CARES AND MISTAKES.
If, even while the arrangement with Mrs. Jessel was thus hastily
concluded, Miss Trevor had her doubts as to whether it were a wise or a
good one, as days and weeks rolled on the young lady became more certain
that a great mistake had been made. Emmie had given to one of whose
character she knew very little a footing in the house from which it
would not be easy to displace her. Mrs. Jessel had now a fair excuse for
"dropping in" at Myst Court at any hour, and she almost invariably chose
the hours after dark. Her basket, by no means a small one, was Jael's
unfailing companion. Emmie wondered, but never ventured to inquire, how
much of the food which left Myst Court really found its way to the homes
of the poor. What made Emmie more uneasy were the words occasionally
dropped by her trustworthy Susan, who evidently disliked Mrs. Jessel's
coming so much about the place, and who had no faith in her
qualifications for the office of almoner into which she had installed
herself by taking advantage of the timidity of Miss Trevor.
Mr. Trevor had made it his invariable rule to pay his bills weekly, and
his daughter kept his household accounts. Emmie was startled at the
amount of the bills now run up by the butcher and grocer who served the
family at Myst Court. The young lady mustered up courage one day to
express to Hannah her surprise at the heavy expense incurred at a time
when the household was not large, and there was no entertaining of
guests. Hannah had found out from the first her lady's weakness, and had
laughingly observed to Lizzy, "The way to manage young miss is to flare
up at the first word; she don't dare to bring out a second." Hannah did
not fail to put her tactics into practice on the present occasion.
"I don't know what you mean by expense, miss," she growled out, like a
surly dog ready to snap; "Mrs. Jessel must have what she wants for the
poor, and it's a lot as her basket holds; one can't fill it with
soap-suds or shavings!"
Emmie retreated discomfited from the kitchen, and with a mortified,
downcast look carried the tradesmen's books to her father.
Mr. Trevor was in his study, writing out a statement to his lawyer of
the wrong inflicted on some of his tenants by the dye-works of Messrs.
Bullen and Co.
"I am sorry to interrupt you, papa," said Emmie, as, after gently
closing the door behind her, she approached the table at which her
father was seated, "but I am afraid that I shall want more money to pay
these bills."
"You told me that you had enough," observed Mr. Trevor, looking up from
his writing, with his ready-dipped pen in his hand.
"I thought so, till I saw the amount of the bills," and, as she spoke,
Emmie placed the open books on the desk before her father.
"This is absurd!" cried Mr. Trevor, after a rapid glance at the
summings-up; "Hannah must either be dishonest or wasteful. We appear to
live at more expense than we did at Summer Villa, where we had far more
comfort, and had friends to share our meals. You must speak to Hannah,
my love."
"I have spoken to her," replied Emmie. "Hannah accounts for the expense
by the quantity of food which Mrs. Jessel takes to the poor."
"I hope that you keep a sharp look-out after that woman," observed Mr.
Trevor gravely. "It passes my comprehension why you should ever employ
her at all to visit the tenants."
Emmie was ashamed to answer what was the truth,--"I did so because I did
not dare to visit them myself."
"There seems to be no end to the drains upon my purse at present," said
Mr. Trevor, leaning back on his chair; "workmen to pay in the house,
fields to drain, county-hospital and schools to assist, and two
law-suits looming before me! Vibert came to me for more money to-day.
How that boy runs through his allowance! I thought that when he was
beyond reach of London amusements, he would be able to draw in a little;
and, after arranging for his meals with his tutor, I never expected to
have to pay hotel-bills for my son."
Mr. Trevor had touched on a cause of uneasiness which was more and more
pressing on the spirits of Emmie. The sister knew, both from light words
dropped by Vibert and grave ones spoken by his brother, that the youth
was by no means giving due attention to his studies at S----. Vibert was
always late at his tutor's house, never remained there to luncheon, and
not infrequently did not return for afternoon study at all. Emmie was
aware that Vibert was sometimes driven back from S---- in a curricle by
Colonel Standish, arriving at Myst Court long after Bruce had reached
the place on foot. Vibert was enthusiastic in praise of his American
friend, dilating on his talent, his courage, his generosity,--perhaps
admiring him all the more from a spirit of opposition to Bruce, who did
not admire him at all.
