MANY VISITORS.
Miss Martineau's plans had been full of directness. Having made up her
mind, she wasted no precious moments. The girls must be helped; she
could only give them counsel, but others could do more. Miss Martineau
determined to go at once to the fountainhead. In short, she would
attack the one and only rich person who lived in the neighborhood of
Rosebury. Shortlands was a big place, and the Ellsworthys were
undoubtedly big people. Money with them was plentiful. They considered
themselves county folk; they lived in what the Rosebury people
believed to be royal style.
Miss Martineau had for one short blissful week of her life spent the
time at Shortlands. She had been sent for in an emergency, to take the
place of a nursery governess who was ill. Her French had been of
little account in this great house, and her music had not been
tolerated. The poor old lady had indeed been rather snubbed. But what
of that? She was able to go back to her own intimate friends, and
entertain them with accounts of powdered footmen, of richly-dressed
London ladies, of a world of fashion which these people believed to be
Paradise.
Twice during her week's sojourn she had been addressed by Mrs.
Ellsworthy. No matter; from that day she considered herself one of the
great lady's acquaintances. Miss Martineau could be heroic when she
pleased, and there was certainly something of the heroic element about
her when she ventured to storm so mighty a citadel at eleven o'clock
in the morning.
Her very boldness, however, won her cause. The footman who opened the
door might look as supercilious as he pleased, but he was obliged to
deliver her messages, and Mrs. Ellsworthy, with a good-humored smile,
consented to see her.
Their interview was short, but Miss Martineau, when she launched on
her theme, quite forgot that she was poor and her auditor rich. Mrs.
Ellsworthy, too, after a few glances into the thin and earnest face of
the governess, ceased to think of that antiquated poke bonnet, or the
absurdly old-fashioned cut of that ugly mantle.
The two who talked so earnestly were women--women with kind and large
hearts, and their theme was engrossing.
Mrs. Ellsworthy bound herself by no promises, but she contrived to
send the governess away with a heart full of hope.
Mrs. Ellsworthy had never yet called on any of the people who lived in
the straggling village of Rosebury. Therefore, when her carriage, with
its prancing horses and perfect appointments, drew up at the
Mainwarings' door, the old-fashioned little place felt quite a flutter
through its heart.
Poppy Jenkins, the laundress's pretty daughter, came out into the
street, and stared with all her eyes. The doctor's wife, who lived at
the opposite side of the street, gazed furtively and enviously from
behind her muslin blinds. The baker and the butcher neglected their
usual morning orders; and Hannah, the Mainwarings' servant, felt
herself, as she expressed it, all of a tremble from top to toe.
"Let me brush your hair, Miss Primrose," she said, when she had at
last succeeded in inducing her young lady to dry her tears; "and are
your hands nice and clean, Miss Primrose? and your collar, is it neat?
It's very condescending of Mrs. Ellsworthy to call."
"I wonder what she has come about," said Primrose; "she never knew my
mother."
Primrose felt at that moment the great lady's visit to be an
intrusion.
"I'll just run into the garden and stop Miss Jasmine and Miss Daisy
rushing into the drawing-room all in a mess," said Hannah. "Oh! sakes
alive! why, the young ladies will be seen anyhow from the French
window."
Hannah hurried off, wondering if she could smuggle these troublesome
members of her flock out of sight through the kitchen.
Alas! she was too late--when Primrose, slim and graceful, and with her
pretty eyes only slightly reddened by her crying fit, entered the
drawing-room, she saw the French doors open, and her guest pacing
tranquilly round the garden, hold the Pink in her arms, while Daisy
danced in front of her, and Jasmine, chattering volubly, walked by her
side.
"I'm so glad you like those carnations," Jasmine was saying. "Mamma
was very fond of them. Shall I set some slips for you? I will with
pleasure."
"If Pink ever has a kitten you shall have it," said Daisy solemnly.
At this moment Primrose joined her sisters.
"Oh, Primrose--something so delightful!" began Jasmine.
"She thinks the Pink a perfect beauty. She wants another pussy just
like it," burst from Daisy's pretty dimpled lips.
Mrs. Ellsworthy, still keeping the Pink in her arms, held out her
other hand to Primrose.
"I have introduced myself to your sisters, dear Miss Mainwaring. I am
Mrs. Ellsworthy, of Shortlands--a near neighbor. You must not consider
my visit an intrusion."
Before Primrose could reply Jasmine exclaimed volubly--
"Indeed we don't--we are quite delighted; we were feeling ourselves
awfully dull. Miss Martineau said every one would call now she had
been. We did not want to see every one, but you are different."
"You are delightful," echoed Daisy.
Primrose felt herself almost cross. "Girls, do stop chattering," she
said. "Mrs. Ellsworthy, I hope you will excuse my sisters; and won't
you come into the drawing-room?"
