MRS. LAVENDER'S PLAN.
WHEN Cecil found herself outside the gates of Miss Pinchin's school,
she felt exactly like someone on whom the gates of Paradise had been
closed. She had had a moment of strong and vigorous hope; this had been
changed as quickly to despair. Miss Pinchin would have given her the
coveted post, had she been certificated. A girl without certificates
was nowhere now in the world of learning. No matter how intelligent she
was, no matter how really well informed, she had no chance whatever
against the cut-and-dry acquirements which the certificated girl was
supposed to possess. Cecil metaphorically wrung her hands.
"What am I to do?" she said to herself. "I know I can teach those
girls just splendidly, and because I have not passed the Cambridge
Junior and Senior, I am shut away from all chance of getting a really
good post. Oh, if I could only go to Redgarth, if only for a year; but
there, I fear I must put that completely out of my head. Molly's letter
was scarcely reassuring, and even if her father is willing to lend me
the money, how am I to manage matters for those dear, troublesome,
good-humored, noisy boys of mine?"
Cecil was walking back quickly to the town as these thoughts coursed
through her busy brain. She was accustomed to utilize every moment
of her time, and anxious and miserable as she felt this morning,
these facts did not prevent her accomplishing several little items of
necessary housekeeping with directness and dispatch. She returned home
in time to hand over materials for a good dinner to Miss Marshall's
tender mercies, and then entered her little parlor, sighing more than
once as the reflection came to her, that, in all probability, this
little home, this poor little haven of refuge, would not long be hers.
The first thing her eyes lighted on as she came into the room was a
letter addressed to herself.
"The postman has just brought it, Miss Ross," said the landlady,
whisking out of the room as she spoke, and shutting the door after her.
Cecil took up the letter languidly. It bore the London postmark, the
writing on the cover was stiff and slanting, and had the tremulous
appearance which generally characterizes the writing of the very old.
Notwithstanding this, however, it was a careful and well-formed hand.
Cecil hastily tore it open, and read the following words:
MY DEAR CECIL:
It is important that I should see you without delay.
Can your brothers spare you for one night? I have
made inquiries, and find that you will receive this
before noon to-morrow. A train leaves Hazlewick for
London at two o'clock. If you take it, you will arrive
at Paddington a little before five. Do not lose that
train, and come prepared to sleep the night here. I
will promise not to deprive your young brothers of your
company for more than one night.
Your affectionate old friend,
MARY LAVENDER.
P.S.--I inclose a postal order for traveling expenses.
First-class fare; don't forget.
A great flood of color mounted into Cecil's pale cheeks as she read
this unlooked-for letter. She thought deeply for a moment, then
resolved not to lose a moment in going to see Mrs. Lavender.
"The old lady, in all probability, wants to ask me some questions
before writing to Molly's father," she said to herself. "Oh, I must put
Redgarth out of my head, but how splendid if I only could go! If it
were not for the boys, now; but there, the boys exist, and they are the
treasures and joy of my life."
Cecil rushed up to her room to make preparations. When Maurice and his
three brothers arrived for dinner, they were surprised to see their
sister in "her best bib and tucker," as Jimmy expressed it.
"Now what's up, old girl?" asked that incorrigible small boy.
"Nothing so dreadful, Jimmy," she answered. "I am going to London by
the next train, that's all; expect me back, all of you, to-morrow. Now
I do hope you will try to be good boys."
"Oh, crikey!" said Jimmy, cracking his fingers.
"And not wake Mrs. Rogers," pursued Cecil, fixing her eyes steadily on
the eager faces of the three younger ones; "and, Jimmy, pray don't go
down again to the kitchen to eat food on the quiet; you know that if
you're hungry you've only to tell me; we have not come to that pass
yet, that I would let any of my boys go hungry."
"I won't do it again," said Jimmy, turning away from a look which
Maurice gave him; he did not want to meet Maurice's grave eyes. Maurice
used to tell him in private that he was a beastly cad when he did mean
things of that sort.
"Now, look here," said Maurice, coming to the front, as he always did
when he noticed a look of distress on Cecil's face, "I'm going to take
care of these youngsters. I promise, on my honor, that they shall be as
good as gold, and not do one single thing you don't wish them to. Now,
sit down and eat a good dinner, Cecil. Why, you look as white and tired
as can be. No nonsense; you're not going to help us. I'll manage the
dinner after you're gone. Sit down and have a nice piece of steak. Let
me be the head of the house just for once."
