QUIET DAYS
'The slow, sweet hours that bring us all things good.'--_Tennyson._
The next morning, after breakfast, Miss Rayner took me all over her
chicken farm. It was most interesting to me, as I had never seen
anything of the sort before. All the houses and contrivances for the
chickens, from the time they left their egg-shells, were so perfect in
every little detail, and the incubators I thought charming. A brood of
little chicks were just hatched, but I could not help expressing my
regret to Miss Rayner that they had no proper mother.
'They must miss such a lot,' I said; 'it seems such a desolate state to
be in.'
'We never miss what we have not been accustomed to,' Miss Rayner said
briskly. 'Much better have no mother than a bad one, and hens are not
better than most folks--they very often ill-treat their young.'
I saw, from the way she went about and superintended everything, that
her whole heart was with her poultry, and she was one to do all that
came to her hand both thoroughly and well. Her servants seemed devoted
to her, though I heard her scolding her outdoor man so severely that I
wondered he stood it as meekly as he did.
I soon became quite at home, and enjoyed my new life immensely. I was
left pretty much to myself in the morning, but in the afternoon Miss
Rayner would often invite me out for a long walk or drive. She rode a
great deal, and persuaded me to accompany her on a very quiet chestnut
mare.
I had taken riding lessons at school, but had not had much opportunity
of riding since, and the Forsyths never seemed to have a horse to
spare. It was a great pleasure to me now, and I could not but enjoy
Miss Rayner's society. She was a cultivated, well-read woman, and her
conversation was very different to that to which I had been accustomed.
She made me feel my own ignorance on many subjects, and I was glad to
read the books and reviews she placed in my hands.
One evening she had given me a fresh book, dealing with some of the
questions of the present day, and had said that she would like me to
study it, for the writer was a clever and rising author.
I read on for some time in silence, and then I put it down.
'Is it too deep for you?' she asked.
'No,' I replied; 'but I don't like it.'
'I am surprised. There is such a decided religious tone in it that I
thought it would just suit you.'
'It is just that tone I don't like. It represents some of the Bible
truths so unfairly.'
'In what way?'
'In speaking of God's justice----'
'Please explain,' she said, as I faltered.
'Justice is not cruelty, Miss Rayner. I suppose he holds the same
views that so many seem to hold. And even in novels now that you get
at a circulating library you constantly come across the same thing--a
kind of contempt for the "old, narrow doctrines," as they call them,
bringing down God's standard to theirs, and condemning what they cannot
understand.'
Miss Rayner laughed.
'You are getting hot over their iniquities. I did not know you were
such a critical young person.'
'I can't bear the Bible being made light of,' I said. 'They cut away
and put their own interpretation on the most solemn truths. Do you
agree with this man, Miss Rayner?'
'In the face of such severe criticism, I should be bold to say I did,'
was the laughing reply; then she added, more seriously, 'I don't really
know what I do believe. Perhaps you would be shocked at some of my
theories. I never trouble my head about doctrines; a man's life is
more important than his creed.'
'And what kind of a life do you believe in?' I asked.
'An upright, honourable life, in which all lying and humbug would not
find a place. A life spent for the good of one's fellow-creatures is
the noblest one, but few attain to that. I think we ought to leave
some the better for our influence when we depart this life.'
'And then?' I asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. '"Sufficient unto the day is the evil
thereof." The present is what we have to deal with, not the future.
Don't look so shocked, child. If you question me so closely, what am I
to do? I am not an unbeliever. I go to church every Sunday morning,
and, as you see, I keep up the old custom of family prayers once a day.
Don't judge other people as heathen because they may not think exactly
the same as yourself.'
I said no more. I felt too young and inexperienced to argue with a
woman of such a stamp as Miss Rayner. She would lean back in her
chair, and look and listen to me with an amused twinkle in her eyes;
but as for being convinced of the truth by anything that I said, that,
I knew, was a moral impossibility. Yet, when I went to my room that
night, I prayed earnestly for her, and felt more than ever the comfort
that what was impossible to man was easy and possible to God, and the
Holy Spirit Himself could convince her of her need of a Saviour.
