POWER WAS EVERYTHING TO MAGGIE.
Meanwhile the young people enjoyed themselves vastly. Maggie was very
modest with regard to her tennis, but she quickly proved that she
could play better than any one else at the Manor that day. The
visitors walking about the grounds paused to remark on her excellent
play and to inquire who she was. She took her little triumph very
modestly, saying that she was rather surprised at herself, and
supposed that it was the fresh and delicious air of the country which
had put her into such good form.
"She is ridiculously overmodest," said Isabel Tristram to Merry, "for
she always did play every sort of game better than the rest of us. She
is not quite so good at her books; except, indeed, at certain things,
such as recitation. I wish you could see and hear her then. She is
almost a genius. She looks like one inspired."
"I think her quite delightful," said Merry; "and as to being
plain----"
"I told you, didn't I?" said Belle, "that you'd never notice her looks
after you had seen her for a minute or two."
By-and-by it was time for the family to go into the house for supper
at Meredith Manor. The three girls from the rectory were taken
upstairs, to a spacious bedroom to wash their hands and brush their
hair. Molly and Isabel were both most anxious to know what Maggie
thought of Cicely and Merry.
"What I think of them?" said Maggie. "Oh, they're first-rate, and not
really dull at all; and the whole place is lovely, and all the people
I met to-day were so nice, except, indeed, that Lady Lysle."
"Lady Lysle!" exclaimed Molly in a tone of astonishment. "Why, she is
Mrs. Cardew's greatest friend. Do you mean to say you were introduced
to her?"
"Yes, Mrs. Cardew was kind enough to do so, though I am sure I didn't
want it at all."
"But I can't imagine why she did it," said Molly in a tone of
astonishment. "Mrs. Cardew never introduces either of us to the
grown-up people."
"Well, her ostensible reason," said Maggie, "was that Lady Lysle knows
my mother."
"Does she, indeed?" said Isabel in a tone of great respect.
"But that doesn't make me like her any the better," said Maggie. "And
now I will tell you why, girls, only you must faithfully promise you
won't repeat it to any one."
"Of course not," said the girls eagerly, who were accustomed to
receive secrets from their schoolfellows, though Maggie, as a rule,
never gave her secrets to anyone.
"Well, I will tell you," said Maggie, the color flushing into her face
and then leaving it pale again. "Aneta Lysle is one of the girls at
Aylmer House. She is Lady Lysle's niece; and--well--you know I am
tolerant enough, but I can't bear Aneta Lysle."
Molly and Isabel were silent for a minute.
"If _you_ can't bear her," said Isabel, "then I don't suppose we'll
like her either when we go to the school."
"Oh yes, you will; you'll adore her--sure to. Now promise once again
that you will never repeat this."
"We certainly will not," said Molly.
Isabel nodded emphatically. "We don't tell secrets," she said. Then
she added, "We had best go downstairs now, if you're quite tidy,
Mags."
During supper that night Mrs. Cardew, who found herself seated near
her favorite rector, began to ply him with questions with regard to
Aylmer House. How had he heard of it, and why had he specially fixed
on that establishment for his daughters?
The rector smiled. He had twinkling dark eyes, and they now looked
down the long table until they rested for a brief moment on Maggie's
young figure. She was talking to Mr. Cardew, who, stately and reserved
as he was, took her remarks with good-natured tolerance.
"A nice, unaffected child," he kept saying to himself, and neither did
he remark how plain she was.
"That young person yonder," said Mr. Tristram to Mrs. Cardew, "is the
influence that has induced me to make arrangements for my girls at
Aylmer House."
"Miss Howland! You don't mean to say that you are influenced by a
schoolgirl?"
Mr. Tristram looked grave. "In this case I may as well confess at once
that I have been influenced," he said. "I have heard a great deal of
the child from Molly and Isabel, for they were all three at the same
excellent school in Hanover. I met little Miss Howland when I was in
London at Christmas. Being such a great friend of my children's, I
naturally talked to her. She told me of Mrs. Ward and of the new
delightful school to which she was going. She certainly never once
pressed me to send my girls there, but it occurred to me that I would
visit Mrs. Ward and see if it could be arranged. My girls are quite
proficient for their ages in foreign languages; but I want them now
thoroughly to learn literature and English history, and also those
numerous small accomplishments which are so necessary for a
gentlewoman. There is also no place in the world like London, in my
opinion, for hearing good music and seeing good art. I saw Mrs. Ward.
