Despite the painful incidents of Evie's convalescence, Christmas was a
happy season at Erley Chase, for it had always been a tradition of the
household to make much of this festival, and Mrs Chester could not
bring herself to change her habits as the years advanced. Every twenty-
sixth of December Mr Chester would say solemnly, "This is the last
time! I cannot let you wear yourself out like this. When Christmas
cards have to be sent off by the hundred, and presents by the score, it
is time to call a halt, for what has been a pleasure becomes a burden.
Next year you drop these outside people, and think only of our immediate
circle," and Mrs Chester would murmur meekly, "Yes, dear; of course.
Just as you wish," and begin laying in stores for next Christmas at her
first visit to the January sales. There was a cupboard in one of the
spare rooms which was dedicated entirely to the keeping of presents, and
into it went all manner of nick-nacks which were picked up during the
year--bazaar gleanings, in the shape of cushions, cosies, and table-
cloths, relics of travel, and a hundred and one articles useful and
ornamental, which had been bought because they were so cheap, and it
really seemed wicked to leave them lying on the shop counter! When a
need arose, as when a birthday was suddenly remembered the day before it
fell due, or an anniversary suggested the propriety of a little
offering, it was the easiest thing in the world to poke about in the
cupboard until a suitable gift was discovered.
Laura Everett was much amused by this novel way of apportioning
presents, which was so strangely different from that practised at her
own home. When she was wheeled into the morning-room a few days before
Christmas, it was to find a small bazaar of fancy articles spread on
tables and sofas, while Mrs Chester sat checking off the names written
on a long sheet of paper, and Rhoda cried out: "Here's a yellow silk
cushion. Whom do we know who has got a complexion that can bear being
set off against a background of sulphur yellow?" ... "Here's a gorgeous
table centre, quite beautifully worked. Whom do we know who is old-
fashioned enough to use table centres still?" ... "Here's a piece of
Turkish embroidery, which would be the very thing to cover that shabby
old sofa at the Vicarage; it was absolutely in holes the last time I saw
it."
"Turkish embroidery--Mrs Mason. Thank goodness, that's one thing
settled! Wrap it up at once, Rhoda dear. It will be one thing less to
do," cried Mrs Chester in a tone of relief, while Evie held up her
hands in astonishment.
"Of all the extraordinary ways of giving presents! To have a room full
of things and then to puzzle as to whom you can give them! This is
indeed a new experience for me. When we talk over our presents at home
it is to wonder how in the world we can contrive to buy twenty things
for nineteen shillings. Such a wholesale way of managing things I never
imagined in my wildest moments."
She gave a little sigh of envy as she looked at the lavish profusion
which lay around; yet, after all, there was a pleasure in contriving
those simple gifts--in putting in delicate stitches to add to the value
of cheap materials, a triumph in manufacturing something out of nothing,
which Rhoda and her mother could never enjoy! She was not at all sure
that that old home fashion was not the sweeter after all.
While the apportioning of gifts was going on in the morning-room, the
cook and her kitchen maids were busy at work in the great nagged
kitchen, manufacturing all sorts of dainties to be packed away in the
hampers ranged in readiness along the walls. It was a sight to see the
good things laid out on the tables, and Evie was carried down on her
chair to admire and praise with the rest, and to watch the interesting
process of packing. Far and wide these hampers went, carrying good
cheer into many a home where otherwise there would have been scanty
provisions for the day of rejoicing, and bringing unexpected gleams of
sunshine to many an anxious heart. Needless to say, one of the best was
addressed to a country parsonage especially dear to Evie's heart, and
was accompanied by a parcel of presents, which had not been lightly
bought, but worked by loving fingers during long hours of convalescence.
