When Stella was first able to appear out of the shelter of her father’s
grounds for a walk, she was the object of a sort of ovation--as much of
an ovation as it is possible to make in such a place. She was leaning on
her sister’s arm and was supported on the other side by a stick, as it
was only right a girl should be who had gone through so much. And she
was very prettily pale, and looked more interesting than words could
say, leaning heavily (if anything about Stella could be called heavy)
upon Katherine, and wielding her stick with a charming air of finding it
too much for her, yet at the same time finding it indispensable. There
was nobody in the place who did not feel the attraction of sympathy, and
the charm of the young creature who had been rescued from the very jaws
of death and restored to the family that adored her. To think what might
have been!--the old man broken-hearted and Katherine in deep mourning
going and coming all alone, and perhaps not even a grave for the
unfortunate Stella--lost at sea! Some of the ladies who thronged about
her, stopping her to kiss her and express the depths of sympathetic
anguish through which they had gone, declared that to think of it made
them shudder. Thank Heaven that everything had ended so well! Stella
took all these expressions of sympathy very sweetly. She liked to be the
chief person, to awaken so much emotion, to be surrounded by so many
flatteries. She felt, indeed, that she, always an interesting person,
had advanced greatly in the scale of human consideration. She was more
important by far since she had “gone through” that experience. They had
been so near to losing her; everybody felt now fully what it was to have
her. The rector had returned thanks publicly in church, and every
common person about the streets curtsied or touched his hat with a
deeper sentiment. To think that perhaps she might have been
drowned--she, so young, so fair, so largely endowed with everything that
heart could desire! If her neighbours were moved by this sentiment,
Stella herself was still more deeply moved by it. She felt to the depths
of her heart what a thing it was for all these people that she should
have been saved from the sea.
Public opinion was still more moved when it was known where Stella was
going when she first set foot outside the gates--to inquire after the
rash young man who, popular opinion now believed, had beguiled her into
danger. How good, how sweet, how forgiving of her! Unless, indeed, there
was something--something between them, as people say. This added a new
interest to the situation. The world of Sliplin had very much blamed the
young men. It had thought them inexcusable from every point of view. To
have taken an inexperienced girl out, who knew nothing about yachting,
just when that gale was rising! It was intolerable and not to be
forgiven. This judgment was modified by the illness of Captain Scott,
who, everybody now found, was delicate, and ought not to have exposed
himself to the perils of such an expedition. It must have been the other
who was to blame, but then the other conciliated everybody by his
devotion to his friend. And the community was in a very soft and amiable
mood altogether when Stella was seen to issue forth from her father’s
gates leaning on Katherine at one side and her stick on the other, to
ask for news of her fellow-sufferer. This mood rose to enthusiasm at the
sight of her paleness and at the suggestion that there probably was
something between Stella and Captain Scott. It was supposed at first
that he was an honourable, and a great many peerages fluttered forth. It
was a disappointment to find that he was not so; but at least his father
was a baronet, and himself an officer in a crack regiment, and he had
been in danger of his life. All these circumstances were of an
interesting kind.
Stella, however, did not carry out this tender purpose at once. When
she actually visited the hotel and made her way upstairs into Captain
Scott’s room her own convalescence was complete, and the other invalid
was getting well, and there was not only Katherine in attendance upon
her, but Sir Charles, who was now commonly seen with her in her walks,
and about whom Sliplin began to be divided in its mind whether it was he
and not the sick man between whom and Stella there was something. He was
certainly very devoted, people said, but then most men were devoted to
Stella. Captain Scott had been prepared for the visit, and was eager for
it, notwithstanding the disapproval of the nurse, who stood apart by the
window and looked daggers at the young ladies, or at least at Stella,
who took the chief place by the patient’s bedside and began to chatter
to him, trying her best to get into the right tone, the tone of Mrs.
Seton, and make the young man laugh. Katherine, who was not “in it,”
drew aside to conciliate the attendant a little.
“I don’t hold with visits when a young man is so weak,” said the nurse.
“Do you know, miss, that his life just hung on a thread, so to speak? We
were on the point of telegraphing for his people, me and the doctor; and
he is very weak still.”
“My sister will only stay a few minutes,” said Katherine. “You know she
was with them in the boat and escaped with her life too.”
“Oh, I can see, miss, as there was no danger of her life,” said the
nurse, indignant. “Look at her colour! I am not thinking anything of the
boat. A nasty night at sea is a nasty thing, but nothing for them that
can stand it. But he couldn’t stand it; that’s all the difference. The
young lady may thank her stars as she hasn’t his death at her door.”
“It was her life that those rash young men risked by their folly,” said
Katherine, indignant in her turn.
“Oh, no,” cried the nurse. “I know better than that. When he was off his
head he was always going over it. ‘Don’t, Charlie, don’t give in;
there’s wind in the sky. Don’t give in to her. What does she know?’ That
was what he was always a-saying. And there she sits as bold as brass,
that is the cause.”
