DUPLEY WALLS AFTER SEVEN YEARS.
Major Strickland rang the bell, and the door was opened by a servant
who was strange to Janet.
"Be good enough to inform Lady Pollexfen that Major Strickland and
Miss Holme have just arrived from town, and inquire whether her
ladyship has any commands."
The servant returned presently. "Her ladyship will see Major
Strickland. Miss Holme is to go to the housekeeper's room."
"I will see you again, poverina, after my interview with her
ladyship," said the major, as he went off in charge of the footman.
Janet, left alone, threaded her way by the old familiar passages to
the housekeeper's room. Dance was not there, being probably in
attendance on Lady Pollexfen, and Janet had the room to herself. Her
heart was heavy within her.
There was a chill sense of friendlessness, of being alone in the
world, upon her. Were these cold walls to be the only home her youth
would ever know? A few slow salt tears welled from her eyes as she sat
brooding over the little wood fire, till presently there came a sound
of footsteps, and the major's hand was laid caressingly on her
shoulder.
"What, all alone!" he said; "and with nothing better to do than read
fairy tales in the glowing embers! Is there no one in all this big
house to attend to your wants? But Dance will be here presently, I
have no doubt, and the good old soul will do her best to make you
comfortable. I have been to pay my respects to her ladyship, who is in
one of her unamiable moods this evening. I, however, contrived to
wring from her a reluctant consent to your paying Aunt Felicity and
me a visit now and then at Tydsbury, and it shall be my business to
see that the promise is duly carried out."
"Then I am to remain at Dupley Walls!" said Janet. "I thought it
probable that my visit might be for a few weeks only, as my first one
was."
"From what Lady Pollexfen said, I imagine that the present arrangement
is to be a permanent one; but she gave no hint of the mode in which
she intended to make use of your services, and that she will make use
of you in some way, no one who knows her can doubt. And now, dear, I
must say good-bye for the present; good-bye, and God bless you! You
may look to see me again within the week. Keep up your spirits,
and----but here comes Dance, who will cheer you up far better than I
can."
As the major went out, Dance came in. The good soul seemed quite
unchanged, except that she had grown older and mellower, and seemed to
have sweetened with age like an apple plucked unripe. A little cry of
delight burst from her lips the moment she saw Janet. But in the very
act of rushing forward with outstretched arms, she stopped. She
stopped, and stared, and then curtsied as though involuntarily. "If
the dead are ever allowed to come back to this earth, there is one of
them before me now!" she murmured.
Janet caught the words, but her heart was too full to notice them just
then. She had her arms round Dance's neck in a moment, and her bright
young head was pressed against the old servant's faithful breast.
"Oh! Dance, Dance, I am so glad you are come!"
"Hush! dear heart; hush! my poor child; you must not take on in that
way. It seems a poor coming home for you--for I suppose Dupley Walls
is to be your home in time to come--but there are those under this
roof that love you dearly. Eh! but you are grown tall and bonny, and
look as fresh and sweet as a morning in May. Her ladyship ought to be
proud of you. But she gets that cantankerous and cross-grained in her
old age, that you never know what will suit her for two minutes at a
time. For all that, her spirit is just wonderful, and she is a real
lady every inch of her. And you, Miss Janet, you are a thorough lady;
anybody can see that, and her ladyship will see it as soon as anybody.
She will like you none the worse for being a gentlewoman. But here am
I preaching away like any old gadabout, and you not as much as taken
your bonnet off yet. Get your things off, dearie, and I'll have a cup
of tea ready in no time, and you'll feel ever so much better when you
have had it."
Dance could scarcely take her eyes off Janet's face, so attracted was
she by the likeness which had wrung from her an exclamation on
entering the room.
But Janet was tired, and reserved all questions till the morrow; all
questions, except one. That one was,
"How is Sister Agnes?"
Dance shook her head solemnly. "No worse and no better than she has
been for the last two months. There is something lingering about her
that I don't like. She is far from well, and yet not exactly what we
call ill. Morning, noon, and night, she seems so terribly weary, and
that is just what frightens me. She has asked after you I don't know
how many times, and when tea is over you must go and see her. Only I
must warn you, dear Miss Janet, not to let your feelings overcome you
when you see her--not to make a scene. In that case your coming would
do her not good but harm."
Janet recovered her spirits in a great measure before tea was over.
