The Pillars of the House, V1

by Шарлотта Мэри Йондж

  The autumn was mild, and Mr. Underwood rallied in some measure, so as sometimes even to get to church at mid-day services on warm days.

  It was on St. Andrew's Day that he was slowly walking home, leaning on Felix's arm, with the two elder girls close behind him, when Alda suddenly touched Wilmet's arm, exclaiming, 'There's Marilda Underwood!'

  There indeed was the apparition of Centry Park, riding a pretty pony, beside a large and heavily-bearded personage. The recognition was instantaneous; Marilda was speaking to her companion, and at the same moment he drew up, and exclaiming, 'Edward! bless me!' was off his horse in a moment, and was wringing those unsubstantial fingers in a crushing grasp. There was not much to be seen of Mr. Underwood, for he was muffled up in a scarf to the very eyes, but they looked out of their hollow caves, clear, blue, and bright, and smiling as ever, and something like an answer came out of the middle of the folds.

  'These yours? How d'ye do'-How d'ye do'-Mary, you don't get off till we come to the door!-Yes, I'll come in with you! Bless me! bless me! Mary has been at me ever so many times about you, but we've been had abroad for masters and trash, and I left it till we were settled here.'

  It was not many steps to the door, and there Wilmet flew on prepare her mother and the room, while Alda stood by as her cousin was assisted from her horse by the groom, and the newcomer followed in silence, while Felix helped his father up the steps, and unwound his wraps, after which he turned round, and with his own sunny look held out his hand, saying, 'How are you, Tom? I'm glad to see you-How d'ye do, Mary Alda? we are old friends.-Call your mother, one of you.'

  The mother was at hand, and they entered the drawing-room, where, as the clergyman sank back into his arm-chair, the merchant gazed with increasing consternation at his wasted figure and features.

  'How long has this been going on?' he asked, pointing to him and turning to Mrs. Underwood, but as usual her husband answered for her.

  'How long have I been on the sick list? Only since the end of September, and I am better now than a month ago.'

  'Better! Have you had advice?'

  'Enough to know how useless it is.'

  'Some trumpery Union doctor. I'll have Williams down before you are a day older.'

  'Stay, Tom. Thank you, most warmly, but you see yourself the best advice in the world could tell us no more than we know already. Are you really master of old Centry Underwood? I congratulate you.'

  'Ay. I'm glad the place should come back to the old name. Mrs. Underwood and myself both felt it a kind of duty, otherwise it went against the grain with her, and I'm afraid she'll never take to the place. 'Twas that kept us abroad so long, though not from want of wishes from Mary and myself. The girl fell in love with yours at first sight.'

  'To be sure I did,' said the young lady. 'Do let me see the little ones, and your baby.'

  'Take your cousin to see them in the dining-room, Alda,' said the mother; the order that Alda had been apprehending, for the dining- room was by many degrees more shabby than the drawing-room; however, she could only obey, explaining by the way that little Bernard, being nearly two years old, was hardly regarded as a baby now.

  Wilmet was in effect making him and Angela presentable as to the hands, face, hair, and pinafore, and appeared carrying the one and leading the other, who never having closely inspected any one in a riding-habit before, hung back, whispering to know whether 'that man was a woman.'

  Marilda was in raptures, loving nothing so well as small children, and very seldom enjoying such an opportunity as the present; and the two babies had almost the whole of the conversation adapted to them, till Alda made an effort.

  'So you have been on the Continent?'

  'Oh yes; it was such a horrid bore. Mamma would go. She said I must have French masters, and more polish, but I don't like French polish. I hope I'm just as English as I was before.'

  'That is undeniable' said Felix, laughing.

  'Didn't you care for it? Oh! I should like it so much!' cried Alda.

  'Like it? What, to hear French people chattering and gabbling all round one, and be always scolded for not being like them! There was a poor dog at the hotel that had been left behind by some English people, and could not bear the French voices, always snarled at them. I was just like him, and I got Papa to buy him and bring him home, and I always call him John Bull.'

  'But wasn't it nice seeing places, and churches, and pictures?' asked Geraldine.

