FASTING AND FEASTING.
MRS. BURFORD felt very angry indeed as she left Lint Hall and its
present mistress.
"The dreadful old screw," she said to herself, "not to offer me even a
cup of tea, when she knew that I should be so tired before I reached
home. Nothing is so wearying as shopping, especially for a girl who
does not appear to care a straw about her outfit. However, her going is
a settled thing, and her escort too, for Dorothy Flint can be trusted
to take care of Nelly. And there will be no chance of young Simpson's
exchanging a farewell word with her when those keen eyes are watching,
even if they should go from our own station."
Mrs. Burford knew so much about Miss Flint's views on the subject
of afternoon tea that she could hardly have expected an offer of
refreshment in that shape, though it might have come in some other way,
and, indeed, ought to have done.
"I despise the everlasting tea-fuddling that goes on now-a-days," Miss
Flint was accustomed to remark. "People are for ever poking their
teapots under one's nose, as if it were impossible to have too much
of a good thing. Tea is good in its way, and at proper times, but now
every chit of a girl must have her afternoon tea, even when it will
come in as her regular meal an hour later. She takes what she does not
want, because, forsooth! it is fashionable. I decline to lend myself
to such fashions, which only benefit persons who need a refreshing cup
of tea between luncheon and eight o'clock dinner. If callers expect
afternoon tea here, they will be disappointed."
Mrs. Burford was, however, very angry at Miss Flint's scant hospitality.
"She has spent weeks with us, and been treated to the best of
everything, yet would not give me a cup of tea. It is like her
meanness, for she knows we dine late and need the cup of tea."
By this time Mrs. Burford had reached a confectioner's, where she
obtained refreshment, but whilst taking it, thought still of Miss
Flint's discourtesy, and said to herself—
"I wonder I bear with her so patiently as I do."
Mrs. Burford felt quite virtuous as she made this mental remark,
never considering that her motives for bearing with Miss Flint's
peculiarities, would ill bear looking into.
The door had closed behind her mother before Nelly made her appearance,
carrying Miss Flint's cap.
"You have brought down twice as many hairpins as I ever use at once,"
said that lady.
"I know that," replied Nelly. "But you had better put more pins in it,
then your cap will not be so often twisted to one side."
"What do you mean, you saucy child?" asked Miss Flint, with a severe
look at the girl, who returned a fearless one as she replied—
"Just what I said. When you were at our house, I was always longing
to straighten your cap and give you a general tidying-up, as I do the
mother sometimes—when she is in a very good humour, you know, and will
submit to such interference."
"Why did you not tell me mine was all wrong? And how dare you meddle
with my head-gear now any more than of old?" inquired the spinster.
"I was afraid of offending you then. Besides, I had not heard you
remark, as you did to my mother a while ago, that it is not good to set
an example of untidiness to the rising generation."
There was a twinkle in Nelly's eyes as she spoke that would have
horrified Mrs. Burford, and there was an answering twinkle in Miss
Flint's as she resigned herself to being tidied by the deft hands of
the girl.
"There now," said Nelly as she adjusted a crumpled bow of ribbon, "see
how nice you look;" and she gave Miss Flint's head a gentle turn in the
direction of the mirror.
"Almost nice enough to—"
Miss Flint paused, and Nelly added—
"Quite nice enough to kiss always;" and, flinging her arms round the
spinster's neck, she gave her a thorough girlish hug and a little
shower of kisses.
"Not given to order, thank God!" murmured Miss Flint, in too low a tone
for Nelly to hear. She could not see her face either, for Miss Flint
went suddenly out of the room, bidding the girl stay where she was. She
was back almost directly, carrying a light basket, in which, nestling
in vine-leaves, lay glorious bunches of black Hamburgs and white
Muscats and peaches that filled the room with perfume.
"Now we will enjoy ourselves," she said.
And truly they did, using the glorious green leaves, instead of
dessert-plates, to hold fruit and sugar, and peeling the peaches in
turns with a small silver knife which Miss Flint produced from a
capacious wallet beneath her gown-skirt, and which she called a pocket.