She and Dance had much to talk about, many pleasant reminiscences to
call up and discuss. As if by mutual consent, Lady Pollexfen's name
was not mentioned between them.
As soon as tea was over, Dance went to inquire when Sister Agnes would
see Miss Holme. The answer was "I will see her at once."
So Janet went with hushed footsteps up the well-remembered staircase,
opened the door softly, and stood for a moment on the threshold.
Sister Agnes was lying on a sofa. She put her hand suddenly to her
side and rose to her feet as Janet entered the room. A tall wasted
figure robed in black, with a thin spiritualized face, the natural
pallor of which was just now displaced by a transient flush that faded
out almost as quickly as it had come. The white head-dress had been
cast aside for once, and the black hair streaked with silver, was tied
in a simple knot behind. The large dark eyes looked larger and darker
than they had ever looked before, and seemed lit up with an inner fire
that had its source in another world than ours.
Sister Agnes advanced a step or two and held out her arms. "My
darling!" was all she said as she pressed Janet to her heart, and
kissed her again and again. They understood each other without words.
The feeling within them was too deep to find expression in any
commonplace greeting.
The excitement of the meeting was too much for the strength of Sister
Agnes. She was obliged to lie down again. Janet sat by her side
caressing one of her wasted hands.
"Your coming has made me very, very happy," murmured Sister Agnes
after a time.
"Through all the seven dreary years of my school life," said Janet,
"the expectation of some day seeing you again was the one golden dream
that the future held before me. That dream has now come true. How I
have looked forward to this day none save those who have been
circumstanced as I have can more than faintly imagine."
"Are you at all acquainted with Lady Pollexfen's intentions in asking
you to come to Dupley Walls?"
"Not in the least. A fortnight ago I had no idea that I should so soon
be here. I knew that I could not stay much longer at the Pension
Clissot, and naturally wondered what instructions Madame Duclos would
receive from Lady Pollexfen as to my disposal. The last time I saw her
ladyship, her words seemed to imply that after my education should be
finished I should have to trust to my own exertions for earning a
livelihood; in fact, I have looked upon myself all along as ultimately
destined to add one more unit to the great tribe of governesses."
"Such a fate shall not be yours if my weak arm has power to avert it,"
said Sister Agnes. "For the present your services are required at
Dupley Walls, in the capacity of 'companion' to Lady Pollexfen--in
brief, to occupy the position held by me for so many years, but from
which I am now obliged to secede on account of ill health."
Janet was almost too astounded to speak. "Companion to Lady Pollexfen!
Me! Impossible!" was all that she could say.
"Why impossible, dear Janet?" asked Sister Agnes, with her low, sweet
voice. "I see no element of impossibility in such an arrangement. The
duties of the position have been filled by me for many years, they
have now devolved upon you, and I am not aware of anything that need
preclude your acceptance of them."
"We are not all angels like you, Sister Agnes," said Janet. "Lady
Pollexfen, as I remember, is a very peculiar woman. She has no regard
for the feelings of others, especially when those others are her
inferiors in position. She says the most cruel things she can think
of, and cares nothing how deeply they may wound. I am afraid that she
and I would never agree."
"That Lady Pollexfen is a very peculiar woman I am quite ready to
admit. That she will say things to you that may seem hard and cruel,
and that may wound your feelings, I will also allow. But granting all
this, I can deduce from it no reason why the position should be
refused by you. Had you gone out as governess, you would probably have
had fifty things to contend against quite as disagreeable as Lady
Pollexfen's temper and cynical remarks. You are young, dear Janet, and
life's battle has yet to be fought by you. You must not expect that
everything in this world will arrange itself in accordance with your
wishes. You will have many difficulties to fight against and overcome,
and the sooner you make up your mind to the acceptance of that fact,
the better it will be for you in every way. If I have found the
position of companion to Lady Pollexfen not quite unendurable, why
should it be found so by you? Besides, her ladyship has many claims
upon you--upon your best services in every way. Every farthing that
has been spent upon you from the day you were born to the present time
has come out of her purse. Except mere life itself, you owe everything
to her. And even if this were not so, there are other and peculiar
ties between you and her of which you know nothing (although you may
possibly be made acquainted with them by-and-by), which are in
themselves sufficient to lead her to expect every reasonable obedience
at your hands. You must clothe yourself with good temper, dear Janet,
as with armour of proof. You must make up your mind beforehand that
however harsh her ladyship's remarks may sometimes seem, you will not
answer her again. Do this, and her words will soon be powerless to
sting you. Instead of feeling hurt or angry, you will be inclined to
pity her--to pray for her. And she deserves pity, Janet, if any woman
in this sinful world ever did. To have severed of her own accord those
natural ties which other people cherish so fondly; to see herself
fading into a dreary old age, and yet of her own free will to shut out
the love that should attend her by the way and strew flowers on her
path; to have no longer a single earthly hope or pleasure beyond those
connected with each day's narrow needs or with the heaping together of
more money where there was enough before--in all this there is surely
room enough for pity, but none for any harsher feeling."