Christmas Day itself was a busy occasion, when the home party had little
leisure to think of themselves, so unending was the stream of pensioners
which came up to the Chase to receive their gifts, and to be fed and
warmed in the gaily-decorated rooms. Dinner was served early, so that
the servants might be free to have their festivities in the evening, and
at nine o'clock all the employees on the estate came up, dressed in
their best, and danced with the servants in the hall. Mr and Mrs
Chester, with Harold and Rhoda, honoured the assembly by joining in the
first dance, and Evie sat in her wheeled chair, looking on and trying to
keep a smiling face, the while she fought one of the mental battles
which seemed to meet her on every step of the road to recovery. She had
been so much occupied grieving over the serious financial loss which her
inability to work would involve, that she had taken little thought of
the pleasures from which she was debarred; but, after all, she was but a
girl, and a girl with a keen capacity for enjoyment, and it was a very
keen pang which went through her heart as she listened to the seductive
strains of the band, and watched the couples glide slowly by. The dark
brows twitched as if in pain, and she drew aside the folds of the pink
tea-gown to cast a longing glance at the little useless feet stretched
before her. A sudden remembrance arose of the day when Rhoda protested
in dismay at the thought of wearing the ugly regulation school shoes,
and of her own confession of love for pretty slippers, of the
satisfaction with which she had donned the same on Thursday evenings,
and danced about the hall as blithely as any one of her pupils. Those
days were over--for ever over; she would never again know the joy of any
rapid, exhilarating motion. She lifted her hand to wipe away a tear,
hoping to escape observation the while, but, to her dismay, Harold stood
by her side, and his eyes met hers with an expression of pained
understanding. Any reference to her infirmity seemed to distress him so
acutely that the first instinct was to comfort him instead of herself,
and she smiled through her tears, saying in the sweetest tones of her
always sweet voice:
"Don't, please! Don't look so sorry! It was babyish of me, but just
for one moment--I was so fond of dancing, you know, and I had never
realised before--"
"Just so. You realise fresh losses every day. I know what you must
feel. You have not been babyish at all, but most brave and heroic."
Evie sighed. "It's nice to be praised, but I feel as if I don't deserve
it. I am not in the least brave at heart... Sometimes I almost dread
getting strong, for then I shall have to face so much... I'm conceited,
too, for I hate the idea of limping, and being stiff and ungraceful. I
thought I did not care for appearance, but I did--oh, a great deal! It
is a humiliating discovery, and I am trying hard to cure myself, but
pride dies slowly! There was a girl at school who was lame. I used to
be so sorry for her, and yet, compared with other misfortunes, it is a
very little thing. I can still move about and use my faculties. It is
not so bad, after all!"
"Yes," said Harold, unexpectedly. "It _is_ very bad. It is a mistake
to pretend to yourself that it is only a small trial, for it's not true,
and the pretence is sure to break down some day, and leave you where you
were. It is a great affliction for people to be crippled, even when
they are old and have lost their energy; but for a girl like you it is
ten times worse. Don't be too hard on yourself, and expect resignation
to come all at once. I believe the best plan is to face it fully, and
to say to yourself, `It's a big test--one of the biggest I could have to
bear. I shall feel the pinch not to-day only, but to-morrow, and the
next year, and as long as I live. It is going to take a big effort to
save myself from growing bitter and discouraged, but it's worth
fighting, for my whole life hangs on the result. If I can succeed--if I
can rise above infirmity, and keep a bright, uncomplaining spirit'--"
He broke off suddenly, and Evie breathed a quick "Yes, yes, I know! I
feel that too. Thank you so much. It is good to talk to someone who
understands. It helps me on."
"Don't thank me. It is like my presumption to venture to preach to you.
But you have helped me so much that when I saw you in trouble I could
not be silent. I was obliged to do what I could."
"I--I have helped you?" repeated Evie, blankly; and a flush of colour
rose in her pale cheeks, which made her look for one moment the happy,
blooming girl of old. "In what way have I ever helped you, or been
anything but an anxiety and care?"
But Harold did not answer, and that was the last chance of a _tete-a-
tete_ conversation that evening, for presently she was carried off to
her own room, and helped into bed, where she lay awake for a long, long
time, staring before her in the twilight, and recalling the lessons of
consolation to which she had just listened. It must surely have been
wonderfully wise, wonderfully true, since it did not so much comfort, as
do away with the very necessity for comfort! She could not delude
herself that she felt sad or despondent, or anything but mysteriously
happy and at rest, as she lay smiling softly to herself in the
flickering firelight.
