THE NID D'AVIS.
'It is called--I forget--_à la_ something which sounded
Like alicampane, but in truth I'm confounded,
What with fillets of roses and fillets of veal,
Things _garni_ with lace and things _garni_ with eel,
One's hair and one's cutlets both _en papillote_,
And a thousand more things I shall ne'er have by rote.
I can scarce tell the diff'rence, at least as to phrase,
Between beef _à la Psyche_ and curls _à la braise;_
But in short, dear, I'm tricked out quite _à la Française._'
_Moore._
One forenoon, soon after the end of the Christmas vacation, Robina
Underwood was seated at her desk, working deeply at the solution of
a quadratic equation; when from the far-off end of the schoolroom
arose that peculiar hushed choked giggle, that no one ever ascribed to
any cause but some prank of Angela's, more especially on the mornings
devoted to her natural enemy, 'the professor of the exact sciences,'
as he called himself; who was in fact a stop-gap in the absence of the
University man usually employed.
Robina knew that the more concerned she showed herself the more
madcap tricks were played, and she disturbed herself little about the
commotion, aware that she should only too soon learn the cause, if it
were anything out of the common way. So she did. In the quarter of an
hour of clearance and recreation before dinner, plenty of information
reached her, couched in boarding-school _lingua franca_.
'_Ah! Rouge Gorge, vous ne savez pas ce qu'elle a fait.' 'Une fille
delicieuse.' 'Une Alouette superbe, tout a fait Angélique!' 'Et M. le
professeur! Comme il etait dans un cire!_' (These phrases being chiefly
the original coinage of Angela herself.)
'_Mais qu'est ce que c'est qu'elle a fait?'_ demanded the elder sister,
with small sympathy with these ecstasies.
'_'Le plus exquis!_' and with volubility far outrunning composition,
and resulting in a wonderful compromise of languages, that a new book
had been produced out of which the class had been required to work what
was described as '_un somme dans le règle detrois tout à tort et à
travers; detestable, horrible, vilain_,' to which a chorus chimed in,
'_vilain, vilain vilainissimo_.' The question was, If twelve reapers
cut a field in thirty hours, how long would it take sixteen? As a
matter of course, all but a few mathematical geniuses at the head of
the class had multiplied by 16 and divided by 12, and made the result
40; but Angela, having wit enough to see that this '_n'avait pas le
sens commun_,' instead of trying to make out the difficulty, had
written at the bottom of her slate, what was hastily transcribed for
Robina's edification--
Forty, by the best time-keepers.
Reapers? I should call them sleepers,
Lazy heapers, idle creepers,
And their peepers should be weepers!
All who obtained a sight of this stanza became forthwith weepers with
suppressed giggle, and there was a stern, 'Your slate, if you please,
Miss Angela Underwood.'
The effects were expressed with all the force the language could
convey. '_Il etait comme un lion enragé--il écumait à la bouche--il
disait qu'il appellerait Mlle. Fennimore_'--a far greater climax, but
after all he only sentenced her to read the rule aloud to the class. No
sooner had she touched the book than she dashed it from her, '_Comme
la poison'--'comme un couleuvre_,' declaring it to be a shocking one,
unfit to touch, so that of course the sums came wrong. Most of her
audience, all girls under thirteen, for she was the arithmetical lag
of the school, had no notion why the title 'Colenso's Arithmetic' so
excited her--the master had none at all; and while Angela, who was
not for nothing sister to a church candle or to a gentleman of the
press, declaimed about heresy and false doctrine, he thought it all
idleness and wilfulness, and fulfilled the threat of a summons to the
authorities. By them the matter was a little better understood; but
the disobedience was unpardonable, even if the testification against
the author were not merely a veil for dislike to the problem, and the
sentence had been solitary confinement until submission. From this
Angela was so far distant, that as the young ladies marched in to
dinner her voice might be heard singing the Ten Little Niggers.
It was an unlucky time, for the next day was Marilda's twenty-fifth
birthday, and she was going to keep it in a way of her own, namely,
by taking the whole family of children of a struggling young doctor,
over the Zoological Gardens. It was not a very good time of year, and
Marilda's first proposition had been the pantomime, but the mamma had
religious scruples about theatres, and it turned out that the Zoo was
the subject of their aspirations; so Marilda, securing her two young
cousins to help her in the care and entertainment of her party, hoped
for fine weather.
From this party of pleasure Angela must of course be debarred, unless
she yielded; and her sister was sent to reason with her, but this had
no better effect than usual. Robina was a thoroughly good industrious
girl, who neither read the papers nor listened to controversy; she
cared most for heresies as possible subjects for her examinations in
Church history, and had worked problems innumerable out of Colenso. So
all she gained was a scolding for consenting to the latitudinarianism
that caused correctly-done sums to make sixteen reapers tardier than
twelve; and the assurance that no allurement, no imprisonment, should
make the young martyr consent to truckle to a heretic. Angela looked
exactly like Clement as she spoke, except for an odd twinkle in her
eye, as if she were quizzing herself.
Robina knew herself to be too much wanted to give up the expedition,
and was sent for by Marilda in time to assist in giving the five
children the good dinner that was an essential part of the programme,
and which reminded Robin of Mr. Audley's picnic. One little boy,
however, seemed bewildered and frightened by the good things, and
more inclined to cry than to eat; but he would not hear of being left
behind, though, when arrived at the Gardens, he could give but feeble
interest even to the bears, and soon fretted and flagged so much that
Marilda thankfully accepted Robin's offer of taking him home in a cab,
and waiting for her till her rounds with the other children should be
finished.
