A PALACE BEAUTIFUL.
Hannah Martin had come up with her young ladies to London, and she
also was invited by Mrs. Ellsworthy to come to her house. The girls
all thought Hannah very much altered; they could not understand her
queer illusions, or her mysterious little nods, or in particular the
way she used to stare at Jasmine, and say under her breath, "Yes, yes,
as like as two peas. What a blind old woman I was not to see it when I
clapped eyes on him."
"I cannot make out what Hannah is always muttering," Jasmine said to
her sisters. "Who is it I am so remarkably like. To judge from the way
Hannah frowns and shakes her head, and then smiles, the fact of this
accidental likeness seems to have a very disturbing effect upon her."
"I know whom you are like, Jasmine," said little Daisy. "I've seen it
for a long time. You are the very image of my dear Prince. You have
got just the same colored eyes, and just the same curly hair, and
both your foreheads are broad and white. It's perfectly natural,"
continued Daisy, "for you are both geniuses, and all geniuses must
have a look of each other."
Hannah had old-fashioned ideas on many subjects. One of these was that
people could not remain too long in mourning. She liked very deep
black, and wished those who had lost relations to wear it for a long,
long time. The girls, therefore, were quite amazed when she suggested
that they should all go to Mrs. Ellsworthy in white. They began to
consider her quite an altered Hannah; but Jasmine took her advice, and
bought many yards of soft flowing muslin, which the old servant helped
her dear young ladies to make up.
At last the day and hour arrived when, as Primrose said sorrowfully,
"Our fate is to be sealed and we are to bid 'Good-bye' to dear
independence."
The girls, looking as sweet as girls could look, arrived at Mrs.
Ellsworthy's at a fairly early hour in the afternoon. The good little
lady received them with marked tenderness, but said, in an almost
confused manner, and by no means with her usual self-possession that a
slight change had been found necessary in the afternoon's programme,
and that the meeting of friends and acquaintances to hear their future
plans was not to take place at her house after all.
"We are to go to another house not far from this," she said, "indeed,
only a stone's throw away. It is so close that we will walk it. Come,
Daisy, I see a number of questions in your eyes, but they shall all be
answered presently. Take my hand now, and let us lead the way. The
other house is very pretty, but it is smaller than mine."
The other house was quite close to Mrs. Ellsworthy's luxurious
mansion. It was built more in the cottage shape, was much smaller, and
had a charming little garden and grounds round it. The hall door
opened into a porch, which was covered with roses, so that though the
house was really in London, the effect was quite that of the country.
Standing in the porch, and looking extremely pretty in its flickering
light and shade, stood Poppy Jenkins, in the neatest of handmaiden's
attire, and as the girls all came into the shade of the cool porch,
Noel himself, looking somewhat pale, and with a curious agitation in
his manner, came out to meet them.
"This is my house," he said, "and Poppy is engaged as one of the
servants. I thought we might all meet here to discuss the new plans.
Poppy, will you take the young ladies to their room? I've had a room
prepared," he continued, blushing slightly, "for I thought Daisy might
like to rest a little."
Poppy instantly tripped forward, and in quite a demure manner took
the girls up some broad stairs, and into a long, rather low-ceilinged
room on the first floor. There were three little white beds in the
room, and three toilet tables, and, in short, three sets of
everything. It was the prettiest, the brightest, the most lovely room
the girls had ever seen. It contained luxury, and neatness, and
comfort, and refinement, for beautiful pictures were placed on the
walls, and flowers peeped in at the windows, and the furniture was of
that sort which can best accommodate girls' pretty dresses and
knick-knacks.
"What a room!" said Jasmine. "Why, it's just like a girls' room! Any
one would suppose Mr. Noel had sisters."
Daisy began to skip about, and to poke her little fingers amongst the
curiosities and treasures which were scattered broadcast. Primrose
became silent, and walked over to one of the windows, and Poppy,
suddenly dropping her demure air, said in a voice of ecstasy--
"He's a lovely young man, and I'm engaged here permanent, and it's no
more Sarah Ann, nor Sarah Jane, but Poppy I'm to be from this time and
for ever. Oh, Miss Primrose, don't it make you real happy even to take
off your bonnet in a room like this?"
"I do feel happy," said Primrose, in that slow voice of hers. "I feel
happy, and I can't tell why. I am just going to give up my
independence, and I ought to be miserable, but at the present moment I
have a peculiar sense of rejoicing."
"And so have I," said Jasmine, "I could skip all day long; and as to
Eyebright, she looks fit to dance this very moment."
"I'm happy because I'm with the Prince," said Daisy; "that's always
quite enough for me."
Then the three sisters linked their arms round one another, and went
downstairs.
In Noel's very lovely drawing-room many friends were assembled. Mr.
and Mrs. Ellsworthy, of course, were present; also Mr. Danesfield,
Miss Martineau, and Miss Egerton. Old Hannah stood in the background
and when the three pretty sisters came into the room they were
surrounded by eager and loving faces, and were most warmly welcomed.
Mrs. Ellsworthy, it is true, still appeared much agitated; she had an
intense longing to take Jasmine in her arms and cry over her, but she
had, of course, too much sense to do anything so unsuitable and silly.