Two days later came a delightful surprise. Evie and her late pupil were
sitting in the morning-room writing letters of thanks to the many donors
of Christmas presents, when the door opened and shut, and someone walked
into the room. It was such an ordinary, matter-of-fact entrance that
neither of the writers troubled to look up, taking it for granted that
the new-comer was Mrs Chester, who had left the room but a few minutes
before. Two minutes later, however, Evie finished her sheet and lifted
her eyes to make a casual remark, when she promptly fell back in her
chair with a shriek, and a hand pressed over her heart. Rhoda jumped up
in alarm, and then--was it a dream, or did a well-known figure really
lean up against the mantelpiece, in familiar, gentlemanly attitude, a
roguish smile curling the lips, and little eyes alight with mischief?
"Tom, Tom! Oh, Tom, you angel! Where in the world have you come from?"
cried Rhoda, rushing forward with outstretched arms, in a very whirlwind
of welcome. "How perfectly delicious to see you again, and what a
terrific start you gave me!"
"Oh, what a surprise!" chanted Tom easily, rubbing her cheeks as if to
wipe away the kisses pressed upon it, and advancing to greet Evie with a
nonchalance which for once was a trifle overdone, though neither of her
friends was in the least danger of mistaking her real feelings. "The
same to you, and many of them," she continued, sitting down without
waiting for an invitation, and smiling round in genial fashion. "It
really was as good as a play, standing there, and watching you two
scribbling away with faces as solemn as judges--and what a squeal Evie
gave! It made me jump in my skin! Yes; I'm visiting my female
relative, and determined to pay you a visit even if it were only for an
hour. It can't be much longer, for we have a tea fight on this
afternoon, when every spinster in the neighbourhood is coming to stare
at me and deliver her views on higher education. Such a lark! Some of
them strongly approve, and others object, and I agree with each in turn,
until the poor dears are so bamboozled they don't know what to do. They
think I am an amiably-disposed young person, but defective in brains,
and poor aunt Jim gets quite low in her mind, for she wants me to
impress them, and branch off into Latin and Greek as if they came more
naturally to me than English. I wish they did! It takes the conceit
out of one to go up to college and compete with women instead of girls."
"Don't you like it, Tom? Are you happy? Didn't you miss the Manor, and
feel home-sick for the girls and the old school parlour?" queried Rhoda
eagerly, and Tom screwed up her face in meaning fashion.
"Should have done, if I had not kept a tight hand; but you know my
principle--never to worry over what can't be cured! Plenty to bother
oneself about, without that. I thought of you all a great deal, and
realised that I'd been even happier than I knew, and that I disliked
taking a bottom place so abominably that it was plainly the best thing
for me to do. I love power!" sighed Tom, wagging her head in sorrowful
confession, "and that's just what I see no chance of getting again for a
precious long time to come. I haven't much time to grieve, however, for
my poor little nose is fairly worn away, it's kept so near to the
grindstone."
"You look thinner," said Rhoda, truthfully enough. "Poor old Tom, you
mustn't let them wear you out. We will take care of you, at least, so
I'll go and order lunch earlier than usual, if you really must be off so
soon. The three o'clock train, I suppose?"
"Yes, please. Don't worry about anything special for me. Half a dozen
cutlets or a few pounds of steak is all I could eat, I assure you!" said
Tom modestly, and Rhoda went laughing out of the room, leaving her two
friends gazing at one another in an embarrassed silence.
No reference had so far been made to the accident which was the cause of
Evie's presence at the Chase, but it was impossible that the visit
should end in silence, and both instinctively felt that Rhoda's absence
gave the best opportunity for what must be said. The colour came into
Evie's face as she nerved herself to open the painful subject.
"You know, of course, Tom, that I am not going back to Hurst. Miss
Bruce has been most kind, but she must consider the good of the greater
number, and this accident has shown more plainly than ever the necessity
of having a House-Mistress who can job in the games with the girls. I
shall never be any good for a large school again, for, even apart from
the games, the long stairs and corridors would be too trying. So you
see my career is cut off suddenly."
"Yes, I see; I thought of that. It's very interesting!" said Tom in a
dreamy voice, which brought a flush of indignation into Evie's eyes.