"I am charmed with your sisters," answered the great lady--"they are
fresh, they are original. Dear Miss Mainwaring, why need we leave this
delightful garden? can we not have our little talk here?"
"With pleasure," said Primrose, but her stiffness did not disappear;
she still had a slightly sore feeling at the bottom of her heart, and
the thought that Mrs. Ellsworthy never took the trouble to know dear
mamma kept recurring.
Mrs. Ellsworthy was quite woman of the world enough to read Primrose,
and to guess what was in her heart. She saw at a glance that the girls
were ladies, and would not be patronized. Her task had seemed easy
enough when she assured Miss Martineau that the poor young Mainwarings
must be helped. When she ordered her carriage and drove into Rosebury
she made up her mind to discuss their affairs boldly with them, and to
offer them practical advice, and, if necessary, substantial
assistance. The eldest girl, if she was at all presentable, might be
got into some family as a nursery governess or companion, and she felt
quite sure that she had sufficient interest to procure admissions for
Jasmine and Daisy into some of the schools especially started to
educate the orphan daughters of army men.
But in the garden, although it was a very shabby little garden, this
programme did not seem quite so easy. Jasmine and Daisy were
delightful children; they hailed her instantly as a comrade; they
thought nothing whatever of her wealth or her position. Shortlands
conveyed no meaning to their unsophisticated minds; they fully
believed that Mrs. Ellsworthy envied them their carnations, and would
have been made happy by the possession of a kitten similar to the
Pink. Primrose, on the contrary, was proud and shy, and had no idea of
treating any stranger in a confidential manner.
Mrs. Ellsworthy chatted on, but she never got beyond commonplaces; she
invited the girls to visit her at Shortlands, and Primrose, reading a
great desire in Daisy's blue eyes, answered simply, "Thank you; we
shall like to come very much."
"I'll manage it when I get them to my own house," thought Mrs.
Ellsworthy; "it's quite absurd to be baffled by three little chits,
but I'll settle everything in a satisfactory fashion when I get them
to Shortlands."
Aloud she said, "My dears, I shall be very glad to see you--and can
you come to-morrow? To-morrow I shall be quite alone."
"Primrose," burst from Daisy, "there's a Newfoundland dog, and a
mastiff, and two English terriers at Shortlands. The Newfoundland is
black and woolly and the mastiff is tawny, like a lion."
"Will you really show us over your beautiful conservatories?" asked
Jasmine. "Primrose, she was telling us about her flowers; and they
must be lovely."
"I'll show you everything, and take you everywhere," responded Mrs.
Ellsworthy, stooping down to kiss Jasmine's upturned face. "You'll
bring your sisters to-morrow, Miss Mainwaring," she continued, turning
to the grave Primrose.
"Thank you--yes. It is kind of you to ask us," answered Primrose.
Mrs. Ellsworthy drove away in state, and the sisters saw her off from
their door-steps. They made a pretty group as they stood
together--Daisy's arms clasped her elder sister's waist, and Jasmine
shaded her dark eyes from the full blaze of the sun with her little
white dimpled hand.
As the great lady drove away Jasmine had actually the audacity to blow
a kiss to her.
The neighbors at the opposite side of the street felt quite
scandalized, and said to themselves that surely the poor young ladies
had seen the last of Mrs. Ellsworthy, after such a piece of
impertinence. But the lady of Shortlands was really delighted.
"To think of my being here all these years, and never knowing those
charming creatures," she soliloquized. Just then she saw Miss
Martineau crossing the street, and she ordered her coachman to draw
up.
"I have been with them, dear Miss Martineau--they are delightful--so
fresh--and so--so pretty! They are coming to Shortlands to-morrow.
Good-bye--warm morning, is it not? Home, Tomlinson."
The girls had entered the little house, cheered by Mrs. Ellsworthy's
visit. Primrose, it is true, did not share her younger sisters'
enthusiasm, but even she was pleased, and owned to herself that Mrs.
Ellsworthy was a very different neighbor from the village folk.
Primrose's mind, however, was a good deal absorbed by what she had
discovered in her mother's little old-fashioned cabinet. A letter
directed to herself lay there unopened. She longed to break the seal,
and to acquaint herself with the contents of this message from the
dead. She longed to read the letter, but she knew she could only do so
at some quiet moment. She must peruse those beloved words when she was
alone and quite sure of being undisturbed. She thought she might slip
away into a little glade at the back of the house that afternoon, and
there read her letter, and ponder over its contents.
Events, however, were to occur which would prevent Primrose carrying
out this scheme.
Immediately after dinner Miss Martineau's well-known knock was heard
at the hall-door, and Miss Martineau herself, bristling with
excitement and curiosity, invaded the girls in their drawing-room.
"Now, my dears, tell me all about her. Is she not fascinating? She is
greatly pleased with you three--you have made a most proper
impression; and you are to go to spend the day at Shortlands
to-morrow. Now, my loves, tell me what arrangements she has come to--I
am so _deeply_ interested, my poor darlings."