It turned out that he had had a headache and a 'bone in his throat' all
the morning, but had kept them a secret of misplaced fortitude; and
when Robina had taken him home, wrapped up in her cloak, trembling,
shivering, and moaning, she found the mother with the yearling child
much in the same condition on her lap; and she was rendering kindly
help in putting them to bed (for of course the nurse had a holiday),
when the father came home, driven in by a sore throat and headache of
his own, and forced to pronounce, as best he could, that they were in
for an attack of scarlatina.
Here was a predicament! Robina had never had the fever, nor had any
of her home brothers and sisters in any unimpeachable manner. She
could not stay where she was, and what would either the school or Mrs.
Underwood do with her? After such consideration as the little boy
allowed her to give, she wrote a note of warning to Marilda, to be
handed to her at the door, and another to be sent on to Miss Fennimore.
The note was handed to the frightened hurried maid, and duly given.
There was a moment's pause, and then the children were left in the
carriage, and Marilda walked into the house. Then there took place what
could only be described as a scrimmage. Marilda was determined on
carrying all the four home with her, out of the way of the infection,
but the mother was persuaded that they must have it already, and would
not part with them. If they were ill in another house she would not
be able to go to them, and the thought distracted her. The father was
appealed to, and between the same dread of separation and scruples
about carrying infection farther, he gave sentence the same way, and
Marilda was most unwillingly defeated.
She could only take away Robina; and Robina submitted pretty quietly
to her decision that her quarantine must be spent at Kensington Palace
Gardens. In the first place, Marilda protested that she had had 'it;'
and though 'it' turned out only to have been a rash, and it was nearly
certain that Mrs. Underwood would be in despair, yet Robin really knew
not where else to go, and Marilda was quite as old as the constituted
authorities at home. All Robin could insist on was on remaining in
the carriage till Mrs. Underwood had heard the state of the case; but
considering the rule that Marilda exercised, this precaution was of
little use. In five minutes she was called upstairs, a note was sent
to Brompton, and she had to make up her mind to a full fortnight of
quarantine--and what was worse, of lack of appliances for preparing for
the Cambridge examination, her great subject of ambition.
Neither Mrs. Underwood nor Marilda could suppose that it was not a
treat and consolation to a schoolgirl to get a holiday; they were as
kind as possible, but oh! the dullness of the place! It was much more
dull than in Cherry's visits, for she had her own study and her own
purpose, and Alda and Edgar enlivened the house; but now Marilda had
no pursuits save business and charity, and was out many hours of the
day, there was hardly a book to be found, and Mrs. Underwood expected
her to sit in the drawing-room and do fancy-work. Meantime she was
losing precious time, her chances of marks and prizes at Brompton
were vanishing, to say nothing of her preparation for the Cambridge
examination, on which her whole start in life might depend.
The doctor's family were all very ill; but she could not think nearly
so much about them as of the music she tried to practise, and the
equations she set herself, while she reckoned the extra work by which
she could make up for lost time. Alas! on the very last day of this
weary fortnight, conscience constrained her to mention an ominous
harshness of throat; and by the evening she was wishing for nothing but
that Wilmet were not in Egypt.
However, Marilda proved herself far superior as a nurse to what she was
as a companion. She would not be kept out of her cousin's room, and
with Cherry's old friend, Mrs. Stokes, took such good and enlightened
care, that the infection did not spread, and Robina, though ill enough
to be tolerably franked for life, was in due time recovering so
favourably as to be very miserable and wretched about everything, from
the Cambridge examination to her own ingratitude. She never had felt so
like Cherry in her life.
It was hard to say which was worst, her banishment from school or from
home, or the doleful idea presented to her by that kind promise of
carrying her to be aired at Brighton for six weeks! It was the loss of
the whole term, and all the prizes she had set her heart upon, nor was
there any one to sympathise with her, as she turned her head away and
hoped no one would find out the tears in her eyes.
It was just as it had been with Lance, she thought; prevented from
sharing in the competition that might have won him success in life.
And how sweetly and brightly Lance had borne it; but then he had never
reckoned on the success she had hoped for, and besides, her nature
had not the surface _insouciance_ that had helped him. She had more
industry, more ambition, more fixity of purpose, and the disappointment
was proportionably severer.
Poor child! she lay on the sofa, as Mrs. Underwood supposed, fast
asleep, but really trying to work out in her brain puzzling questions,
why it was good to be disappointed when one does one's best, why the
race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, trying to
accept her failure as wholesome mortification to ambition, recalling
'Under Wode under Rode;' but rebelliously feeling that this did not
comfort her greatly in the very unnecessary picture her fancy proceeded
to draw of herself, with attainments fit for nothing but a nursery
governess or school drudge, or a companion to some one duller still
than Mrs. Underwood, magnanimously releasing William Harewood from all
ties to so inferior a being, and proceeding to die of a broken heart,
and to shed a few tears over her own grave; or maybe the still more
melancholy conviction, that there were no ties at all that he would or
ought to remember.
A postman's knock made her start, and Mrs. Underwood lament that she
had been awakened. Presently she was sitting up, receiving a long,
narrow, green, thin letter, at which she looked with exultation and
delight all over the visage lately so doleful. 'O Mrs. Underwood, it
is from John himself---dear John!' was the cry, as her eyes lighted
on the address; and her pleasure amounted to rapture as she read the
closely-written sheets, in that clear strong neat handwriting that had
hitherto always been Wilmet's monopoly.
Alexandria, March 20th.
MY DEAR ROBINA,
I hope this may find you as it leaves me at present, a thankful
convalescent, and able to think of undertaking a journey with
more motive force in your own person than I can yet boast. My
good little French doctor has unlimited faith in the healing
virtues of the Pyrenean baths, he being Gascon born, and has
even volunteered to help us on our way thither when going home
for his holiday--a chance too good to be lost. Malta must be
our first stage; and if, as I am told to hope, I can get my
sick leave extended, after being sat upon by the doctors there,
we shall go on to Bagnères, where we hope to arrive about the
last week in April. We think you had better meet us there. Miss
Underwood will see about arranging an escort for you; Wilmet
is writing to her about it. She also desires that you will rig
yourself out afresh, bringing nothing you have used while laid
up; and you had better likewise provide the stock of books the
Cambridge dons advise, as we shall be very quiet and stationary
for some time, and I will gladly do my best to help you, unless
modern lights have gone quite beyond the capacities of the R.E.
