THE EARLY BIRD.
There is, after all, nothing like being first in the field. The old
proverb of the early bird that catches the worm is correct. Miss
Delacour knew her ground. Miss Delacour had gauged her woman, and
when, about eleven o'clock that day, George Lennox walked across to The
Paddock, hoping to obtain the sympathy which he had never before been
refused by his sister, he was much amazed to find that Mrs Constable
was altogether on the other side.
'What has come over you, Cecilia?' he remarked. 'Is it possible that
you have already seen my sister-in-law? Do you understand the sort of
woman that she is?'
'I have seen her more than two hours ago, George,' replied Mrs
Constable, 'and, to be frank with you, I admire her very much. There
is no one to me like you, George, but women can see things which men
cannot. It seems to me that Miss Delacour is a woman with a great
heart, and she has taken pains to propound to me a scheme which I
consider most noble. In fact, I fully agree with her in the matter. I
cannot help doing so. Our children, our dear children, George, require
by now to be taught the great things of the world. Hitherto you and I
have taught them all we could. I do not deny that, until now, our
instruction was sufficient; but a time has arrived when they all need
the broader life. I, for one, will certainly help Miss Delacour to the
extent of five hundred pounds. The Duke is quite in favour of the
Palace of the Kings being made use of for so worthy an object, and will
give us the furniture, if not for _nothing_, at least for a very
trifling sum. Miss Delacour will herself provide the extra furniture
required for a school, and I further understand that the Duke will let
the old house and grounds for a merely nominal rent, which I think you,
George, being his kinsman through your dear wife, ought to supply.
Miss Delacour has secured the services of a most efficient
head-mistress, and the school will be run on truly noble lines--on the
very best lines, or the Duke would have nothing to do with it. As I am
willing to help Miss Delacour, she will allow my dear sons, for a
longer or shorter period, to enter the school so as to prepare for Eton
by-and-by. Home education is not enough, George, and the children will
be educated for the broader world, at our very doors. They will be
allowed to return to the home nest each Saturday until early Monday
morning. What could by any means be more advantageous?'
'Oh dear,' exclaimed Lennox, '_what_ a woman Agnes is!'
'What a noble woman! you mean.'
'I do not mean that, by any means. I mean that she is clever and very
rich, and philanders with philanthropy. We know nothing, for instance,
of the proposed head-mistress, Mrs Macintyre.'
'Yes, we do, through that really excellent woman, your sister-in-law.
George, you are sadly prejudiced.'
'Cecil, you wrong me. Was she not my Lucy's half-sister, and did not
my dearest one suffer tortures at her hands?'
'Ah! try to forget that part of the painful past. Well do I know what
your Lucy was to you, to me, to her little girls. _Try_, my dearest
brother, to be brave, and to take to your heart the text, "Vengeance is
mine, saith the Lord," and receive Miss Delacour's magnificent scheme
with a good grace.'
'And the loss of a considerable yearly income, to say nothing of the
far deeper pain of parting from my children. Really, Cecilia, I did
think you would show more pity to a sadly lonely man.'
'And I, also, am a sadly lonely woman, George; but I must not think of
myself in the matter of my beloved boys.'
'You never do, and never could, Cecil; but that woman drives me nearly
wild.'
'Dear George, try to think more kindly of her. She spoke, oh! _so_
kindly of you; indeed, she spoke most affectionately. I could not
believe that you were inclined to be jealous, and even stingy.'
Lennox rose. 'If being unwilling to deprive myself of several hundreds
a year for a total stranger, as well as parting from my dear little
lasses, is stingy, then I _am_ stingy, Cecilia; but let the matter
drop. I bow to the decrees of two women. When two women put their
heads together, what chance has poor man?'
'Oh George,' said Mrs Constable, 'since my beloved husband was killed,
whom have I had to look to but you, my dearest brother? Believe me,
this _is_ a good cause. Your children and my children _need_ to mix
with the world. Jasper must soon go to a public school, but a year in
a mixed school will do him no harm. I have been deeply puzzled of late
as to what to do with my boys' future. Then comes unexpectedly a noble
woman who opens up a plan. It seems right; it seems correct. Our
children will mix with other children. They will know the world in the
way they _must_ first know it--namely, at school; and they will be,
remember, George, within a stone's-throw of us.'
