A BUNCH OF ROSES.
MR. JORDAN’S wound was not dangerous, but the strictest rest was
enjoined. He must keep his bed for some days. As when Jasper was ill,
so now that her father was an invalid, the principal care devolved on
Barbara. No reliance could be placed on Eve, who was willing enough,
but too thoughtless and forgetful to be trusted. When Barbara returned
from Ashburton she found her store closet in utter confusion: bags of
groceries opened and not tied up again, bottles of sauces upset and
broken, coffee berries and rice spilled over the floor, lemons with the
sugar, become mouldy, and dissolving the sugar. The linen cupboard was
in a similar disorder: sheets pulled out and thrust back unfolded in a
crumpled heap, pillow-cases torn up for dusters, blankets turned out
and left in a damp place, where the moth had got to them. Now, rather
than give the keys to Eve, Barbara retained them, and was kept all day
engaged without a moment’s cessation. She was not able to sit much with
her father, but Eve could do that, and her presence soothed the sick
man. Eve, however, would not remain long in the room with her father.
She was restless, her spirits flagged, and Mr. Jordan himself insisted
on her going out. Then she would run to Jasper Babb, if he were near.
She had taken a great fancy to him. He was kind to her; he treated her
as a child, and accommodated himself to her humours. Barbara could not
now be with her. Besides, Barbara had not that craving for colour and
light, and melody and poetry, that formed the very core of Eve’s soul.
The elder sister was severely practical. She liked what was beautiful,
as a well-educated young lady is required by society to have such a
liking, but it was not instinctive in her, it was in no way a passion.
Jasper, on the other hand, responded to the æsthetic longings of Eve.
He could sympathise with her raptures; Barbara laughed at them. It is
said that everyone sees his own rainbow, but there are many who are
colour-blind and see no rainbows, only raindrops. Wherever Eve looked
she saw rainbows. Jasper had a strong fibre of poetry in him, and he
was able to read the girl’s character and understand the uncertain
aspirations of her heart. He thought that Barbara was mistaken in
laughing down and showing no interest in her enthusiasms, and he sought
to give her vague aspirations some direction, and her cravings some
satisfaction.
Eve appreciated his efforts. She saw that he understood her, which
Barbara did not; she and Jasper had a world of ideas in common from
which her sister was shut out. Eve took great delight in talking to
Jasper, but her chief delight was in listening to him when he played
the violin, or in accompanying him on the piano. Old violin music was
routed out of the cupboards, fresh was ordered. Jasper introduced her
to a great deal of very beautiful classical music of which she was
ignorant. Hitherto she had been restrained to a few meagre collections:
the ‘Musical Treasury,’ the ‘Sacred Harmonist,’ and the like. Now, with
her father’s consent, she ordered the operas of Mozart, Beethoven’s
sonatas, Rossini, Boieldieu, and was guided, a ready pupil, by Jasper
into this new and enchanted world. By this means Jasper gave Eve an
interest, which hitherto she had lacked—a pursuit which she followed
with eagerness.
Barbara was dissatisfied. She thought Jasper was encouraging Eve in
her frivolity, was diverting her from the practical aims of life. She
was angry with Jasper, and misinterpreted his motives. The friendship
subsisting between her sister and the young steward was too warm. How
far would it go? How was it to be arrested? Eve was inexperienced and
wilful. Before she knew where she was, Jasper would have gained her
young heart. She was so headstrong that Barbara doubted whether a word
of caution would avail anything. Nevertheless, convinced that it was
her duty to interfere, she did speak, and, of course, gained nothing by
so doing. Barbara lacked tact. She spoke to Eve plainly, but guardedly.
‘Why, Bab! what are you thinking of? Why should I not be with Mr.
Jasper?’ answered Eve to her sister’s expostulation. ‘I like him
vastly; he talks delightfully, he knows so much about music, he plays
and sings the tears into my eyes, and sets my feet tingling to dance.
Papa does not object. When we are practising I leave the parlour door
open for papa to hear. He says he enjoys listening. Oh, Barbie! I wish
you loved music as I do. But as you don’t, let me go my way with the
music, and you go your way with the groceries.’
‘My dearest sister,’ said Barbara, ‘I do not think it looks well to see
you running after Mr. Jasper.’
‘Looks well!’ repeated Eve. ‘Who is to see me? Morwell is quite out
of the world. Besides,’ she screwed up her pretty mouth to a pout, ‘I
don’t run after him, he runs after me, of course.’