You see by my date that we have made our first move. Chenu
was anxious to get us away from Rameses before the Egyptian
plagues should have become rampant, and after Wilmet had found
a scorpion curled amiably up on my pillow, she was ready for an
immediate start. So, amid the shrieks of the Arabs and tears of
the entire establishment, I was carried by Travis and Krishnu
to the station, and deposited in a horse-box, that I fancy
occasionally transports a harem, our host weeping and kissing
Wilmet's hands to the last moment. Poor people! they treated
us with uniform kindness. If you can make inquiries about the
price of a dinner-service, write me the result; it is a sort of
testimonial that might be convenient as well as appropriate.
Here, in this great hotel, we are no longer No. 1, but
simple units, and find it so much less enlivening, and more
common-place, that we even regret the nightly laughter of the
hyenas. I want Wilmet to join a party who are going to pay
their respects to the Sphinx; but she will not hear of it, even
under the care of Fernan Travis, who has grown quite familiar
with that venerable animal. He is an admirable squire for her
(Mrs. H----, I mean, not Mrs. S----,) at the _table d'hôte_
and is altogether as excellent a fellow as ever lived. I am
much struck with the ripening he has undergone since we were
together at Bexley, and his deeply conscientious views of his
very trying and difficult position. He means to see us off for
Malta, and then to make his way to Jerusalem for Easter, for
the chance that the throng may attract poor Edgar. Never was
search more indefatigable. Wilmet sends her love, but does
not write, as she has letters in hand to Felix and to Miss
Underwood.
Hoping to see your face as round as ever before a month is over,
Your affectionate brother,
J.O. HAREWOOD.
Write to us at Malta whether you can come, and we will either
write or telegraph to you when to start.
On a separate page were directions for the journey; and a cheque was
enclosed, the first Robina had ever received, providing amply for
journey, outfit, and books.
An hour before, the journey to Brighton had seemed a terrific fatigue.
Now a journey to the Pyrenees was only delicious! Her happiness and
gratitude were unspeakable. This was not banishment--this was not loss
of time--this was perfection!
Wilmet's letter to Marilda, which came at the same time, was a far
more anxious one. She described her husband as certainly better, but
still with three unconquerable wounds, on shoulder, hip, and knee,
that kept him helpless and prevented him from regaining strength. He
was always a bad sailor, and she extremely dreaded the voyage; yet it
was impossible to remain in the Egyptian climate, for already the heat
was fearfully exhausting, and this long, cheerful, well-written letter
must not deceive those at home, for it had been written in the cool of
the evening, when he always revived, but for the greater part of the
day he could scarcely speak or look; and she cautioned Robina against
reckoning too much on the Pyrenean journey, since if the military
authorities would not give John his leave without his presenting
himself in England, they must try some sea-side place there. John's
hopeful plans always ran on so fast whenever he was feeling a little
better. However, Wilmet herself was very eager to have Robina, who she
thought would be a great amusement and occupation to him, and was only
puzzled about the escort, since Felix could hardly spare the time, and
Clement was in the final agony of preparing for his degree.
This however was settled by Marilda's offering her own maid, who was a
practised traveller; and not long after arrived the final intimation.
All had been made right at Malta; and Robina, who had by this time had
leisure to change her skin, and gather her strength, was to start at
once for Bagnères.
She was not allowed any parting with Angela, or any of those at home.
It was safer otherwise, and not worth the risk, she was told, and there
was nothing to do but submit; and very much alone in the world did
she feel when she stood on the deck of the Folkestone boat, with the
black-silk maid as her only protector. It was a great plunge into the
vast unknown for one solitary little schoolgirl!
Behold! A hand was held out to her, a merry pair of yellowish green
eyes twinkled, a wide mouth smiled, a greeting was in her ears: 'That's
right, Bobbie! I thought you'd be for this boat.'
'Willie! O Willie! You are crossing? How nice! But you shouldn't touch
me.'
'Bosh! I had it long ago! Are you well and jolly?'
'Quite well, thank you. You are really coming?'
'Ay, I thought I'd run over to see Jack, and how Wilmet figures as a
bride; and it is a good speculation to get you to do all the French.'
'If I can; but here's Marilda's maid, a perfect traveller's book of
dialogues. Mrs. Purle--here is Major Harewood's brother, who is going
the same way.'
A gentleman was not an unwelcome sight to Mrs. Purle, who was used to
depend on couriers, and who entreated him at once to enforce attention
to certain luggage about which she was distressed.
And to Robina, he was simply the most delightful sight in the world.
After six weeks of the flatness and tedium of those good ladies in
Kensington Palace Gardens, a little youthful brightness, fresh too
from home, would have been like the pure sea wind after dull London
air, even if it had not been, of all people, Willie, Willie Harewood
himself, timing his journey on purpose to escort her!
True, there were always two sets of feelings going on within her;
one when she was actually concerned with or about him, when the
common-place aspect overcame the remembrance of that evening by the
river-side, and left only a pleasant companionship of long standing,
with the freedom of family connection and acknowledged preference;
the other, when he was out of sight and hearing, and was the standing
romance of her life.
It was not a wholly untroubled romance, for she was not certain of her
duty. Their promise had been exchanged when they were such children,
that it would be ridiculous to mention it, and it might be equally
absurd to dwell on it; yet her mind could not help attaching weight to
it, and questioning whether her secresy might not be a fault. Yet it
would be unfair, as well as absurd, to avow seriously nonsense three
years old, and without any further advance on his part. Without any?
