HOLLYHOCK LEFT IN THE COLD.
The fire burned brightly in the ingle-nook, and the dogs, Tocsin and
Curfew, slept in perfect peace in close proximity to its grateful heat;
but Hollyhock was alone--utterly alone. She felt more miserable than
she had ever believed it possible to be in her hitherto joyous life.
She drew up a chair near the hearth, and the dogs came and sniffed at
her; but what were they, compared to Jasmine, Delphinium, and the
Precious Stones? As to Dumpy Dad, she could never have believed that
he would treat his little girl in such a heartless manner. Had she not
given up all for him, and was this her reward?
She felt a great lump in her throat, and a very fierce anger burned
within her breast. What right had Dumpy Dad and Aunt Cecilia to
forsake the only child who was true to them? The others were off and
away at their learning and their fun, perchance; but she, Hollyhock,
the faithful and the true, had remained at home when the others had
deserted it. She had been firm and decided, and here was her
reward--the reward of utter desolation.
'Get away, Curfew,' she said, as the faithful greyhound pushed his long
nose into her hand.
Curfew raised gentle, pleading brown eyes to her face; but being of the
sort that never retorts, he lay down again, with a sigh of
disappointment, close to Tocsin. He, too, was feeling the change, for
he was a very human dog, and missed the Flower Girls and the Precious
Stones, and the dear, dear master and Mrs Constable, just as Hollyhock
did.
But what was the use of making a fuss? According to Curfew's creed, it
was wrong to grumble. Hollyhock did not want him. He lay down with
his long tail on Hollyhock's frock, and his beautiful head pressed
against Tocsin's neck. Tocsin was a magnificent bloodhound, and he was
the greatest support and comfort to Curfew at the present crisis.
By-and-by Mr Lennox passed hurriedly through the hall. He was going
into his special library to get some books. He saw the melancholy
figure of Hollyhock seated not far from the great fire, and the
faithful dogs lying at her feet. He said in his most cheerful tone,
'Hallo, my little girl! you and the dogs do make a pretty picture; but
why don't you play the organ or sing something at the piano?'
'You know, daddy, I have no real love for music,' said Hollyhock in a
cross voice.
'Well, well, then, take a book, my child. Here 's a nice story I can
recommend you--_Treasure Island_, by Louis Stevenson.'
'I hate reading,' she said.
'Well, I'm afraid I can't help you, dear. I'm frightfully busy, and
shall not get to bed until past midnight. Taking up this new work
means a great deal, and you know, my Flower Girl, your Dumpy Dad, as
you like to call him, is the very last person in the world to do a
thing by halves. If I have to sit up till morning, I must do so in
order to be prepared for Dundree and Lord Ian to-morrow. Perhaps,
dear, you had best kiss me and say good-night.'
'Daddy--daddy--I 'm so--miserable!'
'Sorry, my child; but I can't see why you should be. You have all the
comforts that love and sympathy can bestow upon you.'
'No, no; I am alone,' half sobbed Hollyhock.
'Don't get hysterical, my child. That is really very bad for you; but,
anyhow, I 've no time to waste now over a little girl who is surrounded
by blessings.'
'If Daddy Dumps goes on much longer in that strain I shall absolutely
begin to hate him,' thought the furious child. 'The bare idea of his
_thinking_ of talking to me as he has done.--No, Curfew, _don't_! Put
your cold nose away.'
Curfew heaved another heavy sigh and lay closer to Tocsin, and with a
smaller portion of his tail on Hollyhock's dress.
Now the olden custom at The Garden and The Paddock--that lovely custom
which had suddenly ceased--was music, dancing, games, fun, shrieks of
laughter from Precious Stones and Flower Girls, the hearty peal of a
man's voice when he was thoroughly enjoying himself, the gentle,
restrained merriment of a lady. This lady was Mrs Constable, who was
now going to be a kindergarten teacher, forsooth! And this man was
Dumpy Dad, who was going to be an agent, indeed! No wonder the girl
and the dogs felt lonely. The end of the happy evenings had arrived.
One evening used to be spent at The Garden, the next at The Paddock;
and then the delightful good-byes, the cheerful talk about the early
meeting on the morrow, and if it was the evening for The Paddock, the
lively and merry walk home with Daddy Dumps and the other Flower Girls.
Oh, how things were changed! What an unbearable woman Aunt Agnes was!
What a horror was Mrs Macintyre! Had not those two between them simply
swept four of the Flower Girls out of sight, and _all_ the Precious
Stones; and, in addition, had not Dumpy Dad and Aunt Cecilia undertaken
some kind of menial work with regard to Dundree and Ardshiel? It was
solely and entirely because of Ardshiel that Dumpy Dad was going to be
an agent. It was entirely on account of Ardshiel that Aunt Cecilia was
going to stoop to be a sort of nursery-governess. Well and cleverly
had those wicked women, Aunt Agnes and Mrs Macintyre, laid their plans.