‘My dear, dear Eve,’ said Barbara earnestly, ‘you must not suffer him
to do so.’
‘Why not?’ asked Eve frankly. ‘You like Ponto and puss to run after
you, and the little black calf, and the pony in the paddock. What is
the difference? You care for one sort of animals, and I for another. I
detest dogs and cats and bullocks.’
‘Eve, sweetheart’—poor Barbara felt her powerlessness to carry her
point, even to make an impression, but in her conscientiousness
believed herself bound to go on—’your conduct is indiscreet. We must
never part with our self-respect. That is the guardian angel given to
girls by God.’
‘Oh, Bab!’ Eve burst out laughing. ‘What a dear, grave old Mother
Hubbard you are! I am always doing, and always will do, exactly
opposite to what you intend and expect. I know why you are lecturing
me now. I will tell Mr. Jasper how jealous you have become.’
‘For heaven’s sake!’ exclaimed Barbara, springing to her feet—she had
been sitting beside Eve—’do nothing of the sort. Do not mention my
name to him. I am not jealous. It is an insult to me to make such a
suggestion. Do I ever seek his company? Do I not shun it? No, Eve, I am
moved only by uneasiness for you. You are thoughtless, and are playing
a dangerous game with that man. When he sees how you seek his society,
it flatters him, and his vanity will lead him to think of you with more
warmth than is well. Understand this, Eve—there is a bar between him
and you which should make the man keep his distance, and he shows a
wicked want of consideration when he draws near you, relying on your
ignorance.’
‘What are you hinting at?’
‘I cannot speak out as I wish, but I assure you of this, Eve, unless
you are more careful of your conduct, I shall be forced to take steps
to get Jasper Babb dismissed.’
Eve laughed, clapped her hands on her sister’s cheeks, kissed her lips
and said, ‘You dear old Mother Hubbard, you can’t do it. Papa would not
listen to you if I told him that I wanted Jasper to stay.’
Barbara was hurt. This was true, but it was unkind of Eve to say it.
The young girl was herself aware that she had spoken unfeelingly, was
sorry, and tried to make amends by coaxing her sister.
‘I want you to tell me,’ said Barbara, very gravely, ‘for you have not
told me yet, who gave you the ring?’
‘I did not tell you because you said you knew. No one carries water to
the sea or coals to Newcastle.’
‘Be candid with me, Eve.’
‘Am not I open as the day? Why should you complain?’
‘Eve, be serious. Was it Mr. Jasper who gave you the turquoise ring?’
‘Jasper!’ Eve held out her skirts daintily, and danced and made
curtsies round her sister, in the prettiest, most coquettish, laughing
way. ‘You dearest, you best, you most jealous of sisters; we will
not quarrel over poor good Jasper. I don’t mind how much you pet the
black calf. How absurd you are! You make me laugh sometimes at your
density. There, do not cry. I would tell you all if I dared.’ Then
warbling a strain, and still holding her skirts out, she danced as in a
minuet, slowly out of the room, looking back over her shoulder at her
distressed sister.
That was all Barbara had got by speaking—nothing, absolutely nothing.
She knew that Eve would not be one wit more guarded in her conduct for
what had been said to her. Barbara revolved in her mind the threat she
had rashly made of driving Jasper away. That would necessitate the
betrayal of his secret. Could she bring herself to this? Hardly. No,
the utmost she could do was to threaten him that, unless he voluntarily
departed, she would reveal the secret to her father.
A day or two after this scene, Barbara was again put to great distress
by Eve’s conduct.
She knew well enough that she and her sister were invited to the
Cloberrys to an afternoon party and dance. Eve had written and accepted
before the accident to Mr. Jordan. Barbara had let her write, because
she was herself that day much engaged and could not spare time. The
groom had ridden over from Bradstone manor, and was waiting for an
answer, just whilst Barbara was weighing out sago and tapioca. When Mr.
Jordan was hurt, Barbara had wished to send a boy to Bradstone with a
letter declining the party, but Mr. Coyshe had said that her father was
not in danger, had insisted on Eve promising him a couple of dances,
and had so strictly combated her desire to withdraw that she had given
way.
In the afternoon, when the girls were ready to go, they came downstairs
to kiss their father, and let him see them in their pretty dresses.
The little carriage was at the door.