That was the question that recurred over and over again to the poor
little heart, whenever romance got the upper hand, the heart that
_would_ one moment yearn, at another fail, at another bound! It was
avowed that Willie was very fond of her, and his sisters made that
fondness one of their standing jokes; but when Robin remembered the
enforced reticence with regard to Wilmet, that was no good sign, and
she could never discover whether he remembered the sixpence they had
not broken. It was no desirable state of suspense, this consequence
of having innocently listened to premature playing at lovers' vows;
and though good sense and modesty might mitigate the evil, that very
conscientiousness gave her the more to endure.
However, the pain was all in private, and private moments were few, and
encroached on by sleepiness and struggles to write letters. They went
on too fast for more than fleeting views from the train, only at Paris,
after the _table d'hôte_ Willie was urgent for a stroll in the gas-lit
streets, and on Robina's demur, appealed to Mrs. Purle's good-nature,
and brought her out, tired as she was, but enjoying the delight of the
two happy young things.
It was too late for sight-seeing, but little recked they; the wonder of
the city, then so great and gay, was quite enough for them; the long
illuminated arcades of the streets, the masses of trees in their young
foliage in the Tuileries gardens, the unaccustomed sounds--thundering
omnibus, rushing cabriolet, neighing, shrieking horses, and
high-pitched clamour of tongues, filled them with exhilarating
amusement. Then the people! Maid-servants in quaint white caps,
stately _sergents-de-ville_, soldiers marching to change guard, with
clanging bands, knots of talkers gesticulating, parties sitting out
on the pavement at the cafés--all was so new and queer, and it was so
wonderful to be there with only Will, that Robina could hardly believe
she was herself!
Above all, the shop windows! How they lingered and admired, like the
frank-hearted children they were! Everything looked so enchanting on
those slopes--photograph, confectionery, porcelain, millinery, or
jewellery. Oh! the raree-show those trinket-shops in the Rue Rivoli
were to them, as they gazed at the wonderful devices--those earrings
and brooches, as flies, as beetles, as fishes, shrimps, and acrobats.
At last they came on a set where the earrings represented a little
silver bird hovering, and the brooch a gold wicker nest with three
pearl eggs, and the same birds standing over it, and Robina's cry of
admiration was instantly replied to with--
'You must have those, I vow!'
'Nonsense! they must be frightfully dear.'
'I don't care; you are the bird that must have that nest.'
'But it is earrings!'
'Well!'
'I don't wear earrings.'
'That's no reason you never should.'
'No, no; Wilmet would not like it, and Mamma never did. It is making
holes in oneself to wear useless ornaments in,' said Robin, hurrying
out her remonstrance without choice of words.
'And the other thing, with the two birds--is that for your nose?'
'No, a brooch.'
'You wear brooches. You have on a thing like a calf's eye.'
'My poor onyx--for shame!' said Robina, not confessing that it was her
sole possession in that line.
'Then you shall have those two cockyolly birds.'
'No, indeed. It is a set, and they won't break it.'
'Then Grace shall have one bird, and Lucy the other.'
'Each one earring--you ridiculous boy!'
'And wear them by turns! Come in, and ask the price prettily.'
'No, I sha'n't.'
'I thought you were to speak French for me?'
'Only when I approve.'
'Then here goes!'
And Robin, who was afraid to stand in the street without him, heard him
asking, '_Quoi est le prix de ce nid d'avis?_'
Fortunately, or unfortunately, it was a bi-lingual shop, and the
purchase was conducted in English; the brooch was separated from the
earrings, the change made right, and the little box containing the
treasure thrust upon Robina, who could only twit the donor with his
_nid d'avis_.
'_Avis_ not the French for a bird? If it is not, it ought to be. I
thought one only had to speak Latin through one's nose and bite off the
end.'
'General rules are dangerous of application in particular instances.
There's the first hatch for you out of your nest of advice.'
'If you hatch advice for me, I'll take it.'
'That's a pretty considerable engagement!' said Robina, lightly.
'Your eggs of advice ain't rotten like some folk's.'
'They won't be pearls like these!'
'How do you know? My eyes, Bob, there goes a regular old Dominican,
looking just as if he was got up for a charade. What a place this is,
to be sure! and how hard to fancy that it is but a few hours from home
after all!'
The gift and the few words after it had brought Robina's outer and
inner worlds unusually near together; and when she opened her little
box in her room, she caught herself kissing the silver birds in a
strange thrill of pleasure and yet of doubt whether Wilmet would think
she ought to have accepted it.
The long, long journey ended in mazy sleep through the diligence part
of the transit, all in the dark, but with a dim consciousness of
wheels, voices, and bumps. It seemed quite the middle of the night,
and far too troublesome to move, when at length she was extracted
by William rather than by her own volition, and something in a
white turban appeared before her dazzled eyes in the lamp-light,
as stumbling with weariness, she was supported and guided by her
companion's arm, and reviving in the cool night air, heard that 'it was
but a few steps, and the Mem Sahib was waiting.'
Then a great door opened, and showed a flood of light intercepted by a
tall figure, and then Robina found a pair of soft arms round her, and
nestling close to a well-known bosom, felt the infinite relief of being
off her own mind and with her who had ever been the very core of home!
'My Robin, my Robin! Is she quite well? Oh, this is nice! And Willie--'
giving her sisterly kiss. 'Yes, we had your letter, we were so glad.
Mrs. Purle, how are you? thank you for bringing her! There's some tea
ready--Krishnu will show you.'
And then they were in the sitting-room, with its bright lamp and
blazing wood fire, and thorough English tea, and Wilmet in muslin and
blue ribbons, as they had never seen her but on rare gala days.