"Interesting!" she repeated. "Is _that_ what you call it? It's not the
word I should have used, or have expected from you, Tom, or from any of
my friends."
"No! Perhaps not, but it _is_ interesting all the same, for one is so
curious to see what will happen next. When you have planned out your
life, and fitted in everything towards one end, and then suddenly, by no
fault of your own, that end is made impossible--why, if you believe in a
purpose in things, what could be more interesting and exciting? What
_is_ to happen next? What is one to do? It is like reading a story in
parts, and breaking off just at the critical crisis. I should like to
turn over the pages, Evie, and see what is going to happen to you!"
Evie smiled faintly.
"Would you, Tom? I am afraid I have been hiding my head like an
ostrich, and trying not to look forward, but your view is the healthier,
and I'll try to adopt it. I don't give up all idea of teaching, though
big schools are impossible. Perhaps they would take me at some small,
old-fashioned seminary where sports are considered unladylike, and the
pupils take their exercise in a crocodile up and down the parade."
"Ugh!" said Tom, with a grimace which twisted every feature out of
recognition. "No, surely, Evie, you will never condescend to that! You
lie low for a bit and get strong, and keep up your classics, and I'll
see if I can't find you some coaching to do among the girls I meet. If
you could get along that way for a few years it would be all right, for
I shall be settled by that time and able to look after you. You shall
be my secretary, dear, and have a jolly little den to yourself, where I
can take refuge when the girls get too much for me. We could be very
happy together, you and I, couldn't we, and grow into two nice,
contented old maids, with too much to do to have time to envy our
neighbours?"
She fixed her bright little eyes on Evie's face as she asked the
question, and to her horror and dismay Evie felt the colour rush to her
cheeks and mount higher and higher in a crimson tide which refused to be
restrained by the most desperate mental efforts. How idiotic to blush
at nothing--how senseless, how humiliating, and how quite too ridiculous
of Tom to turn aside and stare at the opposite side of the room in that
ostentatious manner! Evie felt inclined to shake her, but at that
opportune moment Rhoda returned, and during the remainder of Tom's visit
there was no opportunity for private confidences.
Once more Rhoda accompanied her friend to the station, and waited
anxiously for the word which would surely be said concerning the
escapade which had cost so dear, but, like Evie, she was obliged to
introduce the subject herself.
"Have you nothing to say to me, Tom?" she asked wistfully. "I haven't
seen you since--you know when--but, of course, you heard how it
happened. It was all my fault. What are you going to say to me about
it?"
"Why, nothing, Fuzz!" said Tom, turning her little eyes upon the
quivering face with a tenderness of expression which would have been a
revelation to casual acquaintances who believed Miss Bolderston
incapable of the softer emotions. "Why should I? You have said it all
to yourself a hundred times better than I could have done, and who am I
that I should make myself a ruler or a judge over you?"
"But she is lame, you know!" said Rhoda, sadly. "Nurse says the knee is
stronger than she expected, but even so she will always limp. Imagine
Evie limping! She was such a graceful little thing, and tripped about
so lightly, and she was so proud of her little feet--I have spoiled her
future too, for she can never take such a good post again. I have
ruined her whole life."
"We will discuss that point ten years later; it is too early to decide
it yet. Many things happen that we do not expect," remarked Tom sagely,
whereat Rhoda shook her head in hopeless fashion.
"I cannot imagine anything happening that would make this any better--on
the contrary, Tom, it has made me realise how little help one can give,
and what a fraud money is when it comes to the test. I used to imagine
that I could do pretty nearly everything I wanted because I was rich,
but look at Evie! I would give my life to help her, but beyond a few
trumpery presents, and a little lightening of pain, what can I do? She
would not accept more, and one dare not offer it, though if she would
allow it we would be thankful to pension her off for life. Money can't
do everything I see!"