Emmie saw little of her brothers on week-days, except at breakfast-time,
and during the evenings; the young lady, therefore, led a somewhat
solitary life. She took occasional drives with her father, but, except
in his company, rarely quitted the grounds. Time hung very heavily on
the fair maiden's hands; Myst Court was a dreary place in November to
one accustomed to cheerful society, who had now to pass many hours
alone.
Bruce went on steadily with his studies on week-days, and with his class
of boys on Sunday evenings, learning himself or teaching others with the
same characteristic perseverance and strength of will. He never again
asked Emmie to visit the poor. The two brothers rarely met each other
except at meals, when the presence of their father prevented unseemly
disputes between them. But both Mr. Trevor and his daughter were
painfully conscious of the coldness which existed between Vibert and
Bruce. The father was disappointed and displeased to find that his elder
son was not, as the parent had so hoped that he would be,--a friend,
protector, and guide to the younger.
"If Vibert go on as he is doing, he'll come to ruin," said Bruce one day
to his sister, in the early part of December, when Emmie was
accompanying him as far as the entrance-gate on his way to S----.
"Oh, Bruce, I am very, very unhappy about Vibert," sighed Emmie; "I
cannot think that he has a safe companion in that American colonel."
"Standish is Vibert's evil genius," muttered Bruce Trevor.
"Do you not think that it would be only right for you to speak seriously
to papa about Vibert's present way of going on?" suggested Emmie.
Bruce abruptly stopped short in his walk.
"No," he replied emphatically; "I will never say anything again to my
father concerning Vibert, let the boy do what he may. I began to speak
last night on the subject; I began to tell my father what I thought that
he ought to know. I had scarcely spoken two sentences, when he said
coldly--you know his manner when he is vexed--'Bruce, you are jealous of
your younger brother.' I jealous!--and of Vibert!" exclaimed Bruce,
resuming his walk at a quick pace which expressed mortification and
anger. "That's all the credit that I got for speaking the truth so I
mean henceforth to keep silence. Our father is utterly blind when Vibert
is concerned; every one else must be blamed, rather than a fault be
found in the precious young scapegrace! I may plod on, study, save, deny
myself any indulgence, while Vibert quaffs his champagne, plays at
billiards,--or worse, squanders his money and his time; and if I so much
as venture to hint that matters are going wrong, why I, forsooth, am
jealous--jealous of one whom I despise--jealous of a selfish prodigal,
who would sacrifice anything or any one for the sake of an hour's
amusement!"
Bruce had reached the iron gate, and he now flung it wide open with a
vehement action, which was the outward expression of the indignation
burning within his breast. The young man strode forth from his father's
grounds full of that pride of spirit which is altogether inconsistent
with Christian profession. Yet was Bruce scarcely conscious that he was
proud, because his besetting sin was so closely shrouded up in his
heart's haunted chamber. Bruce could not accuse himself of being
self-righteous, because he truly acknowledged himself to be a sinner
before his God. He was more free than most young men in his station from
pride of talent, pride of birth, pride which glories in any personal
gift. Bruce hated ostentation, and was not keenly eager for praise.
Where, then, was young Trevor's pride to be found? It was interwoven in
the very fabric of his character; but so interwoven that it did not
appear glaringly on the surface. Pride, with Bruce, was as the vein
which pervades the marble,--only faintly visible here and there,
scarcely marring its beauty, but penetrating deep, yea, to the utmost
depth of the firm and solid mass. If Emmie was self-indulgent, Vibert
self-engrossed, Bruce was pre-eminently self-willed. His besetting sin
was the more dangerous because it did not startle his conscience. Bruce
knew that his faith in God was steadfast, his sincerity not to be
questioned, that on the path of duty he walked with a step unswerving
and firm. He compared his own conduct with that of Vibert, and it was
impossible that such a comparison should not be to the advantage of the
elder brother, who was singularly free from the selfishness which marred
the character of the younger. Yet Bruce was not safe in his orthodox
creed, his stainless life, his useful labours; he was not walking humbly
before his God. His was not the charity which thinks no evil, which
loves, and hopes, and endures; the scorn which he felt for a brother's
weakness, the anger roused by a brother's sin, were tokens--had he
closely examined their source--of the baneful presence of pride.