'How's John?' began William, rather blank at missing him.
'Much better--so much better, but I told him not to think of seeing you
to-night. He has been in bed more than two hours. And oh, my Bobbie,
you ought to be there too!'
'Yes, she's tired to death,' said Will; 'we have been going since eight
last night.'
She really was too much tired to speak or eat, and passively submitted,
scarcely conscious where she was--nay, at some moments thinking herself
in the old nursery in St Oswald's Buildings, in the comfort of being
undressed, cossetted, and put to bed by the hands most natural to her
since infancy. After a time of weariness too great for right sleep, and
of a strange confusion about confessions to Wilmet, she at length lost
the feverish element of over-fatigue, and slept soundly till she opened
her eyes to realise a little festooned bed in an alcove, white curtains
over the windows, strange new street-cries outside, and within, her own
box, a sofa, a table, a chair, and a fine clock, which could not be
going, for it pointed to half-past ten!
As she was sitting up and looking in vain for some means of washing,
the door gently opened, and that dear motherly face looked in. 'Awake
at last, my poor little tired bird?'
'O Wilmet, is it really so late?'
'Of course! never mind. Willie is just as bad; there are his boots
outside his door still. There, drink this coffee before you dress. Yes,
you want it; you could take nothing last night. Let me look at you; are
you quite rested, and fit to get up?'
'Oh yes!' energetically; 'if only I saw how to wash!'
Wilmet laughed, and opened a cupboard-door, displaying the requisites,
even including a tub, which she had found and purchased individually.
After the ablutions she could judge of her little sister better, and
thought the cheeks not greatly wanting in their roundness, or healthful
freshness; but all the brown hair had been cropped, and the short wavy
curls added to the childish contour. It was a prim little schoolgirl
figure that stood there in a grey carmelite dress, and black silk apron.
'My dear, have not you a bow or bit of ribbon? John likes colour.'
'Only a blue ribbon for Sunday.'
In a moment Wilmet had hurried to her own room, a rose-coloured snood
was round the brown hair, and a little Maltese cross hung by another
pair of rosy streamers round her neck.
'And a brooch, my dear. Haven't you one--what's in this box?'
'O Wilmet, I wanted to ask you about it. Willie would buy it for me at
Paris!'
'How pretty! There, that will do nicely. Are you ready? John is quite
eager for you, now he is at his best.'
So Robin, who meant to have put her question in a very different form,
was hurried away, _nid d'avis_ and all, and the next moment found
herself in the sitting-room, where on a couch near the fire, but
commanding a view from the window, lay, half sitting, her new brother,
holding out both hands to draw her to receive his kiss of welcome.
'Well, Robin, quite recruited after the scarlet enemy? So you were dead
beat yesterday!'
'O John, I did not mean to be so late!'
'You are beforehand with that lazy brother of mine, who tacked himself
to your skirts. Just in time for _déjeûner_, a thing always going
on here. Is the young Sahib awake, Zadok?' as the white figure with
a brown face entered to lay the cloth, but it was at once followed
by the young gentleman, exclaiming, 'Good morning, Wilmet; I beg
your pardon--I'd no notion of the time.' Then coming to a sudden
stand-still, 'Holloa, Jack!'
'Holloa, Bill,' replied John, imitating the tone, with a smile. 'How's
my father?'
'As--as usual! But, Jack, old fellow, how--how small you look?' said
Will, shocked and overcome into small choice of words, as he stood with
a frown of dismay on his face.
'Boiled to rags, like the policeman in the Area Belle,' said John,
trying to laugh him into reassurance. 'Did you expect the process to
have the same effect as on a pudding?'
'But my father said he was not altered!' said William, turning to his
sister-in-law.
'He has gone through a good deal since then,' said Wilmet, wistfully.
'And the sun-burning has had time to fade. If you had seen him before
we came into this mountain air, you would only wonder at him now.'
'Besides,' added John, 'you are grateful to a man for looking anyhow
at all when he lies like a mummy. And now he is dressed like his
fellow-creatures, you compare him with them.'
'And that is only since we have been here,' said Wilmet, proudly.
'And how are they all at home, Bill? How's the mother?'
'Oh, all right; and she kindly insisted on my taking out some Liebnitz
to you in case you couldn't get anything in these French places. She
fairly took me in this time, and I suggested it was rather tough for
you under present circumstances, but she said that couldn't be, for she
got it warranted in tins at the competitive.'
'Dear mother!' said John, as they all shrieked with amusement; 'I
don't think Wilmet will be at all ungrateful to her. I am afraid the
commissariat is a weight on her mind. Now, what do you think of her
looks?' demanded John, rather anxiously.
'Well, she is always--just Wilmet--but she is thinner, and not so pink
as she used to be,' said the uncomplimentary Will.
'Of course,' said Wilmet, as John's eyes turned on her the more
solicitously, 'after the heat of those last weeks in Egypt; and Malta
was almost worse, except that there was not the constant warfare with
the flies that just kept one alive.'
'It is very warm here,' said Robina, who had left London in an east
wind.
'We find it cold up here in the mountains,' said Wilmet, who wore a
velvet jacket and thick glossy striped blue and brown silk. 'Dr. Chenu
warned us to prepare.'
'Yes,' said John, 'so I sent her out at Marseilles to fit herself out,
and what does she come home with but one lugubrious black silk, which
she tried to persuade me was the correct thing!'
'And then,' said Wilmet, 'the next thing I found was his bed spread all
over with patterns, and it was all I could do not to have enough to
clothe all Bexley. I was obliged to get a new box as it is, and luggage
is frightfully expensive on these French lines.'
Willie and Robin, though both in some awe of Wilmet, could not help
smiling at a speech so exactly like herself, as to remind them of
Lance's mischievous averment that she must have married John because it
was so much cheaper than sending any one out.