"Not like those pockets which dressmakers have planned to accommodate
thieves, Nelly," remarked the spinster complacently. "I keep to a more
sensible fashion, and follow my grandmother's example. She never had
her pocket picked, and I shall not, though where she travelled a mile,
I have journeyed a thousand. You and I are going to Germany together in
a fortnight, Nelly. I am to chaperone you. What do you think of that,
child!"
"If I must go, I would rather travel with you than with any one else.
But I am very sorry to go at all. It is just to get me right away from
Oakhill, and I am sure my father does not wish it, but he gives in for
the sake of peace. Mother is sure to get her own way. I know how it
will be. I am to come home during the summer holidays, and then it will
not be to my real home, but to some seaside place, where they will all
be spent, and then I shall be sent back." And these words were followed
by a sound very like a sob from Nelly.
"Nelly, child, give your undivided attention to one thing. I thought we
were going to enjoy ourselves, and yet you are neglecting your peach,
spoiling the flavour of mine, and whimpering into the bargain. I am
ashamed of you."
"Forgive me, Miss Flint," said Nelly, wiping her eyes; "I ought not to
trouble you with these things."
"Certainly not. You should take the good that is before you, and
be thankful, instead of going in fancy, all the way to Germany for
something to worry over. I did not keep you here to pull a long face,
but to eat peaches and praise the flavour of Lint Hall grapes, which
are a credit to old Cartwright. If you neglect your opportunities, I
shall wish I had bestowed them on your mother."
Nelly accordingly steadied the lips which were beginning to quiver, and
having come to the mental conclusion that she must not expect too much
sympathy from Miss Flint, devoted herself to the business in hand in a
manner to satisfy her hostess.
Miss Flint detained Nelly as late as she dared, and alternately made
her laugh by her amusing criticisms of persons and things, or angry by
levelling caustic remarks at friends of her own. Before it was quite
dark, Jane Cartwright was summoned, and Nelly sent home under her
convoy, and with the rush-basket replenished with grapes and peaches.
There were two ways by which the girl could reach home from Lint Hall,
and one of them led past my humble lodgings at Jabez Harwood's. There
was not much difference in length between the two, but, if anything,
the latter was the longer.
Nelly did not consult Jane, but resolutely took the road past the
cottage. When near it, she heard the sound of my piano, and lingered to
listen, unchecked by her companion. Indeed Jane was only too willing to
follow Nelly's example, and when the girl looked up, she noticed that
the woman had a handkerchief to her eyes.
"It's hard for the young master as should have been," whispered
Jane, who had nursed me as a baby, and had stood by my mother's
deathbed—"hard to think of him being here, and her up at Lint Hall. It
just breaks my heart when I see Miss Flint sitting over the fire in my
old mistress's room, and caring nothing about the place, except just
for a few nights' lodging now and then. And to think how things might
be, if she could bear to use some of the money that does no good to any
living soul. Seeing that the young master is the only relative she has,
why couldn't she have adopted him, and made Lint Hall a home for both
of them? But she never will. She cannot spare him a good word. I never
can think what makes her so bitter against Mr. John, except it is her
contrariness, and because everybody else likes him."
"Not quite everybody, Jane," said Nelly, with a sigh. "My father does,
but my mother has never liked Jack since he became so poor. He is as
dear and good—no, he is better than ever; for he bears poverty bravely,
and shows himself a true gentleman, in spite of all the changes he has
had to face. My grandfather Burford likes Jack. He said, even when my
mother was present, that he truly respected the lad. He might be only
a poor clerk at a railway station, but he deserved all honour for the
brave way in which he had faced his position, stayed amongst those who
had looked on him as heir to Lint Hall, and performed his duties in the
humble place he now filled, as remembering a higher Master than his
earthly employers. This is what he said about Jack, too—
"'It is just beautiful to see how that young man shows his fine
breeding, by his courtesy and kindness to the poorest travellers on
the line, and his sense of duty to those who pay him wages, by giving
them of his very best in return. Talk of Jack's misfortune in having
come down in the world! It will make him a better man than he would
otherwise have been. The lad will rise, whoever lives to see it; and in
the meanwhile, he can look the world in the face, as one who deserves
well of it.'"
Jane Cartwright and Nelly were standing in the shadow of the house,
and the woman's tears fell as she listened to the words which the girl
delighted to repeat.
