Produced by Al Haines
[Illustration: Started off through the first figure.]
AUNT JUDITH
The Story of a Loving Life
BY
GRACE BEAUMONT
THOMAS NELSON AND SONS
LONDON, EDINBURGH,
DUBLIN, AND NEW YORK
Published 1888, 1910
CONTENTS.
I. A School-girl Quarrel
II. Aunt Judith
III. Will You have Me for a Friend?
IV. A Talk with Aunt Judith
V. A Fallen Queen
VI. Winnie's Home
VII. An Afternoon at Dingle Cottage
VIII. Forging the First Link
IX. The Christmas Party
X. Gathering Clouds
XI. It is so hard to say Good-bye
XII. I always speak as I think
XIII. Our Sailor Boy
XIV. The Prize Essay
XV. How shall I live through the long, long years?
XVI. Light in Darkness
XVII. I shall learn to be good now
XVIII. Conclusion
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Started off through the first figure . . . . . . _Frontispiece_
"Will you have me for a friend?"
A prostrate figure with white, upturned face
The eyes, wide open, were fixed on the sheets of
manuscript before her
AUNT JUDITH.
CHAPTER I.
A SCHOOL-GIRL QUARREL.
"Girls, girls, I've news for you!" cried Winnifred Blake, entering the
school-room and surveying the faces of her school-mates with great
eagerness.
Luncheon hour was almost over, and the pupils belonging to Mrs. Elder's
Select Establishment for Young Ladies were gathered together in the
large school-room, some enjoying a merry chat, others, more studiously
inclined, conning over a forthcoming lesson.
"Give us the benefit of your news quickly, Winnie," said Ada Irvine,
looking round from her snug seat on the broad window-ledge; "surely we
must be going to hear something wonderful when _you_ are so excited;"
and the girl eyed her animated school-fellow half scornfully.
"A new pupil is coming," announced Winnie with an air of great
solemnity. "Be patient, my friends, and I'll tell you how I know.
Dinner being earlier to-day, I managed to get back to school sooner
than usual, and was just crossing the hall to join you all in the
school-room, when the drawing-room door opened, and Mrs. Elder
appeared, accompanied by a lady in a long loose cloak and huge
bonnet--regular coal-scuttle affair, girls; so large, in fact, that it
was quite impossible to get a glimpse of her face. Mrs. Elder was
saying as I passed, 'I shall expect your niece to-morrow morning, Miss
Latimer, at nine o'clock; and trust she will prosecute her studies with
all diligence, and prove a credit to the school.'" Winnie mimicked the
lady-principal's soft, plausible voice as she spoke.
"A new pupil!" remarked Ada once more, her voice raised in supreme
contempt; "really, Winnie, I fail to understand your excitement over
such a trifle. Why, she may be a green-grocer's daughter for all you
know to the contrary;" and the speaker's dainty nose was turned up with
a gesture of infinite scorn.
"Well, and what then, Miss Conceit?" retorted Winnie, flushing angrily
at her school-mate's contemptuous tone; "I presume a green-grocer's
daughter is not exempted from possessing the same talented abilities
which characterize your charming self."
"Certainly not," replied the other with the same quiet ring of scorn in
her voice; "but, pray, who would associate with a green-grocer's
daughter? Most assuredly not I. My mother is very particular with
regard to the circle in which I move."
Winnie swept a graceful courtesy.
"Allow me to express my deep sense of obligation," she said mockingly,
"at the honour conferred on my unworthy self by your attempted
patronage and esteem." Then, changing her tone and raising her little
head proudly--"Ada Irvine, I am ashamed of you--your pride is
insufferable; and my heartiest wish is that some day you may be looked
down upon and viewed with the supreme contempt you now bestow on those
lower (most unfortunately) in the social scale than yourself."
"Thanks for your amiable wish," was the answer, given in that easy,
tranquil voice which the owner well knew irritated her adversary more
than the fiercest burst of passion would have done; "but I am afraid
there is little likelihood of its ever being realized."
Winnie elevated her eyebrows. "Is that your opinion?" she said in
affected surprise, while the other school-girls gathered round,
tittering at the caustic little tongue. "I suppose you study the
poets, Miss Irvine; and if so, doubtless you will remember who it is
that says:--
'Oh wad some power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!'"
The mischievous child stopped for a second, and then continued: "I am
afraid you look at yourself and your various charms through
rose-coloured spectacles, certainly not with 'a jaundiced eye;'--but I
beg your pardon; were you about to speak?" and Winnie looked innocently
into the fair face of her antagonist, which was now white and set with
passion.