"That's a good thing! Let's be thankful for that, at least. It's worth
something to have learned that lesson," cried Tom cheerily, and for the
rest of the way to the station she talked resolutely on indifferent
subjects, refusing to be drawn back to the one sad topic. Only when the
last good-bye was said did she soften into tenderness, actually allowing
herself to be kissed without protest, and saying hurriedly in a low,
half-shamed voice:
"Good-bye, Fuzzy. Bless you! Never say die. Sometimes, you know, it
takes a big thing to open one's eyes. Keep straight ahead from where
you are now, and you'll have no more tumbles." Then the train moved off
and Rhoda lost the last glimpse of her friend in a mist of tears. Dear
Tom! Dear, blunt, kindly, honest Tom; what a strength she had been to
all who knew her--what a strength she was going to be to generations of
girls to come! Rhoda looked forward into the future and prophesied to
herself that she would know no prouder boast than that she had been one
of Tom Bolderston's girls, and had been brought up under her rule!
That evening the occupants of the drawing-room looked up in amaze as a
rustle of silken garments struck their ears, and a stately young lady
came forward with a fan waving in one hand, and masses of ruddy hair
piled high upon her head. Rhoda, of course; and yet, could it be Rhoda?
for with the short skirts and flowing mane the last traces of childhood
had disappeared, and the woman of the future seemed already to stand
before them. Mr Chester gave a quick exclamation, and Rhoda turned to
him and swept a stately curtsey.
"At your service, sir. I thought you might like to see your grown-up
daughter. My new dress came home to-day, and I looked so fine in it
that I was obliged to do up my hair to be in keeping. And I went to
mother's room and stole her pearls and took her very best fan. When
girls come out they always help themselves to their parents' fineries,
so I thought I had better begin at once. Do you like me, dear?"
She looked up at him, half shy, half laughing, and there was silence in
the room while each of the onlookers felt a thrill of unexpected
emotion. It was like looking on at the turning point in a life, and the
girl was so beautiful in her fresh young bloom that it was impossible to
behold her unmoved. The coiled-up hair showed the graceful poise of her
head, the shoulders were smooth and white as satin, the blue eyes had
lost their hard self-confidence, and shone sweet and true. Yes! Rhoda
was going to be a beautiful woman; she was one already, as her father
realised, with a natural pang of regret mingling with his pride. His
eye softened as he laid his hand on her shoulder.
"Yes, my daughter, you are grown-up indeed! I never realised it before.
You had better prepare for the duties of chaperon, mother, for I
foresee that this young lady will keep us busy. We shall have to take
her about, and entertain her friends, and yawn in the corners while they
dance half through the night. That's it, isn't it, Rhoda?"
Rhoda looked at him with a start of surprise. By tacit agreement
nothing had yet been said of future arrangements, so that this was the
first definite hint which she had received of her parents' intention.
Her voice was half regretful, half relieved, as she said:
"Then I am not to go back to school, father? You have decided that it
is better not?"
Mr Chester put his hands on her arms and looked at her fondly, a
remembrance rising in his mind as he did so of that other evening
eighteen months ago, when the prospect of school had been proposed, and
the girl had taken up the question and settled it out of hand, in
arrogant, youthful fashion. It was a very different tone in which the
present question was asked, and he was quick to note the difference.
"What do you say, mother? She doesn't look very much like a school-girl
to-night, does she? No, Rhoda, I think those days are ended. You have
had a year and a half at school, and it has been a valuable experience
for you in many ways, but both your nerves and ours have been
overstrained lately, and we will not risk any more separations, but try
what travel will do to complete your education. It has always been my
dream to go abroad for a year when you were able to come with us, and
now that time has arrived. We will plan out a tour that shall be both
pleasant and educational, and enlarge our minds by learning something
about other countries besides our own."
"Rome for Easter, the Italian lakes and Switzerland in summer, the
Riviera and Egypt in winter--Oh, father, how lovely! _How_ I shall
enjoy it! How happy we shall be travelling about all together! I could
not have told you what I wanted, but this is the very thing of all
others I should most enjoy. And mother will like it too? It will not
tire you, will it, dear, or worry you to be away from home?"