"Ah, Miss!" she replied. "It does me good to know that your grandpa
stands up for the young master. You and he used to be such friends,
Miss, but I suppose he is not asked to your house now."
Jane was affectionate and faithful to her old employer's family, but
not judicious, or she would not have alluded to the change wrought in
Mrs. Burford's conduct to myself, with Nelly as a listener.
"No, my mother will not invite Jack, and I never see him except we pass
each other in the street, which is very seldom. I should like to leave
this fruit for him. See, Jane, the windowsill is broad; I can lay some
leaves on it, put the grapes and peaches on them, and the other leaves
over them. You could go on a little way, and I would give a gentle tap
at the window, and then run after you. We should be out of sight before
anybody could get round to this window."
"Bless you, my dear Miss Nelly, there is no call for you to leave this
fruit for Mr. John; you may trust us to look after him. He will never
be without a share of Lint Hall fruit, according to the seasons, so
long as Cartwright has the gardens," replied Jane.
This was true; for, thanks to our old gardener's memory of past
kindnesses received from my parents, I enjoyed many a basket of choice
fruit grown under the shadow of my old home. I had a store of grapes
and peaches at that moment, but Cartwright's gifts were kept as a
secret by all at the cottage, lest Miss Flint should hear of them and
be angry, though the gardener had a perfect right to dispose of all
these things as he chose.
With some difficulty Nelly was induced to carry her fruit home, and
abandon her intention of leaving it on the windowsill. Jane Cartwright
and she walked quickly away to make up for lost time, and on the road,
Nelly told her escort that she was going to Germany in a fortnight, and
under Miss Flint's charge, with as many other particulars as she could
relate before she said good-night to her at the gate of her father's
grounds.
I was a little surprised to see Jane Cartwright and her husband at the
cottage when I returned home on the following evening. She had brought
me some apples from a tree that was always called mine in the old days,
but she also brought the news already related. And though she mostly
addressed Betsy, I felt sure that she meant these particulars more for
my ears than hers.
"And Miss Flint is off again, it seems," said Jabez. "At her time of
life you would think she would be glad to rest in peace in a home of
her own, rather than to be trapezing off to foreign lands. But there's
no accounting for tastes. Old maids are always reckoned whimmy, and she
has no one to say her nay, when she makes her mind up. I reckon you
would as soon see her back as her face."
"I can't complain of her myself," said Cartwright. "She has put a
living into my hands on very easy terms, and I have been allowed to
stay in the old spot, when I expected nothing but to be sent to the
right-about after she took Lint Hall."
It is needless to say that, after hearing Jane Cartwright's news, I
kept eager watch for Miss Flint and Nelly Burford amongst intending
travellers. I wanted a glimpse of my girl-friend's face before she
should leave England for two long years. Not that I had any hope of
being able to say a farewell word, or that I would have intruded upon
her in opposition to Mrs. Burford's commands, so long as she was a mere
girl under her mother's care.
On the contrary, I had kept out of Nelly's way, though both her father
and grandfather rather went out of theirs to manifest their unchanged
goodwill towards me. Perhaps pride had something to do with this. I was
only a lad, and with no one to advise me as my mother did in the old
happy days. I might have gone much farther astray but for the memory of
her words, her love, her prayers for me, offered when I was so young
that I could hardly understand all they meant or my own need of them.
I felt sure that, whenever Miss Flint and Nelly Burford set out on
their long journey, Mrs. Burford would accompany them to the station,
and keep watch over the girl until the train had fairly started. I was
mistaken, and this was owing to Miss Flint.
[Illustration: I kept eager watch for Miss Flint and Nelly Burford
amongst intending travellers.]
"I hate platform scenes," she told Mrs. Burford. "Good-byes and
hand-shakings and wavings of moist pocket-handkerchiefs, are
abominations to me. So Nelly and you must please do the weeping and
wailing in private. I shall call here for her and any lighter articles
of luggage that she wishes to have under her eye, but I beg you will
have as few parcels as possible. Heavy boxes your man will take to the
station, and wait with them till we come."
So this was how it happened that I saw Miss Flint and Nelly alight from
a carriage, unaccompanied, just a fortnight after Jane Cartwright told
me of the intended journey.