  'That was the most disgusting of all, to be bothered with staring at the stupid things. Mamma with her Murray standing still at them all, and making me read it out just like a lesson, and write it after, which was worse! And then the great bare shiny rooms with nothing to do. The only thing I liked was looking at a jolly little old woman that sold hot chestnuts out in the street below. Such dear little children in round caps came to her! Just like that,'-endeavouring to convert her pocket-handkerchief into the like head-gear for Robina.

  'I have always so wanted to come here,' she continued, 'only I am afraid Mamma won't like the place. She says it's dull, and there's no good society. Is there?'

  'I am sure we don't know,' said Wilmet.

  'Lots of people are coming to stay with us for Christmas,' added Marilda, and you must all of you come and have all the fun with us.'

  'Oh, thank you! how charming!' cried Alda. 'If Papa will but be well enough; he is so much better now.'

  'He must come for change of air,' said Marilda. 'You can't think how pleased my father was to hear I had met you. He talked all the way home of how clever your father was, and how wickedly Cousin Fulbert at Vale Leston had served him, and he promised me when I came here I should have you with me very often. I would have written to tell you, only I do so hate writing. This is much better.'

  Marilda seemed to have perfectly established herself among them before the summons came to her; and as the children herded to the door, her father turned round and looked at the boys inquiringly. 'There,' said Mr. Underwood, 'this is Felix, and this is Edgar, sixteen and fourteen.'

  Bless me, what a number, and as much alike as a flock of sheep,' again exclaimed the cousin. 'One or two more or less would not make much odds-eh, Edward?-Mary, what kissing all round?-D'ye know them all?-I'll look in to-morrow or next day, and you'll give me your answer, Edward.'

  They were off, and at Mr. Underwood's sign Felix followed him into the sitting-room, to the great excitement of the exterior population, who unanimously accepted Alda's view, that one of them was going to be adopted. Their notion was not so much out as such speculations generally are, for Mr. Underwood was no sooner alone with Felix and his mother, than he said, 'You are in request, Felix; here's another offer for one of you-the very thing I once missed. What say you to a clerkship at Kedge Brothers?'

  'For one of us, did you say, Father?'

  'Yes; the answer I am to give to-morrow is as to which. You have the first choice.'

  'Do you wish me to take it, Father?'

  'I wish you to think. Perhaps this is the last time I shall have any decision to make for you, and I had rather you should make your own choice; nor, indeed, am I sure of my own wishes.'

  'Then,' said Felix decidedly, 'I am sure I had better not. Edgar would not, and must not, go to my work, there would be nothing coming in for ever so long, and it would be a shame to throw old Froggy over.'

  'I rather expected this, Felix. I told Tom you were in a manner provided for, but when he found you had a turn for business, he was the more anxious to get you.'

  'I've got no turn that I know of,' said Felix rather gloomily; 'but we can't all of us set up for gentlemen, and Edgar is the one of us all that ought to have the very best! Such a fellow as he is! He is sure of the prize this time, you know! I only don't think this good enough for him! He ought to go to the University. And maybe when Mr. Underwood sees-'

  'Not impossible,' said the sanguine father, smiling; 'and, at any rate, to get put in the way of prosperity early may make his talents available. It is odd that hi
s first name should be Thomas. Besides, I do not think your mother could get on without you. And, Felix,' he lowered his voice,' I believe that this is providential. Not only as securing his maintenance, but as taking him from Ryder. Some things have turned up lately when he has been reading with me, that have dismayed me. Do you know what I mean?'

  'A little,' said Felix gravely.

  'I know Ryder would be too honourable consciously to meddle with a boy's faith; but the worst of it is, he does not know what is meddling, and he likes Edgar, and talks eagerly to him. And the boy enjoys it.'

  'He does,' said Felix, 'but he knows enough to be on his guard. There can't be any harm done.'

  'Not yet! Not but what can be counteracted, if-Felix, you cannot guess how much easier it makes it to me to go, that Edgar will not be left in Ryder's hands. As to the younger ones, such things do not come down to the lower forms. And they will be eligible for clergy orphans. Audley spoke of a choristership for Clement in the clergy- house at Whittingtonia. Was there ever such a raising up of friends and helpers? I am glad to have seen Tom Underwood, hearty, kindly- sure to be always a good friend to you all. What did you think of the girl, Felix?'