"Dear Sister Agnes, your words make me thoroughly ashamed of myself,"
said Janet, with tearful earnestness. "Arrogance ill becomes one like
me who have been dependent on the charity of others from the day of my
birth. Whatever task may be set me either by Lady Pollexfen or by you,
I will do it to the best of my ability. Will you for this once pardon
my petulance and ill temper, and I will strive not to offend you
again?"
"I am not offended, darling; far from it. I felt sure that you had
good sense and good feeling enough to see the matter in its right
light when it was properly put before you. But have you no curiosity
as to the nature of your new duties?"
"Very little at present, I must confess," answered Janet, with a wan
smile. "The chief thing for which I care just now is to know that so
long as I remain at Dupley Walls I shall be near you; and that of
itself would be sufficient to enable me to rest contented under worse
inflictions than Lady Pollexfen's ill temper."
"You ridiculous Janet! Ah! if I only dared to tell you everything. But
that must not be. Let us rather talk of what your duties will be in
your new situation."
"Yes, tell me about them, please," said Janet, "and you shall see in
time to come that your words have not been forgotten."
"To begin: you will have to go to her ladyship's room precisely at
eight every morning. Sometimes she will not want you, in which case
you will be at liberty till after breakfast. Should she want you it
will probably be to read to her while she sips her chocolate, or it
may be to play a game of backgammon with her before she gets up. A
little later on you will be able to steal an hour or so for yourself,
as while her ladyship is undergoing the elaborate processes of the
toilette, your services will not be required. On coming down, if the
weather be fine, she will want the support of your arm during her
stroll on the terrace. If the weather be wet, she will probably attend
to her correspondence and bookkeeping, and you will have to fill the
parts both of amanuensis and accountant. When Mr. Madgin, her
ladyship's man of business, comes up to Dupley Walls, you will have to
be in attendance to take notes, write down instructions, and so on.
By-and-by will come luncheon, of which, as a rule, you will partake
with her. After luncheon you will be your own mistress for an hour
while her ladyship sleeps. The moment she awakes you will have to be
in attendance, either to play to her, or else to read to her--perhaps
a little French or Italian, in both of which languages I hope that you
are tolerably proficient. Your next duty will be to accompany her
ladyship in her drive out. When you get back, will come dinner, but
only when specially invited will you sit down with her ladyship. When
that honour is not accorded you, you and I will dine here, darling, by
our two selves."
"Then I hope her ladyship will not invite me oftener than once a
month," cried impulsive Janet.
"The number of your invitations to dinner will depend upon the extent
of her liking for you, so that we shall soon know whether or no you
are a favourite. She may or may not require you after dinner. If she
does require you, it may be either for reading or music, or to play
backgammon with her; or even to sit quietly with her without speaking,
for the mere sake of companionship. One fact you will soon discover
for yourself--that her ladyship does not like to be long alone. And
now, dearest, I think I have told you enough for the present. We will
talk further of these things to-morrow. Give me just one kiss, and
then see what you can find to play among that heap of old music on the
piano. Madame Duclos used to write in raptures of your style and
touch. We will now prove whether her eulogy was well founded."
Janet found that she was not to occupy the same bedroom as on her
first visit to Dupley Walls, but one nearer that of Sister Agnes. She
was not sorry for this, for there had been a secret dread upon her of
having to sleep in a room so near to that occupied by the body of Sir
John Pollexfen. She had never forgotten her terrible experience in
connexion with the Black Room, and she wished to keep herself entirely
free from any such influences in time to come. The first question she
asked Dance when they reached her bedroom was:--
"Does Sister Agnes still visit the Black Room every midnight?"
"Yes, for sure," answered Dance. "There is no one but her to do it.