Oakhill Station is a junction, so trains stay longer at it than at many
of its size. A part of one train has always to be detached and shunted,
whilst the remainder goes on its way. Then the shunted portion comes
back to the platform, has other carriages attached, and branches off
in a different direction. It was by the later portion that Miss Flint
and Nelly would travel. The elder lady's idea of punctuality was to
be at least a quarter of an hour too early, and she fretted and fumed
close by the entrance for fully five minutes, until Mr. Burford's
man appeared with the heavy luggage. He pointed to the clock, and
respectfully assured Miss Flint that there was "lots of time," and he
would see the things labelled and into the van, as Mr. Burford had
ordered him to do.
It happened that Mr. Edelston, the station-master, had been ailing
and absent for some days. He was back that morning, but stayed in
the booking-office whilst I did duty on the platform; so I saw Miss
Flint come bustling towards the train, accompanied by Nelly, whom she
promptly deposited in a second-class through-carriage for London.
I heard her say, "It is money thrown away going second, but I had to
give in; for your mother, who has never known the want of cash, wanted
you to travel first class. Such extravagance!"
Miss Flint turned away to get the tickets, carrying her rugs, umbrella,
&c., in her hand. All at once she seemed to realise that she was taking
needless trouble, for she thrust them into mine, and exclaimed, "There,
you railway man, put these things into the carriage where that young
lady is, and tell her to take care of them."
I lost no time in obeying Miss Flint. There was only my girl-friend in
the carriage, and before I could deposit the articles on the seat, two
hands were extended to me, and Nelly said,—
"Oh Jack! I am glad just to say good-bye to you. I am off to Germany,
and I may not see you for years. But I shall not forget you. We shall
always be friends, whether we meet or no."
"Always, dear Nelly. I am very thankful that I have so true a friend
as you. I know you will not forget the old happy days any more than I
shall. May God bless you, Nelly!"
We had grasped hands, and I could see how pale the girl was, and that
she could not utter another word.
I had no chance, for at that instant Miss Flint's harsh voice said, "If
you will be good enough to stand on one side, I will take my place. I
have no wish to be left behind."
I jumped quickly down, and Miss Flint took her seat, not refusing the
help of my hand, for the step was a high one.
"Thank you," said she, without at first looking round. "You need not
wait. It is contrary to the company's regulations to give gratuities to
porters; and quite right too."
Then turning round, she started, and exclaimed, "It is you, John
Simpson, is it? What do you mean by this?"
"It is I, Miss Flint," I answered. "I meant to be of any service in my
power, and I still mean it, if there is anything more I can do for you."
"Nothing, but to take yourself off," was the blunt response.
"Then, madam, I wish you and Miss Burford a safe journey;" and lifting
my hat respectfully, I left the window.
"The impudence of that young man!" said Miss Flint.
"I thought you told him to bring the things," retorted Nelly, "and that
he was very kind and attentive."
"Perhaps he was, after all. He showed his breeding, too, by the way he
lifted his hat. He got nothing by it, though," added Miss Flint as she
closed her purse with a vicious snap over a threepenny-bit, received in
change at the booking-office a minute or two before.
It was a fortunate remark, for it and the action set Nelly laughing,
and the tears which ran down her cheeks seemed to be the effect of
mirth, not of regret.
I also laughed at Miss Flint's mode of addressing me, and at her
extraordinary appearance. Years before, I had heard Mrs. Burford say,
"If people did not know Dorothy Flint, they would declare she was mad,
or had chosen her garments out of a rag-shop as a matter of economy. It
is enough to draw all eyes upon one to be seen speaking to her, when
she is off for one of her Continental rambles. She is an awful woman,
and the greatest female guy I ever saw. Rose would run anywhere rather
than be seen in the street with her."
I could well imagine that Mrs. Burford would excuse herself from going
to the railway station to see the travellers off. I thought she would
be the one to plead that her maternal feelings would prove too much
for her, and that she wished to spare Nelly and herself. I did not
then know that Miss Flint had taken matters into her own hands. I had,
however, an instinctive feeling that the stern spinster would be good
to Nelly, for I had always thought that, if she had a warm corner in
her heart, my girl-friend had secured possession of it. Who could help
loving what was so sweet and winsome?