"Yes, she must go to school!" repeated Mr Chester.
A plaintive sob greeted his words from the neighbourhood of the sofa.
For once in her life Mrs Chester's kindly, good-tempered face had lost
its smiles, and was puckered up into lines of distress. She let one
fat, be-ringed hand drop to her side and wander restlessly over the
satin skirt in search of a pocket. Presently out came a handkerchief,
which was applied to each eye in turn, and came away bedewed with tears.
"It will break my heart to part from her!" she faltered. Her husband
laughed with masculine scepticism.
"Oh, nonsense, dear," he said; "hearts are not so easily broken. You
are too sensible to grieve over what is for the child's good, and will
get used to the separation, as other mothers have done before you. It
will be the making of Rhoda to leave home for a few years, to mix with
other girls, and find her level. She is getting an altogether
exaggerated idea of her own importance!"
"Her level, indeed! Find her level! I should like to know the school
where you could find another girl like her!" cried the mother, in a tone
which showed plainly enough who was responsible for Miss Rhoda's
conceit. The tears dried on her face for very indignation, and she sat
upright in her seat, staring across the room.
It was a gorgeous apartment, this drawing-room of Erley Chase, the
residence of Henry Chester, Esquire, and Marianne his wife; a gorgeous
room in the literal acceptance of the term, for each separate article of
furniture looked as if it had been chosen more from the fact of its
intrinsic value than for its usefulness or beauty.
Mr Chester, the son of a country clergyman, had considered himself
passing rich when a manufacturer uncle took him into his employ, at a
salary of £400 a year. The first thing he did after this position was
assured was to marry his old love, the daughter of the village doctor,
with whom he had played since childhood; and the young couple spent the
first dozen years of their married lives very happily and contentedly in
a little house in a smoky manufacturing town. The bachelor uncle was
proud of his clever nephew and fond of the cheery little wife, who was
always kind and thoughtful even when gout and a naturally irritable
temper goaded him into conduct the reverse of amiable. When Harold was
born, and christened after himself, he presented the child with a silver
mug, and remarked that he hoped he would turn out better than most young
men, and not break his parents' hearts as a return for their goodness.
When Jim followed, the mug was not forthcoming; but when little Rhoda
made her appearance six years later he gave her a rattle, and trusted
that she would improve in looks as she grew older, since he never
remembered seeing an uglier baby. He was certainly neither a gracious
nor a liberal old gentleman, but the young couple were blessed with
contented minds and moderate ambitions, so they laughed good-naturedly
at his crusty speeches, and considered themselves rich, inasmuch as they
were able to pay their way and were spared anxiety for the future. And
then an extraordinary thing happened! The old man died suddenly, and
left to his beloved nephew a fortune which, even in these days of
millionaires, might truthfully be called enormous. Henry Chester could
not believe the lawyers when the amount of his new wealth was broken to
him, for his uncle had lived so unostentatiously that he had had no idea
of the magnitude of his savings. The little wife, who had never known
what it was to spend sixpence carelessly in all her thirty-five years,
grew quite hysterical with excitement when an arithmetical calculation
proved to her the daily riches at her disposal; but she recovered her
composure with wonderful celerity, and expressed her intention of
enjoying the goods which the gods had sent her. No poking in gloomy
town houses after this! No hoarding of riches as the poor old uncle had
done, while denying himself the common comforts of life! She herself
had been economical from a sense of duty only, for her instincts were
all for lavishness and generosity--and now, now! Did not Henry feel it
a provision of Providence that Erley Chase was empty, and, as it were,
waiting for their occupation?
Her husband gasped at the audacity of the idea. Erley Chase! the finest
place around, one of the largest properties in the county, and Marianne
suggested that he should take it! that he should remove from his fifty-
pound house into that stately old pile! The suggestion appalled him,
and yet why not? His lawyer assured him that he could afford it; his
children were growing up, and he had their future to consider. He
thought of his handsome boys, his curly-headed girl, and decided proudly
that nothing was too good for them; he looked into the future, and saw
his children's children reigning in his stead, and the name of Chester
honoured in the land. So Erley Chase was bought, and little Mrs
Chester furnished it, as we have seen, to her own great contentment and
that of the tradespeople with whom she dealt; and in the course of a few
months the family moved into their new abode.
At first the country people were inclined to look coldly on the new-
comers, but it was impossible to keep up an unfriendly attitude towards
Mr and Mrs Chester. They were utterly free from affectation, and, so
far from apeing that indifference to wealth adopted by most _nouveaux
riches_, were so frankly, transparently enchanted with their new
possessions that they were more like a couple of children with a new toy
than a steady-going, middle-aged couple. They won first respect, and
then affection, and were felt to be a decided acquisition to the well-
being of the neighbourhood, since they were never appealed to in vain in
the cause of charity.
In the days of her own short means, when she had been obliged to look
helplessly at the trials of her neighbours, Mrs Chester had solaced
herself by dreaming of what she would do if she had money and to spare,
and to her credit be it said, she did not forget to put those dreams
into execution when the opportunity arose. The days are past when fairy
godmothers flash suddenly before our raptured eyes, clad in spangled
robes, with real, true wings growing out of their shoulders, but the
race is not dead; they appear sometimes as stout little women, in satin
gowns and be-feathered bonnets, and with the most prosaic of red,
beaming faces. The Chester barouche was not manufactured out of a
pumpkin, nor drawn by rats, but none the less had it spirited away many
a Cinderella to the longed-for ball, and, when the Prince was found, the
fairy godmother saw to it that there was no lack of satin gowns, or
glassy slippers. Dick Whittingtons, too, sitting friendless by the
roadside, were helped on to fortune; and the Sleeping Beauty was rescued
from her dull little home, and taken about to see the world. It is
wonderful what fairy deeds can be accomplished by a kind heart and a
full purse, and the recipients of Mrs Chester's bounty were relieved
from undue weight of obligation by the transparent evidence that her
enjoyment was even greater than their own!
