"She wants to be one herself," said Vera; "and so she will if she goes on getting learned and faddy."
"In both senses?" said Paula.
Agatha laughed a little, but added, "No, Polly, the thing is that it is hardly kind or right to put that sort of label upon a person like Magdalen-who has done so much for us-and-"
The perverse young hearts could not bear a touch on the chord of gratitude; and Paula burst in, "Label or libel, do you mean?"
"It becomes a libel as you use it."
"Do you want us to call her sister or Magdalen, the whole scriptural mouthful at once?"
"I believe that to call her Magdalen or Maidie, as my father did, would make her feel nearer to us than the formal way of saying 'Sister.'"
"I don't mind about changing," said Paula. "She can never be the same to us as dear Sister Mena."
"She is so tiresome," added Vera. "She bothers so over my music; calling out if I make ever so small a slip, and making me go over all again."
"Well she may," said Paula. "She is making little Tick play so nicely. Just listen! But I can't bear her dragging us off to that horrid old Arnscombe Church and the nasty stuffy Sunday school."
"That reminds me," said Agatha; "Gillian Merrifield met a relation of Mr. Earl's, who said that Miss Prescott had brought quite new life and spirit to the poor old man, who had been getting quite out of heart for want of any one to help and sympathise with him."
"Then he ought to make his services more Catholic," said Paula. "But nothing will wean her from the old parochial idea. Why, she would not let me give my winter stockings to Sister Beata's poor girls, but made me darn them and put them by."
"Yes, and mine, which were bad enough to give away, she made me darn first," cried Vera. "She is ever so much worse than the superlative about mending one's clothes."
"There ought to be another degree of comparison," said Paula,- "Botheratissima!"
"For, only think!" said Vera. "She won't let us have new hats, but only did up the old ones, and not with feathers, though there is such a love at Tebbitts's at Rockstone."
"She says it is cruel," said Paula.
"Cruel to me, I am sure; and what difference does it make when the birds are once killed?"
"Well, she did give us those lovely wreaths of lilies," said Paula.
"Of course, but nothing to make them stylish! What's the good of being out if one is to have nothing chic? And she won't let me have a hockey outfit. She says she must see more of it to be able to judge whether to let us play!"
"That just means seeing whether her dear Merrifields do," said Paula.
"Gillian did at St. Catherine's. But you will know soon. Did I not hear something about a garden party?"
"Oh, yes; she is talking of one, but it will be all swells and croquet, and deadly dull."
"I thought you seemed to be getting on well with the swells, if you mean the Merrifields, especially Wilfred, if that is his name."
"Bil-Bil! Oh, he is all very well," said Vera, "if he would not be always so silly and come after me! As if I cared!"
"And only think," said Paula, "that she was going to have it on the very day that St. Milburga's Guild has their festival! Just as if it was on purpose!"
"Did you ask her to keep clear of your engagements?"
"I told her, but I don't think she listened." And as another grievance suggested itself to Vera, she declared, "And she won't let us join the Girls' Magazine Club, because she saw one she didn't like on somebody's table. As if we were little babies!"
"She won't let us order books at the library, but gets such awfully slow ones," chimed in Paula, "or only baby stories fit for Thekla. She made me return that book dear Sister Mena lent me, because she said it was Roman Catholic."
"And hasn't she got Thomas à Kempis on her table? and I'm sure he was Roman Catholic. There's consistency!"
"You don't understand," began Agatha. "He was a great Saint before the Catholics became so Roman."
"Oh, never mind! It is anything to thwart us," cried Vera. "It is ever so much worse than school."
"But," began Agatha, and the tone of consideration to that one conjunction caused an outburst. "Oh, Nag, Nag, if you are gone over to the enemy, what will life be worth?"
As that terrible question was propounded, in burst Thekla with, "Oh, Nag, Nag, they are cutting the hay in the high torr field, and sister says we may go and see them before I read my French."
"Oh!" cried Vera, with a prolongation into a groan, "is she going to be tiresome?"