I was a little troubled lest, through cowardice, I had not made as good
a use of the opportunity as I might have done; so the next morning, at
breakfast, I said to her,--
'Miss Rayner, I have been thinking over our conversation last night.
Do you think doing good to our fellow-creatures is all that God
requires of us? Is He Himself not to have a place in our life? What
do you think of words like these, "Thou hast created all things, and
for Thy pleasure they are and were created"?'
'Now, look here,' she said good-naturedly, 'I am not going to be
preached to. The chief thing that made me take to you was, that you
were not a prig, with all your extreme devotedness. And I will not
enter into religious discussions. I might disturb your faith, and I
don't want to do that. Keep your religion to yourself, and live it
out, child, if you want to impress others. I am sick of cant and
humbug--be real and true, and you are sure to commend your views to
others, but you will never do it by preaching at them.'
I coloured up. 'I didn't mean to preach,' I began.
'You felt it was on your conscience to say more to me. Oh, I know all
about it! I can read your face like a book, and you took about ten
minutes to make up your mind to do it.'
I could not help laughing at her tone, but said no more, as I saw how
useless it would be.
It was a few days after this that Kenneth made his appearance. He rode
up to the door just as we were sitting down to luncheon.
'What do you want?' asked Miss Rayner sharply, as she made him welcome
at the table. 'I am not accustomed to visits from you.'
'No,' Kenneth said, laughing; 'I only came to see how Goody Two-Shoes
was getting on, and whether she wants to come home again.'
'I am very happy here, thank you,' I said.
'I was not aware that the arrangement of her affairs was in your
hands,' Miss Rayner remarked drily.
Kenneth laughed again good-humouredly. 'Well, you see, my father is
away, and I am acting as his representative. What do you think of her,
aunt? Has she been trying to convert you yet?'
Miss Rayner's eyes sparkled a little as she looked across at me. 'I am
not going to tell tales,' she said. 'We understand each other, I
think--at any rate, we are trying to.'
'I am afraid she has not had sufficient scope at our house, for we are
too many for her,' Kenneth pursued; 'the only one who was amenable to
her influence was Captain Gates. I really believe he was quite
willing, only she wouldn't do it for him, when it came to the point.'
'Oh, hush, Kenneth!' I exclaimed. 'Please don't talk so; you know how
I dislike it.'
'I am afraid Gates has lost his chance,' Kenneth continued, with one of
his provoking smiles. 'I met him last week, Goody, and what do you
think he was doing? Now don't look so indifferent, for, remember, if
he goes to the dogs, it will be you who has driven him there. He was
packing his things up for Monte Carlo. And he is going to propose to
the first heiress that he comes across, for he is desperately hard up
just now.'
I felt my cheeks get hot, and I knew that Miss Rayner's eyes were
scanning me closely.
'How is Violet?' I asked. 'Isn't she feeling rather lonely?'
'I never set eyes on her,' was the brotherly reply, 'except that before
I got off this morning she came rushing out with all sorts of messages
to you. I told her I shouldn't remember half. One was that she wanted
you back, I think; the other, that Miss Graham had taken your precious
Sunday class, and had found it so entertaining that she was going to
try it again.'
'Oh, I am so glad!' I exclaimed. 'I was hoping she would; and is she
going to give Jim a reading-lesson in the week, do you know?'
'That I can't tell you.'
After luncheon, Miss Rayner went down to the village on some errand,
and then Kenneth inquired, 'Is she treating you well?'
'Of course,' I replied; 'she is most kind, and I am enjoying myself
very much.'
'What on earth do you do with yourself all day in this out-of-the-way
hole? Have you seen a single visitor since you have been here?'
'Not one,' I said, laughing; 'and for myself, I would just as soon be
without them.'
'We are awfully slow at home just now,' Kenneth said; 'Hugh is as
grumpy and cross as two sticks. I dine out whenever I can, and shoot
everything I come across in the day-time. I even condescend to
rabbits, if there's nothing better on hand. I think we shall have the
house pretty full when the girls come back. Amongst other people, Hugh
is asking a new crony of his, some scientific fellow whom he raves
about.'
'I never heard him rave about anybody or anything!' I remarked.