Harold went to Eton and Oxford, and Jim to Sandhurst; but Rhoda stayed
at home and ruled supreme over her mother, her governesses, and the
servants of the establishment. Her great-uncle's wish had been
fulfilled, inasmuch as she grew up tall and straight, with a mane of
reddish-gold hair and more than an average share of good looks. She was
clever, too, and generous enough to have acknowledged her faults if it
had for one moment occurred to her that she possessed any; which it had
not. It was one of Mrs Chester's articles of faith that her daughter
was the most beautiful, the most gifted, and the most perfect of created
beings, and Rhoda agreeably acquiesced in the decision, and was pitiful
of other girls who were not as herself. Every morning when she had not
a headache, and did not feel "floppy" or "nervey," she did lessons with
Fraulein, who adored her, and shed tears behind her spectacles when
obliged to point out a fault. Then the two would repair together to the
tennis courts and play a set, the pupil winning by six games to love; or
go a bicycle ride, when Rhoda would practise fancy figures, while her
good, but cumbersome, companion picked herself up from recumbent
positions on the sidewalk, and shook the dust from her garments. At
other times Rhoda would put on her riding habit and go a ride round the
estate, taking care to emerge from the west gate at the moment when the
village children were returning from school. The little girls would
"bob" in old-fashioned style, and the boys would pull off their caps,
and Rhoda would toss her flaxen mane and acknowledge their salutations
with a gracious smile and a wave of the little gloved hand. The
children thought she looked like a fairy princess, and no more dreamt
that she was of the same flesh and blood as themselves than did Miss
Rhoda herself. Then came lunch, and more often than not some excuse for
getting off the hour's lessons with Fraulein before the "visiting
professors" arrived. Music master, drawing master, French master--they
each came in their turn, and Rhoda exerted herself to do her best, as
she invariably did, given the stimulus of an audience, and was praised
and flattered to her heart's desire. It was a happy life, and most
satisfactory from the girl's point of view; so that it seemed most
annoying that it should be interrupted, and by Fraulein too, who had
always been so meek and tractable! Who could have imagined when she
went home for the summer holidays that an old love would appear and
insist upon marrying her out of hand?
"But what am _I_ to do?" cried Rhoda, when the news was first received;
and then, in stern disapproval, "I'm _surprised_ at Fraulein! At her
age she should know better. She always professed to be so devoted. I
can't understand how she could make up her mind to leave me."
"It must have been a terrible trial to her, dearest," said Mrs Chester
soothingly, and she meant what she said. How could any one prefer a
fat, long-haired, spectacled lover (all Germans were fat, long-haired,
and spectacled!) to her beautiful, clever daughter? She sighed, once
for Rhoda's disappointment, and once again, and with an added stab, for
herself.
Several times lately Mr Chester had hinted that Rhoda was getting too
much for Fraulein, and should be sent to school, while Harold had
treacherously seconded his father with remarks of such brotherly candour
as made his mother hot with indignation. Jim was mercifully away from
home, but even so it was two against one, and she instinctively felt
that Fraulein's defection would be seized upon by the enemy and the
attack pressed home upon the first opportunity. And now it had come,
and there sat the poor, dear soul, shedding tears of anguish on her
lace-edged handkerchief, as she vainly tried to oppose the inevitable.
"I cannot, and will not, part from my child!"
"Nonsense, mother, you parted from me, and I shall take it as a personal
insult if you insinuate that you would feel Rhoda's absence more than
you did mine. Remember how delighted you were when I came back!
Remember the holidays, how happy you were, how interested in all I had
to tell!"
Harold Chester crossed the room, and laid his hand on his mother's
shoulder with a kindly gesture. He looked as if he were made on the
same principle as the other objects of _vertu_ in the room, and if Mrs
Chester had desired to possess "the most superfine specimen of sons and
heirs," she had certainly got her wish, so far as appearances were
concerned. Harold was tall and fair, with aquiline features and a manly
carriage. His hair would have curled if it had not been cropped so
close to his head; his clothes were of immaculate cut. At twenty-five
he was known as one of the most daring sportsmen in the county, and if
he had not distinguished himself at college, he had, at least, scrambled
through with the crowd. His mother declared with pride that he had
never given her an hour's anxiety since he had had the measles, and
thanked Heaven for her mercies every time she saw him ride off to the
hunt in his beautiful pink coat. Harold was her first-born darling, but
Rhoda was the baby, and she could not bring herself to believe that her
baby was growing up.
"The child will fret and break her heart. I don't care about myself,
but I will not have her made unhappy. She has such a sensitive heart!"
She sobbed as she spoke, and Harold laughed.
"You trust me, mater; Rhoda is as well able to take care of herself as
any girl can be. You will regret it all your life long if you keep her
at home now. School is what she needs, and school she must have, if she
is to make a woman worth having. She is a jolly little soul, and I'm
proud of her; but her eyes are so taken up admiring Miss Rhoda Chester
that she has no attention left for anything else. Let her go, mother,
and find out that there are other girls in the world beside herself!"
"But the other girls will b-b-bully her. They will make fun of her and
laugh at her little ways--"
"And a good--" Harold checked himself and said cheerily: "Rhoda won't
let herself be bullied without knowing the reason why, mother. Whatever
faults she may have, no one can accuse her of lack of spirit. I believe
she would like to go. She has very few girl friends, and would enjoy
the new experience."
"We will tell her about it, and see what she says," said Mr Chester;
and at that very moment the door opened and Rhoda walked into the room.