“You take a great liberty to say so,” said Katherine, returning to her
sister’s side.
Stella was now in full career.
“Oh, do you remember the first puff--how it made us all start? How we
laughed at him for looking always at the sky! Don’t you remember,
Captain Scott, I kept asking you what you were looking for in the sky,
and you kept shaking your head?”
Here Stella began shaking her head from side to side and laughing
loudly--a laugh echoed by the two young men, but faintly by the invalid,
who shook his head too.
“Yes, I saw the wind was coming,” he said. “We ought not to have given
in to you, Miss Stella. It doesn’t matter now it’s all over, but it
wasn’t nice while it lasted, was it?”
“Speak for yourself, Algy,” said Sir Charles. “You were never made for a
sailor. Miss Stella is game for another voyage to-morrow.”
“Oh, if you like,” cried Stella, “with a good man. I shall bargain for a
good man--that can manage sails and all that. What is the fun of going
out when the men with you won’t sit by you and enjoy it. And all that
silly tacking and nonsense--there should have been someone to do it, and
you two should have sat by me.”
They both laughed at this and looked at each other. “The fun is in the
sailing--for us, don’t you know,” said Sir Charles. It was not necessary
in their society even to pretend to another motive. Curiously enough,
though Stella desired to ape that freedom, she was not--perhaps no woman
is--delivered from the desire to believe that the motive was herself, to
give her pleasure. She did not even now understand why her
fellow-sufferers should not acknowledge this as the cause of their
daring trip.
“Papa wants to thank you,” she said, “for saving my life; but that’s
absurd, ain’t it, for you were saving your own. If you had let me drown,
you would have drowned too.”
“I don’t know. You were a bit in our way,” said Sir Charles. “We’d have
got on better without you, we should, by George! You were an awful
responsibility, Miss Stella. I shouldn’t have liked to have faced Lady
Scott if Algy had kicked the bucket; and how I should have faced your
father if you----”
“If that was all you thought of, I shall never, never go out with you
again,” cried Stella with an angry flush. But she could not make up her
mind to throw over her two companions for so little. “It was jolly at
first, wasn’t it?” she said, after a pause, “until Al--Captain Scott
began to look up to the sky, and open his mouth for something to fall
in.”
But they did not laugh at this, though Mrs. Seton’s similar witticism
had brought on fits of laughter. Captain Scott swore “By George!” softly
under his breath; Sir Charles whistled--a very little, but he did
whistle, at which sound Stella rose angry from her seat.
“You don’t seem to care much for my visit,” she cried, “though it tired
me very much to come. Oh, I know now what is meant by fair-weather
friends. We were to be such chums. You were to do anything for me; and
now, because it came on to blow--which was not my fault----”
Here Stella’s voice shook, and she was very near bursting into tears.
“Don’t say that, Miss Stella; it’s awfully jolly to see you, and it’s
dreadful dull lying here.”
“And weren’t all the old cats shocked!” cried Sir Charles. “Oh, fie!”
putting up his hands to his eyes, “to find you had been out half the
night along with Algy and me.”
“I have not seen any old cats yet,” said Stella, recovering her temper,
“only the young kittens, and they thought it a most terrible
adventure--like something in a book. You don’t seem to think anything of
that, you boys; you are all full of Captain Scott’s illness, as if that
dreadful, dreadful sail was nothing, except just the way he caught cold.
How funny that is! Now I don’t mind anything about catching cold or
being in bed for a week; but the terrible sea, and the wind, and the
dark--these are what I never can get out of my mind.”
“You see you were in no danger to speak of; but Algy was, poor fellow.
He is only just clear of it now.”
“_I_ only got up for the first time a week ago,” said Stella, aggrieved;
but she did not pursue the subject. “Mrs. Seton is coming across to see
us--both the invalids, she says; and perhaps she is one of the old cats,
for she says she is coming to scold me as well as to pet me. I don’t
know what there is to scold about, unless perhaps she would have liked
better to go out with you herself.”
“That is just like Lottie Seton,” they both said, and laughed as
Stella’s efforts never made them laugh. Why should they laugh at her
very name when all the poor little girl could do in that way left them
unmoved?
“She’s a perfect dragon of virtue, don’t you know?” said Algy, opening
his wide mouth.
“And won’t she give it to the little ’un!” said Sir Charles, with
another outburst.
“I should like to know who is meant by the little ’un; and what it is
she can give,” said Stella with offence.
They both laughed again, looking at each other. “She’s as jealous as the
devil, don’t you know?” and “Lottie likes to keep all the good things to
herself,” they said.
Stella was partly mollified to think that Mrs. Seton was jealous. It was
a feather in her little cap. “I don’t know if you think that sail was a
good thing,” she said. “She might have had it for me. It is a pity that
she left so soon. You always seem to be much happier when you have her
near.”
“She’s such fun, she’s not a bad sort. She keeps fellows going,” the
young men replied.