Those four happy tongues, how much they had to tell and to ask, about
the two journeys and the two homes, all mixed up together, Bill's
tidings being the most recent, and all that was known by letter
becoming much more real and interesting by word of mouth.
Cherry? Yes, Cherry was very well, and had no end of a picture for the
exhibition, of the maiden spinning for her lover's ransom--she had
studied the maiden from one of Ernest Lamb's sisters, but she had put
in exactly her own eyes, poor Cherry! There was a picture of Stella
and Theodore upstairs for Wilmet Lance had played his violin to keep
Theodore happy while sitting. Oh, and had they heard that Lance had
really been asked to take the organist's place? The former one had sent
in his resignation, and after the half-year that Lance and the choir
had worked together, there was a general desire that he should take the
post. Mr. Bevan had even written to request it, at £50 a year instead
of £70.
'What a shame!' broke out Wilmet 'I hope Felix did not consent! I had
much rather he was not paid at all.'
'That was what Lance wanted, of course,' said Robina; 'he wished to
give his music freely, as he does not give up the business.'
'But Felix said he had no desire to give either £20 or £70 a year to
my Lady, and that he did not accept her as the Church,' said Will;
'and Miles--old Miles was more rabid than ever he was at the Zoraya;
and Lance was in a state bordering on distraction for fear it should
go off altogether, and he should undergo torture from a fifty-pounder
every Sunday of his life, but my Lady gave in; and Lance reconciles his
conscience to the lucre of gain by getting a lesson from Miles once a
week, and raising the pay on the biggest of those interminable little
Lightfoots.'
'George, the intelligent one, that Cherry used to have up to teach,'
interposed Robin, 'so that there's another in the shop to make up for
any time Lance spends away from it. And when Fernan's new organ comes,
whenever it is finished, it will be such a delight.'
'I hate to see him all the same,' muttered Will, with a frown; but the
observation was unheeded, as Robina eagerly told how Theodore had one
day gone in with his brothers to the choir practice, where he had been
in such a state of bliss, and kept his _lieder ohne wörter_ so true
that they had taken him regularly first thither and then to church,
where he accompanied like a little musical instrument, and at last Mr.
Flowerdew could not resist enrolling him in the choir, where, seated
in front of Felix, and with 'one of the interminable Lightfoots' as
guardian by his side, he was safe from molestation from any teasing
freak of the other boys, and however much he might comprehend, there
was no doubt that his felicity was perfect.
'It has really altered him,' said Will. 'I did not know him when I
saw him in his surplice; and indeed he seems to have got a stimulus
altogether, between that and Scamp.'
'Scamp!'
'What, they've not ventured to tell you that they've set up a dog!' and
Bill and Bobbie both fell into convulsions, in which the Major joined
more moderately, at his lady's demure face of astonishment.
'I suppose it was forgotten, when all the wedding letters were being
written,' said Robina, rather guiltily.
'And when the mice no longer expected the cat,' said John.
'No, indeed it wasn't that!' pleaded Robina. 'Lance couldn't help it.'
'It was a votive offering,' said Will 'Lance has never ceased to be
little Dick Graeme's demi-god ever since he licked him within an inch
of his life for bolting Shapcote's plums. You know those dogs of Mr.
Graeme's, Jack--beautiful black retrievers with tan legs and muzzles.
One belonged to Dick, and no sooner has she a litter of puppies than
he must bring up one for Lance, without a hint to him or any one else,
till one day he coolly marched in with his dog at his heels.'
'His father was driving in,' said Robin, 'and had no notion the boy
had not settled it all. We were just sitting down to dinner when the
bell rang, and there was a wonderful floundering on the stairs, and in
tumbled Master Dick with this great black beast padding and sprawling
after him. Then, while Cherry stood clutching Lord Gerald in one hand
and the back of her chair in the other, much as if it had been a wolf,
we heard the pleasing intelligence; "He is for you, Underwood; he is
Sal's finest pup, and I brought him up on purpose for you."'
'But Lance was not forced to keep him.'
'We could not turn him out neck and crop; and you can imagine the
rapture of Angel and Bear, and Lance wished it so much! Even Cherry did
not like to vex the boy, and when she began to talk of Felix and the
yard, I thought how it would end. But when she said it would frighten
Theodore into fits, the next thing we saw was the two rolling on the
floor together, Tedo's arms round the dog, and Scamp licking his face
all over, and all that satiny puppy hair on the long ears mixed up with
Baby's flax. Cherry made a sketch on the spot, and there was no notion
of sending him away after that. I don't know whether Tedo cannot do
without Stella better than without Scamp, for they seem to understand
one another better, and he is not afraid to go into the garden alone
with Scamp, though he never would with Stella. It is quite new life to
him.'
'As good a thing as could have been devised for him,' said John.
'Poor dear Tedo! yes, I am glad for his sake,' said Wilmet; 'only I
hope they don't have him in the house.'
'Don't they,' said Willie, mischievously; 'didn't I nearly break my
neck over the black back of him last Monday!'
'But Lance always combs him,' eagerly interposed Robina.
'Yes, Lance is as dainty about brushing and curry-combing him as he
is over his own lark's crest when the ladies are coming for their
magazines. Oh, Scamp is a great institution; he walks Cherry out every
day, and even Felix can't resist if he makes a set at him.'
'Capital! What, not reconciled yet, Wilmet?'
'Not to having him in the house. I am thinking of Mrs. Froggatt's
carpet.'
'Ours, you mean,' said Robin; 'besides, it is drugget.'
'And past praying for,' wickedly added Bill, 'since Bernard and I made
a general average of the inkstand and Cherry's painting things at one
swoop.'
