’s still here by May, you could have her for your maid.”

  “You don’t know that I’ll be chosen,” Beatrice protested.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Nesta assured her. “If only because there’s nobody else.”

  “There’s Jen. Lots of them would like her for Queen.”