'You don't mean to say that they are to be weekly boarders?' remarked
the stricken man.
'I do say it. That is her determination. The school will be a very
large one, and I am going to-day to meet Miss Delacour at Ardshiel in
order to see what improvements are necessary. Oh, dear, dear old boy,
if I _could_ remove that frown from your brow!'
'You can't, Cecilia; so don't try. I am worsted by two women, the fate
of most men. I am very unhappy. I don't pretend to be anything else.
My sister-in-law has stolen a march on me, but at least there is one
thing on which I am determined. You, of course, Cecilia, can do as you
please, but I positively _refuse_ to send a child of mine to that place
until I have first had an interview with Mrs Macintyre.'
'And that is most sensible of you, George. I shall wire to her and ask
her to come to The Paddock to-day. I shall be so glad to put her up
and make her happy. A woman in her case, with financial difficulties,
having lost husband and children, is so deeply to be pitied. My whole
heart aches for the poor, dear thing.'
'Cecilia, I would not know you this morning. I must go back now to my
little girls. They at least are all my own; they at least dislike the
woman who has conquered your too kind heart.'
'George, I have faithfully promised in your name and my own to visit
Ardshiel immediately after luncheon to-day. We have to see for
ourselves that the sad home of neglect and tragedy, which will soon be
filled with young and happy life, is in all respects suited to our
purpose.'
'Oh dear, oh dear!' said George Lennox. 'Well, if I must, I must. Two
women against one man! I suppose I may be allowed to bring Hollyhock?'
'Best not, on the first occasion. She irritates Miss Delacour.'
'Oh, bother Miss Delacour!' exclaimed the Honourable George, who was
now at last thoroughly out of humour. 'Well, I'll meet you at
half-past two at Ardshiel, and I hope by then I may feel a little
calmer than I do at present.'
As soon as George Lennox had gone, Mrs Constable sent a telegram to the
bereaved and distracted Mrs Macintyre, inviting her to make a speedy
visit to The Paddock. This telegram had only to go as far as
Edinburgh, for Miss Delacour had put her friend up in a shabby room in
a back-street in that city of rare beauty. The address had been given,
however, to Mrs Constable; and Mrs Macintyre, who was feeling very
depressed, and wondering if anything could come of her friend's scheme,
replied instanter: 'Will be with you by next train.'
Mrs Constable made all preparations for her guest's arrival. The best
spare room was got ready. The finest linen sheets, smelling of
lavender, were spread on the soft bed. The room was a lovely one, and
in every respect a contrast to any Mrs Macintyre had used of late.
As has been said, it was the custom for the Constables and the Lennoxes
to dine and spend the evening together. This was the night for The
Paddock, and Mrs Macintyre would therefore see not only the Honourable
George Lennox, but a goodly number of her future pupils. Miss Delacour
was a woman who in the moment of victory was not inclined to show off.
Having gained Mrs Constable, she was merciful to George, and said
nothing whatever to him with regard to the school, or with regard to
the advent of Mrs Macintyre. She knew well that that really good woman
would be at The Paddock that evening, and considered her task
practically accomplished.
George Lennox, feeling sad at heart, but still trusting to the
incapability of Mrs Macintyre to undertake so onerous a charge, went
with his sister-in-law to meet Mrs Constable at the appointed hour at
Ardshiel that afternoon. When they joined Mrs Constable at the lodge
gate, he did not hear the one lady say to the other, 'The dear thing
will be with me in time for dinner.'
'We dine at The Paddock to-night,' whispered Miss Delacour. 'How
marvellous are the ways of Providence! I can get back to London
to-morrow. Between ourselves, dear, I hate the Upper Glen, and
heartily dislike my brother-in-law.'
'Oh! you must not speak of my brother like that,' said Mrs Constable.
'With the exception of my dear husband, there never was a man like my
brother George.'
'As you think so much of him, perhaps he will help you by finding
husband No. 2,' said Miss Delacour in a tone which she meant to be
playful. She chuckled over her commonplace joke, having never
succeeded herself in finding even No. 1. But Mrs Constable's gentle
and beautiful gray eyes now flashed with a sudden fire, and the colour
of amazed anger rose into her cheeks.