'Abdicated sovereigns should close their ears,' said John. 'No doubt
Constantius' doings much disturbed Diocletian over his cabbages.'
'I hope I was not such a tyrant,' said Wilmet; who, though used to
raillery from her brothers, had yet to learn to take it from her
husband.
'At least I hope you have retired on a cabbage, _mon chou_,' he said.
She smiled, but turned the subject by explaining that their excellent
doctor had not only secured these comfortable rooms on the ground floor
till the season should be advanced enough to remove to Barèges, but
had recommended them to a _confrère_, and had found, what John added
was more difficult to get than the savant, a pony and a wheeled chair,
in which he was going out at two o'clock. 'And it is past twelve now,'
said Wilmet; 'and you ought to be resting.'
'I'll go and look about, and come back in time to put you in your
chair, Jack,' said William. 'Come along, Robin.'
'If you are not tired, Robin,' said Wilmet, 'you had better go out. We
can only keep along the road; and John ought to get some sleep before
he goes out.'
'The cabbage is well drilled, you see,' said John; but he really did
look weary, and Robina was glad enough of the positive command.
Her sister had clearly no notion but of turning the children out to
play whenever they were in the way; and for the present that was quite
enough to send her down, forgetting everything but the charm of the
walk and the companionship.
The fresh sunny spring-tide and mountain air would have been
exhilaration and ecstasy in themselves, such as she had never known,
even if there had been nothing to see, and no one she cared for at
her side. And now the ravine, the pine-clad slopes, the scattered
cottages, the rocks, the foliage, the blossoming trees, the picturesque
figures, above all, the veritable mountain summits, still glorified
by their winter snows, cutting the clear blue sky, filled her with
a sense of beauty and wonder, enlarging her whole spirit with a new
incomprehensible sensation; and William was altogether lifted out of
the hair-brained rattle-pate. His frank-hearted nature had no corner
for the affectation of sneering at his own loftiest emotions. It was
his first mountain, and he was perfectly overcome by it; he raised his
hat with an instinct of reverence, and the tears stood in his eyes as
he kept silence at first, and then murmured, 'One seems nearer the
Great White Throne!'
'I never guessed it was--oh--that there was such a soul in it!'
responded Robina, in low awe-struck accents, as if in a church.
'No words ever gave one a moment's sense of it,' he answered; and then
they began revelling in individual admiration, climbing and wandering
in oblivion of all but the light and shade, the shimmering torrent
and sheer rock, the cloud-like hills and deep clefts, till far on
the road below they spied a queer high-wheeled pony-chair, a lady in
a broad-leafed flat-crowned hat walking beside it, and the Hindoo's
unmistakable scarlet and white in attendance.
'Bless me!' cried Will, leaping up, 'didn't I mean to have carried poor
Jack to his chair! Time is nothing in these places!'
'Can we get down to them?'
'Of course! Charge, Chester, charge! Give me your hand, and I'll get
you down. I say, Robina,' in a lower, graver tone, 'I'm glad we've had
this sight together! We'll never forget it!'
Whatever sentiment might be conveyed in these words ended in as English
a view-halloo as ever startled the Pyrenees, causing the party below to
look up and wave gestures deprecatory of the headlong descent, which,
nevertheless, was effected without the fracture of limbs, though Robin
arrived breathless, and panting enough by no means to disdain a seat
by John's side. He was looking as happy as a king, in the enjoyment
of the mountain air and scenery after his long confinement on the
parching Egyptian sands; but it was silent delight, and when Robina had
recovered the physical agitation of her descent, she had time to feel
the heart-swelling at those words, and the afterthought whether it was
a stolen pleasure unless Wilmet fully knew how sweet it was to be sent
out with Will.
But speaking to Wilmet was no easy matter. She was engrossed with her
husband, and never willingly quitted him for a moment, thinking of
nothing but as it regarded him, and viewing his brother and her sister
more as means for his entertainment than in their substantial aspect.
She did indeed follow Robin to her room that evening, to satisfy
herself about the child's health; but just as the desperate struggle to
begin on this most awkward of subjects was being made, she fancied she
heard John's call, and was gone.
Next morning, not only were the two sent out together while the doctor
made his call, but William communicated to her the verses that he had
sat up late and risen early to relieve his mind of, beginning with--
'Can we ever forget this day?'
To be sure it was all mountain, and would have suited Lance equally
well with herself. It was shown to John as a 'March Hare' contribution,
and was destined to the Pursuivant; but did it not begin with _we_, and
had she not had the first-fruits? The consciousness grew more precious,
the conscientiousness more distressed, till it drove her, in her truth
and honesty, to the desperate measure of so decidedly begging for a
private interview, that Wilmet came at once, supposing her unwell.
'Oh no, no, but--but I wanted to make sure of its being right. All this
about Willie.'
'About Willie? He is in no scrape, I hope?'
'Oh no; only I could not be comfortable without your knowing. Those
verses, and--'
'You little goose! How red you have turned! I didn't think you could be
so silly.'
'It is not silliness,' exclaimed Robina, hotly; 'he said it.'
'My dear! he must know better. What and when?'
'Long ago. That evening at Bexley, just before Lance went to Vale
Leston.'
Wilmet fairly burst out laughing. 'My dear child, how can you bring me
here to listen to such nonsense? That sort of children's foolishness is
silly enough at the time, but to dwell on it nearly four years after is
too absurd.'
'I thought it might be play then,' said Robin, 'and everybody would
have laughed if I had told; but it never will quite go out of my head,
and now and then he says or does something that makes me think he has
not forgotten either, and I thought I ought to tell you.' She spoke low
and fast, with averted crimson face.
'You are a good little girl, Bobbie,' said her sister kindly, from
an immense matronly elevation; 'but it is a pity anything so foolish
and mischievous was ever said to you, and you ought never to have
thought of it again. You should have left the boy if he would talk such
nonsense.'
