JULIET IS INSPECTED
"MOTHER, do you think it can be anyone belonging to us?" asked Juliet
eagerly, when she had told of her meeting with the unknown clergyman
that afternoon, and the question he had put to her.
"Oh no, dear! Tracy is not an uncommon name. And yet—it is very
strange—your father had a brother who went to Australia; but he has
been dead for years—at least, it was always believed that he was dead."
"But it was a mistake—it was a mistake, and he has come back to claim
us as his next of kin!" cried Juliet excitedly. "Oh, that's so, I am
sure! Of course he is rich, and I shall not need to be a governess—"
"My dear child, how you talk! You quite bewilder me! You forget what a
big place Australia is. There may be hundreds of Tracys there. And your
father always believed his brother to be dead. To be sure, he went off
in a huff, and perhaps wished his relatives to think him dead. His name
was Ralph. There were only the two children—your father and he. They
were early left orphans, and were brought up by their grandfather. I
believe there was some jealousy between them. At any rate, there was a
quarrel, and Ralph took himself off; but I never heard the particulars.
Your father did not care to speak about it."
"Oh, mother, I can't help thinking that it is my uncle who has
returned! How I wish he would make haste and look us up! I could snap
my fingers at Hannah and Salome if I had a rich uncle to defend me."
"Juliet! What a way to speak! You really are a very naughty girl."
"Just so. Quite incorrigible. I shall consider it my duty to inform
Mrs. Campbell that I shall not make an exemplary instructor of youth."
Mrs. Tracy glanced quickly at Juliet. She caught a gleam of mischief in
her eyes that caused her some misgivings. How would the child behave
on the morrow? But she took no notice of Juliet's words. She wished
to avoid all reference to the interview arranged for the morrow. She
was fearful lest anything should be said that might throw Juliet into
an intractable mood. So she did not attempt to check the girl, when
she presently launched out into glowing descriptions of what their
life might become on the advent of the rich uncle. Castle-building
is undeniably an amusing diversion, and we learn soon enough the
unsubstantial nature of the airy structures we rear.
Juliet's mood had changed by the next morning. She had no longer any
hope of something wonderful happening to brighten the horizon of her
future. Her spirit rebelled more than ever at the thought of the hated
inspection to which she was to be subjected in the afternoon. She was
petulant and irritable in her speech, looked at times very cross, and
at others exhibited a mischievous glee accompanied by that wicked gleam
in the violet eyes which had already caused her mother uneasiness.
"You will be careful to dress yourself neatly," said Salome to her,
when she was about to prepare for her visit. "So much depends upon the
first impression."
"You need not be afraid," returned Juliet, with sparkling eyes, "I mean
to be very careful as to the impression I make."
There was little fault to be found with her appearance when she came
down a few minutes later. To her mother's eyes she had never looked
prettier. Salome scrutinised her carefully from head to foot; but
gloves, boots, gown, all were neat. Salome's disapproving glance fell
on the unruly locks which showed in soft, flossy confusion beneath the
wide Leghorn hat which so charmingly became the fair, young face.
"Can't you make your hair a little tidier?" she asked. "It seems
frizzier than ever to-day."
"No, I can't," said Juliet, giving her head a shake which made the
wayward golden curls stand out farther from her brow than before. "My
hair is just part of myself, and I cannot alter it. Most people find my
golden locks admirable."
"There, you look very nice, dear!" said her mother fondly. "Run away
now; you must not keep Hannah waiting, or you will miss the train."
Mrs. Tracy and Salome stood side by side at the window and watched
Hannah and Juliet as they walked to the gate.
"She does not look much fit to be a governess, does she?" remarked
Salome.
"No, indeed, poor dear!" responded Mrs. Tracy, with feeling. "You look
much more suited for it," she added, not without a touch of satire.
But Salome was unconscious of the satire. She received her mother's
words as complimentary. She prided herself on the extreme simplicity of
her dress, and the contrast it presented to the general mode. She liked
to think that she was not as other women. To her the word fashionable
appeared quite synonymous with sinful. She believed the attitude she
maintained towards the world and its fashions to be indicative of a
superior mind and character. It cost her no self-denial to refrain from
wearing pretty things, for she had little taste for these; nor did it
pain her to be considered odd. She had her reward in many a glow of
self-esteem, many a proud, complacent reflection upon her own heroic,
martyr-like fortitude.