"She has come to be quite a don," said Paula; "but never mind, we will soon make her all right again."
The two sisters had to go to their different classes in the afternoon, and wanted Agatha to go with them; but it was a very warm day, and she preferred resting in the garden, and, to Magdalen's surprise and pleasure, conversation with her. At first it was about Oxford matters, very interesting, but public and external to the home, and it did not draw the cords materially closer; but when Thekla had privately decided that even hanging upon the newly recovered Nag was not worth the endurance of anything so tedious, and had gone off to assist her beloved old gardener in gathering green gooseberries, Magdalen observed that she was a very pleasant little pupil, and was getting on very well, especially with arithmetic.
"That was the strong point in the junior classes," said Agatha; "better taught than it was in my time."
"I wish she could have more playfellows," said Magdalen. "She would like to go to the High School at Rockquay, but there are foundations I should wish to lay before having her out of my own hands."
"I should think you were her best playfellow. She seems very fond of you, and very happy."
"Yes," said Magdalen, rather wistfully. "I think she generally is so."
"Maidie! may I call you by the old home name?" And as Magdalen answered with a kiss and tearful smile, "Do tell me, please, if Polly and Flapsy are nice to you?"
Magdalen was taken by surprise at the pressure of the hand and the eyes that gazed into her face full of expression.
She could not keep the drops from rushing to her own eyes, though she smiled through them and said, "As nice as they know how."
"I am afraid I know what that means," said Agatha.
"If I only knew how to prevent their looking on me as their governess," continued Magdalen; "but I must have got into the groove, and I suppose I do not always remember how much must be tolerated if love has to be won; and Paula is a thoroughly good girl."
"Yes, I am sure she wishes to be," said Agatha. "Are those Sisters nice that she talks of so eagerly?"
"They are very excellent women, but somehow I should have had more confidence in them if they were not unattached, or belonged to some regular Sisterhood. I wish she had taken instead to Mysie Merrifield, who is more of my sort; but no one can control those likings."
"I don't think Gillian very attractive; she is so wrapped up in her work," confessed Agatha.
"You will see them all, I hope, for I am giving a garden party next week, perhaps. Have not they told you?"
"Oh, yes; but Polly seemed bent on its not clashing with some festival at St. Kenelm's."
"Therefore I had not fixed the day till I had heard what is settled. I have invited people for Thursday, which will hardly interfere."
"Did you know that the young man who is painting the ceiling at St. Kenelm's Church is old Mr. Delrio's son Hubert?"
"Indeed! Is he staying here? We must ask him to come up to luncheon or to tea. I am glad he is doing so well. I heard Eccles and Beamster were to do the decorations; I suppose they employ him. I should think it was a very good line to get into."
This was on a Friday; and the next day Magdalen proposed driving down in the cool of the evening to see the decorations at St. Kenelm's and their artist; but it turned out that he was gone to spend Sunday at the Cathedral city, and all that could be done was to admire the designs, and listen to Paula's enthusiastic explanation.
Magdalen consul
ted Agatha whether to send young Delrio a card for the garden party; but they decided that it was too late for an invitation to be sent, though a spoken one might have been possible. Besides, it was not likely to be pleasant to a stranger who knew no one but the Flights and Hendersons, and those professionally. Agatha told her sisters, and with one voice they declared that they would not see him patronised; while Agatha's acute senses doubted whether Vera's objection was not secretly based on the embarrassment of a double flirtation with him and with Wilfred Merrifield.
Indeed, Vera told her gaily: "Only think, Nag, I did have a jolly ride on the M.A.'s bike after all."
"Indeed! Then she lent it to you."
"Not she! But she and the little kid were safe gone to Avoncester, and Paula was with her dear Sisters, so Will and I took a jolly spin along the cliff road; and it was such screaming fun. Only once we thought we saw old Sir Jasper coming, and we got behind a barn, but it turned out to be only a tripper, and we had such a laugh."
"Paula does not know?"