A short interview with her was all-sufficient. I could not desire to
put my girls in safer hands."
Mrs. Cardew listened very attentively.
"Then you think, Mr. Tristram," she said after a pause, "that
school-life is really good for girls?"
"In my humble opinion, Mrs. Cardew, it is essential. A girl must find
her level. She can only find it at school."
"Then what about my dear girls?" said Mrs. Cardew.
The rector bowed in a very courteous manner. "School-life may not be
really necessary for them," he said; "although you know my opinion--in
short you know what I would do with them did they belong to me."
Mrs. Cardew was silent for a minute or two. Then she continued the
conversation by saying, "It is really a curious fact that Lady Lysle,
my great friend, who was here this afternoon, spoke to me in terms of
the warmest approbation with regard to Mrs. Ward and Aylmer House. She
says that her own niece Aneta is a member of the school. She further
said that there were two vacancies at present, and she urged me to
send my girls there. But, alas I cannot do that, for their father
would not hear of it."
"I do wish he would hear of it," said Mr. Tristram with some feeling.
"You will never have your girls properly taught unless they go to
school. It is impossible at this distance from London to command the
services of the best masters and governesses. You will not have a
resident governess in the house--forgive me if I speak freely, dear
lady, but I love your children as though they were my own--and if you
could persuade Mr. Cardew to seize this opportunity and let them go to
school with Molly and Isabel I am certain you would never regret it."
"I wish I could persuade him," said Mrs. Cardew; "more particularly as
that excellent music master, Mr. Bennett, has just written to say he
must discontinue giving his music-lessons, as the distance from
Warwick is too far for his health, and Miss Beverley, their daily
governess, has also broken down. But there, I know my husband never
will agree to part with the girls."
"Then the next best thing," said Mr. Tristram, speaking in a cheerful
tone, "is for you to take up your abode in your London house, and give
the girls the advantages of masters and mistresses straight from the
Metropolis. Why, you will be bringing them out in a couple of years,
Mrs. Cardew, and you would like them to have all possible advantages
first."
"Something must be done, certainly," said Mrs. Cardew; "and I like
that girl, Miss Howland, although Lady Lysle seemed prejudiced against
her at first."
"Oh, she is a girl in a thousand," said Mr. Tristram; "so
matter-of-fact and amiable and agreeable. See how she is talking to
your husband at this very moment! I never saw a nicer or more modest
young creature, but she is so exceedingly clever that she will push
her own way anywhere. She has bowled over my two young urchins
already, although she has been only a few hours at the rectory. What
could Lady Lysle have to say against Maggie Howland?"
"Oh, nothing--nothing at all, and I ought not to have spoken; but it
seems she does not much care for Mrs. Howland."
"I think I can explain that," said Mr. Tristram. "Mrs. Howland means
well, but is a rather silly sort of woman. The girl manages her in the
sweetest way. The girl herself takes after her father, poor Howland
the African explorer, who lost his life in his country's cause. He
had, I am told, a most remarkable personality."
When Molly and Isabel Tristram, accompanied by Maggie Howland, the
rector, and his wife, walked back to the rectory that evening, Maggie
was in excellent spirits. It was natural that the three young people
should start on in front. Maggie talked on various subjects; but
although the Tristrams were most anxious to get opinions from her with
regard to the Cardews, she could not be led to talk of them until they
were approaching the house.
It was now nearly eleven o'clock, and a perfect summer night. The
boys, Jack and Andrew, had gone to bed, but a few lights were
twinkling here and there in the dear old rectory.
"Oh, I am not a scrap sleepy", said Maggie. "This air stimulates one;
it is splendid. By the way, girls," she added, suddenly turning and
facing her companions, "would you like your bracelets to have rubies
in them or sapphires?"
"Nonsense!" said Molly, turning crimson.
Belle laughed. "You don't suppose you are accomplishing that?" she
said.
Maggie spoke rather slowly. "Mother has one dozen bracelets in her
jewelry-case. Father brought them to her in the course of his travels.