In the hall they met Jasper Babb, also dressed for the party. He held
in his hands two lovely bouquets, one of yellow tea-scented roses,
which he handed to Barbara, the other of Malmaison, delicate white,
with a soft inner blush, which he offered to Eve. Whence had he
procured them? No doubt he had been for them to a nursery at Tavistock.
Eve was in raptures over her Malmaison; it was a new rose, quite
recently introduced, and she had never seen it before. She looked at
it, uttered exclamations of delight, smelt at the flowers, then ran off
to her father that she might show him her treasures.
Barbara thanked Jasper somewhat stiffly; she was puzzled. Why was he
dressed?
‘Are you going to ride, or to drive us?’ asked Eve, skipping into the
hall again. She had put her bunch in her girdle. She was charmingly
dressed, with rose satin ribands in her hair, about her throat, round
her waist. Her face was, in colour, itself like a souvenir de la
Malmaison rose.
‘Whom are you addressing?’ asked Barbara seriously.
‘I am speaking to Jasper,’ answered Eve.
‘_Mr._ Jasper,’ said Barbara, ‘was not invited to Bradstone.’
‘Oh, that does not matter!’ said the ready Eve. ‘I accepted for him.
You know, dear Bab—I mean Barbie—that I had to write, as you were up to
your neck in tapioca. Well, at these parties there are so many girls
and so few gentlemen, that I thought I would give the Cloberry girls
and Mr. Jasper a pleasure at once, so I wrote to say that you and I
accepted and would bring with us a young gentleman, a friend of papa,
who was staying in the house. Mr. Jasper ought to know the neighbours,
and get some pleasure.’
Barbara was aghast.
‘I think, Miss Eve, you have been playing tricks with me,’ said
Jasper. ‘Surely I understood you that I had been specially invited, and
that you had accordingly accepted for me.’
‘Did I?’ asked Eve carelessly; ‘it is all the same. The Cloberry
girls will be delighted to see you. Last time I was there they said
they hoped to have an afternoon dance, but were troubled how to find
gentlemen as partners for all the pretty Misses.’
‘That being so,’ said Barbara sternly, turning as she spoke to Jasper,
‘of course you do not go?’
‘Not go!’ exclaimed Eve; ‘to be sure he goes. We are engaged to each
other for a score of dances.’ Then, seeing the gloom gathering on her
sister’s brow, she explained, ‘It is a plan between us so as to get
free from Doctor Squash. When Squash asks my hand, I can say I am
engaged. I have been booked by him for two dances, and he shall have no
more.’
‘You have been inconsiderate,’ said Barbara. ‘Unfortunately Mr. Babb
cannot leave Morwell, as my father is in his bed—it is not possible.’
‘I have no desire to go,’ said Jasper.
‘I do not suppose you have,’ said Barbara haughtily, turning to him.
‘You are judge of what is right and fitting—in every way.’
Then Eve’s temper broke out. Her cheeks flushed, her lips quivered,
and the tears started into her eyes. ‘I will not allow Mr. Jasper to
be thus treated,’ she exclaimed. ‘I cannot understand you, Barbie; how
can you, who are usually so considerate, grudge Mr. Jasper a little
pleasure? He has been working hard for papa, and he has been kind
to me, and he has made your garden pretty, and now you are mean and
ungrateful, and send him back to his room when he is dressed for the
party. I’ll go and ask papa to interfere.’
Then she ran off to her father’s room.
The moment Eve was out of hearing, Barbara’s anger blazed forth. ‘You
are not acting right. You forget your position; you forget who you
are. How dare you allow my sister——? If you had a spark of honour,
a grain of good feeling in your heart, you would keep her at arm’s
length. She is a child, inconsiderate and confiding; you are a man with
such a foul stain on your name, that you must not come near those who
are clean, lest you smirch them. Keep to yourself, sir! Away!’
‘Miss Jordan,’ he answered, with a troubled expression on his face and
a quiver in his voice, ‘you are hard on me. I had no desire whatever to
go to this dance, but Miss Eve told me it was arranged that I was to
go, and I am obedient in this house. Of course, now I withdraw.’
‘Of course you do. Good heavens! In a few days some chance might bring
all to light, and then it would be the scandal of the neighbourhood
that we had introduced—that Eve had danced with—an escaped jail-bird—a
vulgar thief.’
She walked out through the door, and threw the bunch of yellow roses
upon the plot of grass in the quadrangle.