'But the plans o' the de'il never prosper,' thought Hollyhock.
'They'll come to their senses yet; but meanwhile what am _I_ to do?
How ever am I to stand this awful loneliness?' Hollyhock was not a
specially clever child. She was passionate, fierce, and loving; but
she was also rebellious and very determined. There was a great deal in
her which might make her a fine woman by-and-by; but, on the other
hand, there was much in her which showed that she could be, and might
be, utterly ruined.
Suddenly a wild and naughty idea entered her brain. Nothing, not all
the coaxing, not all the petting, not all the language in all the
world, would get her to go to Ardshiel as a pupil; but might she not go
there now, and peep in at the windows and see for herself what was
going on, what awful process was transforming the Flower Girls and the
Precious Stones into other and different beings?
Her father had said good-night to her, but it was still quite
early--between eight and nine o'clock. The Ardshielites, those wicked
ones, would still be up. She would have time to go there, to look in
and see for herself what was going on.
She was the sort of girl who did nothing by halves. The servants had
no occasion to come into the hall again that night. Ah yes, here was
Duncan; she had better say something to him in order to lull his
suspicions.
The old man came in and began to close the shutters. 'Don't ye sit up
ower long, Miss Hollyhock. Ye must be feelin' a bit dowy without the
ithers, bless them.'
'No, I don't, Duncan,' replied Hollyhock. 'But, all the same, I 'd
best go to bed, I expect.'
'Weel, that 's exactly what I 'm thinkin',' said the old man. 'Ye 'll
gang to your rest and have a fine sleep. That's what a body wants when
she's eaten up wi' loneliness. I ken fine that ye are missin' the
ithers, lassie.'
'I'm not missing them a bit,' replied Hollyhock. 'As if I could miss
_traitors_.'
'Come, come, noo; don't be talkin' that way.' Here Duncan shut the
great shutters with a bang. 'Why should a young maid talk so ignorant?
Ye 'll be a' richt yet, lassie; but there, ye 're lonesome, my bonnie
dearie.'
'Suppose, now, you had been me, Duncan, what would you have done?' said
Hollyhock suddenly.
'Why, gone to Ardshiel, of course.'
'Duncan, I hate you. You 're another traitor.'
'No, I'm no,' said Duncan; 'but I ken what's richt, and I ken what's
wrang, and when a little lass chooses betwixt and between, why, I says
to myself, says I, "Halt a wee, and the cantie lass'll come round,"
says I. Shall I take the dogs or no, Miss Hollyhock?'
'Yes, take them; I don't want them,' said Hollyhock.
'The poor maister, he's that loaded wi' work.-- Come away, doggies;
come away.-- Guid-nicht to ye, missie; guid-nicht. Bed's the richt
place for ye. I 'm sorry that Magsie 's no here to cuddle ye a bit.'
'Thanks; I'm glad she's gone. I hate her,' said Hollyhock.
'Ay,' said the old man, coming close to the child and looking into her
eyes. 'Isn't it a wee bit o' the de'il ye hae in ye the nicht, wi'
your talkin' o' hatin' them that luves ye!--Come, doggies; come. My
poor beasties, ye 'll want your rest; and there's no place like bed for
missie hersel'.'
'You 'd best go to your own bed, too, Duncan,' called Hollyhock after
him. 'You are a very impertinent old man, and getting past your work.'
'Past my work, am I, now? Aweel, ye 'll see! Guid-nicht, miss. I
bear no malice, although I pity the poor maister.'
Duncan departed, taking the greyhound and the bloodhound with him. As
soon as she was quite sure that he had gone, and silence, deep and
complete, had fallen on the house, Hollyhock took down an old cloak
from where it hung in a certain part of the hall, and wrapping it
firmly round her shoulders, went out into the night. It was better out
of doors--less suffocating, less lonely--and the girl's terribly low
spirits began to rise. She was in for an adventure, and what Scots
lassie did not love an adventure?
So she crept stealthily down the avenue, slipped through the smaller of
the gates, and presently found herself on the highroad. It was still
comparatively early, and certainly neither Lennox nor old Duncan missed
her. Duncan thought she was in bed; Lennox was too absorbed in his
heavy work to give his naughty little girl a thought. She had chosen
to stay behind. It was very troublesome and awkward of her, but he was
confident that her rebellious spirit would not last long. Accordingly
Hollyhock went the short distance which divided Ardshiel from The
Garden, entered by the great iron gates, and walked up the stately
avenue toward the beautiful mansion, where her own sisters were
traitorously and wickedly enjoying themselves.