'It is raving for him, when he tells you that his chum is thought no
end of by different celebrities, and that he considers it an honour to
have him under our unworthy roof--or words to that effect. Mother will
be delighted to have him, as he is unmarried, and has a big estate
somewhere.'
'Have you heard from Nelly?' I asked, changing the subject, as I did
not like his sneering tone.
'Had a letter from her yesterday; she and Constance are going at it
night and day. I say, Goody, how much longer are you going to stay
here? Couldn't you tell the aunt you have had enough of it, and come
back? It is too slow for anything just now. I promise you some nice
little treats if you come. We will go up the river--you and I--and we
shall have it all our own way, for there will be nobody to interfere
with us.'
'I have promised to stay here till Mrs. Forsyth comes back,' I said.
'Oh, bother your promise! Say you found it too slow, and couldn't
stand it any longer.'
'But I don't find it slow,' I said, looking at him full in the face.
'I think I like Miss Rayner's society better than yours.'
Kenneth looked quite taken aback at first, and then we both laughed
together.
'It's true,' I persisted.
'I don't believe it; I shall give you a dose of my society to-day, for
I shall stay on to dinner here. What shall we do this afternoon?'
'Miss Rayner does not expect you to stay on,' I said, 'for she wished
you good-bye before she went out just now.'
'I know she did, but I intend to stay, all the same.'
And this he did, telling Miss Rayner when she came in that there was no
dinner at home, Hugh was in town, and he was sure she would offer him
further hospitality.
Kenneth could be very amusing when he liked, and he certainly brought a
fresh element into our quiet life. He asked me to play on my violin
after dinner, and when I had finished he turned to Miss Rayner and
said, 'That is Goody's strong forte--that instrument of hers. She
could charm a man's soul away by some of her strains!' And then he
took his leave.
There was silence between us for some time after his departure. I
thought Miss Rayner was reading, and though I was professedly doing the
same, my thoughts kept wandering off to Captain Gates. I wondered if I
was responsible for his going back to his old reckless life. He had
told me once what a snare gambling had been to him, and how much he
wanted to give it up. This visit to Monte Carlo would plunge him into
the midst of it again.
I was startled out of my reverie by Miss Rayner's voice saying, 'What
pictures are you seeing in the fire, child?'
I looked up. 'I was only thinking,' I said.
'So I suppose. Who is this Captain Gates that Kenneth mentioned?'
I coloured. How often she seemed to read my thoughts! 'A friend of
Kenneth who often comes to stay with the Forsyths.'
'And what has he to do with you, or you with him?'
I hesitated, then said in a low voice, 'He wanted me to marry him, and
I couldn't!'
'Why not?'
'I--I didn't care enough for him, and we should not have suited each
other. He leads a very gay life.'
'But I suppose he vowed he would give all that up?'
'Yes, he did; but I don't think he would have done so.'
And then, encouraged by a softening in her tone and manner, I told Miss
Rayner all, asking her at the end if she did not think I had acted
rightly.
'Quite right,' she said emphatically; 'but be thankful you were not
head over ears in love with him, for your decision would have cost you
something then.'
She spoke with such intense feeling that I could not help thinking
there must be something behind her words, especially when she continued
in low, earnest tones: 'Better go through life lonely and single, than
tie yourself to a man whose aim and object in life is directly contrary
to yours. There can be only misery for both if you act otherwise. And
cut the connection at once for his sake, more than for your own. It is
only prolonging the agony.'
I did not speak, and then, with a short laugh, Miss Rayner seemed to
recover herself. 'What am I saying? Perhaps some day I may tell you a
chapter in my life, child--but not now. You have not had to go through
such a sharp ordeal as I have. I am afraid there is nothing for it but
a curate for you. Holding your present views, you would find no
pleasure in a man of the world.'
'Surely every one is not bound to have a husband?' I said, half
laughing, half vexed with her light, mocking tone.
'I should say you were sure to have one,' she retorted; 'perhaps your
views will melt away when you come across some one that you really
fancy.'
I shook my head, but dropped the subject, wondering, with a girlish
curiosity, what Miss Rayner's life story was.