“Well then,” said Stella, getting up quickly, “you’ll be amused, for she
is coming. I brought you some grapes and things. I don’t know if you’ll
find them amusing. Kate, I think I’m very tired. Coming out so soon has
thrown me back again. And these gentlemen don’t want any visits from us,
I feel sure.”
“Don’t say that, Miss Stella,” cried Sir Charles. “Algy’s a dull beggar,
that’s the truth. He won’t say what he thinks; but I hope you know me.
Here, you must have my arm downstairs. You don’t know the dark corners
as I do. Algy, you dumb dog, say a word to the pretty lady that has
brought you all these nice things. He means it all, Miss Stella, but
he’s tongue-tied.”
“His mouth is open enough,” said Stella as she turned away.
“Choke full of grapes, and that is the truth,” said his friend. “And
he’s been very bad really, don’t you know? Quite near making an end of
it. That takes the starch out of a man, and just for a bit of fun. It
wasn’t his fun, don’t you know? it was you and I that enjoyed it,” Sir
Charles said, pressing his companion’s hand. Yes, she felt it was he
whom she liked best, not Algy with his mouth full of grapes. His open
mouth was always a thing to laugh at, but it is dreary work laughing
alone. Sir Charles, on the other hand, was a handsome fellow, and he had
always paid a great deal more attention to Stella than his friend. She
went down the stairs leaning on his arm, Katherine following after a
word of farewell to the invalid. The elder sister begged the young man
to send to the Cliff for anything he wanted, and to come as soon as he
was able to move, for a change. “Papa bade me say how glad we should be
to have you.”
Algy gaped at Katherine, who was supposed to be a sort of incipient old
maid and no fun at all, with eyes and mouth wide. “Oh, thanks!” he said.
He could not master this new idea. She had been always supposed to be
elderly and plain, whereas it appeared in reality that she was just as
pretty as the other one. He had to be left in silence to assimilate this
new thought.
“Mind you tell me every word Lottie Seton says. She _is_ fun when she is
proper, and she just can be proper to make your hair stand on end. Now
remember, Miss Stella, that’s a bargain. You are to tell me every word
she says.”
“I shall do nothing of the sort; you must think much of her indeed when
you want to hear every word. I wonder you didn’t go after her if you
thought so much of her as that.”
“Oh, yes, she’s very amusing,” said Sir Charles. “She doesn’t always
mean to be, bless you, but when she goes in for the right and proper
thing! Mrs. Grundy is not in it, by Jove! She’ll come to the hotel and
go on at Algy; but it’s with you that the fun will be. I should like to
borrow the servant’s clothes and get in a corner somewhere to hear.
Lottie never minds what she says before servants. It is as if they were
cabbages, don’t you know?”
“You seem to know a great deal about Mrs. Seton, Sir Charles,” said
Stella severely; but he did not disown this or hesitate as Stella
expected. He said, “Yes, by Jove,” simply into his big moustache,
meaning Stella did not know what of good or evil. She allowed him to put
her into the carriage which was waiting without further remark. Stella
began to feel that it was by no means plain sailing with these young
soldiers. Perhaps they were not so silly with her as with Mrs. Seton,
perhaps Stella was not so clever; and certainly she did not take the
lead with them at all.
“I think they are rude,” said Katherine; “probably they don’t mean any
harm. I don’t think they mean any harm. They are spoiled and allowed to
say whatever they like, and to have very rude things said to them. Your
Mrs. Seton, for instance----”
“Oh, don’t say my Mrs. Seton,” said Stella. “I hate Mrs. Seton. I wish
we had never known her. She is not one of our kind of people at all.”
“But you would not have known these gentlemen whom you like but for Mrs.
Seton, Stella.”
“How dare you say gentlemen whom I like? as if it was something wrong!
They are only boys to play about,” Stella said.
Which, indeed, was not at all a bad description of the sort of sentiment
which fills many girlish minds with an inclination that is often very
wrongly defined. Boys to play about is a thing which every one likes. It
implies nothing perhaps, it means the most superficial of sentiments.
It is to be hoped that it was only as boys to play about that Mrs. Seton
herself took an interest in these young men. But her promise of a visit
and a scold was perplexing to Stella. What was she to be scolded about,
she whom neither her father nor sister had scolded, though she had given
them such a night! And what a night she had given herself--terror,
misery, and cold, a cold, perhaps, quite as bad as Algy Scott’s, only
borne by her with so much more courage! This was what Stella was
thinking as she drove home. It was a ruddy October afternoon, very
delightful in the sunshine, a little chilly out of it, and it was
pleasant to be out again after her week’s imprisonment, and to look
across that glittering sea and feel what an experience she had gained.
Now she knew the other side of it, and had a right to shudder and tell
her awe-inspiring story whenever she pleased. “Oh, doesn’t it look
lovely, as if it could not harm anyone, but I could tell you another
tale!” This was a possession which never could be taken from her,
whoever might scold, or whoever complain.