Charlotte would assuredly have thought so more firmly than ever had she
seen her at the moment when she was thus speaking of her. She was
driving up the Silverthorns avenue in the pretty pony-carriage which
Lady Mildred had appropriated to her use. It was a chilly evening, and
the rain had been falling by heavy fits and starts all day. Miss
Meredon was well wrapped up, however, and she drove fast. Her cheeks
were glowing with excitement, and even in that most unbecoming of
attire, a waterproof cloak, she looked, as Charlotte had almost bitterly
allowed, "lovely." Her bright hair crept out in little wavy curls from
under her black hat, her eyes were sparkling--she looked a picture of
happiness.
"Don't ring," she said quickly to the groom, as she threw him the reins,
"I'll let myself in," and she was out of the carriage and up the steps
in a moment.
The great front door was fastened from within, but Claudia ran round the
terrace to a side entrance which she knew she should find open. And
without waiting to take off even her waterproof, she flew down a
passage, across the large hall, and into a smaller one, on to which
opened the drawing-room where Lady Mildred usually sat when alone.
"She cannot but be pleased," thought the girl; "and if I am very quick,
I may be able to write a word home to-night."
She opened the door, and as she did so she seemed to bring in with her a
gust of the fresh breezy autumn air. The lady who was reading by the
fire, or possibly dozing, for the light was growing faint, started and
shivered.
"Claudia," she exclaimed, "for any sake, shut the door. How can you be
so inconsiderate?"
Miss Meredon closed the door gently and came forward.
"Oh, Aunt Mildred, forgive me; I am so sorry," she replied in her bright
eager voice. "I was in such a hurry to tell you how capitally I have
got on. I have been so happy. The school is delightful. And, aunt,
only fancy--won't mamma and all of them be pleased? The German master
did so praise me! I am to be in the highest class, and--and--he said it
would do the others good to have me with them. It's not for myself I am
so pleased--it's for papa and mamma. And to think that I never had
German lessons from any one but mamma."
She ran on so eagerly that it would have been almost impossible to stop
her. And when she at last came to a halt, out of breath, Lady Mildred
did not at once speak. When she did her words were more chilling than
silence.
"I do wish you were less impulsive and excitable, Claudia," she said.
"Of course I am pleased that you should take a good place, and all that;
but I think it rather injudicious of the teachers to have begun praising
you up so the first day. They would not have done so had you not been
my niece. It is just what I was afraid of."
"Aunt Mildred, I assure you the German master knew nothing about who I
was. And I feel sure he wouldn't have cared if he had known. And it
was more he than any one. Miss Lloyd is nice, but--she isn't at all
gushing. She just told me quietly that so far as she could judge I
should be in the highest classes, and--and that it was plain I had been
very well taught."
Lady Mildred looked up sharply.
"You did not--I hope," she said, "you did not think it necessary to
enlighten them as to who had been your teachers?"
"No," said Claudia, "I did not, because you had told me not to do so. I
don't know in any case that I should have done so, aunt, for though you
say I am so childish, I don't feel inclined to tell everything to people
I don't know. Indeed I am not so silly, only--I couldn't help running
to tell _you_, just--just as I would have done to mamma," and Claudia's
voice quivered a little.
"Oh, well," said her aunt, "don't excite yourself about it. I am glad
to see you have sense of your own--indeed, I always say you have if you
would only think a little. But you must learn to be less impulsive--you
know how entirely I forbid your making any friendships or intimacies
among those girls. What are they like--pretty fair on the whole?"
"They were all very kind," began Claudia.
"Kind, child! Don't use such stupid words. Of course they will be all
only too civil. That's not the question. What sort of girls do they
seem?"
"Some seem very nice indeed," replied Miss Meredon. "The nicest looking
of all, indeed she is rather a peculiarly pretty girl--I never saw any
one quite like her, except--no, I don't remember who it can be she
reminds me of. She has quite dark brown hair, and a rather brown
complexion, prettily brown, you know, and yet bright blue eyes. Her
name is Charlotte Waldron."