"My home is where you are. I shall be perfectly happy, dear, so long as
we are together," said the mother, who had never been known to oppose
her own wishes to those of her family; and in this easy fashion the
matter was settled. One moment the project was mooted, the next dates
and routes were being eagerly discussed, and the question of wardrobe
being taken into account. Presently Mr Chester must needs consult the
atlas which was in constant reference in every conversation, and away
went the three in happy conclave to turn over the leaves on the library
table, while Evie was left to look after them with wistful eyes, and
Harold to study her face in his turn. She turned to find his eyes fixed
upon her, and struggled hard to speak brightly.
"They all seem so happy--it is good to see them; and how pretty Rhoda
looks to-night! It is so interesting to see the girls grow up, and come
out as full-fledged young ladies. I've seen two transformations to-
day--Rhoda and Tom!"
"Miss Bolderston? Really! Would you call her a transformation?"
queried Harold, raising his eyebrows with an expression which said all
that he dare not put into words. "If that is a transformation, one is
tempted to wonder what she was like before--"
"Don't!" Evie looked at him pleadingly. "Don't make fun of her,
please, because we love her so dearly. Men don't appreciate Tom, and
she doesn't show her best side to them, but she is a splendid girl, and
the truest of friends. She was so kind to me to-day."
"You were talking to her about your work, and worrying because you could
not go back at once!" said Harold shrewdly, and Evie looked at him under
raised, apologetic eyebrows, quite overcome at being read in so easy a
fashion.
"Well--just a little! I said that I could not go back to Hurst, as I
should not be able to take part in games again--"
"And she sympathised with you, and agreed that it was a desperate lot?"
"No, indeed! You don't know Tom! She is far too much of an optimist to
see the black side. She only said she was interested to see what would
happen next, and that it was like being stopped suddenly in the middle
of a story. I thought it was a very cheerful way of looking at it."
She paused, not caring, for some indefinite reason, to say anything of
that later proposition, in the carrying out of which she and Tom were to
grow old side by side; but the idea lay on her mind, and presently she
added dreamily, "But, even if I _am_ lame, my mind is not affected. I
can teach just as well as ever. There must be an opening for me
somewhere. There are plenty of small schools where they don't go in for
sports, plenty of girls who have to be educated at home--delicate girls,
backward girls, girls who are, perhaps, like myself! I could teach them
still if they would let me try--"
It was a very sweet little voice, and the quiver with which it broke off
sounded strangely pathetic in the silence. Harold did not speak, and
his head was bent forward so that Evie could not see his face. His
hands were clasped and pressed so tightly together that the muscles
stood out under the skin, but presently one of them was stretched
forward and laid pleadingly over her own.
"Dearest and sweetest," said Harold softly; "teach me instead!"
When Rhoda came rushing into the room ten minutes later it was to find
her brother seated by Evie on the sofa, and to meet two pairs of eyes
which tried vainly to look calm and composed, but which were in reality
so brimming over with happiness that the news was told without need of a
single word.
"Oh!" she cried, stopping short and staring in astonishment. "_Oh_!"
and then Evie struggled to her feet and held out wide, welcoming arms.
"Oh, Rhoda, I am never going to be unhappy any more. Harold won't let
me. He is going to help me all my life!"
"She is going to help _me_!" corrected Harold firmly. "I'm the happiest
fellow in the world, Rhoda, and you must be happy too. Come and kiss
your new sister."
Rhoda gave a little sob of joy, and flew into Evie's arms.
"My own sister! And I can take care of you always. I shall have a
right, and you will not have to worry any more, or be anxious, or
troubled. Evie, Evie, you can forgive me now, you can feel that I have
not spoiled your life! You will be happy even if you are lame!"
"Yes, she will be happy--she has found a good man to take care of her!"
said Mrs Chester, coming forward from the background, and taking Evie
into a warm embrace. "My dear child, I thought, I hoped, it might come
to this! Once upon a time I was afraid I might be jealous of Harold's
wife, but not you, dear, not you! That would be impossible. We owe you
too much. You are welcome--a thousand times welcome! I am a rich woman
indeed, for I have two beautiful daughters instead of one!"
Evie dropped her head on the broad, motherly shoulder and shed a tear of
pure happiness and thankfulness.
"Tom was right!" she said to herself softly. "Tom was right--it was too
early to judge! Good has come out of evil!"