The next morning Marcia commenced her duties. She had said to herself
the night before that the prison doors were closing on her. They were
firmly closed the next morning. She saw her stepmother for a few
minutes on the night of her arrival. She was a tall, very lanky,
tired-looking woman, who was the victim of nerves; her irritability was
well-known and dreaded. Marcia had lived with it for some years of her
life; the younger girls had been brought up with it, and now, when they
were pretty and young, and "coming out," as Molly expressed it, they
were tired of it. The invalid was not dangerously ill. If she would
only exert herself she might even get quite well; but Mrs Aldworth had
not the least intention of exerting herself. She liked to make the
worst of her ailments. As a matter of fact she lived on them; she
pondered them over in the dead of night, and in the morning she told
whoever her faithful companion might happen to be, what had occurred.
She spoke of fresh symptoms during the day, and often sobbed and
bemoaned herself, and she rated her companion and made her life a
terrible burden. Marcia knew all about it. She thought of it as she
lay in bed that first night, and firmly determined to make a strong
line.
"I have given up Frankfort," she thought, "and the pleasures of my
school life, and the chance of earning money, and some distinction--for
they own that I am the best English mistress they have ever had; I have
given up the friendship of those dear girls, and the opera, and the
music, and all that I most delight in; but I will not--I vow it--give up
all my liberty. It is right, of course, that I, who am not so young as
my sisters, should have some of the burden; but they must share it."
She went downstairs, therefore, to breakfast, resolved to speak her
mind. The girls were there, looking very pretty and merry. Nesta said
eagerly:
"Molly, you will be able to go to the Chattertons to-day."
"I mean to," said Molly. "Ethel, you mustn't be jealous, but I am
coming with you."
"And she's got a charming new hat," said Nesta.
"I know," said Ethel. "She trimmed it yesterday with some of the ribbon
left over from my new ball dress."
"She'll wear it," said Nesta, "and she'll look as pretty as you, Ethel."
Ethel shook herself somewhat disdainfully.
"And I'm going to play tennis with Matilda Fortescue," continued Nesta.
"Oh, hurrah! hurrah! Isn't it nice to have a day of freedom?"
"What do you mean, girls?" said Marcia at that moment.
Her voice had a new quality in it; the girls were arrested in their idle
talk.
"What do we mean?" said Nesta, who was far and away the most pert of the
sisters. "Why, this is what we mean: Dear old Marcia, the old darling,
has come back, and we're free."
"I wish to tell you," said Marcia, "that this is a mistake."
"What do you mean?" said Molly. "Do you mean to insinuate that you are
not our sister, our dear old sister?"
"I mean to assure you," said Marcia, "that I am your sister, and I have
come back to _share_ your work and to help you, but not to take your
duties from you."
"Our duties!" cried Molly, with a laugh. "Why, of course we have heaps
of duties--more than we can attend to. We make our own clothes, don't
we, Nesta?"
"And beautifully we do it," said Nesta. "And don't we trim our own
hats?"
"Yes, I'm not talking about those things. Those are pleasures."
"Pleasures? But we must be clothed?"
"Yes, dears; but you will understand me when I speak quite plainly.
Part of your duty is to try to make your poor mother's life as happy as
you can."
"But you will do that, darling," said Nesta, coming close up to her
sister and putting her arms round her neck.
Nesta had a very pretty and confiding way, and at another time Marcia
would have done what the little girl expected, clasped her to her heart
and said that she would do all, and leave her dear little young sister
to her gay pleasures. But Marcia on this occasion said nothing of the
sort.
"I wish to be absolutely candid," she said. "I will look after mother
every second morning, and every second afternoon. There are four of us
altogether, and I will have every day either my morning or my afternoon
to myself. I will take her one day from after breakfast until after
early dinner, and afterwards on the day that I do that, I shall be quite
at liberty to pursue my own way until the following morning. On
alternate days, I will go to her after early dinner, and stay with her
until she is settled for the night. More I will not do; for I will go
out--I will have time to write letters, and to study, and to pursue some
of those things which mean the whole of life to me. If you don't
approve of this arrangement, girls, I will go back to Frankfort."
Marcia's determined speech, the firm stand she took, the resolute look
on her face, absolutely frightened the girls.
"You will go back to Frankfort?" said Nesta, tears trembling in her
eyes.
Just at that instant Mr Aldworth and Horace came into the room.
"My dear girls, how nice to see you all four together," said the father.
"Marcia, I trust you are rested," said Horace.
"Oh, Horace," said Nesta, "she has been saying such cruel things."
"Not at all," said Marcia. "I am very glad you have come in, father,
and I am glad you have come in, Horace. You must listen to me, all of
you. I am twenty, and I am my own mistress. My stepmother does not
stand in quite the same relation to me as my own mother would have done.
She is not as near to me as she is to Ethel, and Molly, and Nesta; but
I love her, and am willing, abundantly willing, to take more than my
share of nursing her."
"That's right, Marcia," said her father.
"Listen, father. I haven't said all I mean to say. I will not give the
girls absolute liberty at the expense of deserting their mother. I
refuse to do so; I have told them that I will look after my stepmother
for half of every day, sometimes in the morning, and sometimes in the
afternoon; but I will not do more, so Molly or Ethel or Nesta, who is no
baby, must share the looking after her with me. You can take this
proposal of mine, girls, or leave it. If you take it, well and good; if
you leave it I return to Frankfort to-morrow."
Had a bombshell burst in the midst of that eager, animated group, it
could not have caused greater consternation. Marcia, the eldest sister,
who had always been somewhat downtrodden, who had always worked very,
very hard, who always spared others and toiled herself, had suddenly
turned round and dared them to take all her liberty from her.
But even as she spoke her heart sank. It was one thing to resolve and
to tell her family so; but quite another thing to get that family to
carry out her wishes. Nesta flung herself into her father's arms and
sobbed. Molly and Ethel frowned, and tears rolled down Ethel's cheeks.
But Horace went up to Marcia, and put his hand on her shoulder.
"I do think you are right," he said. "It is fair enough. The only
thing is that you must train them a bit, Marcia, just a bit, for they
have not your orderly or sweet and gracious ways."
"Then you take her part, do you?" cried the younger sisters in tones of
different degrees of emotion.
"Yes, I do, and, father, you ought to."
"It doesn't matter," said Marcia, who somehow seemed not even to feel
Horace's approval of much moment just then. "I do what I said; I stay
here for a month if you accede to my proposal. At the end of a month,
if you have broken my wishes, and not taken your proper share of the
nursing of your mother, I go back to Frankfort. Mrs Silchester has
promised to keep my situation open for me for that time. Now I think
you understand."
Marcia went out of the room: she had obtained at least a moral victory,
but how battered, how tired, how worn out she felt.