"Humph!" said Lady Mildred, "like her father." She was not fond of Mr
Waldron's very "Osbert" characteristics, though she scarcely allowed
even to herself that he had any traceable connection with the
Silverthorns' family.
"Oh, do you know them?" exclaimed Claudia, joyfully. "I felt sure when
I saw her that you could not object--"
"Nonsense, Claudia," Lady Mildred interrupted. "Her father is the
Wortherham lawyer, or _a_ Wortherham lawyer; no doubt there are plenty
of them. And I should rather more object, if possible, to your making
friends with this girl than with any others of the Wortherham misses.
Mr Waldron has some little of the Silverthorns business, and I won't
have any gossiping about my affairs. You know the understanding on
which you came to me?"
"Of course I do, dear aunt," Claudia replied. "I wish you would not
think because I say out to you whatever I feel that I have _any_ idea of
going against your wishes. I only meant that this girl looked so--it
sounds rather vulgar to express it so, but it is the only way to say
it--she looks so completely a lady that I thought you would probably not
mind my knowing her a little better than the others. I fancy we shall
be together in most of our lessons."
"So much the worse," thought Lady Mildred. "It is really very unlucky.
I had no idea that Edward Waldron had a daughter old enough to be at
school."
But aloud, after a moment's silence, she remarked with a slight touch of
sarcasm in her tone,--
"So Miss Waldron also is a remarkably talented young person. She must
be so if she is to rank with you, I suppose."
"Aunt Mildred!" exclaimed Claudia. In her place most girls of her age,
Charlotte Waldron certainly, would have burst into tears, or left the
room in indignation, but this was fortunately not Claudia's "way." She
forced back the momentary feeling of irritation, and answered brightly:
"I know you are only teasing me, Aunt Mildred. You don't really think
me so dreadfully conceited?"
Even Lady Mildred could not help relaxing.
"You are very sweet-tempered, my dear, whatever else you are or are not,
and it is the best of all gifts." She sighed as she spoke.
"Now you will make me blush," said Claudia merrily.
"And was this Miss Waldron very `kind,' as you call it--very
`_empressee_,' and all the rest of it?" Lady Mildred asked.
"No-o," answered Claudia, hesitating a little; "I can't say that she
was. Her manner is rather cold and reserved, but there is something
very nice about her. I am sure she would be very nice if one knew her
better. Perhaps she is shy. I think that gave me the feeling of
wishing to be nice to her," she added naively.
"`Nice' in the sense of being civil and courteous, of course you must
be. I trust you are quite incapable of being otherwise. And it is the
most ill-bred and vulgar idea to suppose that the right way of keeping
people in their places is by being _rude_ to them. That at once puts
one _beneath_ them. But, on the other hand, that is a very different
thing from rushing into school-girl intimacies and bosom friendships,
which I cannot have."
"I know," said Claudia, but though she sighed a little it was inaudibly.
"Aunt Mildred," she began again, half-timidly.
"Well?"
"Has the letter-bag gone? Can I possibly write to mamma to-night?"
"The post-bag has not gone, I believe," said Lady Mildred. "No doubt
you can write. I suppose you are in a fever to report the German
master's compliments--if you think it amiable and considerate to leave
your old aunt alone when she has been alone all day, instead of making
tea for her and sitting talking with her comfortably. But of course you
very intellectual young ladies now-a-days think such small attentions to
old people quite beneath you. You will prefer to write in your own
room, I suppose--you have a fire. I will send you up some tea if you
wish it. May I trouble you to ring the bell?" But as Claudia, without
speaking, came forward to do so, Lady Mildred gave a little scream.
"Good gracious, child, you haven't taken off your waterproof, and you
have been standing beside me all this time with that soakingly wet
cloak. If you are determined to kill yourself I object to your killing
me too."