'I couldn't. Lance said we must not leave you alone,' murmured Robin.
Wilmet gave her little clear laugh. 'I'm very much obliged to Lance,'
she said; 'but I am sorry Willie was inspired with a spirit of
imitation.' Then, as the mirror betrayed an unconvinced look, 'Has he
said anything to you since?'
'I--I can't tell--you might not call it anything. Only that brooch! O
Wilmet, you aren't going to be angry with him--he never said anything
direct.'
'I shall say nothing to him without far more reason; I never saw any.
At home he talks to Cherry.'
'Yes, but--' she was ashamed to say 'he likes me best,' and it turned
into 'Everybody does.'
Which Wilmet could not gainsay; and she went on: 'As to the verses, you
have sense to see they mean nothing. Willie likes you, of course, and
we are all brothers and sisters now; but as for any more, it is the
merest absurdity to think of it, and though you mean to be good, my
dear little sister, this is just working up a mountain out of nothing.
There can't be a more unlucky propensity than fancying everybody is
paying you attention, especially if you are not particularly pretty,
and have to be a governess, and take care of yourself!'
'I know I'm not pretty,' said Robin, rather proudly; 'and I never shall
expect any one to pay attention to me;' and as Wilmet's smile denoted
incredulity after this specimen, '_this_ is quite different from anyone
else.'
'I should hope so,' said the elder sister. 'There now, Robin, you have
done quite right to tell me; and now we'll think no more about it, but
go on as usual.'
With this Robina had to be content; and if the incredulity was
mortifying, at any rate liberty was sweet, and there was a precious
underlying conviction that there was something that, if Wilmet would
not see, it was not her fault. Conscience was free to enjoy the
most brilliant spring her life had known. Throughout the fortnight
of William's stay they were out together nearly all day, sometimes
climbing near home, sometimes joining expeditions of English visitors,
always sympathising in seriousness or sportiveness, and ever ready to
fulfil the sisterly part of beast of burden towards his belongings when
he wanted to climb any specially inaccessible place, or smoke with the
friends he picked up. She always viewed that fortnight as the most
exquisite of her whole life!
There was no sentiment in their last walk; for a brother and sister,
who were always in the habit of fastening themselves on every one who
was seen going out, stuck to them to their own door; but when Will took
possession of two water-colour sketches he had begged from Robina, and
announced his intention of framing and hanging them in his rooms, to
call up before him what without them would never be forgotten, they won
for their artist a thrill of delight such as none of Geraldine's far
superior performances had ever obtained for her.
Robin had no one talent in any remarkable degree; her drawing was
exact and tasteful, but without genius; none of the Underwood sisters,
except Angela, had much voice, and her musical powers were only
cultivated at the expense of much diligence; but her general ability,
clear-headedness, and intelligence were excellent; and John surprised
his wife by observing that he thought she resembled Felix the most of
them all, both in countenance and character. Robin's--the round ruddy
face of the family--like Felix's defined delicately moulded features
and fair colouring! John smiled; he never took the trouble to defend an
opinion that Wilmet thought unreasonable, but he contented himself with
saying, 'There was a good deal of stuff in the Robin.'
She did not flag when her holiday was over; indeed, there was a quiet
purpose in her soul that made her dutiful industry doubly hopeful and
pleasant. She had a good master. John's nature was hard-working, and
the invigoration of cooler air made want of employment irksome enough
to give him great satisfaction in the acquisition of a well-grounded
intelligent girl pupil to whom his aid was of real value. Their lessons
and their subjects multiplied as his strength increased, and though
they had plenty of fun and nonsense over them, Robina soon felt herself
making such progress as far more than compensated for the two months
she had so much regretted. Wilmet, telling them that some day Robin
would know how pleasant it was to have nothing to do with teaching, sat
by, stitching at a set of shirts for Clement. It was her ambition, as a
parting gift, to provide each brother with a stock; she had made those
for Felix and Theodore by John's bedside at Rameses, and to be busy
with the 'white seam,' and watch John eager and interested, and daily
looking less languid and pinched, was entire happiness to her. The
walks and drives became longer, and the neighbour brother and sister
complained that Miss Underwood could never be had, and was always
absorbed by her hard task-master, whom on her side she thought a far
more entertaining companion than they would ever be.
The move to the mountain nest at Barèges was made, but the scheme made
in the warmth of their hearts in the spring, of William's spending
the long vacation there, was not fulfilled. Two objections stood in
the way; first his reading for honours, secondly the cost. He could
not afford another trip out of the proceeds of his scholarship, and
the Major's means were not so large as not to be seriously affected
by such an illness; while as Her Majesty's service had not required
his proximity to the engine, he could not obtain compensation for his
accident. When Wilmet had come to the understanding of the finances
she was to administer, she was startled at the free and open hand
which might suit a well-endowed bachelor officer on Indian pay, but
would soon drain the resources of a man--very possibly invalided for
life, and with a penniless wife. Robin would hardly have had that
wonderful cheque, if in Malta her sister had been altogether informed
of the balance at John's bankers; and when she was consulted on the
possibility of giving Bill a run, her reply was the more conclusive,
because, little importance as she attached to Robina's confession, she
preferred keeping the youth at a safe distance. Neither examination
would fare the better for mutual distractions on Pyrenean crags, and
both together they would be far less companionable to John than either
separately.
Beginning wedded life in prostrate helplessness, John had been as
entirely thought for, managed for, and 'done for,' as Theodore himself,
during these earlier months; and when he had a will of his own, it
was treated with indulgence as a sick man's fancy, and yielded to or
not according to his wife's judgment; but as time went on, there was
sometimes a twinkle of amusement on his eye-lashes when he submitted,
or withdrew an opinion rather than exert himself for controversy.