'But let them wait until lessons begin,' thought Hollyhock; 'let them
wait until that woman puts the birch on to them; then perhaps they 'll
see who's right--I, the faithful, noble girl, who would not desert her
father, or they, who have just gone off to Ardshiel for a bit of
excitement.'
Ardshiel really looked remarkably pretty as Hollyhock drew near. It
was illuminated by electric light from attic to cellar, and there was
such a buzz of young voices, such an eager amount of talk, such peals
of happy, childish laughter, that Hollyhock was led thereby in the
right direction, and could peep into a very large room which was
arranged as a vast playroom on the ground floor, and where all the
children at present at Ardshiel were clustered together.
Hollyhock, wearing her dark cloak, looked in. The blinds had not yet
been pulled down, and one window was partly open. She therefore saw a
sight which caused her heart to ache with furious jealousy. Her own
sister Jasmine was talking to a girl whom she addressed as Barbara.
Her own sister Rose of the Garden was chatting bravely with a girl whom
she addressed as Augusta. Hollyhock could not help observing that both
Barbara and Augusta were particularly nice-looking girls, with fair
English faces and refined English voices. All the children were
dressed for the evening.
'So _affected_ at a school,' thought Hollyhock; 'but the birch-rod
woman will be on them soon, if I 'm not mistaken.'
There was, however, a boy present who specially drew her attention and
even forced her admiration. He was a remarkably handsome boy, and his
name was Ivor. What his surname was Hollyhock could not guess. She
only knew that she had never seen such beautiful blue eyes before; and
such a manner, too, he had--almost like a man. Why, Jasper, Garnet,
Sapphire, Opal, and Emerald could not touch him even for a moment--that
is, as far as appearance and ways went.
While she gazed in at the window, who should come up to this boy but
her own sister Gentian! She took the boy by the arm and said, 'Now
let's sit in a circle and think out our charade for Monday night.'
Ivor gave a smile. He looked with admiration at Gentian, whom
Hollyhock always considered very plain. Instantly chairs were drawn
into a circle, and an excited conversation began.
The birch-rod woman was a long time in appearing! Hollyhock's black
eyes were fixed on the blue eyes of Ivor. It would certainly _not_ be
unpleasant to talk to a boy of that sort; but he seemed quite devoted
to Gentian--poor, plain, little Gentian--while she, Hollyhock, the
beauty of the family, was standing out in the cold; and it _was_ cold
on that September night, with a touch of frost just breathing through
the air. Hollyhock felt herself shiver; then, all of a sudden, her
patience gave way. Those children should not be so happy, while she
was so wretched. She got behind the window where no one could see her,
and shouted in a loud, cracked voice, which she assumed for the
purpose, 'Oh! the ghost! the ghost!'
She then rushed down the avenue, fearing to be caught and discovered.
She ran so fast that her long cloak tripped her, and she suddenly fell
and cut her lip. When she came to herself she had to wipe some stains
of blood away from her injured lip with her handkerchief.
She just reached the lodge gates in time to shout once again, 'The
ghost! the ghost!' when the woman who lived in the lodge came out,
prepared to lock up for the night.
'Who may you be?' said the woman.
'I'm the ghost. Let me through!' screamed Hollyhock.
And she really looked so frightful, with her big black eyes, and
blood-stained face, and streaming lip, that the woman, who was a
stranger, and did not know her, called out, 'Get ye gone at once or
I'll set the dogs on you. The shortest road ye can go'll be the best.
Ye 're not a ghost, but a poor cracked body.'
Hollyhock was sincerely glad to find herself once again on the
highroad, but in some mysterious way her dislike for Ardshiel had
vanished, and she felt furiously angry with Ivor Chetwode for daring to
take notice of her plain sister, Gentian.
She got into the house without much difficulty, bathed her swollen lip,
and retired to bed to think of Ivor's blue eyes. What a nice boy he
must be!--a real bonnie lad, one _worth_ talking to. Why should a girl
be a dunce all her days, when there was such a laddie at Ardshiel? Ah,
well, she would know more about Master Ivor before long.
She slept soundly, and forgot the troubles of her miserable day. In
her dreams she thought of the Precious Stones and Ivor, and imagined
them all fighting hard to gain the goodwill of Gentian, who was a
freckled little girl, not to be named with her, Hollyhock. If that was
the sort of thing that went on at Ardshiel, and the birch-woman did
_not_ appear, it must be rather a nice place, when all was said and
done.