Juliet had little to say, as she and her sister walked to the railway
station. She responded so briefly to the remarks made by Hannah that
the latter concluded she was "sulky."
As soon as they had taken their places in the train, Hannah, who had
a horror of wasting time, unrolled a copy of the "Educational Times,"
with which she had provided herself for this opportunity, and read
intently till the train stopped at Hampstead station. Once or twice
she glanced at Juliet, who had seated herself at the farther end of
the compartment, which they had to themselves. Juliet appeared to be
absorbed in contemplating her gloves. Hannah was shortsighted, and she
failed to see that Juliet's right hand held a tiny penknife, with which
she was carefully opening the seams of the glove on her other hand just
at the tips of the fingers. Nor did she observe that Juliet afterwards
gave some attention to her boots.
The house for which they were bound was at some little distance from
the station, and Hannah experienced difficulty in finding the way.
She was anxious to be punctual to the hour Mrs. Campbell had named,
and as she hurried along, she gave little heed to Juliet; but she was
aware that whilst she was growing worried and impatient, Juliet's mood
had taken the reverse change. Her sulkiness had vanished. She took an
amiable interest in her sister's perplexities, spoke brightly, and even
made humorous observations on the persons and places they passed—a sure
sign she was in a good humour. Hannah marvelled, but congratulated
herself on the transition.
They reached the house very little behind time. As she stood on the
doorstep and rang the bell, Hannah turned to make a critical survey of
Juliet.
"Why, Juliet," she exclaimed, in a tone of dismay, "there's a button
gone from the front of your frock! How very careless of you to come out
like that!"
"So there is!" said Juliet. "And it has not been off long," she added,
raising her hands to the spot where the loose threads hung, and
examining it with an air of scientific interest. The action brought her
gloves full into Hannah's view, and she exclaimed in horror as she saw
their condition—
"Juliet, how could you put on such gloves? I declare there is every
finger showing! They are perfectly disgraceful."
"Now you mention it, they do look rather bad," said Juliet, as though
the idea would not have occurred to her unprompted.
"Bad!" The opening of the door cut short Hannah's indignant utterance.
There was no help for it; retreat was impossible now. Hannah had to
compose herself as best she could, ask for Mrs. Campbell, and follow
the neat parlour-maid across the hall to the drawing-room, with a
mortifying conviction that the coming interview must prove a failure.
What had her mother and Salome been about, not to see that Juliet
started properly equipped?
"My dear Juliet, do sit with your back to the light, and keep your
hands out of sight as much as possible," Hannah admonished her when the
servant had left them to themselves.
"Really, Hannah, I don't think that would be fair to Mrs. Campbell,"
Juliet replied, with provoking, gravity. "I came here that she might
inspect me, and she has a right to see me in the best light."
She seated herself as she spoke opposite to a window with her feet well
exposed to view. With fresh consternation, Hannah perceived that two
buttons were missing from her left boot.
"Dear me," said Juliet, as Hannah pointed it out, "it is strange how
buttons will sometimes come off!"
Before Hannah could say another word, Mrs. Campbell entered the room.
No woman could bear herself with more dignity and self-possession than
Hannah was wont to display; but now her usual self-possession deserted
her. Her sense of shame at the appearance Juliet presented made her
nervous and almost shy. She half suspected that Juliet had deliberately
planned to discomfort her thus, and she was in absolute dread as to how
her young sister might comport herself during the interview. What could
she venture to say, whilst Juliet sat by with that mischievous light
in her eyes, and that innocent—all too innocent—expression of the rosy
mouth, the meaning of which Hannah knew but too well? Never had she
felt herself in a more uneasy position.
Mrs. Campbell was a graceful little woman with pleasant manners. Her
blue eyes had a very keen, alert expression, and Hannah felt sure that
she took in at the first glance the glaring defects of Juliet's attire.
"I could have sunk through the floor with shame," she said afterwards,
when describing her sensations to Salome.
Mrs. Campbell's glance softened as it rested on Juliet's pretty,
childish face.
"This is surely not the sister of whom Miss Tucker wrote to me," she
said, turning to Hannah. "She looks far too young to be a governess."
"She is neatly twenty," replied Hannah.
"Indeed! I should hardly have thought you were seventeen," she said,
looking with a smile at Juliet. "Are you fond of children?"