  'She is a jolly sort of girl,' said Felix; 'not like ours, you know, Father, but not half a bad fellow.'

  Mr. Underwood smiled thoughtfully, and asked, 'Have you seen enough of her to judge how she is brought up?'

  It was treating his son so much more as a friend than as a boy, that Felix looked up surprised. 'I should think her mother wanted to make her no end of a swell,' he said, 'and that it would not take.'

  Mr. Underwood lent back thoughtfully. In truth, his cousin had, in his outburst of affection and remorse at long unconscious neglect, declared his intention of taking home one of the girls to be as a sister to his Mary, and then, evidently bethinking himself of some influence at home, had half taken back his words, and talked of doing something, bringing his wife to see about it, etc.

  And when Mr. and Mrs. Underwood were again alone, they discussed the probabilities, and considered whether if the offer were made they would accept it. Mr. Underwood had only seen his cousin's wife once, in his prosperous days, when he had been at the wedding, and his impression was not that of perfect refinement. There was reason to think from the words of her husband and daughter that there was a good deal of the nouveau riche about her, and Mrs. Underwood did not know how to think of trusting a daughter in a worldly, perhaps irreligious household. But Mr. Underwood was a good deal touched by his cousin's warmth and regret; he believed that the family kept up religious habits; he thought that Providence had brought him friends in this last hour, and his affectionate sanguine spirit would not hesitate in accepting the kindness that provided for another of the children he was leaving. She trusted him as sure to know best; and, after her usual mode, said no more, except 'Wilmet would be safest there.'

  'You could spare her least.'

  'Yes, indeed, it would be losing my right hand; but poor Alda-'

  Poor Alda! but consider if there is not worse evil in keeping her among girls who hurt her, if they do not Wilmet. Beauty and wounded vanity are dangerous in a place like this.'

  'Dangerous anywhere!'

  'Less so in a great house, with that good honest Mary Alda, and Tom, who will look after her in the main, than here, or as a governess, with an inferior education.'

  'It may be so. I know I can spare her better than her sister.'

  'Wilmet is doing something for herself too-as Alda cannot, it seems. Justice settles the point, dearest, as it did between the boys-that is, if we have the offer.'

  Perhaps the mother still had a lurking hope that the offer would not be made. Her instinct was to keep all her brood round her; but, silent and deferential woman that she was, she said nothing and resolved to be thankful for what so eased her husband's mind.

  The handsome carriage tore up to the door, and violet velvet and feathers descended, Mary Alda sprang after, and then came her father, and hampers on hampers of game, wine, and fruits ensued; while Marilda seized on Alda, and turned of herself into the dining-room, bearing a box of sweets. 'Where are the little ones? Little Bobbie, here; and all the rest.'

  Not many calls were needful to bring a flock to share the feast, with cries of joy; but Marilda was not yet satisfied.

  'Where's the other of you?' she said to Alda. 'I don't know you well apart yet.'

  'Wilmet's in the kitchen,' thrust in Lancelot, 'ironing the collars for Sunday.'

  'Lance!' uttered Alda indignantly.

  'Oh! what fun I do let me go down and see! I should so like to iron.'

  'But, Marilda-your Mamma-'

  'Oh nonsense, come along, show me the way. That's right, Robins, only your hands are so sticky. What, down here!-Oh, Wilmet, how d'ye do? what delicious work! do you always do it?'

  'Generally, if Sibby is busy.'

  'Do let me try.'

  And she did try for ten minutes, at the end of which the mother's voice was heard calling for Edgar, who, turning crimson, went upstairs, leaving the others standing about the tidy kitchen, fresh sanded for Saturday.

  What, not you!' said Marilda, pausing in her smoothing operations, and looking at Felix.

  'No,' said he. 'I have got my work.'

  'Oh? don't talk of it,' said Alda. 'I can't bear it. I didn't think he was in earnest, or that Papa would let him.'

  Marilda turned full round. 'What, you won't go and be my father's clerk, and be one of Kedge and Underwood, and make a fortune?'

  Felix shook his head.

  'And what is your work instead?'