Some he got in India and some in Africa. They are very valuable and
exceedingly quaint, and I recall now to my memory, and can-see clearly
in my mind's eye one lovely gold bracelet fashioned like a snake and
with eyes of ruby, and another (which I think he must have got at
Colombo) that consists of a broad gold band studded here and there
with sapphires. How pretty those bracelets would look on your dear
little arms, Molly and Isabel; and how glad--how very, very glad--your
Maggie will be to give them to you!"
"And, of course, when you do give them to us we'll be delighted to
have them," said Molly and Isabel.
Then Isabel laughed and said, "But what is the good of counting your
chickens before they're hatched?"
"I consider my chickens hatched," was Maggie's remark, "What fun we
shall all have together next winter! Aneta won't have much chance
against us. Yes, girls, of course I like your friends Cicely and
Merry; but they'll be twice three times--the girls they are when they
have been for a short time at Mrs. Ward's school."
"Aren't you tired, Maggie?" was Molly's remark. "Wouldn't you like to
go to bed?"
"I am not a scrap tired, and I don't want to go to bed at all; but I
suppose that means that you would?"
"Well, I must own to feeling a little sleepy," said Molly.
"And so am I," said Belle.
"Girls, girls, come in; your father wants to lock up," called Mrs.
Tristram at that moment.
The girls all entered the house, lit their candles, and went upstairs
to their rooms.
As Maggie was wishing her two dear friends good-night she said
quietly, "I hope you won't mind; but Merry Cardew--or, as I ought to
call her, Miss Cardew--has asked me to go over to the Manor to-morrow
morning in order to show me the old house. I said I'd be there at ten
o'clock, and could then get back to you in time for lunch. I do trust
you don't mind."
"Of course we don't," said Molly in a hearty tone. "Now, good-night,
Mags."
"But if you think, Maggie," said Isabel, "that you will succeed in
that scheme of yours you will find yourself vastly mistaken."
Maggie smiled gently, and the next moment she found herself alone. She
went and stood by the open window. There was a glorious full moon in
the sky, and the garden, with its deep shadows and brilliant avenues
of light, looked lovely. But Maggie was not thinking of the scenery.
Her thoughts were busy with those ideas which were always running riot
in her busy little head. She was not unamiable; she was in reality a
good-hearted girl, but she was very ambitious, and she sighed, above
all things for power and popularity.
When she came to visit Molly and Isabel she had not the faintest idea
of inducing Cicely and Merry to join that select group who were taught
by Mrs. Ward at Aylmer House. But when once the idea had entered her
brain, she determined, with her accustomed quickness, to carry it into
execution. She had never yet, in the whole course of her life, met
with defeat. At the various schools where she had been taught she had
always been popular and had won friends and never created an enemy-but
at Aylmer House, extraordinary and delightful as the life was, there
was one girl who excited her enmity--who, in short, roused the worst
that was in her. That girl's name was Aneta Lysle. No sophistries on
the part of Maggie, no clever speeches, no well-timed and courteous
acts, could win the approval of Aneta; and just because she was
impossible to get at, because she carried her young head high, because
she had that which Maggie could never have--a stately and wonderful
beauty--Maggie was jealous of her, and was determined, if she could
not win Aneta over to be her friend, to use her own considerable
powers against the girl. She had not for a single moment, however,
thought that she could be helped by Cicely and Merry in this
direction, and had intended to get them to come to the school simply
because they were aristocratic and rich, in the first instance. But
when she saw Lady Lysle--Lady Lysle, who hated her mother and before
whom her mother trembled and shrank; Lady Lysle, who was Aneta's
aunt--she knew that Cicely and Merry might be most valuable aids to
her in carrying out her campaign against Aneta, and would help her to
establish herself once and for all as the most powerful and important
person in Mrs. Ward's school.
Power was everything to Maggie. By power she meant to rule her small
school-world, and eventually by the aid of that same gift to take her
position in the greater world that lies beyond school. In her heart of
hearts she considered Cicely and Merry tiresome, silly, ignorant
little girls; but they could be made to play into her hands. They must
come to Aylmer House--oh yes! and already she felt certain she had put
the thin end of the wedge beneath that opposition which she knew she
must expect from Mr. Cardew. She would see him again on the morrow.