Her ladyship would not allow any of the servants to enter the room.
Rather than that, I believe she would herself do what has to be done
there. Sister Agues would not neglect that duty if she was dying."
Janet said no more, but then and there she made up her mind to a
certain course of action, of which nothing would have made her believe
herself capable only an hour before.
Early next forenoon she was summoned to an interview with Lady
Pollexfen. Her heart beat more quickly than common as she was ushered
by Dance into the old woman's dressing-room.
Her ladyship was in demie-toilette--made up in part for the day, but
not yet finished. Her black wig, with its long corkscrew curls, was
carefully adjusted; her rouge and powder were artistically laid on,
her eyebrows elaborately pointed, and in so far she looked as she
always looked when visible to any one but her maid. But her figure
wanted bracing up, so to speak, and looked shrunken and shrivelled in
the old cashmere dressing-robe, from which at that early hour she had
not emerged. Her fingers--long, lean, and yellow--were decorated with
some half dozen valuable rings. Increasing years had not tended to
make her hands steadier than Janet remembered them as being when she
last saw her ladyship; and of late it had become a matter of some
difficulty with her to keep her head quite still: it seemed possessed
by an unaccountable desire to imitate the shaking of her hands. She
was seated in an easy chair as Janet entered the room. Her breakfast
equipage was on a small table at her elbow.
As the door closed behind Janet, she stood still and curtsied.
Lady Pollexfen placed her glass to her eye, and with a lean forefinger
beckoned to Janet to draw near. Janet advanced, her eyes fixed
steadily on those of Lady Pollexfen. A yard or two from the table she
stopped and curtsied again.
"I hope that I have the happiness of finding your ladyship quite
well," she said, in a low clear voice, in which there was not the
slightest tremor or hesitation.
"And pray, Miss Holme, what can it matter to you whether I am well or
ill? Answer me that if you please."
"I owe so much to your ladyship, I have been such a pensioner on your
bounty ever since I can remember anything, that mere selfishness
alone, if no higher motive be allowed me, must always prompt me to
feel an interest in the state of your ladyship's health."
"Candid, at any rate. But I wish you clearly to understand that
whatever obligation you may feel yourself under to me for what is past
and gone, you have no claim of any kind upon me for the future. The
tie between us can be severed by me at any moment."
"Seven years ago your ladyship impressed that fact so strongly on my
mind that I have never forgotten it. I have never felt myself to be
other than a dependent on your bounty."
"A very praiseworthy feeling, young lady, and one which I trust you
will continue to cherish. Not that I wish other people to look upon
you as a dependent. I wish----." She broke off abruptly, and stared
helplessly round the room. Suddenly her head began to shake. "Heaven
help me! what do I wish?" she exclaimed; and with that she began to
cry, and seemed all in a moment to have grown older by twenty years.
Janet, in her surprise, made a step or two forward, but Lady Pollexfen
waved her fiercely back. "Fool! fool! why don't you go away?" she
cried. "Why do you stare at me so? Go away, and send Dance to me. You
have spoiled my complexion for the day."
Janet left the room and sent Dance to her mistress, and then went for
a ramble in the grounds. The seal of desolation and decay was set upon
everything. The garden, no longer the choice home of choice flowers,
was weed-grown and neglected. The greenhouses were empty, and falling
to pieces for lack of a few simple repairs. The shrubs and evergreens
had all run wild for want of pruning, and in several places the
dividing hedges were broken down, and through the breaches sheep had
intruded themselves into the private grounds. Even the house itself
had a shabby out-at-elbows air, like a gentleman fallen upon evil
days. Several of the upper windows were shuttered, some of the others
showed a broken pane or two. Here and there a shutter had fallen away,
or was hanging by a solitary hinge, suggesting thoughts of ghostly
flappings to and fro in the rough wind on winter nights. Doors and
window frames were blistering and splitting for want of paint.
Close by the sacred terrace itself lay the fragments of a broken
chimney-pot, blown down during the last equinoctial gales and suffered
to lie where it had fallen. Everywhere were visible tokens of that
miserly thrift which, carried to excess, degenerates into unthrift of
the worst and meanest kind, from which the transition to absolute ruin
is both easy and certain. For a full hour Janet trod the weed-grown
walks with clasped hands and saddened eyes. At the end of that time
Dance came in search of her. Lady Pollexfen wanted to see her again.
END OF VOL. I.