"No, I am not," said Juliet frankly. "To be sure, I never have had much
to do with them, for I am the youngest at home; but I do not think I
should like them."
"That is unfortunate," said Mrs. Campbell, looking puzzled; "then what
made you think you would like to teach?"
"I don't think it," replied Juliet; "I must tell you candidly that I
hate the idea, and I do not think that I am in the least fitted to be a
teacher. It is my sisters who wish me to be a governess. They think I
ought to earn money."
Hannah flushed crimson. "Juliet," she protested, "you are not fair
to us in putting the case so. We are anxious that Juliet should find
something to do," she explained, "because we are sure she would be
happier if she had regular occupation. Of course I do not mean you to
understand that it is not of importance to us that she should help to
maintain herself, but I am sure our main desire is for her good."
"Certainly, certainly. You are quite right. It is well for girls
to have something definite to do," said Mrs. Campbell. She could
sympathise with the elder sister in her embarrassment, but Juliet had
still more of her sympathy. She was charmed by the girl's prettiness
and amused at her audacity; but, as a governess, she put her out
of the question at once. "Still, I think it a mistake to try to
force inclination," she continued. "If your sister has no fancy for
teaching, would it not be better for her to try something else? I am
strongly of opinion that no one should attempt to teach who does not
feel a true vocation for it. Now I must own that my little girls are
so high-spirited and so little disposed to learn, that I should feel
afraid to entrust them to one who did not truly love children, and feel
some enthusiasm in teaching them."
"Of course; I can quite understand that after what has passed you could
not feel otherwise," said Hannah, rising to go.
But at that moment a servant entered with tea, and Mrs. Campbell gently
insisted that her visitors must take some ere they went away. Each
would gladly have gone at once. Juliet's momentary sense of triumph
was past, and she was feeling ashamed of the part she had played. She
felt that she had acted meanly by Hannah. Moreover, her self-respect
was sorely wounded, and her cheeks burned with shame as she was obliged
to display her very untidy gloves, whilst Mrs. Campbell, with charming
courtesy, waited on her and supplied her with tea and cake. For Juliet
had the instincts of a lady, although she had chosen to act in defiance
of them that afternoon.
Hannah said nothing for some minutes after they had left Mrs.
Campbell's house. She was feeling so indignant that she hardly dared
trust herself to speak.
"You need not fear, Juliet, that I shall ever come on such an
expedition with you again," she said at last, bitterly. "This is the
first, and it shall also be the last."
"So much the better," replied Juliet, with affected cheerfulness.
"You might have told me," continued Hannah, "that you meant to make it
impossible for Mrs. Campbell to engage you. You need not have placed me
in such a humiliating position."
"I said nothing but what you knew perfectly well before," returned
Juliet. "I thought it right to be candid."
"I never knew before that you disliked children," said Hannah. "I have
seen you play with the little Hayeses as if you were quite fond of
them. You have thrown away an excellent chance. I believe Mrs. Campbell
was inclined to like you."
"So are most people, except you, Hannah."
"You have no right to speak so, Juliet. I am sure there is nothing I
would not do for you; but you must remember that if people wish to be
loved they should be loving. When do you try to please me or Salome?
You simply delight in vexing us."
"Then I must be a happy mortal, for it seems very easy to vex you,"
said Juliet.
Hannah attempted no retort to this shaft of satire, and for the rest
of the way home they maintained silence. Though she held her head high
and affected the utmost indifference, Juliet was feeling rather out of
spirits as they came in sight of The Poplars. To her surprise she saw a
hansom cab standing at the gate.
"Who can have come?" she asked. Then, clasping her hands in sudden
glee, "Oh, if it should be my rich uncle!" she cried, and hurried into
the house.
Salome met her in the hall with an air of mild excitement.
"Gently, Juliet," she said; "there is a gentleman in the drawing-room
with mother. See, this is his card. I suppose he is some relative."
Juliet glanced at the card and uttered a little cry of ecstasy.
"Mr. Ralph Tracy! It is he! It is my rich uncle!" she cried, and
tearing off her gloves and throwing them from her, she hurried to the
drawing-room door.
"Stay, Juliet!" exclaimed Salome, as soon as she was aware of her
intention. "You must not go in unless mother sends for you."
But she spoke in vain, for Juliet had already opened the door.