"You make too much fuss," I said. "If you and Alex and Charley would
leave the subject alone I might get on better with her. But you never
will leave the subject alone. When I speak to her you all three look at
me."
"I didn't know that the others looked; I couldn't help it, you know,"
said Von Marlo.
"But why should you do it? After all, you know much less than the
others do."
"That doesn't matter." Von Marlo held out his hand and took mine. "I
want to say something to you, Dumps. You are quite the nicest and
pluckiest girl I have ever come across. I know lots of girls at The
Hague, and they are pretty in their way; but I never saw anybody quite
so pretty as you are."
"Oh Von!" I said, and I burst out laughing. "I do wish you wouldn't
talk rubbish like that. Why, you know that I am very--very--downright
ugly."
"I know nothing of the sort," he replied. "To me, a face like yours, so
round, and eyes so grey, and--well, I think you are beautiful."
I saw at last that he was speaking the truth. Perhaps I was the Dutch
style. I knew I should never certainly be the English style. After a
moment his words were soothing. It was well if even a Dutchman could
think me nice.
"And you are so brave," he continued. "Looks don't matter very much, of
course. They do a little, but you are so plucky, and you have always
been so good at home, although now you are just having a rare chance of
turning yourself into--"
"Well?" I said, for he stopped.
"Into a vixen."
"Oh dear!" I cried.
"Yes; you know you are not what you used to be, and it is because of the
best woman in the world. So I do want you to try--"
"Stop!" I said. "I won't do what you want, so now let us change the
subject."
The colour came into his face.
"Perhaps," he said, "the best thing I can do is to tell you about my own
step-mother."
"Have you one?" I asked.
I looked at him with very keen interest. "Yes. I do not remember
anybody else. I don't remember my own mother."
"Oh, well, that is different."
"I do not think it is so different, for in some ways it is harder for me
than for you."
"Isn't she nice. Von?" I asked.
"She means to be," he said; "but she is severe. She doesn't love me as
English school because I am not wanted at home."
"Poor Von!" I said. "And have you ever been rude to her?"
"Oh no," he answered; "I couldn't be that--my father wouldn't allow it."
He was silent for a bit, and so was I silent. "What is she like, Von?"
I asked.
"She is what you English would call plain. She is very stout, with a
good figure, a high colour, and black eyes, only they're rather small.
She is an excellent housewife, and makes good dinners, and sees to the
house and the linen and the servants. My father thinks a great deal of
her."
"And you have brothers and sisters--half brothers and sisters?" I said.
"Oh yes; a great many. My step-mother loves them best, of course, but
that cannot be wondered at."
"No," I answered, "And, Von Marlo," I continued, "what do you call her?"
"Mamma," he replied.
"How can you?"
"I couldn't say anything else. I have known her since I was a tiny
boy."
"With you it is different--it is truly," I repeated. "I am never going
to call my step-mother mamma or mother, nor anything which would give
her the place of my own mother."
"I do not believe a name matters," said Von Marlo; "but you ought to be
good to her, for she is wonderfully good to you."
We finished our walk. I liked him and yet I did not like him. I felt
annoyed with the boys. I saw during dinner that they were watching me
when I spoke to my step-mother. Alex would raise his head and glance in
her direction, and once when I forgot to reply to her Charley gave me a
kick under the table. As to Von Marlo, he seemed to have done his part
when he had that walk with me, for he did not take much notice of me,
although I was certain he was listening.
Now, this was the sort of thing to fret a girl. How could I be good
when I was certain that I was surrounded by spies? I thought my
father's abstracted manner quite refreshing beside the intent and
watchful ways of the three boys. And as to Augusta, I almost learned to
love her. She saw nothing wrong in my step-mother for the very reason
that she did not see her at all. Whenever she raised her eyes, those
deep-set dark eyes of hers would fly to the Professor. When he spoke
she bent eagerly forward. Once he began one of his endless
dissertations; the boys were talking about something else. Augusta said
"Hush!" in a most peremptory manner, and my father stopped.
"Thank you," he said, and he gave her a gracious bow. I really thought
for a moment I was at school, and that one of the prefects was calling
the class to order. "Thank you, Miss--"
"Augusta Moore is my name."
She uttered it quickly, and with a sort of sob in her voice.
"Oh, go on, please--go on! It is of the utmost importance."
"Indeed!" he replied, colouring. "I should not have thought you
understood."
"Oh, I do, sir--I do! I love the great Herodotus--the father of all
history, is he not?"
"Yes, child."
Really I believe, for the first time in his whole life, my father was
aware of Augusta's society; he now addressed his remarks to her,
evidently thinking the rest of us of no importance. He put questions to
her which she answered; he drew her out; she had an immense amount of
miscellaneous knowledge with regard to the old classics. Her hour had
come; her cheeks blazed; her eyes were bright; she was lifted off her
feet, metaphorically, by my father's appreciation of her talents.
"A remarkable girl," he said afterwards when I was alone in the room.
"A friend of yours, Dumps?"
"One of my schoolfellows," I said.
Then I took hold of his hands.
"Father!"
"Well, Dumps?"
"I want to speak to you."
"Yes, my dear."
"It was very good of you to do what you did for me, and now you are
going to send me to a school in Paris."
"Indeed I am not," said my father.
"You are," I replied; "it is all arranged. My step-mother said so."
"Grace, bless her! She has a great many schemes on hand. But I think
you will have discovered for yourself, Dumps, that I cannot possibly do
such a thing. Indeed, I don't particularly care for the French mode of
education. If you must go abroad, go to Germany. In Germany we find
the greatest thinkers of the last three centuries. Put yourself under
them, my dear, and it is possible you may come back an intelligent
woman."
I did not say much more. By-and-by I went up to my room. Augusta had
not come upstairs. I had a few moments to myself. I locked the door
and flung myself on my bed. Oh, what a silly, silly Dumps I was! for I
cried as though my heart would break. It was not father who was sending
me to the school in Paris; it was my new mother--my step-mother. Was I
beholden to her for everything? Of course, she had bought me the
clothes, and she had provided all the new and delightful things in the
house. Could I take her gifts and stand aloof from her? It seemed
impossible.
"I cannot love her," I said to myself. "She is nice, but she ever and
ever stands between me and my own mother. I cannot--cannot love her."
"Then if you don't love her," said a voice--an inward voice--"you ought
not to take her gifts. The two things are incompatible. Either love
her with all your heart, and take without grudging what she bestows upon
you, or refuse her gifts."
I was making up my mind. I sat up on my elbow and thought out the whole
problem. Yes, I must--I would refuse. I would find father some day
when he was alone, and tell him that I, Rachel, intended to live on the
little money he could spare me; that I would still go to the old school,
and wear shabby dresses. Anything else would be a slight on my own
mother, I thought.