The girls were asked to sit down, and Mr. Ellsworthy, who had been
elected spokesman, stood up, cleared his throat, and looked at his
wife. Twice he made an attempt at utterance; finally he said in a
voice which trembled--"My dear, I can't manage it--you had better do
it yourself."
"I presume you are addressing me, Joseph," said Mrs. Ellsworthy.
"I--I--this is unexpected; but anything to get it over. My dear girls,
you have come here to-day to hear what we have arranged for you. We
felt you could not go on as you have been doing."
"Impossible," here interrupted Mr. Danesfield. "They were the victims
of thieves and rogues. The thing could not have gone on a day longer."
"So we made plans--very nice plans," continued Mrs. Ellsworthy. "It
never occurred to us that they would be knocked on the head, crushed,
obliterated. Oh, I am very happy, of course, but I could cry at having
my plans spoiled a second time."
"I don't think they are really spoiled," said Primrose who had grown
very white, and now rose to her feet. "I know I was proud about
accepting help. I had such a longing to be independent. Perhaps I feel
sore about accepting help still, but I have made up my mind; for all
our sakes it is best. I submit--I give in--I am very grateful."
"Perhaps, Primrose," said Mrs. Ellsworthy, whose bright eyes were now
full of tears, "I may convince you yet that you have no cause to feel
sore, and that proud heart of yours will not be pained. I believe the
help you need is coming to you three sisters in such a guise that you
cannot fail but to accept it gladly, and as your natural right."
"It cannot quite be our natural right," said Primrose. "There are no
possible circumstances under which it can be quite natural for girls
to take money help from even the kindest friends who are not related
to them."
"In this case there may even possibly be a relationship," proceeded
Mrs. Ellsworthy. "Primrose, suppose that little brother who was lost
long ago--little Arthur your mother called him--suppose he came here
to-day, and said, 'I am grown up, and rich--I am the right person to
help my sisters,' you would feel no soreness of heart at accepting
help from your own brother, Primrose?"
"My own brother," repeated Primrose in a wistful and longing voice;
"it is cruel to remind me of my brother. He was lost many, many years
ago; he has probably long been dead."
"I should be the happiest girl in all the world if I could find my
brother," here interrupted Jasmine; "I often dream of him at night; he
must have been a darling little boy."
"But if he were to come here twenty times," said Daisy, "I could never
love him better than I love the Prince."
There was quite a little buzz of admiration through the room when
Daisy made this innocent little speech, and all eyes were turned on
Arthur Noel. Then there was a pause. Mr. Ellsworthy was again heard
to clear his throat, and no one seemed quite to know what to do next.
Suddenly Hannah Martin broke the spell--
"Goodness gracious me!" she said, "how long are the darling young
ladies to be kept in suspense? Miss Primrose, why, you have got a
brother, and there he stands. Mr. Arthur, come and kiss your sisters,
my dear. Oh, my darling, darling girls, it's perfectly, perfectly
true; he's the boy your mother broke her heart about long ago."
The confusion and agitation which followed can scarcely be
described--the joy of the sisters can scarcely be painted. Daisy took
this wonderful and important discovery more coolly and calmly than the
others.
"It doesn't make a bit of difference in my love to him," she said,
"for I always loved him as if he were my brother."
"And now, Primrose," said Arthur, "you are mistress of this house, and
please remember that visitors are coming here presently, and that you
are to entertain them."
"Are we always to live with you, Arthur?" asked Jasmine. "It seems
better than a dream. Oh, Arthur," she continued, not waiting for her
brother's reply, "don't you remember how we made friends the very
first moment we met? we must have always known, deep down in our
hearts, that we were brother and sister."
"And this is to be our new Palace Beautiful," said Daisy, "and Poppy
is to live here too. Oh, Primrose, do you not feel almost too happy?"
"I've given up my independence," said Primrose, "and yet I never felt
more happy or more thankful."
The party that evening was a success. The astonishment of the good
ladies from Penelope Mansion when they heard the wonderful news passed
all bounds. Mrs. Dredge sat plump down on a chair, placed her fat
hands on her lap, and fairly cried.
"Oh, if only my poor dear husband had lived to see this beautiful
day," she said. "Young man, I have liked you from the first; you're
the kind of young man whom my good husband would have rejoiced to be
papa to."
Miss Slowcum sighed most deeply when she heard the news. "It's a
touching romance," she said, "quite worthy of the olden times. I could
imagine Mr. Noel--Mr. Mainwaring, I suppose we must call him now--as
belonging to the old knights of chivalry. Yes, I am a person of
discernment, and I long ago saw that the dear girls belonged to the
upper ten."
"It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," said Mrs. Mortlock. "In
this case, ladies and gentlemen, I beg to reverse the familiar words,
for amid all your joy I have lost my 'continual reader.' She had her
faults--no, I'm not going to deny that being young she had her
faults--but she was ever good-natured, and she did her gossip
chirrupy."
Of course the girls' future was now assured, for Arthur was a very
rich man. Miss Egerton, at his earnest request, came to live with
them, and they are now known to possess one of the happiest and
brightest homes in London--in short, they live in a "Palace
Beautiful."