  'Printing,' said Felix stoutly. 'It gives present payment, and we can't do without it.'

  Both Marilda's hands seized on his. 'I like you!' she said. 'I wish I were you.'

  They all laughed, and Felix coloured, more abashed than pleased. Lance-to make up for his ignominious rescue at their last meeting- performed a wonderful progress, holding on by his fingers and toes along the ledge of the dresser; and Marilda, setting her back (a broad one) against the ironing-board, went on talking.

  'And do you know what besides?' looking round, and seeing they did not. 'One of you girls is to come and live with me, and be my sister. I wanted to have this little darling Angela to pet, but Mamma wouldn't have her, and I did so beg for Geraldine, to let her have a sofa and a pony carriage! I do want something to nurse! But Mamma won't hear of anybody but one of you two great ones, to learn and do everything with me; and that's not half the use.'

  'But is it really?' cried Alda.

  'Yes, indeed! You'll be had up for her to choose from-that is, if she can. How exactly alike you are!'

  'She won't choose me,' said Wilmet. 'Hark, there's Edgar coming down.'

  Edgar ran in, with orders to the twins to go into the drawing-room. Wilmet hung back. 'I will not be the one,' she said resolutely. 'Let Alda go alone.'

  'No,' said Felix, 'it is what you are told that you've got to do now. Never mind about the rest! Let us all come out of this place.' And it was he who took off his sister's ironing apron as they went up to the dining-room together, while Marilda cried eagerly, 'Well, Edgar?'

  'Well,' said Edgar, not in the enchanted voice she expected; 'it is very good of your father, and what must be must.'

  'Don't you like it!' said Marilda, half hurt; and Edgar, always a boy of ready courtesy, answered, 'Yes, yes, I'm no end of grateful. I'll get rich, and go abroad, and buy pictures. Only I did hope to paint them.'

  'Paint pictures!' cried Marilda. What, rather than be a merchant! do such stupid useless things, only to bother people with having to stare at them, when you could be making money?'

  'There's no reason one should not make money with pictures,' said Edgar; 'but I'd rather make delight! But it can't be helped, and I am very glad to have done with this stupid place.'

  Meantime Wilmet and Alda found themselves before a large, florid, much-dressed lady, with a most good-natured face, who greeted them with 'Good morning, my dears! Jus
t as Marilda told me, so much alike as to be quite romantic. Well, no doubt it is a pity to separate between you, but my Marilda will be a true sister. She has spoken of nothing else. Are you willing, either of you, my dears?'

  'Ay!' chimed in Mr. Thomas Underwood; 'we'll make you happy whichever it is! You shall be in all respects like our own child; Mary would see to that, if we didn't.'

  As to choice,' said the lady, 'there's none that I can see-pretty genteel girls both, that will do us credit, unless it is their own fault. Excellent governess, London masters-you may be assured everything shall be done for her.'

  'Shall we toss up which it shall be?' laughed her husband.

  'No,' said Mr. Underwood gently. 'We think that this one,' laying his hand on Alda's arm, 'will value these advantages, and is not quite such a home-bird as her sister. I hope you will find a grateful good child in Alda Mary, and a kind sister to Mary Alda.'

  The tears came into Alda's eyes, as her father seemed thus making her over; a great rush of affection for all at home, and contempt for Mary Alda in comparison with her own twin, seemed to take away any elation, as Mr. and Mrs. Tom Underwood kissed her, and welcomed her, and declared they should like to take her home at once.

  'You shall have her soon,' said Mr. Underwood. 'Let me keep her for Christmas Day.'

  And for Christmas Day he did keep her, though at the bottom of Alda's heart there were strong hopes of invitations to join the festivities at Centry Underwood. Indeed, such a party was insisted on by Marilda, one that was to include all the little ones, and make them happier than ever they had been in their lives. It was to be on Twelfth Day, but Mrs. Underwood hinted to the twins that they had better not talk to the younger ones about it, for she scarcely believed they would go. She had never before spoken out that conviction which had long crushed her down, and Wilmet's whole soul seemed for the moment scared away by this fresh intimation of the condition in which their father stood; while Alda vehemently repeated the old declaration that he was better. He said he was better. Alas! such a better as it always was.