"Oh, Maurice, what a comfort you are!" exclaimed Cecil. "I wonder if
you'd be such a darling as to----"
"Nonsense! I'm going to be the darling now," said Teddy. "What do
you want done, Ceci? Maurice isn't the only one who has got a pair
of legs, please remember, nor the only one who has got a head on his
shoulders, for the matter of that."
"You'll do nicely, Teddy, thank you," answered Cecil. "Here's this
postal order,--I have filled my name in,--take it to the post office,
and bring me back the money. Now be very careful and steady."
Teddy started off immediately on his errand. In ten minutes' time he
brought back the necessary fare for Cecil's journey. She bade "good-by"
to her brothers, promised to be back in time for early dinner on the
following day, and started off to the railway station with considerable
interest and excitement. All her low spirits had vanished; life was
once more rosy with hope. It was very nice to get away from home
worries, even for twenty-four hours; to travel first-class was in
itself a pleasing variety. When Cecil really found herself rushing away
in this comfortable style toward London, she almost laughed aloud with
girlish glee.
Cecil's face was naturally a grave one, but when pleased or specially
interested about anything, it had a particularly eager and bright
expression. A wideawake look filled her dark eyes; they seemed to
take in at a glance all that went on around her; hope shone in
their brown depths; smiles went and came round her happy lips; an
enthusiastic ring would even come into the tones of her voice. Cecil's
morning had been filled with difficulties, but this unexpected and
delightful change altered the whole complexion of affairs. Cecil
had gone through a terrible year. A year ago she was a schoolgirl,
receiving an ordinary education, and looking forward to doing well
for herself in the scholastic world by and by; but great trouble had
come unexpectedly--the mother to whom she was devoted had died, and
unlooked-for money losses had added to the difficulties of the brave
girl's position.
She was now the sole guardian and care-taker of her four young
brothers, and although she was possessed of splendid talents, and could
have earned plenty of money as a first-class teacher, she had not the
required certificates to enable her to take any high position in the
educational world. Cecil was too proud to complain, but the feeling
that for lack of certain technical knowledge she must always keep in
the background--that her gifts, however great, could by no possibility
meet with recognition--had a terribly damping effect on her life. Miss
Pinchin's remarks to her that very morning had seemed like the final
extinguisher to every hope; now, however, she could afford to laugh at
Miss Pinchin. After all, what did Mrs. Lavender want her for? Why did
she ask her to go to her in such a hurry? Why did she pay her fare up
to town? Oh, yes, hope was again in the ascendant; hope was sending
Cecil's young spirits up to a high pitch. How delightful it was to be
flying along at express speed in a first-class carriage! how luxurious
those padded cushions felt! how lovely the autumn tints on the trees
looked! There was Windsor Castle in the distance; now she caught a peep
of the river Thames. How beautiful the world was, after all!
"Oh, I shall succeed!" said Cecil to herself. "After all, I shall
succeed! Maurice shall have the wish of his heart, and the three other
boys shall start in the world as gentlemen. I will do all this for
them. Yes, yes! Oh, I promised mother when she was dying! I vowed to
succeed, and I will; I must, I shall. I am young, and the world is
before me, I feel the ball at my feet. Won't I give it a good kick when
I get the chance? Oh, if only mother had lived, what an old age of
happiness I could have given her! But there, I dare not think of that;
but I will succeed for the boys' sakes, and for the sake of her sweet
memory--oh, yes, oh, yes!"
The train arrived in due course at Paddington. Cecil did not know
London well, and she had difficulty for a moment or two in keeping
her head in the midst of the whirl in which she found herself. At
last, however, aided by an intelligent porter, she threaded her way
in safety to a hansom, gave the man Mrs. Lavender's address, and was
soon whirling away into a fresh world. The distance from Paddington to
Bayswater was accomplished in a little over ten minutes. The hansom
drew up abruptly before the deep portico of a tall house, and Cecil,
feeling once more nervous and strange, ran up the steps. The door
was opened to her by a neat parlor-maid, who told her that she was
expected, and took her immediately up a low flight of stairs into a
beautiful drawing room.
"Will you take a seat, miss," she said, "while I go and tell my
mistress that you have arrived?"