'Miss Delacour, you astonish and pain me indescribably when you speak
as you have just done. Little you know of my beloved Wallace. Had you
had the good fortune to meet so noble a man, you would perceive how
impossible it is for his widow, indeed his _wife_, as I consider
myself, to marry any one else. Never speak to me on that subject
again, please, Miss Delacour.'
Miss Delacour saw that she had gone too far, and muttered to herself,
'Dear, dear, how _huffy_ these handsome widows are! But, all the same,
I doubt not that she _will_ marry again. Time will prove. For me, I
have no patience with these silly airs. But I see I must change the
subject.' Accordingly she deftly did so, and even asked to see a
portrait of the late gallant major. This request was, however,
somewhat curtly refused.
'Only my laddies and myself see the picture of their blessed father,'
was the reply; and Miss Delacour could not but respect Mrs Constable
all the more for her gentle and yet firm dignity.
Meanwhile the unhappy and lonely George Lennox, hating his
sister-in-law's scheme more and more, wandered away by himself, where
he could think matters over.
'I never _could_ have believed that Cecil would abide tittle-tattle,'
he thought; 'but that woman Agnes would contaminate any one.'
The ladies had now reached Ardshiel. It was, of course, considerably
out of repair, but was even now lovely, with the beauty of fallen
greatness. The majesty of the spacious grounds, the reflection of the
sun on the tragic lake, the fine effect of great mountains in the
distance, were as impressive as ever. It was clear that the walks, the
lawns, the terraces, the beds of neglected flowers, the great
glass-houses, could all soon be put to rights.
Then within that house, where the footsteps of the young bride had
never been heard, were treasures innumerable and furniture which age
could only improve. The Duke had promised, if all turned out
satisfactorily, to hand over the furniture, the magnificent glass and
china, the silver even, and fine linen and napery of all sorts, as his
present to the school; but he insisted on a small rent being paid
yearly for the lovely place, and also demanded that a certain sum be
paid for the restoration of the grounds. Mrs Constable would repair
the grounds, while her brother would surely not refuse to pay the small
rent expected by the Duke for this most noble part of his property.
Miss Delacour hoped that she would establish her friend in the school
without much loss of her own property, but she was willing to add the
necessary school furniture, meaning the beds for the children and the
correct furniture for their rooms, also the downstairs school
furniture, such as desks and so forth. She expected to get them for a
sum equal to what Mrs Constable intended to spend--namely, five hundred
pounds. In this matter she thought herself most generous, and poor
George most mean.
While the ladies were examining the interior of the great house, the
Honourable George Lennox walked through the place alone, taking good
care to keep away from the women. He walked all the time like one in a
dream. It seemed to him as though he saw ghosts all around him, not
only the ghost of his own peerless Lucy, and the other ghost of the
poor youth who early on his wedding morning was found, cold and dead,
floating on the waters of the mighty lake. Lennox spent much of the
time in the grounds of Ardshiel, and heard, to his delight, the
wrangling voices of the two women, hoping sincerely that the scheme of
having this house of almost royalty turned into a school would be
knocked on the head; for when were women, even the best of them, long
consistent in their ideas?
Finally, however, the ladies did leave Ardshiel, the whole scheme of
turning Ardshiel into a school for lads and lasses marked out in Miss
Delacour's active mind. The attics would do for the children's
cubicles. The next floor would be devoted to class-rooms of all sorts
and descriptions, the ground floor would form the pleasure part of the
establishment, and the servants would have a wing quite apart. The
school could certainly be opened not later than September. The place
was made for a school for the upper classes. It seemed to grow under
the eyes of the two women into a delightful resort of youth, learning,
and happiness; but Mr Lennox became more opposed to the scheme each
moment. His one hope was that Mrs Macintyre might turn out to be
_impossible_, in which case these castles in the air would topple to
the ground.
The three parted at the gates of Ardshiel, Miss Delacour and her
brother-in-law going one way, and Mrs Constable the other.
'You won't forget, dear,' said Mrs Constable, nodding affectionately to
her new friend, 'to be in time for dinner this evening?'
'Oh dear! I forgot that we were to dine with you, Cecilia,' said
George Lennox.