The blue eyes were flashing with an angry light, the pretty lips
trembling, and the smooth brow knit in a heavy frown; but only for a
few moments. By-and-by the features relaxed their fixed and stony
gaze; the countenance resumed its usual haughty expression; and,
lifting up the book which was lying on her lap, Ada opened it at the
required page, and ended the discussion by saying, "I shall consider it
my duty to inform Mrs. Elder of your charming sentiments; in the
meantime, kindly excuse me from continuing such highly edifying
conversation." With that she bent her head over the French grammar,
and soon appeared thoroughly engrossed in the conjugation of the verb
_avoir_, to have, while her mischievous school-mate turned away with a
light shrug of her pretty shoulders.
Winnifred Blake, the youngest daughter of a wealthy, influential
gentleman, was a bright, happy girl of about fourteen years, with a
kind, generous heart, and warm, impulsive nature. Being small and
slight in stature, she seemed to all appearance a mere child; and the
quaint, gipsy face peeping from beneath a mass of shaggy, tangled curls
showed a pair of large laughter-loving eyes and a mischievous little
mouth.
Was she clever?
Well, that still remained to be seen. Certainly, the bright,
intelligent countenance gave no indication of a slow understanding and
feeble brain; but Winnie hated study, and consequently was usually to
be found adorning the foot of the class. "It is deliciously
comfortable here, girls," she would say to her school-mates when even
they protested against such continual indolence; "you see I am near the
fire, and that is a consideration in the cold, wintry days, I assure
you. Don't annoy yourselves over my shortcomings. Lazy, selfish
people always get on in the world;" and speaking thus, the incorrigible
child would nestle back in her lowly seat with an air of the utmost
satisfaction.
Ada Irvine smiled in supreme contempt over what she termed Winnie's
stupidity, and would repeat her own perfectly-learned lesson with
additional triumph in her tone; but the faultless repetition by no
means disconcerted her lazy school-mate, who was often heard to say,
with seeming simplicity, "I could do just as well if I chose; but then
I don't choose, and that, you see, makes all the difference."
Ada Irvine was an only child, and her parents having gone abroad in the
(alas, how often vain!) search after health, had left her with Mrs.
Elder, to whose care she was intrusted with every charge for her
comfort and advantage--a charge which that young lady took great care
should be amply fulfilled. She was only six months older than Winnie,
but very tall, and already giving the promise of great beauty in after
years. Talented and brilliant also, she held a powerful sway over the
minds and actions of her schoolmates, and queened in the school right
royally; but the cold, haughty pride which marred her nature failed to
make her such a general favourite as her fiery, little adversary.
In the afternoon, when the school was being dismissed for the day, Ada
sought the presence of the lady-principal; and consequently, just as
Winnie was strapping up her books preparatory to going home, a servant
appeared in the dressing-room summoning Miss Blake to Mrs. Elder's
sanctum.
"Now you're in for it, Winnie," said the girls pityingly; "Ada has kept
to her word and told. How mean!" But the child only tossed her curly
head, and with slightly heightened colour followed the maid to the
comfortable parlour where the lady-principal was usually to be found.
Mrs. Elder, seated by a small fire which burned brightly in the shining
grate, turned a face expressive of the most severe displeasure on the
defiant little culprit as she entered; while Ada, standing slightly in
the shadow of the window-curtain, looked at the victim haughtily, and
shaped her lips in a malicious smile at the lady-principal's opening
words.
"I presume you are aware of my reason for requesting your presence
here, Miss Blake," she began in icy tones; "and I trust you have come
before me sincerely penitent for your fault. I cannot express in
sufficiently strong terms the displeasure I feel at your shameful
conduct this afternoon. I never thought a pupil of this establishment
could be guilty of such unlady-like language as fell from your lips,
and it grieves me to know that I have in my school a young girl capable
of cherishing the evil spirit of animosity against a fellow-creature.
What have you to say in defence of your conduct? Can you vindicate it
in any way, or shall I take your silence as full confession of your
guilt?"
Winnie pressed her lips tightly together, but did not speak. "I need
not attempt to clear myself," she mentally decided. "Ada will have
coloured our quarrel to suit herself, and being Mrs. Elder's favourite,
her word will be relied on before mine; that has been the case before,
and will be so again."
The lady-principal, however, mistook the continued silence for
conscious guilt.
"Then I demand that an ample apology be made to Miss Irvine now, in my
presence," she said once more in frigid tones. "Come, Miss Blake; my
time is too precious to be trifled with."