"What would be the good of telling her, with her little nun's schoolgirl mind? She would only make no end of a fuss about a mere bit of fun and nonsense."
"I think if Wilfred Merrifield was afraid to meet his father, it showed a sense of wrong."
"Sir Jasper is a horrid old martineau, who never gives them any peace at home, but is always after them."
"A martinet, I suppose you mean. I don't think that makes it any better. I should not be happy till Magdalen knew."
"Why, no harm was done! There's her precious machine all safe! It was just for the fun of the thing, and to try how it goes. One can't be kept in like a blessed baby! She never has guessed it. That's the fun of it."
"I would not return her kindness in such an unladylike way when she is trusting you, Vera."
Did Magdalen know what had been done? She did guess, for there was a mark on the wheel that she did not remember to have known before, and it cost her a bitter pang of mistrust; but she abstained from inquiries, thinking that they might only do harm. But she bought a chain for her bicycle; and Agatha felt more shame than did Vera, who tried to believe herself amused by her tacit sense of emancipation.
CHAPTER X-FLOWN
"Till now thy soul hath been all glad and gay,
Bid it arise and look on grief to-day."
ADELAIDE PROCTOR.
There was a Guild at St. Kenelm's which was considered by the promoters to be superior to the Girls' Friendly Society, and which comprised about a dozen young women, who attended classes held by Sister Beata, and occasional modest entertainments given by Lady Flight.
One of these was to take place the day before Miss Prescott's garden party. It was to be given at Carrara, the very pretty grounds on the top of the cliff, belonging to Captain Henderson, the managing partner in the extensive marble works of Mr. White, who lived at Rocca Marina, in the Riviera. Mrs. Henderson had resided in Mr. Flight's parish, and been a member of his congregation, and while he was absent for a day or two she had put her garden at the service of the Guild of St. Milburga's for the day.
Of course Vera and Paula were delighted to assist; but Thekla was too young for the amusements of grown-up maidens, and was much better pleased to help her two elder sisters in preparations for the next day, placing tennis nets, arranging croquet hoops, mustering chairs by the verandah, and adorning tables with flowers. Agatha's assistance was heartily given, as making it her own concern, and, for that reason above all others, it was a happy day, though a very tiring one, to Magdalen, in spite of the sultry atmosphere and the sight of lurid-looking clouds over the moors, which did not augur well for the next day's weather, and caused all the arrangement of chairs and rugs to be prudently broken up and deposited under the verandah.
This was done, and the evening meal had been taken, and Thekla had gone to bed before some flashes of lightning made the two sisters wish to see the other pair at home, especially as Vera was much afraid of lightning, and Paula apt to be made quite ill by it.
The storm rolled on, bringing violent gusts of wind and hail, though not at the very nearest, and such a hurricane of wind and rain ensued that the two watchers concluded that the two girls must have been housed for the night by some of the friends at Rock Quay, and it was near midnight, when just as they had gone to their rooms, a carriage was heard ascending the hill, and they had reached the door before Paulina sprang out with the cry, "Is she come home?" Then at sight of the blank faces of dismay, she seized hold of Agatha's hands and began to sob. Mr. Flight had stepped out of the car at the same moment, and answered the incoherent questions and exclamations.
"Young Delrio offered to take photographs of the party, and that was the last time she was seen."
"Yes," sobbed Paula, "Sister Mena saw her there. We were trying to get up croquet, and then I missed her. I tried to find her when the lightning began, but I could not find her anywhere, though I looked in all the summer-houses!"
"At Mrs. Henderson's? or Miss Mohun's? or the Sisters'?" asked Magdalen, catching alarm from each denial. "She might have gone home with one of the girls."
"She would be wild in such a storm," said Agatha, "and not know what she was about."
"Sister Beata and I have gone to each house," said Mr. Flight.
"When did you say you saw her last?"
"I saw her when we were grouped," said Paula; "Sister Mena, when she was helping him to put up his photos."