'Well, don't forget it, George; and bring all the sweet Flowers with
you.'
'Naturally, I should not come without them.' His tone was almost angry.
'What a charming--what a sweet woman Mrs Constable is!' remarked his
sister-in-law.
Lennox was silent.
'George,' said Agnes, 'you're sulky.'
'Doubtless I am. Most men would be who are cajoled as I have been into
paying the rent of that horrid house. Yes, you are a clever woman,
Agnes; but I can tell you once for all that not a single one of my
Flowers of the Garden shall enter that school if I do not approve of
the head-mistress.'
'I said you were sulky,' repeated Miss Delacour. 'A sulky man is
almost as unpleasant as a fidgety man.'
'To tell you frankly, Agnes, I keenly dislike being played the fool
with. You saw Cecilia Constable this morning. You won her round to
your views when I was asleep.'
'Ha, ha!' laughed Miss Delacour. 'I repeat, she is a sweet woman, and
her boys shall go to the school.'
'I thought it was a girls' school.'
'For her dear sake,' replied Miss Delacour, 'it will be a mixed school.
Oh, I feel happy! The Lord is directing me.'
They arrived at The Garden, where five gloomy little girls gazed
gloomily at their aunt.
'I do wonder when she 'll go,' whispered Hollyhock. 'Look at Dumpy
Dad; he's perfectly miserable. If she does not clear out soon, I 'll
turn her out, that I will.'
When tea was over, the children and their father went into the spacious
grounds, rowed on the lake, and were happy once more, their peals of
merriment reaching Miss Delacour as she drew up plans in furtherance of
her scheme.
By-and-by the children went upstairs to dress for dinner. Their dress
was very simple, sometimes white washing silk, sometimes pink silk,
equally soft, sometimes very pale-blue silk. To-night they chose to
appear in their pink dresses.
'It will annoy the old crab,' thought Hollyhock.
They always walked the short distance between The Garden and The
Paddock.
Miss Delacour put on her 'thistle' gown, assisted by Magsie, who
ingratiatingly declared that she looked 'that weel ye hardly kent her.'
'You are a good girl, Margaret,' answered Miss Delacour, 'and if I can
I will help you in life.'
'Thank ye, my leddy; thank ye.'
The entire family started off for The Paddock, and on arrival there, to
the amazement and indeed sickening surprise of the Honourable George
Lennox, were immediately introduced to Mrs Macintyre, who turned out to
be, to his intense disappointment, a quiet, sad, lady-like woman, tall
and slender, and without a trace of the Scots accent about her. She
was perfect as far as speech and manner were concerned.
Mrs Macintyre, however, knew well the important part she had to play.
At dinner she sat next to Mr Lennox, and devoted herself to him with a
sort of humble devotion, speaking sadly of the school, but assuring him
that if he _could_ induce himself to entrust his beautiful little
Flower Girls to her care, she would leave no stone unturned to educate
them according to his own wishes, and to let them see as much of their
father as possible.
Lennox began to feel that he preferred Mrs Macintyre to his
sister-in-law or even to his sister, Mrs Constable, at that moment.
The woman undoubtedly was a lady. How great, how terrible, had been
her sorrow! And then she spoke so prettily of his girls, and said that
the flower names were altogether _too charming_, and nothing would
induce her to disturb them.
It was on the lips of Lennox to say, 'I am not going to send my girls
to your school,' but he found, as he looked into her sad dark eyes,
that he could not dash the hopes of such a woman to the ground. He was
therefore silent, and the evening passed agreeably.
Immediately after dinner Mrs Macintyre sat at the piano and sang one
Scots song after another. She had a really exquisite voice, and when
'Robin Adair' and 'Ye Banks and Braes' and 'Annie Laurie' rang through
the old hall, the man gave himself up to the delight of listening. He
stood by her and turned the pages of music, while the two ladies, Mrs
Constable and Miss Delacour, looked on with smiling faces. Miss
Delacour knew that her cause was won, and that she might with safety
leave the precincts of the horrible Garden to-morrow. How miserable
she was in that spot! Yes, her friend's future was assured, and she
herself must go to Edinburgh and to London to secure sufficiently
aristocratic pupils for the new school.