Winnie's eyes sparkled, and raising her small head defiantly, she
replied, "I decline to apologize, Mrs. Elder. I only spoke as I
thought, and am quite prepared to say the same again if occasion
offers. Miss Irvine knows my words, if distasteful, were but too true."
The lady-principal gasped. "Miss Blake," she cried at length,
horrified at the bold assertion, and endeavouring to quail her
audacious pupil with one stern, withering glance, "this is dreadful!"
But the angry child only pouted, and repeated doggedly, "It is quite
true."
Then Mrs. Elder rose, and laying her hand firmly on Winnie's shoulder,
said quietly, but with an awful meaning underlying her words,
"Apologize at once, Miss Blake, or I shall resort to stronger measures,
and also complain to your parents"--a threat which terrified the
unwilling girl into submission.
Going forward with flushed cheeks and mutinous mouth, she stood before
the triumphant Ada, and said sullenly, "Please accept my apology for
unlady-like language, Miss Irvine. I am sorry I should have degraded
myself and spoken as I did, but" (and here a mischievous light swept
the gloomy cloud from the piquant face and lit it up with an elfish
smile) "you provoked me, and I am very outspoken."
Ada coloured with anger and vexation; and in spite of her displeasure,
Mrs. Elder found it difficult to repress a smile.
"That will do," she pronounced coldly; "such an apology is only adding
insult to injury. You will kindly write out twenty times four pages of
French vocabulary, and also remain at the foot of all your classes
during the next fortnight. Go! I am greatly displeased with you, Miss
Blake;" and as the lady-principal waved her hand in token of dismissal,
she frowned angrily, and looked both mortified and indignant.
Winnie required no second bidding. She drew her slight figure up to
its full height, made her exit with all the dignity of an offended
queen, entered the now deserted dressing-room, and seizing her books,
hurried from the school, and was soon running rapidly down the busy
street.
"Hallo, Win! what's the row? One would think you had stolen the
giant's seven-league boots," cried a voice from behind. "Did ever I
see a girl dashing along at such a rate!" And turning round, Winnie
saw before her a tall, strapping boy, whose honest, freckled face,
illumined by a broad, friendly grin, shone brightly on her from under a
shock of fiery red hair.
"I'll bet I know without your telling me," he continued, coming to her
side and removing his heavy load of books from one shoulder to the
other. "Been quarrelling with the lovely Ada, eh?" and he glanced
kindly at the little figure by his side.
Winnie laughed slightly. "You're about right, Dick," she replied.
"There has been a cat-and-dog fight; only this time the cat's velvety
paws scratched the poor little dog and wounded it sorely."
"Ah! you went at it tooth and nail, I suppose," Dick said
philosophically; "pity you girls can't indulge in a regular stand-up
fight." And the wild boy began to brandish his arms about as if he
would thoroughly enjoy commencing there and then.
The quick flush of temper was over now, and the girl's eyes gleamed
mischievously as she replied, "I've a weapon of my own, Dick, fully as
powerful as yours. I'll use my tongue;" and the audacious little minx
smiled saucily into her brother's honest face.
A hearty roar greeted her words, and Dick almost choked before he
managed to say, "Go it, Win; I'll back you up. Commend me to a woman's
tongue!" And the boy, unable to control his risible faculties, burst
into a hearty laugh, which died away in a chuckle of genuine merriment.
Richard Blake, or Dick (the name by which he was generally called) was
Winnie's favourite brother, and she almost idolized the big, kindly
fellow, on whom the other members of the family showered ridicule and
contempt. He was a bluff, outspoken lad, with a brave, true heart as
tender and pitiful as a woman's; but, lacking both the capacity for and
inclination to study, he by no means proved a brilliant scholar, and
thus brought down on himself the censure of his masters and the heavy
displeasure of his father. "Hard words break no bones. I daresay I
shall manage through the world somehow," he would say after having
received some cutting remark from an elder brother or sister; and
Winnie, always his stanch friend and advocate, would nod her sunny head
and prophesy confidently, "We shall be proud of you yet, Dick."
In the meantime they sauntered along, swinging their books and chatting
gaily, till a turn in the road brought them to a quiet square where
handsome dwelling-houses faced each other in sombre grandeur.
"No. 3 Victoria Square--this way, miss," said Dick, mounting the steps
and ringing the bell violently.
"What a boy you are!" laughed Winnie, following, and giving her
brother's rough coat a mischievous pull. "Whenever will you learn
sense, Dick?" Then the door opened, and with glad young hearts brother
and sister entered their comfortable home.