Cecil sank into a deep armchair, and looked about her. She had never
been in Mrs. Lavender's house before, although she had often been
regaled with descriptions of it from Molly. Molly's holidays were
spent in these rooms. Yes, the drawing room was very pretty--handsome,
perhaps, was a better word. There were a great lot of gimcracks, as
Maurice would term them, about: heaps of little tables, lots of chairs
of every description, pictures, photographs, a stand of lovely ferns,
a tall palm in one corner, and just behind the palm, what? Cecil, who
was beginning to feel lonely and a little strange, jumped up suddenly,
pushed the palm slightly aside, and gazed with delight at a water-color
drawing of Molly--it represented Molly's sweet, frank face at its best.
The eyes smiled into Cecil's now, assured her of Molly's faithful love,
and cheered her inexpressibly.
The door opened behind. Cecil turned eagerly; the parlor-maid had again
entered the room; she carried a little tea tray in her hands.
"Will you please help yourself to some tea, miss?" she said. "Mrs.
Lavender begs that you will do so. When you have quite finished, will
you kindly ring this bell, and I will come and take you to your room?
My mistress says she will be glad to see you in her own boudoir at six
o'clock, miss."
"Thank you," replied Cecil.
The maid left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
"What a quiet, hushed sort of feeling I have!" thought Cecil to
herself. "At home, doors bang everywhere; don't the boys make a
clatter, even when they move! Even Miss Marshall is not the quietest of
souls. Yes, everything is restless at home, and here there is peace. I
believe I could study here--or no, perhaps instead of studying I should
go to sleep. I might become a lotos-eater, there's no saying. Well,
there is no chance of my lot falling to me in this quiet place, and
perhaps I am glad; but, at any rate, a little rest is delightful, and
this tea looks delicious."
Cecil helped herself, pouring the tea into the dainty china, dropping
in tiny lumps of sugar, and pouring cream out of a little embossed jug
of old silver. She was very thirsty, and ended by drinking all the tea
which the little teapot contained, and finishing the wafer-like bread
and butter, which was scarcely a sufficient meal for her healthy young
appetite.
When she had finished, the maid reappeared to take her to a pretty
little room, which, she told her with a smile, belonged to Miss
Lavender.
Cecil hastily washed her hands and smoothed her hair, and punctual to
the hour returned to the drawing room. A moment or two later she was
ushered into Mrs. Lavender's presence.
The boudoir, as it was called, adjoined the drawing room. It was a
quaint little room, furnished in the early French style. Everything
about it was extremely delicate. Most of the chairs had high backs,
the many small, tables were of finished workmanship, and there was a
great deal of old china about. There was a very thick carpet on the
floor, and heavy velvet curtains hung from the windows and covered the
entrance door. There was a hushed sort of feel in the room, which made
Cecil inclined to speak in a whisper the very moment she entered. Mrs.
Lavender sat in a high-backed chair by the fire. She was a tiny woman,
dressed in the period of sixty years ago. She wore lace mittens on her
little hands; her dress was of dull black silk, a white muslin kerchief
was crossed over her bosom, and a cap of the finest white lace adorned
her snow-white hair.
"How do you do, my dear?" she said, when Cecil came in. "Sit down, pray
sit down. Anne,"--here Mrs. Lavender turned to the servant,--"please
be careful to shut the door quietly, and don't come in on any pretext
until I ring for you. Now, my dear Cecil, you will wonder why I have
sent for you in this hurry. I have done so because an idea has come to
me, and suspense at my age is bad and disquieting. I have an idea about
you, Cecil. Before I tell it to you, however, I want to know if you are
willing to be a sensible girl, and to do exactly, and without any fuss,
what I tell you?"
"Yes, I will do anything," replied Cecil. A flush of color rushed into
her pale face. "Your letter has excited me dreadfully," she said,
looking full at the old lady as she spoke.
Mrs. Lavender sighed. She had a delicate sort of complexion, which
belongs to certain temperaments. Her face resembled old china, it was
transparently pink and white; her eyes were bright blue. She looked
old, but very pretty. All her surroundings seemed in touch with her
fragile and _chic_ appearance. As Cecil looked at her, she felt
suddenly quite out of harmony with everything which surrounded her.