Miss Martineau, as she spoke, kept her eyes fixed on Primrose; but
that young lady only gave her a puzzled look, and, after a short
pause, said quietly--
"I don't understand you. We have made no special arrangements. Mrs.
Ellsworthy was friendly, and she asked us to come and see her at
Shortlands; and we are going. Miss Martineau, I am so very busy this
afternoon; will you forgive me if I run away?"
Primrose left the room, and Miss Martineau, turning to Jasmine,
clasped her hands in some excitement.
"Oh, my dear!" she exclaimed, "I do hope Primrose won't spoil
everything by those little proud airs of hers; they really are--yes, I
am grieved to be obliged to say it--but they really are affected. Now,
Jasmine darling, a great deal depends on this visit--yes, a great
deal. You and Daisy must be on your very best behavior. You have never
been in a great house like Shortlands, and it is only right that I,
your instructress, should tell you how you are to behave. You must
take no liberties, dear; and you must not speak too much, or too fast;
and you must look _very_ grateful when Mrs. Ellsworthy notices you,
loves. Oh, my poor dears! I feel over anxious, for so much depends on
to-morrow."
It was now Jasmine's turn to stare, and to begin to say--"I don't
understand you." But Daisy burst out volubly--
"We are going up to Shortlands to run about--she said so. She said we
were to see the dogs--the black woolly Newfoundland and the tawny
mastiff; and she has got a snow-white Persian kitten, only she likes
the Pink best; and I promised her that if ever the Pink had a little
kit of her own she should have it. Mrs. Ellsworthy didn't say a word
about being horrid, and proper, and waiting until you are spoken to. I
won't go to Shortlands if I have to behave like that, I won't,"
concluded spoiled Daisy, pouting her lips.
Jasmine bent forward and kissed her. "You may do just what you like,
darling little Eyebright," she said.
"Oh, Miss Martineau, really Mrs. Ellsworthy is not at all what you
picture her. I should say she was the kind of lady who likes a real
romp. Anyhow, she does not at all want people to be stiff with her.
Daisy, and she, and I were as jolly as possible until Primrose came
downstairs, and I suppose Primrose agreed with you, and thought it was
manners to be formal. But, poor dear, she did not like it a bit. We
three were having such a chatter before Primrose came. She is going to
show me all her conservatories to-morrow, and she took a great fancy
to my carnations. I promised her some slips. Oh dear! oh dear! who is
that knocking at the hall door? Daisy, run and peep from behind the
curtain, and let me know."
Daisy started off on the instant, and returned in a moment with the
intelligence that Mr. Danesfield, the manager of the bank, was
standing on the steps, and that his face was very red.
On hearing this intelligence poor Miss Martineau's face also became
suffused with a deep flush, and she pushed her poke bonnet a little
backward in her excitement. An awful idea had suddenly darted through
her brain.
Perhaps Mr. Danesfield had called to announce some misfortune. Perhaps
the two hundred pounds was lost; perhaps there was no balance at the
bank!
When the good gentleman was ushered into the room she glanced at him
mysteriously, and even while he was shaking hands with Jasmine and
Daisy, began letting fall short, but mysterious sentences--
"Mrs. Ellsworthy has called--_much_ pleased--inclined to take them up.
They are to spend to-morrow at Shortlands." Mr. Danesfield raised his
eyebrows, pulled Daisy to stand between his knees; and, staring at
Miss Martineau over his gold-rimmed glasses, said--
"Eh! eh!--Shortlands--Ellsworthy's--worthy folk!" here he laughed,
pleased with his pun; "yes, Miss Martineau, a good opportunity,
undoubtedly!"
At this moment Primrose came into the room, and Miss Martineau,
judging that she might best serve her cause by retiring from the scene
of action, went away.
Mr. Danesfield did not pay a long visit. He had known the Mainwarings,
although not very intimately, for years. He was a good-hearted, kind,
and very busy man, and during their mother's lifetime he had taken but
little notice of the girls.
To-day, however, he seemed to regard them with fresh interest. He
assured Primrose that if he could assist her in any business capacity
he would only be too pleased to do so. "Our good friend Miss Martineau
assures me that your means are likely to be a little straitened, my
dear. I am sincerely sorry, although there are worse troubles--yes,
assuredly, far worse troubles. It cannot do a healthy girl any harm to
work. Yes, come to me for advice if you care to, and look on me as an
old friend. And hark ye, Miss Primrose, I am glad Mrs. Ellsworthy has
called. Make the most of your opportunity at Shortlands, my dears.
Yes; I'll look in another day with pleasure. Good-bye, good-bye."
When Mr. Danesfield went away the two elder sisters looked at each
other. What did it all mean? What mystery was there in the air?
Jasmine thought both Miss Martineau and Mr. Danesfield very
disagreeable but Primrose pondered these things and felt anxious.