"It is scarcely wet, aunt," said Claudia, gently. "But I am very sorry
all the same," and she left the room as she spoke.
"Why do I constantly vex her?" she said to herself, despairingly. "I
must be very stupid and clumsy. I do so want to please her, as papa and
mamma said, not only because she is so good to us, but even more,
because she is so lonely--poor Aunt Mildred. Of course my letter can
wait till to-morrow. Oh, I know what I'll do--I'll be _very_ quiet, and
I'll creep into the drawing-room behind Ball with the tea-tray, and Aunt
Mildred will not know I'm there."
And the smiles returned to Claudia's face as she flew up-stairs and
along the gallery to her room. Such a pretty, comfortable room as it
was! A bright fire burned in the grate, her writing-table stood
temptingly ready. Claudia would dearly have liked to have sat down
there and then, to rejoice the home hearts with her good news. For
they, as well as she, had been awaiting rather anxiously the results of
her measuring her forces against those of her compeers. So much
depended on the opinion of qualified and impartial judges as to her
capacities; for, as her mother had said laughingly,--
"It may be the old story of our thinking our goose a swan, you know,
dear."
Yes, it would have been delightful to write off at once--a day sooner
than they had been expecting to hear. But the very sight of her room
confirmed the girl in not yielding to the temptation, for it recalled
Lady Mildred's constant though undemonstrative kindness.
"No doubt it was she who told the servants to keep the fire up for fear
I should be cold," she thought. "Dear me, how very good she is to me.
How I wish mamma, and Lalage, and Alix, and all of them, for that
matter, could see me here really like a little princess! But oh! how I
wish I could send some of all this luxury to them--if I could but send
dear mamma a fire in _her_ room to-night! They won't even be allowing
themselves one in the drawing-room yet--they'll all be sitting together
in the study. Monday evening, poor papa's holiday evening, as he calls
it."
All the time she was thus thinking she was taking off her things as fast
as possible. In two minutes she was ready, her hair in order, the
rebellious curls in their place, her collar, and all the little details
of her dress fit to stand the scrutiny of even Lady Mildred's sharp
eyes; and as she flew down-stairs again, she met, as she had counted
upon, the footman carrying in the tea-tray. The drawing-room was quite
dark now, as far as light from outside was concerned, and Lady Mildred's
lamp left the corners in shadow. It was easy for Claudia to slip in
unperceived, for her aunt was not expecting her, and did not even raise
her eyes when the door opened, and the slight clatter that always
accompanies cups and saucers announced the arrival of the tea.
"Tell Crossley to come in a few minutes to take Miss Meredon's tea
up-stairs," said Lady Mildred, not knowing that the footman had already
left the room, and that the movements she still heard were made by
Claudia, safely ensconced behind the tray, and laughing quietly to
herself. In another minute a voice close beside her made the old lady
start.
"Aunt Mildred," it said, "here is your tea."
"Claudia!" she exclaimed. "I thought you were up-stairs in your room."
"Selfishly writing my letter home! Oh, aunt! how could you think I
would be so horrid! My letter will do very well to-morrow. I did not
think it was so near tea-time when I thoughtlessly spoke of it. Do you
think I don't enjoy making tea for you?--almost the only thing I can do
for you," said the girl with a kind of affectionate reproach.
Lady Mildred was silent for a few moments. Then she said again, with a
tone in her voice which was not often heard,--
"Claudia, you have the best of gifts--a sweet and sunny nature. Try to
keep it, my dear."
And Claudia felt rewarded.
She sat up in her own room that night for half-an-hour to write the home
letter.
"Mamma would forgive my doing so for once," she said to herself, "for I
may not have time to-morrow. If I am really to do well at school I must
work hard, and it will not be easy to do so, and yet to please Aunt
Mildred. But I don't mind how difficult it is--it will be worth it all
to be able to help them at home without being separated. But oh, mamma,
mamma! it is very hard to be away from you all!"
And Claudia leant her head on the table and burst into tears.