"How big I am!" thought poor Cecil. "I hardly dare to rest on this
chair; I am certain if I lean back it will break. As to my hands, they
look quite enormous. I dread touching anything. The fact is, there is
not room for me in this boudoir. I feel just like a bull in a china
shop. Oh, dear, dear! This is not the first time I have seen dear Mrs.
Lavender. Why do I feel so nervous before her now?"
The pretty little old lady sat very still while these thoughts were
rushing through Cecil's mind.
"There is not the least hurry, my love," she said. "I have long passed
the stage of being excited about things. I can give you from six to
seven for this little interview. At seven I dine alone. At eight
o'clock we will meet in the drawing room, where, perhaps, you will
be kind enough to read some of the _Times_ articles for me. At nine
o'clock I go to bed. You can sit up as long as you like. You will
find novels, and improving books, if you prefer them, in one of the
bookcases in the drawing room. I lead a very precise life, but I do
not require anyone else to follow it. When Molly is here, she always
does exactly as she likes, and I never interfere with her. You must
copy Molly while you are in this house, my dear. Now, are you feeling
composed, and is your excitement dying down? I will tell you why I have
sent for you, if you can assure me this is the case."
"I am quite composed now, Mrs. Lavender," said Cecil. Then she added,
with an irrepressible sort of eagerness: "But you don't know how good
it is to be excited; how it lifts one out of one's self, at least when
one is young, as I am. I was feeling very bad this morning, and now I
am full of hope. I am very grateful to you, very, very grateful, for
giving me such an exciting, joyous day."
Mrs. Lavender raised one of her fragile little hands. Her manner was
deprecatory.
"Don't, my love!" she said. "Believe me, I can quite understand your
gratitude, but I really would prefer your not expressing it. I suffer
from a weak heart, and the least emotion is bad for me. It is quite
possible that the plan which I am about to divulge to you will excite
you, as you are of an excitable temperament. If this be the case,
Cecil, I must beg of you to leave the room. Express your excitement
in any way in the drawing room. There are such thick curtains between
this room and that that I shall not hear you, whatever you do. You may
dance, if you like, in there, provided you don't knock anything over.
Now, can you promise to be calm in my presence?"
"Yes, Mrs. Lavender."
Cecil locked her hands tightly together. She wondered that anyone could
live, that any heart could continue to beat, in such a death-in-life
sort of state as Mrs. Lavender's.
The old lady gave her a fixed stare.
"The girl I am fondest of in all the world," she said, "is my
granddaughter, Molly. Molly is very fond of you."
"She is my dearest friend," interrupted Cecil.
"I beg of you, Cecil, to hear me out without remark."
"Yes," answered Cecil.
"I had a letter from Molly, in which she entreats me to write to my
son, who is, as you know, a judge in the Rampoor Settlement. She
entreats me to write to him describing you as a sensible, respectable,
well-brought-up girl--a girl who does not in any sense of the word
belong to those odious creatures who call themselves 'new women'; in
short, a girl who would put no silly thoughts into his daughter's head.
You are doubtless aware, Cecil, of the reason why Molly wants me to
write this letter?"
"Yes; I know all about it," replied Cecil. Her face was crimson. "Molly
wants her father to lend me money to enable me to join her at Redgarth.
Her father fears I am not womanly enough. Perhaps you don't think I am
womanly enough, Mrs. Lavender. Oh, if that is so, I beg of you----"
"Hush, my dear, hush! Exclaim presently in the drawing room, but do
keep down your emotion while you are with me. I shall have a spasm if
you don't; I really shall."
"I will try hard to be quiet," answered Cecil.
A great sigh rose to her lips, but she managed to suppress it.
"Mrs. Lavender is a dear old lady," she said to herself, "but I really
fear she will soon ask me not to breathe in her presence. I never felt
so horribly restrained in my life. I must make a rush for that drawing
room if she doesn't soon unburden her mind."
"I have not yet written to my son," continued the old lady.
"Oh, dear, and the Indian mail has gone!" answered Cecil.
"May I ask you, Cecil Ross," continued Mrs. Lavender, "if you have the
pleasure of knowing my son, Judge Lavender?"
"No, madam, of course not. I did not get to know Molly until years
after her father had left England."
"I thought as much," said Mrs. Lavender, nodding her head sagely. "Now,
may I ask if the idea has ever occurred to you, that by borrowing
money from a total stranger you are putting yourself under a rather
unpleasant obligation to him?"