Indeed, greater schemes than hers could be carried into effect within
a fortnight.
Maggie was the soul of common-sense, however, and had no idea of
wearing herself out thinking when she ought to be asleep. She
accordingly soon turned from the window, and, getting into bed,
dropped at once into healthy slumber.
When she awoke she felt remarkably light-hearted and cheerful. She got
up early, and went with Andrew and Jack to see the adorable rabbits.
So judicious was she on this occasion that both boys returned with her
to breakfast in the highest good-humor.
"Mother, mother," cried Jackdaw, "she loves Fanciful because he's so
beautiful."
"And she adores Spot-ear because he's so ugly," said Peterkins.
The boys were exceedingly happy at being allowed to sit at breakfast
one on each side of Maggie, who, when she did not speak to them--for
she wanted to ingratiate herself with every one present, and not with
them alone--contrived to pat their hands from time to time, and so
keep them in a subdued state of exceeding good-humor.
Soon after breakfast she flew up to her room, put on that strangely
becoming brown hat, which would have suited no other girl but herself,
and went off to the Manor. She was met at the gate by Merry, who was
anxiously waiting for her appearance.
"I am so sorry that Cicely isn't here too," said Merry; "but mother
wanted Cicely to drive into Warwick with her this morning. We're
going for a long motor-ride this afternoon. Don't you love motors?"
"I have never been in one in my life," replied Maggie.
"Oh dear!" said Merry; "then you shall come with us, although I know I
can't ask you to-day, but perhaps to-morrow we could manage."
"I must not be too much away from Molly and Isabel, for it would not
be kind--would it, Miss Cardew?"
"Do call me Merry. 'Miss Cardew' sounds so stiff, and you know I feel
that I have known you all my life, for Molly and Isabel have always
been talking about you. Mother was so pleased when she heard that you
wanted to see the old house; and, do you know, Maggie----You don't
mind my saying Maggie?"
"Of course not, Merry--dear Merry."
"Well--would you believe it?--father is going to show you the
manuscript-room himself. I can tell you that is an honor."
"I am so delighted!" said Maggie. "Your father is a most charming
man."
"Indeed, that he is," said Merry; "but I never saw him get on so well
with a young girl before."
"Oh," said Maggie in her modest way, "it was just that I wanted to
listen to him; what he said was so very interesting."
The girls were now walking up the avenue.
"Please," said Merry suddenly, "tell me more about your school--I mean
that new, wonderful school you are at in London."
"Aylmer House?" said Maggie.
"Yes, Aylmer House. Mother was talking about it this morning. She was
quite interested in it."
"Your mother was talking about it?"
"Yes. It seems Mr. Tristram had been praising it to her like anything
last night."
"Well, he can't say too much in its favor," said Maggie. "Any girl who
didn't get good from it ought to be ashamed of herself."
"What is that you are saying, Miss Howland?" said the voice of Mr.
Cardew at that moment.
"Oh father! I never saw you," cried Merry.
Mr. Cardew came up and shook hands with Maggie. "I was walking just
behind you on the grass," he said, "and I heard your enthusiastic
remarks with regard to the school that the young Tristrams are going
to. I am heartily pleased; I take a great interest in the Tristrams."
"Oh sir," said Maggie suddenly, "I only wish--oh! I hardly dare to say
it--but I only do wish that your girls were coming too!"
Merry turned crimson and then grew pale. "Father doesn't approve of
schools," she said in a faint voice.
"As a rule, I do not," said Mr. Cardew decidedly; "but of course I am
bound to say there are schools and schools. You shall tell me all
about your school presently, Miss Howland. And now, I will allow my
daughter to entertain you."
"But, father darling, you promised to show Maggie the manuscript-room
yourself."
"Are you interested in black-letter?" said Mr. Cardew.
"I am interested in everything old," replied Maggie.
"Well, then, I will show you the manuscript-room with pleasure; but if
you want to go over the Manor you have a heavy morning's work before
you, and Merry is an excellent guide. However, let me see. I will meet
you in the library at a quarter to twelve. Until then, adieu."