"The strange thing is," said Mr. Flight, "though no doubt it will be explained, that Delrio is missing too."
"Hubert Delrio!" exclaimed Agatha. "Impossible! He must have taken her into the church to be out of the storm."
"We have tried," said the clergyman. And as the round of suggestions began to be despairingly reiterated, he said, hesitating, "Miss Mohun told me that she thought she had seen a boat, Captain Henderson's, she believed, in the cave with some one rocking in it; and certainly that little boat was there, when on the hope, if it can be called a hope, I ran down the steps to look."
"Would it not have been put into the boathouse out of the rain?" said Agatha.
"The gardener was gone home, out of reach round the point, but we shall know to-morrow."
"He thinks they may have rowed out and been caught in the storm," cried Paula, bursting into fresh weeping; and Magdalen saw the conjecture confirmed by Mr. Flight's countenance.
"I am afraid it is the least distressing-the least unsatisfactory idea," said he, in much agitation. "I thought Mr. Delrio an excellent young man; and she," indicating his companion, "tells me you know him and his family well."
"Oh, yes," said Agatha and Magdalen in one breath. "We have known his father all our lives. Nothing can be more respectable."
"And Hubert is as steady and good as possible," continued Agatha. "His mother used to come to Mrs. Best and praise him, till we were quite tired of his name; I am sure he is all right."
"Or I should be much deceived in him," said the clergyman.
Yet there was an idea in Paulina's mind. Could Vera have poured out such an exaggerated tale of oppression and unhappiness as to have induced her old playfellow to carry her off to his mother at Filsted? She had given some such hint to Mr. Flight on the way; but he had not seemed to hear or attend, and he was now promising to let the sisters know as soon as possible in the morning whether anything had been discovered, and to telegraph to Filsted and to the office in London if he should see occasion.
Then he drove off, in what would have been almost daylight but for the pelting of the storm; and after a vain attempt to make Paula swallow some nourishment, Magdalen thought it kinder to let Agatha carry her off to bed, and then she confessed, what really gave a certain hope, that the pair had been in the habit of murmuring against "sister" so much that, considering poor Vera's propensity to strong language, it was quite possible that Hubert might think her cruelly oppressed, and for a freak carry her off to his mother to be consoled.
Agatha tried to believe it, for the sake of hush
ing the exhausted Paula, who almost went into hysterics, as she laughed at the notion of to-morrow's telegram that Vera was safe at Filsted; and then allowed herself to be calmed enough to sleep, while Agatha revolved the notion, but found herself unable seriously to believe, that sufficient grievance could be brought against sister to induce any man in his senses to take such a step. But then Paula had inferred that he was a lover, and Agatha did not know of what lovers might be capable, and she could not but blame herself for not having given more importance to the semi-confidences of her sisters on the first day of her arrival. It was all misery; and the two poor girls could find no solace in the morning, save in talking to Magdalen, though that involved the confession of all the murmurs against her, the distrust of her kindness, and the explanation of the interviews, which, as far as Paula had ever witnessed them, were absolutely harmless, the only pity being in their concealment.
Magdalen was manifestly as wretched as they, or even more so, being convinced of her own shortcoming in not having won the affection or confidence that would have made all open between them. She could not understand why Hubert Delrio should not have been made known to her.
"We thought," said Paula, "we thought you might not think him enough -enough-of a gentleman for your sort of society."
"I think you might have trusted me to know what was due to an old friend," said Magdalen "but, oh, I ought to have made you feel that we could think together."
"Perhaps," said Agatha, "there was a little consciousness on poor dear Vera's part that she did not want you to know the terms she was on."
They had tried only to let Thekla know that they were much alarmed because Vera had gone out in a boat and not returned. It was observable that, on the principle that where there is life there is hope, Paula clung to the notion that Vera's having fled to Filsted; while the two elder sisters, perhaps because they better knew what such a flight might seem to others, would almost have preferred to suppose there had been a fatal accident in the midst of youthful, innocent sport.
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