"But not to Molly's father--and I can pay it back," replied Cecil
anxiously.
"Allow me to finish what I was going to say, my love. You want that
money very badly?"
"In one sense, dreadfully; although, if I had it, I don't know that I
could use it."
"Pray don't get confused, Cecil, or my heart will never stand the
strain of having to talk to you. In replying to my questions, confine
yourself as much as possible to 'yes' and 'no.' Do you want this money
badly?"
"Yes, yes, yes!"
"Why repeat it three times? Is not one 'yes' sufficient? You want the
money. Why?"
"Because I shall not be able to do what I promised mother to do without
it. There are the four boys, all of them young, Maurice only fourteen,
and we have such a very little income; and, Mrs. Lavender, I am not
certificated, and they won't give any posts to girls now who are not;
and oh, I know I have brains, and oh, it's dreadful--oh, it's dreadful!
Oh, I wish I could half tell you what I feel about it!"
Cecil stood up as she spoke.
"Sit down at once, Cecil, or go into the drawing room," replied Mrs.
Lavender.
"Yes, I will sit down if you wish me to. I am dreadfully afraid, by
your tone, you do not intend to write to Judge Lavender. If this is the
case, all is lost."
"How impatient you are, little girl!" said Mrs. Lavender, in a kindly
voice. "Do you suppose I asked you to come all the way from Hazlewick
if I had nothing to suggest? Cecil, my dear, I have long taken an
interest in you. I don't love you as I love Molly. Of course that
could not be expected of me, but I have a very sincere regard for you.
I am a rich woman. My son is a very rich man. Most of my money goes
to him and Molly, but there is some--some that I can leave just as I
please. On the whole, I am a lonely woman. At my age money has very few
attractions for me. All I ask of life now is to be allowed great peace,
great and absolute stillness."
"I should think so," muttered Cecil.
"Great and perfect quiet. I am going away soon to the everlasting rest.
The life which excites you so much is all behind me. I don't need much
money, and when I die, I have no one to leave it to except Molly and
her father, and they have more money already than they know what to do
with."
[Illustration: "THERE IS NOT THE LEAST HURRY, MY LOVE," SHE SAID.]
Cecil opened her lips to utter an exclamation.
"Don't!" said Mrs. Lavender. "I know by the shape of your mouth that
you are going to say something violent, and I simply can't listen to
it. Now, I will tell you briefly why I sent for you. I take an interest
in girls like you. Once, long, long ago, I was excitable like you. I
was full of spirits; I thought I could never make enough out of life,
I was as poor in those days as I am rich now. On the whole, I was much
happier while I was poor. It is a great mistake to imagine that money
means happiness. I have made a curious will, Cecil Ross. In that will,
I am leaving the money which does not rightly belong to Molly and her
father in small sums to several girls whom I have heard or know about.
When this will was signed, your name was included."
"Mine?" said Cecil.
"My dear, the drawing room!"
"Oh, I will be good! I won't say another word. Do go on!"
"Your name was mentioned in the will, Cecil. In that will I leave you
at my death five hundred pounds. Now, it has occurred to me, after
reading Molly's letter, that it would be much kinder, and more useful
to you, to have the use of the money now. You are a clever girl. My
dear, don't get so red, or you will have an apoplectic seizure. You are
a clever girl, Cecil, but you are not half educated according to the
modern craze. Five hundred pounds will educate you well. Afterward you
will be able to support yourself, and to help your young brothers. Your
mother was an excellent woman. I took a great fancy to her when I met
her two years ago. My proposal, then, my dear, is simply this--don't
borrow money. Borrowed money is a curse, and a weight round the neck of
anyone. Don't put yourself under an obligation to my son. Allow me to
pay your expenses at Redgarth, and to give you ten pounds a term for
pocket-money. Now, don't speak! Think over what I say, and give me your
decision after dinner."
"Oh," said Cecil, "oh, I--I must go into the drawing room for a minute,
please."
"Do, dear child, do; go at once. Draw back that curtain; open the door;
pray shut it noiselessly."
"She's gone; what a relief! Poor little creature, if she'd let out what
she's feeling, she would have killed me on the spot," murmured Mrs.
Lavender, sinking back on her high-backed chair with, a gentle and
satisfied sigh.